Lost in Laminate

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<img src="https://i.imgur.com/YCe265K.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> Time drifts by with each passing stack cloud. Torei, consumed by pleasure and its attendant dangers, does indeed await. Can you feel it calling? [[Take a deep breath, prospector. The AIs worked so hard on that oxygen.->Wake]] You've been here before, you need to [[LOAD GAME.->Load]]

Consciousness comes slowly, an interstellar drag engine spooling up after far too long unfired. Each revolution of the mind brings just a //bit// more to your senses. Craving for understanding is natural, but other symptoms tag along. Most readily? ''Pain.'' A headache that could snap the ferrotitanium guide line of the Way Up. (Set: $debt to 0) (Set: $Wardrobe to false)(set: $Slave to false)(set: $Blue to false)(set: $Smoke to false)(set: $Sec to false)(set: $Brand to false)(set: $IsSlave to false)(set: $Nun to false)(set: $showcredits to false)(set: $showgear to false)(set: $showstatus to false)(set: $LevelFix to false)(set: $DaemonEnd to false)(set: $PrisonerEnd to false)(set: $Servant to false)(set: $Status to 0)(set: $Ending to 0)(set: $debtShower to false) [[Wait... Way Up?->Elevator]] [[Where am I?]]

The memory is cloaked in a web of blackened synapses, lying at the very edge of the abyss that you recognize as your short term memory, but fragments do come through. You're seated upon a plush bench seat, hand pressed to the glass of the capsule roaring downward towards a planet that stretches beyond the horizon. Far less convenient than landing directly, but you know that isn't possible. Men defied the Gods of the this world once, but do so again at their own peril. This is the only way. [[Strange...where am I?->Where am I?]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/NGiox2N.png" width="75%" height="75%"> Your eyes open, as your mind grapples with a question so fundamental. The world is bleary but the data comes in, sharpening with every passing second. A ceiling. You're staring at a pristine white ceiling, the inner portion recessed, swirling etchings defining the boundary. The headache persists but your body doesn't register the same problems, and tries to rise. Only to fail, muscles suddenly straining. Through the lingering fog of your mind you look down, and the situation becomes clearer. You're laying on a bed, the sheets smooth and glossy, nothing like the silk and satins you're more familiar with. *Nude*. From your toes to the flare of your waist, up past a pert chest. And you're bound, arms and legs spread by the chains linking each to the corner posts of the bed. [[Consider the situation further.->The Mirror]] [[Forget that, struggle!]] [[Scream!]]

Instead of further physical efforts, your rational mind asserts itself. First things first: you //really// give your situation proper examination. Some of the details you already know. You're on a bed with peculiar, slick sheets. They're white, same as the ceiling above. And you're bound at wrist and ankle by simple cuffs. Looking around, the rest of the room shows a similar decor-- clean lines, smooth surfaces, a strictly modern aesthetic. An endtable beside the bed features a projected clock against the wall, reading ''GOOD MORNING''. Several other items rest there but they're above your head, only vaguely visible. It's the mirror visible across from the foot of the bed that truly gives perspective. In its silvered visage you see yourself, a woman bound lewdly upon the bed. Your hair is long and blonde, well-kept but disheveled, falling across your shoulders and down your back. A gag is visible as well, the white material covering the space from nose to chin like a panel. Between your teeth, the presence of a ball being lodged beneath is obvious. You're quite literally bound and gagged, all but helpless-- for a designated length of time, you realize. Hidden from your eyes, but visible in the reflection is a second projection from the endstand clock: ''Binding Release: 12/45 hours remaining.'' [[I've been here for over a day?->Mirror II]]

Your senses may still be reeling from revelation, but your muscles know what to do. Pulling hard, you struggle against the bindings keeping you upon the bed. The chains rattle, your cuffs pull just a bit tighter, but then... ...nothing. Despite your efforts, they do not give. You're left panting, but do get a look at the d-shaped rings to which the chains have been attached, built into each of the bed posts. A strange accessory, as if it were made for just this sort of situation. [[Perhaps I should consider the situation.->The Mirror]] [[Scream!]]

A high-pitched scream forms in your chest, rises up your throat-- and dies in a muffled //mmmph// as you suddenly realize that the cuffs were not the only binding you wore. Staring up at the ceiling you work your jaw, your tongue. The gag is smooth and ball-shaped, seated just behind your teeth. A further portion covers your mouth and wraps beneath your chin, a panel holding it in place. You're limited to muffled moans, and nothing more. [[I can still struggle!->Forget that, struggle!]] [[Perhaps I should consider things.->The Mirror]]

It appears so. You try to recall anything from that time period, but nothing comes. It's as if you've walked to the edge of the abyss, staring into an emptiness so vast, so terrifying. What had happened? How had you come to this? //Who are you?// That last bit at least pulls you back from the brink, escaping the inky darkness that proves to be only your //short// term memory. Holes are punched in anything further back than perhaps a week, but beyond that answers do come when queried. You're in your twenties, born on the colony of Urzan Tor IV. Tor-Four, as the colloquialism went, had been the very backwater. You had escaped to greener pastures as soon as you could pull together enough for a ticket, entering the service of Steris Trans-Galactic, a major research and development firm. But you're hardly a scientist, no, you're what's known as a //prospector.// Not of mineral deposits, mind you, but of breakthroughs and technologies tucked away on the fringes of known space. With a hint of new frontiers and a suitcase, you've been rising through the ranks by coming back with deeds and contracts for all sorts of new discoveries. Even Backwaters like Tor-Four hold interesting things, after all, but it takes a prospector to bring them to market. That's you. [[Then how the hell did I end up like THIS?->Mirror III]]

//Torei.// The name comes to you, but that's damn close to the black hole in your memories. Infamous among spacers, and those with an interest in the fringes. A lost world, only relatively recently put back on the map. A perverse world, known for the intensive sexuality that was its culture and main export, as well as the presence of widespread slavery. But a ''lucrative'' world, if one braved its dangers. Torei's strange history had left it with biomedical technology perhaps centuries ahead of anything available on the market, and a distinct need for all sorts of foreign inventions in turn. A prospector's dream, a whale of a catch, but terribly difficult to haul in. Torei had a thriving tourist culture, and besides a strict ban on planetside landings (thus the need for a space elevator descent), meeting with the locals was easy enough. Ringdoms circled the planet's equator, each a nation unto itself. Culturally similar of course, but varying widely between the tradionalist and suspicious antipodes and those near the elevator, who welcomed outsiders with opened hands-- always willing to trade. But Torei's humans did not hold the keys to their own planet, and they certainly did not offer much of their best tech. That only came from the poles. From the Gods. Mazos and Dahom. Far from civilization the twinned AIs ruled. Some Toreans called them Gods, others merely machines. Most fear them, and for good reason. Torean history speaks at length to the time before liberty, where the AIs ruled and humans served, little more than nameless cogs in a planetary machine. Endless suffering, torture, experimentation. But everyone knew they were the absent Kings of Torei. A majority of their subjects had escaped them, a war had ensued to confirm that fact, but they still held secrets. Technology... I came here to make a deal, that's clear. [[My deal... it's with them?->Mirror IV]]

You may not remember much, but you do distinctly recall that you're not *that* foolish. Certainly you remember researching the planet from afar, as best you could, only to determine it wasn't worth the effort-- until contacted directly. How had they know of your interest? That you can't fully remember. Again you had trended close to the holes in your memory, and this time fallen through. You distinctly recalled coming to the planet to make a deal, but the terms of it? Your contact? Gone. And now you have a more immediate concern: 12 hours of bondage to look forward to, it seems. That would clearly be unacceptable. What if someone walked in? Were you being held against your will? You need answers. You ''must'' escape. But how? Examining your bindings reveals them to be well constructed, solid pieces of work. They're not locked, but you have so little movement you couldn't even begin to undo them without having a hand free. Eyeing the d-rings holding your chains to the bed reveals one of them, that attached to your left hand cuff, to look a bit loose however. Perhaps you could work it free? The only other option is made apparent by the mirror, which allows you to both see yourself and the area around the bed itself. There appears to be a remote of some sort lying on the ground on the right side of your bed. It would take some time, and you don't know what it would accomplish, but the glossy sheet of the bed you're pinned to is quite heavy. If bunched up and pushed off, perhaps it could hit the largest button visible along the top. [[I will break that d-ring.->Ring I]] [[I will try to get that button.->Button I]]

Your bindings are taut, the range of movement allowed to your limbs quite limited indeed. But by shifting your wrist, swinging it between the tightest points of restraint, you are able to shift the ring back and forth. The metal is strong, but the screws holding it to the bed appear loose-- they certainly move with each shift of your hand that you manage. A few minutes of such work is rewarded by a fleck of steel falling away, but damn, this could take a long time. [[Keep at it.->Ring II]] [[Maybe I should try for the button?->Button I]]

You've settled on trying the button. A quick test confirms your hypothesis: the topmost sheet of the bed is slick and smooth, but your bare skin can shift it. With enough wriggling, it should bunch up towards your feet. Then a strategically placed knee should send it over. It will take some time, though. Perhaps struggling against your restraints would prove easier? [[I'll keep at this.->Button II]] [[Maybe I should try to break free.->Ring I]]

You keep at it. Working your hand back and forth, your other limbs occasionally pulling fruitlessly at your bindings as you work. Those don't give, and honestly you feel as if the weak point perhaps isn't so weak-- it also isn't budging. Ten minutes pass, and your arm is aching. [[Keep at it.->Ring III]] [[Maybe I should try for the button?->Button I]] (Set: $ring to 0)

(set: $ring to it +1) You keep working on the d-ring, back and forth, back and forth. Your arm hurts, and soon you've worked up a sweat. But every once in a while, you see a bit of metal pop out, or the screws shift just a bit. (if: $ring > 2)[Damn thing just doesn't want to give...] (if: $ring > 5)[You close your eyes, moaning into your gag as you continue pulling back and forth. You seem committed now, but have to wonder: how much harder could trying for that button be?] (if: $ring > 11)[You're really working it now. The gag prevents your panting, forcing your breathing to come solely from your nose, making it difficult to keep it up. It's been nearly an hour.] (if: $ring > 16)[You moan again, unable to feel your arm. Nearly an hour and a half has passed, yet you persist, arching your back as you pull hard against all your restraints at once... and with a //snap// the d-ring gives out. You're [[free!->Ring IV]]] [[Keep working the ring!->Ring III]] [[You could always try the button.->Button I]]

(set: $debt to it + 35) (set: $debtRing to true) The screws finally pull out, and with it your left arm and its attendant cuff suddenly pulling free. A rough patch is left in the wood of the bed's post, but with your newly won liberty it's not hard to begin undoing the other restraints. The cuffs follow, and before you know it you can reach over, pressing your palm against the self-release countdown. It flicks down to zero then disappears entirely, leaving only the time as you move to the edge of the bed. [[It's time to figure out what is going on.->LOOKING AROUND]]

(set: $button to it +1) You wriggling in your restraints, arching your back as you press your rear into the sheets, shifting them slightly. By pulling hard against all four of your restraints and repeating the maneuver, the sheets do indeed move. A bit. (if: $button > 1)[Progress is slow, but progress is easily marked. You can do this.] (if: $button > 2)[You swallow hard, taking a momentary break. The gag makes you drool, but the panel made sure it had nowhere else to go.] (if: $button > 3)[Keep at it, you're almost there.] (if: $button > 4)[With a final shift, the sheet pulls free, collected into a rough ball at the foot of the bed. All you need to do now is kick it over onto the floor.. and there! [[Success!->Button III]].] [[Keep at it.->Button II]] [[You tire of this, perhaps you can try to break free?->Ring II]]

Upon the mirror across the room, white letters appear: //Room Service Summons: Please Confirm?// Shit. They can't see you like this! Bound and helpless! But they could certainly free you... [[Confirm!->ButtonIV]] [[No, I'll break out myself!->Ring II]]

"Mmmhpgh!" You are still gagged after all. Straining against your bindings, you try to pull off the bed, as if that would make your words clearer. It doesn't. //Please Confirm.../// It's hopeless. The confirmation ticks on, an extra ellipsis added every few seconds. Your gagged moans clearly do not register as speech, and indeed it hardly could be classified as such. And yet... //Confirmation Timeout. Dispatching Room Service for Check.// [["Mmmph!"-> Button V]]

The promised Room Service is announced by a polite knock on the door, followed by a feminine voice. "Ma'am? Your call device was activated, are you in need of service?" [["Mmmmmgph!"->Button VI]] [[Stay quiet. When she leaves, I can try and free myself.->Button VIB]]

"Ah," the voice replies to your muffled greeting. "I see you are gagged. Two moans if you require my service, one if you do not." She is clearly well accustomed to such situations. [[Moan twice, for service!->Button VII]] [[Moan once, you will free yourself.->Button VIB]]

The sound of the woman outside the door fades, and with it any chance she could help you. Instead your attention must turn to the loosened d-ring. You've wasted quite a bit of time on the button, hopefully it won't hurt you latter on. (set: $debt to it + 50) (Set: $ring to 0) (set: $debtChangeEscape to true) [[Start working on the d-ring.->Button B]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/G0lGB6M.png" width="55%" height="55%"> "Understood, I am entering now." The door opens, admitting a woman somewhere near your age, wearing a hotel worker's uniform-- but of an outlandish style and cut. Rendered in slick, glossy material much like your now rumpled bed sheet, the woman's uniform is utterly tight. Her pencil skirt hugs wide hips, while a corset embraces her midsection, allowing a violet bodice that emerges above. She's quite busty, and the purple material is semi-transparent, allowing a clear view of her pierced nipples. (set: $methelp to true) At least you're //both// a bit exposed, you consider, nevertheless blushing as the servant glances about the room. Considering your situation, her reaction is quite reserved-- she merely smiles brightly, hands clasping before her. Her wrists are linked by a chain between them, you notice, and a thick collar encircles her throat. "I see you are engaging in an extended period of self-bondage," she notes, looking pointedly at the countdown projected on the wall. "Given that your checkout time approaches, that seems unfortunate. I would hate to charge you additional fees." Her smile suggests she would in fact enjoy that. "To properly ascertain your service needs, we will need to remove your gag. I can do this, for a small fee of 20 credits. Please lift your chin if this is acceptable." [[It's not like you have a choice. Lift your chin.->Lift Chin]] [["Mmmpgh!?" (I need to pay!?)]]

(set: $debt to it + 20) "Excellent," the servant grins. "The 20 credit charge will been added to your account. Now, allow me to assist." She approaches the side of the bed, placing one knee upon it to loom over you. It's impossible to ignore her chest made so visible beneath the violet material. Your gag is not locked, and removing it simply requires the necessary straps be undone. Pulling it free, a trail of drool lingers from the ball to your tongue before it snaps. Carefully the servant sets it aside, her gaze returning to you again. "Now, how may I assist?" [["Thank you, I need the rest of my restraints undone!"->She Unlocks]] [["I need answers!"]]

"I'm afraid that is not entirely within my capacity to give," she replies, gently pushing a bit of your blonde hair from your eyes. "We are a small establishment, and I will be required back at the front desk shortly. You will need to stop there to check out, so perhaps we can talk at length then?" She looks down the long expanse of your exposed body, her smile returning. "For now, would I be correct to assume you need your restraints to be undone?" [["Yes."->She Unlocks]]

The servant nods. "I understand. Once again, I am required to inform you that a charge to your account would be made to end your bondage early. Another 30 credits." [["Ugh, fine, just get me out!"]]

(set: $debt to it + 30) (set: $debtHelp to true) "Your total charge for this interaction is now (print: $debt) credits," she chimes, still smiling. We appreciate your business. One moment." Reaching up, she begins to undo your restraints, starting at your wrists. Freed, you're able to begin pulling off the cuffs themselves as she moves to your ankles. It takes only a few more moments for your ordeal to finally conclude. "Done," the servant concludes, rising from the bed to press her hand against the clock controls atop the nightstand. The self-unlock command rolls down to zero, then terminates in a flash of red. "Checkout time is less than an hour away," the servant continues. "Please collect your things and join me at the front counter when you are ready." She does not linger, exiting through the only door. You're left in her wake. Naked, perhaps ashamed, but freed. [[It's time to look around.->LOOKING AROUND]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/NGiox2N.png" width="75%" height="75%"> You move to the center of the room, turning in a slow circle as you look upon the scene of your short-term amnesia. You're on Torei, you came here to make a deal-- that's pretty much all you know. There has to be something here to fill in the gaps! The room itself is as white and pristine as you saw from your vantage upon the bed. Furnishings are few and far between, providing a slick, modern look. It also helps make your search much easier, allowing those few things that did not belong to stick out all the more clearly. [[The items on the nightstand, I will search those.->Hotel Nightstand]] [[There is a brochure of some sort on the table over there.->Hotel Table]] [[Perhaps turning on the TV will provide some information?->Hotel TV]] [[A bathroom is attached, I should explore that.->Hotel Bathroom]] (If: $unlockdoor and $memloss is true)[[[With your small collection of cards, you could now leave.->Leave Correct]]](else:)[[Forget this, I need to LEAVE NOW!->Hotel Leave]]

The nightstand follows the general decorating rules whomever designed this room had landed upon: smooth lines, bright white, little extraneous decoration. Projected against the wall the clock still marked time, but your focus falls upon the four items below it. All are small rectangular cards, splayed in a fan-like fashion, but that's where the similarities end. The first is an Aekoran identification passcard, your own image printed upon the front. Various identifying features are noted underneath, alongside an expiration date of late tonight. It appears your time on Torei had been drawing to an end. The most prominent component of the card, however, is the bright red lettering along the top: **FREEWOMB**. (set: $Status to 1)(set: $showstatus to true)(set: $unlockdoor to true) The second card is actually a ticket for an ascent of the planet's space elevator, the Way Up. Prepaid, and dated for midnight tonight. Only your name is listed. The third is a hotel keycard, obviously linked to your room. It's broken in half, the holostrip along the back missing a good chunk. By itself, this probably wouldn't work. The final card is more of an enigma. Rectangular and card like, the material is smooth and reflective. There are no words, nothing besides a black expanse that encapsulated the entire thing. Flipping it over, you recognize your own handwriting in a white pen: *'Tomorrow. Dusk. The deal is on. I can't...'* The words seem to sit uneasily upon the card, droplets of ink upon a midnight pond. And... is that movement? [[What's the Way Up, again?->Elevator II]] [[Examine the black card more closely.->Black Card]]

The table is clinically white, like much of the room. Picking up the brochure, you see that it's for a hotel of some sort-- that it was for the very building in which you stand is made clear as soon as you recognize the decor of one of the rooms pictured on the front. Apparently you're staying at Diarch's Choice, a small hotel located on the outskirts of Grand Aekora, the capital of the Ringdom of Aekora. Amenities include prompt room service, on-site complimentary Wardrobe devices, a wide selection of wines, and what's referred to as 'secure slave storage'. Mention of the Wardrobe machine at least perks your interest, even if the description confuses. It appears to be a public closet of some sort? At least it would improve upon your current nudity. It's outside, down the hallway and to the right. (Set: $Wardrobe to true) [[You should look around some more.->LOOKING AROUND]]

Retrieving the remote from the floor, this time you ignore the large red button along the top labeled //Room Service// and instead settle for a simpler option: //On.// The large mirror reveals itself to be the television as well once the silvery facade fades, replaced instead by a news channel. A primly dressed woman in glossy red form-fitting material smiles into the camera, a collar pulled tight around her throat boldly proclaiming her to be 'Property of TNN'. "Welcome back to the Torean News Network," she greets, as bright and chipper as her outfit. "As always, my name is Anna Karis and these are your top stories for the Ringdom of Aekora." The camera flickers, the canned introduction replaced by a recording of the same woman, sitting slightly differently. It must be presumed they produce customized programs for each region of Torei. "The Prime Markets are once again trending towards a record year, as imports from the elevator-adjacent Ringdoms continue to increase. First time indenture rates have increased by 3% among leading sectors, and forecasts expect the boom to only continue as travel to Torei expands further." [[Keep Watching.->TV2]] [[Turn off the TV, and look elsewhere.->LOOKING AROUND]]

Padding into the bathroom you're met with a small room, walls and ceiling covered in albaster tiles. A sonic shower, the sort that used compressed sound waves to pull dirt and grime from the body without water, occupies one corner. Another mirror covers the wall, while a small door of some sort is found opposite-- a sleeve visible, caught in the mechanism! [[Finally, clothes!->Bath Chute]] [[You should really check yourself in the mirror.->Bath Mirror]] (if: $debtShower is false)[[[A quick shower would do you good.->Hotel Shower]]] [[You decide to return to the larger room instead.->LOOKING AROUND]]

You make for the door, ready to leave whatever happened in this room behind. It's only upon approaching the door that you realize you're still very much nude, and who *knows* what awaits beyond that portal. Your room may be full of mysteries, but you had least had come to grips with it. A brash rush into the world beyond seems ill-advised. [[You are right, I'll look around again.->LOOKING AROUND]] [[No, I'm leaving NOW.->Early Exit]]

The woman shifts her papers, the cuffs upon her wrists glinting in the studio lights. "Moving on, expect at least another three days of sunshine for your local forecast. The trend from the polar AIs to reduce cloud production continues to result in an unnaturally clear spring, with some concern rising from the Lichen Belt regarding water shortages. Historical analysis has led experts to assure those affected that the AIs vary their production seemingly at random, but never enough to endanger crop yields..." [[Keep Watching.->TV3]] [[Turn off the TV, and look elsewhere.->LOOKING AROUND]]

Another shifting of the papers, as the chipper tone turns more serious. "And for our final item, Torei News Network would like to remind our viewers that the two week overlap between last year's Slave Codes and this year's revisions has ended. While most adjustments to the Codes are minor, of significance this year are those changes regarding assistance provided to runaway slaves: penalties up to and including enslavement have been doubled. Non-interaction clauses with polar Daemons have also been strengthened. By Diarchs' decree, this is Anna Karis for Torei News Network, signing off." A good bit of time has passed. (set: $debt to it + 20) (set: $debtTV to true) [[Turn off the TV, and look elsewhere.->LOOKING AROUND]]

Moving to the door you grab the sleeve, the material synthetic wool, in a deep emerald color. Holding it so that it wouldn't slip away, you open the door, revealing a chute of some sort-- and the charred end of the sleeve, where it had once undoubtedly been a full shirt. You've found a garbage chute, you realize quickly. And probably the last evidence of your clothing. Did someone burn your clothing? Did you? Why would you do that? [[You wish you could remember.->Hotel Bathroom]]

Stepping up to the mirror, you lean in, examining your reflection with a discerning eye. Honestly... you could look much worse, especially for one suffering from such a case of short-term amnesia. Natural aesthetics certainly help. By any standard, you're quite beautiful. High cheekbones, full lips, a nose upturned just //so.// Your blonde hair is a bit all over the place, but the way it falls upon your shoulders and down your back remains alluring. Your eyes are piercing as well, so very green. And you're not hurt, of that you can be sure. Checking your nude form over, you look for puncture marks, wounds, anything to explain your lost memories. You find nothing, your skin smooth and unmolested. [[Is there something resting in the sink?->Mem Loss]] [[There is nothing more to see here Step back.->Hotel Bathroom]]

You approach the shower stall, its frosted glass door opening with a smooth pull. It certainly will feel good to allow the machine to do its work. Stepping up to the small console that controls the shower, you realize the shortest recommended setting is for a good twenty minutes. Are you in a hurry to leave? [[Nope, let's do this.->Take Shower]] [[Yes! You better not.->Hotel Bathroom]]

(set: $debt to it + 50) (set: $debtShower to true) The feeling is nothing short of wonderful. Once the machine starts, the world beyond, the confusion, your lost memories, everything-- it all fades away. Replaced by a warm //hum//, the shower coaxing the dirt and grime from you, as readily as anything worrying. Time slips away as well, gliding away with each rolling vibration that emanates from the machine. But it cannot go forever, and indeed, the automated timer does eventually run out. You spent a considerable bit of time, but you are refreshed-- it *must* be worth it. [[Return to the Bathroom->Hotel Bathroom]]

The door is locked. Shit. You really should have seen this coming. There must be a keycard around here somewhere. [[Panic solves nothing. Keep looking around.->LOOKING AROUND]]

The memory is cloaked in a web of blackened synapses, lying at the very edge of the abyss that you recognize as your short term memory, but fragments do come through. You're seated upon a plush bench seat, hand pressed to the glass of the capsule roaring downward towards a planet that stretches towards the horizon. Far less convenient then landing directly, but you know that isn't possible. Men defied the Gods of the this world once, but do so again at their own peril. This is the only way. [[Of course. Now that black card, is it moving?->Black Card]]

The surface of the black card shifts, a pond disturbed. Equally obsidian letters rise, hardly visible until you turn the card, utilizing its own glossy reflection to view what had arisen from the depthless deep. Words. //356 Cross Street, Grand Aekora. Dusk.// The words linger, but only momentarily. As readily as they had emerged, the letters eventually sink back into the abyss. Running your finger over the surface of the black card returns only the sensation of a smooth surface, unblemished besides your own comparably uncivilized scrawl. To call the experience eerie would be to understate the situation greatly. [[There is a story here, though. Focus. Put this all together.]]

Finally, you carefully hold the pieces of your keycard together. Pressing them to the door, a purple light briefly flashes and the door's lock audibly clicks. You're out. And still nude. Glancing back at your room, you know you were thorough. Whatever clothes you had come to Torei with, they're gone. Making for the front desk seems an obvious solution, if a bit embarrassing. Given the planet's reputation, certainly your situation could not be unique. You open the door and pass through, cards clutched in your hand. The hallway outside maintains the clean aesthetic your room had demonstrated, but the color scheme had changed-- here purple dominates, the floor a dark shade, the carpeting below something akin to periwinkle. Thankfully, the hallway is quiet, without a soul in sight. You look left, then right. (if: $Wardrobe is true)[[[You remember that mention of a 'Wardrobe Device' being somewhere nearby, out your door and to the right. Worth a try.->Wardrobe I]]] [[Light pours into a larger room visible at the end of the wall to your left. That has to be the front desk. Make for it.->NudeFront]] [[The way to your right appears to end abruptly further down the way, but you could still head that direction.->Wardrobe Alt]]

Competing narratives become apparent. On one hand, you have your ticket for the Way Up, and the expiration of your passcard. You must have been planning to leave tomorrow. On the other hand, the black card and your troubled white scrawl. The card had given a date and place, that's obvious. You're a prospector, this *must* have been the deal you came to make. The contact you could not recall, a meeting scheduled to acquire the technology you traveled all this way to acquire. But what of what you had written yourself? *'Tomorrow. Dusk. The deal is on. I can't...'* A warning? If only you could remember! And what of the predicament you had awoken to? Bound and gagged, perhaps by your own hand. With a self-release timer counting down, intended to *just* overshoot dusk. That would mean you would have missed the meet for the deal, but would have given you enough time to make the trip back to the elevator. (if: $memloss is true)[The Mem-Burn you found in the bathroom provided further evidence of a concerted effort to prevent your attending the deal. Bound and gagged, forced to wait until tomorrow, unable to recall *anything*? You would have missed it for sure.] Had you tried to prevent yourself from making the deal? Why go to such lengths? (if: $memloss is true)[Answers do not come, but at least you have both portions of the keycard. Leaving your room is now possible.] [[Collect the cards, and move back towards the center of the room.->LOOKING AROUND]]

Reaching down, you indeed find something: a crumpled bit of packaging. Straightening out the cardboard, a smaller chunk of plastic slides out. You recognize it as a stereotypical hotel keycard, or at least a fragment of one. The holostrip along the back is broken, by itself it wouldn't function. (set: $memloss to true) It's the packaging that's more intriguing, however. *Mem-Burn*, it labels itself as you read the fine print aloud. "WARNING: active ingredients will cause memory loss ranging from temporary to permanent, depending on dose. Use with CAUTION." The package is empty, but at least one part of your mystery situation becomes clear. This has to be why your short-term memory was little more than a gaping wound, black and empty, like a missing tooth. Why would you have done this to yourself? (If: $unlockdoor is true)[It had to be tied to the collection of cards you had found upon the nightstand. Bound and gagged, your memory wiped clean-- had you not broken free early, you would have undoubtedly missed the meeting the black card promised. Troubling. At the very least, you have both portions of the keycard now. Leaving your room is now possible.] [[There is nothing more to see here. Hold onto the keycard fragment, and step back.->Hotel Bathroom]]

The door you find is as undecorated as the rest, but it's label promises the clothing you so clearly need. *Wardrobe.* You also notice a small indicator below the handle, quietly proclaiming the room was *Unoccupied.* Perfect. Glancing once more down the hallway, your naked form passes through the portal as the door opens before you. If you were expecting something akin to a closet, what you enter into leaves you sorely disappointed. There are no shelves, no hangings racks with textiles and outfits. Only a sterile room greets you, quite claustrophobic given how small it is, and reminding you a bit of a bathroom given the tiles on the walls and a drain visible on the floor. Several of the tiles are oddly shaped, the gap between them and their neighbors larger. On the far wall, a touch-screen panel flickers to life. *Welcome to this Wardrobe Device. Please approach for ocular scan and identification.* [[Strange. Examine one of the oddly shaped tiles.->Tile Check]] [[Approach the touch-screen panel.->Wardrobe II]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/G0lGB6M.png" width="55%" height="55%"> (set: $methelp2 to true)(set: $debt to it + 30)(set: $debtFrontNude to true) Advancing quickly down the hallway, you approach a clear glass window, a door set into it. It's hard not to expect another setback as you give the door's handle a yank, that would just be your luck, but it swings open with only the barest effort. Passing through subjects you to natural light for the first time since your awakening, an experience that leaves you dazed and blinking. Your eyes do eventually adapt, revealing a cozy room, complete with a woman seated behind a semi-transparent desk. (if: $methelp is true)[The violet, semi-transparent top-- that smile, you've met this woman before. It's the same servant who had answered your call for room service, and her perchant for amused looks clearly had not left her. The chain run between her wrists clinks softly as she lifts them, a gesture of greeting set alongside another appraising look of your nude body. "Ah, hello again, Ma'am. I see you are still enjoying yourself, but I am required to inform you that Aekora in general and this establishment in particular does feature robust public decency laws and attendant fines. Your violation has been noted. We can discuss that and whatever else you desire further, but perhaps first you would like to get dressed? There is a Wardrobe device back down the way you came, past your room."](else:)[The woman is somewhere near your own age, wearing a hotel worker's uniform-- but of an outlandish style and cut. Rendered in slick, glossy material, the woman's uniform is utterly tight. Her pencil skirt hugs wide hips, while a corset embraces her midsection, allowing a violet bodice that emerges above. She's quite busty, and the purple material is semi-transparent, allowing a clear view of her pierced nipples. Her brightly painted lips open as she greets you. "Good day, Ma'am. I am required to inform you that Aekora in general and this establishment in particular does feature robust public decency laws and attendant fines. Your violation has been noted. We can discuss that and whatever else you desire further, but perhaps first you would like to get dressed? There is a Wardrobe device back down the way you came, past your room."] [["U-Uh, right..." Find that Wardrobe.->Wardrobe I]]

Exploring down the darker portion of the corridor, you pass several more doors, each numbered in the same manner as the one you just left. Obviously further hotel rooms. Reaching the end where the hallway ends at a blank wall, you're just about to turn around cursing your foolishness when you realize the final door is labeled differently. Instead of a number, it features a label: *Wardrobe.* [[Finally, some clothes! Enter the door.->Wardrobe I]] [[I shouldn't be exploring, not in the nude! I should try and find that front desk. Head back down the hallway.->NudeFront]]

Ignoring the bright glow of the panel nearby, you instead approach one of the larger tiles built into the sidewall. It's shaped like a trapezoid, a far cry from the squares that surround it. Pressing your hand against it, you feel a bit of movement, as if the entire thing was designed to perhaps slide out or in on command. Given that a half dozen other strangely shaped tiles can be counted at a quick glance, you feel a slight chill run down your spine. Just what was this tiny room intended for? [[It's time to check that touch display.->Wardrobe II]] [[I'm getting the hell out of here.->Wardrobe Bad Exit]]

Crossing the room isn't much of an effort, you can barely manage a step before bumping up against the wall opposite. The bright display screen greets you with a sudden flash, your eyes watering and several moments of frantic blinking required before you can look again at the small screen. *Thank you for staying at Diarch's Choice Hotel. This is a Class III Laminate Wardrobe Device, and is capable of manufacturing from custom ROMs of a Class III nature. If you have a custom ROM you wish to utilize, please insert your clip now.* It waits several seconds, the final line of instruction blinking. Once it becomes apparent you barely have an understanding of what it meant, much less a 'custom ROM', the machine continues. *You have not chosen to utilize a custom ROM. Would you like to browse our preallocated assortment of available laminate outfits?* [[Yes, finally! Outfits! Clothes! Select that.->Wardrobe III]] [[I think... maybe I should be getting out of here. Make for the door.->Wardrobe Bad Exit]]

You bite down on your fear, but cannot shake the *flight* reaction your instincts settle upon. Turning around in the small, stall-like room, you reach for the stainless steel door handle... and it doesn't turn. The display panel on the far wall momentarily changes, providing an explanation as you try not to panic: *Nudity detected. Aekoran law requires all slaves and women of freewomb status meet basic decency considerations before departure. Please explore this Wardrobe device's catalog at your convenience, and select a complimentary free design of your choice!* The cheery message retreats, and you're left without much of a choice. [[Return to the display screen.->Wardrobe II]]

*You have selected to browse our pre-allocated catalog,* the screen informs you. *All purchases are final. Wardrobe outfits are guaranteed under normal use-conditions for a period of 24 hours from time of application. Please remember to keep Torei clean, and properly recycle any hard-formed accessories at any other Wardrobe device.* The text slides upwards, replaced by a message up top and five tantalizing options listed below it. Your Diarch's Choice balance is currently: negative (print: $debt) credits. *Account balances may be discussed at the front desk, and must be zeroed out before leaving the premises.* Please select an oufit for further information: [[Classic 8-Point Catsuit, Metallic Blue (Free!)->Blue Cat]] [[Classic Smoke Grey Catsuit and Harness (Free!)->Smoke Cat]] [[Branded Ballet Catsuit, Advertisement-Supported (-50 credits if worn at least ten hours)->Branded Cat]] [[Sexretarial Delight, (+50 credit fee)->Sec Cat]] [[Slave-Rated Enclosure Suit, (+150 credit fee)->Slave Cat]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/UD5UqLx.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> The screen displays a model wearing the selected outfit. It's sleek, form-fitting, and rendered entirely in a material labeled as *laminate*. Even in the simulated light, the design seems to sparkle with the metallic hues embedded in the glossy material. Black gloves and ankle-high boots are visble as well, the later featuring five-inch stilleto heels. The '7-point' descriptor from the previous menu is described as indicating the inclusion of seven black laminate bondage-ready accessories. Two wrist cuffs, two bicep cuffs, two ankle cuffs, the belt around the waist, and a collar around the neck. Matching makeup is include, and the cost is listed as FREE. A seperate warning lists the various restraints as "time-locked". [[This one will have to do. At least it's free? Confirm your order.->Blue Confirm]] [[This isn't the selection for me, go back to the main menu.->Wardrobe III]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/WEdo76r.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> The screen displays a model wearing the selected outfit. It's sleek, form-fitting, and rendered entirely in a material labeled as *laminate*. The suit is also clearly semi-transparent, the thickened black strip between the legs that contained a zipper providing a modicum of decency, but it's hard to imagine wearing something from throat to toes that covered *less.* Accessories are listed as a set of black wrist-gloves, five inch heeled stiletto boots, and the pictured upper body harness, waist belt, and thigh cuffs. Those last three are marked as 'restraint ready'. Matching makeup is included, and the cost is listed as FREE. A seperate warning lists the various restraints as "time-locked". [[This one will have to do. At least it's free? Confirm your order.->Smoke Confirm]] [[This isn't the selection for me, go back to the main menu.->Wardrobe III]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/vaDhUa4.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> The screen displays a model wearing the selected outfit. It's sleek, form-fitting, and rendered entirely in a material labeled as *laminate*. The primary coloration is black, but Torean-script words are boldly emblazoned along the arms and thighs. Translation indicates the name brand of a mid-tier Torean slave trading firm, as well as inviting others to 'submit to advert-wear to earn credits!' It appears terribly degrading. Accesories are listed as the pictured corset, the design featuring 'real steel' boning custom-measured to both fit the wearer and match brand requirements, as well as the pictured shoes. Those are labeled as 'ballet', and are clearly of a design that would make even standing upright a challenge-- much less walking! Matching makeup is included, and the display is quick to remind you that wearing this outfit would automatically award 50 credits to your account. A seperate warning lists the various restraints as "time-locked". [[I'm not looking forward to those shoes, but this is the smart financial choice. Confirm this selection->Brand Confirm]] [[I can't wear those shoes! Go back to the main menu.->Wardrobe III]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/mEoSzB3.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> The screen displays a model wearing the selected outfit. It's sleek, form-fitting, and rendered entirely in a material labeled as *laminate*. Unlike some of the other available options, this design is at least somewhat comparable to offworld norms-- if one ignored the glossy material used, and tight cut of the shirt above. Accessories are listed as the pictured pair of four inch open-front pumps, and the peplum skirt around the waist. Matching makeup is include, and the cost is listed as being 50 additional credits. [[It's certainly the most normal, if a bit pricy. Confirm this choice.->Sec Confirm]] [[This isn't the selection for me, go back to the main menu.->Wardrobe III]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/7hkuAc4.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> The screen displays several models wearing the selected outfit, their uniformity only broken by their individual physical proportions. It's sleek, form-fitting, and rendered entirely in a material labeled as *laminate*. Midnight black and clearly uncomfortable to wear, the oufits nevertheless spark something deep within your subconscious. A lost memory, perhaps? No matter how much you pull at that strand, nothing surfaces. Flashing brightly, a warning is appended to this outfit: *This is a standardized Slave-Rated Wardrobe outfit, as described in the Aekoran Slave Codes, Chapter 812, subsection 10. Wearing this uniform will subject all Slaves to High Protocol Laws as described in the Aekoran Slave Code, Chapter 679. Freewombs wearing this uniform will be subjected to portions of the Slave Code, and certain liberties may be revoked.* Accessories are listed as the pictured corset, heels, regulation mask, posture collar, and (non-pictured) inserts. The corset is noted as featuring 'real steel' boning, and is custom-measured to match standard Torean expectations of functional corsetry. So too does the posture collar proudly proclaim its core as being 'real steel', as well as meeting all Aekoran slave law requirements. The heels are listed as six inches in height, with one inch platforms. The mask is simply described as rated for Torean storms, as well as regulating oxygen intake. And the inserts? Those are described as front and rear installation, custom-molded for maximum stimulation. All devices feature 10 hour self-release locks. Makeup is included as well, while the price is listed as requiring an extra 150 credit fee. You absolutely cannot understand why anyone would pay *more* for such things to be inflicted upon them. Yet looking back up at those models, perhaps there is something that yearns within, to add a fifth uniformally adorned and restrained woman to that lineup... [[You're not sure why... but this calls to you. You hand shakes as you make for the Confirmation button...->Slave Confirm]] [[Why would I chose to subject myself to all of that!? Go back to the main menu.->Wardrobe III]]

*Order... Confirmed. Enjoy.* The display winks out of existence, and for the briefest of moments you are left to ponder your decision. Your revery is broken by the quiet whirl of machines moving, however, as you notice the various strangely shaped tiles along the walls kicking out. Appendages emerge, mechanical arms of several different kinds. You don't have time to catalog them, hell, you barely have time to gasp before they seize you. At wrist and ankle, and around the throat, padded rings snap against and then around your soft flesh. Then the grip, legs forced apart as your arms are lifted above your head. Had they not also supported, you would have certainly fallen. [["What the hell!? Get these off of me!"->Resist Blue]] [[Keep your cool. Wait it out.->Blue Confirm2]]

*Order... Confirmed. Enjoy.* The display winks out of existence, and for the briefest of moments you are left to ponder your decision. Your revery is broken by the quiet whirl of machines moving, however, as you notice the various strangely shaped tiles along the walls kicking out. Appendages emerge, mechanical arms of several different kinds. You don't have time to catalog them, hell, you barely have time to gasp before they seize you. At wrist and ankle, and around the throat, padded rings snap against and then around your soft flesh. Then the grip, legs forced apart as your arms are lifted above your head. Had they not also supported, you would have certainly fallen. [["What the hell!? Get these off of me!"->Resist Smoke]] [[Keep your cool. Wait it out.->Smoke Confirm2]]

*Order... Confirmed. Enjoy.* The display winks out of existence, and for the briefest of moments you are left to ponder your decision. Your revery is broken by the quiet whirl of machines moving, however, as you notice the various strangely shaped tiles along the walls kicking out. Appendages emerge, mechanical arms of several different kinds. You don't have time to catalog them, hell, you barely have time to gasp before they seize you. At wrist and ankle, and around the throat, padded rings snap against and then around your soft flesh. Then the grip, legs forced apart as your arms are lifted above your head. Had they not also supported, you would have certainly fallen. (set: $debt to it - 50) (set: $debtBrand to true) [["What the hell!? Get these off of me!"->Brand Resist]] [[Keep your cool. Wait it out.->Brand Confirm2]]

*Order... Confirmed. Enjoy.* The display winks out of existence, and for the briefest of moments you are left to ponder your decision. Your revery is broken by the quiet whirl of machines moving, however, as you notice the various strangely shaped tiles along the walls kicking out. Appendages emerge, mechanical arms of several different kinds. You don't have time to catalog them, hell, you barely have time to gasp before they seize you. At wrist and ankle, and around the throat, padded rings snap against and then around your soft flesh. Then the grip, legs forced apart as your arms are lifted above your head. Had they not also supported, you would have certainly fallen. (set: $debt to it + 50) (set: $debtSec to true) [["What the hell!? Get these off of me!"->Resist Sec]] [[Keep your cool. Wait it out.->Sec Confirm2]]

*Order... Confirmed. Assume the position.* The display winks out of existence, and for the briefest of moments you are left to ponder your decision. Your revery is broken by the quiet whirl of machines moving, however, as you notice the various strangely shaped tiles along the walls kicking out. Appendages emerge, mechanical arms of several different kinds. You don't have time to catalog them, hell, you barely have time to gasp before they seize you. At wrist and ankle, and around the throat, padded rings snap against and then around your soft flesh. Then the grip, legs forced apart as your arms are lifted above your head. Had they not also supported, you would have certainly fallen. (set: $debt to it + 150) (set: $debtSlave to true) [["What the hell!? Get these off of me!"->Resist Slave]] [[Keep your cool. Wait it out.->Slave Confirm2]]

You pull against the restraining arms, eyes wide as other devices emerge from the walls. Compared to your earlier experience on your own bed, these at least have some give-- your first yank of the arm nearly sends you tumbling over, but the arm momentarily loses grip on you entirely. This *can* be escaped! If not for the arm behind you, waiting silently. You do not see it, but you certainly *feel* the sudden snap of electricty that bursts upon your rear, pain receptors announcing the experience with a unified yelp that matches the sound that emerges from your own lips. *REMAIN STILL.* The display had returned to life to deliver the command, the cold steel of what you can only imagine to be a cattle prod still poised against her buttocks. You take a deep breath... and settle back as the arm restraint returns. *Minor damage has been recorded to Arm 5-L-6. A 20 credit charge has been made to your account.* (set: $debt to it + 20) (set: $debtResist to true) [[Well, that didn't work.->Blue Confirm2]]

The urge is there to close your eyes, as if ignorance could prevent what was about to occur. But your confidence holds, allowing you the only seat in the house as the show begins. Further mechanical arms and implements emerge, the largest being a ring wide enough that it barely fit the small room. It hovers above you, a far too large halo, before the device descends. Nozzles built into the ring emit a pungent substance as soon as it descends past your neck. For a moment you think it paint, and it does adhere like the stuff, but the sensation is fleeting-- as following the emitters a white-light laser passes over the freshly applied material, and it flash-cools. What had been a thick spray is now a thin, slick, glossy material. Cold upon your skin, but already your body is warming it up. Torei's all but sacred material, its most readily available substance: **laminate.** Thus your metallic blue suit is quiet literally printed on, the ring descending bit by bit, rendering soft flesh into equally soft but so very *different* laminate. Secondary arms follow it down, providing spot treatment along seams and friction points-- although often the effect is for merely aesthetic purposes. Sometimes that takes the form of a second application of laminate, other times it lingers to produce something more substantial-- such as the zipper between your legs, the tiny metal components pre-formed and merely placed by the rapid-fire staccato movements of a particuarly agile mechanized arm. You're given no time to rest as the base layer concludes, the ring rapidly ascending as other arms move into the space to begin work on your accessories. Your black gloves are printed, while a longer period is required for the Wardrobe to build up the necessary thickness required of your eight points of restraint. Those are affixed at ankle, wrist, bicep, waist, and throat. Again the metal hardpoints are installed last, emerging fully formed from hidden storage components. A far less expensive option then flash-casting steel. The final componenent of your outfit comes with the sensation of your own feet rising, the sensation unequal and focused primarily at your heel. Without the restraint arms you would have toppled over, but they hold you tight, tall heels being extruded into place. Black laminate follows, coating your feet and providing the anchor on which laces are quickly assembled. Almost as an afterthought, the promised makeup is applied last. Mechanical arms seize your head, holding it tight as nozzles approach your face. A quick blast of air instinctively causes your eyes to close, and in that brief moment the Wardrobe does its work. Your eyelids have been darkened, the corners twinkling with flecks of metallic blue to match your suit. Pores and blemishes have been rendered impotent as well, while your cheekbones have been highlighted. And your lips are now a dark blue, the white of your teeth blinding against them as you gasp slightly. Then, with a final flash of white light and a conclusive hiss, the armatures withdraw. [["Wow."->Blue III]] [["That was... incredible."->Blue III]] [[That was **terrifying!**"->Blue III]]

The urge is there to close your eyes, as if ignorance could prevent what was about to occur. But your confidence holds, allowing you the only seat in the house as the show begins. Further mechanical arms and implements emerge, the largest being a ring wide enough that it barely fit the small room. It hovers above you, a far too large halo, before the device descends. Nozzles built into the ring emit a pungent substance as soon as it descends past your neck. For a moment you think it paint, and it does adhere like the stuff, but the sensation is fleeting-- as following the emitters a white-light laser passes over the freshly applied material, and it flash-cools. What had been a thick spray is now a thin, slick, glossy material. Cold upon your skin, but already your body is warming it up. Torei's all but sacred material, its most readily available substance: **laminate.** Thus your suit is quiet literally printed on, first applying inky black but growing semi-transparent (and thus *smokey*) once flash-cooled. The ring descending bit by bit, rendering soft flesh into equally soft but so very *different* laminate. Secondary arms follow it down, providing spot treatment along seams and friction points-- although often the effect is for merely aesthetic purposes. Sometimes that takes the form of a second application of laminate, other times it lingers to produce something more substantial-- such as the black strip and zipper between your legs, the tiny metal components pre-formed and merely placed by the rapid-fire staccato movements of a particuarly agile mechanized arm. You're given no time to rest as the base layer concludes, the ring rapidly ascending as other arms move into the space to begin work on your accessories. Your black gloves are printed, while a longer period is required for the Wardrobe to build up the necessary thickness required of your thigh cuffs, belt and harness. The last seems far too lose, but another pass of the setting laser causes the material to constrict hugging tight to your shoulders and the space below your chest. Again the metal hardpoints are installed last, emerging fully formed from hidden storage components. A far less expensive option then flash-casting steel. The final componenent of your outfit comes with the sensation of your own feet rising, the sensation unequal and focused primarily at your heel. Without the restraint arms you would have toppled over, but they hold you tight, tall heels being extruded into place. Black laminate follows, coating your feet and providing the anchor on which laces are quickly assembled. Almost as an afterthought, the promised makeup is applied last. Mechanical arms seize your head, holding it tight as nozzles approach your face. A quick blast of air instinctively causes your eyes to close, and in that brief moment the Wardrobe does its work. Your eyelids have been substantially darkened, stylish wingtips form at the outer edges. Pores and blemishes have been rendered impotent as well, while your cheekbones have been highlighted. And your lips are now a dark black, the white of your teeth blinding against them as you gasp slightly. Then, with a final flash of white light and a conclusive hiss, the armatures withdraw. [["Wow."->Smoke III]] [["The transparency is kind of... eye catching?"->Smoke III]] [[That was **terrifying!**"->Smoke III]]

The urge is there to close your eyes, as if ignorance could prevent what was about to occur. But your confidence holds, allowing you the only seat in the house as the show begins. Further mechanical arms and implements emerge, the largest being a ring wide enough that it barely fit the small room. It hovers above you, a far too large halo, before the device descends. Nozzles built into the ring emit a pungent substance as soon as it descends past your neck. For a moment you think it paint, and it does adhere like the stuff, but the sensation is fleeting-- as following the emitters a white-light laser passes over the freshly applied material, and it flash-cools. What had been a thick spray is now a thin, slick, glossy material. Cold upon your skin, but already your body is warming it up. Torei's all but sacred material, its most readily available substance: **laminate.** Thus your suit is quiet literally printed on, the base layer a solid midnight black. The ring descends bit by bit, rendering soft flesh into equally soft but so very *different* laminate. Secondary arms follow it down, providing spot treatment along seams and friction points-- although most of their effort is focused upon the design work of the advertisements and designs now intended to grace your body. Bold lines run from the white ring around the suit's collar, down your shoulders. Other similar designs are placed upon your biceps and near the knee. The largest are those on your hips (blocky letters spelling out a slaving firm's name), your chest (which features their vaguely triangular logo), and your back (which encourages others to 'submit to advert-wear today!). A final arm lingers between your legs, working on the zipper located there, the tiny metal components pre-formed and merely placed by the rapid-fire staccato movements of a particuarly agile mechanized arm. You're given no time to rest as the base layer concludes, the ring rapidly ascending as other arms move into the space to begin work on the most intensive component of your outfit: the corset. Several times the arms work along your midsection, printing in thick black material, before pre-forged strips of steel emerge. Those would be the bones that ensured a corset could trim the waist effectively, and once submerged into the thick material a final flash of light sets the material. Its not until synthetic lacing is carefully worked in a pattern through the holes along your back that the device actually begins to function, however. With every tug it grows tighter, never painful, but definitely uncomfortable. By the time the Wardrobe concludes, your chest is thrust out in response, while your back is straight and breathing takes some effort. The final componenent of your outfit comes with the sensation of your own feet rising, the sensation unequal and focused entirely at your heel. Without the restraint arms you would have toppled over, but they hold you tight, towering stilleto heels being extruded into place. Black laminate follows, coating your feet and providing the anchor on which laces are quickly assembled. You are now permanently *en pointe*, or as anyone would immediately notice: on your toes. Almost as an afterthought, the promised makeup is applied last. Mechanical arms seize your head, holding it tight as nozzles approach your face. A quick blast of air instinctively causes your eyes to close, and in that brief moment the Wardrobe does its work. Your eyelids have been darkened and your eyelashes extending, producing an alluring effect. Pores and blemishes have been rendered impotent as well, while your cheekbones have been highlighted. And your lips are now a warm red coloration, the triangular logo on your chest repeated in miniature at the center of your bottom lip. Then, with a final flash of white light and a conclusive hiss, the armatures withdraw. [["Wow."->Brand III]] [["I look like a glossy billboard!"->Brand III]] [[That was **terrifying!**"->Brand III]]

You pull against the restraining arms, eyes wide as other devices emerge from the walls. Compared to your earlier experience on your own bed, these at least have some give-- your first yank of the arm nearly sends you tumbling over, but the arm momentarily loses grip on you entirely. This *can* be escaped! If not for the arm behind you, waiting silently. You do not see it, but you certainly *feel* the sudden snap of electricty that bursts upon your rear, pain receptors announcing the experience with a unified yelp that matches the sound that emerges from your own lips. *REMAIN STILL.* The display had returned to life to deliver the command, the cold steel of what you can only imagine to be a cattle prod still poised against her buttocks. You take a deep breath... and settle back as the arm restraint returns. *Minor damage has been recorded to Arm 5-L-6. A 200 credit charge has been made to your account.* (set: $debt to it + 20) (set: $debtResist to true) [[Well, that didn't work.->Sec Confirm2]]

The urge is there to close your eyes, as if ignorance could prevent what was about to occur. But your confidence holds, allowing you the only seat in the house as the show begins. Further mechanical arms and implements emerge, the largest being a ring wide enough that it barely fit the small room. It hovers above you, a far too large halo, before the device descends. Nozzles built into the ring emit a pungent substance as soon as it descends past your neck. For a moment you think it paint, and it does adhere like the stuff, but the sensation is fleeting-- as following the emitters a white-light laser passes over the freshly applied material, and it flash-cools. What had been a thick spray is now a thin, slick, glossy material. Cold upon your skin, but already your body is warming it up. Torei's all but sacred material, its most readily available substance: **laminate.** Thus your outfit is quiet literally printed on, first applying bright white but transitioning to an equally vibrant shade of red as it passes your waist and forms a stylish pencil skirt. The ring descending bit by bit, rendering soft flesh into equally soft but so very *different* laminate. Secondary arms follow it down, providing spot treatment along seams and friction points-- although often the effect is for merely aesthetic purposes. Sometimes that takes the form of a second application of laminate, other times it lingers to produce something more substantial-- such as the small folded collar just beneath your chin, or the buttons that almost immediately strain to keep your bust constained by your bodice. You're given no time to rest as the base layer concludes, the ring rapidly ascending as other arms move into the space to begin work on your accessories. The peplum skirt you saw pictured is thus formed, starting with the belt at your waist. Small pre-forged rivets are sunk into the still molton laminate before it is sealed, as is the belt loop that is seated directly over your naval. Still held in place, small arms flair the laminate that extends over your rear, achieving the look most of the galaxy would label as *slutty* but Torei saw as merely coquettish. The final componenent of your outfit comes with the sensation of your own feet rising, the sensation unequal and focused primarily at your heel. Without the restraint arms you would have toppled over, but they hold you tight, tall heels being extruded into place. More red laminate follows, coating your feet excepting the stylish hole at the very front. Almost as an afterthought, the promised makeup is applied last. Mechanical arms seize your head, holding it tight as nozzles approach your face. A quick blast of air instinctively causes your eyes to close, and in that brief moment the Wardrobe does its work. Your eyelids have been darkened, a crimson secondary coat added that flashed only when light slid across it. Pores and blemishes have been rendered impotent as well, while your cheekbones have been highlighted. And your lips are now a poignant, inviting red. Then, with a final flash of white light and a conclusive hiss, the armatures withdraw. [["Wow."->Sec III]] [["At least its... vaguely office-ready?"->Sec III]] [[That was **terrifying!**"->Sec III]]

The urge is there to close your eyes, as if ignorance could prevent what was about to occur. Why *had* you chosen the most expensive, most intensive option? But your confidence holds, allowing you the only seat in the house as the show begins. Further mechanical arms and implements emerge, the largest being a ring wide enough that it barely fit the small room. It hovers above you, a far too large halo, waiting only for an attendant arm to strategically place your blonde hair before the device descends. Nozzles built into the ring emit a pungent substance as soon as it descends past the crown of your head. For a moment you think it paint, and it does adhere like the stuff, but the sensation is fleeting-- as following the emitters a white-light laser passes over the freshly applied material, and it flash-cools. What had been a thick spray is now a thin, slick, glossy material. Holes at your mouth, nose, and eyes are quickly excised. Cold upon your skin, but already your body is warming it up. Torei's all but sacred material, its most readily available substance: **laminate.** Thus your suit is quiet literally printed on, the base layer a solid midnight black. The ring descends bit by bit, rendering soft flesh into equally soft but so very *different* laminate. Secondary arms follow it down, providing spot treatment along seams and friction points-- although often the effect is for merely aesthetic purposes. Sometimes that takes the form of a second application of laminate, other times it lingers to produce something more substantial-- such as the zipper between your legs, the tiny metal components pre-formed and merely placed by the rapid-fire staccato movements of a particuarly agile mechanized arm. You're given no time to rest as the base layer concludes, the ring rapidly ascending as other arms move into the space to begin work on the most intensive component of your outfit: the corset. Several times the arms work along your midsection, printing in thick black material, before pre-forged strips of steel emerge. Those would be the bones that ensured a corset could trim the waist effectively, and once submerged into the thick material a final flash of light sets the material. Its not until synthetic lacing is carefully worked in a pattern through the holes along your back that the device actually begins to function, however. With every tug it grows tighter, never painful, but definitely uncomfortable. By the time the Wardrobe concludes, your chest is thrust out in response, while your back is straight and breathing takes some effort. Given the intended production of a full scale regulation mask, the promised makeup is applied next. Mechanical arms seize your head, holding it tight as nozzles approach your face. A quick blast of air instinctively causes your eyes to close, and in that brief moment the Wardrobe does its work. Your eyelids have been darkened and your eyelashes extended, producing an alluring effect. And your lips are now a bright red coloration, an interesting detail given what comes next. That would be your mask, listed for *breath regulation*. You already have been provided with a thin hood much akin to the rest of your catsuit, but this secondary mask is much thicker, several armatures working together to forge it upon your face. A handful of metal components are integrated as well, but your field of vision had already been restricted enough that you barely notice. Indeed, before you know it a curved glass panel is being placed just before your eyes, the laminate seals along the edge flash-cooling. Your next breath, the first within your new enclosed environment, is thus harder. *Much* harder. You gasp, trying to suck in enough oxygen-- only for your corset's constriction to assert itself. It's a devious combination, one you would have almost certainly cursed had not the machine (and thus your own focus) already shifted elsewhere. Several attending arms move back up to your throat, casting thick laminate in yet another layer until several steel segments (much like those trimming your waist) are sunk into the material. The Wardrobe was ensuring your head remained up, but you're hit with the immediate sensation that was no longer necessary-- the collar would ensure your posture going forward. Yet another componenent of your outfit comes with the sensation of your own feet rising, the sensation unequal and primarily at your heel. Without the restraint arms you would have toppled over, but they hold you tight, tall stilleto heels and a thick platform for your toes being extruded into place. Black laminate follows, coating your feet and providing the anchor on which laces are quickly assembled. [[Is... is it over?->Slave Confirm3]]

You take a deep breath, watching the shiny blue material covering your chest gently rise and fall. The sensation is almost otherwordly, light pressure upon your body from to toe to throat, a lover's embrace you cannot escape. Excepting the zipper between your legs, there is no point of entrance, no direct break in the experience. Only smooth laminate, and the sweet scent of lingering rubber. Running a hand down the slick material reveals laminate to laminate contact to be almost frictionless. It's almost too easy to forget your own hand as it glides along your hip. The gentle *click* of the metal studded into your cuffs provide a more consistent narrative, as does the more authoritative snap of your heeled boot as you shift a bit in the Wardrobe's small confines. A sudden light breaks your self examination as the Wardrobe's display flicks back into existence, a final sentence emerging upon it. *Your dressing order has now been completed. If this machine is functioning under slave protocols, you may be held until a legally recognized owner or agent arrives to collect you. Otherwise, the door will open shortly. Watch your step, and enjoy...* The doors open as promised, ushering you back out into the dim light of the far corridor. Your path towards the Front Desk is now clear. (set: $Blue to true) [[Make your way there.->Wardrobe End]]

Slowly, you make your way down the carpeted hallway, one hand trailing on the nearest wall as you adapt to what the Wardrobe device made of you. (if: $Blue is true)[Just *walking* in laminate is an experience unto itself. Your glossy blue catsuit positively gleams as waves of light roll across it with each step, in turn highlighting your curvaceous silhouette. The heels are taller than most you had experienced, but after a few steps you achieve a comfortable gait, their height naturally inducing you to kick out your hips with each foot placed forward. Certainly they were helping with your posture. It's a strange cocktail of embarrassing and empowering to be so covered, yet exposed. Could you really wear this in public? It's not like other options present themselves.] (if: $Smoke is true)[Just *walking* in laminate is an experience unto itself. Your semi-transparent smokey catsuit positively gleams as waves of light roll across it with each step, in turn highlighting your curvaceous silhouette. A modicum of decency is preserved by the strip of black between your legs, but you can see both nipples and skin beneath, and that will certainly require some time to get used to. The heels are taller than most you had experienced as well, but after a few steps you achieve a comfortable gait, their height naturally inducing you to kick out your hips with each foot placed forward. Certainly they were helping with your posture. It's a strange cocktail of embarrassing and empowering to be so covered, yet utterly exposed. Could you really wear this in public? It's not like other options present themselves.] (if: $Brand is true)[Just *walking* in laminate is an experience unto itself. Your heavily branded catsuit positively gleams as waves of light roll across it with each step, in turn highlighting your curvaceous silhouette. The heels are another level of trial altogether, and while you do have some experience with stilettos that only keeps you from falling. You simply cannot manage more then a halting, fawn-like procession forward. You're almost helpless, although certainly they were helping with your posture. It's a strange cocktail of embarrassing and empowering to be so covered, yet exposed. Advertising your submission to the Wardrobe and the suit, for mere credits, so readily. Could you really wear this in public? It's not like other options present themselves.] (if: $Sec is true)[Just *walking* in laminate is an experience unto itself. Your secretarial uniform positively gleams as waves of light roll across it with each step, in turn highlighting your curvaceous silhouette. The heels are taller than most you had experienced, but after a few steps you achieve a comfortable gait, their height naturally inducing you to kick out your hips with each foot placed forward. Certainly they were helping with your posture. It's a strange cocktail of embarrassing and empowering to be wearing a design so nearly normal, yet perverted towards Torean fetish. Could you really wear this in public? It's not like other options present themselves.] (if: $Slave is true)[Just *walking* in laminate is an experience unto itself. Your glossy black catsuit positively gleams as waves of light roll across it with each step, in turn highlighting your curvaceous silhouette. The heels are taller than most you had experienced, but after a few steps you achieve a comfortable gait, their height naturally inducing you to kick out your hips with each foot placed forward. Certainly they were helping with your posture. Little prepares you for the shifting sensation of your inserts, however, and soon you're panting through the regulation of your mask. The cumulative effects are particularly frustrating-- each step shifts your plugs, causing you to all but gasp. You try to breath deeply afterward, but your mask prevents that, and the corset colludes as well. You've barely made it a few steps before your hand drifts absentmindedly to your legs...] (set: $showgear to true) (if: $Blue is true or $Sec is true or $Smoke is true or $Brand is true)[[[Pass through the glass barrier between the rooms and the Front Office.->The Front]]] (if: $Slave is true)[[[It feels so good...->Slave Pause]]]

You take a deep breath, watching the semi-transparent material covering your chest gently rise and fall. Your nipples are hard, and clearly visible you note immediately. The sensation is almost otherwordly, light pressure upon your body from to toe to throat, a lover's embrace you cannot escape. Excepting the zipper between your legs, there is no point of entrance, no direct break in the experience. Only smooth laminate, and the sweet scent of lingering rubber. Running a hand down the slick material reveals laminate to laminate contact to be almost frictionless. It's almost too easy to forget your own hand as it glides along your hip. The gentle *click* of the metal studded into your cuffs provide a more consistent narrative, as does the more authoritative snap of your heeled boot as you shift a bit in the Wardrobe's small confines. A sudden light breaks your self examination as the Wardrobe's display flicks back into existence, a final sentence emerging upon it. *Your dressing order has now been completed. If this machine is functioning under slave protocols, you may be held until a legally recognized owner or agent arrives to collect you. Otherwise, the door will open shortly. Watch your step, and enjoy...* The doors open as promised, ushering you back out into the dim light of the far corridor. Your path towards the Front Desk is now clear. (set: $Smoke to true) [[Make your way there.->Wardrobe End]]

You take a deep breath, watching the logo emblazoned upon the glossy material covering your chest gently rise and fall. Your posture is ensured by the corset, while also making each breath a bit of an effort, at least until your body adapted. The sensation of the laminate is almost otherwordly, light pressure upon your body from to toe to throat, a lover's embrace you cannot escape. Excepting the zipper between your legs, there is no point of entrance, no direct break in the experience. Only smooth laminate, and the sweet scent of lingering rubber. Running a hand down the slick material reveals laminate to laminate contact to be almost frictionless. It's almost too easy to forget your own hand as it glides along your hip-- as you bite your branded bottom lip. The heels are far more noticable, as you're already swaying. A hand on the tiled wall keeps you upright, but already an ache is building in toes so inexperienced. You hope it will be worth the 50 credits subjecting yourself to them earned you. A sudden light breaks your self examination as the Wardrobe's display flicks back into existence, a final sentence emerging upon it. *Your dressing order has now been completed. If this machine is functioning under slave protocols, you may be held until a legally recognized owner or agent arrives to collect you. Otherwise, the door will open shortly. Watch your step, and enjoy...* The doors open as promised, allowing you to shuffle awkwardly back out into the dim light of the far corridor. Your path towards the Front Desk is now clear. (set: $Brand to true) [[Make your way there.->Wardrobe End]]

You take a deep breath, watching the milky white material covering your chest gently rise and fall. The sensation is almost otherwordly, light pressure upon most of your body, a lover's embrace you cannot escape. Your legs shift uneasily, the skirt's presence having diminished how far you could step. Smooth laminate would dictate so much now, and you clearly recognize a lingering hint of a sweet rubber scent. Running a hand down the slick material of your tiny peplum skirt reveals laminate to laminate contact to be almost frictionless as it glides along your longer pencil skirt. Your arms are almost chilly in comparison to the warmth the laminate provides as well. It nearly feels like a regret, you realize with velvet red lips pursed in consideration, that you had not chosen a more... enclosing option. A sudden light breaks your self examination as the Wardrobe's display flicks back into existence, a final sentence emerging upon it. *Your dressing order has now been completed. If this machine is functioning under slave protocols, you may be held until a legally recognized owner or agent arrives to collect you. Otherwise, the door will open shortly. Watch your step, and enjoy...* The doors open as promised, ushering you back out into the dim light of the far corridor. Your path towards the Front Desk is now clear. (set: $Sec to true) [[Make your way there.->Wardrobe End]]

No further warning is given. With sudden explosive action, the inserts drive forward. They find the waiting holes readily enough, then twist, as if screwing their way into your body. Despite yourself a moan escapes your ruby red (and masked) lips as you're pierced from both ends. They plunge further, and further-- your mind screams for an end, your body assures you it cannot take anymore. Yet it does. Still further, further, further... Until you're hilted on the ends, hips swaying minutely as you try fruitlessly to adapt to the sensation. It may be amusing in restrospect, if you ever allow yourself to remember this moment, how gentle the final arm is that pulls your zipper closed again. A small padlock on the end is almost an afterthought. Then, with a final flash of white light and a conclusive hiss, the armatures withdraw. You collapse to your knees, the short distance an altogether new experience as your inserts shift deep within your cunt and rear. Again you moan, this time frustrated with yourself as you try to focus, breathing hard against the stricture of your mask. It takes several minutes, but eventually you find yourself watching the tight, glossy material covering your chest gently rise and fall. Your posture is ensured by the corset, while also making each breath a bit of an effort, at least until your body adapted. The sensation of the laminate is almost otherwordly as well, light pressure upon your body from toe to head, a lover's embrace you cannot escape. Excepting the zipper between your legs (and that is locked), there is no point of entrance, no direct break in the experience. Only smooth laminate, and the labored sound of your own breathing. Running a hand down the slick material reveals laminate to laminate contact to be almost frictionless. It's almost too easy to forget your own hand as it glides along your thigh-- as a strong compulsion draws the limb inward, towards the nexus of your legs. You resist... for the moment. Instead you struggle back to your feet, biting your lip, pelvis thrusting slightly in reaction to the sensations within. Your heels do not help matters, the effect of being forced onto your toes one that will certainly take some effort to combat. A sudden light breaks your self examination as the Wardrobe's display flicks back into existence, a final sentence emerging upon it. *Your dressing order has now been completed. If this machine is functioning under slave protocols, you may be held until a legally recognized owner or agent arrives to collect you. Otherwise, the door will open shortly. Watch your step, and enjoy...* The doors open as promised, allowing you to shuffle awkwardly back out into the dim light of the far corridor. Your path towards the Front Desk is now clear. (set: $Status to 2) [[Make your way there.->Wardrobe End]]

No. One last accessory remains, having been listed on the original selection as... **inserts**. Adrenaline shoots through your system as the Wardrobe realigns itself again, this time positioning two large arms, one before your lower torso, the other just behind it. Long, thick cylinder-like forms begin to extrude from the arms, taking the shape of what you recognize quite immediately as masculine physiology. As they work, another more nimble arm presses forward, seizing upon the only zipper on your suit. A mathematically simple arc carries it down between your legs, exposing a set of holes matched so perfectly to the now fully formed dildos. Your body tenses as a syrup-like lubricant is applied to each. (set: $Slave to true) [[Focus on your breathing.->Slave III]] [["Get those things away from me! HELP!"->SlaveResist]]

You pull hard against the arms still holding you, doing anything you could to pull your womanhood away from the lewd phallus all but ready to plunge inside. Perhaps if you had *really* tried before, you could have escaped the Wardrobe's clutches. Now? Your mask ensures the effort quickly leaves you breathless, while your corset and collar prevent much in the way of squirming. And that's ignoring completely the sudden snap of electricty against your backside, a lingering arm providing harsh collective action. You collapse back into your restraints as the display flashes its disapprovement. *Submission to a slave-graded suit includes acceptable of certain slavery codes, despite your freewomb status. A fee of 20 credits has been added to your account for this transgression. It is recommended you focus on your breathing.* (set: $debt to it + 20) (set: $debtResist2 to true) [[It's not like you have a choice.->Slave III]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/G0lGB6M.png" width="55%" height="55%"> Natural light stabs sharp lines onto the marble floor of the small atrium you emerge into, columns at all four corners rising to a recessed ceiling very similar to the one within your room. Another glass door clearly leaves outside, but blinking away the overexposure from that portal, you instead turn towards the only other object of note: a woman, seated behind a transparent desk. (if: $methelp is true)["Hello again!" She greets, smiling. It's the woman from before, perhaps the hotel's only employee. Her unifrom has not changed since you last saw her, the vaguely business cut to it made lewd by the transparency of her violet top. Her pierced nipples glint in the light.](else:)[The woman is somewhere near your own age, wearing a hotel worker's uniform-- but of an outlandish style and cut. Rendered in slick, glossy material, the woman's uniform is utterly tight. Her pencil skirt hugs wide hips, while a corset embraces her midsection, allowing a violet bodice that emerges above. She's quite busty, and the purple material is semi-transparent, allowing a clear view of her pierced nipples. Her brightly painted lips open as she greets you. "Good day, Ma'am! Please, step up to the counter."] (if: $Blue is true)[She looks over your outfit with a discerning eye, the short chain linking her wrist cuffs together clinking as she gestures in your direction. "I see you've embraced Torei fashion, how wonderful, ma'am! Your attire the last few days must be quite stylish offworld, I'm sure, but there is something to be said for... local customs, is there not? But listen to me, I imagine you wish to check out?] (if: $Smoke is true)[She looks over your outfit with a discerning eye, the short chain linking her wrist cuffs together clinking as she gestures in your direction. "I see you've embraced Torei fashion, how wonderful, ma'am! And a particularly... visible one at that, hm? Your attire the last few days must be quite stylish offworld, I'm sure, but there is something to be said for... local customs, is there not? But I imagine you wish to check out?] (if: $Brand is true)[She looks over your outfit with a discerning eye, the short chain linking her wrist cuffs together clinking as she gestures in your direction. "I see you've submitted to advert-wear. Danise Incorporated is a well regarded, if small, slave trading firm. You could have done much worse to be branded by them. Your attire the last few days must be quite stylish offworld, I'm sure, but there is something to be said for... local customs, is there not? The shoes are interesting, though. Don't worry, few people enjoy ballet heels, but you get used to them. Sort of... but listen to me ramble, I imagine you wish to check out, ma'am?] (if: $Sec is true)[She looks over your outfit with a discerning eye, the short chain linking her wrist cuffs together clinking as she gestures in your direction. "I see you've embraced Torei fashion, how wonderful, ma'am! And a particularly... professional one at that! It looks quite liberting, I must admit. Freewombs are allowed such things, though, I suppose. Your attire the last few days must be quite stylish offworld, but there is something to be said for... local customs, is there not? Ah, but I imagine you wish to check out?] (if: $Slave is true)[She looks over your outfit with widened eyes, the short chain linking her wrist cuffs together clinking as her smile only widens to the point of deep amusement. "I see you have... quite readily embraced Torean culture, ma'am! That is a very ambitious outfit for an offworlder. Even for a freewomb, here in Aekora us slaves wear that sort of gear. Very fun though..." She winks. "Expensive too. Perhaps we should discuss your checking out?"] [["Yes, perhaps we should."->Front II]] (if: $Brand is true)[[["Wait, there are worse brand options then slavers?"->Front Brand]]] (if: $Slave is true)[[["Wait, you're a slave...?->AskAskSlave]]]

Your rational mind certainly has some questions. Perhaps the first is what compelled you to choose this particular design from that Wardrobe device. But more readily? Why you can't stop the fingers that slide along your corset, downward, below your naval. The answer? Your body knows what it wants. It ignores your currently quite public position in the middle of a hallway as your legs give out, falling to your knees upon the floor. Your more sensible hand moves to your mask, trying weakly to push it off, to free yourself from the strict breath regulation. Your other, however, traces tantalizingly along the base of your front insert. Hidden by the locked zipper, but accessible by mere touch nevertheless. You moan quietly, eyes closing as you lean back onto your haunches... [[This was a terrible decision! Turn back and get another outfit!->SlavePauseNo]] [[It feels... so... good...->Slave Pause II]] [[No... not... in a hallway...->Slave Pause II]]

It doesn't matter what you *think* you want. Your body knows what to do. Nimble gloved fingers press into the laminate between your legs, shifting the cock buried there as a hiss of pleasure works through your mask regulators. You can barely breath, but that's hardly necessary, not as waves of pleasure begin to roll up against your womanhood. Overzealous motivations at first drive you into quite a bit of fumbling, but it doesn't take long for you to settle into a steady rhythm, pressing your thumb hard against the front plug as you lean further, driving the rear one into the back of your heel. Somewhere along the way the hand at your mask travels downward, finding a far more *useful* purpose at your own breast, playing with the hardened bud as you wantonly pleasure yourself. The waves of ecstasy rise, eventually overtoppign you in a final tsunami of sensation. Do you even truly experience it? Already an amnesiac, you're not sure on this one-- all you recall is the sweet pulses from your cunt dissolving into static, everything going blank... Until you rouse, a pile of black laminate gasping on the hotel hallway floor. It takes you several long moments before you can pull yourself back to your knees, and from there your feet. Your plugged cunt's aching desire had momentarily fled, but you are treated to the sensation of your own bodily juices shifting within. Wearily you push open the glass door to the lobby before you. [[Did that... really just happen? Pull yourself together!->The Front]]

"Sure!" The girl enthuses, sliding to her left, where a haptic computer is projected in the space above that portion of the desk. Torean script emerges as she pulls up your account, but basic security measures ensure you can't make out anything from your vantage anyway. "First off, your keycard?" With a bit of reluctance, you slide the twined pieces across the transparent desk to her. She eyes the broken card for a moment, but her smile never fades. "Well," she notes, collecting the pieces and tossing them in a nearby trash bin. "You will be charged for keycard replacement, I hope that is acceptable, ma'am? It's only 20 credits. How were you intended to address your outstanding balance? I do not have account on record. Credit chit, perhaps?" (set: $debtCard to true) (set: $debt to it +20) [["Well, you see... I'm not sure that I have any money."->Front III]]

"Oh sure," the servant chirps, as you lean a hand upon her desk to keep your balance. "Lots of brands, they *know* they can say just about anything on that suit you submitted to. So they use it to get the attention of folks, ma'am. Imagine having **Slut** branded on your thighs, so that people watch you walk past. Then they see the *real* advert on your ass." She looks over the corporate symbols upon your own body. "You got lucky, that one is just kind of cool. I like the lip logo." [["Right, well... let's talk about checking out?"->Front II]]

The servant sets her hands down upon the desk, her cuffs clinking gently upon it. Must be glass. "I... see. This establishment is fitted with industry standard automated observation protocols, for guest protection of course. And I am seeing several such charges on your account resulting from that program. I hope you understand that I cannot advise leaving the premises with an active balance? That would require I contact the Ministry of Truants on your behalf, and you *are* a freewomb." The way she says it, that doesn't sound good. Yet her smile returns. "Given our frequent offworlder guests, however, we do feature a robust debt relief program. Would you like to explore those options? Or I would be happy to answer any other questions you may have at this time, as long as you remain within this building." [["What exactly do you mean by 'debt relief'?"->FrontQQ]] [["I DO have questions. Several. I can't recall anything from the last week!"->Front Q Start]] [["Let's talk about my debt."->Debt Avoid]]

"It would be my pleasure," she nods. "How can I assist you?" If anyone knows about what happened to you, it seems likely it would be this woman. She certainly *seems* familiar with you. [["Is there anything you can tell me about this elevator ticket?"]] [["Have you heard of 356 Cross Street, Grand Aekora?"]] [["Did you mention a... 'Ministry of Truants?' What's that?"->Min Q]] [["You said it just before, and it's on my identity card. What exactly is a freewomb?"->Freewomb Q]] (if: $Blue is true or $Smoke is true)[[["Um, is wearing cuffs... as we are, normal?"->CUFFS]]] (if: $Brand is true)[[["Is there anything I can do about these shoes? They're killing me."->SHOES]]] (if: $Slave is true)[[["Is there anything I can do about this mask? I can barely breathe."->MASK]]] (if: $AskAddress and $AskTicket is true)[[["I think I might be heading for that... private nightclub, you said? Or maybe I'll just get off this world once and for all. But I suppose we should discuss my debts instead."->Debt Q]]]

"Right, your debt." The servant shifts behind her desk, pulling back up the relevent files and figures. "So that everything is clear to you, ma'am, I can list the charges and fines that had been appended to your account? Then we can discuss zeroing them out... if you're done asking questions, of course." [["Wait, I do have a few more questions.->Front Q]] [["Sounds good to me, read them."->Debt Read]]

You offer her the ticket, but she holds up a hand in polite refusal. "Travel aboard the Way Up is strictly prohibited to slaves, ma'am. Related paraphernalia too. Possession of a ticket, even for a few moments, would be a grave offense on my part. I'd rather not chance a Truant Officer strolling in, if that is alright? You need only read me the confirmation number up top." You do, which she reads back, making sure her data entry was correct. It is. "That ticket is valid, and the assigned carriage is on time. Departure time of late tonight, looks like." She looks back to you. "Leaving Torei already? Shame." (set: $AskTicket to true) [["I've got more questions."->Front Q]]

"No." She replies, most unhelpfully. But sliding back over to her computer, she quickly makes an effort to improve upon that answer. "Can you give me that address one more time? (set: $AskAddress to true) It takes only a few moments for her to pull up the relevent information. "Ah! Here it is. Seems to be a... nightclub, of some sort? Deep in downtown Grand Aekora, though. We're located in the outskirts right now, if you can't remember that. Couple ways to get there. Train, carriage, and always the Lead." [[Good to know, I suppose. Can I ask something else?->Front Q]]

The girl nods enthusiastically. "Yeah, Torei has a bunch of Ministries. Not every Ringdom has them all, but Aekora does have most-- and that means the Ministry of Truants. Think of them like our police, but as I understand it, you offworlders don't have many laws for women, right?" She seems to be waiting for a response, but you're not sure you even have one. Laws for women? Eventually she just continues. "Well we do, ma'am. There are a *lot*. Way too many for me to go over. Usually I just advise freewomb guests like yourself to always keep your identification permit with you, and to be careful traveling after dark. They're very strict about curfew, and really, its best to just try and avoid the Officers altogether." Again she gestures towards your oufit. "(if: $Blue is true)[If you don't avoid them, that's why you've got cuffs on that suit.] (if: $Smoke is true)[If you don't avoid them, those thigh cuffs won't be the only ones you're stuck wearing.] (if: $Brand is true)[I wouldn't suggest running from them in regular circumstances, but with your heels? Just keep your eyes down, ma'am.] (if: $Sec is true)[That outfit you chose might be the best for blending in, actually. Torean, but clearly with some agency. Truant Officers might ignore you.] (if: $Slave is true)[Wearing that, you *will* be stopped by them. Slave laws are much more strict, and while you are a freewomb they won't know that until they check your card.]" [["Thanks for the advice."->Front Q]]

"Good question, ma'am! That is an important one to know, here on Torei. Technically there are two classes of women here on Torei, but I really think of them as being three. There are freewombs like yourself," she reaches up, tapping her collar. "And there are slaves, like myself. In between, that third class, are indentured servants. Usually technically freewombs, but serving contracts or working off debt. There are lots of ways to fall into debt on Torei, especially for offworlders who aren't careful. So watch out for that." Her eyes grow distant for a moment, her smile widening. "Many Toreans would argue a slave's collar is the easier life, here." (if: $Blue is true or $Slave is true)[[["I'm a Freewomb... but I do have a collar?"->Collar Q]]] [[That makes... a certain sort of sense, I suppose. But I have other questions."->Front Q]]

"That makes sense," the woman smiles. "You did have an order of Mem-Burn delivered to your room two days ago." *You did?* (set: $MemQ to true) [["You make that sound like a common thing."]] [["I did?! And you're sure it was me?->What Q]]

"Ah, well, I wouldn't exactly say that. I was merely on duty when the delivery slave arrived. Directed her to your room. I suppose anyone could have made the order." She shifts her attention to her computer, pulling up a few files before continuing. "You checked in alone about a week ago, prepaid up to today. If it helps, I'm here on duty more often then not. Saw you come and go a few times, but you never returned with anyone that I noticed. Most folk at least *try* a bit of the Torean experience when staying here too, but you didn't. Wouldn't think you the sort to go for Mem-Burn. Not until now." It isn't much, but your sense of self is at least a *bit* clearer. This may be a good time to ask any questions that come to mind, and there is the matter of your debt to address as well. [["Well, thank you I supposed. Can I ask some other questions?->Front Q]]

"Perhaps its not *common*," she allows, with a shrug of sloped shoulders. "But it's not all that rare. Rumor has it the active compounds came from the AIs, but its perfectly safe. Some folk like to use it to really make some time in a collar... intense. For others, it helps loosen them up. That last bit seems to have worked, right? (if: $Blue is true)[It got you into that catsuit, and you wear it so well!] (if: $Smoke is true)[It got you into that see-through catsuit, those are a Torean staple!] (if: $Brand is true)[It got you into that branded suit, didn't it?] (if: $Sec is true)[It got you to update your look to something more Torean, after all.] (if: $Slave is true)[Because I must say it again, I really never expected to see you in slave-rated gear. Its a rare day when a guest is more strictly bound then I am.]" [[...right. Well, you're sure it was ME that made the order?->What Q]]

(if: $Blue is true)["Ah," the servant responds, holding up a gloved finger. "That's different. You get to choose, even if yours has a timer right now. Slaves don't.] (if: $Slave is true)["Ah," the servant responds, holding up a gloved finger. The purple is so much brighter then your own black. "That's different. You eventually will be allowed out of that collar and suit... if you desire that. A proper slave would not get to make that choice themselves."] [["Got it. I have other questions?"->Front Q]]

"Understood, ma'am." The girl flicks a switch on her computer's console, a frame-like square on her desk flashing to life as numbers slide across it. (if: $Blue is true)[Your black heels snap against the floor as you step up to look.] (if: $Smoke is true)[Your black heels snap against the floor as you step up to look.] (if: $Brand is true)[Your ballet heels nearly send you tumbling over, but you manage to steady yourself on the desk, leaning over to look.] (if: $Sec is true)[Your red pumps snap against the floor as you step up to look.] (if: $Slave is true)[Your stilleto boots snap against the floor as you step up to look, peering out from the glass of your mask.] "You current amounted owed is: (print: $debt) credits." Raising a hand, she begins listing how you got there, raising a finger each time: (if: $debtRing is true)["An automated scan of your room revealed a broken d-ring on your bed. That wood is imported, so we must add a 35 credit charge."] (if: $debtHelp is true)["I'm certain you recall the pair of charges you accepted when I freed you from your self bondage? That was 50 credits total."] (if: $debtChangeEscape is true)["Your service button was triggered, but you did not answer. Perhaps you should have, the time you took to get here afterward made you late to checkout. That is a 50 credit charge."] (if: $debtShower is true)["The sonic shower in your room registered a lengthy use today. Presuming that was you, it made you late to checkout. That is a 50 credit charge."] (if: $debtTV is true)["The television within your room communicated a good bit of time turned on today. Unfortunately that extra time came after checkout period ended, and thus earned you a 20 credit fine."] (if: $debtFrontNude is true)["You walked nude into this front desk area, a designated public area by Aekoran decency laws. That was a 30 credit fine."] (if: $debtBrand is true)["Your choice of submission to an Advert-Wear catsuit earned you 50 credits, good choice. Sorry again about those boots."] (if: $debtSec is true)["Your selection of the Sextretarial Delight outfit from our Wardrobe device incurred a 50 credit charge."] (if: $debtSlave is true)["Your selection of a fully Slave-Rated Enclosure suit incurred a significant 150 credit fee." Meanwhile you try not to shift your hips, and thus your plugs too much.] (if: $debtResist is true)["Minor damage was reported from our Wardrobe Device during your recent dressing. That is a 20 credit fine."] (if: $debtResist2 is true)["The Wardrobe Device communicated use of its subjugation prod during your installation into that Slave-Rated suit. Aekoran law requires a 20 credit fine in such an instance."] (if: $debtCard is true)["And... finally, there was the 20 credit fine for your keycard replacement, as we discussed earlier."] Reaching up to run a hand through her hair requires her to shift her other arm as well, the chain between her wrists an impediment she barely seems to notice. "So-- (print: $debt) credits. That's (if: $debt is <= 50)[not too bad, actually."](if: $debt is > 50 and <= 100)[starting to get up there, ma'am."](if: $debt is > 100 and <= 200)[rather high, I'm afraid."](if: $debt is > 200)[a very serious outstanding balance."] [["You mentioned some sort of debt relief, though?"->Debt Options]]

The woman nods, a gloved hand rising to the band secured around her neck. It's almost unnecessary, given the chain also linking her wrists. "Yes ma'am. Since I sold myself once I hit majority. It can be hard for offworlders to understand, but it is all I looked forward to. There is security in a collar you can't get elsewhere on Torei, as a woman." She leans across the table, once again eyeing your full enclosure suit. "But I came to *like* it, too. Losing control... it's something else..." Her smile is wide. "Isn't it.?" You take a deep breath, trying hard to ignore your plugs. [["Let's just... talk about checking out."->Front II]]

"Yes!" The girl replies. "My Master, the proprietor of this establishment, understands that given the frequency of our guests not born to Torei, registering a proper debt contract with the Ministry of Truants to collect on your account would be bothersome for all parties involved. Instead, I am authorized to write off portions of your outstanding debt if you accept certain... temporary strictures. We hope such an arrangement provides a learning experience for Freewombs such as yourself." [["What kind of... learning experiences are we talking about, here?"->Debt Options 2]]

"I would be happy you," she smiles. "But talking credits can be a most tiring affair. I would recommend we explore any other topics that interest you first, ma'am. Did you by chance have an idea of where you intend to travel next?" [["Actually, I have some other questions for you. I can't recall anything from the last week..."->Front Q Start]]

"Well, let's work our way up the list and see what will be required of you, hm? The way this works is that the more you owe, the further up we have to go. Let's see..." Her finger runs up the display surface in front of her, gliding along until she halts suddenly. "At your level of debt you've certainly earned a hobble chain for the day. Are you familiar with such a device?" You shake your head, earning a smile from the girl. (set: $Level to 1) (set: $debt to it - 75) "(if: $Blue is true)[We will utilize the ankle cuffs you already have to run a short chain between them, above a foot in length. As you can imagine, that will restrict your gait rather severely.] (if: $Smoke is true)[We will provide ankle cuffs in the same black laminate as those on your thighs, ma'am. Then we will have to run a short chain between them, above a foot in length. As you can imagine, that will restrict your gait rather severely.] (if: $Brand is true)[We will provide ankle cuffs in a red laminate to match your Advert-suit, ma'am. Then we will have to run a short chain between them, above a foot in length. As you can imagine, that will restrict your gait rather severely. Keeping your balance with your ballet boots will be troublesome, I imagine.] (if: $Sec is true)[We will provide a professional set of ankle cuffs in the same red laminate as your skirt, ma'am. Then we will have to run a short chain between them, above a foot in length. As you can imagine, that will restrict your gait rather severely.] (if: $Slave is true)[We will provide slave-rated ankle cuffs in the same silvered laminate as your posture collar, ma'am. Then we will have to run a short chain between them, above a foot in length. As you can imagine, that will restrict your gait rather severely.]" (if: $debt is <= 0)["Good news is their locks will release in time, and that's all we will require of you! Great job on not incurring too much of a debt during your stay here, ma'am.](if: $debt is >= 1)[That will bring your debt down to (print: $debt), but obviously that is not zero. We will need to discuss level two."] (if: $debt is <= 0)[[["That's... great to hear, I suppose.->Debt End]]](if: $debt is >= 1)[[["Level two?"->Level Two]]]

"Right..." the servant muses, collecting herself. She takes several moments to type into her computer, clearly cross-checking with the debt relief list you had just explored with her. A minute's silence follows, (if: $Blue is true)[your gloved hands collecting before you, just below the bondage belt at your waist.] (if: $Smoke is true)[your gloved hands collecting before you, just below the bondage belt at your waist.] (if: $Brand is true)[and your quite happy to have the desk upon which to lean for support.] (if: $Sec is true)[and you use the time to adjust your peplum skirt, the laminate so soft and smooth in your bare hands.] (if: $Slave is true)[and you spend it trying to ignore your own hand, and its lingering desire to return to the space between your legs. Even the smallest movement shifted those damned inserts.] With a flourished finger pressing down on her computer's INPUT button, the girl looks back up to you. "Alright! The Wardrobe Device is loaded with the debt relief measures we discussed. Simply head back and allow it to scan you again. (if: $Level is 4)[It will perform everything except your punishment, return here for that.]. Afterward I can set you up with transport for wherever you are heading next. Got that?" [["Understood."->Debt End II]] [["I can't believe I have to do this."->Debt End IIB]]

The servant scrolls down on her display screen. "The second level of debt forgiveness requires the installation of a time-released armbinder. I imagine, given the Mem-Burn, an explanation will be required?" She doesn't wait for a response, seemingly eager to provide. (set: $Level to it + 1) (set: $debt to it - 50) "(if: $Blue is true)[Imagine putting your arms behind your back elbow to elbow, palm to palm. We will then place a black laminate sleeve over them, ensuring your arms remain together, and bound securely behind your back. I must warn you, extended wear is not comfortable.] (if: $Smoke is true)[Imagine putting your arms behind your back elbow to elbow, palm to palm. We will then place a black laminate sleeve over them, ensuring your arms remain together, and bound securely behind your back. I must warn you, extended wear is not comfortable.] (if: $Brand is true)[Imagine putting your arms behind your back elbow to elbow, palm to palm. We will then place a laminate sleeve over them, ensuring your arms remain together, and bound securely behind your back. Given your Advert submission, the design upon the arms of your suit will be reproduced at a slightly larger size upon the binder, given its size. I must warn you, extended wear is not comfortable.] (if: $Sec is true)[Imagine putting your arms behind your back elbow to elbow, palm to palm. We will then place a red laminate sleeve over them, ensuring your arms remain together, and bound securely behind your back. I must warn you, extended wear is not comfortable.] (if: $Slave is true)[Imagine putting your arms behind your back elbow to elbow, palm to palm. We will then place a black laminate slave-rated sleeve over them, ensuring your arms remain together, and bound securely behind your back. I must warn you, the slave-rated design is intentionally designed to be uncomfortable.]" Her eyes flash excitedly. "As should be obvious, your arms will be quite useless in such a situation. (if: $debt is <= 0)["But the good news is that's all we will require of you! You won't have an easy experience, but it certainly appears managable, ma'am..](if: $debt is >= 1)[That will bring your debt down to (print: $debt), but obviously we are still in search of the requisite zero. That brings us to level three."] (if: $debt is <= 0)[[["That's... great to hear, I suppose.->Debt End]]](if: $debt is >= 1)[[["What are you going to do to me now?"->Level Three]]]

(set: $Level to it + 1) (set: $debt to it - 50) "The last of our *standard* debt relief levels is only for extensive debtors... such as yourself, ma'am." Its clear she's trying to be respectful, but the ground she must cover makes that difficult. "Here on Torei, you must understand that debt is something taken very seriously. Every day freewombs such as yourself find their debts outweighing their earning potential. Bankruptcy inevitably follows, and in such circumstances enslavement is the usual result. We are prepared to write off your debts regardless, but a more... permanent lesson will be required. I'm now allowed to say more, not until after installation." Her eyes return to her console, lips pursed in consideration. That write-off will take you to (print: $debt). "(if: $debt is <= 0)[The good news is that will zero out your account, and will be everything required of you.](if: $debt is >= 1)[And yet you still have an outstanding balance. It seems we will need to discuss level four.]" (if: $debt is <= 0)[[["Let's... let's just get on with it, I suppose."->Debt End]]](if: $debt is >= 1)[[["Level... four?"->Level Four]]]

The servant nods. "Level four is quite simple. Given your debt level, you will need to be punished, and this punishment will be recorded so that the hotel can recoup some of our losses on your behalf. A standard Aekoran corrective action is the application of a riding crop to a debtor, exact placement being at our discretion. Usually it's the rear. 5 credits will be deducted per strike. At your remaining balance of... (print: $debt), you're looking at (print: $debt / 5) strikes." (set: $Level to it + 1) There she pauses, her hands on the desk between you as she leans forward. "Can I ask-- were you *trying* to rack up the charges, when you *knew* you didn't have the credits?" [["No."->Level Four No]] [["..."->Level Four Yes]] [["...yes."->Level Four Yes]]

The girl sits back in seat, one hand absently rubbing her own pierced nipple. "Whatever you say, ma'am..." [["Didn't... we need to talk about how I'm going to be released from my debts?"->Debt End]]

"I *knew* it," she beams. "Torei may just be your sort of place after all, ma'am." [["...thanks, but what about all my debts?"->Debt End]]

The hallway is much as you left it, the shades of purple, the carpeted floor below. This time you know exactly where you're going, and it takes only a moment to find yourself before the clean door. Its still unoccupied, allowing you to open the portal and step back inside. Again the display screen greets you, another flash of light announcing it had taken an ocular scan. There the experience changes, the myraid choices from before replaced by a much more straightforward option: *You are about to submit to the (if: $Level is 1)[Level One] (if: $Level is 2)[Level Two] (if: $Level is 3)[Level Three] (if: $Level is 4)[Level Four] Debt Forgiveness program, as outlined in your initial lease agreement and discussed with this Hotel's owner, or his designated slave(s). All adjustments made to you during this submission must be maintained for a period of at least twelve hours.* **DO YOU COMPLY?** [[Yes.->Debt End III]]

As you march sullenly back towards the glass door that led to the hotel's rooms, and the Wardrobe Device at the far back, the servant shakes her head. "Believe me, ma'am-- this is much better then getting a Truant Officer involved." [["Sure it is..."->Debt End II]]

The various arms of the Wardrobe emerge en masse, repeating the procedure you have already undergone once. Wrists, ankles, and throat are seized, although the presence of your clothing does make it a somewhat gentler experience this time around. Moving downward in a wave, the Wardrobe begins working on your promised hobble chain. Instead of working solely in direct steel, it instead uses only a few strategically placed filiments to reinforce the hard-sealed laminate it uses otherwise. (if: $Blue is true)[The presence of your ankle cuffs are integrated into the design, the metal loops there being used to anchor the chain itself that is finished with a chromed, silvery finish.] (if: $Smoke is true)[Lacking ankle cuffs, fresh ones are first printed for you, the black laminate matching those you already wore at your thighs. The chain between them is finished with a chromed, silvery look sure to catch the light as readily as your see-through catsuit.] (if: $Brand is true)[Lacking ankle cuffs, fresh ones are first printed for you, the red laminate used matching the design of the logos elsewhere on your body. The chain between them is finished with a white coloration, again coordinating with your adverts.] (if: $Sec is true)[Lacking ankle cuffs, fresh ones are first printed for you, the red laminate worked with slightly flared metal designs for the metal components, coordinating with the rest of your professional attire. The chain between them is finished with a chromed, silvery look sure to catch the light.] (if: $Slave is true)[Lacking ankle cuffs, fresh ones are first printed for you, in thick black laminate with heavy steel components to which the chain connects. Undoubtedly following slave-ratings, the chain itself is quite heavy, and rendered fully in black.] <img src="https://i.imgur.com/yh2Q6BK.png"> (if: $Level is <= 1)[[[Well that was... painless.->Debt Final]]] (if: $Level is > 1)[[[Level Two begins...->Debt End IV]]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/9MFJwF5.png" width="30%" height="30%"> You emerge from the Wardrobe Device for a second time, once again transformed... ...and this time, not alone. Another guest of the hotel had apparently just exited her room, a woman perhaps near your age (although Torei's medical technologies made it so difficult to tell.) Her outfit is immaculate, all black laminate with poofed shoulders and tall thigh-high stilletos. She wears the material, including smartly fastened corset, with an ease you cannot imagine. Reflective, mirror-like glasses hide her gaze, but you cannot help but imagine her staring. Ruby red lips curl into a smile as she pauses, closing her room's door but otherwise lingering. After a long moment she gestures for you to pass, the gloved movement as smooth and cool as her half-veiled expression. [[Just pass her... calmly->Hallway Pass]]

No opportunity for rest is given as the Wardrobe whirls, arms cycling upward as those gripped to your wrists suddenly jerk your arms back. It isn't a gentle experience. Given the larger print job, three of the device's appendages begin circling your arms, coating them in the laminate that is quickly flash-set into a tight layer. Reinforcements are built into the area around your hands to prevent an escape, and so that a large ring can be emplaced-- which, once cooled an armature seizes, demonstrating just how easily you can now be controlled that way. The final component is the portion that circles around your shoulders and upper chest, anchoring the binder and preventing it from being slipped off easily. Already your shoulders whine with hints of pain, the position unpracticed. <img src="https://i.imgur.com/gh59YMk.png" width="30%" height="30%"> (if: $Level is <= 2)[[[And I have to wear this for hours...->Debt Final]]] (if: $Level is > 2)[[[LEVEL THREE->Debt End V]]]

You're hobbled and bound, yet still the Wardrobe moves. Perhaps you had not intended to rack up a debt as high as it had gotten. How could you truly have known? But Torei does not ask for apologies. It demanded correction, this time of a more pemanent nature then mere bindings-- just as promised. The device holding onto your armbinder's ring pulls suddenly downward just as your legs are yanked forward. You're suspended in the air now, back arched, breasts pressing against the laminate cups of your oufit as they're thrust out. (if: $lave is true or $Brand is true)[Your corset makes the position painful in the extreme.] It's then that a new armature appears, this one new, at least to your eyes. Instead of a gripping limb, or a painter-like nozzle, this has something much more sinister: a lancing needle. Long, silvery... and move mechanically down, towards your breasts. The protection offered by your outfit is momentarily vacated, solvants being applied that melt the material readily in a steam that fans suck away greedily. With unnerving precision, the needle is positioned. There is no fanfare, no warning-- it merely shifts suddenly, one moment waiting beside your nipple, the next pierced straight through it. [[You scream.->Debt End VI]]

The Wardrobe device doesn't much care for your reaction. It does provide a quite fast acting healing agent, undoubtedly a Torean marvel of bioengineering that would have fascinated the Prospector that is your job title, but that seems less a kindness and more simple utilitarianism. Once healed, a silvery barbell is inserted, your violation now marked by the small silver balls now framing the highlight of your chest. You hang limply as the procedure is repeated on your other nipple. Afterward the nozzles return, reapplying the laminate of your suit. Its as if they had never torn it apart, but the foreign sensations emanating from your chest are a constant reminder... <img src="https://i.imgur.com/5744pPZ.png" width="30%" height="30%"> [[How could they...->Debt Final]] [[It almost... feels good.->Debt Final]]

You try to act as confident as the woman appears, the effect so very much like being a model on a runway, even if its for a crowd of one. Your hobble chain loudly snaps with your first step as it pulls tight, the restricted gait unnatural. You can manage something more then a shuffle, but its hardly dignified. (if: $Level is 2 or 3 or 4)[For the first time you realize just how helpless the armbinder has rendered you as well, (if: $Blue or $Slave is true)[the device conspiring with your corset to thrust out your chest and rear.](else:)[the effect of the device on your arms thrusting out your chest and rear.] Were the woman's midnight clad hands to grab you, its clear you could offer little resistance.] Yet she doesn't move, merely observing as you make your way past. (if: $Level is 3 or 4)[At the closest point between you, however, she does tip her glasses down, revealing brilliant grey eyes that focus, with a bemused smirk, on your nipple piercings visible through tight laminate.] (if: $Slave is true)[It's an interest she shares with your collar, perhaps noting the slave-graded measurements of your suit and restraints. No owner is marked upon the thick posture collar, she could certainly see that.] Once past, you try to put her out of your thoughts, focusing once more on the passage from hallway to front office. There the servant waits, expectantly. "Wonderful!" (if: $Level is 1 or 2)[[["If you say so."->Transport]]] (if: $Level is 3 or 4)[[[You didn't tell me about the piercings!->Trans Pierce]]]

"The only thing we have left to talk about is your departure, then," she notes. The sound of heeled shoes on the tiled floor draws your attention back towards the hallway, however, where the woman glimpsed earlier emerges. One hand grips the small purse slung over her shoulder, while the other crosses beneath her chest, supporting a pensive posture as she boldly passes through the Front Office and out the front door. The servant had paused to watch as well, but her attention returns to you as soon as the front door closes again. "We were talking about... your departure, correct?" [["Yes."->Transport II]]

"Part of the lesson," the girl points out, still behind her desk. "Is the surprise! Believe me, they're really not *that* bad." Her own top, violet see-through laminate, does feature the steel adornments to her nipples quite prominently. She certainly had to be an expert on the matter, but her enthusiasm for... Torean culture perhaps far exceeded your own. (if: $Level is 3)[[["I'd just really like to get out of here."->Transport]]] (if: $Level is 4)[The servant emerges from behind her desk, a long rod-like device of heavy laminate in her hands. "There is still the matter of your punishment, ma'am." [[Oh no.->Crop]]]

You shy away, its only natural. "Oh, don't be like that," the employee tsk-tsks. "You've come so far, and you've *earned this.* Besides, you're technically under slave codes until your debt is cleared. Any resistance, and I will append additional fees. That means more applications of the crop, and you already have (print: $debt / 5) to undergo. Alright?" She doesn't wait for a response, but instead rises, leaving her desk. Its only then that you notice the chain descending from the ceiling, in the corner of the office. Of course she makes for, waiting for you to join her before grabbing the ring on your armbinder tightly. You nearly lose your balance as she lifts the ring, forcing your arms up, and your head down. It appears to be a maneuver she's quite well versed in, as she quickly has the ring snapped to the chain. You're now bent over, arms back and pulled up. The heels on your boots ensure your rear is neatly displayed, pert rear and rounded thighs gleaming in the light. "I am going to apply the crop," she explains. "Once for every 5 credits you still owe, as we discussed. It will be your job to count the strikes, aloud. I would hate to give you too many... or too few. Understood?" You shift slightly, unable to straighten back up. (set: $Strike to 0) [["Y-Yes..."->Strike Counter]]

"Well then," she smiles. "Did you have a destination in mind?" Despite everything you had gone through since leaving your room, the mystery of your waking still stood to be answered. Had your memory been forcibly wiped, or had you subjected yourself to such an experience? What could drive you to do such a thing? Your evidence is as scant as the resources you have available: three measely cards. The elevator ticket for the Way Up expired tomorrow night, but it promised your one clear chance to free you of Torei forever-- an escape from the humiliation, the bondage, the laminate you had found yourself so readily falling into. But that would mean abandoning the enigma that was the black card and its promise of a potential deal, your original reason for coming to the planet in the first place. The wealth that would result from a successful prospecting mission to this planet would remain untapped. You could try for both, the black card's rendezvous is planned for tonight, giving you perhaps a day to make your way to the elevator. But as your third and final card, the one the served as your ID, reminded with the bold red letters stamped across the top... here you were a FREEWOMB first, and there could be so many pitfalls waiting on Torei's streets. [["I have a seat waiting for me on the space elevator, that's where I'm heading."->Transport III]] [["356 Cross Street, Grand Aekora. I still have business to do here."->Transport III]] [["I'm heading for the space elevator, but there is a stop along the way. 356 Cross Street.->Transport III]]

The slave does not hesitate, her riding crop striking out with percussive force. The heavy duty laminate has some give, but as the rectangular tip licks the glossy material covering your lower rear, pain still blossoms-- sharp and heady. (set: $Strike to it +1) (set: $debt to it - 5) "(print: $debt / 5) left," the servant counts down, as you count up. (if: $Strike is 2)[Your hips thrust forward of their own accord, trying to escape the crop's strike. It serves only to (if: $Blue is true)[move you forward a step, blue laminate providing little defense.] (if: $Smoke is true)[move you forward a step, smokey clear laminate providing little defense.] (if: $Brand is true)[cause you to stumble forward a step on your ballet heels, laminate providing little defense.] (if: $Sec is true)[move you forward a step, the thin material of your secretarial skirt providing little defense.] (if: $Slave is true)[move your inserts, twin cocks pressing eagerly into your offered holes.]] (if: $Strike is 4)[You moan slightly as the crop slaps home again, the competing sounds perfectly timed to catch the sudden appearance of a third figure in the room-- the woman you passed in the hallway. Once again, a bemused smile finds her bright lips as she strides confidently over, silencing the attending slave with one upheld finger. She doesn't demand much, only the opportunity to slide her laminate fingers up between your legs, rubbing briefly at the zipper covering your cunt. Your knees shake of their own accord in response, a second-- more hungry-- moan escaping. And then she is gone, crossing the rest of the room to exit out the front door as the servant beside you demands a fresh strike count. Even then the sensation of the woman's touch lingers...(set: $Fondled to true)] (if: $Strike is 6)[The slave varies her placement every few hits, sometimes high on your rear, sometimes further down near the tops of your thighs. Wherever she hits, it hurts.] (if: $Strike is 11)[Tears form in the corners of your eyes as the strikes persist, your body tensing up as soon as you give the count, now.] (if: $Strike is 13)[The servant attending you pauses, tapping the crop lightly between your legs, along the interior of a thigh. "Ass up," she commands. "You must stand ready to receive, not hang in your bondage." You moan, but lift your rear as demanded. (if: $Slave is true)[For some reason, being forced to comply with your own torture only furthers the aching of your plugged cunt.]] (if: $Strike is 21)[The experience is no longer sharp stings, but more general sensations of shooting pain as your punishment continues. You're panting now(if: $Brand is true)[, your corset tight and uncomfortable](if: $Slave is true)[, your corset tight and uncomfortable, your mask leaving you breathless. Between your legs, however, *pleasure* still builds].] (if: $Strike is 30)[Again the servant pauses, this time to catch her breath as your body aches. (if: $Slave is true)[Perhaps its good she does, for its at that moment you climax, your mind momentarily blanking as you moan wantonly, a wet slut cumming as she's tortured. Your legs buckle, weight momentarily held by your armbinder alone until you find your feet again. Behind you, the servant pauses, almost... as if she had expected such an outcome? What is this suit doing to you?]] (if: $Strike > 31)[It keeps going, and going...] (if: $debt is > 0)[[["Please stop, I can't!->Strike Refuse]]] (if: $debt is > 0)[[["(print: $Strike)!"->Strike Counter]]] (if: $debt is <= 0)[[["That's... all of it, right?"->Strike End]]]

The girl raises her own chained wrists, then looks to those clasped firmly upon your own body. "Oh yes," she asserts, readily. "Certain sorts are required of certain folk, of course, but most anyone can wear some. Freewombs such as yourself commonly do." She tips her head back and forth, bangs swaying pendulum like. "Honestly I didn't expect a woman such as yourself to wear some, but given your financial situation... you did notice the locks on them, right? They will come off in a few hours. Aekoran law requires that for any freebies at a Wardrobe. Ministry of Truants asserts it makes dealing with loiters and vagabonds easier. They're usually the only sort to wear the free stuff." It takes her a long moment to gasp. "Not that I was suggesting anything, ma'am!" [["None taken, let's just get back to my other questions.->Front Q]]

The servant shakes her head. "Afraid not, ma'am. Did you read all the fine print when you made that selection?" Her smile returns. "Probably not. No one does. I've been asked about it enough to know that it's in there, though. Timed locks are included, so you don't go back on your advertising contract. They're on your corset too, if you haven't noticed. Not sure why they went with ballets, though. Usually its offworlders who go for the advert-suits. And ballets aren't friendly to those sorts at all. Ooo! Maybe that's part of the advertisement! You know, seeing an offworlder struggling in ballets, branded with a big slaver's ad? Makes the better investment clear!" She shrugs and you shift from one foot to the other, trying to remain *en pointe* before her. "Toreans don't go for it because we know it's much more lucrative to sell *yourself* instead of just your clothes for a few hours, ma'am. That tip is free." [["Right... let's just get back to my other questions.->Front Q]]

"Can I take a closer look?" She asks in response, gesturing you forward. After a moment's hesitation you approach, your posture collar ensuring you can't do much as her gloved hands glide along the edges of your mask. It takes her only a second or two for a conclusion to be reached. "Sorry, ma'am. Afraid not. I guess the latest update removed the regulation valve on the side. You're in there until the timed locks give out, that's always been standard. But looks like the recent law revisions decided to make it harder on you." You step back, heels clicking upon the marble floor as she continues. It's hard to suppress the moan that comes from your shifting inserts. "Only thing I can tell you is that design is by far the most common, here in Aekora. Mostly as a standardized uniform for slaves, but... still. They put a lot of research into them. That breath regulator will keep you on the edge, but it won't suffocate you." [["...great. Let's just get back to my other questions.->Front Q]]

You pull against your restraints, unable to take the punishment. (set: $debt to it + 5) Behind you, arm readied for another blow, the servant shakes her head. "I warned you about this. You do not have a choice in this, and resisting? That's another fine, another lash. Present your ass, and give me a fresh count." You gasp, but do. [["I'm... I'm sorry! "(print: $Strike)!"->Strike Counter]]

Even with your count completed, your body tenses at the sound of the slave behind you stepping forward. Instead of yet another sharp snap against your rear, however, its her hand that runs gently down your tortured rear. Laminate to laminate, her touch glides along, a ship sailing along smooth waters. "Yes," she finally murmurs. "We're done." Reaching up, she unhooks your armbinder ring from the ceiling chain, allowing you to straighten back up. Even the barest movement brings echoes of the punishment back towards your nerve endings. Its even worse as you follow her back over to the front desk, which she takes a seat at. Perhaps you've learned a lesson? "The video we have recorded of your corrective action will be most valuable to the hotel, and we hope you remember this as a lesson going forward. Now, we were going to discuss your departure?" The girl looks up to you, riding crop resting at the side. [["Y-Yes."->Transport II]]

(set: $debt to 0) The servant nods, her laminate clothing gleaming as her shackled hands collect together on her desk. "Well, in that case, you're going to need to make your way into downtown Grand Aekora. We're on the outskirts now, but once you get downtown you can get *anywhere*. It's quite a walk, especially hobbled, (if: $Level is > 1)[with an armbinder,](if: $Blue is true)[in those black heels] (if: $Smoke is true)[in those black heels] (if: $Brand is true)[in those ballet heels] (if: $Sec is true)[in those cute pumps you have] (if: $Slave is true)[in standard slave regalia]." She had been working on your checkout reciept, which she asks if you need printed. You decline as she continues. "Luckly, we're just down the street from the local transit hub! The Lead system is free in a few hours, but I'm sure you would like to avoid that." She doesn't provide a reason why you would, but instead circles the front desk to walk you to the front door. "There are also carriages, and the train line of course. Those take credits..." she looks to your restraints, and winks. "But let's not get into that again. You're a resourceful girl, I'm certain you can figure it out!" The door to the world beyond looms, a solid block of light, a portal you must now pass. Your attendant peforms an elaborate curtsy as you pass. "Thank you for staying at Diarch's Choice hotel! I hope you enjoyed... I certainly did." [[Step out onto the Torean streets.->PART TWO]]

Stepping out, you (if: $Level is 1)[lift a hand to shield your eyes](if: $Level is >= 2)[wish your arms weren't bound so that you could shield your eyes] from the harsh glare of system's star that looms above. You recall that Torei is a lonely world, without neighboring planets, far from the standard trade lanes. Perhaps that's why you expected something more alien then what actually confronts you. (set: $showcredits to true) The street is plain concrete, the foliage growing in the spaces of green perhaps a bit stunted, but look regular enough. Even the buildings are not too bizarre. You appear to be in a relatively built up city, but looking North reveals much larger towers reaching towards the sky. That had to be downtown Grand Aekora-- and thus the direction you would need to travel, in pursuit of the promised transport center. But there is the matter of the *people* who share the street with you. The wide road is bizarrely empty, but the sidewalks abound with life. Nearly all are women, a factoid breaking through your amnesia to remind you that among the Torean-born, women greatly outnumbered men. And some of them are looking your way. You do not have the choice to hide, indeed your laminate only seems to announce you *wanted* the attention. Everything is on display. (if: $Blue is true)[Every curve of your blue-clad body shines as you begin to walk, breasts thrust out and cupped provocatively by the smooth material(if: $Level is 3 or 4)[--through which your pierced nipples are evident]. It flares with your hips, running down the smooth expanse from your naval to the zipper between your legs. Your black boots snap out a steady rhythm as well, joined by the metal bits on you different cuffs and collar.] (if: $Smoke is true)[Every curve of your smoke-clad body shines as you begin to walk, breasts thrust out, cupped and supported by the harness below as if to highlight the provocativelyby smooth see-through material(if: $Level is 3 or 4)[--through which your pierced nipples are evident]. It flares with your hips, exposing the skin beneath as it runs down the smooth expanse from your naval to the black strip of a zipper between your legs. Your similarly colored boots snap out a steady rhythm as well.] (if: $Brand is true)[Every curve of your catsuit-clad body shines as you begin to walk, breasts thrust out and cupped provocatively by the smooth material(if: $Level is 3 or 4)[--through which your pierced nipples are evident]. Your corset further emphasizes your femininity, enforcing the hourglass like curve as your suit flares with your hips, your entire body a gleaming advertisement for the enjoyment of others. Walking remains an effort in your boots, but you're learning to live on your toes.] (if: $Sec is true)[Every curve of your uniformed body shines as you begin to walk, breasts thrust out and cupped provocatively by the smooth white material(if: $Level is 3 or 4)[--through which your pierced nipples are evident]. It flares with your hips, your tight skirt flexing back and forth with each step, its hug on your thighs pronounced. Behind, your tiny peplum skirt lifts as a gust of wind blows by.] (if: $Slave is true)[Every curve of your black-clad body shines as you begin to walk, breasts thrust out and cupped provocatively by the smooth material(if: $Level is 3 or 4)[--through which your pierced nipples are evident]. Your corset further emphasizes your femininity, enforcing the hourglass like curve as your suit flares with your hips, running down the smooth expanse from your naval to the zipper between your legs. There the hidden inserts move with every step, teasing as much as frustrating, and proving a silent companion to the more eviden snap of your boots upon the pavement.] At least you're not alone in the experience. Laminate clothing appears universal, everyone you pass exclusively wearing the material-- although what you infer from each outfit varies greatly. The presence of a collar provides a rough dividing line between those who keep their eyes down, and those who stride forward confidently. Catsuits and stilleto heels are in abundance, and even a few like yourself are visibly bound. (if: $Blue is true)[Still, the metallic coloration of your suit does serve to set you apart from most. The way the light catches it induces a sparkling effect, one offset by the harsh black of your other bindings. You get the sense from those who look to you that, at the very least, you're fitting in.] (if: $Smoke is true)[Still, the semi-transparency of your suit does serve to draw attention. Eyes linger on your chest, and you see at least one woman turn to watch you after having passed. You get the sense from such onlookers that you're not only fitting in, but standing out a bit.] (if: $Brand is true)[Still, the words and logos placed upon your suit does serve to draw attention. You're a walking billboard after all, glossy and obvious in your ballet heels. One pair of women who pass you by can be heard whispering about you having sold your dignity for so little though, to which you can only bite your bottom lip, momentarily obscuring the tiny logo so carefully imprinted there.] (if: $Sec is true)[Variations on your own outfit seem common, and you have to imagine similar attire is a common experience for any woman on Torei who worked in an office or something customer-facing. Sensible but glossy, your body on display yet maintaining a professional sense.] (if: $Slave is true)[Other outfits may have drawn attention, but your heavy slave-rated uniform is all but ignored. Passing women even seem to look away, with one growing visibly angry when you try to meet her gaze from behind your glass faceplate. Like many of those collared, you soon are keeping your eyes on the ground.](if: $Level is >=2)[Wearing your armbinder does again remind you of just how defenseless you are, though. Perfectly helpless.] [[The Transport Hub looms ahead, atop a massive raised platform overlooking the city.->Transport Hub Intro]]

A train sits idly on a large platform, raised above the street that ends before it, branching away in either direction. Reaching it requires walking up a ramp, one you notice is far less steep then those generally seen in the galaxy beyond Torei-- were they assuming customers would be in heels? (set: $FreeLead to false)(set: $Strike to 0)(set: $TruantFound to false)(set: $TrainPass to false)(set: $IsSlave to false)(set: $debtShower to false)(set: $IsSlave to false)(set: $IsabellaCheck to false)(set: $NunCheck to false)(set: $OffworlderCheck to false)(set: $Donate to false)(set: $DonateTrans to false)(set: $debtSec to false)(set: $debtSlave to false)(set: $debtBrand to false)(set: $NunFinePaid to false)(set: $NunHave to false)(set: $TruantQuest to false)(set: $NunPaidSelf to false)(set: $NunEnd1 to false)(set: $NunEnd2 to false)(set: $DonateIsabella to false)(set: $DonateTruant to false)(set: $DonateEuphoria to false)(set: $DonateDahlia to false)(set: $DonateEnd to false)(set: $TruantQuest to false)(set: $TruantQuestEnd to false)(set: $TruantQAccept to false)(set: $TruantOffer to false)(set: $ElizabethLoc to false)(set: $TruantQuestPamph to false)(set: $TruantQuestCarr to false)(set: $Quinn to false)(set: $QuinnQ1 to false)(set: $QuinnQ2 to false)(set: $TruantQFound to false)(set: $TruantQLie to false)(set: $TruantQLieNo to false)(set: $Daemon to false)(set: $Pierced to false)(set: $TruantStat to 0) Either way, cresting the top reveals a crowd of some size divided into three seperate lines. Each are helpfully labeled and even color-coordinated by lines painted onto the platform, noting where one could wait for a service, or where boarding was occurring. Less then a dozen, two of them men in tight laminate, are seated on benches outside a station marked *Carriages*. A larger group stand in line or are seated near the area marked for *Train Boarding*. The final, and by far the largest contingent, all stand in line for something labeled only as *The Lead.* Checking out all three options at least seems a good idea. (set: $TransportCheck to 0) [[Let's start with the Carriage.->Carriage Hub]] [[Trains must be faster, let's start there.->Train Hub]] [[The Lead? It seems the most popular, let's start there.->Lead Hub]]

There isn't a line for the carriage booth at all, the mere handful of waiting passengers waiting nearby. One of the men who you glimpsed earlier has a girl in a secretarial looking outfit (if: $Sec is true)[much like your own] on his knee, having leaned in to whisper in her ear. Her lips are painted a bright red currently formed into an inviting 'O', as she clearly tries not to moan. It appears his hand is up her skirt. (if: $Sec is true or $Blue is true or $Smoke is true)[Approaching the carriage booth itself, you find a woman in a tight, bright blue servant's uniform. It bears the livery of *Grand Aekoran Transport*. She smiles when you ask how much it would cost for a ticket. 600 credits is the response, a tidy sum given you have exactly zero at the moment.] (if: $Brand is true)[Approaching the carriage booth itself, you find a woman in a tight, bright blue servant's uniform. It bears the livery of *Grand Aekoran Transport*. Her smile fades a bit at your approach, her eyes running across your branded outfit. When asked how much a ticket costs, she informs you it would be 600 credits-- and then goes further, suggesting a cheaper option if you cannot manage your own finances.] (if: $Slave is true)[Approaching the carriage booth itself, you find a woman in a tight, bright blue servant's uniform. It bears the livery of *Grand Aekoran Transport*. Her smile ends as soon as she notices your approach. "We do not take slaves," she declares promptly. Showing her your Freewomb marked ID achieves little. "Our exclusive services are not offered to anyone in full slave-rated uniform. Please step back, or I *will* call a Truancy Officer."] (set: $TransportCheck to it + 1) [[You step away, to consider your other options->Transport Hub Intro II]]

The lines for the train aren't very long, but you don't even need to join them for information-- several large kiosks are setup near the entrance, their bright digital displays beckoning anyone to approach and learn more. You take one of the machines up on its offer. (set: $TransportCheck to it + 1) (if: $Blue is true or $Smoke is true or $Sec is true or $Brand is true)[Greeting you in the name of *Trans Torean Rail*, an animated version of a young red-haired woman guides you through the various services. Apparently the rails are a common means of transport so near the Way Up, and Trans Torean services nearly a dozen different neighboring Ringdoms. Tickets to Grand Aekora, your destination, cost 400 credits. A secondary notice is given, however, that Freewombs such as yourself must be accompanied by an escort that's either male, or holds a valid Freewomb Rail Pass. You get the sense such passes are rare as the animated woman bids you a good day, but not before pointing to her collar to remind you that any further questions can be directed to a Trans Torean slave.] (if: $Slave is true)[The bright, cheery greeting display from *Trans Torean Rail* ends abruptly once you step up. In its stead, a very basic warning screen flashes before you: *Standardized Slave-Rated Uniform detected. Ticket sales and further assistance are not available. Rail travel is strictly prohibited for all slaves. Use of this kiosk is strictly prohibited for all slaves. Your account has charged a fee of 10 credits as punishment, per Aekoran Slave Codes (section 395, paragraph 8). Step away now, or further corrective measures will be authorized.* (set: $debt to it - 10)] [[Well, shit. Step back and consider your other options.->Transport Hub Intro II]]

Just what *the Lead* entails isn't exactly clear to you, but the line for it is by far the largest. All are women, and you notice a secondary line featuring a few dressed in the full slave-rated gear you (if: $Blue is true or $Smoke is true or $Sec is true or $Brand is true)[saw mentioned in the Wardrobe Device. Uniformally black, with strict breath regulating masks, tight corsets, and tall boots, you have to imagine its not a particularly comfortable outfit to wear.](if: $Slave is true)[are also being subjected to. Watching the nearest closely, you can see her hips shifting back and forth. Its not hard to imagine the dildos undoubtedly locked inside her, a line of thought that causes your own cunt to ache. Taking as deep a breath as your corset and mask will allow, you at least realize there must be a seperate service for those in slave regalia.] (set: $TransportCheck to it + 1) Above the crowd a large sign provides what you're looking for: rules and cost. Slaves are allowed to travel for free(if: $Slave is true)[ (you would not qualify, given an owner is mentioned as necessary)]. Freewombs such as yourself are also allowed to travel for free, but only at designated times-- apparently early in the morning, or for a few hours before nightfall. You suppose you could always wait awhile for that free period, but that could put you dangerously off schedule. Actually purchasing a ticket is also possible, at the cost of 200 credits. [[At least its relatively cheap? Take a step back to consider.->Transport Hub Intro II]]

Without a credit to your name, and nothing of value in your possession, getting into Downtown will be difficult. Yet checking all your options seems a good idea, if only to set yourself a goal. There has to be a way to make some quick money on Torei. [[How about the Carriages?->Carriage Hub]] [[The Train is always an option.->Train Hub]] [[What of The Lead?->Lead Hub]] (if: $TransportCheck is >= 3)[Turning around, you make your way to a nearby railing, the raised platform allowing you a good view of the nearby streets. You need to scrounge a few credits, and through the milling crowds you do indeed spot [[a few potential opportunities.->Street Hub]]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/hsGWqat.jpg="30%"> You're just one laminate-clad woman among many now. The occasional passing man causes more of a stir, those of your gender always making sure to clear out of their way. Your focus is on find credits, however, as you recall the possibilities you glimpsed as you descend beneath the transport hub's raised platform. One of the massive supporting pillars bears a number of posters, some advocating nearby sales, others city announcements. One in particular, a notice detailing a runaway slave, seems new. *Ellia Amadori*, it reads. *Reward offered for capture.* (if: $TruantQuest is true)[It's the woman the Truant Officer is searching for.] (if: $OffworlderCheck is false)[Near the corner of a particularly busy corner, a man wears something quite extraordinary-- pants and jacket, without a hint of laminate! He's calling out to the crowd, and trying to hand out pamphlets of some sort. You're not sure what that's about, but he's quite obviously an Offworlder like yourself.](if: $OffworlderCheck is true)[The offworlder, Michael, can still be seen approaching strangers regarding his Society. It does not appear he is having much success.] (if: $IsabellaCheck is false)[Seated on a bench near the transport hub, a familiar woman is watching passersby through mirrored glasses, smoking from a rectangular device. Her black laminate clothing has an aggressive, bold style-- and you recognize her as the woman you passed in the hotel's hallway. Perhaps she's the charitable sort?](if: $IsabellaCheck is true)[The Torean Mistress, Isabella, remains nearby. Her mirrored glasses look out upon the world as she taps the foot on one crossed leg, her steel-shod sole audible even from here.] (if: $NunCheck is false)[The rows of buildings are broken by a small, gated lot filled with strange... you struggle to call them *trees*. They rise in a trunk-like manner and form an oppressive, light absorbing canopy above, but their deep violet boughs are more like waves of laminate frozen in position. For some reason, you feel... a call to explore the space.](if: $NunCheck is true)[The gate to the Convent and Sister Euphoria remains open, although the cloaked Sister herself is lost amongst the solitude of her garden.] You currently have: (print: $debt) credits. (if: $Quinn is true and $TruantQFound is false)[[[You try to make your way to Quinnette Way, the address the carriage is scheduled to make that strange pickup from.->TransitCheckFromHub]]] (if: $TruantFound is true)[[[The Truant Officer you met before is waiting near her police cruiser, the only vehicle you've seen on these streets.->TransitCheckFromHub]]] (if: $OffworlderCheck is false)[[[The Offworlder, certainly he could be of help.->Offworlder Greet]]](if: $OffworlderCheck is true)[[Return to Michael, of the Liberty Society. You need to speak with him again.->TransitCheckFromHub]] (if: $IsabellaCheck is false)[[[The mysterious woman from the hotel, at least I know her...->Isabella Greet]]](if: $IsabellaCheck is true)[[[Isabella, the Torean Mistress from the hotel->TransitCheckFromHub]]] (if: $NunCheck is false)[[[I want to explore the strange yard and its so-called trees.->Nun Greet]]](if: $NunCheck is true)[[[Sister Euphoria, praying beneath the trees.->TransitCheckFromHub]]] [[Walk back up the ramp to the transport hub, you want to check out the travel situation again.->Transport Hub III]] [[The streets here have all sorts of attractions-- you decide to simply wander, to see where they take you.->TransitCheckFromHub]] (if: $debt is >= 200)[[[You've scrapped together enough for the lead! You can now leave, but better means of transport may still be available.->Transport Hub III]]] (if: $debt is >= 400)[[[Now you have enough credits for a train ticket-- if you have found the necessary permit as well.->Transport Hub III]]] (if: $debt is >= 600)[[[You may not be rich, but you've got enough to travel in style by carriage. Head to the Transport Hub now.->Transport Hub III]]] (if: $FreeLead is true)[[[You reckon its late enough in the day that the free Lead service is now available.->Transport Hub III]]]

You make your way back up the switchback slope, to the transport hub that rose above the local set of blocks. The various lines you saw before have changed somewhat, but much is the same as you left it. Several flickering signs provide reminders as to the cost of traveling. **The Lead:** (text-style: "blink")[200 Credits] **The Train:** (text-style: "blink")[400 Credits] **The Carriages:** (text-style: "blink")[600 Credits] You have (print: $debt) credits. (if: $TrainPass is false)[You do not have the pass required for the train.](if: $TrainPass is true)[You have the pass necessary to ride the train as a Freewomb.] (if: $FreeLead is false)[The Lead is not yet free, but will be if you wait long enough.](if: $FreeLead is true)[Dusk approaches. The Lead is now free for all Freewombs.] [[You're satisfied, and head back down the ramp to the Torean Streets.->Street Hub]] (if: $NunPick is true and $NunHave is false)[[[You're here to pickup Sister Dahlia, and head for the Slave Pens near the rear of the platform.->TransPickup]]] (if: $TruantQuestCarr is true and $Quinn is false)[[[Following a lead, you approach the Carriage booth about the runaway slave Amadori.->TruantQTrans]]] (if: $ElizabethLoc is true and $TruantQLie is false and $TruantQLieNo is false)[[[Michael told you to speak with his partner Elizabeth, to be found on a red bench...->TruantQLiz]]] (if: $Donate is true and $DonateTrans is false)[[[You're here to run the Liberty Society's donations booth.->DonateTran]]] (if: $debt is >= 200 and $FreeLead is false)[[[You approach the line for the Lead, finally ready to leave.->LeaveLead]]] (if: $debt is >= 400)[[[You approach the line for the Train, finally ready to leave.->LeaveTrain]]] (if: $debt is >= 600)[[[You approach the line for the Carriages, finally ready to leave.->LeaveCarriage]]] (if: $FreeLead is true)[[[You approach the line for the Lead, intending to take the free option.->LeaveLeadFree]]]

You continue your approach towards the man, seemingly alone in his masculinity and offworld textiles-- adrift in a sea of laminate clad women. As you get closer you can see that most are pointedly avoiding him, his attempts to address anyone passing by being most often flately rejected. "The Society does *good work*, you can donate, or we can help," you overhear, breaking through the crowd just as a woman in pristine white laminate makes a display of crumpling one of his brochures and tossing it over her shoulder. (set: $OffworlderCheck to true) To his credit, the man takes it in stride. He's tall, well built, trending towards the rugged look you remember popular in the more swashbuckling vid series. With the arms of his shirt rolled up you can see he's well muscled, giving a sense of physicality that is not matched by the disinterest of nearly everyone around him. [["Excuse me," you address him. "Sir?"->Offworlder Greet 2]] (if: $PlayE is true)[[You remember Isabella's training. He's male, in a public place, and you're a stranger about to negotiate from a position of weakness. Greet him in the Torean fashion, with a reverence.->Offworlder Greet 2B]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/u7Wnr7F.png"> The eerie 'forest' is set apart from the road by a simple wrought-iron fence, rising cage-like far above your head. A gate stands open, however, the gentle sigh of the wind running through the strange plants, seemingly inviting you in. It's quiet. *Too quiet.* [[This is a bad idea, I'm turning back.->Street Hub]] [[Enter.->NunGreet2]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/9MFJwF5.png" width="30%" height="30%"> Several benches line the wall that doubled as the raised platfrom for the transport hub above, and most of them are full-- except for one, at which the woman you saw in the hotel is seated alone. Her glossy laminated legs are crossed, one over the other so that a sharp stiletto flashes in the light at your approach. The inset of her black boots are chromed steel. She takes a long pull from some manner of electronic cigarette, the tip bright red. Exhaling crimson smoke, you catch a cinnamon scent. Her eyes are hidden by mirrored glasses and she doesn't turn to regard you, but you're given a command nevertheless. "On your knees, slave." (set: $IsabellaCheck to true) [[You remain standing. "I am not a slave."->IsGreetRefuse]] [[Your instincts compel. You kneel before her.->IsGreetAck]]

She takes another long drag of her cigarette, twin embers reflected in her glasses. Several moments pass in silence as she holds it in, savoring the flavor. Release follows, red smoke rising from equally red lips as she finally turns to regard you directly. "(if: $Slave is true or $Blue is true)[Yet you have that collar. Show me your ID." She takes the card you provide, sliding down her glasses to inspect the FREEWOMB stamped across the top. A smile forms. "Consider me surprised. Just enjoying being restrained like that, hm?"](else:)[It never hurts to check. You would be surprised at how many go down, despite what their ID may say."] (if: $Fondled is true)[She smirks. "And you *are* that woman I passed on the way out of the hotel. The one strung up, undergoing punishment. The one I touched, *barely* and who moaned like a wet slut."](else:)[Her gloved fingers tap against the top board of the bench, her arm stretched out upon it. "My name is Isabella Naram-Sin. You're the girl from the hotel. What exactly can I do for you?"] (if: $Fondled is true)[[["I... well, you..."->Fondled II]]](else:)[[["I... have a request."->IsRequest]]]

Her tone is sharp, but not harsh. Commanding, but not shrill. You find yourself unable to resist. On the sidewalk of a public street, as strangers pass by, you kneel to the woman before you. "Knees spread(if: $Level is 1)[, hands behind your back], she continues. You comply. "Eyes down." Several nearby women are clearly looking your way, you realize as you look down at the pavement. The woman doesn't care, but she does stand, running an obsidian glove along your head. (if: $Blue is true or $Smoke is true or $Sec is true or $Brand is true)[Her fingers pull through your hair, petting gently.](if: $Slave is true)[Her fingers run against the smooth laminate of your hood, as your breath for once catches in your throat and not your mask.] Stepping forward, she plants one long leg between your spread knees, the shiny material of her catsuit running up before your face, to the meeting of her legs. You're looking at the ground though, as ordered. "Good girl. Now show me your ID." She takes your small card once offered. The image it bore of a bright, smiling traveler in a fashionable cotton dress is quite the juxtaposition to the laminated woman kneeling at her feet. The card is returned to you. "Freewomb? Interesting. Liberty can be such a burden, can it not?" She steps back and returns to her seat, indicating that you are allowed to rise. (if: $Fondled is true)[She smirks. "And you *are* that woman I passed on the way out of the hotel. The one strung up, undergoing punishment. The one I touched, *barely* and who moaned like a wet slut."](else:)[Her gloved fingers tap against the top board of the bench, her arm stretched out upon it. "My name is Isabella Naram-Sin. You're the girl from the hotel. What exactly can I do for you?"] (if: $Fondled is true)[[["I... well, you..."->Fondled II]]](else:)[[["I... have a request."->IsRequest]]]

You remember the experience vividly. Your armbinder pulled up behind you, rear raised for punishment-- and then her approach, all black laminate and confidence. The hand between your legs, teasing out more pleasure then you ever thought possible from so simple a touch. (if: $Blue is true or $Smoke is true or $Brand is true and $Level is >= 2)[Perhaps its best your armbinder is locked in place, the urge to touch that zipper between your legs would have been overwhelming.](if: $Sec is true and $Level is >= 2)[Perhaps its best your armbinder is locked in place, the urge to run a hand up your own skirt is overwelming.](if: $Slave is true and $Level is >= 2)[Your armbinder prevents the overwelming desire to play with the zipper between your legs, but your aching cunt suckles greedily on the plug buried in it nevertheless.](else:)[Only the strongest effort keeps you from reaching down, to play with the cunt she had so briefly teased.] It's only then you realize how awkwardly you're standing before her, silent, face flushed. Isabella smirks. [["I had... have a request.->IsRequest]]

You sense Isabella would respond best to the truth, and offer it as best you can. It is not easy, your situation being as bizarre as it is shameful. Or perhaps memory loss and laminate locks are normal on Torei? At the very least she doesn't seem perturbed, but listens quietly, smoking that cinnamon device. As you finish she remains silent for a time long enough to worry you. But she does eventually turn her head, your own glossy reflection visible in her glasses. You get the feeling she's... *intrigued*. "I don't do charity," she states matter-of-factly. "But... I am open to you earning a few credits." She crosses her legs again, wipe hips and full thighs hard to ignore. "And perhaps I could get help with your need of a train pass." [["What do you mean, 'earn'?"->IsPresent]]

"My family owns half this Ringdom. I could pay for your every restraint to be removed and any transit ticket you desire. But I won't. Here on Torei, girls like you need to learn to earn their keep." (if: $Level is 1)[Isabella exhales another bit of smoke, her bright red lips forming into a luscious 'O'. "The Hotel we both stayed at has the right idea with that hobble chain. But let's go further. Have you ever been in public with your arms restrained? It's quite the learning experience to be so helpless. Chest thrust out, arms pulled back, anyone passing by could touch your tits. Your ass. Some do. Submit to an armbinder, and I'll give you... let's say 25 credits."] "(if: $Level is 1)[Go with the armbinder, and I'll add another offer afterward.](if: $Level is 1 or 2)[You might think you're deep into Torean culture now, with all that laminate... its transient. Passing. Peel the laminate off, leave this world, and you will have so little to remember us by. Let's change that. Just a bit. I'd like to see you with your nipples pierced. Submit to that, and I'll give you(if: $Level is 1)[ another] 25 credits."](if: $Level is 3 or 4)[Normally I would offer to add a few bits to your outfit, but you're already in a binder. And yes, I see those nipple piercings as well. I won't reward you if you are already being such a good girl... that's *expected* of you."] "I could offer you a chance to earn some extra credits in the proper Torean fashion," Isabella notes with amusement. "You still have your body, and your dignity. I could play with those. A little pleasure, or perhaps a little etiquette? I won't tell you what's involved, where is the fun in that-- but I will give you up to 50 credits each, depending on how well you do." Her steel-shod heel taps a few times on the pavement. "I even have a Freewomb Rail Pass. "(if: $Slave is true)[You're aware the train and carriages won't allow you aboard in that uniform, yes? There is a way I would... perhaps have a pass for you, in a manner of speaking. Otherwise your only option is the Lead, or to find a way out of that suit." She openly scoffs at that idea.](else:)[But that would take an entirely different sort of commitment from you."] Isabella Naram-Sin looks away, back towards the passing crowds. "So there are your choices. Are they good ones?" She smiles, before raising her cigarette to her lips. (set: $PlayP to false)(set: $PlayE to false) [[She certainly is full of ideas.->Isabella Hub]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/9MFJwF5.png" width="30%" height="30%"> Isabella sits patiently, her mirrored glasses watching others pass on the street. (if: $PlayE is true)[You remember your etiquette lesson, and recognize she is your social superior. Thus you greet her with a reverence, spreading your legs and (if: $Sec is true)[(if: $Level is 1)[lifting your skirt, briefly exposing your womanhood as you lower your eyes and bow.]](if: $Slave is true or $Brand is true or $Blue is true or $Smoke is true)[lowering your eyes, head bowed, presenting your catsuit's zipper by kneeling before her.] Isabella's placid expression shifts into a slight smile.] You have (print: $debt) credits. (if: $TruantQuest is true and $TruantQuestCarr is false)[[["Have you heard anything about that runaway slave, Amadori?"->IsabellaRunQ]]] (if: $Level is 1)[[["I wanted to talk about getting that armbinder." (+25 Credits)->IsArm]]] (if: $Level is 2)[[["You mentioned... wanting me to get piercings?"->IsPierce]]] (if: $PlayP is false)[[["I'd... like to play, as you said. Pleasure."->IsPlayP]]] (if: $PlayE is false)[[["I'd... like to play, as you said. Etiquette."->IsPlayE]]] (if: $IsSlave is false and $debtShower is false)[[["You mentioned you had a Train Pass?"->IsSlavePathREFUTE]]] (if: $IsSlave is false and $debtShower is false and $PlayE is true and $PlayP is true)[[["Now that we've played... you mentioned a train pass?"->IsSlavePath]]] (if: $debtShower is true and $Slave is false)[["I want... that slave suit, as we discussed."->GetSlave]] (if: $Slave is true and $debtShower is true and $Strike is > 10)[["I'm ready to commit, Isabella. Really. I want to be your slave."->Slave Commit]] (if: $Donate is true and $DonateEnd is false and $DonateIsabella is false)[[["Isabella, could I speak to you about the Liberty Society?->DonateIsabella]]] [["Did you say your family owns half this city?"->IsAsk]] [[For now you step away, looking elsewhere for help.->TransitChecktoHub]]

"Of course you do," Isabella smirks. "Terms are pretty straightforward. There is a Wardrobe Device just around the corner. We'll walk over there, and I'll set everything up. In a few minutes you can have your arms tightly bound in laminate behind your back. It's not comfortable, and you will have to deal with a certain feeling of... helplessness. But that's part of the fun." She lifts a gloved hand, forefinger rubbing against her thumb. "And I will give you 25 credits for being such a good girl." [[You do need to earn that money. "I'll submit."->IsArm 2]] [["I'm not ready for that, I have to think about it."->Isabella Hub]]

"I thought you might say that," Isabella muses, turning to look your way. Her lips are so very bright red, shining as she smiles. "Terms on this one are simple enough. We take a walk around the corner, there is a Wardrobe machine. I'll set everything up-- there will be a fee for removing and then reapplying the laminate over your chest, but I can handle that. It's for a good cause. "I'll give you 25 credits, and the Wardrobe will give you nice set of piercings through those tits of yours. It will hurt, but this is Torei, we can heal that. The sensitivity, however? That will be permanent. Every step forward will see your laminate tugging ever so slightly on them... you good with that?" [["I'm good with that, I think."->IsPierce 2]] [["I'm not ready for that, I have to think about it."->Isabella Hub]]

"Pleasure," she repeats, the word rolling across her bright red lips. "Sure, we can play with that. But don't think I'm going to treat you easier because you're some offworlder. We will do it right here, in public, the Torean way. That means your submission, via verbal contract, for the duration of our agreed upon contract. Let's say... an hour?" (if: $Brand is true or $Sec is true or $Smoke is true)[She opens her purse, pulling out a black circle of shiny laminate. A silver pendant hangs from the front, *Property of Isabella Naram-Sin* engraved upon it. "I'll set the timer on the back for an hour, and lock this on you."](if: $Slave is true or $Blue is true)[She opens her purse, pulling out a small silver pendant on which is engraved *Property of Isabella Naram-Sin.* "I'll set the timer on the side of the hook," she orders. "Then snap it to that collar you already have."] "Then we can begin, and you can earn... up to 50 credits." [[You swallow hard... but nod. "I'd like that."->IsPlayP 2]] [["I'm having second thoughts, let me... reconsider."->Isabella Hub]]

(set: $Strike to it +1) (if: $Blue is true)[You're a glossy blue doll among so many other women as you step away and consider your options.] (if: $Smoke is true)[The streets are full of other women, but few wear transparent laminate. Eyes naturally drift towards your womanhood, that black strip the only modesty you're allowed as you step away and consider your options.] (if: $Brand is true)[Your wide hips and tight corset draw looks, but its the adverts on your suit where eyes linger. Among so much laminate you still stand out. At least you're getting the hang of your boots, as you step away and consider your options.] (if: $Sec is true)[Your prim, professional attire helps you cut through the crowds. Those in the full black, mask, and collar of a slave even given you deference. Smiling, your candy red pumps snap against the concrete as you step away and consider your options.] (if: $Slave is true)[Among so many brightly colored woman, your black laminate uniform stands out distinctly. As you step away to consider your options, you fight to suppress the moan that comes with the shifting of your plugs. A passerby slaps your ass with a smile, your collar and uniform making you an easy target.] (if: $Strike is 2)[[[Your passage along the sidewalk is halted by a slowing in the crowd. Some sort of checkpoint awaits, ahead, without another means of passing. It takes some time for the queue before you to be processed, but as soon as you reach the front a harsh hand grabs you!->Truant Greet]]](if: $Strike is 4)[[[As you continue on your way, however, a voice suddenly calls out from behind. "Hey, you, girl!"->Strike4Start]]](if: $Strike is 6)[[[Making your way along the sidewalk, something catches your eye...->Strike6Start]]](if: $Strike is 8)[[[Your walk is interrupted by the sight of a woman standing out from the crowd...->Strike8Start]]](if: $Strike is 10)[[[The path before you turns, and a small crowd confronts you...->Strike10Start]]](if: $Strike is 12)[[[As you continue on your way, something catches your eye...->Strike12Start]]](if: $Strike is 14)[[[Your path forward is blocked by a line, of sorts...->Strike14Start]]](if: $Strike is 16)[[[Suddenly you pause, an intriguing sight catching your eye...->Strike16Start]]](if: $Strike is 18)[[[Walking among your fellow freewombs, you find your eyes drifting...->Strike18Start]]](if: $Strike is 20)[[[As you make your way along the Torean streets, you get the strange sense of being followed...->Strike20Start]]] (if: $Strike is 1 or 3 or 5 or 7 or 9 or 11 or 13 or 15 or 17 or 19)[[[Continue on your way.->Street Hub]]](if: $Strike is > 20)[[[Continue on your way.->Street Hub]]]

"Etiquette..." the midnight clad woman purrs, turning to eye you with amusment. "Do you understand what that even truly means, on Torei? I suspect you're (if: $Slave is true)[learning quite rapidly, in that slave suit.](else:)[picking it up piece by piece so far.] But you *could* do with a proper lesson on the basics. Torean culture expects many things of you, just because you're female. A mindset, in fact, that offworlders struggle with. Thus... etiquette. Internalizing our culture takes time, but anyone can be shown how to perform a proper Torean reverence. Such things is what we will play with." Isabella adjusts her glasses slightly. "We will discuss and demonstrate, and then at the end I will test you. Depending on how well you do, I will reward you up to 50 credits. How does that sound?" [[At least knowing what others expect of you could be very beneficial. "I would like to learn."->IsPlayE 2]] [["I'm having second thoughts, let me... reconsider."->Isabella Hub]]

Isabella nods, adjusting the fall of her ponytail afterward. "I know you can't remember much, but you must have heard of the Diarchs, right? Diarchy means rule of two. Technically any man or freewomb can be elected to each Diarch's chair. In reality, they always come from the two same families. One of them, the Naram-Sin, is mine." She taps her electronic cigarette, despite the lack of ash. Perhaps its an old habit. "It's a big family, though. I've only met my family's Diarch once. Anyway, you're not here to talk about politics. Let's talk about something *fun.*" [["Fun. Right..."->Isabella Hub]]

"I do," Isabella replies, a gust of wind blowing the scent of cinnamon from her direction. "But that is not a topic I would broach with you lightly. Certainly there must be other options available for you. Other sources of a pass, perhaps. The Lead, certainly." She looks to you, your glossy form reflected in her mirror glasses. "What I ask would be steep indeed." [["Noted... let me ask around some more, perhaps another option would be better."->Isabella Hub]] [["I want to hear your offer."->IsSlavePath II]]

You barely get a glimpse of a uniformed woman behind you, pulling you deeper into the checkpoint. A set of barriers with chainlink fences rising from the concrete provide a cordon, behind which an operation of some size is currently being undertaken. Several police-like vehicles are parked off to one side, the first such you've seen on the streets, while you're guided towards the other side-- into a side alley where more uniformed officers are dividing those such as yourself who are pulled from the line into two groups-- slaves and freewombs. (if: $Slave is true)[[[You're led towards those wearing the full black slave ensemble such as yourself, alongside a few collared women.->TruantSlave]]] (if: $Blue is true or $Smoke is true or $Brand is true or $Sec is true)[[[You're led towards the freewombs.->TruantReg]]]

"That's what I like to hear." Rising in a flourish of black laminate, Isabella leads you around the corner of the raised transit platform. A large opening leads down into an area excavated beneath, a sign over which reads *Pubic Facilities*. Those facilities turn out to be several bathrooms, one marked for Men, one for Freewombs, and one for Slaves-- and a row of Wardrobe Devices. Changing outfits after or just prior to a trip seems to be common. Isabella selects an open Wardrobe for you, using her own credentials to bring up a far more extensive catalog of options then you had seen at the Hotel. Selecting a (if: $Blue is true)[black] (if: $Smoke is true)[black] (if: $Brand is true)[black] (if: $Sec is true)[red] (if: $Slave is true)[black] armbinder design, she pays for the choice before indicating the now opened doors with a flourish. "Your bondage awaits." [[Step in.->IsArm 3]]

A tiled room, a simply display before you. You remember this, and you remember what comes next as the door behind you closes and arms seize your wrists, ankles, and throat. The Wardrobe whirls, arms cycling upward as those gripped to your wrists suddenly jerk your arms back. It isn't a gentle experience. Given the larger print job, three of the device's appendages begin circling your arms, coating them in the laminate that is quickly flash-set into a tight layer. Reinforcements are built into the area around your hands to prevent an escape, and so that a large ring can be emplaced-- which, once cooled an armature seizes, demonstrating just how easily you can now be controlled that way. The final component is the portion that circles around your shoulders and upper chest, anchoring the binder and preventing it from being slipped off easily. (set: $debt to it + 25) (set: $Level to 2) Already your shoulders whine with hints of pain, the position unpracticed. <img src="https://i.imgur.com/gh59YMk.png" width="30%" height="30%"> You emerge to find Isabella waiting, her glasses resting on her forehead so that she can given the Wardrobe's work a discerning look over. She tugs on the laminate covering your shoulders, and the outline of your elbows. Whatever she finds apparently meets her standards as she reaches up, dropping her glasses back into place. Stepping forward she reaches out, one hand finding your (if: $Brand is true or $Slave is true)[tightly corseted] waist, corralling you as her other hand explores one of your shiny(if: $Blue is true)[blue] (if: $Smoke is true)[smoky] (if: $Brand is true)[logo adorned] (if: $Sec is true)[white] (if: $Slave is true)[black] breasts. Her fingers almost immediately hardened your nipple, a trick that only furthers the sharp bit of pain when she pinches it slightly. "See how nice this is?" She asks. "Helpless." As if to underscore that point she releases you, but not without a rude slap of your ass. "You earned those 25 credits," she laughs, following you back up and around the corner to her bench. [[She retakes her seat as you adjust to your new armbinder.->Isabella Hub]]

"That's what I like to hear." Rising in a flourish of black laminate, Isabella leads you around the corner of the raised transit platform. A large opening leads down into an area excavated beneath, a sign over which reads *Pubic Facilities*. Those facilities turn out to be several bathrooms, one marked for Men, one for Freewombs, and one for Slaves-- and a row of Wardrobe Devices. Changing outfits after or just prior to a trip seems to be common. Isabella selects an open Wardrobe for you, using her own credentials to bring up a far more extensive catalog of options then you had seen at the Hotel. Selecting silvered piercings described as *Torean Standard*, she indicates the now opened door. "So few women on this planet remain unpierced for long. Its nothing to be ashamed of." [[Step in.->IsPierce 3]]

You're hobbled and bound, and the Wardrobe knows it. The customary arms grab at your wrists, ankles, and throat-- but another also seizes the ring set in your armbinder. You're left imagining what for, or at least until it demonstrates. The device holding onto your armbinder's ring pulls suddenly downward just as your legs are yanked forward. You're suspended in the air now, back arched, breasts pressing against the laminate cups of your oufit as they're thrust out. (if: $lave is true or $Brand is true)[Your corset makes the position painful in the extreme.] It's then that a new armature appears, this one new, at least to your eyes. Instead of a gripping limb, or a painter-like nozzle, this has something much more sinister: a lancing needle. Long, silvery... and move mechanically down, towards your breasts. The protection offered by your outfit is momentarily vacated, solvants being applied that melt the material readily in a steam that fans suck away greedily. With unnerving precision, the needle is positioned. There is no fanfare, no warning-- it merely shifts suddenly, one moment waiting beside your nipple, the next pierced straight through it. The Wardrobe device doesn't much care for your reaction. It does provide a quite fast acting healing agent, undoubtedly a Torean marvel of bioengineering that would have fascinated the Prospector that is your job title, but that seems less a kindness and more simple utilitarianism. Once healed, a silvery barbell is inserted, your violation now marked by the small silver balls now framing the highlight of your chest. You hang limply as the procedure is repeated on your other nipple. Afterward the nozzles return, reapplying the laminate of your suit. Its as if they had never torn it apart, but the foreign sensations emanating from your chest are a constant reminder... <img src="https://i.imgur.com/5744pPZ.png" width="30%" height="30%"> [[Stumble out.->IsPierce4]]

Isabella awaits, her glasses up on her forehead so she can take a better look. She certainly cares little for your sense of privacy, stepping forward immediately, one hand finding your (if: $Brand is true or $Slave is true)[tightly corseted] waist, corralling you as her other hand explores one of your shiny(if: $Blue is true)[blue] (if: $Smoke is true)[smoky] (if: $Brand is true)[logo adorned] (if: $Sec is true)[white] (if: $Slave is true)[black] breasts. Finding your nipple, her own laminated fingers pull at the bit of steel now piercing it. To your surprise, it almost feels as good as it hurts, eliciting a moan you fail to hold back. (set: $Level to 3)(set: $debt to it + 25) "Good girl," she nevertheless rewards you, standing momentarily hip to hip with her arm still around you. "Feel that? Stick your chest out. Those are *permanent*. Isn't it wonderful?" Her grin remains as she releases you, then leads the way back up to the street and around the corner. Finding her bench, she returns to it. "You're not a Torean girl until you've got those," Isabella notes as she brings out her cigarette again. "Was there something else?" [[She does have other opportunities.->Isabella Hub]]

Isabella snaps her owner's pendant onto you. "I'd like that, *Mistress*," she replies, her normally commanding tone growing stricter. "Until that comes off, you're *mine.* Now come here, on my lap." She shifts her seated posture, uncrossing her legs so that one thigh in particular is presented. (set: $PlayCheck to 0) [["On second thought, maybe I can't do this...->IsPlayPNo]] [[Approach her, and seat yourself on her lap.->IsPlayPYes]] [[Approach her, and straddle her offered leg.->IsPlayPlus]]

"Oh, its too late for that," Isabella muses. "Like I said: you're *mine* for the next hour. It won't be hard. All you need to do is listen to my orders and submit to them. Be a good girl." Grey eyes emerge from behind her mirrored shades. "Now earn you credits like a Torean girl, and come to my lap. (set: $PlayCheck to it - 1) [[Approach her, and seat yourself on her lap.->IsPlayPYes]] [[Approach her, and straddle her offered leg.->IsPlayPlus]]

You approach the seated Torean slowly(if: $Level is > 0)[, your hobble chain pulling momentarily taut as you position yourself]. (if: $Level is >= 2)[She guides you down with a hand on your armbinder.] Her obsidian laminate is quite warm to the touch after so long beneath the sun above, the heat cutting through your own glossy layer of material. You find it strangely calming as she wraps one hand around your(if: $Brand is true or $Slave is true)[ corseted] waist, pulling you more firmly into her embrace. Further below, Isabella shifts her heeled boots, interlocking one with your own. Several passing strangers note your intimacy as they pass, but the woman upon which you are seated ignores them completely. Instead her focus is solely on you, meeting your gaze(if: $Slave is true)[ through the glass of your mask]. (set: $PlayCheck to it + 1) "Good girl. Chest out, back straight. Are you comfortable?" [["I think so."->MCheckFail]] [["Yes, Mistress."->MCheckPass]]

You approach the seated Torean slowly(if: $Level is > 0)[, your hobble chain pulling momentarily taut as you position yourself](if: $Level is >= 2)[, while she guides you down with a hand on your armbinder]. However, at the last moment you pivot, taking a position stradling her offered leg instead of seated regularly upon. Your laminate legs glide against her own, Isabella's red lips pursing momentarily before she smiles. "Horny little thing, aren't you? I like that." Her obsidian laminate is quite warm to the touch after so long beneath the sun above, the heat cutting through your own glossy layer of material. You find it strangely calming as she wraps one hand around your(if: $Brand is true or $Slave is true)[ corseted] waist, pulling you more firmly into her embrace. Further below, Isabella shifts her heeled boots, interlocking one with your footwear. Several passing strangers note your intimacy as they pass, but the woman upon which you are seated ignores them completely. Instead her focus is solely on you, meeting your gaze(if: $Slave is true)[ through the glass of your mask].(set: $PlayCheck to it + 2) "Good girl. Chest out, back straight. Are you comfortable?" [["I think so."->MCheckFail]] [["Yes, Mistress."->MCheckPass]]

"You think so, *Mistress,*" she reminds you, sternly. "Next time you forget, I will remind you more forcibly." It's a warning you don't want consider too long, and one she is content to leave there for the moment. Instead her attention turns to your outfit, so much of it now gliding against her own slick laminate. (if: $Blue is true)["I like the color," she notes, fondling your chest gently. "Black has such a peculiar meaning, on Torei. It is the color of power, of dominance-- and conversely, abject submission. But something like this, your bright blue? Those with a submissive mindset should enjoy the bright colors allowed to them. I prefer it in my slaves. It allows you to acquire the attention of your betters, it places your entire body on display. That's how you can become valuable." Her attention shifts to the black of your various cuffs, a finger sliding along your belt. "And you chose something so readily intended for bondage. Do you *like* being restrained? I bet you do."] (if: $Smoke is true)["You must have been quite horny when picking that oufit," she notes, fondling your chest gently. "Transparency is a fashion statement unto itself, but it so often trends towards the submissive-- and its almost always too adventurous for offworlders. The harness is nice as well, but I think I would prefer my slaves with something a bit more supportive. You are well endowed even without the Ministry of Improvements working on you, that should be emphasized.] (if: $Brand is true)["So, are you merely frugal, or is there something more in this choice of outfit," she asks, a hand moving up to gently fondle your breasts. "Perhaps you're an exhibitionist. Deep down, you want the attention being branded so garishly like this gives you. Someone else's words written on your thighs, an invitation for others to join you in submission on your back? It's not something we see often on Torei-- those who wish to be slaves can get the full experience so easily, after all." Her attention shifts to your boots. "Those look fun, though. I bet your ankles are killing you already. Toes too."] (if: $Sec is true)["I like this look on you," she explains, a hand casually playing with your breast. You're trying to maintain something like your dignity, despite everything. A professional look can go far in pursuit of that." Her hand slips between your knees, momentarily playing along your inner thighs. "But everyone knows you working girls don't wear panties so you can use your cunts at the first opportunity. Working hard certainly helps, but its always the slut on her knees that gets the promotion-- isn't it?"] (if: $Slave is true)["Look at you," she muses, casually playing with one of your encapsulted breasts. "Already just another black laminate slave, one of... thousands, perhaps millions. Did you know how hard it would be to get out of that suit, when you first submitted to it? Slaves like you are treated like almost interchangeable property, even if you hold Freewomb status... because that's what you are. Two plugged holes, constantly primed for your betters... a breath regulating mask to take away your identity, to keep you compliant... and a thick corset to show off that pretty ass. And I bet you just *love* the idea of it."] Isabella leans in closer. "Now, do you know what I meant when I said we would play with pleasure?" [["You... meant my body, Mistress. The pleasure that my body can give, or provide others."->MCheckFailII]] [["You... meant my body, Mistress. The pleasure I can be given, the things that can be done to me."->MCheckFailII]] [["You... meant your body, Mistress. The pleasure it can receive, or be given."->MCheckPassII]]

"Very good," she notes, her title used correctly. (set: $PlayCheck to it + 1) (if: $Blue is true)["I like the color," she notes, fondling your chest gently. "Black has such a peculiar meaning, on Torei. It is the color of power, of dominance-- and conversely, abject submission. But something like this, your bright blue? Those with a submissive mindset should enjoy the bright colors allowed to them. I prefer it in my slaves. It allows you to acquire the attention of your betters, it places your entire body on display. That's how you can become valuable." Her attention shifts to the black of your various cuffs, a finger sliding along your belt. "And you chose something so readily intended for bondage. Do you *like* being restrained? I bet you do."] (if: $Smoke is true)["You must have been quite horny when picking that oufit," she notes, fondling your chest gently. "Transparency is a fashion statement unto itself, but it so often trends towards the submissive-- and its almost always too adventurous for offworlders. The harness is nice as well, but I think I would prefer my slaves with something a bit more supportive. You are well endowed even without the Ministry of Improvements working on you, that should be emphasized.] (if: $Brand is true)["So, are you merely frugal, or is there something more in this choice of outfit," she asks, a hand moving up to gently fondle your breasts. "Perhaps you're an exhibitionist. Deep down, you want the attention being branded so garishly like this gives you. Someone else's words written on your thighs, an invitation for others to join you in submission on your back? It's not something we see often on Torei-- those who wish to be slaves can get the full experience so easily, after all." Her attention shifts to your boots. "Those look fun, though. I bet your ankles are killing you already. Toes too."] (if: $Sec is true)["I like this look on you," she explains, a hand casually playing with your breast. You're trying to maintain something like your dignity, despite everything. A professional look can go far in pursuit of that." Her hand slips between your knees, momentarily playing along your inner thighs. "But everyone knows you working girls don't wear panties so you can use your cunts at the first opportunity. Working hard certainly helps, but its always the slut on her knees that gets the promotion-- isn't it?"] (if: $Slave is true)["Look at you," she muses, casually playing with one of your encapsulted breasts. "Already just another black laminate slave, one of... thousands, perhaps millions. Did you know how hard it would be to get out of that suit, when you first submitted to it? Slaves like you are treated like almost interchangeable property, even if you hold Freewomb status... because that's what you are. Two plugged holes, constantly primed for your betters... a breath regulating mask to take away your identity, to keep you compliant... and a thick corset to show off that pretty ass. And I bet you just *love* the idea of it."] Isabella leans in closer. "Now, do you know what I meant when I said we would play with pleasure?" [["You... meant my body, Mistress. The pleasure that my body can give, or provide others."->MCheckFailII]] [["You... meant my body, Mistress. The pleasure I can be given, the things that can be done to me."->MCheckFailII]] [["You... meant your body, Mistress. The pleasure it can receive, or be given."->MCheckPassII]]

"Well considered, but *wrong,*" Isabella replies, taking off her glasses and setting them down on the bench beside herself. "This *is* about my body. Slaves always get it backwards. They think with their cunts, and that's understandable. Smart girls don't find themselves in a collar. But there must be something in their minds above their bodies-- and that is the body of their Mistress." You're certainly close enough to get a perfect view of *your* Mistress' body. Her every curve is clad in glossy black laminate, a dark sea on which roll waves of reflected light. Wide hips and a full chest dominate, the corset between only emphasizing what was already naturally bountiful. The arms that hold you are equally black, as if the world was not allowed to know the grace of her direct touch. Looking up, even her eyes are mesmerizing, grey like cold steel, but so very alive with light. Watching, always watching. The bright red lips just below curve into a smile as she notices your attention. [[You blush. She's already holding you so provocatively in public, its best not to push it."->MCheckFailIII]] (if: $Blue is true or $Smoke is true or $Sec is true or $Brand is true)[[[You kiss her. So close together, her pleasure on your mind...->MCheckKiss]]](if: $Slave is true)[[[Rub your plugged cunt against her leg.->MCheckSlave]]] [[You lower your eyes immediately, blushing as you lean in a bit closer, almost inviting an ever further embrace.->MCheckPassIII]]

"Very perceptive," Isabella relates, removing her glasses. Setting them down on the bench beside herself, she returns that hand to your body. (set: $PlayCheck to it + 1) "This *is* about my body. Slaves always get it backwards. They think with their cunts, and that's understandable. Smart girls don't find themselves in a collar. But there must be something in their minds above their bodies-- and that is the body of their Mistress." You're certainly close enough to get a perfect view of *your* Mistress' body. Her every curve is clad in glossy black laminate, a dark sea on which roll waves of reflected light. Wide hips and a full chest dominate, the corset between only emphasizing what was already naturally bountiful. The arms that hold you are equally black, as if the world was not allowed to know the grace of her direct touch. Looking up, even her eyes are mesmerizing, grey like cold steel, but so very alive with light. Watching, always watching. The bright red lips just below curve into a smile as she notices your attention. [[You blush. She's already holding you so provocatively in public, its best not to push it."->MCheckFailIII]] (if: $Blue is true or $Smoke is true or $Sec is true or $Brand is true)[[[You kiss her. So close together, her pleasure on your mind...->MCheckKiss]]] [[You lower your eyes immediately, blushing as you lean in a bit closer, almost inviting an ever further embrace.->MCheckPassIII]]

"I can tell you're aroused," she notes, speaking it aloud without a hint of shame. "And I want you to know right now that you're going to stay that way. we are exploring *my* pleasure, after all." She releases you, snapping her gloved fingers. "On your knees, on the ground, between my legs." [[You pull yourself from her slowly before making for the floor.->MCheckIV]]

Already so close together, it's not a hard maneuver to land. Even so, in just the briefest of moments before you connect, you can see those eyes-- so perceptive-- allowing you forward. Surprised, yes. But intrigued. Testing you. Your (if: $Blue is true)[dark blue] (if: $Smoke is true)[warm red] (if: $Brand is true)[bright red] (if: $Sec is true)[bright red] lips press against her own, so warm and inviting. Interlocked, you shift as best you can, pressing into her further. Your breasts meet her own, (if: $Level is 3 or 4)[your piercings providing sweet sensations as] she coordinates, drawing you in further. Several nearby woman pause to watch the show. [[Finally pull back, keep up your confidence with a lidded look.->MCheckKissFail]] [[Finally pull back, and lower your eyes. "Apologies, Mistress."->MCheckKissPass]]

Your plugged cunt, once again wet and aching, had only grown worse as she embraced you. Looking out from your heavy mask, its hard not to get lost in the reflection of your equally black bodies-- thighs, rears, legs entwined to the point its hard to tell where she begins and you end. Pressing your cunt, humping whatever was pressed between your legs, seems a good enough start as any. (set: $PlayCheck to it - 1) She responds with an immediate frown, those red lips looking so fierce as her brows pull down. Almost immediately she reaches out, seizing your (if: $Level is 3 or 4)[pierced] nipple, twisting hard. Even through your laminate it hurts, and you yelp. She doesn't let up, following it with a firm slap on your rear. "No," she states firm. "This is about my pleasure, not yours. You will have what I give you, and not a bit more." Several passersby had paused, watching the display. [["I'm sorry, Mistress, I just can't control myself sometimes... you're so beautiful."->MCheckFailIII]] [["I'll be good, I promise Mistress. You're just so beautiful."->MCheckFailIII]]

Isabella allows you to retreat, her eyes narrowed in consideration until you give a look most would see as smug. That seems to have been the wrong play. "I don't normally allow unprompted contact," she notes, tone firm. "Especially when my slave does not apologize afterward. You may be a slut, but its not proper for you to be proud of it." (set: $PlayCheck to it - 1) [[You try not to stare at her further. "Yes, Mistress."->MCheckFailIII]]

Isabella allows you to retreat, her eyes narrowed in consideration until you apologize. That seems to have been the right play. "I don't normally allow unprompted contact," she notes, a hint of a smile on those full lips you had just enjoyed. "But I appreciate your being properly ashamed. A slut like you needs to be." [[You try not to stare at her further. "Yes, Mistress."->MCheckPassIII]]

Moving onto your knees, the concrete you find yourself upon is hard against them. Laminate was proving to be many things, but it does not provide much in the way of padding. Now above you Isabella shifts her own posture, spreading her legs. One glossy steel-heeled shoe falls to each side of you, columns of black laminate running up, becoming round thighs before they meet in the space between her legs. A zipper (if: $Slave is true or $Blue is true or $Smoke is true or $Brand is true)[much like your own catsuit] can be seen there. "Back straight," she commands. "(if: $Level is 1)[Hands behind your back.] Chest out. Don't rest that rear, keep it up, just above your heels." As you comply, taking up half the sidewalk, several of the people passing by are forced to skirt around you. Isabella still doesn't care at all, and at the very least the road continues to be utterly without traffic. (if: $Blue is true or $Smoke is true or $Brand is true or $Sec is true)["The next part is very simple, she continues, returning her mirrored glasses to her eyes. We're going to focus on my pleasure. Does your tongue have any experience pleasuring another woman?"](if: $Slave is true)["The next part is very simple, she continues, returning her mirrored glasses to her eyes. We're going to focus on my pleasure. In that slave uniform, you're basically just a tool for your owner's pleasure anyway. We're going to double down on that."] [["We're going to... in the street?"->MCheckVFail]] [["In the street, I... I mean... I do not have experience with this, Mistress."->MCheckVPass]]

"*Mistress*" she asserts, reminding you once more. "You're losing credits for that." (if: $Blue is true or $Smoke is true or $Brand is true or $Sec is true)["Right here, in the street," she confirms, readily. "This is Torei, a slave pleasing her Mistress on a public bench happens every day. I want your tongue on my cunt, or as close as you can manage with the zipper in place. Do well enough, and maybe I will even pull that down."](if: $Slave is true)["Right here, in the street," she confirms, readily. Reaching into her purse, she withdraws what you immediately recognize as a dildo. Rendered in thick laminate, much like the set lodged between your legs, this one has a clear screw pattern on its backside. Before you can wonder why, she has a hand on your laminated head, pulling you closer. Your mask featured a port to which tubes or perhaps a filter could be attached, but it also proves to be a universal adapter-- a few short turns, and you suddenly have a large cock jutting lewdly from your face. "This is Torei, a slave pleasing her Mistress on a park bench happens every day. And you're in full slave regalia, you're a fucktoy whether you like it or not. Now you have the tools to serve as a fucktoy too."] [[Her hand lands on your head, guiding you towards her sealed womanhood...->MCheckVIPass]] [[You resist the hand on your head, looking up to her eyes. "I... can't do this."->MCheckBackOut]]

(set: $PlayCheck to it + 1) (if: $Blue is true or $Smoke is true or $Brand is true or $Sec is true)["Right here, in the street," she confirms, readily. "This is Torei, a slave pleasing her Mistress on a public bench happens every day. I want your tongue on my cunt, or as close as you can manage with the zipper in place. Do well enough, and maybe I will even pull that down."](if: $Slave is true)["Right here, in the street," she confirms, readily. Reaching into her purse, she withdraws what you immediately recognize as a dildo. Rendered in thick laminate, much like the set lodged between your legs, this one has a clear screw pattern on its backside. Before you can wonder why, she has a hand on your laminated head, pulling you closer. Your mask featured a port to which tubes or perhaps a filter could be attached, but it also proves to be a universal adapter-- a few short turns, and you suddenly have a large cock jutting lewdly from your face. "This is Torei, a slave pleasing her Mistress on a park bench happens every day. And you're in full slave regalia, you're a fucktoy whether you like it or not. Now you have the tools to serve as a fucktoy too."] [[Her hand lands on your head, guiding you towards her sealed womanhood...->MCheckVIPass]] [[You resist the hand on your head, looking up to her eyes. "I... can't do this."->MCheckBackOut]]

(if: $Blue is true or $Smoke is true or $Brand is true or $Sec is true)[Her hand remains on your head, gripping your blonde hair as she guides you in. The walls of black laminate that are her thighs converge, meeting at that central point to which a zipper is so tightly attached. Your pink tongue emerges to meet it, her glossy cunt so very warm against it. Despite your inexperience, you know to start slow, working your tongue along each side of the zipper in careful strokes.](if: $Slave is true)[Her hand remains on your hooded head, guiding you in. The walls of black laminate that are her thighs converge, meeting at that central point to which a zipper is so tightly attached. You guide the cock affixed to your face in gently, allowing its tip to press against the soft material-- and the flesh underneath.] Timing will be everything, and you get the sense this is very much a test. If you try to pull your head back, she will allow it, but that would be the end of your attempt. Choosing when to pull back could not be more important-- especially if you think you missed the point of peak pleasure. Better late then never. (set: $Please to 1) [[Give her pleasure.-->MCheckRepeat]]

Perhaps you're surprised to find a pitying look momentarily pass her features. She pauses, steel-shod heel tapping against the ground in thought. Isabella looks to you. "This I *won't* force. A task like this requires a willing slave. If you truly wish, we can end things here. But it will cost you credits." You're still kneeling, her legs spread before you. [["I'm sorry, Mistress. I can't.->MCheckEND]] [["I've... I've reconsidered. I can do this, Mistress."->MCheckVIPass]]

As if on cue, a small chime announces the end of your service. Removing the pendant announcing to the world that you were in service to her (if: $Slave is true)[as well as your mask's dildo], Isabella sits back on her bench, considering your efforts-- both during your discussion and the physical effort that followed afterward. { (if: $PlayCheck is 1 or 2 or 3)["Overall... I hope you at least learned something, here? Because I wasn't that impressed otherwise. You're an interesting enough toy to play with, I suppose, but it would do you well to remember that here on Torei you're nothing special. A dozen other girls are just waiting to do whatever you refuse to, or fail at. But I won't send you away empty-handed. You will get 10 credits."(set: $debt to it +10)] (if: $PlayCheck is 3 or 5)[Overall... I hope you at least learned something, here? Because I wasn't that impressed otherwise. You're an interesting enough toy to play with, I suppose, but it would do you well to remember that here on Torei you're nothing special. A dozen other girls are just waiting to do whatever you refuse to, or fail at. But you could have done worse, I suppose. You will get 20 credits."(set: $debt to it + 20)] (if: $PlayCheck is 6 or 7)["Overall... let's call it just a hair better then average, hm? You're an interesting enough toy to play with, and here on Torei that means everything. But you still have much to learn. Pleasure... it dictates some much here, on Torei. And your body is the only thing you offworlders can really offer us in the long run. Torei always has a need for... service. You will get 30 credits."(set: $debt to it +30)] (if: $PlayCheck is 8 or 9)["Overall... consider me surprised. That was an exploration of pleasure I may have expected from a Torean-born girl. From an offworlder? Let's just say you've been a very good girl. Not perfect, mind you, but very close. I will reward you with... 40 credits, as per our original negotiation"(set: $debt to it + 40)] (if: $PlayCheck is >= 10)[Overall... you outdid yourself. It could not have gone better. I know that we have spoken about your memory loss, that perhaps you will be returning to the Way Up... but have you considered staying? A collar would mold your raw talent... it would suit you. At the very least you've earned the full 50 credits possible."(set: $debt to it + 50)] } "Anyway, she concludes, having collected herself fully in the meantime. "I suppose... you're free to go. Unless there was something else you wanted to discuss?" (set: $PlayP to true) [[Were the credits worth it?->Isabella Hub]]

(set: $Please to it + 1) You work your (if: $Slave is true)[dildo](else:)[tongue] against Isabella's sealed womanhood, your eyes flicking back and forth between the laminate before you and the woman above. (if: $Please is >= 3)[Above you, Isabella leans back, getting comfortable.] (if: $Please is >= 7)[Despite her mirrored glasses, your position allows you to see Isabella's eyes have closed. She murmurs softly.] (if: $Please is >= 10)[Out of the corner of your eye, you can see you're getting quite a bit of attraction now from those who had been passing by.] (if: $Please is >= 13)[Your Mistress' right foot shifts slightly, her steel-clad heel making a bit of a grinding noise. It hides her moan from those further out, but not you.] (if: $Please is >= 17)[Your (if: $Slave is true)[neck](else:)[tongue] is getting quite tired, the muscles sore.] (if: $Please is >= 21)[The grip on the top of your head tightens.] (if: $Please is >= 24)[Isabella shifts her hips just enough that you can press even deeper with every stroke.] (if: $Please is >= 25)[Above, Isabella's breath catches slightly in her throat.] (if: $Please is >= 26)[Her breath is releases, her hips shifting backwards. You sense you may have just missed something.] (if: $Please is >= 27)[Isabella settles back, her quick breathing slowing.] [[Give her another stroke...->MCheckRepeat]] [[You've found it, you think. The point of peak pleasure. Or as close as you can get. Pull back.->MCheckR1Score]]

You pull your head back, ignoring the onlookers. Your decision has been made, and now you look for her approval. { (if: $Please is < 14)[Isabella meets your gaze immediately, her lips pulling into a frown. "Too early," she notes. "Far too early. That was worth a few credits, but I suppose you have not earned the chance for a bonus round." The hand that had moved towards her zipper pulls away.(set: $PlayCheck to it + 2)] (if: $Please is >= 14 and <= 24)[Isabella takes a moment to look down, a slight frown visible on her face. "Too early," she notes. "False peaks are a common pitfall for inexperienced slaves... but your eagerness is noted. I... suppose you've earned a chance for more." Her hand moves to her zipper.(set: $PlayCheck to it + 3)] (if: $Please is 25)[It takes a long moment for Isabella to meet your gaze, her chest rising and falling with alacrity. When she does, sitting back up as she glances momentarily at the crowd that had formed, she meets you with a smile. "I know you don't recall much, but are you sure you don't have experience with this? That was *perfect*. You've earned the right to be a proper cunt-slave." Her hand moves to her zipper.(set: $PlayCheck to it + 5)] (if: $Please is 26)[It takes a long moment for Isabella to meet your gaze, her chest rising and falling with alacrity. When she does, sitting back up as she glances momentarily at the crowd that had formed, she meets you with a smile. "I know you don't recall much, but are you sure you don't have experience with this? You were... so close. One stroke too far. But you've earned a bonus round. Her hand moves to her zipper.(set: $PlayCheck to it + 4)] (if: $Please is > 26)[Isabella takes a moment to look down, a slight frown visible on her face. "Too late," she notes. "Not bad... but you cannot overstimulate. It's a problem many new slaves have. There is something to be said for... restraint. That was worth a few credits, but I suppose you have not earned the chance for a bonus round. The hand that had moved towards her zipper pulls away.(set: $PlayCheck to it + 2)] } (if: $Please is < 12 or > 26)[[[Your eyes linger on her zipper, a lost opportunity.->MCheckEND]]] (if: $Please is > 13 and < 27)[[[Your eyes are transfixed by her zipper as its slowly pulled down...->MCheckBonus]]]

Between the soft black laminate of Isabella's legs, her slit is framed as the zipper descends. Her lips are smooth, parted slightly, as if inviting you forward. It's hardly a necessary invitation, given the fact that your Mistress does not give you the opportunity to back out this time. Her grip upon your head grows harsh. "Make me cum," she purrs above you, and I'll give you fifty extra credits. Use that (if: $Slave is true)[cock, fucktoy. Show me why you deserve that collar.](else:)[tongue, slave.]" You plunge forward, working among her tender folds. The foreplay outside her suit has already primed her, and now you're merely pushing her up the final ascent. Climax awaits, a fact demonstrated by the way her steel-shod heels slide against the pavement next to you, throwing up a few sparks as she twitches in ecstasy. How you finish this could decide how *she* finishes, and everything comes down the ruby you find embedded in her clit. So much sensual energy could come from direct stimulation, if you handle this just right... [[Take the gentle approach, give her clit piercing a soft brush...->Bonus Fail]] [[Split the difference, address her clit on the last stroke.->Bonus Fail]] [[Give Isabella a taste of her own boldness. Address her piercing HARD.->Bonus Clear]]

Isabella's back arches, her hand upon your head gripping hard. Her back arches, her breasts thrust out. Closer, and closer, and closer-- until you launch your final attack. And it's off. The woman above you never peaks, despite having come so close. You keep at it a bit longer, but eventually she yanks your head back, panting from the experience. Those that had stopped to watch seems disappointed, and they begin to drift away in ones and twos. "Close..." Isabella concludes, panting. "But not quite there. Honestly... it would have surprised me if you managed it..." She takes a deep breath, sitting back up. Below, she pulls her zipper back into place. "Maybe next time." [[Yes, Mistress...->MCheckEND]]

Isabella's back arches, her hand upon your head gripping hard. Her back arches, her breasts thrust out. Closer, and closer, and closer-- until you launch your final attack... (set: $debt to it + 50) ...and she gasps, for the first time moaning loudly as her legs twitch, pressing her cunt forcefully into your face. (if: $Slave is true)[She hilts herself on the phallus that still emerged from your mask, cumming hard. By the time she collapses back onto the bench, the dildo sliding out of her, your masking is dripping from her revelry. Some of it drips down onto your chest.](else:)[Your mouth and nose are buried in her slit, her pleasure running down your chin as she cums hard. By the time she collapses back onto the bench, you're panting as heavily as she is from the effort.] It takes her several long moments to rouse, during which you remain kneeling between her legs, and the small crowd that had gathered to watch disperse. You get the sense they're quite pleased with the display. "S-Surprising me, you... little whore..." Isabella manages, her smile wide. "Who would have guessed... a fresh offworlder... ha..." Eventually she manages to clean herself off, closing her zipper. She's still drifting in the afterglow as she looks your way. "You earned those 50 extra credits." [[Yes, Mistress...->MCheckEND]]

"Wonderful," Isabella responds, reaching for her purse. From it she withdraws (if: $Smoke is true or $Brand is true or $Sec is true)[a thick black collar, the lock on the back snapping it as she holds it up.](if: $Blue is true or $Slave is true)[a small black box, which she demonstrates snapping to the collar you're already wearing.](if: $Level is 3 or 4)[Additionally she looks to your pierced nipples, considering for a moment before digging out a pair of small half circles. Almost like pendants, small teeth clearly designed to snap onto the barbells adorning your tits are obvious.] "I will apply these to you, they will be used for the test. That will come *after* we discuss a variety of topics. I'm thinking... hmm, probably five different topics." (set: $PlayCheck to 0) [[Hopefully you're a quick learner.->IsPlayE Hub]]

Your body adorned by Isabella for testing, you stand before the seated woman as she counts off topics on a gloved hand, one finger at a time. It would be in your best interest to consider each topic fully. "The art of the Reverence, Curfew, the Ministry of Improvements, men on Torei, and... slavery." The Torean woman smiles. "Which would you like to cover?" [["Reverence, I suppose."->PlayRev]] [["Let's talk about Curfew."->PlayCurfew]] [["The... Ministry of Improvements?"->PlayImprov]] [["Let's talk about... men."->PlayMen]] [["Slavery?"->PlayOutfit]] [["Actually, I've learned enough. I think I'm ready for the test."->PlayETest]]

"Ah yes," the woman before you nods. "Reverence is an ancient Torean custom. Were I in control of the Way Up, I would demand instructions on it be given to every arriving offworlder. Any Torean worth being collared by will demand you practice it, after all. Sp what exactly is a reverence?" She pauses to draw another inhalation of her sweetly scented electronic cigarette. "Some call it the Torean curtsy. In short: as a woman, slave or freewomb, it is expected during any greeting or parting through which you are interacting with a superior in social rank. How you approach it is largely dependent on your clothing, however. And your bondage. The *classic* reverence is done if you are wearing a skirt, whereupon you spread your legs-- watching the distance carefully, too far and it is considered wanton, whoreish-- and lift your skirt to present your womanhood to the other person. It does not matter if you are thus bared, or wearing panties, or even chastity. The purpose is merely to present your current situation. During this, you lower your eyes, and depending on the social status of the person opposite you bow. Just a hint for a peer, further for someone of authority-- further still in formal situations, or if you are in the presence of any free male." Isbella gestures towards your oufit. "In your case? (if: $Sec is true)[If your arms are free, you would perform the classic reverence. That particular outfit is, in fact, designed with just such a use in mind. You would pull the hem of your skirt up, reveal yourself, then bow as far as circumstances demand.](else:)[Wearing a catsuit, as we both are, is a common enough thing as well. In our cases, if your arms are free, we would bow as usual, but in a singular smooth motion as we undo our crotch zipper-- then zip it closed again. The trick is to do it all quickly enough to appear well practiced, but not so quickly as to appear hurried. And if bound(if: $Level is > 1)[ as you are]? Then, in casual encounters you would spread your legs and press your hips forward, present your zipper as best you can. In formal circumstances you would kneel, legs spread.]" [["Reverence... got it."->IsPlayE Hub]]

Like a reigning schoolmistress, Isabella tips her head in a sage-like fashion. "Of course. Each Ringdom is different, and a handful do not hold such rules... but most do, including this one. Curfew applies to all women of majority, and effectively demands we not travel outdoors after dark unescorted." She sighs. "It is one of the more troublesome laws, truth be told. A legal escort must be male, and even with you offworlders coming in there are still precious few men. You must be leashed as well, and obviously there is a very real power dynamic involved there. Alternatives are a freewomb curfew exemption, a thing *very* rarely given, using point-to-point transport such as a carriage... or the Lead. Generally I utilize a carriage, but if say I were to attend a fancy gala a male escort would be expected. High society thrives on discussions of which man you have acquired for such things... or been forced to submit to." [["I believe I understand."->IsPlayE Hub]]

"You want to discuss *men*," Isabella replies, taking an amused tone. "All women do, eventually." She settles into her lesson with a slight shift of her seated position to become more comfortable. "You may or may not remember, given your situation, that men on Torei are rare-- generally one existing for every ten women. This gives them power, and the laws of most Ringdoms only further that. As long as they are not slaves, and few are, they are not subjected to curfew. They are excluded from most Ministry of Truancy spot checks and detainment. And earning credits is hardly difficult for them, a night providing legal escort is often enough for someone to live comfortably for a week." Her legs shift, uncrossing, then crossing again. "When interacting with a man, understand that you are subservient to him even if you have no formal contract or relation. If he wishes to touch you, it would generally be unwise to resist. If he seeks your favor, consider his intentions carefully. He has limits, but they are... far more nebulous then those you have, as a woman. Ah, always perform reverence to men, Toreans will expect that." She smiles. "I have read of how things are where you come from. Remember that it is *very* different here. There is no equality, and it is the rare woman indeed who is superior to any male." [[Torei's culture is strange, but... "I understand."->IsPlayE Hub]]

"What Torei is *known* for," Isabella declares. "But a practice few offworlders ever try to truly understand. They come to Torei with their preconceptions, their love of a liberty they hold to dearly." Her white teeth gleam from behind red. "The stories of wayward tourists falling into slavery are common enough, and popular... but what surprises most is how many slaves entered their collars *willingly*. It is not an easy life, mind you, but there are protections that come with service. Privileges, too. Be that financially, spiritually, or with regards to relationships... the possibilities are endless." (if: $Slave is true)[Your instructor for the hour eyes your outfit. "And you're already closer then most freewombs to that life."] "Regardless," she concludes. "The moral of this story is that you cannot understand slavery on Torei, not yet. You need to live among-- or within-- it for sometime. Nothing beats practical experience." [["I understand.->IsPlayE Hub]]

"Are you?" She asks, tapping the top of the bench with a gloved finger. "I suppose we shall see about that. I will ask you five simple questions, and you will respond to them. This will not simply be rout memorization, mind you, I will require you extrapolate what we discussed. Each one you get right, I'll give you ten credits. If not... well, I still hope you will have learned *something.*" She reaches into her purse again, pulling forth a small remote. That she had added to your outfit suddenly seems a lot more suspicious. "Is that understood?" (set: $PlayCheck to 0) [["Yes, I understand."->IsQ1]] [["...yes."->IsQ1]]

Isabella turns to the topic readily. "The Ministry of Improvements, yes... this one is less strictly about etiquette, but important for someone in your position to know, nevertheless. Like most other Ministries on Torei, the Ministry of Improvements operates in many Ringdoms and provides a particular service: alteration of the human body. "I do not intend to provide you with a history lesson, but suffice it to say that Torei has far more advanced medical technology then the galaxy abroad, due to the presence of the AIs. Thus the improvement of our bodies is largely seen as a trivial matter. Simple aesthetic changes are common, adjusting your breasts or hips for instance, or the color of your eyes. Few Toreans retain their strictly natural attributes for long after their majority," she notes. "Especially slaves. Improving *them* is almost a requirement, if one wishes to impress among high society. A woman should fill out her catsuit in all the right ways, after all." (if: $Brand is true)[The seated woman looks to you. "Your heels, for example? The Ministry of Improvements could adjust your feet, your tendons. Allow you to wear ballets for weeks at a time. Or... the Ministry could make changes that *require* you wear them to walk properly."] She shrugs. "The Ministry of Improvements can get quite... intensive, as well. Gender modifications, non-human additions such as tails, antlers, what have you... your imagination is often the limit. Or that of a slave's owner, at least." [["Ministry of Improvements... got it."->IsPlayE Hub]] [["Would... an offworlder be able to trade for those medical advances, perhaps...?"->IsPlayE QQ]]

Isabella meets your eyes, lips pursed. "No, not usually. The Ministry of Improvements guards its techniques and technologies jealously... and for obvious reasons, one does not wish to run afoul of it. Even those with wealth, such as myself, interact with them carefully." She shrugs. "The occasional fool gets something from the polar AIs, through their Daemons. They are the originator of the technology, after all. But it rarely ends well for them." [["...right. Got it."->IsPlayE Hub]]

"First question: you have been on the planet for sometime, and another offworlder coworker you've known for years arrives on-planet to assist with whatever work brought you here in the first place. He is *male*. You meet for the first time on a public Torean street, and you are wearing..." <img src="https://i.imgur.com/9UEUNGC.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> She points to a woman passing by in a sleek red and black dress, corseted with a short skirt. "...that. How do you greet him?" [["I greet him as I always have, we know each other."->IsQ1Fail]] [["I greet him as an offworlder, he does not know the customs.."->IsQ1Fail]] [["I greet him with a slight reverence, I have more experience then he does on the planet."->IsQ1Fail]] [["I greet him with a full reverence, skirt up, eyes down."->IsQ1Pass]]

"Incorrect," Isabella replies. "You are both offwolders, and he may not even know Torean customs. But that does not matter, not when you're in a public place as I described. He is a free male, and you are a woman. You must give him full reverence. Skirt up, eyes down, bow. If not for his sake, then for your own. You never know who is watching, and business deals have fallen through for far lesser breaches of etiquette then it getting around that you do not respect men in such a manner." A bit of a flourish is made as she holds out the small remote. Before you can inquire as to its purpose, she presses the singular button-- and a sharp shock runs through your collar(if: $Level is 3 or 4)[ and your pierced nipples.] You nearly jump out of your heels in surprise, shaking your neck (if: $Level is 3 or 4)[and breasts] to escape the lingering ache emanating from the experience. "Try harder." Isabella demands. She continues on immediately. "Question two: you are by yourself at a store, and lose track of time. It is night, the nearest lead is 20 minutes away. The store owner is male. How would you best get home?" [["There... must be curfew shelters of some sort, right? I could wait all night."->IsQ2Pass]] [["I summon a carriage on the street."->IsQ2Fail]] [["I walk to the Lead, regardless of the distance."->IsQ2Fail]] [["I ask for an escort from the store owner."->IsQ2Pass]]

"Correct," Isabella replies. "You are both offwolders, and he may not even know Torean customs. But that does not matter, not when you're in a public place as I described. He is a free male, and you are a woman. You must give him full reverence. Skirt up, eyes down, bow. If not for his sake, then for your own. You never know who is watching, and business deals have fallen through for far lesser breaches of etiquette then it getting around that you do not respect men in such a manner." She continues on immediately. "Question two: you are by yourself at a store, and lose track of time. It is night, the nearest lead is 20 minutes away. The store owner is male. How best would you get home?" (set: $PlayCheck to it + 1) [["There... must be curfew shelters of some sort, right? I could wait all night."->IsQ2Pass]] [["I summon a carriage on the street."->IsQ2Fail]] [["I walk to the Lead, regardless of the distance."->IsQ2Fail]] [["I ask for an escort from the store owner."->IsQ2Pass]]

"Correct." Isabella lifts a hand, as if to indicate the sky above. "You realized curfew is in effect, that's good. I did not mention it, but curfew shelters exist in areas far away from easy transport for just that sort of situation. To summon a carriage you would need to be on the street for at least some time, that would be a Curfew violation. Walking to the Lead would require the same. And asking for a male stranger's help in such a matter? I asked for the *best* option. He would have complete power over you, even if he agreed his terms would be undoubtedly strict." Another question follows. "Considering what we discussed regarding slavery, how common do you think self-admission to the Ministry of Improvements is on Torei?" (set: $PlayCheck to it + 1) [["Not common at all, it's really only for slaves."->IsQ3Fail]] [["Not common at all, it's too expensive for most Freewombs."->IsQ3Fail]] [["Very common. It's free."->IsQ3Fail]] [["Very common. It's a good way to help get a job, or a collar."->IsQ3Pass]]

"Close... but wrong." Isabella lifts a hand, as if to indicate the sky above. "You realized curfew is in effect, that's good. I did not mention it, but curfew shelters exist in areas far away from easy transport for just that sort of situation. To summon a carriage you would need to be on the street for at least some time, that would be a Curfew violation. Walking to the Lead would require the same. And asking for a male stranger's help in such a matter? I asked for the *best* option. He would have complete power over you, even if he agreed his terms would be undoubtedly strict." She presses the button on her remote, your collar (if: $Level is 3 or 4)[nipples] suddenly being subjected to a brief electric shock. Another lesson, and one Isabella doesn't comment on. Another question follows. "Considering what we discussed regarding slavery, how common do you think self-admission to the Ministry of Improvements is on Torei?" [["Not common at all, it's really only for slaves."->IsQ3Fail]] [["Not common at all, it's too expensive for most Freewombs."->IsQ3Fail]] [["Very common. It's free."->IsQ3Fail]] [["Very common. It's a good way to help get a job, or a collar."->IsQ3Pass]]

"Incorrect." She depresses the button on her remote, sending a sharp shock through your collar (if: $Level is 3 or 4)[and the device attached to your tits.] You stomp your feet in response, biting down a yell, unable to escape the sensation. Isabella only shakes her head. "You must do better then that. Now, as to the answer, the Ministry of Improvements is *not* free, but here on Torei the technology is good enough that many procedures are very inexpensive. It is very common for prospective slaves to improve themselves in pursuit of some particular collar, or for freewombs to seek a raise by first visting the Ministry. Even offworlders travel here for completely mundane surgeries that would be nearly impossible, or very expensive, elsewhere." Yet another question follows. "You mentioned being a... businesswoman, of sorts? Let us try another business question. You are meeting with a Torean woman to sign some sort of mutually beneficial deal. You're wearing that same outfit as before, the red one, and are meeting in your hotel room. How would you greet her?" [["Full reverence, she is signing a deal with me."->IsQ4Fail]] [["Without reverence, we are equals."->IsQ4Fail]] [["Without reverence, we are meeting in a private area."->IsQ4Fail]] [["I would perform a partial reverence."->IsQ4Pass]]

"Correct. The Ministry of Improvements is *not* free, but here on Torei the technology is good enough that many procedures are very inexpensive. It is very common for prospective slaves to improve themselves in pursuit of some particular collar, or for freewombs to seek a raise by first visting the Ministry. Even offworlders travel here for completely mundane surgeries that would be nearly impossible, or very expensive, elsewhere." Yet another question follows. "You mentioned being a... businesswoman, of sorts? Let us try another business question. You are meeting with a Torean woman to sign some sort of mutually beneficial deal. You're wearing that same outfit as before, the red one, and are meeting in your hotel room. How would you greet her?" (set: $PlayCheck to it + 1) [["Full reverence, she is signing a deal with me."->IsQ4Fail]] [["Without reverence, we are women, and equals."->IsQ4Fail]] [["Without reverence, we are meeting in a private area."->IsQ4Fail]] [["I would perform a partial reverence."->IsQ4Pass]]

Isabella shakes her head. "Wrong. You are women, and you are signing a mutually beneficial agreement. Thus a full reverence would be unnecessarily ceding the other woman power. Even though the setting is private, however, it is still a professional engagement. The proper greeting is thus a partial reverence. Skirt up, eyes down, very slight bow. If you're both particularly practiced, this should be performed at the same time." The remote in her hand is pressed, your collar (if: $Level is 3 or 4)[and breasts] coming alive with sudden electricty. She holds the button down, subjecting you to the punishment for a solid second. "Come on now." Then she licks her lips. "Last question: have I been a patient at the Ministry of Improvements?" Her smile tells you what your gut had already warned: this was a much more tricky question. She is certainly beautiful, that is clear: full chest, wide hips, inviting lips. You've seen her eyes are grey, and her hair is black. Those were hardly exotic options..." [["I... don't think I should answer that one."->IsQ5Pass]] [["Yes, your proportions are... perfect. Too perfect to be natural."->IsQ5Fail]] [["Yes, you're Torean after all."->IsQ5Fail]] [["No, you wouldn't ask if you weren't natural."->IsQ5Fail]] [["No, Toreans are known for their beauty."->IsQ5Fail]]

Isabella nods. "That is exactly it. You are women, and you are signing a mutally beneficial agreement. Thus a full reverence would be unnecessarily ceding the other woman power. Even though the setting is private, however, it is still a professional engagement. The proper greeting is thus a partial reverence. Skirt up, eyes down, very slight bow. If you're both particularly practiced, this should be performed at the same time." She licks her lips. "Last question: have I been a patient at the Ministry of Improvements?" Her smile tells you what your gut had already warned: this was a much more tricky question. She is certainly beautiful, that is clear: full chest, wide hips, inviting lips. You've seen her eyes are grey, and her hair is black. Those were hardly exotic options..." (set: $PlayCheck to it + 1) [["I... don't think I should answer that one."->IsQ5Pass]] [["Yes, your proportions are... perfect. Too perfect to be natural."->IsQ5Fail]] [["Yes, you're Torean after all."->IsQ5Fail]] [["No, you wouldn't ask if you weren't natural."->IsQ5Fail]] [["No, Toreans are known for their beauty."->IsQ5Fail]]

"*Good answer,*" she replies, having been clearly poised to use the remote in her hand savagely. "It doesn't matter what I look like, or that I am Torean born. It does not matter that the Ministry of Improvements is so readily used. Here, in Aekora, you do not ask a lady of any importance such a question. That is something reserved for slaves, or marriage contracts." She holds up a gloved hand, wriggling each of her five fingers. As promised, that had been five questions. (set: $PlayCheck to it + 1) "Let's see how you did, hm?" [["Sure."->IsQCheckFAIL]] [["Yes, Mistress."->IsQCheck]]

"*Wrong answer,*" she replies, holding up the remote in her hand with narrowed eyes. Pushing its lone button, the remote commands a harsh burst of electrict from your collar(if: $Level is 3 or 4)[ and pierced nipples], your yelp devolving into a low moan as she keeps the current coming for at least five seconds. By the time she lets off, the muscles in your neck are dreadfully sore(if: $Level is 3 or 4)[ and your heavy chest aches, the piercings you had been subjected to used so readily. In your frustration you shake your chest, the maneuver a bit lewd given the tight laminate of your outfit.] Isabella merely smiles, her momentary savagry evaporating. "Trick question. It doesn't matter what I look like, or that I am Torean born. It does not matter that the Ministry of Improvements is so readily used. Here, in Aekora, you do not ask a lady of any importance such a question. That is something reserved for slaves, or marriage contracts." She holds up a gloved hand, wriggling each of her five fingers. As promised, that had been five questions. "Let's see how you did, hm?" [["Sure."->IsQCheckFAIL]] [["Yes, Mistress."->IsQCheck]]

"Alright," she concludes. Rising, she removes (if: $Slave is true or $Blue is true)[the device from your collar](else:)[the shock collar from your throat](if: $Level is 3 or 4)[ as well as the shock clips from your nipples]. "Five questions asked, five questions answered. You got (print: $PlayCheck) of my questions correct. And I did promise 10 credits per correct answer, so you will have them." She tips her head to the side, retaking her seat along the way. "I hope this proved to be... a learning experience? Even without your memory situation, the way we educate offworlders is shameful. Each and every one of you should be taught how to perform a reverence, at the very least..." She waves a hand, dismissing the frustration. You sense its a long held one. "If you need anything else, I will be here." (set: $PlayE to true) She looks away, to the crowds passing by. (if: $PlayCheck is 1)[(set: $debt to it + 10)](if: $PlayCheck is 2)[(set: $debt to it + 20)](if: $PlayCheck is 3)[(set: $debt to it + 30)](if: $PlayCheck is 4)[(set: $debt to it + 40)](if: $PlayCheck is 5)[(set: $debt to it + 50)] [[A learning experience indeed.->Isabella Hub]]

Looking down, she flicks perhaps the barest hint of dust from her laminate outfit. Or perhaps its to hide the slight smile that forms? "My Freewomb train pass is in my name only. I cannot simply give it to you, nor would I particularly want to. As I said, I do not *do* charity. But..." She looks back up to you, now *clearly* smiling. "My train pass does allow for my taking along personal belongings. Two pieces of luggage," she pats the purse at her side, "...and a slave." Isabella watches your reaction intently. "I am traveling to downtown Grand Aekora anyway, and would allow you to complete whatever business you have in the city. But you would be doing so under a proper slave collar and term of service. After you complete whatever you intend to do in the city, you will serve out your service contract with me. Standard issue, in all respects. I've come to learn offworlders are best enslaved under such contracts, less paperwork. The shortest standard slave contract is for six weeks-- with extensions, of course, if necessary or desired." She runs a hand up through her hair. "I wouldn't just offer this to anyone, mind you. I have a soft spot for offworlders, sure... but I thought there might be something... the moment we passed in the hotel hallway. (if: $PlayE or $PlayP is true)[Playing with you only confirmed it.]" [["I could never do that!"->IsSlavePath Refuse]] [["What... what else can you tell me about this offer?"->IsSlavePathQ]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/yNfV45r.jpg" width="50%" height="50%"> Led through the neighborhood one last time, this trip is altogether different-- you do so on a leash, your newly minted Mistress leading you. She sets a harsh pace as well, despite the strictures of your slave suit, her steel-clad heels snapping sharply with every step. Reaching the Transport Platform she leads you up, then takes the lead dealing with the Transit attendant and Truant Officer manning the last checkpoint before the trains themselves. Where once you may have had to offer payment or negotiate with the Officer, now Isabella handles it all, even presenting your SLAVE-marked ID when prompted. "Remember to keep it on that leash," the Officer reminds your owner as together you're waved through. Again Isabella leads the way as you approach the sleek trains, boarding a car she chooses. The seats within are situated with tables between every two, forming small, intimate booths. Sliding into one, she forces you down with a sharp tug on your leash. "Slaves kneel, they rarely sit," she explains, crossing her legs beneath the table. It lends to the pensive posture she takes, leaning forward to examine you more closely. "Eyes down," she commands first, before continuing. "We need to discuss our business downtown." Outside, the train plunges off the platform, following the rails down beneath the city. [["Yes, Mistress."->Slave Train]]

"I understand," Isabella replies readily. "And that is, honestly, the expected response. But if you change your mind..." She shrugs. "Just ask me again." [[You're not ready for that, at all.->Isabella Hub]]

The seated Mistress' smile only widens. "I *knew* you're something special. As I said, this would be a standard contract, one that would keep you here on planet until it is dismissed. My family is quite wealthy, and I do live comfortably. So would you, by freewomb standards certainly. You can look up the details if you like, but in short: you would be *mine*. Your rights, your body, the work you do, even your dress-- those would be mine to decide. And let me be clear: I would not go easy on you, just because you're an offworlder. You would be a slave by *my* standards. *Torean* standards. I can tell you right now, at the very least, I would be taking you to the Ministry of Improvements." She gestures your way. (if: $Slave is true)[Speaking of your dress, I would keep you in the standardized gear you're wearing now. At least for a few weeks. It's a good learning experience, you would need to earn the *right* to a proper identity as a slave. After that... well, I have a very large wardrobe."](else:)[Speaking of dress, I would need a show of commitment before I did anything with you. That means getting you out of that oufit, and into something... properly slave like. The Aekoran Standardized Slave suit, to be precise. I expect you would have seen it in the hotel's wardrobe? It's a good learning experience to wear, and you would need to earn the *right* to a proper identity as my slave anyway. After that... well, I have a very large wardrobe."] [["I could never do that!"->IsSlavePath Refuse]] [["...you would take me to the Ministry of Improvements?"->IsSlavePathQ2]]

"Most slaves are improved eventually," she replies. "I'd have to consider the details, of course, but it would not be anything *too* substantial... at least at first. If we found the situation agreeable, and you renewed-- or were furthered through punishment clauses, though? I would have your proportions filled out a bit more. You're quite curvy for an offworlder, but this is Torei-- we have higher standards then whatever passes for acceptable beyond the Way Up. A set of Rainbow implants, of course. Eye and hair color adjustments, probably. And perhaps a Torean hormonal cycle, after some time. You think the feeling of laminate and bindings are overwhelming now? Just wait until you've got our sensitivity and libido." [["I could never do that!"->IsSlavePath Refuse]] [["That's... that's a lot..."->IsSlavePathQ3]]

"Yes it is." She makes no attempt to sugarcoat it. "But I think it might be something you're interested in, or you would not have asked so many questions about it..." (set: $debtShower to true) Her glossy shoulders shrug. "I want you to think about it. Roam around the area, speak to others, get different views of Torei. If this *really* interests you, (if: $Slave is true)[come back after awhile, and confirm your intention with me. I'll have your contract drawn up at the local Ministry of Wombs by then.](else:)[you need to tell me you want the full slave suit. And even then... if you get cold feet, I understand. The suit's timers will only be timed until we sign a contract, you can always walk away... if with a bit more bondage, for awhile.] [["I have a lot to think about...->Isabella Hub]]

She eyes you, clearly considering something weighty. Substantial. A long silence follows, before she seems to reach a conclusion. "If we play, if you learn pleasure and ettiquete as we discussed... then I will talk more about this. Not before." [["I understand."->Isabella Hub]]

For once she doesn't turn to regard you, instead watching the passersby. "You sure?" [["N-No."->Isabella Hub]] [["I'm sure."->GetSlave2]]

The words pass your lips, but there time seems to slow. Your memory may be shot full of holes, but the further back you go the clearer it is. Thousands of worlds are out there, billions of human beings. Going about their lives, perhaps traveling, certainly choosing to do as they willed. And you're about to reject that. Isabella had promised to let you finish your last deal, if you desired, but there would be no trimphant escape from Torei via the Way Up afterward. A contract would make your mere presence in the massive terminal at its base illegal-- slaves were strictly prohibited, you remember seeing a sign that declared that. Some in the position you're so close to had to have tried to run, then, for such a sign to even be necessary. It's not hard to imagine why they would try. A Torean slave did not have many rights. Isabella would keep you bound, in laminate. She would alter your body to suit her whims. And what if you resisted? You would be punished until you complied. "Here on Torei, certain things are still on laminate paper," she announces, breaking your revelry. In her hands she holds a glossy piece of thin-stamped laminate, as black as her outfit and your suit, line after line of white writing apparent upon it. "If you have any other questions before we do this, now would be the time. Or if you would like to do anything else by yourself, you should do that first. There is not going back." [["I do have questions."->SlaveHub]] [["I can't do this right now, let me think about this...->Isabella Hub]]

Her attention snaps to you immediately. "That's what I like to hear. Follow me." Rising in a flourish of black laminate, Isabella leads you around the corner of the raised transit platform, talking as she walks. "As we discussed, you're committing to nothing more then the suit at this time. You can always back out on our proposed contract until it is signed, remember that." A large opening leads down into an area excavated beneath, a sign over which reads *Pubic Facilities*. Those facilities turn out to be several bathrooms, one marked for Men, one for Freewombs, and one for Slaves-- alongside a row of Wardrobe Devices. Changing outfits after or just prior to a trip seems to be common. Isabella selects an open Wardrobe for you, using her own credentials to bring up a far more extensive catalog of options then you had seen at the Hotel. She pays a substantial fine for the early removal of your current outfit, the brief look at her account showing a *very* large balance. Meanwhile, a warning flashes in response to her selection of the standardized slave suit: *This is a standardized Slave-Rated Wardrobe outfit, as described in the Aekoran Slave Codes, Chapter 812, subsection 10. Wearing this uniform will subject all Slaves to High Protocol Laws as described in the Aekoran Slave Code, Chapter 679. Freewombs wearing this uniform will be subjected to portions of the Slave Code, and certain liberties may be revoked.* She dismisses it with a smile. "Ready?" [[Step in.->GetSlave3]]

You know the drill by this point, the arms the emerge once the door closes behind you almost like old friends. They grip your wrists, your ankles, and your throat as the machine truly revs up. The first step is a simple one, demonstrating the utility of the drain beneath you: a solvant dissolves your suit, your bindings, everything-- in a matter of seconds. Only metals or other installed compponents remain, but those are plucked by a pair of waiting arms as they fall to the floor. Recycling! The urge is there to close your eyes, as if ignorance could prevent what was about to occur. Is this *really* what you wanted? But your confidence holds, allowing you the only seat in the house as the show begins. Further mechanical arms and implements emerge, the largest being a ring wide enough that it barely fit the small room. It hovers above you, a far too large halo, waiting only for an attendant arm to strategically place your blonde hair before the device descends. Nozzles built into the ring emit a pungent substance as soon as it descends past the crown of your head. For a moment you think it paint, and it does adhere like the stuff, but the sensation is fleeting-- as following the emitters a white-light laser passes over the freshly applied material, and it flash-cools. What had been a thick spray is now a thin, slick, glossy material. Holes at your mouth, nose, and eyes are quickly excised. Cold upon your skin, but already your body is warming it up. Torei's all but sacred material, its most readily available substance: **laminate.** Thus your suit is quiet literally printed on, the base layer a solid midnight black. The ring descends bit by bit, rendering soft flesh into equally soft but so very *different* laminate. Secondary arms follow it down, providing spot treatment along seams and friction points-- although often the effect is for merely aesthetic purposes. Sometimes that takes the form of a second application of laminate, other times it lingers to produce something more substantial-- such as the zipper between your legs, the tiny metal components pre-formed and merely placed by the rapid-fire staccato movements of a particuarly agile mechanized arm. You're given no time to rest as the base layer concludes, the ring rapidly ascending as other arms move into the space to begin work on the most intensive component of your outfit: the corset. Several times the arms work along your midsection, printing in thick black material, before pre-forged strips of steel emerge. Those would be the bones that ensured a corset could trim the waist effectively, and once submerged into the thick material a final flash of light sets the material. Its not until synthetic lacing is carefully worked in a pattern through the holes along your back that the device actually begins to function, however. With every tug it grows tighter, never painful, but definitely uncomfortable. By the time the Wardrobe concludes, your chest is thrust out in response, while your back is straight and breathing takes some effort. [[And it only continues...->Get Slave 4B]]

No. One last accessory remains, having been listed on the original selection as... **inserts**. Adrenaline shoots through your system as the Wardrobe realigns itself again, this time positioning two large arms, one before your lower torso, the other just behind it. Long, thick cylinder-like forms begin to extrude from the arms, taking the shape of what you recognize quite immediately as masculine physiology. As they work, another more nimble arm presses forward, seizing upon the only zipper on your suit. A mathematically simple arc carries it down between your legs, exposing a set of holes matched so perfectly to the now fully formed dildos. Your body tenses as a syrup-like lubricant is applied to each. (set: $Slave to true)(set: $Blue to false)(set: $Smoke to false)(set: $Sec to false)(set: $Brand to false) [[Focus on your breathing.->GetSlave 5]]

No further warning is given. With sudden explosive action, the inserts drive forward. They find the waiting holes readily enough, then twist, as if screwing their way into your body. Despite yourself a moan escapes your ruby red (and masked) lips as you're pierced from both ends. They plunge further, and further-- your mind screams for an end, your body assures you it cannot take anymore. Yet it does. Still further, further, further... Until you're hilted on the ends, hips swaying minutely as you try fruitlessly to adapt to the sensation. It may be amusing in restrospect, if you ever allow yourself to remember this moment, how gentle the final arm is that pulls your zipper closed again. A small padlock on the end is almost an afterthought. Then, with a final flash of white light and a conclusive hiss, the armatures withdraw. You collapse to your knees, the short distance an altogether new experience as your inserts shift deep within your cunt and rear. Again you moan, this time frustrated with yourself as you try to focus, breathing hard against the stricture of your mask. It takes several minutes, but eventually you find yourself watching the tight, glossy material covering your chest gently rise and fall. Your posture is ensured by the corset, while also making each breath a bit of an effort, at least until your body adapted. The sensation of the laminate is almost otherwordly as well, light pressure upon your body from toe to head, a lover's embrace you cannot escape. Excepting the zipper between your legs (and that is locked), there is no point of entrance, no direct break in the experience. Only smooth laminate, and the labored sound of your own breathing. Running a hand down the slick material reveals laminate to laminate contact to be almost frictionless. It's almost too easy to forget your own hand as it glides along your thigh-- as a strong compulsion draws the limb inward, towards the nexus of your legs. You resist... for the moment. Instead you struggle back to your feet, biting your lip, pelvis thrusting slightly in reaction to the sensations within. Your heels do not help matters, the effect of being forced onto your toes one that will certainly take some effort to combat. (if: $Level is > 0)[It's then that the armatures return, one last brief experience as you're pulled back up into position. Did you think you were going to get our of your punishments from the hotel so easily? They're rebuilt in short order, your hobble chain(if: $Level is > 1)[ and armbinder] replaced by shiny black new ones. Only then are you release for the last time.] The Wardrobe's display flicks back into existence, a final sentence emerging upon it. *Your dressing order has now been completed. If this machine is functioning under slave protocols, you may be held until a legally recognized owner or agent arrives to collect you. Otherwise, the door will open shortly. Watch your step, and enjoy...* The doors open as promised, allowing you to shuffle awkwardly back out into the dim light of the far corridor. Isabella awaits expectantly. (set: $Status to 2) [[Make your way there.->Get Slave 6]]

She does not spare your body her hands, the black laminate of her gloves gliding so effortlessly over your own obsidian form as she examines every detail. Your breath catches in your throat, nearly choking you considering how little oxygen the mask seemed to allow, when her fingers glide momentarily between your legs. "I can barely tell its *you* in there," she declares, seemingly quite satisfied. "You're really going to struggle with that, I can tell already. Good." She steps back, if only to take you all in at once. Your new corset forces your chest out while emphasizing the curve from hip to waist, forming a silhouette as provacative as it is lewd. (if: $Level is 2)[The armbinder only furthers the effect(if: $Level is 3 or 4)[ while your pierced nipples are hidden only until light rolls across your chest, the steel nubs pressing against your laminate].] Isabella's hands collect together, she seems almost proud. "Well, there we are. As I promised, those locks you're wearing are time-sensative right now. You can walk back up that ramp and never see me again, if you like." Her red lips form into a smile. "But if you still want the contract... I want you to explore, talk to others nearby. Get different views of what Torei can be. And if you *still* want it... come back to me. We will take a walk to the nearest Ministry of Wombs office, then." You focus on your breathing as she leads you back to her bench, where she takes a seat, lighting up her electronic cigarette again. [[Your plugs shift within you.->Isabella Hub]]

The black laminate contract glistens beneath the sun... [["Are there any further terms I should know about?"]] [["Where would I be living?"]] [["Do you have any other slaves...?"]] [["What would my role be, as a slave?"]] [["I can't do this right now, let me think about this..."->Isabella Hub]] [["I don't have any further questions Let's finalize this."]]

"Well--" she replies, removing her glasses to look into your mask, meeting your gaze directly. "This is a standard slave contract, by Aekoran law. The same thing women in your position have been signing for... hundreds of years, although quite short by most measurements. Six weeks of guaranteed enslavement on your part. More, if you trigger punishment clauses. All the standard revoking of your personal liberties, as we discussed. Including your full body rights. My family's appendixes are applied as well, House Naram-Sin's lawyers always demand that. Those are straightforward-- if anything would happen to me, your slave contract would pass to the House trust unless my will specifies otherwise. If you were to have any children during your time in the collar-- impossible given your term of service, but I should mention it-- boys would be raised by my House. Girls would be enslaved upon reaching their majority." [[You nod, deep in thought...->SlaveHub]]

"I do," Isabella states simply. "By my family's standards, my estate is small, but I wouldn't be a full-blooded Naram-Sin without a few pieces of collared property. I have a carriage and two attendant ponygirls, a governess, and a soubrette. You would be my 5th." [[You're not the first, at least...->SlaveHub]]

Isabella's eyes narrow slightly. "I'm... not sure, yet. You would be my first offworlder, and you will need a period of training. That's why I intend to keep you in that standard uniform you're wearing right now, for a few weeks at least. Whatever I decide, it will be quite the change for you, I would imagine. The Torean household has had... centuries to adapt to the precence of slaves. There are many niche roles, and opportunities for one such as yourself. You will be no different then any other collared slut." [["Just another slave..."->SlaveHub]]

"My estate in Grand Aekora," Isabella replies readily. "Technically it's an apartment, but when its two stories tall and *really* spacious... I call it an estate. Oh, do you mean where within that? The slave quarters, of course. A cell at first, but I do allow some of my girls a bed." [["A cell..."->SlaveHub]]

"You're *sure?*" She looks to you, lips pulled into a tight line. "There is no going back after this. If you want more time to think about it, I would implore you to do so." [["I want this, Isabella."->SlaveCONFIRM]] [["Right, let me... think about this...->Isabella Hub]]

Behind her glasses, grey eyes shine with clear excitement. "Then we need only travel to the local Ministry of Wombs, a branch office isn't far." From her purse she pulls forth a length of laminate cord, one end formed into a simple loop, the other a steel shackle. It's the later she hooks to the waiting ring on the front of your collar, forming a leash she uses to guide you along. You walk the streets of Torei as a freewomb for the last time, leashed to a woman you barely knew, on your way towards enslavement. Even without your plugs pumping into your cunt with every step, everything that follows is something of a blur. Perhaps you should be taking it all end, but you find yourself focusing on Isabella herself. Her corset, the bow so primly done. Her ass, so full and glossy, as she walks. And the lingering scent of cinnamon, as sharp and heady as any proper intoxicant... The Ministry of Wombs indeed have a small branch office a few blocks away. You're left by the door alongside several other women, each of you leashed to a series of hooks provided for just that purpose. It takes some time, but eventually you're retrieved. Taken into a small room, you are forced to kneel, legs spread and eyes down. A Ministry employee takes your ID card, and then asks a series of simple questions. Afterward, with Isabella standing above you, hand on your laminate-covered head, the Ministry employee requests you repeat after her: "I enter into this contract of my own free will, without coercion, intimidation or threat of retaliation beyond that which is documented in the contract..." (set: $IsSlave to true)(set: $Slave to false) [["I enter into this contract of my own free will, without coercion, intimidation or threat of retaliation beyond that which is documented in the contract..."->SLAVE CONFIRM 2]]

SLAVE AND LEVEL 4 (set: $Slave to true)(set: $Level to 4) [[Transport Hub Intro]]

(set: $Strike to it +1) You set out along the Torean Streets, trying to ignore (if: $Slave is true)[the heady churn of your inserts,](if: $Blue is true)[the quiet clinking of your myriad cuffs,] (if: $Smoke is true)[the way every passerby can see so easily through your catsuit,] (if: $Brand is true)[the attention your suit's adverts and heels draw,] (if: $Sec is true)[the way your chest is presses so boldly against your laminate blouse,] (if: $Level is 2)[the pain in your shoulders from your strict arbminder,] (if: $Level is 3 or 4)[the sweet sensation of the metal piercing your nipples]. (if: $Strike is 2)[[[Your passage along the sidewalk is halted by a slowing in the crowd. Some sort of checkpoint awaits, ahead, without another means of passing. It takes some time for the queue before you to be processed, but as soon as you reach the front a harsh hand grabs you!->Truant Greet]]](if: $Strike is 4)[[[As you continue on your way, however, a voice suddenly calls out from behind. "Hey, you, girl!->Strike4Start]]](if: $Strike is 6)[[[Making your way along the sidewalk, something catches your eye...->Strike6Start]]](if: $Strike is 8)[[[Your walk is interrupted by the sight of a woman standing out from the crowd...->Strike8Start]]](if: $Strike is 10)[[[The path before you turns, and a small crowd confronts you...->Strike10Start]]](if: $Strike is 12)[[[As you continue on your way, something catches your eye...->Strike12Start]]](if: $Strike is 14)[[[Your path forward is blocked by a line, of sorts...->Strike14Start]]](if: $Strike is 16)[[[Suddenly you pause, an intriguing sight catching your eye...->Strike16Start]]](if: $Strike is 18)[[[Walking among your fellow freewombs, you find your eyes drifting...->Strike18Start]]](if: $Strike is 20)[[[As you make your way along the Torean streets, you get the strange sense of being followed...->Strike20Start]]] (if: $Strike is 1 or 3 or 5 or 7 or 9 or 11 or 13 or 15 or 17 or 19)[You continue on your way, towards... [[...what becomes a loop, returning to the area near the transit platform.->Street Hub]] (if: $Quinn is true and $TruantQFound is false)[[[Quinnette Way, on the hunt for the runaway slave.->Quinn Start]]] (if: $NunCheck is true)[[[Sister Euphoria, near the Convent->Nun Hub]]] (if: $IsabellaCheck is true)[[[Isabella, on her bench.->Isabella Hub]]] (if: $OffworlderCheck is true)[[[Michael, at his customary corner.->Offworlder Hub]]] (if: $TruantFound is true)[[[the Truant Officer.->Truant Hub]]]] (if: $Strike is > 20)[You continue on your way, towards... [[...what becomes a loop, returning to the area near the transit platform.->Street Hub]] (if: $Quinn is true and $TruantQFound is false)[[[Quinnette Way, on the hunt for the runaway slave.->Quinn Start]]] (if: $NunCheck is true)[[[Sister Euphoria, near the Convent->Nun Hub]]] (if: $IsabellaCheck is true)[[[Isabella, on her bench.->Isabella Hub]]] (if: $OffworlderCheck is true)[[[Michael, at his customary corner.->Offworlder Hub]]] (if: $TruantFound is true)[[[the Truant Officer.->Truant Hub]]]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/Iq1v84O.png" width="30%" height="30%"> Sister Euphoria kneels among the strange plantlife, hands clasped, red eyes closed in silent prayer. The muzzle across her lips hides the movement, but her lips must of parted as she speaks. "Yes(if: $Slave is true)[, Sister]?" (if: $NunEnd1 is true or $NunEnd2 is true)[Sister Dahlia kneels off to the side of the clearing, the white of her laminate bright despite the shadows that fall upon her.] You have: (print: $debt) Credits. (if: $TruantQuest is true and $TruantQuestEnd is false)[[["Could I ask you something about that runaway slave, Amadori?"->NunTruantQHub]]] (if: $Slave is true)[[["May I ask why you called me 'Sister'?"->AskSister]]] [["Can you tell me... more about your Convent?"->AskCon]] [["Can I ask about yourself? Euphoria cannot be your real name."->AskPers]] [["Can I make a donation to the Convent?"->DonateNun]] (if: $NunCon is false)[[["You mentioned... a program of Contemplation?"->NunContem]]] (if: $NunSens is false)[[["You mentioned... a program of Sensation?"->NunSens]]] (if: $NunCon is false or $NunSens is false)[[["You mentioned... a program of Revelation?"->RevelationNO]]](if: $NunCon is true and $NunSens is true)[[["I have completed Contemplation and Sensation, can we discuss Revelation now?"->NunRevelationYES]]] (if: $NunPath is true)[["I want to discuss the fourth program, Conversion."->NunRevelationFINAL]] (if: $NunPath is false)[[["You mentioned... four programs. Can I ask about the fourth?"->ConvertNO]]] [["You wouldn't have a Train Pass by chance, would you?"->TrainAskNO]] (if: $NunPick is false and $NunHave is false)[[["You mentioned needing help with some other sort of task?"->PickupTalk]]] (if: $NunEnd1 is true or $NunEnd2 is true)[[[Approach Sister Dahlia.->Dahlia Hub]]] (if: $Donate is true and $DonateEuphoria is false and $DonateEnd is false)[[["Sister Euphoria, would you by chance like to make a donation to the Liberty Society?->DonateEuphoria]]] [[For now you exit the garden, looking elsewhere for help.->TransitChecktoHub]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/lXSBXLs.png"> Michael breaks from his hawking of pamphlets, standing tall as he spots you on approach towards his corner. You have (print: $debt) credits. (if: $TruantQuest is true and $TruantEnd is false)[[["I've seen some posters about a runaway, Amadori. Could I ask you some questions about that?"->OffTruantQ]]] (if: $Level is 3 or 4)[[["Can we talk about... my nipple piercings?"->OffNip]]](if: $Level is 2)[[["Can we talk about getting this damned armbinder off?"->OffArm]]](if: $Level is 1)[[["I've only got this hobble chain... could you remove that?"->OffHobble]]] (if: $debtSec is false)[[["How about that interview for 25 credits?"->OffInterview]]] (if: $debtSlave is false)[[["You're really offering 100 credits for a few pictures? What's the catch?"->OffPhoto]]] (if: $Donate is false)[[["Donation collection? I could do that."->OffDonate]]](if: $Donate is true and $DonateTrans is false)[[["I think I'm all done with collecting those donations, Michael."->OffDonateFail]]](if: $Donate is true and $DonateTrans is true and $DonateEnd is false)[[["Hey, I think I'm all ready to turn in those donations I've been collecting."->OffDonateEnd]]] (if: $Slave is true)[[["With everything you offer... can do you anything about this suit I'm wearing?"->OffRemoveSuit]]] [["Can I ask a question? You're not at all... distracted, by the way we all dress here?"->OffAsk]] [["Any way you could get me a train pass?"->OffAskPass]] [[For now you step away, looking elsewhere for help.->TransitChecktoHub]]

Given the intended production of a full scale regulation mask, the promised makeup is applied next. Mechanical arms seize your head, holding it tight as nozzles approach your face. A quick blast of air instinctively causes your eyes to close, and in that brief moment the Wardrobe does its work. Your eyelids have been darkened and your eyelashes extended, producing an alluring effect. And your lips are now a bright red coloration, an interesting detail given what comes next. That would be your mask, listed for *breath regulation*. You already have been provided with a thin hood much akin to the rest of your catsuit, but this secondary mask is much thicker, several armatures working together to forge it upon your face. A handful of metal components are integrated as well, but your field of vision had already been restricted enough that you barely notice. Indeed, before you know it a curved glass panel is being placed just before your eyes, the laminate seals along the edge flash-cooling. Your next breath, the first within your new enclosed environment, is thus harder. *Much* harder. You gasp, trying to suck in enough oxygen-- only for your corset's constriction to assert itself. It's a devious combination, one you would have almost certainly cursed had not the machine (and thus your own focus) already shifted elsewhere. Several attending arms move back up to your throat, casting thick laminate in yet another layer until several steel segments (much like those trimming your waist) are sunk into the material. The Wardrobe was ensuring your head remained up, but you're hit with the immediate sensation that was no longer necessary-- the collar would ensure your posture going forward. Yet another componenent of your outfit comes with the sensation of your own feet rising, the sensation unequal and primarily at your heel. Without the restraint arms you would have toppled over, but they hold you tight, tall stilleto heels and a thick platform for your toes being extruded into place. Black laminate follows, coating your feet and providing the anchor on which laces are quickly assembled. [[You're becoming something else... is it over?->Get Slave 4]]

The words slip from your mouth so readily, any trepidation you may have held is left behind. *This* was the real promise of Torei. Not its medical advances, or the credits that could be earned from some technology deal. No-- the magic of Torei came from how easy this all was. To be on your knees, in laminate from head to toe, giving away your rights word by word... It ends with a congratulations from the employee, who returns your ID card before leaving. *Freewomb* is still visible along the top, but over the red letters in bold black print something new has been stamped: **SLAVE.** Reaching down, Isabella snaps a small silvered pendant to your collar, the laser engraving upon it reading *Property of Isabella Naram-Sin.* Taking your leash again, she guides you to your feet. "Come on," she smiles, casually pressing her palm between your legs-- inducing a moan from you as your plugs tease your wet cunt so readily. "We have a train to catch." (set: $Status to 3) [["Yes, Mistress."->IsSlaveEND]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/eYFZt2O.jpg" width="45%" height="45%"> You find Truant Officer Nikaido where she had promised to be, near her patrol car. The checkpoint you had seen earlier has apparently been dismantled, and she alone waits, leaning against her vehicle with crossed arms. (if: $TruantQuest is false)["Took you long enough."](if: $TruantQuest is true)["What do you want, freewomb?"] (if: $TruantQuest is false)[[["Can I ask you something?"->TruantAskNo]] [["Okay, you... had a job offer for me?"->TruantQuestExplain]]] (if: $TruantQuest is true)[[["Could I ask you a few things about your Ministry?"->AskTruantMin]] (if: $TruantQuestEnd is false)[["I need to discuss the runaway slave, Amadori.->TruantQuestHub]] (if: $NunPick is true and $NunPaidFine is false)[[["I was hoping you could a small fine waived, for a Sister I know...->TruantNun]]] (if: $DonateTruant is false and $DonateEnd is false and $Donate is true)[["Um, is there... any chance you would like to donate to the Liberty Society?"->TruantDonate]]] [["Actually... I don't need anything right now."->TransitChecktoHub]]

You emerge from your most recent encounter, so many thoughts still on your mind. The memory loss, the black card and its deal, your ticket off this planet... and of course the slick sensation of your laminate, glistening with every step. It's a heady combination, and soon you realize your time spent with your thoughts has compromised your sense of direction. You're lost, with only the Transport Platform's looming presence to guide you. Returning to the streets near it will let you set out again, if you like. [[The streets are tight, the buildings high. It's so easy to get turned around.->Street Hub]]

Your greeting catches his attention immediately, perhaps the first attempt by someone *else* to initiate a conversation in some time. Turning to you, his eyes cast quickly over your laminate body-- appraising your intentions, but for once not lewdly staring. "Good day!" He replies, beckoning you to come closer. You can see a backpack resting against the wall nearby. "Offworlder, right? Please do not be alarmed, I am very much *not* Torean. I'm not sure how long you've been on this planet, ma'am, or what you've been subjected to... but I can assure you, I am one of the few men on this planet who will not take advantage of your situation. The Liberty Society is here to help." [["Liberty Society?"->Offworlder Greet 3]]

Breaking into the clear between the man and those passing by, you give him a proper Torean greeting. (if: $Sec is true)[(if: $Level is 1)[Eyes down, you grab the bottom of your skirt, pulling it up. Your slit is briefly exposed as you bend your knees, performing something akin to a curtsy as his eyes widen. Holding the pose for a long moment, you smooth your skirt back down afterwards.]](if: $Brand is true or $Smoke is true or $Blue is true)[(if: $Level is 1)[Eyes down, you grab hold of your zipper, performing a smooth bow as you expose your slit to him briefly.]](if: $Slave is true)[(if: $Level is 1)[Eyes down, you kneel before him, folding your arms behind your back in due deferance.]](if: $Slave is true or $Brand is true or $Smoke is true or $Blue is true or $Sec is true)[(if: $Level is > 1)[Eyes down, you kneel before him, spreading your legs and pushing your hips forward, unable to do much else given your armbinder.]] "A reverence..." he seems to bite down on a comment, instead waving for you to abandon the posture. "Please, please-- that is not necessary. Unwanted, even. Offworlder, right? Please do not think you need to practice such abhorent customs in my presence, I am very much *not* Torean. I'm not sure how long you've been on this planet, ma'am, or what you've been subjected to... but I can assure you, I am one of the few men on this planet who will not take advantage of your situation. The Liberty Society is here to help. [["Liberty Society?"->Offworlder Greet 3]]

It's hard to ignore how naturally tall he is, despite your heels helping the situation somewhat. (if: $Level is 1)[With your hobble chain, you couldn't escape him if you wanted.](if: $Level is > 1)[In your armbinder and hobble chain, he's just naturally masculine enough to do anything he wished with you.](if: $Sec is true)[And standing next to him, you feel for the first time just how feminine your laminate skirt and blouse are.] Michael doesn't seem to notice your staring, but nods enthusiastically. "The Liberty Society, yes! We are a coalition of individuals, interest groups, and corporate donors who all share a deep concern for the women of Torei-- both those born to the planet, and Offworlders like yourself! You're a prime example of our cause, in fact!" [["I'm an example?"->Offworlder Greet 4]]

"Very much so!" Michael asserts. You're getting the sense that he is just naturally this energetic. "You're an offworlder, as I said, right? I can tell... at least, for awhile. After a few years, after you've been forced through the Ministry of Improvements, after so many lessons and punishments and tribulations... you will change. Become Torean in thought. You're already Torean in dress. What is your situation?" You tell him-- a *bit*. Yes, you're an offworlder here on business. No, you haven't been on the planet for long. And... yes, you did not exactly have a choice in everything you're wearing. "I hope I will not offend you ma'am," he continues, "but do you understand how your situation looks, to us in the Society? You're young, vibrant, a sharp eyed prospector on the fringes of know space. An adventurer... who has become a victim of your own gender, captured by this planet and its culture." He sweeps an arm down, indicating you in one bold movement. "(if: $Blue is true)[Forced to give up your modesty, your body sealed into tight blue laminate. Made into a creature of fetish and desire, being ruled by sex. You're exposed-- and so nearly defenseless, ma'am. A proud woman like you, consigned to wear a collar like some sort of pet? A belt, cuffs so that you can be restrained?] (if: $Smoke is true)[Forced to give up your modesty, your body sealed into tight laminate through which anyone can see so readily! You've been made into a creature of fetish and desire, being ruled by sex. You're exposed-- and so nearly defenseless, ma'am. A proud woman like you, consigned to wear a body harness, cuffs on your thighs like some sort of pet, ready to be restrained?] (if: $Brand is true)[Forced to give up your modesty, your body sealed into tight laminate that *advertises* your submission so blatantly! Whatever you were before, you have been transformed into a creature of fetish and desire, ruled entirey by sex. You're exposed-- and so nearly defenseless, ma'am. A proud woman like you, consigned to remain on your toes for hours at a time? To be corseted? To have the name of slavers, this world's rich, branded upon your body?] (if: $Sec is true)[Forced to give up your modesty, your body sealed into tight laminate, a mockery of proper professional attire. You're not ready for the workplace, no, you've been made into a creature of fetish and desire, ruled entirely by sex. You're exposed-- and so nearly defenseless, ma'am. Look at your skirt, the way you're perched on such shoes! The expectation, and everyone knows it, is that you spend at least part of your days on your knees... are you proud of that?] (if: $Slave is true)[Forced to give up your modesty, your body sealed in tight laminate. And that's not any oridinary outfit, ma'am. I'm sure you *know* what it means to wear that particular standardized set. Being treated as property, more then a proud woman? To have something as simple as breathing regulated, forced into corsetry, and of course those inserts... I understand it's a terrible experience.]" And of course, you're hobbled. "(if: $Level is > 1)[Forced to wear an armbinder as well, unable to resist anything that is done to you, arms most certainly aching.](if: $Level is > 2)[ I see you've even had your nipples pierced... a small, but profound 'improvement', by Torean standards.]" He shakes his head. "But... there must be something the Society can do for you?" [["There is, actually..."->Offworlder Greet 5]]

You explain more of your situation, at least regarding your battered memory and desire to get into Grand Aekora proper. A desire that would greatly helped by a financial contribution. The male seems empathetic, but his smile turns a bit strained. "Getting downtown is a good idea, a high speed rail line can take you from there to the Way Up in a matter of moments. Then you can ascend, and leave behind this planet." Michael shifts on his feet. "But... the Liberty Society is primarily concerned with generating awareness. We do not have the resources to provide assistance to *every* freewomb, or slave, who comes to us. We triage cases, and some that we deal with are... nevermind." [["Then what can you do?"->Offworlder Greet 6]] [["That's not helpful at all."->Offworlder Greet 6]]

"I can still help!" Michael asserts, raising both hands. "While I cannot address the *exact* details of your situation, the Liberty Society does have several programs that could interest you." (if: $Level is 3 or 4)["Perhaps most immediately, we do provide financial assistance for the early removal of debt-related... adjustments, made to any woman. Your nipple piercings, ma'am, would qualify. Given their permanence, they would have to be our first concern. Followed by your armbinder, and then that hobble chain. Were it up to us this would be provided free of charge, our donations covering the early-release fees... but Torean law does not allow debt assumption of that sort. You will need to pay for a *portion* of the cost yourself. But it's very small! 50 credits for your, ah, chest-- 50 more to have your arms released, and a final 50 for the hobble chain!"](if: $Level is 2)["Perhaps most immediately, we do provide financial assistance for the early removal of debt-related... adjustments, made to any woman. Your armbinder would qualify, at least. That hobble chain too, but the armbinder would need to be first. Were it up to us this would be provided free of charge, our donations covering the early-release fees... but Torean law does not allow debt assumption of that sort. You will need to pay for a *portion* of the cost yourself. But it's very small! 50 credits to have your arms released, and then another 50 for the hobble!"](if: $Level is 1)["Perhaps most immediately, we do provide financial assistance for the early removal of debt-related... adjustments, made to any woman. Like your hobble chain. Were it up to us this would be provided free of charge, our donations covering the early-release fees... but Torean law does not allow debt assumption of that sort. You will need to pay for a *portion* of the cost yourself. But it's very small! Only 50 credits."] The man rests his hands on his hips. "I could certainly provide financial assistance from my small personal stipend, if you were willing to help with some of our awareness campaigns-- there are three opportunities right there! First, we're collecting interviews from freewombs such as yourself who are living on this planet. I'd give you 25 credits for that. Second, we're collecting pictures as well-- although given the nature of those I could pay quite a bit more... say 100 credits? And there is one more, although it requires a bit of walking... and you are in those heels. Are those comfortable? Nevermind. What it entails, anyway, is asking for donations from anyone of importance around here. You would be given another 100 credits for that." He rubs his hands together. "So-- what can I do for you?" [[Opportunities about!->Offworlder Hub]]

For a moment, he looks to your chest, but quickly draws his gaze back up to meet your eyes. "I'm deeply sorry you had to undergo the application of such things," Michael commiserates. He sounds quite genuine. "If you're capable of paying that small 50 credit fee, I can get those removed for you. And even if you don't have the credits right now, I want you to know there is no shame in being outfitted with... *them.* On Torei, it's a very common thing for women-- slaves and Freewombs alike-- to eventually be *improved*, as a Torean would declare, in such a way. And as things go, they're... relatively minor. The Society has helped-- if you will excuse my using the Torean term-- *painslut* with far more then what you're enduring." [["I don't have that many credits. Perhaps we can explore this later.->Offworlder Hub]] (if: $debt is >= 50)[[["I've got 50 credits right here. I want them out!"->RemoveNip2]]]

Michael nods, rubbing his hands together. "Absolutely. With outfits, we generally have to go to a wardrobe to have something removed. But accessories? I can cut that off you in just a few moments. I bet that would feel *quite* good, huh? That looks to be a particularly strict one, I cannot imagine how your shoulders must be feeling. I hope no one has tried to take advantage of you either, with your arms pinned like that it's so hard to do *anything.*" Going to his backpack, he returns with a particularly heavy-duty looking set of shears. "You will still need to pay that 50 credit fee, of course." [["I don't have that many credits. Perhaps we can explore this later.->Offworlder Hub]] (if: $debt is >= 50)[[["I've got 50 credits right here. Get this thing off of me!"->RemoveArm2]]]

His enthusiasm for the topic is immediate. "Ah, so you're interested in the interview? Great! Or perhaps you're justing looking for more details? Well-- the Society publishes a quarterly report on our work here, planetside. Mission goals and achievements, financial spending, that sort of thing. But we also have a section reserved for what we call *the voices of Torei*. Testamonies from the Torean-born, or freewombs like yourself. Anyone who has been subjected to the horrors of Torean culture! Wait here." Moving to his backpack, he pulls forth a small recording device and a datapad of some sort. Tapping a button, he peforms a quick microphone check, the machine repeating his words with a second press. Clearly working as intended, he approaches you again. "So, let me explain how this works-- it's really simple. I will ask you a few questions, and you will answer the questions truthfully. And I mean that-- don't say what you think the Society wants to hear, speak from your heart. That's important, we categorize every *voice* added to our archives based on their views, I can tell you where you will be placed afterward." He smiles, awfully handsome in the afternoon light. "So-- how does that sound? Pretty easy, right? And then you will get your 25 credits. I only wish I was authorized to give you more." [["Is this anonymous? Will my name be attached, I mean?"->OffInterviewPreQ]] [["This sounds like something I can do. Give me the first question."->OffInterviewQ1]] [["I'll have to rethink this, Michael. Maybe later."->Offworlder Hub]]

"No catch!" Michael assures you, but you can read something else in his eyes. A *'but'* was coming, and it doesn't take long. "But we're aware it's a substantial enough sum. There is a reason for that." He pulls at his jacket's collar a bit, obviously uncomfortable. "The photoshoot is supposed to generate awareness for slaves and freewombs, and the bondage you undergo here. But the local authorities are, obviously, resistant to our activities. It is not what we would prefer, but we have managed to achieve a compromise of sorts: they allow us to operate if we ensure our photoshoots and the like show *real* Torean scenarios. That means no actors, nothing staged. We've... acquired the services of a Governess, and just need volunteers to undergo her work for-- just until the photoshoot is completed!" He gives you an apologetic look. "Obviously, it can be difficult to find freewombs who are willing to become the face of Torei for hundreds of worlds, ma'am.(if: $Slave is true)[ Your mask would hide your identity somewhat, of course, but your name would still be included.] Thus the 100 credits if you help our cause." [["I've had enough bondage, and I don't need your money that bad. No thank you."->Offworlder Hub]] [["I'm willing to do it, regardless."->OffPhoto 2]]

Your fellow offworlder raises a hand to his chin, apparently considering your offer. He doesn't consider long. "Yeah, I think you can. Alright, here is how this works. All you need to do is use your natural charm--" he pauses, eyeing your full laminate ensemble. "I mean *talk* to people, and ask for donations to the Society. Usually it works best if you have a personal connection with someone, you know, that you've done something else with them before. So try that, explore a bit, see you can approach." He takes you by the shoulder, a raised hand directed over the nearest rooftop. In the distance the Transport Platform looms over most everything else in the district. "Then there is one other spot I'd want you to hit. Up on the Platform we have a permit for a small stand, for marketing or education or whatever we like. Today it will be donation collection, with you heading it. The literature and the signs mostly sell the idea themselves, but if anyone has any questions just encourage them to contact our hotline. Sound good? At the end, you come back to me, and you get a cut of whatever you collected. Call it an incentive for good work!" [["Sounds easy enough, I'm in."->OffDonateYes]] [["Actually... let me think about it. Maybe later."->Offworlder Hub]]

He looks over your enclosure suit with more empathy then desire, despite the way it demonstrates your every curve-- for any curious onlooker. "That suit you're wearing... it's a travesty, I must say that first. Between inventive Masters and the Ministry of Improvements, *much* worse fates can be found here on Torei, but there is something to be said for the ubiquity and effectiveness of your particular uniform. It's designed to remove your identity, to make you just another black masked *doll*. To have you focus on your body, your breath, your... desire, and not much else." You have to agree with the effectiveness. Were you given a bit of privacy, you're not sure if you could have resisted grinding your plugged cunt against the nearest solid thing. Even then, in public like this, you find yourself constantly shifting your hips. It's a lingering symptom Michael notices as well, but he only shakes his head slightly. "I can get you out of it early-- but there are... complications. The first being cost. The Society can pay for your early emancipation, but Aekoran law requires that you pay an attendant fine yourself-- it's *clearly* designed to make just this sort of thing more difficult. 200 Credits is not easy to scrape together, not for a slave suited woman. But if you bring me that, I can take you to a wardrobe and get you changed in something... still laminate, but as professional as can be managed. Skirt, blouse, heels... you're a woman on Torei, you best get used to heels." [["I don't have that many credits. Perhaps we can explore this later.->Offworlder Hub]] (if: $debt is >= 200)[[["I've gotten my hands on the 200 credits. I want out of this suit!"->RemoveSuit2]]]

"Of course I am," Michael replies, any hint of mirth you may have suspected not surfacing. "I would have to be blind not to... I mean, look around you. Look at yourself. It is... very distracting." He looks out towards the other women walking past, a riot of colors and gloss. "It would be so easy... you girls are all but *required* to give me whatever I desire. The way it's expected that you perform reverence, the opportunities that come every night as your curfew starts... it's why the Society focuses on women exclusively. Torei is not easy on you." The taller man sighs a bit, shaking off the malaise with a spirited display of focus. "I manage by keeping myself seperate. No laminate whatsoever, even if finding laundry for textiles is... difficult. And I focus on our mission. The Ministry of Truants is..." He smiles, looking away. "Let's talk about something else." [["Sure..."->Offworlder Hub]]

Michael works a hand along the collar of his jacket, adjusting it slightly. "As I'm sure you're aware, such a pass is not required of me. I arrived here by train, in fact. We of the Society refuse to patronize the carriages, and our cause is so much more necessary here-- a bit further from the Way Up. I'd love to try again in the Antipodes, but if you think the cause is difficult here-- imagine Ringdoms with archaic technology, where Offworlders are so rare they don't even think to *question* slavery..." Clearly its unthinkable to the man, and he brushes off any attempt to discuss the matter further. Besides, he hadn't exactly answered your question. "A pass, though. I do have one, but it's reserved for someone else. That's all I can say about it." [[He's quite intent on that last point.->Offworlder Hub]]

"Really?" He responds, somewhat incredulously. "I mean... excellent! That's great! Please, follow me. I'm sure you're eager to get out of that thing." (set: $Slave to false)(set: $Sec to true)(set: $debt to it - 200)(set: $TruantQuestPamph to true) You don't have to travel far-- Michael leads you down a nearby alley and through a door within. You enter into what appears to be an office space of some sort, subdivided and rented out. The Liberty Society's section is small, and currently deserted, but packed with supplies-- you get the clear impression Michael isn't its only member operating on Grand Aekora's outskirts. Passing by several boxes of pamphlets much like the ones your escort had been handing out, you notice one of a different style, the name *Convent of Perception* written in stark letters along the top. Your attention turns towards the back of the domicile, however, where a familiar device awaits-- a wardrobe, this one appearing to be mobile. Michael works the control panel as you step up, the door gliding open before you. Within, a dozen different armatures await. [[Step forward.->Remove Suit 3]]

You're seized as soon as you enter, the door snapping shut behind. Much like the hotel's Wardrobe, this one has a drain in the bottom of the unit, its use revealed by the first stage of your re-dressing-- the removal. Instead of peeling the laminate from your body, a simple solvant is applied by a spraying arm, and in mere moments the material is dripping off your body like so much wet paint. Removing your plugs is a different matter-- that requires a pair of arms to seize them directly, but as you squirm in your restraints they're pulled free from your tortured cunt. You take a deep breath, the first in some time, as you are no longer masked. A brief, tantalizing taste of nudity follows... but not for long. With a fresh whirl, the Wardrobe begins working on your new outfit as a ring descends from above. Thus your outfit is quiet literally printed on, first applying bright white but transitioning to an equally vibrant shade of red as it passes your waist and forms a stylish pencil skirt. The ring descending bit by bit, rendering soft flesh into equally soft but so very *different* laminate. Secondary arms follow it down, providing spot treatment along seams and friction points-- although often the effect is for merely aesthetic purposes. Sometimes that takes the form of a second application of laminate, other times it lingers to produce something more substantial-- such as the small folded collar just beneath your chin, or the buttons that almost immediately strain to keep your bust constained by your bodice. You're given no time to rest as the base layer concludes, the ring rapidly ascending as other arms move into the space to begin work on your accessories. The peplum skirt you saw pictured is thus formed, starting with the belt at your waist. Small pre-forged rivets are sunk into the still molton laminate before it is sealed, as is the belt loop that is seated directly over your naval. Still held in place, small arms flair the laminate that extends over your rear, achieving the look most of the galaxy would label as *slutty* but Torei saw as merely coquettish. The final componenent of your outfit comes with the sensation of your own feet rising, the sensation unequal and focused primarily at your heel. Without the restraint arms you would have toppled over, but they hold you tight, tall heels being extruded into place. More red laminate follows, coating your feet excepting the stylish hole at the very front. Almost as an afterthought, makeup is applied last. Mechanical arms seize your head, holding it tight as nozzles approach your face. A quick blast of air instinctively causes your eyes to close, and in that brief moment the Wardrobe does its work. Your eyelids have been darkened, a crimson secondary coat added that flashed only when light slid across it. Pores and blemishes have been rendered impotent as well, while your cheekbones have been highlighted. And your lips are now a poignant, inviting red. (if: $Level is > 0)[The only remaining step is the reapplication of your bondage, the hobble chain at your ankles (if: $Level is > 1)[and armbinder behind you] being quickly build back up.] Then, with a final flash of white light and a conclusive hiss, the armatures withdraw. [[You emerge.->Remove Suit 4]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/mEoSzB3.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> (set: $Status to 1) You step back out of the wardrobe, utterly transformed. Once more you're allowed to breathe freely, regulation no longer being applied by mask and corset. You've also been liberated from the consistent teasing of the infernal plugs, although curiously your tortured womanhood almost seems to ache from their absence. Most importantly, though, you will no longer be recognized as little better then a slave-- the outfit you're now wearing instead at least approaches the Torean definition of *professional.* It's a change that Michael clearly approves of immediately, a fact he demonstrates by giving you an enthusiastic thumbs up. "Very good! I wish we had more offworld textiles to give you, I know, but this will have to do. I'm sure I don't have to remind you, but... do watch how you sit, ma'am. That outfit does not come with panties." He gestures for you to follow, and leads you back out into the alley, and then the street beyond. His corner is much as you had left it, except for the half-circle of passersby avoiding Michael's attempts to speak with them-- something he is quick to reconstitute, returning to his job. [[It feels good to feel the wind in your hair again.->Offworlder Hub]]

Michael nods, rubbing his hands together. "Absolutely. With outfits, we generally have to go to a wardrobe to have something removed. But accessories? I can cut that off you in just a few moments. I bet that would feel *quite* good, huh? Having every step restricted like that, I would imagine it must be easy to fall over. And forget about running, or anything else that requires more then walking speed." Going to his backpack, he returns with a particularly heavy-duty looking set of shears. "You will still need to pay that 50 credit fee, of course." [["I don't have that many credits. Perhaps we can explore this later.->Offworlder Hub]] (if: $debt is >= 50)[[["I've got 50 credits right here. Get this thing off of me!"->RemoveHobble2]]]

As promised, the shears make short work of your armbinder. Starting just behind your left shoulder, he slides the blade beneath the laminate, then works it upward. The muscles and tendons that are freed from the enforced position behind your back nearly spasm from the sudden liberty, but already you can feel the harsh ache in your arms finally peak and begin to start coming down. (set: $Level to 1)(set: $debt to it - 50) Michael is all smiles, as he tosses the laminant remains in a nearby recycling chute. "Great! Remember-- we can address that hobble chain now, if you have another 50 credits. If not, don't worry, I'll be here all day." [[You work one of your arms in a slow circle. Damn, that feels good.->Offworlder Hub]]

It takes a bit of effort on Michael's part, but with a sudden snap he manages to cut through the laminate cord strung between your legs. Removing the rest of the components is simple enough, and after a few more precise cuts the last bits fall away. Michael disposes of them in a nearby recycling bin and you, for the first time in awhile, stretch your legs. (set: $Level to 0)(set: $debt to it - 50) "Happy to be of service, ma'am." Michael smiles, returning to his pamphlets. "Let me know if you need anything else from me, or the Liberty Society." [[If you could just find some regular clothes, you would be wholly free of Torean influence.->Offworlder Hub]]

"Great, great!" He claps his hands together. "We can't do that here, though, not with your laminate in the way like that. This is will require a Wardrobe device, but we have one nearby. Please-- follow me." (set: $debt to it - 50)(set: $Level to 2)(set: $TruantQuestPamph to true) You don't have to travel far-- Michael leads you down a nearby alley and through a door within. You enter into what appears to be an office space of some sort, subdivided and rented out. The Liberty Society's section is small, and currently deserted, but packed with supplies-- you get the clear impression Michael isn't its only member operating on Grand Aekora's outskirts. Passing by several boxes of pamphlets much like the ones your escort had been handing out, you notice one of a different style, the name *Convent of Perception* written in stark letters along the top. Your attention turns towards the back of the domicile, however, where a familiar device awaits-- a wardrobe, this one appearing to be mobile. Michael works the control panel as you step up, the door gliding open before you. Within, a dozen different armatures await. [[Step forward.->RemoveNip3]]

The Wardrobe Device may be mobile, but it's just as effective as the one you endured in the hotel. The laminate clinging to your chest is removed by a solvant that precisely dissolves the material, momentarily leaving you topless as lasers cut the steel embedded in your chest. A healing solution is applied afterward, intended to repair your nipples now that they're no longer studded. Beyond that, you merely must wait for the suit to reproduce the laminate across your chest-- and you're free, emerging to Michael waiting expectantly. Again he looks to your chest, only to think better of it. "Everything is... good?" He asks, glancing away. "If so, we can make our way back up. And... maybe discuss getting that armbinder off of you? That's an option now." [["Everything *is* good. Let's go."->Offworlder Hub]]

"Ah," he replies, nodding. "I understand your concern-- it certainly cannot be dignifying to speak publically about what you have undergone. This *is* a public statement, however, with your identity made clear. If you perfer we not do this, I would of course understand." [["No, I'm fine with this. As your first question."->OffInterviewQ1]] [["On second thought, I'm not sure I want to do this."->Offworlder Hub]]

"Excellent, just... excellent! Alright! Please remember: do not be afraid to answer these questions truthfully. Our data is greatly improved by answers that speak to your true views, and our supports abroad prefer those as well. Okay? Here we go." (set: $debtSec to true) He looks to the datapad, holding the microphone in the space between you and him. "This first one is very easy: Torei is perhaps best known for the widespread use of *laminate*. Given that you are wearing the material right now, what are your thoughts on it?" (set: $PlayCheck to 0)(set: $ring to 0) (link: "If I could wear anything else, I would. I hate it.")[(set: $PlayCheck to it - 1)(set: $ring to it - 1)(goto: "Interview2")] (link: "It's not something I would recommend, but... it's not as bad as I expected.")[(set: $ring to it - 1)(goto: "Interview2")] (link: "I think... I like it.")[(set: $PlayCheck to it + 1)(goto: "Interview2")] (link: "It's so tight and glossy, I... feel empowered by it.")[(set: $PlayCheck to it + 1)(goto: "Interview2")] (link: "I love how it puts me on display, how I'm not allowed anything else.")[(set: $PlayCheck to it + 1)(set: $ring to it + 1)(goto: "Interview2")]

"Good, alright-- another question: prior to this interview, you mentioned having been in rather intensive bondage. Physical restraint is another common facet of Torean culture-- how do you feel about that?" (link: "I feel like every other sane person: that it's a terrible thing to inflict upon a person.")[(set: $PlayCheck to it - 1)(set: $ring to it - 1)(goto: "Interview3")] (link: "Honestly, I try to avoid it at all times. But it's just something we have to put up with here, as women.")[(set: $ring to it - 1)(goto: "Interview3")] (link: "I hate it... and I... I like the feeling, alright?")[(set: $PlayCheck to it - 1)(set: $ring to it + 1)(goto: "Interview3")] (link: "It feels... good, but that doesn't make it right.")[(set: $PlayCheck to it + 1)(set: $ring to it - 1)(goto: "Interview3")] (link: "It can be a lot of fun, actually.")[(set: $PlayCheck to it + 1)(goto: "Interview3")] (link: "It's... natural. Most of us, we're at our best in bondage!")[(set: $PlayCheck to it + 1)(set: $ring to it + 1)(goto: "Interview3")]

"My interviewee today is an offworlder, as I'm sure the background file on this recording will indicate. Thus she is a freewomb by this planet's horrendous terminology. Ma'am, what would you say to any woman thinking about traveling to Torei, as a freewomb?" (link: "Don't. Stay as far away as possible, and donate to groups like the Liberty Society as often as you can.")[(set: $PlayCheck to it - 1)(set: $ring to it - 1)(goto: "Interview4")] (link: "It's obviously an embarrassing thing to have stamped on your ID card, I wouldn't recommend it.")[(set: $ring to it - 1)(goto: "Interview4")] (link: "It's not proper to say, but... I don't know, maybe they're onto something here. Come try it out.")[(set: $PlayCheck to it - 1)(set: $ring to it + 1)(goto: "Interview4")] (link: "Torei is something special. Strange, but worth a trip.")[(set: $PlayCheck to it 1)(goto: "Interview4")] (link: "Come down the Way Up, and you will find a role that fits you. I certainly have.")[(set: $PlayCheck to it + 1)(set: $ring to it + 1)(goto: "Interview4")]

"Let's try something else-- what we call a *Torean decision.* These are scenarios constructed to resemble what women actually are forced to consider, here on Torei-- and to demonstrate the indignities forced upon them." Michael clears his throat. "Ma'am, consider you are enslaved by a wealthy landowner here on Torei. Your Governess-- for those listening to this recording, please check the included vocabulary guide for definitions-- is looking to move you into a new role. Which would you prefer?" (link: "None. I know I'll get punished, but I don't care.")[(set: $PlayCheck to it - 1)(set: $ring to it - 1)(goto: "Interview5")] (link: "Something that lets me keep my dignity, relatively. Receptionist, at my owner's business, perhaps? I met one today who only had wrist cuffs and a semi-transparent blouse.")[(set: $ring to it - 1)(goto: "Interview5")] (link: "Maybe a truant officer.")[(set: $PlayCheck to it + 1)(goto: "Interview5")] (link: "Concubine, my specialty is pleasure.")[(set: $PlayCheck to it + 1)(set: $ring to it + 1)(goto: "Interview5")]

"Let's try another *Torean decision.* You're walking down a street, ma'am, and find another freewomb bound outside a local Ministry of Truants office. In some Ringdoms on this planet, public exposure is a common punishment for misdemeanors such as petty theft. What do you do with her?" (link: "I do whatever I can to free her. Escaping the Ministry of Truants is supposed to be difficult... but she should be given the chance.")[(set: $PlayCheck to it - 1)(set: $ring to it - 1)(goto: "Interview6")] (link: "I ignore her, like most other people passing by would.")[(set: $ring to it - 1)(goto: "Interview6")] (link: "I'm angry someone can do that to her... but Toreans are really good at binding women...")[(set: $PlayCheck to it - 1)(set: $ring to it + 1)(goto: "Interview6")] (link: "I go inside to plead for her case-- a proper session with a riding crop would be far quicker, and the freewomb could set to earning credits for her fines, afterward.")[(set: $PlayCheck to it + 1)(set: $ring to it - 1)(goto: "Interview6")] (link: "Maybe play with her a bit, that is the point after all.")[(set: $PlayCheck to it + 1)(goto: "Interview6")] (link: "Steal something small myself, I'd like to join her up there!")[(set: $PlayCheck to it + 1)(set: $ring to it + 1)(goto: "Interview6")]

"The Ministry of Improvements is a staple of Torean culture-- and very indicative of the corruptive influence of Torean society. Gifted with medical advancements most colonies abroad can only dream of, it is primarily used here for the so called *improvement* of physical features. Often of a sexual nature. Ma'am, would you ever consider visting such a place?" (link: "Not a chance.")[(set: $PlayCheck to it - 1)(set: $ring to it - 1)(goto: "Interview7")] (link: "No... but others can do as they like.")[(set: $ring to it - 1)(goto: "Interview7")] (link: "I wouldn't like, but if that's what I was told to do...")[(set: $PlayCheck to it - 1)(set: $ring to it + 1)(goto: "Interview7")] (link: "I would! But I would use it solely for its medical capabilities, nothing beyond that.")[(set: $PlayCheck to it + 1)(set: $ring to it - 1)(goto: "Interview7")] (link: "Yes I would-- many freewombs use that Ministry to improve their chances of getting a collar, or for other things I guess.")[(set: $PlayCheck to it + 1)(set: $ring to it + 1)(goto: "Interview7")]

"Torei was originally formed and made into a habital planet by two of its three AI-- Mazos and Dahom. They also bred the strain of humanity that now derives from this planet, and are known for their cruelty. Ma'am, what are you views on the AIs?" (link: "They're disturbing, and untrustworthy. Dealing with them should be avoided at all costs.")[(set: $PlayCheck to it - 1)(set: $ring to it - 1)(goto: "Interview8")] (link: "Everyone hates them, and I do too.")[(set: $PlayCheck to it - 1)(set: $ring to it + 1)(goto: "Interview8")] (link: "If they came for me, I would do whatever it takes to fight them.")[(set: $PlayCheck to it + 1)(set: $ring to it - 1)(goto: "Interview8")] (link: "I remember... rumors of things they do to those under their control... it's fascinating, fascinating and terrifying...")[(set: $PlayCheck to it + 1)(set: $ring to it + 1)(goto: "Interview8")]

Michael checks the device at his wrist, a time keeping unit of some sort. "Alright, one last question as we wrap this up. Ma'am, could you describe your experience on Torei thus far-- in one word?" (link: "Horrific.")[(set: $PlayCheck to it - 1)(set: $ring to it - 1)(goto: "InterviewEND")] (link: "Bad.")[(set: $ring to it - 1)(goto: "InterviewEND")] (link: "...surprising.")[(set: $PlayCheck to it + 1)(goto: "InterviewEND")] (link: "Wonderful.")[(set: $PlayCheck to it 1)(set: $ring to it + 1)(goto: "InterviewEND")]

Double tapping the small recording device, your interviewer ends its capture. "Very good!" He concludes, enthusiastically. "Not that hard, right? Your 25 credits will be added to your account... any moment now. This interview will be taken by the next courier out of system-- it's just cheaper to bundle recordings like that together, and move somewhere less out of the way then Torei before broadcasting it to headquarters." (set: $debt to it + 25) He taps the top of his datapad. "Want to hear what your category will be, though?" [["Sure, what's my category?->InterviewENDYES]] [["I'd... rather not know, let's just call it good there."->Offworlder Hub]]

"Well, we grade these by two scores. They're automatically generated, and honestly I'm not fully supportive of the system... but it's what we do. The first checks what we refer to as your *personal approval* of Torei and its culture." (if: $PlayCheck is < -4)["You came in with very low personal approval, ma'am. That's *great* to see, for obvious reasons. Can you imagine someone actually liking what happens to women here?"] (if: $PlayCheck is -4 or -3 or -2)["You came back with moderately low levels of personal approval, ma'am. I would recommend being more obviously outraged at the situation here, but obviously that's your decision to make."] (if: $PlayCheck is -1 or 0 or 1)["Your score came back as relatively neutral, with regards to personal approval. What it *doesn't* tell me is if that's because you're feeling conflicted, or if you're not articulating your views clearly. Just something to consider."] (if: $PlayCheck is 2 or 3 or 4)["Your score came back as indicating moderate approval of Torean culture, ma'am. I have to ask... you're not liking ths, right? The things they do to you? Nevermind... just, think about it."] (if: $PlayCheck is > 4)["Your score come back as indicating exceptional personal approval of Torean culture, ma'am. That's... honestly a bit distressing, if I'm being perfectly honest. There are advocates for Torei out there... but most of those are male. Women like yourself end up in a collar, thinking like that."] Michael moves his finger down his pad, obviously reading off a list. "The second score grades-- I mean indicates, yeah, that's better... it indicates your level of *defiance* to Torean social norms." (if: $ring is < -4)["You came in as extremely defiant, when it comes to Torean norms and expectations! You're positively lion-like, I must say. Great job!"](if: $ring is -4 or -3 or -2)["You came in with relatively high levels of defiance towards Torean norms and expectations. That's pretty average, its usually only former slaves who rank higher."](if: $ring is -1 or 0 or 1)["You came in with very average defiance scores. I'm not really sure what to tell you that you don't already know yourself. Just be careful with that sort of think."](if: $ring is 2 or 3 or 4)[You came in with relatively low levels of defiance towrds Torean norms and expectations, ma'am. I've got some great books, if you would ever want to challenge your... very Torean viewpoint?"](if: $ring is > 4)[You came in as extremely receptive to Torean social norms and expectations, ma'am. I feel... I must remind you this will be available on our public-facing archives, at some point. It's not exactly a progressive viewpoint...] (if: $PlayCheck is > 4 and $ring is > 4)[He looks to you with something approaching sadness. "I'm sorry to inform you of this, ma'am, but you will be labeled in our system as a *willing submissive* given your scores."](if: $PlayCheck is < 4 and $ring is < 4)[He looks to you earnestly. "You should really consider working with the Liberty Society, once your current situation is cleared up. We always need more advocates, especially those that have firsthand experience."(set: $TruantOffer to true)] Well, perhaps you have a little clearer view of yourself. Or, at the very least you have 25 more credits. [[You give Michael some space as he steps away.->Offworlder Hub]]

"I feel the need to confirm with you again," Michael hesistates. You get the distinct feeling he considers the offer unsavory, despite the righteousness of the cause. "I know that standards on Torei are... different, but it will still be intense for you. The Society is required to get sign off from the Governess to use this material afterward, and... knowing their sort's reputation, she will be thorough in what she deems a proper representation of Torean culture." [["Wait-- what exactly is a Governess?"->OffPhotoGov]] [["I understand, but I need those credits. I'll do it."->OffPhoto3]] [["Perhaps you're... right. That doesn't exactly sound fun. I have to think about it."->Offworlder Hub]]

"Great..." he sighs. "Well, luckily for you, we have a photo session going on right now. We will need to move to the Society's local operating base. Governess Yennifer should already be there, working with the two other girls." Michael grabs his backpack, slinging it casually over one shoulder as he leads the way. "Oh, did I not mention the other girls? Obviously, we're trying to get a few different volunteers. Different perspectives, reactions, things like that." He leads you through the streets, the passing crowds of women parting before him-- at least it's easy to follow in his wake. Eventully you divert into an alley, then a door that enters into what appears to be an office space of some sort, subdivided and rented out. The Liberty Society's section is small, and currently deserted, but packed with supplies-- you get the clear impression Michael isn't its only member operating on Grand Aekora's outskirts. Passing by several boxes of pamphlets much like the ones your escort had been handing out, you notice one of a different style, the name *Convent of Perception* written in stark letters along the top. Your attention turns towards one of the myriad side doors, however, as Michael leads you through several. After the third, you come face to face with another woman waiting beside yet another door, her expression troubled. Her dress is black, and she looks worried. (set: $debt to it +100)(set: $debtSlave to true)(set: $TruantQuestPamph to true) "Are they nearly done?" Michael greets. The woman shakes her head. "She hasn't even allowed the cameras to start yet, hells-- it's been three hours for the first girl, nearly two for the second. That... *harpy* says she has to get the girls warmed up. Michael, I do *not* like this." Michael only signs again, a hand gently on your back as he guides you towards the door. "Just head on in," he instructs you, opening the final door. As you step through, he moves towards the woman, most of his words lost as he lowers his voice. "...for the best... knew she would be harsh... can only help keep tourists away..." [[That doesn't sound promising. Step through the door.->OffPhoto4]]

The man leans back a bit. "Right, your... memory issues. Well, many households and organizations on this planet can get very large. And Torean culture, regrettably, generally involves a variety of unconscionable things be done to women associated with, working in, or enslaved by those groups. Obviously leaders, be they CEOs or household heads, cannot manage such practices wholely by themselves. Thus the Governess-- they're usually enslaved themselves, but serve as overseers." [["That makes sense, I suppose. Should we get to it?"->OffPhoto3]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/ueFwYim.jpg"> "What do we have here...?" The voice rings out as you enter a larger room, the majority of it draped with a heavy white laminate tarp. Pulled tight along the walls and floor, it serves as a stage towards which a half-dozen cameras are arrayed. They sit idly, but the woman who had addressed you is anything but. Her outfit is uniformally black, a long sleeved laminate leotard that exposed plenty of the pale flesh between her hips and the knee high boots she is perched upon. The cut of the outfit is low, exposing the tops of her breasts, a heavy strap running just above them. Above *that* she is securely collared, a hint of submission amongst so much dominance. (if: $Strike is >= 8)["Ah," she purrs, her advance towards you marked by a bold stride and snapping heels. Her bright red lips curl into a smile, the one hint of color between her uniform and black hair. "I *know* you. We met on the street! Such a small... delightful world. And now you're another naughty slut!"](else:)["Ah," she purrs, her advance towards you marked by a bold stride and snapping heels. Her bright red lips curl into a smile, the one hint of color between her uniform and black hair. "Another naughty *slut.*"] Who she meant by 'another' requires only a glance beyond the Governess. In the center of the makeshift stage, three poles run from ceiling to floor. Two are... occupied. In the center a girl in a pink laminante dress has her hands bound behind her back, a shiny ring gag pressed between her teeth, forcing her mouth open. The cups of her dress have been pulled down, both revealing her pierced nipples and stripping her of anything approaching dignity. Her expression is a mixture of frustrated and distraught, but it takes you a moment to recognize *why* beyond the obvious causes-- but you eventually do notice a laminate cord, running down from the top of her pole, then down behind her back. Just what purpose that cord served is demonstrated by the second woman. Much like the first, she has her own pole, her hands bound behind her back. Her laminate outfit is a pale blue, her breasts likewise exposed. Unlike her compatriot in bondage, however, she isn't standing angrily-- she's *hanging*. Her legs are folded up, straps encircling her thighs (and thus her calves), one to each side her pole. And the cord from above? She doesn't have a skirt to hide the fact that it was connected to a heavy device currently installed in her ass, supporting her weight entirely. Her head is bowed, drool running from her gagged mouth to the floor. [["Oh no."->OffPhoto5]] [["Uh... Michael?!"->OffPhoto5]] [["Stay away from me!"->OffPhoto5]]

"Don't be so *shy*," the black-clad woman interrupts, seizing you by the throat. She's strong, stronger then you would have expected of her. Truly, did Torean biotechnology have any limits? "What have they sent me?" Her free hand glides over your laminate hips. "(if: $Blue is true)[Another freewomb in blue, but I do say-- the restraints on this one are quite agreeable. The collar suits you. But are you worthy of it? I'll be the judge of that.] (if: $Smoke is true)[An offworlder freewomb, something that so often disappoints. But this one has cloaked herself in smoke. She enjoys being exposed, to have her modesty to be so ill-defined.] (if: $Brand is true)[A girl who sold her own body to the words of others. Isn't that amusing? Properly corseted at least, and those boots! I can work with this.] (if: $Sec is true)[A professional, clearly. Someone who enjoys looking put together. A false sense of modesty. I'll have to do something about that.] (if: $Slave is true)[A slave, per all the usual regulations. Corseted, heeled, masked, plugged. I don't even need to ask if you're enjoying yourself, slut. If I were to pull out that front cock, I know it would be slick with desire. Those suits don't give you a choice on that.] (if: $Level is 0)[Ah, and that's it? No further bindings. An industrious freewomb.](if: $Level is 1)[The hobble is a proper accessory-- what need does a girl like you have of a long stride?] (if: $Level is 2)[The hobble is a proper accessory-- what need does a girl like you have of a long stride? Or *arms*, for that matter. I'm sure your shoulders are burning. Well, we won't be touching that.] (if: $Level is 3 or 4)[The hobble is a proper accessory-- what need does a girl like you have of a long stride? Or *arms*, for that matter. I'm sure your shoulders are burning. Well, we won't be touching that. Can't say the same about those piercings, though.]" She pivots, resting her arm across your shoulders. You get the sense she has absolutely zero sense of personal space. Together you look towards the three poles, and two bound girls. The Governess' black lips slide into a wicked grin. "Ready to join them?" [["Y-Yes."->OffYes]] [["No!"->OffNo]] [["Michael, get me out of here!"->OffNo]]

"Already submissive," she purrs. "That's a good start." She leads you forward, approaching the woman in the middle. Raven haired and pretty, her opened mouth drools a bit onto the floor, her eyes trying to stay focused. This much closer, you can see the telltale red marks of some device-- whip or crop-- along her flanks. She's standing on her toes, barely, the toes of her boots barely managing to hold her steady. That last bit, *steady*, is demonstrated to be quite important when the Governess uses her shoulder to push her to the side. She pivots, moaning desperately, without the footing to halt the process despite her muted attempts to do so. "Your ID indicates you're... quite new to Torei," the Governess explains, flicking the thick laminate cord to which the steel that emerged from the girl's ass attached. The cord thrums in response, and so does your fellow freewomb, the sound pleading. "You've probably not seen an anal hook in person, but that's what is buried inside her. An *excellent* tool if rigged correctly. Perfect for what those fool Offworlders think they're getting here." The bound girl's wriggling ceases, her breathing heavy. Her moans turn towards something else, a concerted attempt to communicate. It sounds unintelligble to you, but the Governess has the experience to translate. "She wants her pole now, in full," the Governess cups her cheek, smiling with those bright red lips. "I knew we would get there. In just a moment, dear." [["What does she mean, in full?"->OffFull]] [["What... have you done to her?"->OffFull]]

"Oh, let's not start with *that*," she growls. She leads you forward, approaching the woman in the middle. Raven haired and pretty, her opened mouth drools a bit onto the floor, her eyes trying to stay focused. This much closer, you can see the telltale red marks of some device-- whip or crop-- along her flanks. She's standing on her toes, barely, the toes of her boots barely managing to hold her steady. That last bit, *steady*, is demonstrated to be quite important when the Governess uses her shoulder to push her to the side. She pivots, moaning desperately, without the footing to halt the process despite her muted attempts to do so. "Your ID indicates you're... quite new to Torei," the Governess explains, flicking the thick laminate cord to which the steel that emerged from the girl's ass attached. The cord thrums in response, and so does your fellow freewomb, the sound pleading. "You've probably not seen an anal hook in person, but that's what is buried inside her. An *excellent* tool if rigged correctly. Perfect for what those fool Offworlders think they're getting here." The bound girl's wriggling ceases, her breathing heavy. Her moans turn towards something else, a concerted attempt to communicate. It sounds unintelligble to you, but the Governess has the experience to translate. "She wants her pole now, in full," the Governess cups the girl's cheek, smiling with those bright red lips as she wipes away a freshly shed tear from her victim. "I knew we would get there. In just a moment, dear." [["What does she mean, in full?"->OffFull]] [["What... have you done to her?"->OffFull]]

"It's a technique," she explains, leading you again, stepping towards the other bound woman. "That few Freewombs experience, unless they get a proper collar. This is a breaking pole, and it's *torture*." The final woman is as you glimpsed her before-- bound like the previous, but with her legs lifted, knees a few feet from the floor. Supported solely by the hook, you also notice something lodged in her exposed womanhood-- the obvious base of cock, churning relentlessly. "Present," the Governess commands, and the bound girl instantly complies. Her face is covered by the fall of her hair and she doesn't raise it now, but she does arch her back, pressing out her chest. It's an effect that clearly takes some effort, the girl moaning lewdly. "Good *slave*. Do you want down?" The freewomb shakes her head *no*, barely perceptible compared to the line of drool that runs down onto her own chest. The Governess seems ready to continue, but a sharp snap suddenly sounds, replacing the hum of the vibrator lodged within the girl. A shock. "Almost orgasmed," comes the commentary. "Come, let's get you setup on yours." [[Resist. Once you're further bound, there will be no other opportunity.->OffResist]] [[Let it happen.->OffLet]]

You may have grown accustomed to your laminate by now, but the Governess is so much *more*. Faster to react then you had expected, still so much stronger, and with a discerning eye towards the restrictions upon you-- manipulating the interplay of fashion, laminate, and details like heels with ease. You barely make it two steps. "This isn't acceptable, but I can see you're the sort of Offworlder who *needs* this. Don't you want to look proper for your photos?" By the time the Governess finishes speaking, you've been forced towards the pole with a commanding force applied to your (if: $Level is > 1)[your armbinder.](else:)[your arms.] (if: $Smoke is true or $Brand is true or $Sec is true)[A collar awaits, ready to be snapped around your neck.] (if: $Level is > 1)[The ring at the end of your armbinder is hooked into, forcing it down, to be painfully placed between the pole and yourself](if: $Level is 0 or 1)[Your arms are forced behind your back, cuffs at wrist and bicep both linking them together and folding them up and behind.] "And now..." You already know what she's reaching for before she displays it so prominantly, chromed steel glaring in the bright light of the studio lights. A wicked, curved hook, the tip formed into a rounded ball. She does not even give you the chance to comply. [[Scream.->OffPhoto6]] [[Scream louder.->OffPhoto6]]

You follow in her wake, meekly. The girl in the middle meets your eyes as you pass, pity in them. "The transformation is more grand if you resist," the Governess notes. "But this will have to do. Presented with your own breaking pole, the governess seizes (if: $Level is > 1)[your armbinder.](else:)[your arms.] (if: $Smoke is true or $Brand is true or $Sec is true)[A collar awaits, ready to be snapped around your neck.](if: $Level is > 1)[The ring at the end of your armbinder is hooked into, forcing it down, to be painfully placed between the pole and yourself](if: $Level is 0 or 1)[Your arms are forced behind your back, cuffs at wrist and bicep both linking them together and folding them up and behind.] "And now..." You already know what she's reaching for before she displays it so prominantly, chromed steel glaring in the bright light of the studio lights. A wicked, curved hook, the tip formed into a rounded ball. She does not even give you the chance to comply. [[Scream.->OffPhoto6]] [[Scream louder.->OffPhoto6]]

There is no ceremony to it. (if: $Slave is true)[Reaching down, you see a brief glimse of a holographic confirmation of Governess credentials before the locked zipper between your legs is disengaged. The sudden sensation of your plugs being pulled out is *intense*, your muscles left twitching from a sudden sense of absence as they're dumped lewdly upon the floor. Somewhere along the way you certainly moan.](if: $Sec is true)[Reaching down the Governess hikes up your skirt, revealing the warm holes normally hidden from view.](if: $Blue is true or $Smoke is true or $Brand is true)[Reaching down the Governess seizes upon the zipper of your catsuit, pulling it down in one smooth motion.] Path cleared, you're hooked. The steel is devilishly cold as its forced in, following a curving angle as she positions in precisely. Arms bound and with one of her hands still at your waist, there is little you can manage in resistance besides (if: $Slave is true)[another] wet moan. "There..." You feel the hook reach its destination as much as you're told, the tip somewhere deep within coming to rest against flesh that normally avoided such direct stimulation. Nerve clusters fire in response, registering pain and pleasure in strange combinations. Yet that's only the start of it-- the feeling *builds* as she adjusts the laminate cord that linked it above, drawing you up... up... until you can barely stand on your toes. [["Get me down from here!"->OffPhoto7]] [["Please don't, Governess!"->OffPhoto7]] [["T-Thank you, Governess..."->OffPhoto7]]

She ignores your speech, focusing instead solely on your body. (if: $Slave is true)[Her Governess credentials allow her to remove your regulation mask, leaving only the tight laminate hood that clung to your face.] A gag follows, the same ring-shaped device attached to a harness that the other girls wore. She positions it upon your head, a final tug on a laminate strap securing it into place. The ring between your full (if: $Blue is true)[navy] (if: $Smoke is true)[black] (if: $Brand is true)[red] (if: $Sec is true)[red] (if: $Slave is true)[red] lips denys you the option to prevent anything being inserted into your throat. And then you're ignored. The Governess shifts her attention back to the girl in the middle, leaving you awkwardly bound, a line of drool running from your gagged mouth. It's almost... frustrating? Did you want to be freed, though, or merely the Governess' attention? It's something you consider as the pink laminated girl loses her right to stand, instead submitting to her pole completely with a moaned whimper. As reward-- or perhaps merely to serve as further torture-- she too is given a vibrating insert. It takes only a few moments for the first whip-crack like snap to emit from the device, preventing an orgasm as the girl wriggles helplessly on her hook with a delirious moan. Your world, meanwhile, has grown so very small. Escape is out of the question, and who *knows* what else the Governess planned. You have but two choices: to resist, or to submit-- and one goal. *Endure.* (set: $PlayCheck to 0) [[Resist.->OffPhoto8R]] [[Submit.->OffPhoto8S]]

You resist. Stepping forward you force yourself to the limits of your bondage, moaning a gagged demand for release. Stepping forward only shifts your anal hook, however, and the Governess never meets your eyes. What concern are you worthy of now? Do you think you're worthy of attention? It doesn't matter-- the Governess is not looking for your compliance. She demands only that you undergo her ministrations. They come in the form of a laminate whip, the thick-wrapped handle descending into a handful of thin strands. You're the only flagellant, and she does not give you mercy. Even your gagged shouting is ignored as she works you over, the hook upon which you're perched pulling ever deeper inside you as you're commanded to turn, exposing your rear to the same means of punishment. This is even worse, in fact, as without the protection of laminate your tender flesh is all the more exposed. [[Resist.->OffPhoto9R]] [[Submit.->OffPhoto9S]]

Your eyes drop towards the floor, trying to smooth your own passage forward. At least the girl in pink laminate had tried the path of resistance, and look what that had got her-- little more then a harder route to the same destination. A Torean Governess could not be beaten, not at something like this. You submit. It doesn't matter-- the Governess is not looking for your compliance. She demands only that you undergo her ministrations. They come in the form of a laminate whip, the thick-wrapped handle descending into a handful of thin strands. You're the only flagellant, and she does not give you mercy. Even your gagged begging is ignored as she works you over, the hook upon which you're perched pulling ever deeper inside you as you're commanded to turn, exposing your rear to the same means of punishment. This is even worse, in fact, as without the protection of laminate your tender flesh is all the more exposed. [[Resist.->OffPhoto9R]] [[Submit.->OffPhoto9S]]

You try to disrupt her work whenever you can-- anticipating her strikes to turn your flank, at least lessening the effect of repeated whips upon the same section of flesh or laminate. Again, however, it hardly seems to matter to the Governess. You do not have unlimited real estate to give, and she appears in no rush-- instead merely continuing until you're *forced* to present areas of your rear that burn from the resultant attention. After several sharp strikes to your cunt she then suddenly changes tactic, seizing upon a thick, phallic piece of laminate that she holds to your mouth. Still gagged with the ring between your teeth, you're in little position to prevent her cock from being shoved in. Deep, deeper then you have ever known. Back all the way to your throat, the triggering of your gag reflex only narrowly avoided. You're left panting, utterly violated, as she nonchalantly switches back to the whip. [[Resist.->OffPhoto10R]] [[Submit.->OffPhoto10S]]

It may hurt like *hell*, and your sense of dignity still screams from the dark corner you shove it into, but you are too keen to not notice a losing scenario when presented with one. The Governess is in no rush, and you are in no position to negotiate. What was the point in drawing out the inevitable? It's a question you're forced to ask yourself again and again as she works you over with the whip, focusing the snapping licks upon particular sections of your body that soon burn, so very raw, as a result. Yet after several sharp strikes to your cunt she then suddenly changes tactic, seizing upon a thick, phallic piece of laminate that she holds to your mouth. Still gagged with the ring between your teeth, you're in little position to prevent her cock from being shoved in. Deep, deeper then you have ever known. Back all the way to your throat, the triggering of your gag reflex only narrowly avoided. You're left panting, utterly violated, as she nonchalantly switches back to the whip. [[Resist.->OffPhoto10R]] [[Submit.->OffPhoto10S]]

It doesn't matter what you do. You cannot escape the whipping, or your violation via ring gag. Delaying the inevitable buys a few moments, but the Governess' work only turns towards the more aggressive afterward. You lose track of time, and the harsh treatment only continues. Soon you're slick with sweat, panting in the moments she does not have that cock jammed between your lips. Somewhere along the way she pauses, only to focus instead on one of your legs. Lifting it, she secures it in a folded position behind your thigh with a thick laminate strap. You cannot even stand comfortably anymore, the stiletto heel of your shoes keeping you perpetually offbalance as the whipping begins again. [[Resist.->OffPhotoRepeat]] [[Submit.->OffPhotoRepeat]]

It doesn't matter what you do. Allowing the Governess to whip you, to violate your mouth, doesn't sate her. She wants *more*, and keeps up the cycle you've been subjected to without mercy. You lose track of time, and the harsh treatment only continues. Soon you're slick with sweat, panting in the moments she does not have that cock jammed between your lips. Somewhere along the way she pauses, only to focus instead on one of your legs. Lifting it, she secures it in a folded position behind your thigh with a thick laminate strap. You cannot even stand comfortably anymore, the stiletto heel of your shoes keeping you perpetually offbalance as the whipping begins again. [[Resist.->OffPhotoRepeat]] [[Submit.->OffPhotoRepeat]]

Beside you, the other girls on their poles occasionally moan quietly. The Governess keeps her attention you, cycling between the whip and the cock-- endlessly. (set: $PlayCheck to it + 1) (if: $PlayCheck is 2)[The whip snaps against your rear, pain shooting upward as you try to maintain your balance. Despite yourself, you moan through your gag.](if: $PlayCheck is 3)[The laminate cock is shoved into your throat, running back and forth several times.](if: $PlayCheck is 4)[The whip returns, focusing on your flanks this time. Shimmying your hips does nothing to blunt the experience.](if: $PlayCheck is 5)[The cock is shoved down your throat, this time being held. Tears form as you begin to struggle, but the Governess holds her position, only eventually pulling it forth when *she* thinks you have had enough.](if: $PlayCheck is 6)[The whip once more is applied to your rear, drifting down in the last few lashes to strike along the back of your thighs. That's fresh territory, and fresh pain spikes through your nervous system.](if: $PlayCheck is 7)[A second round of deep throat and hold occurs, your near-gagging on the cock carefully observed by the Governess. Her beauty seems only to be emphasized in that moment, the black of her hair framing an expression of intense attention. Beautiful and terrible to behold.](if: $PlayCheck is 8)[You follow the Governess' command to once again present your rear with resignation, panting from the effort she continues to subject you to. Back and forth, back and forth...](if: $PlayCheck is 9)[The cock returns, sliding between your full lips so easily. You cannot resist. Why would you?](if: $PlayCheck is > 9)[Whip and cock. Back and forth, back and forth...] [[Resist.->OffPhotoRepeat]] (if: $PlayCheck is < 10)[[[Submit.->OffPhotoRepeat]]](else:)[[[Submit.->OffPhotoFinal]]]

Finally-- *finally* your gagged begging is answered. The Governess ceases her work, turning those hands that had tortured you so to your cheeks, directing your gaze into her's. "You want the full pole?" You nod, the only option left to you. That had always been the goal. She directs you carefully, pulling up your leg, then securing it. Your full weight now rests on the hook. The vibrator follows, being slid between your legs without any sort fanfare. "You will *not* be allowed to cum," the Governess reminds you. The vibrator is cold, but your cunt takes it in willingly. You know what's coming next. The hum, the undulating sensations that drive pleasure up between your legs... until you near that crest, and the inbuilt shock device knocks you back down. [["Mmmgh!"->OffPhotoFinal 2]] [["Hmmmgh!"->OffPhotoFinal 2]]

How long does it go on? You still have no sense of time, not within the windowless room. All you have is the ecstasy, a rising tide broken by the sharp interruption of the shocks. It's *relentless.* Eventually your head dips (if: $Slave is true)[the laminate coating your face as your eyes grow unfocused.](else:)[and your hair covers your face, eyes growing unfocused.] It's only then the Governess is satisfied. You're lost to the pole as she finally allows the cameras to capture your torment, preserving in digital form what true Torean submission looked like. That sentient spark buried in your overworked mind can only reel at the idea of such images being spread across the galaxy, your abject submission made the subject of so much discussion, inquiry-- and perhaps interest. Torei had that alluring effect on some, after all. [[Time passes...->OffPhotoFinal 3]]

Your mind rouses properly sometime later, only for you to notice your situation had changed. (if: $Slave is true)[Unfortunately that takes the form of your regulation mask and inserts having been return, the latter shifting so obviously within flesh so hungry now for release.] (if: $Level is > 1)[Your armbinder as been replaced, the tight laminate already causing the ache in your shoulders to return.] But you're free of the pole, and that's all that truly matters. The other girls, even the Governess is gone. Only you remain, deposited on the white of the floor, Michael standing above you. "I'm... sorry," he manages, helping you to your feet. (if: $Level is 1)[Your hobble chain pulls momentarily taut(if: $Level is > 1)[ and is hands are strong on your armbinder].] "It's for a good cause... but... there is nothing I can really say, I suppose. If you don't want to work with us going forward, I would understand. I'll walk you out... and you can talk to me again only if you desire, ma'am." He does as he promises, guiding back out of the apartment-like complex, back onto the Torean streets. So you're just another woman among the many making their way, so many colors and heeled boots snapping against the pavement. Returning to Michael's customary corner, he releases you. "For what it's worth, the credits you earned should already be in your account." [[Was it worth it?->Offworlder Hub]]

With her hands firmly guiding you by your (if: $Level is > 1)[armbinder](if: $Level is < 2)[arms], the Officer directs you towards the slaves, to be segregated from the freewombs proper. "Another standard slave-grade," your attending officer tells one of her compatriots, who approaches. "Get this slut restrained, we'll check her ID in a bit. Protocol means we start with the freewombs." [["Wait! I'm a freewomb!"->TruantSlaveResist]] [[Don't say a thing."->TruantSlaveCon]]

The woman behind you finally speaks, her grip on your (if: $Level is > 1)[armbinder](if: $Level is 0 or 1)[arms] strong and unyielding. "This is a Ministry of Truants operation, and you're being detained. Up against the wall!" She all but forces you anyway, as you try to figure out what exactly you had done wrong. The Ministry of Truants-- you may have heard of them-- did *not* have a good reputation on Torei. They were efficent, well-staffed and supplied, that wasn't the problem. No, they were *feared* by many freewombs precisely because they were so good-- a less thorough organization may have been less strict with the myriad of laws and regulations that could quickly find a freewomb like yourself in trouble. You're lined up facing a wall beside a few other similarly bewildered freewombs. "Spread your legs," comes the order from behind, alongside a tap of her boot against your own. (if: $Level is > 0)[Your hobble chain quickly pulls taut.] (if: $Level is > 1)["Forehead against the wall, armbinder out.](if: $Level is 0 or 1)["Hands up, palms against the wall."] [["What is the meaning of this?"->TruantRegResist]] [[Remains silent.->TruantRegComply]]

A baton, heavy and hard, is slid up between your legs. It rests where they meet, at your very nexus. "You will speak when spoken you," the officer commands, her steely voice calm but unyielding. "Or I *will* shock you." [["Like hell you--"->TruantRegResist2]] [[Nod with understanding.->TruantGreet3]]

You don't even get the full sentence out before the officer follows through on her threat, the baton emitting a shock of incredible potency. The freewomb to your side eyes you with pity as you yelp, the officer behind sighing. (set: $debt to it - 25) "And... you just earned a 25 credit fine as well. Lesson learned?" [["Lesson learned.->TruantGreet3]]

"Good," the Officer continues. Reaching out, her hands glide down your laminate oufit, frisking you. By Torean standards the experience is quite tame, but by those of the galactic community it's barely above being groped. She's very thorough as well, (if: $Blue is true)[nimble fingers slipping beneath your various cuffs and restraints. Given the moment to consider, and perhaps trying to ignore the sensation of her hands up against your inner thighs, you have to admit that lacking pockets that would be a devious place to store something.] (if: $Smoke is true)[nimble fingers slipping beneath your harness, following the dark material along your sloping shoulders, down to the heavy band beneath your chest.] (if: $Brand is true)[gliding along the bright adverts of your suit, then checking among the laces of your corset.] (if: $Sec is true)[hiking up your skirt with little regard for your dignity.] In the end, however, she seems satisfied. "You may turn," she instructs afterward. "And present your ID." [["Yes ma'am."->TruantGreet4]] (if: $PlayE is true)[[You remember Isabella's training. She's an officer of the Ministry of Truancy, a position of immediate power. Greet her in the Torean fashion, with a reverence.->TruantGreetRev]]

Your silent holding of the commanded pose is met with momentary silence from the officer, followed by a hand on your (if: $Brand is true)[corseted] waist. "Good girl." [[You look down.->TruantGreet3]]

You turn, offering up your ID, and for the first time get a good look at the Officer. <img src="https://i.imgur.com/eYFZt2O.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> Her uniform is bright blue with black streaks, a single piece that ends in a short skirt roughly halfway down her thighs. The badge of her Ministry is clearly imprinted above her breast and on each shoulder, as well as above the brim of that hate she wears. A tight bun corrals a considerable amount of raven hair while her auburn eyes scrutinize your identification card closely. At her belt she wears several sets of restraints, and a heavy looking cylinder-- a military grade shock baton. "Everything... appears to be in order," she concludes, sounding a bit disappointed. She hands back your ID, and allows you to a more casual position. "Where are you heading today?" [["Actually, I'm trying to make some credits."->TruantGreetCollect]] [["Downtown, once I collect the credits for the fare."->TruantGreetCollect]]

(if: $Sec is true)[(if: $Level is 1)[Eyes down, you grab the bottom of your skirt, pulling it up. Your slit is briefly exposed as you bend your knees, performing something akin to a curtsy as the officer smiles slightly. Holding the pose for a long moment, you smooth your skirt back down afterwards.]](if: $Brand is true or $Smoke is true or $Blue is true)[(if: $Level is 1)[Eyes down, you grab hold of your zipper, performing a smooth bow as you expose your slit to her briefly.]](if: $Slave is true)[(if: $Level is 1)[Eyes down, you kneel before her, folding your arms behind your back in due deferance.]](if: $Slave is true or $Brand is true or $Smoke is true or $Blue is true or $Sec is true)[(if: $Level is > 1)[Eyes down, you kneel before her, spreading your legs and pushing your hips forward, unable to do much else given your armbinder.]] "It's always good when a Freewomb remembers her place," the Officer muses, taking the ID you offer. As she examines it, you're given a good look at her for the first time. <img src="https://i.imgur.com/eYFZt2O.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> Her uniform is bright blue with black streaks, a single piece that ends in a short skirt roughly halfway down her thighs. The badge of her Ministry is clearly imprinted above her breast and on each shoulder, as well as above the brim of that hate she wears. A tight bun corrals a considerable amount of raven hair while her auburn eyes scrutinize your identification card closely. At her belt she wears several sets of restraints, and a heavy looking cylinder-- a military grade shock baton. "Everything... appears to be in order," she concludes, sounding a bit disappointed. She hands back your ID, and allows you to a more casual position. "Where are you heading today?" [["Actually, I'm trying to make some credits."->TruantGreetCollect]] [["Downtown, once I collect the credits for the fare."->TruantGreetCollect]]

"Well, your entry with the Ministry of Wombs came up clean. We have no outstanding warrants, and this ID is valid-- until the end of tomorrow, at least. You're clearly not who we're looking for. I suppose you're free to go." She turns to go, but pauses, a hand resting on the baton's holster. As if reaching a conclusion, she looks to you again, eyes drifting down your outfit. "Hmm... perhaps you could be of use to me, however. For our current investigation. (if: $Blue is true)[In that laminate, with all those cuffs,] (if: $Smoke is true)[In that sheer laminate, showing off your tits,] (if: $Brand is true)[In that laminate, wearing those brands,] (if: $Sec is true)[In that cute outfit, and all that laminate,] (if: $Slave is true)[In all that bondage gear,] they certainly wouldn't suspect you... *yes*. Alright. You mentioned you're looking for credits, girl? Come find me in a bit. By my Ministry cruiser," she points to one of the transports nearby. "I've got something you could do to *really* earn some credits. I'm Truant Officer 2nd Class Kaori Nikaido, by the way." She waits, very quickly becoming impatient as she points out of the alley, towards the street. "So yeah, come find me. Right now, though? Get the hell out of my checkpoint." (set: $TruantFound to true) [[Working with a Ministry? A lucrative offer... but for now, continue on your way.->TransitCheckReturn]]

You're not even given the dignity of an immediate response-- the officer behind you merely slides a heavy feeling cylinder up between your legs, tapping it against your plugs. When you moan, unavoidable given the circumstances, she answers the sound with a click. The cylinder proves to be a shock baton, the excrutiating pulse of electricty passing into your womanhood leaving you twitching as you're lowered to the ground. (set: $debt to it - 50) "That's a fifty credit fine for speaking out of turn, slave," she growls. To the other officer, she snaps a hand. "Restrain her. I'll be back. And if she talks again, give her another jolt." [[You try to catch your breath->TruantSlaveCon]]

The officers are not gentle. Forcing you down, you're soon laying on the pavement alongside a row of other slave-suited girls. Each are bound, their legs pulled up and above them, linking to their arms or heads-- the method varies. What doesn't vary is the uncomfortable look each of them give you, and how quickly you join them. (if: $Level is 0 or 1)[Forcing your arms behind your back, they're linked by a pair of wrist cuffs that are quickly snapped upon you. A similar set is applied to your ankles, whereupon a chain is run between them-- fiendishly short, forcing you to bend your legs so far back your ankles can be hooked to a 3rd set of cuffs affixed just above the elbow. If that wasn't cruel enough, the officer completes the ensemble with one more chain, this last one pulling your head up and back. The harness of your regulator mask is used to link from head to ankles.](if: $Level is > 2)[Unlike some of the girls who are wearing cuffs, your armbinder ensures no such devices are needed beside those the officer snaps onto your ankles. A chain is then run between the ring of your armbinder to the ankle cuffs, fiendishly short, thus requiring you to bend your legs up and back. If that wasn't cruel enough, the officer completes the ensemble with one more chain, this last one pulling your head up and back. The harness of your regulator mask is used to link from head to ankles.] Altogether you're left on your stomach, bent all but backwards, your limbs collected together. Hogtied, one black suited slave in a line perhaps a half dozen strong. [["You can't do this!"->TruantSlaveResist2]] [["Officer, there has been a misunderstanding..."->TruantSlaveResist2]] [[Focus on your breathing. It's so hard with your mask, and your head pulled back...->TruantSlaveGood]]

The attending officer doesn't even look down-- she just pulls forth a shock baton, casually places it against your glossy rear, and depresses the trigger. Volts pour into your body, momentary spasms giving way to abject pain as the officer walks on. (set: $debt to it - 50) "Fifty credit fine for that, per the Slave Code. Quiet now." [[Whimper impotently.->TruantSlaveGood]]

After that, the officers leave you alone. A few more slaves in similar attire, or obviously collared, are added to your small collection but mostly they focus on processing the freewombs pulled from the checkpoint. It leaves you with little to do but watch the passing crowds, and focus on the growing discomfort rising from your bonds. Of the former, you do start to recognize a pattern in those they take for further questioning in the alley-- they seem to be using a scanner in one of the Ministry vehicles to check IDs from afar, a smattering of overheard conversation revealing they seemed to be looking for those with recent ID alterations. Of the latter? Your shoulders ache, your neck throbs, and breathing remains a challenge. It takes quite some time for the officers to address the slaves, and even then you're hardly first in line. By the time they reach you several hours have passed, and even then you are not given much in the way of conversation-- an officer approaches, and begins frisking you. She is not gentle, nor does she care about your dignity. Her hands move all across your tightly bond form, between your legs, checking your (if: $Level is 3 or 4)[pierced] breasts, even examining the lacing of your corset. Only *then* does she check your ID. "A freewomb," she notes, sounding only a bit surprised. "Must be quite the slut to have ended up locked in there. I'm going to unlock you." She does, removing the Ministry-stamped components of your bondage. Even still, your suit and its accessories are restraint enough. "Most of the slave code still applies to you, in that suit," she notes. "So if you got any fines, don't think we're changing them. Now get up." [["Yes ma'am."->TruantSlaveCon2]] (if: $PlayE is true)[[You remember Isabella's training. She's an officer of the Ministry of Truancy, a position of immediate power. You're little better then a slave. Greet her in the Torean fashion, with a reverence.->TruantSlaveRev]]

You rise, offering up your ID, and for the first time get a good look at the Officer. <img src="https://i.imgur.com/eYFZt2O.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> Her uniform is bright blue with black streaks, a single piece that ends in a short skirt roughly halfway down her thighs. The badge of her Ministry is clearly imprinted above her breast and on each shoulder, as well as above the brim of that hate she wears. A tight bun corrals a considerable amount of raven hair while her auburn eyes scrutinize your identification card closely. At her belt she wears several sets of restraints, and a heavy looking cylinder-- a military grade shock baton. "Everything... appears to be in order," she concludes, sounding a bit disappointed. She hands back your ID, and allows you to a more casual position. "Where are you heading today?" [["Actually, I'm trying to make some credits."->TruantGreetCollect]] [["Downtown, once I collect the credits for the fare."->TruantGreetCollect]]

(if: $Sec is true)[(if: Level is 1)[Eyes down, you grab the bottom of your skirt, pulling it up. Your slit is briefly exposed as you bend your knees, performing something akin to a curtsy as the officer smiles slightly. Holding the pose for a long moment, you smooth your skirt back down afterwards.]](if: $Brand is true or $Smoke is true or $Blue is true)[(if: $Level is 1)[Eyes down, you grab hold of your zipper, performing a smooth bow as you expose your slit to her briefly.]](if: $Slave is true)[(if: $Level is 1)[Eyes down, you kneel before her, folding your arms behind your back in due deferance.]](if: $Slave is true or $Brand is true or $Smoke is true or $Blue is true or $Sec is true)[(if: $Level is > 1)[Eyes down, you kneel before her, spreading your legs and pushing your hips forward, unable to do much else given your armbinder.]] "It's always good when a Freewomb remembers her place," the Officer muses, while you're given a good look at her for the first time. <img src="https://i.imgur.com/eYFZt2O.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> Her uniform is bright blue with black streaks, a single piece that ends in a short skirt roughly halfway down her thighs. The badge of her Ministry is clearly imprinted above her breast and on each shoulder, as well as above the brim of that hate she wears. A tight bun corrals a considerable amount of raven hair while her auburn eyes scrutinize your identification card closely. At her belt she wears several sets of restraints, and a heavy looking cylinder-- a military grade shock baton. "Everything... appears to be in order," she concludes, sounding a bit disappointed. She hands back your ID, and allows you to a more casual position. "Where are you heading today?" [["Actually, I'm trying to make some credits."->TruantGreetCollect]] [["Downtown, once I collect the credits for the fare."->TruantGreetCollect]]

You enter, the glossy reflections on your laminate muting as soon you pass beneath the shadow of the canopy above. So too does the bustle and noise of the world beyond seem to lessen, the cacophony of modern Torean life replaced by... *silence.* Advancing further, you lose sight of the gate-- the plot of land may be small, but the wave-like foliage seems to encompass all, smothering you in its embrace. Stepping past a particularly thick trunk-analogue, you catch sight of movement. A figure, kneeling in a small clearing. Their cloak, bright red, is a blast of fresh color among so many shades of dark purple. [[Time to get the HELL out of here!->Street Hub]] [["E-Excuse me?"->NunGreet3]]

The figure turns and rises in a flourish of red laminate, revealing... a woman, wide-hipped and feminine, wearing garb only this planet could hold up as religious. <img src="https://i.imgur.com/Iq1v84O.png" width="30%" height="30%"> (set: $NunCheck to true) The red of her cloak is offset by the dark black of her catsuit, the heavy corset and strict collar (if: $Slave is true)[very much like your own.](else:)[very much like a slave's.] Red stockings and panties offset so much darkess, as does the gag-like muzzle pulled tightly against the lower half of her head. You notice a heavy septum piercing hanging from her nose, as well as the unmistakable markers of similarly invasive adornments to her nipples, visible so easily given how tight the laminate covering her matronly bust is. Her hood casts a deep shadow over her eyes, but you notice they seem to be red as well-- giving her gaze an inhuman cast. "Welcome(if: $Slave is true)[, Sister]." Her voice is soft, as if each word is carefully considered. The laminate across her lips muffles the effect somewhat. "Welcome to our Convent." The long sleeves of her cloak allow her gloved hands to remain hidden as they entwine before her, but you catch a brief glimpse of shackles adorning each wrist. "My name is Sister Euphoria. What is it you seek?" [["I was... just exploring."->NunSeek]] [["What... do you mean, seek?"->NunSeek]]

"Mhm," the Sister purrs, crossing the distance before you. She's tall-- *very* tall, even with your heels you barely make it to her shoulder. "Many are called to the Convent, even if they cannot place the reason why. It matters not(if: $Slave is true)[, Sister]. All are welcome." She pauses, those red eyes searching out your own. When they meet, she gazes deeply, leaving you with a chill sensation running up your spine. "You intend to travel," Euphoria concludes. "But you lack the means." [["How did you know? Yes, I need to get Downtown."->NunGreet4]] [["That means... credits, yes."->NunGreet4]]

The quiet Sister, this Torean Nun, seems to smile beneath her muzzle. You definitely get the sense of lips shifting beneath the laminate. "As I said, many come to our Convent in dire need. Few *truly* understand what it is they seek... but we can provide. You need credits?" It almost seems strange to discuss such mundanities with this almost otherworldly woman, but she takes to the topic readily. "Credits are but a means to a particular end, and perhaps not even the most appealing end available to you. What you *need* is the opportunity to consider your situation. The Convent can provide both. Indulge me(if: $Slave is true)[, Sister], with a dedication towards reflection and prayer. A few hours. Perhaps that will help you on your path. Even if it does not, the Convent will provide you alms. We offer four programs of prayer: Contemplation, Sensation, and Revelation. Contemplation and Sensation will reward you with 50 credits apiece. Revelation another one hundred... if you make it that far." (set: $NunCon to false)(set: $NunSens to false)(set: $NunPath to false)(set: $NunPick to false) [["That... doesn't sound too bad, actually."->NunGreet5]] [["You said four prayers, but you mentioned only three."->NunGreetAsk]]

Euphoria turns away from you, casting her gaze over one shoulder now. "The Convent has other needs, of course, beyond your own preceptions. We always accept charity, and there is another task we could discuss if you wish." She kneels again in the clearing, head bowing. "But for now? Consider the paths before you. They *are* myriad." [[A quiet breeze blows through the alien trees.->Nun Hub]]

"Perceptive," the Nun notes. "A good sign. The fourth program is Conversion, an entirely different undertaking." Those bright red eyes seem to flash, perhaps a play of light across them. "Are your needs that dire? Perhaps we will see." [["I... understand, I think."->NunGreet5]]

"Perhaps you have noted my collar," the Nun replies, still kneeling. She doesn't even look up. "Much as I have noted your own. Is it not a divine feeling? To be marked so readily as subservient, as a *thing* that can be owned? This is what makes us Sisters, a bond stronger then blood. You may be a Freewomb by designation, but you stray close enough. We perceive all slaves as Sisters." [[Well, now you know.->Nun Hub]]

Sister Euphoria's eyes open, the nun rising in a muted display of fluttering red laminate. "Of course," she replies. "The Convent of Perception is but one sanctum maintained by the Order of the Primrose, but I can address most anything you desire." She leans in, towering above you. "What would you like to ask?" [["What exactly is the Convent of Perception?"->AskCov]] [["What exactly is the Order of the Primrose?"->AskPrim]] [["Something is... strange, about this garden."->AskGarden]] [["How many are in your Order?"->AskOrder]] [["How exactly do men fit into your beliefs?->AskMen]] [["I see you're wear... a collar?"->AskNunSlave]] [["Do you... accept new members?"->AskNew]] [["I have no other questions, currently."->Nun Hub]]

"You may ask... to a degree," the Sister replies, holding up one slender finger. "You are correct in believing Euphoria is not my birth name, nor is it technically a name at all-- it is an eponym, a title of sorts for what we in the Order believe is important. The Vow of Anonymity we take upon entering the Order strips us of our names and past identities, and our eponym change with some frequency." The silence of the grove you both stand in grows momentarily oppressive, thick and foreboding. It passes as Euphoria continues. "The related Vow of Uniformity requires several stays with the Ministry of Improvements, adjusting our bodies towards identicality with each other. Thus the red of my eyes, which it turn symbolizes yet another Vow... but I digress, theology can be quite convoluted and entwined at times. Suffice it to say, that is as much as I can tell you regarding myself. To do more would be to Sin." [["I understand, but I do have other questions?"->Nun Hub]]

Sister Euphoria rises from her kneeling position, sleek and graceful despite the cloak and her heels. She's also considerably taller once you stand before the woman, a fact you cannot help but consider as you look up into those red eyes. "You think you seek the 50 credits I have promised," she replies, mouth just perceptible beneath the laminate of her muzzle. "But perhaps you will find other paths as well, in this pursuit. You will need nothing but an open mind, and several hours to spare. Do you find such terms acceptable?" [["On second thought... let me reconsider."->Nun Hub]] [["Yes I do."->NunContem2]]

The Sister rises, looming above with her red-eyed gaze. A study in contradiction: intense, yet serene. "*Sensation.* Perhaps the most fundamental component of perception. Raw. Primal. Well worth exploration, and for some of our lay adherents... the most commonly repeated program we offer." Stepping towards you, even her gait is carefully considered-- one foot in front of the other, hips swaying back and forth. Alluring. "I do recall promising you 50 credits for experiencing the topic nevertheless.(if: $NunCon is true)[ You have already undergone Contemplation, at the very least you know the nature of our Convent. Some of what you perceive will be familiar, but much will be new.]" [["On second thought... let me reconsider."->Nun Hub]] [["Sign me up."->NunSems2]]

The Nun remains kneeling, her hands clasped before her. Picture-perfect religiosity, in the Torean mold. "Revelation is an intensive program experience, and one that requires some experience with Sensation and Contemplation. Return to me when you have completed the other programs, and we can explore Revelation." [[Prerequisites? Is this a religion or a University?!->Nun Hub]]

The heavy laminate garters running from the Sister's corset to her stockings strain momentarily, as the kneeling woman adjusts her position. She does not open her eyes, despite responding. "We do offer a fourth program, that of Conversion. For obvious reasons, it is a rare day indeed that we come across someone who *needs* guidance down that particular path." Her head bows further. "Prayer and service are the only means to even *approach* such things." [["O-Okay.->Nun Hub]]

(if: $Slave is false)["A simple enough thing," the Sister responds, opening her eyes. They find you as she rises with considerable grace, despite the heavy corset she wore. "One of our Sisters is arriving from another Convent today, via the local transporation hub. We require someone escort her here." Her long sleeves pull apart, revealing the black of her gloves underneath. "Once you return, the Convent will compensate you for the time and effort. 100 credits, perhaps?" [["I've done enough walking today, no thanks.->Nun Hub]] [["Why does she need an escort?->Pickup2]]](if: $Slave is true)["I am sorry, Sister," the Nun responds, opening her eyes. "But the nature of the task requires a freewomb in good standing, and by the laws of this Ringdom you are under too many of the Slave Codes to sate that requirement. If you were to escape your current predicament we could perhaps discuss this again, and the 100 credit reward the Convent is offering. But until then? We can only take solace in our collars." [["I understand".->Nun Hub]]]

The Nun remains kneeling, her head still folded in prayer. "Revelation is not something one embarks upon lightly, (if: $Slave is true)[Sister](else:)[child]. By its very nature, Revelation is a public affair. Display, confession, contemplation, and sensation-- all have a role to play in such a ritual. We do not ask it of the weak-willed." She turns to regard you, her red eyes so vibrant beneath the shadow of her habit. "It *is* something frequently required of members of my Order, however. I can attest to it being a harrowing experience, yet enlightening. We will reward you 100 credits for such an effort, regardless." [["It is, Sister. I wish to walk the path of Revelation."->NunRev2]] [["I should reconsider. Let us discuss something else?"->Nun Hub]]

"I do not," the Sister replies, still kneeling. "Such things require many credits, or influence. We in the Convent take vows of poverty, of service, of anonymity. Thus? Such a pass is beyond us. We utilize the Lead." [[Well, it never hurts to ask.->Nun Hub]]

"The Convent always welcomes donations," she purrs, red eyes suddenly open. Rising, her hands come together at her waist, long sleeves enveloping them. "Our Order is ancient, with many illustrious benefactors. But every small bit helps. And, of course, poverty on Torei has its own *rewards*... How much were you considering?" [["Actually... I don't have enough."->Nun Hub]] (if: $debt is >= 5)[[["5 Credits."->Nun 5]]] (if: $debt is >= 10)[[["10 Credits."->Nun 10]]] (if: $debt is >= 25)[[["25 Credits."->Nun 25]]] (if: $debt is >= 50)[[["50 Credits."->Nun 50]]] (if: $debt is >= 100)[[["100 Credits."->Nun 100]]] (if: $debt is > 1)[[["I want to give everything I have."->Nun All]]]

Your donation is accepted with a nod, Sister Euphoria's red-eyed gaze closing behind deep black lids as she dips her head. "We perceive grace from this donation of 10 credits, and wish you well." (set: $debt to it - 10) [[A good deed done quietly.->Nun Hub]]

Your donation is accepted with a nod and a muzzled smile, Sister Euphoria's red-eyed gaze closing behind deep black lids as she dips her head. "We perceive grace from this donation of 25 credits, and wish you well." (set: $debt to it - 25) [[A good deed done quietly.->Nun Hub]]

Your donation is accepted with a nod and a muzzled smile, Sister Euphoria's red-eyed gaze closing behind deep black lids as she dips her head. "We perceive grace from this donation of 50 credits, and wish you well." (set: $debt to it - 50) [[A good deed done quietly.->Nun Hub]]

Your donation is accepted with a nod and a muzzled smile, Sister Euphoria's red-eyed gaze closing behind deep black lids as she dips her head. Reaching down, she flairs her cloak in a classic Torean reverence. "We perceive grace from this donation of 100 credits, and wish you well." (set: $debt to it - 100) [[A good deed done quietly.->Nun Hub]]

(if: $Strike is < 10)["Do you?" She asks, rhetorically. "I question not your zeal, only your perception. The path you contemplate is long. Arduous. It would be a Sin to omit that I think you *are* suited to it, regardless, but I must recommend you consider the situation further. Walk these Torean streets, speak to its people. Explore. If, as dusk approaches, you still desire this... then speak of it to me again."](if: $Strike is >= 10)["The hour grows late, child." Euphoria rises, red cloak shimmering. "But in your eye, I see conviction. You still wish to discuss this path?"] (if: $Strike is < 10)[[[You nod and leave, to explore and learn more.->Nun Hub]]] (if: $Strike is >= 10)[[["I do."->NunRevFinal2]]] [[You remain unsure, your path unclear. For now you shake your head, stepping back.->Nun Hub]]

"Ah, a proper question to ask, considering where we stand." Sister Euphoria's arms stretch out, the tight cling of most of her uniform offset by the loose draping of her cloak. "You are standing in the vestibule of the Covenent of Perception." She gestures towards a set of doors on the far side of the small clearing, mostly obscured by the wave-like leaf-analogues. "Through there would be our chambers of prayer, open to all those will to submit to a particular program. Contemplation, Sensation, and Revelaton being offered here. Further in would be the Order's chambers, and other more private prayer areas. "The Order maintains a number of Covenants such as this across Torei, each dedicated to a particular ideal and serving a variety of public programs. As a whole the Order is dedicated to achieving Bliss, but approaching such things directly is very difficult. Thus the ideals, where Sisters can contemplate and explore individual facets of the greater whole more readily. Our ideal here, as the name suggests, is *Perception.*" [["That's all I wanted to know, thank you."->AskCon]] [["What exactly do you mean by 'Perception.'"->AskPercp]]

"The Order of the Primrose is greater faith to which I, and all our Sisters, ultimately serve. It is... ancient, from the time of Sharecropping Wars-- the conflict that ultimately broke the majority of the Torean population from AI control. Freed from our Gods, we sought new perspectives, new faiths. One of these became our Order, dedicated to the exploration of *Bliss.* "Pleasure can be easy to find here on Torei, but rarely does that alone bestow contentment. Thus *Bliss*, a sublime state of physical pleasure, mental contentedness, and societal stability. It is divinity incarnate, the goal of every Torean soul. And we assist those seeking Bliss, however can. Alms, prayer, sanctums for study. There is no set path to Bliss, but witht he proper guidance all roads do lead to it. Those that do not we know as Sin." [["Sin? Your Order has a concept of Sin?"->AskSin]] [["Interesting. I want to ask about something else."->AskCon]]

"Ah," she looks up, towards the strange boughs of the nearest tree, and the heavy canopy overhead. "Of course. Were you aware that Torei is a new planet, but most galactic standards? Formed artificially by the AIs, a long time ago by our count, but in a mere blink in the cosmic eye. These... let us call them trees are from that primordial time. Have you noticed how they seem to stop... everything? Wind, sound, *perception.* We believe they were originally bred by the AI Gods to shield their first agricultural work upon the surface." Reaching out, Euphoria uses a gloved hand to grab a wave-like branch. It snaps with only the barest of effort, as if sheared off. "They are brittle, but resiliant to weather. And with such strange properties. These days only a few copses exist out in the Badlands. Those who travel such paths call them *Silent Escorts* given how often they are found watching over patches of water. Here at the Convent, they serve much the same purpose-- escorting us Sisters from the predations of sin." [["Sin? Your Order has a concept of Sin?"->AskSin]] [["Interesting. I want to ask about something else."->AskCon]]

"Our Order is old, but not very large," the Sister muses, the fullness of her chest made evident as she folds an arm beneath, resting her other on its elbow as she does some quick math with her free hand. "Perhaps five thousand, across the surface of Torei. We *do* have a claim to being widespread, at the very least. Serving at a Convent here, so close to the Way Up, is quite a different experience from a Convent deep in the Antipodes." [["Interesting, I have other question.->AskCon]]

"Are you asking if we have male members in our Order?" She asks, seeking clarification. "Or our believes regarding masculinity?" [["If you have male members."->AskMale]] [["Your overall beliefs, regarding masculinity."->AskMasc]] [["Actually... let me think about it, I have other questions."->AskCon]]

The collar in question is tight against her throat, thinner along the top and flaring a bit towards the shoulders. It doesn't look comfortable. "You are asking if I am a slave," she deduces, tilting her head slightly to the side. Her hood follows, running down her back like glossy hair. "I am. All members of the Order are." Lifting her arms allows the long sleeves to slide down somewhat, revealing cuffs locked onto her wrists. A second set is visible on her ankles. "When a prospective Sister joins the Order as a Noviatiate, she is enslaved to our Benefactor. It's a temporary arrangement at first, but upon one's Confirmation it is made both lifelong and irreversible. Thus we commit ourselves wholely to the exploration of Bliss, and the rejection of Sin. It is the Vow of Service, but just one of many we must take-- others being the Vow of Poverty, the Vow of Femininity, and the Voew of Anonymity. There are optional ones as well, such as the Vow of Silence, or that of Chastity." [["Did you mention a 'Benefactor'?"->AskBenny]] [["Interesting. I want to ask about something else, though."->AskCon]]

"The Path to Bliss is always open, for those with the conviction to walk it," Euphoria replies, blinking slowly. It's not hard to imagine she must be quite beautiful beneath that muzzle. "We offer that program, that of Conversion, here. But it is a hard path, and most Novitiates drop out when given the opportunity just prior to Confirmation." Her lithe shoulders rise and fall, a a serene shrug. "But if you work through our programs, and if you think you have the resolve, perhaps we could discuss it more later." [[Not exactly a glowing endorsement, but a viable path nevertheless? "I want to ask about something else."->AskCon]]

"Mhm," the red-eyed woman purrs. "A good question. And often debated here, in these very halls. Perception is much like a triangle, I believe. Three sided, each component necessary to maintain the whole, but abstract and strange-- mere lines-- without the others." The Sister mimics drawing a triangle in the space between you, her black gloves so very dark against the red of her cloak sleeve. "The first side is how we perceive ourselves, both via the sensations we experience, and through our individual acts of judgement. The second side is how others perceive us, and much akin to the first-- split between that which others observe, and how they react to our choices. And the third? That one is more... theoretical. Difficult to grasp. It is the sense of perception we have for what our *other* senses have already perceived. An... esotoric concept, but one I think can be explained with an example. Imagine you have cut your hand. The first side is the pain you feel, and how you worry others will react to such a wound. The second side is the *actual* reaction others have, and how they *think* you feel about the cut. The third side, then, is how you perceive that sensation of pain, of concern for others. Are you scared? Ashamed? Angry?" Her gloved hands collect again before her waist. "Thus... *perception.*" [["I see...->AskCon]]

"We do." The Sister looks down at you, momentarily searching your eyes. Whatever she's looking for, she doesn't find it. "Sin is the antithesis of bliss. The abolisment of pleasure, dissatisfaction of the mind, or chaos in society. It is something to avoid, to abhor from afar. But that is not always possible, and in *those* circumstances corrective action must be taken." It's a firm line, yet delivered without a break in the Sister's serene attitude. "We recognize the Order cannot take sides, however. Cannot fix the world. Thus we address only that which we can-- our Sisters. Those outside of it we merely guide. The same is applied to the Ringdoms we inhabit, we do not seek to upset their laws or means of governance." [["Hmm, I see. I want to ask about something else."->AskCon]]

The Nun nods, the thick septum ring piercing her nose shifting slightly. "Another ancient tradition. Legal traditions in most Ringdoms hold that for one to be a Slave, there must be a Master. Our Benefactor would be that Master, although few Sisters ever actually meet him. He is a Lord in an Antipodal Ringdom, and rarely travels. We Sisters actually operate the Order, and manage ourselves according to our own Hierarchy." [["Every slave a master, it does make sense, I suppose. I have other questions."->AskCon]]

"We do not," Euphoria explains matter-of-factly. "Unlike some religious sects, we are not so traditionalist that we reject the notion of male slavery as a *concept*, but the Order is open only to women." [["Your overall beliefs, regarding masculinity then?."->AskMasc]] [["Actually... let me think about it, I have other questions."->AskCon]]

"The Order of the Primrose is of Torei, a necessity given our divine task. Bliss is formed by its surrounding circumstances, after all, making its presence on each planet virtually unique. Thus our views on gender are somewhat traditionalist, following Torean standards. We are of the view that, as women, we are by nature subservient. Beings of sensuality. Requiring guidance and direction, the sort only a collar can provide. We are at our best on our knees, submitting to the masculine." [["And, do you have male members?"->AskMale]] [["The greater galaxy does not hold to those views, at ALL."->AskMasc2]] [["Actually... let me think about it, I have other questions."->AskCon]]

"The Order is quite aware," the much taller woman replies, unfaltering despite the potential sensitivity of the issue. "The introduction of the greater galactic community to our planet has not shifted our views on this matter, however. The Vow of Femininity addresses the subject directly." [["I have other questions."->AskCon]]

"Then follow me." Crossing the small clearing in which you had found her, the Sister leads you to where the strange trees ran up against the wall-- revealing a door obscured by a few wayward growths. Pushing it aside, she uses one hand to open the door, her other gesturing for you to enter. The door yawns deep and black, the subdued shadow of the garden descending into inky nothingness within. [[You step into the midnight.->NunContem3]]

(if: $NunSens is true)[You have been within the Convent before, and know some of what comes next. Behind you Euphoria closes the door, stripping the world of its last vestiges of light. Darkess greets you, then overwhelms, leaving you blind. But the Sister takes her position behind, hands on your shoulders. Your guidance through this world of darkness.](else:)[You stand in a rectangle of light, the last vestiges of the world outside dwindling. Even those are wiped clean as Euphoria enters behind you, dragging shut the heavy door. With its closure, you're plunged into a darkness more absolute then you had thought possible. All encompassing. "This Convent is dedicated to Perception," the Sister explains, her hands falling on your shoulders. Even whispering, her voice in your ear booms in the absolute silence. "To better approach that ideal, we strip ourselves of all competing distractions. Perception is as much what you do *not* perceive as that which you do." The hands on your shoulders tighten slightly. "Through my service, I have been made capable of guiding you," she intones, as you begin to walk. The ground is some hard surface, but that's all you can tell. "Our space for Contemplation is not far." If you were expecting your eyes to adjust, they do not. There are no windows, no portals to the outside beyond the one you entered. Just *darkness*, and the laminate-clad Sister behind you. It's only then you recognize, with sudden distraction, how *she* saw. Those eyes, so unnaturally red. Implants or something less invasive, it did not matter-- her vision had clearly been altered for just such environments.] [[Accept her guidance.->NunContem4]]

As promised, it's not long before you begin to hear other things. The sharp report of heeled boots upon the floor first, followed by the occasional sound of doors closing, of quiet voices in discussion or repeating verses before they're sealed off again. Were you entering into... smaller rooms, perhaps? *Cells?* The Sister breaks you from your wonderings, your fears. "We approach your room. Within it we will find a prayer frame, a device we use to ensure your body's posture follows your mind in total Contemplation. You need only follow my instructs as we install you for the duration of this program. Is that understood?" [[Shake your head yes.->NunContem5]] [["S-Sure..."->NunContem5]]

Could a Sister of Euphoria's Order lie? Would that be a Sin? You're not giving the chance to question such things as her word proves true, the hiss of a door opening being followed by an order to halt, then kneel. The *prayer frame*, as the Sister had named it, you obviously cannot see. But as you're positioned, then strapped in, you at least get the sense of a metal frame to which a series of cuffs and chains are attached. You in turn are attached to *them*, forcing you into the prescribed position for Contemplation. Kneeling, your head is forced down by the collar, eyes fixated on a floor you cannot see. (if: $Level is > 1)[Your armbinder is likewise locked into place in an uncomfortable, slightly raised position behind you.](else:)[Your hands are locked to seperate poles, then maneuvered closer, your palms connecting in a classic example of steeple-fingered prayer.] Further down your knees are spread, the cuffed to the floor. It's an ingeniously simple setup, requiring only a few minutes to secure you, and then giving little in the way of movement afterward-- even straining you cannot shift from the posture of prayer now enforced upon you. [[And then...?->NunContem6]]

Then Euphoria leaves, closing the door on the way out. It locks with a harsh *click.* She explains nothing, nor does she instruct you further. Instead you are left to the dark, to the silence, to your enforced posture, and your own thoughts. *Contemplation* at its most pure. [[What is happening to me?->NunC1]] [[Where am I?->NunC2]] [["Hello?"->NunC3]]

Good question. You're locking into a prayer restraint, your body covered in tight laminate. (if: $Blue is true)[You're covered in cuffs and collared, a belt around your waist ensuring you can be hooked to all manner of devices.] (if: $Smoke is true)[And it's semi-transparent, what little remained of your modesty given its cling utterly destroyed by that. Not to mention the belt around your waist ensuring you can be hooked to all manner of devices.] (if: $Brand is true)[You're covered in advertisements for slavery, strictly corseted and eternally perched on your toes.] (if: $Sec is true)[You're dressed like the office slut, in a clingy bodice and skirt that showed off so much leg.] (if: $Slave is true)[You're dressed as a slave, all black laminate. Strictly corseted, and masked so that your breath is not even your own.] (if: $Level is > 1)[Your arms are restrained](if: $Level is > 2)[, your nipples pierced]. This is not your first bit of bondage and depravity, nor will it be your last. Torei is *getting to you.* [[No its not!->NunD1]] [[I know...->NunD2]]

No one answers. How could they? You just *know* the room is sound-proofed. All you have is the occasional clink as you shift in your restraints, and your own breathing as you consider your situation. (if: $Blue is true)[You're covered in cuffs and collared, a belt around your waist ensuring you can be hooked to all manner of devices.] (if: $Smoke is true)[And it's semi-transparent, what little remained of your modesty given its cling utterly destroyed by that. Not to mention the belt around your waist ensuring you can be hooked to all manner of devices.] (if: $Brand is true)[You're covered in advertisements for slavery, strictly corseted and eternally perched on your toes.] (if: $Sec is true)[You're dressed like the office slut, in a clingy bodice and skirt that showed off so much leg.] (if: $Slave is true)[You're dressed as a slave, all black laminate. Strictly corseted, and masked so that your breath is not even your own.] (if: $Level is > 1)[Your arms are restrained](if: $Level is > 2)[, your nipples pierced]. This is not your first bit of bondage and depravity, nor will it be your last. Torei is *getting to you.* [[No its not!->NunD1]] [[I know...->NunD2]]

Good question. In the belly of a perverted convent, forced into prayer. (if: $Blue is true)[You're covered in cuffs and collared, a belt around your waist ensuring you can be hooked to all manner of devices.] (if: $Smoke is true)[And it's semi-transparent, what little remained of your modesty given its cling utterly destroyed by that. Not to mention the belt around your waist ensuring you can be hooked to all manner of devices.] (if: $Brand is true)[You're covered in advertisements for slavery, strictly corseted and eternally perched on your toes.] (if: $Sec is true)[You're dressed like the office slut, in a clingy bodice and skirt that showed off so much leg.] (if: $Slave is true)[You're dressed as a slave, all black laminate. Strictly corseted, and masked so that your breath is not even your own.] (if: $Level is > 1)[Your arms are restrained](if: $Level is > 2)[, your nipples pierced]. This is not your first bit of bondage and depravity, nor will it be your last. Torei is *getting to you.* [[No its not!->NunD1]] [[I know...->NunD2]]

Liar. Your memory may be punched full of holes, but you recall enough to know this is *not* normal. Out there, in the greater galaxy beyond, you were proud! Strong! An independent prospector, a modern day treasure hunter living among the fringes of known space. A pioneer, an explorer. What are you now? One of the undoubted millions locked into some bondage device on Torei, legs spread, eyes down. The bondage, the humiliation, the laminate-- you've submitted to it all, bit by bit. And it's getting easier. Or... was it always this easy? What exactly do you remember from your fragments of the... *week* before? [["Who are you?"->NunD3]]

Good girl. Your memory may be punched full of holes, but you recall enough to know this is *not* normal. Out there, in the greater galaxy beyond, you were proud! Strong! An independent prospector, a modern day treasure hunter living among the fringes of known space. A pioneer, an explorer. What are you now? One of the undoubted millions locked into some bondage device on Torei, legs spread, eyes down. The bondage, the humiliation, the laminate-- you've submitted to it all, bit by bit. And it's getting easier. Or... was it always this easy? What exactly do you remember from your fragments of the... *week* before? [["Who are you?"->NunD3]]

It's so much easier to focus without glistening bodies walking by, without staring eyes upon you in turn. Start from the beginning. You remember the ride on the Space Elevator, the fabled Way Up... you were going *down*, right? Or were you truly taking the *way up?* Returning to the stars... or escaping to them for the first time? The tenth? You have no way to remember. Perhaps this *isn't* your first week on the planet. Others have commented on it, how easily you have taken the roles "forced" upon you. Isn't everything easier with practice? Now that would be something. An alternate theory, at the very least. Mem-Burn isn't the only means of changing one's memories on this planet, after all. Much stronger options exist, the sort that blanked out *years*, leaving only those so very far back-- and those most recent, somewhat damaged. Did you really check your room as thoroughly as you think you did? If you *had* been planetside before, as a tourist, on another prospecting mission, or something else entirely-- that would make your ID a fake at the very least. An assumed identity, a shadowy deal in motion. Perhaps it *was* illegal. Or dangerous. Or both. [["Either way, why would you bind yourself in your bedroom?"->NunD4]]

You're not sure, hell, you're not really sure of anything right now. Perhaps it hadn't been you, but someone else. "But if it *had* been you?" Then the selfbondage must have been intended to keep you there, until the countdown had ended-- tomorrow, beyond the date of the deal, before your ticket on the Way Up expired. A narrow window, with a singular purpose. Had you tried to stop yourself from completing the Black Card's deal? "Something to contemplate further, I think." Wait... [[That wasn't you, that was a voice in the room... Euphoria. "Hello?"->NunD5]]

"Hello, dear." It *was* her. Had she snuck back in? *How much of what you had just said had been at her prompting?* "You do not need to worry," the Sister continues, her gloved hand finding your chin. Her touch is soft, warm. "It happens to everyone, their first couple times. Denied so much of what we normally perceive, our minds wander. Play tricks on us. Do you know what time it is? You've been in here for *hours." [["And was I speaking aloud?"->NunD6]]

The hand on your chin drifts down, and begins to undo your bindings. It's only then you realize just how sore you had become. Your muscles certainly attested to hours having passed. "Yes," she admits readily. "We explored something you *needed* to contemplate, with a bit of guidance on my part. A memory in such a state is liable to Sin. You must be careful, whatever you choose to do going forward." A final buckle frees you, and the Nun guides you upward, once again placing her hands on your shoulders for further direction through the fathomless black. "You have my full confidentiality, regardless. What we speak of in Contemplation is not to be repeated." [["We never finished, we never figured out who I am."->NunD7]]

"Contemplation rarely brings conclusion," Euphoria replies, guiding you through the sanctum of the Convent. "But you have several possibilites. You are either here for your first week, and merely... well attuned to Torei. Or this is *not* your first time, and your dealings on this planet are less straightforward. Then this note you hold, this Black Card? Either you tried to keep yourself from following through on the deal, or someone else did and tried to hide that truth." You can feel the heavy shackles on her wrists as she directs you around what must have been a corner. "What happened *then* may very well be determined by your *Perception* of the now." She pulls somewhere to your right, and suddenly the darkness breaks-- light. [[You're back at the Front Door.->NunD8]]

You emerge back out into the shadowed garden. Compared to the absolute silence of the Convent, the garden seems almost alive with sound and light as you reaccustom yourself to a world beyond darkness. Euphoria does not ask more of you, but merely returns to her kneeling position at the center of the small clearing. As her hands fold together, she speaks once more. "I hope you found Contemplation to be worthwhile. The 50 credits will be in your account." (set: $debt to it + 50)(set: $NunCon to true) [["Thank you."->Nun Hub]] [[Step back and away...->Nun Hub]]

*Your body walks as your mind wakes, a rising tide of consciousness...* {**Slot A:** (if: (saved-games:) contains "file A")[ (link: "((Load your saved game))")[(load-game: "file A")] ] (else:)[ *empty slot* ]} {**Slot B:** (if: (saved-games:) contains "file B")[ (link: "((Load your saved game))")[(load-game: "file B")] ] (else:)[ *empty slot* ]} {**Slot C:** (if: (saved-games:) contains "file C")[ (link: "((Load your saved game))")[(load-game: "file C")] ] (else:)[ *empty slot* ]} [[You're mistaken, a fresh start is needed instead. Return to the start of all things.->Startup]]

"Follow, child." Crossing the small clearing in which you had found her, the Sister leads you to where the strange trees ran up against the wall-- revealing a door obscured by a few wayward growths. Pushing it aside, she uses one hand to open the door, her other gesturing for you to enter. The door yawns deep and black, an abyssal void. [[You step into the maw.->NunSens3]]

(if: $NunCon is true)[You have been within the Convent before, and know some of what comes next. Behind you Euphoria closes the door, stripping the world of its last vestiges of light. Darkess greets you, then overwhelms, leaving you blind. But the Sister takes her position behind, hands on your shoulders. Your guidance through this world of darkness.](else:)[You stand in a rectangle of light, the last vestiges of the world outside dwindling. Even those are wiped clean as Euphoria enters behind you, dragging shut the heavy door. With its closure, you're plunged into a darkness more absolute then you had thought possible. All encompassing. "This Convent is dedicated to Perception," the Sister explains, her hands falling on your shoulders. Even whispering, her voice in your ear booms in the absolute silence. "To better approach that ideal, we strip ourselves of all competing distractions. Perception is as much what you do *not* perceive as that which you do." The hands on your shoulders tighten slightly. "Through my service, I have been made capable of guiding you," she intones, as you begin to walk. The ground is some hard surface, but that's all you can tell. "Our space for Contemplation is not far." If you were expecting your eyes to adjust, they do not. There are no windows, no portals to the outside beyond the one you entered. Just *darkness*, and the laminate-clad Sister behind you. It's only then you recognize, with sudden distraction, how *she* saw. Those eyes, so unnaturally red. Implants or something less invasive, it did not matter-- her vision had clearly been altered for just such environments.] [[Accept her guidance.->NunSens4]]

As you traverse the gloom, blind to the world, sounds soon rise to meet you. Whispers of... ecstasy. Hungry panting, laminate being strained against, the muffled moan. It grows louder with your every step until you're enveloped in what could only be a gagged orgy. Even so, Euphoria keeps her voice low, whispering in your ear. "We have arrived at *Sensation*, as you no doubt can perceive. You will find pleasure here, great deals of it. But a lesson too, hopefully. We have stripped you of sight, and other such restrictions will follow. Voids in your perception, into which Sensation will enter. Are you ready?" [["Y-Yes."->NunSens5]] [["What exactly are you going to do to me?"->NunSens5]]

"You will be locked into a position of prayer," she explains, guiding you towards the floor. Indeed, you can feel a system of steel poles and heavy cuffs. She works you into them slowly, securing each in turn. Kneeling, your head is forced down by the collar, eyes fixated on a floor you cannot see. (if: $Level is > 1)[Your armbinder is likewise locked into place in an uncomfortable, slightly raised position behind you.](else:)[Your hands are locked to seperate poles, then maneuvered closer, your palms connecting in a classic example of steeple-fingered prayer.] Further down your knees are spread, then cuffed to the floor. (if: $Sec is true)[As almost an afterthought, she then proceeds to hike up your skirt.] "(if: $Slave is true)[Most are gagged, but your mask prevents this, Sister. So you will moan for all to hear."](else:)[You will be gagged." It's barely a warning as you feel a gloved finger at your lips, tapping there. When you open, something between a ball and a phallic rod is quickly slide inside, lodging between your teeth. It tastes of laminate and fills your mouth, pressing down upon your tongue. You feel further laminate being pulled over your head, a panel and harness that undoubtedly fit much the same as the muzzle Euphoria herself wore-- only she was *not* gagged.] Somewhere to your left, another woman can be heard moaning louding into her own gag. Clearly, she's climaxing. Euphoria remains unperturbed. "The final component is your source of sensation. Are you prepared?" (if: $Slave is true)[[["Yes..."->NunSens6]]](else:)[[["Mmmgh."->NunSens6]]]

The pitch black of the Convent prevents you from seeing the Sister's movements, but you *can* sense her sliding something between your kneeling, spread legs moments before you actually feel it. It's somewhat round, padded along the portions that contact against your thighs. The component that rises at its apex, however, pressing against your womanhood? That's angular, rounded. An extended portion along the very front even reaches higher, seeking your clit. (if: $Blue is true or $Brand is true or $Smoke is true)[And to ensure it is found, Euphoria pulls down your zipper.] (if: $Slave is true)[It's impossible to ignore the sensation of your plugs pressed up against the hard portions of whatever the device is, and you cannot help but shift your hips, grinding into it with wet desire.](else:)[Immediately the device enters your wet cunt, sliding past eager lips. It doesn't travel terribly deep, but it's not something you could not possibly ignore.] Especially once it starts vibrating. (if: $Slave is true)[[["Oh, yes...!"->NunSens7]]](else:)[[["Hmmhgh!"->NunSens7]]]

Euphoria's hand briefly strokes along your head, then she's gone. And you're left only with *Sensation.* The device between your legs is not gentle, it does not tease. It *churns*, pressing into your (if: $Slave is true)[plugs](else:)[cunt], drowning it in ecstatic vibrations. Your body strains against its enforced posture of prayer of its own accord, acting in vain against heavy cuffs and thick steel. You moan loudly, adding your (if: $Slave is true)[voice](else:)[gagged voice], to the symphony of ecstasy that surrounds you on every side. How many others joined you in this? Perhaps dozens, although its impossible to tell. Their voices are lost to you momentarily anyway as you climax, cumming hard against the vibrating device. It doesn't respond, but keeps it pace, allowing you only a short afterglow before the Sensations build again... (if: $Slave is true)[[[Take a deep breath through your mask.->NunSens8]]](else:)[[["Mmmghhh..."->NunSens8]]]

Pleasure unending. It's a fate you must confront blind, forced into a posture of prayer. You cannot control the sensations, and you cannot escape them. They merely *are*. Whatever remained of your self-restraint soon slips through your fingers, as does your sense of time. Everything is washed away by the buzz between your legs, the heady rush of endorphins that come as your cunt is put through its paces again, and again, and again... [[You moan, then shift your hips, seeking out the Sensation despite it all.->NunSens9]]

You're not sure when exactly you realize it, time having become a nebulous construct to your ecstasy-riddled mind after all, but somewhere along the way you *do* sense a change. Not in yourself, the pleasure between your legs continues to build and build until it bursts-- but in those around you. They too were riding the high of their bondage, their prayer, their Sensations in *exactly* the same cycle as you're experiencing. There are differences, of course, especially among those you hear brought it in after you. Their gagged climaxes come quicker, rushing to screams of pleasure that take your now more well-worked cunt longer to reach. But as time goes on, passing in whatever handfuls or leaps it was, everything seems to... sync up. The purr of your devices, the strained moans you emit, the squirming orgasms. A dozens, dozens-- however many different souls, all brought into unison by this simple, primal act. This *Sensation.* [[You cum with them.->NunSens10]]

"Understanding," a voice suddenly whispers, so near. After... so long without other stimuli, it nearly hurts to hear. "I see it in your body, your expression. You have reached a conclusion. The lesson becomes evident." (if: $Slave is true)[Her hand glides along your masked cheek.](else:)[Her hand glides along your cheek, then carefully unbuckles and pulls forth your gag. You feel a line of drool dripping down your chin.] "Speak it." [["W-We are... all one, together..."->NunSens11A]] [["Perception can be... c-can be shared..."->NunSens11B]] [["T-This is... our s-shared... f-femininity..."->NunSens11C]]

You orgasm moments after the answer, shivering in your bindings from the experience. The woman before you gently strokes your head. "A good start, but go *deeper*." She may not have meant it as a command, but your body would obey most anything at that moment. Your hips shift, pressing the device deeper into your cunt. [["Perception can be... c-can be shared..."->NunSens11B]] [["T-This is... our s-shared... f-femininity..."->NunSens11C]]

"Indeed..." the owner of the voice, Sister Euphoria purrs. "A *shared* sensation can be so much more powerful then one experienced alone. Something to remember." She pauses momentarily, perhaps watching you squirm, before continuing. "What I will do next will feel cruel-- I am going to remove your sybian." At first you balk, as if stopping the vibrations between your legs could ever be cruel. Yet when she follows through, sliding the device back out, you're left with something unexpected-- a static sense of *emptiness*. Had you ever truly existed without the device? [["P-Put it back, g-give me more..."->NunSens12Refuse]] [["T-Thank you..."->NunSens12]]

"Indeed..." the owner of the voice, Sister Euphoria purrs. "On Torei, a woman can lead a thousand different lives. Be a freewomb, a slave. A concubine, and heirmaker. But that does not change our basic femininity. Our shared weakness, our sensuality..." She pauses momentarily, perhaps watching you squirm, before continuing. "What I will do next will feel cruel-- I am going to remove your sybian." At first you balk, as if stopping the vibrations between your legs could ever be cruel. Yet when she follows through, sliding the device back out, you're left with something unexpected-- a static sense of *emptiness*. Had you ever truly existed without the device? [["P-Put it back, g-give me more..."->NunSens12Refuse]] [["T-Thank you..."->NunSens12]]

Sister Euphoria's voice is empathetic, but firm. "No. Your lesson has concluded, and your body is overwhelmed. In the face of such sensations, it lies. You need time to recover." (if: $Slave is true)[Her hand slips between your legs, pressing gently against your sealed cunt. You nearly cum again. "Plugs are a blessing, and a terrible burden. You must be strong, Sister."](else:)[Her hand slips between your legs, pressing gently against the lips of cunt. You're wet, dripping on the floor. "I know, I know," she cooes. "But it must be done.] [[You moan quietly.->NunSens12]]

The Sister remains with you as you slide back down from such peaked ecstasy, returning to someting approaching normalcy despite the orgasmic chorus that still surrounds. It's hard not to be jealous of them. (if: $Blue is true)[Eventually she reaches between your legs, and closes your zipper. Once again your blue laminate is sealed.] (if: $Smoke is true)[Eventually she reaches between your legs, and closes your zipper. Once again your smokey laminate is sealed, but you're still very much on display.] (if: $Brand is true)[Eventually she reaches between your legs, and closes your zipper. Once again your branded laminate is sealed, but your corset still embraces so tightly, and your toes ache.] (if: $Sec is true)[Eventually she reaches towards your hips, sliding your skirt back down as much as possible.] (if: $Slave is true)[Eventually she reaches between your legs, running her palm one last time against your sealed cunt before pulling away.] Unlocking you from the prayer device is quick enough, but it takes some time for your shaking legs to support your weight. Only then does Euphoria guide you through the darkness, heading back the way you came. The sounds of *Sensation* grow quieter and quieter, until the they cease altogether. [[Good riddance...->NunSens13]] [[You already miss it.->NunSens13]]

Eventually she reaches to your side, pulling on something that responds with a mechanical crunch. Light emerges before you, bright and glaring. You emerge back out into the shadowed garden. Compared to the absolute silence of the Convent, the garden seems almost alive with sound and light as you reaccustom yourself to a world beyond darkness. Euphoria does not ask more of you, but merely returns to her kneeling position at the center of the small clearing. As her hands fold together, she speaks once more. "As I promised, there is something like *Bliss* to be found in Sensation. But I hope you learned something as well. Either way, I have deposited 50 credits in your account, child." (set: $debt to it + 50)(set: $NunSens to true) [["It was... a lesson indeed."->Nun Hub]] [[Step back and away...->Nun Hub]]

"Then we must speak of Sin." She rises, casting you in further shadow as she stands above you. It's a position that makes her piercing stare all the more intensive, as if she really could see deep into your soul. What did she find there? "We have spoken of Sin during the path of Contemplation, although indirectly. What do you recall of it?" [["Regarding my... memory?"->NunRev3]] [["I'm not sure what you mean."->NunRev3]]

"We discussed your memories, yes-- and your lack of concrete purpose. Your struggle between what you perceive to be, and what likely is. But that is a symptom of your Sin, not the Sin itself. Remember that Sin is the antithesis of Bliss, the rejection of your natural self. Recall your experiences, your perception of your role in this world." [["My sin... are you referring to my lack of... place? As an offworlder new to this world, or someone very experienced...?"->NunRev4]] [["My sin... are you referring the Black Card, my confusion regarding my own intent?"->NunRev4]]

"Go further," she prompts. [["The... totality of it. Everything? Is that what you mean? That my Sin is the struggle between what I have perceived, and how readily I respond to it? The... way my body responds to laminate, to bondage? That I have felt shame and yet... and yet..."->NunRev5]]

Sister Euphoria collects her hands before her carefully, bowing her head in a display of reverent approval. "...and yet you cannot avoid what you perceive as ultimately desirable. Come." She guides you towards the now familiar doors, and the black abyss within. Once more you are plunged into that eternal solitude, but this time when the Nun takes your shoulders, guiding you, she directs you further back into the Convent. Far further then you had gone before. Along the way you sense several other forms that flank you, exchanging whispered words with Euphoria. Despite your proximity, you catch only the odd syllable. Clearly they're quite experienced in the quiet of the Convent. "We are here," Euphoria finally prompts, raising her voice. You glance around, but the darkness is the same as any other-- beyond your ability to perceive. "My Sisters will assist us in yout assuming the proper position for prayer. You need not do anything more than endure, and set a proper example for the others. Is that understood?" [["The... others?"->NunRev6B]] [["Yes, Sister."->NunRev6]]

Unlike your previous experiences, you are not directed towards the floor. Instead the myriad of gloved hands that slide across your laminate body direct you to remain standing, stepping forward towards what an errant bump of your leg reveals to be a pole emerging vertically from the floor. "Child," a new voice instructs, "(if: $Slave is true)[Your plugs will remain in, but we will be positioning this bar between your legs, pressing up against them. *Hard.*"](else:)[There is a pole before you, atop which is a phallic device. We will be installing you upon it."] You're not given the opportunity to resist, not this far in. Instead several sets of hands merely guide you forward, making good on their promise. In short order the pole is placed, then risen-- pressing up between your legs. When they add chains to cuffs at your ankles, enforcing a wide stance, you quickly find yourself unable to pull free of the pole. You simply lack the slack to lift your torso off the device. It's a prison of sorts, deviously simple. Other restraints follow. (if: $Slave is true)[Already masked, they install some manner of additional filter over your oxygen intake-- making your already difficult breathing a continuous labor, your lungs screaming from the effort.](else:)[A gag much like the muzzle-like device Euphoria wore is installed, a laminate intruder entering your mouth as other components cover your lips and chin, encapsulating and gripping your entire jaw in slick laminate.] (if: $Level is 0 or 1)[Your arms are next, forced behind you in an excruciating manner, palms coming together at the small of your back-- a reverse prayer, where they are secured. The angle naturally forces your head down, the pain that comes with trying to raise it impossible to overcome for more then a few moments.](if: $Level is > 1)[Your armbinder is linked to some manner of descending chain, forcing it up in a way that requires your head to remain bowed-- the pain that comes with trying to raise it impossible to ovecome for more then a few moments.] (if: $Slave is true)[[[You shift your hips, the pole between your legs shifting your plugs in a truly frustrating fashion.->NunRev7]]](else:)[[["Mmmgh...->NunRev7]]]

One last bit of preparation comes in the form of a hard, rounded object being pressed against your womanhood-- just before and above the pole, against your clit. You have enough experience by now to realize what it was before one of the Sisters clicks it on, but hearty hum that rises confirms it regardless-- a vibrating wand, undoubtedly held against your immobile form by an extended boom arm. And it feels *good*. (if: $Slave is true)[By rolling your hips forward you can induce a stronger buzz against your front plug, but it's a hard position to hold, your corset interfering. Neither does your mask, the additional restrictions placed upon your breathing already leaving you to pant-- after a few moments you're almost hyperventilating, trying desperately to seek out the pleasure even as you all but suffocate.](else:)[By rolling your hips forward you can place the vibrator directly against the cock buried deep between your legs, inducing an immediate purr that runs up your entire spine. Had your restraints not held you up you're liable to have collapsed right there, your panting indicative of a pleasure that almost immediately pushed your body to the limit.] Euphoria's voice remains near, her soothing touch on your hip, your thigh. "Peace, (if: $Slave is true)[Sister](else:)[child]. You have yet to even truly begin your Revelation. Are you ready?" That hand on your body slips further down, circling the vibrating wand's tip, tickling the laminate and flesh beneath already so primed by your intruder and the vibrations upon it. "Beg for it." (if: $Slave is true)[[[P-P-Please... S-Sister...->NunRev8YES]]](else:)[[["Mmmgh... Pplhggh!"->NunRev8YES]]] (if: $Slave is true)[[[N-N-No... I... I c-can't...->NunRev8NO]]](else:)[[[You shake your head feebly. "Nnmmgh."->NunRev8NO]]]

The Nun's response is immediate. "Revelation is about disclosure as much as it is your own personal experience." She does not elaborate further. [["Great."->NunRev6]]

Your prayers are answered by blinding light. The darkness of the Convent is *broken* by light bright enough to force your eyes close, tears emerging from the sudden pain that follows. Afterward you blink, bleary eyes trying desperately to adjust to your changed circumstances. It's not an easy transition. The light focuses, becoming less all-encompassing until you can at least determine it had a source-- the wall before you, previously black as anything else, had change. It is now a rectangular portal, perhaps six meters wide by two meters tall. And there are *things* moving past it. People. It is not a portal to some other world, but a *window*, having made transparent what had once been opaque. A window looking out onto what could only be the street behind the Convent, much the same as the one you had entered from: an empty street but busy sidewalks, so many in glossy laminate. Passing by, yes... but suddenly looking at you. **Revelation.** (set: $TransportCheck to 0) [[You look around.->RevHub]]

"It's much too late for doubts." That's not Euphoria, but another voice, off somewhere in the darkness to your left. "Give her a moment." They don't have to wait long. Without your eyes to see, your other senses are stronger-- or at the very least more focused. And nothing overawes like the steady burn between your legs, a sensation you are incapable of escaping. To your credit, you do try, pulling hard against the prayer frame, trying to free your arms. When they fails you attempt at least to raise your eyes, to seek out something besides what could only be the humility of the floor below. But you can't. You can't pull your arms free, you cannot rise your head, and you *cannot* deny the fire between your legs. When Euphoria speaks again, you struggle to determine just how much time had passed. Seconds? Minutes? More? **"Beg for it."** And you do. (if: $Slave is true)[[[P-P-Please... S-Sister...->NunRev8YES]]](else:)[[["Mmmgh... Pplhggh!"->NunRev8YES]]]

You're bound, armbs behind your back and legs spread, restraining pole and vibrator pressed into your womanhood. Passersby outside stop, several lingering at the window before you, observing your Revelation. [[Look out the Window.->RevWin]] [[Look to your Left.->RevNuns]] [[Look to your Right.->RevEuphoria]] [[Look at your reflection.->RevSign]] [[Struggle.->RevStrug]] [[Pray.->RevPray]] [[Moan.->RevMoan]] (if: $TransportCheck is > 5)[[[Cum.->RevCum]]]

Your restraints prevent much movement, but your eyes can make up some of the difference as you try to look to your left. The window to the world beyond does not go forever, but the darkness of the Convent is intensive-- where the shadow returns you can make out few details. Only that would stood in the halo of light created by the window itself is apparent, and it's here that you notice several other Sisters of the Order of the Primrose. Like Euphoria they wear uniforms of black and color, but the latter components do vary-- one is red as you expect, but two others are white. They each have deep, saturated eye colors to match their uniforms, but their the differences end-- and indeed its their similarity that is most stark. So dressed they are difficult to otherwise tell apart, and their proportions are all but identical. Hands clasped before their full chests, palms together, they appear to be praying. (set: $TransportCheck to it + 1) [[You moan quietly.->RevNuns2]]

You fight your restraints, and manage--barely-- to look to your right. There a solitary figure stands, her uniform indistinct, but you've talked to her enough to recognize Euphoria regardless. Her hood still pastes a shadow across her eyes, but you can see those red pupils looking out, observing those who pass by. It's a scene that passes quickly, the Sister's head dipping slightly as she reaches down and flairs her cloak, spreading her legs. (if: $PlayE is true)[You recognize the Torean *reverence*.] Glancing back to the window, you see a male in a sharply cut laminate suit observing your situation. He smiles, then passes before the window and disappears on the far side. (set: $TransportCheck to it + 1) [[The Sisters truly respect masculinity.->RevHub]]

You look into the reflection, into yourself. (if: $Blue is true)[The blue of your laminate still gleams, the heavy cuffs you wore integrated into the prayer frame. With your zipper open hints of flesh are visible between your legs, but the thick cock of the pole impaled within you blocks much, along with the strategically placed vibrator.] (if: $Smoke is true)[The smokey coloration of your laminate still gleams, the harness pulled tightly across your upper torso having been integrated into the prayer frame. With your zipper open hints of flesh are visible between your legs, but the thick cock of the pole impaled within you blocks much, along with the strategically placed vibrator.] (if: $Brand is true)[The black of your branded laminate still gleams, the various adverts and slogans painted across your curvaceous form still so bright in comparison. You wriggle, your breasts pushed out by the combined work of the frame and your own corset, the latter having grown somewhat more comfortable the more you wore it. With your zipper open hints of flesh are visible between your legs, but the thick cock of the pole impaled within you blocks much, along with the strategically placed vibrator.] (if: $Sec is true)[The white and red of your professionally attired laminate still gleams, but it's devilishly hard to *blend in* with the similarly dressed outside when forced into such a position of enforced prayer. Your skirt hides your womanhood, but the pole running up between your legs could only be interfacing in one manner-- and few can ignore the allure of the vibrator pressed against the taut laminate before you. To your shame, you return the favor, thrusting your hips forward in search of the heady vibrations.] (if: $Slave is true)[The pure black of your slave suit still gleams, the standardized design a testament to your submission. You wriggle, your breasts pushed out by the combined work of the frame and your own corset, the latter having grown somewhat more comfortable the more you wore it. The zipper between your legs is still sealed, but that only ensures the plugs installed there remain buried, your hips pressing whoreishly forward, seeking the vibrator.] (set: $TransportCheck to it + 1) But that is not all you notice-- for in the reflection you see something you would not otherwise have noticed. Behind you hangs a sign, the Torean lettering upon it difficult to read backwards, but you parse it out slowly: *This Sinner offers her penance to this community. She is a whore, who sought out the vibrator between her legs. She is a slut, who revels in the bondage enforced upon her. She is feminine, submissive by nature.* [[And now everyone knows.->RevHub]]

You struggle, as best you can. The Order of the Primrose may be a religious organization, but they *are* Torean. Their bondage work and gear leaves you little liberty, and straining against the various cuffs and chains quickly tires you. Perhaps more importantly, you provide quite a show for those watching from the world beyond the window. Every time you shift your shoulders your chest is emphasized, while further down your hips have a mind of their own, seeking out further pleasure from the vibrator despite your best intentions. (set: $TransportCheck to it + 1) The more you struggle, the more pole and vibrator collude to leave you panting, your muscles tensing as they seek release. A vicious cycle. [[You slump back in your bondage.->RevHub]]

Were you a religious person, before Torei? You don't *think* so. But recalling things had never been your specialty. You do not remember any prayers, however. The solace of mythology and metaphysics are denied you. To your sides, however, you do occasionally pick up the murmuring of those Sisters who flanked you. They *did* have prayers, and being so intrinsically Torean they could even have applied to this situation. But those are not available to you, not *yet*. As Euphoria had said upon your first meeting, many are called to the Convent. Few truly understand *why.* (set: $TransportCheck to it + 1) [[Perhaps you do now. Or... not.->RevHub]]

It's such a simple thing, to let it out. Catharsis. Your (if: $Slave is true)[masked moans, your gasping attempts at breath...](else:)[gagged moans, your mewling attempts at that which is denied you now. *Speech.*] Nothing much is accomplished, however. (set: $TransportCheck to it + 1) [["Mmmggh..."->RevHub]]

It feels so *good*. The first time. Afterward, the Sisters make no effort to release you. Your bindings remain in place, the phallic intruder between your legs as well. And the vibrator seems to only run faster. Nature runs its course. You cum again, then again. And again, and again, and again... By perhaps the first half dozen you couldn't have raised your head if your prayer frame had allowed you, but instead merely drool lewdly onto the floor, chest rising and falling rapidly as you inhale violently-- your body trying to regulate itself. It *fails*. Even further in, the window seems to dim. The world outside loses its luster, growing darker. The pleasure between your legs remains intense, inescapable, but exhausted muscles ache as well. You're spent, and yet your Revelation pushes on. Endlessly. Perhaps you even hallucinate, towards the end. Glancing up, somewhere deep into this waking hell, you see a demon passing outside. Black of suit, black of mask... so... *familiar*... [[And then you pass out.->NunRevEnd]]

They do not respond. But one does effectually step back into the darkness, shadows gliding across her uniform before she disappears. One of those in white and black. She reappears a few minutes later, carrying something as she approaches you. Standing before you, the angle your prayer frame required allows you only to look at a downward angle-- meeting the tall woman's heavy corset with your gaze. But it's her hands you focus upon anyway. In one she has a small vial of some manner of clear solution, and in the other small cloth. Applying the first to the latter, she reaches out-- and begins shining your laminate. You vaguely recall guarantees that laminate retained its gloss and luster for weeks at a time, but the Sister before you doesn't appear to mind. She works slowly, moving in small circles starting at the collar around your neck. From there she shifts downward, to your shoulders, then your breasts. (if: $Level is > 2)[Your pierced nipples get special attention, the Sister passing several times over the laminate of your chest to ensure the alterations are evident.] (if: $Slave is true or $Brand is true)[Your corset is next, the tight curve from bust to waist given a fresh coat of shine.] Then your hips and legs, moving down to your shoes so far below. By the time she returns to your left, you positively shine in the light of the window. (if: $Slave is true)[[[You shift your hips, pressing your ass plug deeper inside. It's more a reflex then a purposeful decision.->RevHub]]](else:)[[["Mmmmmm..."->RevHub]]]

Torei looms beyond the window, and so many eyes are upon you. How could they not be? You are on display for them, bound and humbled, wriggling in bondage as your cunt is teased. This is *your* Revelation. The pleasure between your legs, your ability to endure... perhaps you *are* more experienced with this then you know. And if not? You must be a natural. One passing slave pauses and opens her mouth, the glass soundproof but her amusement clear. The woman accompanying her, perhaps her own, swats her quickly on the rear as they continue on. Another woman makes some sort of hand signal towards you, her eyes empathetic. Others merely ignore your humiliation, but that's almost worse, isn't it? To be displayed so publically, and to *still* be unworthy of attention? (if: $IsabellaCheck is true)[A familiar face even paces, her pure black outfit and bright red lips a signature all their own. You can almost smell the cinnamon her cigarette. Isabella, the Mistress from the bench you met before. She seems to look behind you and frowns, continuing on her way.] (set: $TransportCheck to it + 1) [[You cannot help as you grind your cunt wantonly into the vibrator.->RevHub]]

You awaken in another world. Black and white, the abyss of the Convent and the world outside, is replaced by smooth shades of violent trendings blue. Silence prevails, unbroken by a desperate hum between your legs. You rouse, and find yourself in the garden outside, the *Silent Escorts* shifting quietly in the breeze that does not reach your pool of tranquil afterglow. Above you, red eyes eclipse your vision. Sister Euphoria, looking down at you. She's kneeling, your head resting on her thighs. (set: $debt to it + 100) "What was your Revelation?" (set: $NunPath to true) [["100 credits earned through hell."->NunRevDeny]] [["That Torei is... a place like none other."->NunRevDeny]] [["That... I came here for the wrong reasons. I seek not credits, but Conversion..."->NunRevAcc]]

The Nun smiles, her lips just barely visible as they move beneath the laminate of her muzzle. "There is no shame in exploration. We do not always find that which we seek, but knowing which paths to avoid in the future is almost as important." Gently she guides you back to your feet before retaking her customary kneeling position at the center of the small clearing. Her eyes close as gloved palms come together. "Torei awaits you, Seeker. The Order has donated 100 credits to your account, and you are free to again walk your own path." [[You step back and away...->Nun Hub]]

The Sister peers down at you, those unnatural eyes burning beneath her shadowed veil. "I have perceived much the same. But this is not a path one walks lightly, without due consideration. I would advise that you see what other paths are available to you. Walk some of them." Gently she guides you back to your feet, her cloak glistening as readily as your own laminate. "And if you truly seek Conversion, return to me later." She retakes her customary kneeling position at the center of the small clearing. Her eyes close as gloved palms come together. "Torei awaits you, Seeker. The Order has donated 100 credits to your account, as we promised." [[You step back and away...->Nun Hub]]

Euphoria looks towards the way you came, beyond the gate and to the world beyond. In the tranquil quiet of the Convent's garden, it's easy to forget how close it was. "When we Sisters seek Confirmation in our Order, we undertake several vows. One of these prohibits us from traveling beyond the grounds of our Convents and Missions without a proper escort-- be they an Elder Sister, any male, or a freewomb such as yourself. Myself and the other Elders are occupied, but we would like to get Sister Dahlia started on her training regimen today if possible. She has only recently entered service as a novitiate." (set: $NunPick to true) The Sister looks to you. "The Lead is also an acceptable means of escort, and that is how she arrived here. Most probably she is waiting for retrieval in the slave pens, at the rear of the raised transport platform." [["Sister Dahlia, bring her back here. Got it."->Pickup3]] [["Before I go, what exactly does she look like?"->Pickup3B]]

"Wonderful," the Sister replies, returning to her kneeling position. "Simply return here with you, and your reward will be granted." As you move to leave, Euphoria provides an addendum. "Do make sure she does not get into any trouble. [["Of course."->Nun Hub]]

"A good question. I have never met Sister Dahlia myself, but the nature of our Order makes certaine expectations obvious." Euphoria replies. "She is neither an Elder nor a Superior Sister, so her uniform will feature a secondary color of white instead of red as mine is. She is not yet Confirmed, so she has not taken the Vow of Uniformity-- expect someone shorter, a more variable build. She would have a habit instead of a full cloak, and... ah! The Vow of Perception, of course-- she would not of undergone that either. So her eye color will be whatever she entered the Order with." The much taller Sister looks to you. "The uniform alone will make her stick out, of course. We are noted whenever we travel." [["Sister Dahlia, shorter then you, white and black uniform. Got it."->Pickup3]]

The loading platforms and their attendant lines take up the majority of the raised area, but you maneuver around them, making instead for a sign labeled *Slave Pickup*. Thankfully the queue for this is much quicker, and it's not long before you're faced with a smiling Transit Attendant in a glossy blue uniform. "Name of the slave you wish to pickup, Ma'am?" Her hands hover over her keyboard, expectantly. (if: $NunPaidFine is true)[[["Sister Dahlia. She had a fine associated with her but that should now be cleared?"->TransPickTRUANT]]](else:)[[["Sister Dahlia."->TransPick2]]]

"One moment," the stewardess responds. It quite literally takes her only the one. "Ah, I see. Sister Dahlia of the Order of the Primrose, registered slave. Arrived via the Lead this morning. Held for escort. I imagine that would be you?" She smiles at the rhetorical question, but her blue lips twitch downward as she reads further. "Ah, ma'am, before I can release your slave there is something we must address. It appears she has an outstanding Truancy violation, and a pending fine of 50 credits." [["What did she do?"->TransPick3]]

The Transit girl shrugs her shoulders, the movement emphasizing the heavy collar around her throat. "The Ministry of Truants does not allow us such information, they only require us to hold the slave in question until the fine has been paid-- or a Truant Officer has waived the requirement. Would you like to address the fine right now?" You certainly could, but that would be coming out of your own pocket. (if: $TruantFound is false)[A small fine on a member of a religious order could probably be waived, if you could find a Truant Officer.](if: $TruantFound is true)[A small fine on a member of a religious order could probably be waived, if you speak to a Truant Officer-- like the one that nearly arrested you at that checkpoint.] Alternatively, Sister Euphoria would certainly pay you back when you bring her Dahlia. (if: $debt is >= 50)[[["I'll pay the fee myself, for her release."->TransPickPaySelf]] [["I'll pay the fee myself for now, but can I get a receipt? I will get reimbursed by the Order."->TransPickPaySelf]]](else:)[[["I don't actually have enough credits, I'll come back when I do...->Transport Hub III]]] (if: $NunPaidFine is false)[[["Actually, let me think about it, I'll be right back.->Transport Hub III]]]

"Wonderful," the attendant smiles. "If you would present your clip?" (set: $debt to it - 50)(set: $NunPaidSelf to true)(set: $NunHave to true) She feeds the monetary device into the terminal before then, then returns it. "There we are, 50 credits have been deducted, and your slave's hold order has been revoked. Please take a seat while we retrieve her from storage. She indicates a set of chairs nearby. [[Take a seat.->MeetDahlia]]

"Wonderful," the attendant smiles. "Please allow me to confirm that." (set: $NunHave to true) In a quick flurry of typing, she pulls up the relevant data on her terminal. "I see, the hold order has indeed been revoked by Ministry authority. Excellent. Please take a seat while we retrieve your slave from storage." She indicates a set of chairs nearby. [[Take a seat.->MeetDahlia]]

The Officer's eyes narrow. "No. Not before we discuss that job I will be using you for. After we do that... *maybe.*" She makes it seem unlikely regardless. [["...okay."->Truant Hub]]

Nikaido rises from her leaning position against her car, very much *not* looking like you had just offered to potentially help her. "Finally," she growls, grabbing you roughly by the (if: $Slave is true or $Blue is true)[collar](else:)[throat], shoving you up against the vehicle she had just left. "Listen well then, because I'm only going to say this once. And to make *sure* you're listening, I'm going to start with what you offworlders always like. Credits. You do what I tell you, and I'll give you 400 credits. Hell, I'll throw in a Freewomb train pass as well. This needs to get done." She looks to you, imperious and demanding. "*Are* you listening?" [["400 credits? Wow. Yeah."->TruantExplain 2]] [["Yes, Officer."->TruantExplain 2]]

"No." The laconic answer is stark, hard. "The Ministry has PR slaves for that. Just know we reward helpful freewombs, and we punish unhelpful ones. Which are you?" [[Helpful... right?->Truant Hub]]

"Good." She releases her grasp on you somewhat, but a quick glance around allows you to observe others passing by avoiding the Truant Officer's immediate presence. Nikaido hardly seems to mind as she continues. "The checkpoint you passed through earlier was an attempt to find a fugitive slave." You get the sense the Officer is always this straightforward and direct. "One we *know* is in this area, trying to leave via the transport hub. She is owned by a particularly well-connected Master, and he is very much up my station's ass to track her down before she leaves this area and becomes harder to find. What we need from you is only a location. Find where she is, report that to me. And I'll pay you 400 credits and that pass. Simple." [["I have some questions."->TruantExplainHub]]

"Ask your questions," the Officer growls, begrudgingly. It's obvious she's not used to doing anything but directing a conversation. [["Why are you asking me to do this?"->TruantWhy]] [["Who is this slave I'm looking for?"->TruantWho]] [["What did this slave do that you're tracking her?"->TruantWhat]] [["What does this slave look like?"->TruantDesc]] (if: $TruantQuest is false)[[["That's all the questions I have. Do you have any leads?"->TruantExplain 3]]] (if: $TruantQuest is true)[[["That's all the questions I have for now."->TruantQuestHub]]]

"Because of what you are," she replies, as if the answer was obvious. "An offworlder, a freewomb, new to this area. No one would expect you to be working for the Ministry of Truants, and they're more likely to allow you to ask questions. Even *dumb* questions, like this one." [["I see."->TruantExplainHub]]

"Ellia Amadori," the Officer replies, working without a need to check her notes. Either she had a good memory, or her superiors really *were* riding her hard to find this woman. "Offworlder. Native to Arias IV. Twenty-three years old, arrived on-planet at age eighteen. Enslaved at age nineteen. We doubt she will have any identification card on her, however. Thus our checkpoints. Heavy-handed, but we're running out of time. Once a slave moves beyond their immediate surroundings they get difficult to track, despite our various methods. Should have been chipped." Nikaido shrugs her shoulders, as if to acknowledge that was too late now. [["Ellia Amadori, got it."->TruantExplainHub]]

"She's a runaway." Nikaido seems to spit out that last word, with clear vehemence. "Slipped out of her Master's compound six days ago." [[You nod, unwilling to fan her anger further.->TruantExplainHub]]

Again, the Officer does not need to refer to anything beyond her own memories to answer the question. "5'7, slender. Red hair, but shaved. Expect her to be wearing a hood of some sort to obscure that. Green eyes. Has been a patient at the Ministry of Improvement several times, but that's not generally something you can tell visually. Pierced tongue, but that could have been removed. Tattooed with her Master's initials, LV, on her neck." [[A tattoo and rare hair color, that could help.->TruantExplainHub]]

The Truant Officer gestures towards the crowded streets around you. "She is somewhere near here, we know that. *Close.* We suspect she is attempting to acquire transportation-- the Transport Hub should probably be your first stop. After that? You will need to figure that out for yourself. We do know the Liberty Society has a local chapter near here, but their representative has been hostile when we attempt to question him. But perhaps others will know? That's for you to find out." "Shit, almost forgot," she reaches towards her belt, among the various whips, cuffs, and stun batons hanging there. From somewhere among them she pulls forth a small remote, handing it to you. "The tattoo of her Master's initials, LV, will probably be your best means of determining the slave's identity. But you could try that remote as well, it's wirelessly synched to her rainbow implants if you get close enough." [["Rainbow implants?"->TruantAskRainbow]] [["Find the runaway, tell you where she is. Got it."->TruantExplain4]]

"Right," the Officer grimaces, a hand pressed against her forehead. "Forgot I'm dealing with another offworlder. Rainbow implants-- they're a Torean standard many slaves have them. At the erogenous hot spots. Nipples, clit, tongue. They can stimulate, shock, depends on the particular design. The name comes from the glow some give when operating, colors indicating various effects." She reaches out, tapping the small remote. "For your purposes, just hit the stim or shock function-- well, probably *shock*. Damn slave deserves it. Anyway, you should see an immediate reaction if you're close enough. Another way to identify." [["Find the runaway. Got it."->TruantExplain4]]

The Truant Officer reaches up, adjusting her cap slightly. "Good. Even an offworlder should be able to handle this. Find the slave, report her position back to me. You get 400 credits and a train pass, and I get some far too rich Master off my ass." (set: $TruantQuest to true) She crosses her arms across her chest, leaning back against her patrol car again. What comes next is only given grudgingly. "Now that you know what you need to do, you better get to it. But if you need anything else from me... I suppose you can ask them now. Don't make me regret it." [[Ellia Amadori, the investigation begins.->Truant Hub]]

Truant Officer Nikaido's eyes narrow, matching the frown that forms across her painted lips. It's an expression she holds for a considerable amount of time, long enough you just know she's going to refuse you. But she doesn't. "Only because you're helping me. A Sister of the Convent nearby, you mean? Give me her name." Reaching in through her vehicle's open window, she pulls forth a datapad linked to the car's onboard systems by a curled cord. [["Sister Dahlia, she just arrived at the transport hub this morning."->TruantNun2]]

The Officer types quickly, a response from her query coming in the space of a few moments. "Sister... Dahlia, right? Slave of the Order of the Primrose. Yeah, I'm seeing the 50 credit fine and hold order on here. Looks like its for... nothing major. A curfew violation." She looks to you, finger poised over the datapad. "I can clear it easily enough, but you're going to have to ask more formally then you just did. In the Torean manner. Do you know what that means?" (if: $PlayE is true)[[You do. A proper reverence.->TruantNunRev]](else:)[["...no, I'm not sure I do."->TruantNunNoRev]] [["On second thought, nevermind. I will handle it myself."->TruantNunRefuse]]

"Offworlders," the Officer scoffs. "Alright, you're going to need to find someone else if you want all the intricacies of it. But a proper reverence, that's what you do when you're meeting with or requesting something from a superior. Like *myself.*" She flicks two fingers your way. "Spread your legs. If you're wearing a skirt and have your hands free, you lift the skirt. Only a catsuit? Open your zipper. Goal is to display your cunt for a few moments, demonstrate your submission and respect. If you're tied up tight (if: $Level is > 1)[like you are with that binder,] you just spread your legs and press your hips forward." Those two fingers now point downward, swirling. "Show me, and ask nicely." [[Follow her instructions.->TruantNunRev]] [[Refuse.->TruantNunRefuse]]

"Suit yourself," the Officer shrugs. [[Guess you need to pay it yourself.->Truant Hub]]

"Not so hard, is it?" With a grandiose swipe, she overrides the fine and hold order on Sister Dahlia. (set: $NunPaidFine to true) "Done. Now get out of here." [[Back to the Transport Platform, then.->Truant Hub]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/2UPfyWF.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> You're not waiting long before another employee of the transport hub emerges from a side door, towing behind her a woman of laminate and faith. Sister Dahlia is much as you were led to expect, with a uniform bearing many similarities to Euphoria's. The greatest difference is the color change, the reds of the older woman replaced on Dahlia by pure white. Instead of a long cloak her habit is short, passing just behind her shoulders and exposing more readily the cuffs she bears on her wrists. Similar devices are locked to her ankles, and yet another is pulled tight around her throat. It's that last one a simple black laminate leash is connected to, and that you are give. The Sister's muzzle makes it impossible to tell if she is gagged, at least until she demonstrates she was not-- but greeting you enthusiastically. "Oh! You must be the escort the Convent arranged? I'm Sister Dahlia... but I suppose you already know that, huh? Neat! You're going to be taking me to the Convent, right?" It's a bit difficult to match the girl's outgoing personality with the stark religiousness of her uniform. [["Yes, I'm your escort to the Convent."->Dahlia2]]

"Great!" The Sister responds, as you lead her away from the Slave Pen desk. She follows readily, arms held before her due to the chain linking her wrists together. Once you've gotten a bit of distance from anyone else, the Nun speaks again. "You uh... you paid the fine I had, right?" (if: $NunPaidFine is true)[[["No. I had the Ministry of Truants waive it."->DahliaMin]]] (if: $NunPaidSelf is true)[[["Yes, from my own pocket."->DahliaPaySelf]]] (if: $NunPaidSelf is true)[[["Yes, I'll ask for reimbursement from the Convent when we reach it."->DahliaPaySelfRe]]]

Descending the Transport Platform's sloping ramp, Dahlia follows along on her leash. "Oh, so then you... know that it was just for a curfew violation, right? Were you going to tell Sister Euphoria about it?" [["Yes."->DahliaMin2]] [["Probably not."->DahliaMin2]] [["I'm not sure, why?"->DahliaMin2]]

"Oh, well, thank you..." Descending the Transport Platform's sloping ramp, Dahlia follows along on her leash. "So then you might not know that it was just for a curfew violation, alright? Were you going to tell Sister Euphoria about it?" [["Yes."->DahliaMin2]] [["Probably not."->DahliaMin2]] [["I'm not sure, why?"->DahliaMin2]]

"Oh, I see..." Descending the Transport Platform's sloping ramp, Dahlia follows along on her leash. "So then you might not know that it was just for a curfew violation, alright? Could you *not* tell Sister Euphoria about it?" [["Why?"->DahliaMin2]] [["I need to get paid back, Sister."->DahliaMin2]]

"You *can't!*" She speaks a bit too loud, drawing several brief glances from those nearby. Dahlia glances about, her habit shifting along her shoulders, before looking back to you. "I mean... could you make sure you don't? I swear I didn't do it, what they fined me for. Curfew violation. At least not on purpose. I'm just still getting used to it. The Order, I mean, and what... uh, that means. The rules the Sisters have, and the other ones that apply to me now. For being a slave." Her collar glints in the light. [["Why does it matter what I tell Euphoria?"->Dahlia3]]

Dahlia's response is immediate. "Because if you tell her about the fine, she will know I did something wrong. I want to make a good first impression!" She rolls her shoulders, clearly still adapting to her uniform. That heavy corset in particular doesn't look altogether comfortable. "...and because I don't want to be punished for it. You don't know what its like to spend hours and hours performing enforced prayer! And that's *before* they make me perform flagellation, or put me in silence for however long they want!" [["I'll think about it, that does sound cruel."->Dahlia4Yes]] [["You deserve the punishment, if your Order demands it of you."->Dahlia4No]]

"Thank you, thank you, thank you-- yes, think about it! That's all I'm asking!" It's a request she makes just as you turn a corner, the secluded gate of the Convent coming into view. [[Enter the garden.->Dahlia5]]

The Sister only signs in response, perhaps resigned to her fate. It's well timed as you round a corner, the secluded gate of the Convent coming into view. [[Enter the garden.->Dahlia5]]

As had become customary, you find Sister Euphoria kneeling amongst the strange foliage, hands together in silent prayer. She rises at your approach, standing so much taller then the Sister she greets. "Ah, Sister Dahlia! You have arrived, in no small part thanks to the assistance of our helpful traveler." She snaps her gloved fingers. "Supplication." It's a command Dahlia obviously knows, as she moves to her knees, bowing her head as her legs spread. Her linked wrists frame her chest as she plants her palms on the ground, and Euphoria proceeds to ignore her for the time being. "A simple deed done well, the Convent thanks you." Her hands find your shoulders, less an embrace then a compassionate show of true appreciation. "Were there any problems?" [["None at all."->DahliaEndLie]] (if: $NunPaidFine is true)[[["She was being held with an outstanding fine. I cleared it."->DahliaEndTru]]] (if: $NunPaidSelf is true)[[["She was being held with an outstanding fine. I paid it... as a donation to the Convent."->DahliaEndPayNo]]] (if: $NunPaidSelf is true)[[["She was being held with an outstanding fine. I paid it... but should be compensated for it."->DahliaEndPayYes]]]

Out of the corner of your eye, you catch Sister Dahlia exhale deeply as you hide her transgression. Euphoria releases your shoulders, a gloved hand drawing an arcane symbol before you as she bows deeply. "Then you need only be paid what you are owed. 100 credits, as we agreed. Take them, and return to your path, whatever it may be." (set: $NunEnd1 to true)(set: $debt to it + 100) [[Step back and away, as Euphoria converses quietly with Dahlia.->Nun Hub]]

Dahlia, kneeling on the ground, breathes a single word. "*Shit*." "I see," Euphoria comments, removing her hands from your shoulders. "It seems Sister Dahlia will begin her tenure at our Convent with a course in discipline. Thank you for addressing the matter, however, and in a fashion that could not have been more agreeable. I recall that we agreed to 100 credits for your work as escort, but given how smoothly you resolved the unforeseen issues-- I will provide a small bonus. 125 credits. Take them, and return to your path, whatever it may be." (set: $NunEnd2 to true)(set: $debt to it + 125) [[Step back and away, as Euphoria converses sharply with Dahlia.->Nun Hub]]

Dahlia, kneeling on the ground, breathes a single word. "*Shit*." "I see," Euphoria comments, removing her hands from your shoulders. "It seems Sister Dahlia will begin her tenure at our Convent with a course in discipline. Thank you for addressing the matter, however, and in a kind and charitable fashion. I recall that we agreed to 100 credits for your work as escort, and you will be provided with that readily. Take them, and return to your path, whatever it may be." (set: $NunEnd2 to true)(set: $debt to it + 100) [[Step back and away, as Euphoria converses sharply with Dahlia.->Nun Hub]]

Dahlia, kneeling on the ground, breathes a single word. "*Shit*." "I see," Euphoria comments, removing her hands from your shoulders. "It seems Sister Dahlia will begin her tenure at our Convent with a course in discipline. Thank you for addressing the matter, however, I only wish it could have been in a smoother fashion. I recall that we agreed to 100 credits for your work as escort, so I will append an additional 50 to cover the fine. Take them, and return to your path, whatever it may be." (set: $NunEnd2 to true)(set: $debt to it + 150) [[Step back and away, as Euphoria converses sharply with Dahlia.->Nun Hub]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/2UPfyWF.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> Sister Dahlia kneels much as Dahlia does, but is deeper in the shadows of the garden, and far less distinctive-- she is neither tall nor bearing strange red eyes. Instead her brown pupils emerge as she looks up at you. (if: $NunEnd1 is true)["Thanks again for covering for me, with the fine. Whatchya need?"](if: $NunEnd2 is true)["Thanks for getting me on punishment detail. What do you want?"] [["Sister Euphoria mentioned you're new to the Order?"->DahliaQ]] (if: $NunEnd2 is true)[[["Sorry about telling Euphoria."->DahliaSorry]]] (if: $Donate is true and $DonateDahlia is false and $DonateEnd is false)[[["Sister Dahlia, would you... perhaps be able to make a donation to the Liberty Society?"->DahliaDonate]]] [["Nothing more." You step back towards Euphoria.->Nun Hub]]

"Yeah," the Nun replies. "I heard you're an offworlder? I am too. Was-- I guess." [["Really? You're not Torean-born?->DahliaOff]] [[Why did you join the Order?->DahliaJoin]] [[No offense, but you don't seem very... nun-y."->DahliaNun]] [["That's all for now.->Dahlia Hub]]

Dahlia frowns, brows turning downward as her mouth shifts behind her muzzle. "Well... I appreciate the apology, but guess who's going to be scrubbing the floors in the Sensation room for like a month? Yeah. Me." [["Well, sorry."->Dahlia Hub]]

"Yep," Dahlia replies, looking up, past you. The foliage around you hides the sky, but its not hard to imagine it up there, and the stars of the greater galaxy beyond. "Born and raised on an aerostat drifter. Came down the Way Up... hmm, maybe a year ago? Thought I was going to see what all the fuss was about." She glances down to her laminate uniform, and heavy restraints. "Guess I found the fuss, huh?" [["Sure looks like it."->DahliaQ]]

It's a question the Nun not only seems ready for, but embraces. For the first time, her tone actually turns fervent. "Because the Order is *Torean.* The galaxy is huge, and ancient, and... shades of the same grey. You've seen one colony mining world, you've seen them all. New worlds are found every year, but different sorts of rocks and weather and gravity aren't exciting. But Torei? This is something no offworlder could have experienced just a few years ago, traditions and practices... human **stuff** that's radically different." She tilts her head, an inqusitive gesture that shifts her habit slightly. "What about you? Would you join, if you could?" [["No..."->DahliaJoinNo]] [["Absolutely not!"->DahliaJoinNo]] [["...maybe."->DahliaJoinYes]]

"Sister Euphoria says being a member of the Order is a path, not a singular state of mind," Dahlia says, very seriously-- for all of two moments, before she laughs quietly. "Yeah, yeah-- I know. The others, my Sisters, they say that will change over time. All the training and prayer we do, you know? And if I get Confirmed, they *change* you. Make you taller, same proportions as everyone else... wonder how that will be." [[She sounds intrigued.->DahliaQ]]

The Nun merely nods. "It's certainly not for everyone." [[Indeed.->DahliaQ]]

You catch glimpses of a wide smile beneath her muzzle. "Full warning, that would put you in a uniform identical to mine. And, you know, everything *else* that entails." Dahlia shrugs. "I sort of *like* being made to wear this, though, so... you should really talke to Euphoria, I guess. If you haven't already. You don't have any *idea* what you would be getting into..." She nearly stands, only to look around you at her Sister still nearing in the clearing. Presumably Euphoria would not be pleased, so Dahlia sates herself with a knowing wink. [[A uniform just like hers?->DahliaQ]]

(if: $debt is > 0)[Euphoria nods. "Your intentions are clear, but your perception remains weighed down by concerns beyond that of a Sister. You are not wealthy, but we of the Order are allowed only poverty. Free yourself of your credits, donate or spend them. Then return to me."](if: $debt is <= 0)["Your step is light, you purpose clear. I perceive you have demonstrated a Vow, that of Poverty, before it is even forced upon you. This is evidence of intent, one that I welcome. But still I must provide a warning of great consequence."] (if: $debt is > 0)[[["I understand, and will return."->Nun Hub]]] (if: $debt is <= 0)[[["A warning?"->NunRevFinal3]]] [["Let me... let me reconsider...->Nun Hub]]

"A warning," she repeats, leaning in, towering above you. Her red eyes look deep into your own, searching. "A dire warning." She reaches up, pulling down the laminate muzzle that encapsulated her chin and mouth. For the first time her lips are revealed, full and inviting, painted a deep glossy black. And across them, one white word upon each, carefully inscribed in the Torean script: **Slave Sinner** "I believe you capable of entering service within the Order." She continues, as you fail to avoid the truth that her convictions are faulty, mortal, born from the mouth of a sinner and slave. "It would be a furthering of what I observed as you walked the paths of Contemplation, Sensation, and Revelation. Regardless, I must recommend against this path. To enter the Order is to forego much in this life. Wealth. Comfort. Liberty. You will be held to a standard of conduct far above most others, and your Sins carefully recorded. You will be judged, and found wanting. As we all are. But thus is the path towards Bliss, and how we walk it. Being corrected and trained, punished and denied, every step of the way." [["What of... my goals before? My deal, the Black Card?"->NunRevBlack]] [["This is the path I wish to walk."->NunRevFinal4]] [["I must... I must reconsider...->Nun Hub]]

"So be it." (if: $Blue is true or $Smoke is true or $Brand is true or $Sec is true)[Euphoria leans in suddenly, her branded lips finding your own. The meeting is electric, her tongue entering your mouth, your bodies momentarily one. The kiss of a sinner, a slave, and soon to be your Sister.] Then she retreats, pulling her muzzle back up as she guides you towards the door to the Convent. (if: $NunEnd1 is true or $NunEnd2 is true)[Dahlia is summoned to trail along as well.] Entering the black, she guides you as she had thrice previously. As with Revelation you are directed back, deep into the heart of the abyss. But instead of the windowed room, you sense a different chamber having been entered-- moments before you see it, lights flickering on in the darkness. Red neon in the form of a triangle, the Order's symbol, frames a raised platform upon which you are step upon. Despite the light, gloom still prevails, revealing little more then the dark stone ceiling-- and figures moving above. Only Euphoria remains at your side, occasionally watching the progress with eyes that *pierced* the black. "You will be entering service as a Novitiate, by Torean law a slave for three months. At the end of that period you may renew your vows, or leave. That is your choice. If you renew four times, the fourth will be your Confirmation-- where you become a full member of our Order. That is when the Vow of Uniformity is enforced upon you, and you are made to look exactly as I do." Several other members of the Order have taken up positions surrounding you. Their laminate glows red, reflecting the dim neon lights as Sister Euphoria continues. "You will take five vows. Poverty. Obedience. Penance. Femininity. And Devotion. Then you will be sanctified, shorn of your current outfit and remade anew in the Order's image. The next time you leave this chamber, you will be enslaved. Do you understand?" [["I do."->NunRevFinal5]]

Sister Euphoria nods, then turns to those assembled. Twelve others now encircle your raised platform, two beside Euphoria wearing black and red, the rest black and white. "Sisters of the Order of the Primrose, of the Convent of Perception, we have gathered here to enslave another to our faith. We ask that the supplicant recite the Five Foundational Vows, to take them upon her breast, to bear their weight with grace and humility. We begin with that of Poverty." She turns to you, hands held before her. "Do you accept the Vow of Poverty, to be without wealth or property? To accept neither coin nor digital clip for your services, to offer yourself freely in accordance with the precepts of the Order?" [["I do."->NunRevFinal6]]

"Do you accept the Vow of Obedience, to learn and obey the strictures placed upon you as a Sister of this Order? To wear implements of bondage at all times, so that your obedience can be perpetually ensured? To accept the commands of those deemed superior to you at all times, without hesitation or reservation?" You lower your gaze to the floor. [["I do."->NunRevFinal7]]

"Do you accept the Vow of Penance? Do you understand that you are fallible and incapable of perfection, and that when you transgress against the Order, your Sisters, or its strictures that you must actively seek guidance and corrective action? Do you recognize that in the pursuit of Bliss, you will Sin, and must wear this reminder upon your every word, upon your very lips?" [["I do."->NunRevFinal8]]

"Do you accept the Vow of Femininity? Do you declare that, by the natural laws of your sex that you are inherently weak of will and body? Do you recognize the subservience of your gender, and the ascendancy of the Male? Do you accept that it is your instinctive drive to please others, and to appear pleasing to others in turn?" [["I do."->NunRevFinal9]]

"Do you accept the fifth and final core vow, the Vow of Devotion? Do your recognize the sancity of the scripture you will be taught? Do you submit yourself entirely to the path of the Order of the Primrose? Are you prepared to *serve?*" [["I do. I am."->NunRevFinal10]]

"Great!" Michael responds, clapping you on the back. "That's just great! Alright, like I said, you can try approaching anyone you like for individual donations, but you *have* to get to the Transport Platform and our stand there before I'd consider your work complete. Alright? Sound good? Yeah? Then I'll see you again whenever you finish!" (set: $Donate to true) [[Sounds like you have some walking to do.->Offworlder Hub]]

"Uh... are you sure?" The man asks, looking at you abit quizzically. "Because you definitely haven't manned our station on the Transport Platform, and you need to do that before you can turn anything in. I bet that's where the majority of donations are going to come from anyway, it's so busy up there." Her points to the Platform in the distance. "So go do that first, like we talked about." [["Oops. Ha, sorry about that. I will do that."->Offworlder Hub]]

The man smiles, a hand finding your shoulder. "Hey, great to hear! How did it go?" When you explain it was surprisingly uneventful, he simply nods. "Can't get into much trouble doing work like that, I would think. If you could stick the clips into my backpack, we can your payment squared away." He returns briefly to offering his pamphlets to those who pass, leaving you alone along the corner's wall-- where a choice suddenly presents itself. Michael has not made an effort yet to count the donations, and his back is decidedly turned away from you. Keeping a few clips for yourself, say... 75 credits worth, seems unlikely to be noticed. Some would call that *stealing*, but are you not exactly the sort the Liberty Society should have been more actively helping? [[Take a bit extra off the top.->OffDonateEndSteal]] [[No, that would be wrong.->OffDonateEndGood]]

The Torean Mistress tips her head down, looking over her mirrored glasses. "By Mazos, don't tell me you're associated with those..." She grits her teeth, biting down on something particularly acrimonious. "Those people are a bad set of cuffs. *Weak.* Offworlders who don't try to understand how things *are*, as if this is one of *their* worlds. And Torei is *not* one of their worlds." Reaching up, she takes a hard pull on her electronic cigarette. The red tip glows, so very bright. As equally crimson smoke escapes her lips, she continues. "I won't give them a credit." [["Well... I'll let you think about it, maybe ask you later..."->DonateIsabella2]] [["Is there anything I could do to convince you to donate?"->DonateIsabella2]]

Isabella shifts her glasses back up, turning away. "You're not going to get a credit for some misguided Society who helps slaves run away from a proud slaveowner. **No.**" (set: $DonateIsabella to true) [[Well, at least you tried?->Isabella Hub]]

"You're collecting for them?" She asks, eyes narrowing. "Sure, I guess I could." [["Wow, thanks!"->TruantDonate2]] [["Wait-- really?"->TruantDonate2]]

"The average person doesn't see things how things are, on the streets," the Officer explains, unprompted. "Cute little groups like that Liberty Society aren't going to accomplish anything in the long run. But I'd rather they operate openly, if only because its easier for us to watch them. Last thing we need are Offworlders *really* pouring money into escape routes for slaves. Legalities become a bitch when they cross borders, you know?" She provides you with her donate, a credit clip loaded with what passed for a universal currency within many of the Ringdoms near the space elevator. "Now get out of here." (set: $DonateTruant to true) [[Well, at least you're making progress!->Truant Hub]]

The Sister opens her eyes, still kneeling among the violet grass as she looks to you. "I'm afraid that would be an impossibility, (if: $Slave is true)[Sister.](else:)[child.] Even were I to believe in the cause of this Society, I could not donate. When I entered the Order, I took a Vow of Poverty. While I may offer and work with the Convent's funds, it is not permitted for I to have personal possessions of my own, even simple change." She smiles, beneath her muzzle. "But I appreciate your intentions, misguided as they may be. Soliciting others for donations is not a path few walk willingly." (set: $DonateEuphoria to true) [[Well, perhaps that should have been expected.->Nun Hub]]

She looks up at you, holding her position of prayer. "Are you fucking with me?" [["Uh, uhm--"->DahliaDonate2]]

Her eyes widen. "You're not!" She laughs, leaning further forward until her forehead touches the ground, literally doubling over in laughter. It takes some time for her to recover, although she makes a quicker effort of it once she notices Sister Euphoria watching from her position across the clearing. "Okay, okay..." she finally manages. "I know you're serious, but-- like, the Order is a religious sect, right? People donate to us, not the other way around. Just... no, I'm sorry, I won't be donating today." (set: $DonateDahlia to true)[[[Admittedly, this one was a long shot.->Dahlia Hub]]]

Whomever dictated the layout of the transport platform had, at least, thought ahead to the prospect of so many travelers moving through it. A section along the eastern side is reserved exclusively for services pandering to those passing multitudes. It's among these stall-like enclosures that you find one featuring a large sign for *The Liberty Society*. That had to be what Michael had indicated. As promised, the small structure is already stocked with several stacks of pamphlets-- much like those Michael was giving out at his corner post-- alongside a few other broadsheets, each pulled forth from a stack labeled for their intent. *In Debt?, We Can Help!, and What to do if Your Passport has been Seized* are some of the titles. Taking up a position behind the counter, you (if: $Level is > 1)[quickly realize this will be somewhat difficult to manage in an armbinder. Perhaps that will help sell the Society's points, though?](else:)[run your hand across the smooth surface, cleaning off errant bits of dust.] [[And so it begins.->DonateTran2]]

You've been through a lot since waking this morning. Laminate and bondage dominate Torei, and in turn had come to dominate you. Every choice you make seems to pull you just a bit further down, into the morass that Torean culture proved to be for so many offworlders. And it's that hard-earned experience that makes your next few hours so surprising. Everything goes smoothly, for once. Your luck with promoting the Liberty Society goes about as well as Michael seemed to be fairing, in that few show interest-- but you are able to direct at least a handful of wandering folks towards the Society's hotline. Donations are rare as well, but you do manage to scrap together a few credit clips. How many of those are legitimate donations, and how many merely approached to inquire about you in particular is hard to tell. The glossy (if: $Blue is true)[blue laminate and restraints] (if: $Smoke is true)[semi-transparent laminate and harness] (if: $Brand is true)[black and brand catsuit] (if: $Sec is true)[sheen of your office wear] (if: $Slave is true)[pure black of your slave uniform] did seem to draw attention. Michael had never indicated an exact amount of time required of you, but eventually you sense now would be as good as ever to wrap up. You do, after all, have much more important work afoot. (set: $DonateTrans to true) [[Well, at least it was easy enough for once.->Transport Hub III]]

With your words, the power to the triangular lights beneath your stage cut. Darkness descends as you become one with the void. "Kneel," a voice from that abyss commands. Another, different one, follows. "And be made anew." [[You kneel.->NunRevFinal11]]

Your transformation proceeds across a timeframe you cannot comprehend. In that perpetual darkness there is nothing for you to do but kneel, awaiting the fate you have so willingly embraced. Torei has claimed another wayward soul. Hands work across your body, occasionally directing, often simply guiding you into new positions. You are progressed towards their unseen goal, but certain sensations give hints. Liquid being poured upon you, sweet yet heady, that seems to evaporate at unnatural speeds-- leaving the flesh that had been warmed by laminate laid bare. (if: $Level is > 0)[Greater concentrations remove your hobble chain(if: $Level is > 1)[ and armbinder].] For a shining moment, you are nude. (if: $Level is < 3)[That exposure is taken advantage of as hands move you to your feet, voices whisperings words of preparation. Before you can ascertain their intent, sharp pain breaks out across your nipples-- while laminate arms restrain the struggle that only follows most naturally. You realize now your nipples have been pierced, such sensitive flesh made all the moreso by the metal adornments you now bear.] The process continues afterward, this time focusing on your nose. Gloved hands seize your neck, your head, forcing you to look up-- just as pain blossoms from your nose, between the nostrils. A dozen hypotheses spring forth, but one is confirmed when you are released, head hanging in a way that allows the ring now piercing your septum to shift slightly. Euphoria bore such adornment, now so do you. [[The transformation continues.->NunRevFinal12]]

Euphoria acknowledges your question with a nod, her hood making the small movement seem so much more grand. "You would be a slave, denied the opportunity to do as you desire. But your Black Card... there is more there, but not which I can speak to a layperson. You must be of the Order, walk our path. We *will explore it." [["I understand. This is the path I wish to walk."->NunRevFinal4]] [["I must... I must reconsider..."->Nun Hub]]

Keeping a few clips for yourself is a simple enough thing. These 75 credits could prove very helpful to your goals, after all. (set: $debt to it + 75) Secreting them, you return to Michael's side. [["All done."->OffDonateEndGood]]

Again stepping away from those passing as you approach, Michael rubs his hands together. "So, it went well. Did you manage any extra credit, so to speak? Find anyone beyond the Transport Platform willing to make a donation? (set: $DonateEnd to true)(set: $debt to it + 100)(if: $DonateTruant is true)[(set: $debt to it + 25)] (if: $DonateIsabella is true or $DonateEuphoria is true or $DonateDahlia is true)[You mention briefly your failed attempts, to which Michael gives an understanding look. "I get it," he explains. "Believe me, we know how hard it is to dredge up support on this planet. Torei is a touch nut to crack."] (if: $DonateTruant is true)[There was the Truant Officer, at least, and you do mention her surprising donation. "Really?" Michael asks, stroking his chin. "Honestly, never would have guessed. I'm not sure that I fully support her reasoning for doing so... but hey, we take help when we can get it. Even if the source is as unexpected as the Ministry of Truants. Great job! I'll toss in an extra 25 credits for the legwork. That will bring your total to... 125 credits, for a good job well done."](else:)["Well ass promised, you will get a cut of the proceeds. Let's call it... 100 credits? That seems fair. If you had found others to donate, I might haved added a bonus, but 100 credits certainly helps. Right?"] He turns from you, looking to the passing crowds. "I should probably return to my work. If you need anything else, just let me know." [["Sure."->Offworlder Hub]]

Michael blinks, glancing over his shoulder for a moment before returning his gaze to you. "Amadori? I couldn't really tell you anything. Aiding or abetting a slave attempting to escape the horrific conditions they are usually subjected to is a... very serious offense in most Ringdoms, including this one. The Liberty Society impresses upon us the importance of not engaging in such activity." It sounds like something he has practiced. (if: $TruantQuestPamph is true)[[["It's probably unrelated, but what is up with the pamphlets in your headquarters? I saw them while we were in there, for the local Convent?"->OffTruantQConvent]]] (if: $TruantOffer is true)[[["When I did that interview you had, you said my score indicated I should work with the Society. You're sure you can't tell me anything?"->OffTruantQOffer]]] [["Well, I suppose I understand."->Offworlder Hub]]

"Pamphlets for the Convent?" He asks, something rising in his expression. He buries it quickly with an easy smile. "Oh that? Nothing really to say, my partner working in this area is given one everytime she passes that place. The Convent is orientated towards women, I'm told. I'm sure they give those to everyone." [["If you say so."->Offworlder Hub]]

"You *did* score exceptionally on our test, for disapproval with local Torean culture..." Michael looks at you again, as if trying to discern something from your expression. It's a long moment, but one that finally passes with a conclusion having been made. He gestures for you to come closer. "Look," he whispers, holding a pamphlet out as if explaining it to you. "I can't say more, not here. But my parter, Elizabeth, can. If you *really* want to help you need to talk to her. She will be up on the Transport Platform, look for the red bench. Alright? Now you need to not ask me about this again." (set: $ElizabethLoc to true) [[[A lead! And it sounds like the Society is involved. You should make your way to the Transport Platform when you have the time.->Offworlder Hub]]]

Nikaido kicks a heeled boot out, a simple gesture to indicate that you should proceed. "I need to find that girl." [["Can I get some basic details about the runaway again?"->TruantExplainHub]] (if: $TruantQLie is true or $TruantQLieNo is true)[[["I think I wrap this investigation up, Officer. I know what happened to Amadori."->TruantQuestTurn]]] [["That's all about the runaway for now, Officer."->Truant Hub]]

"No," Isabella replies simple, an upward palm gesturing vaguely to the surrounding area. "But I don't live near here, and runaways aren't exactly rare in this Ringdom. We have the markets, and slaves will often run when faced with the auction block." She looks to you. "You're looking for the girl, aren't you?" [["Of course not!"->IsabellaRunQ2]] [["How did you know?"->IsabellaRunQ2]]

She shrugs, black laminate rising and falling as waves of reflections glisten on the material. "Bounty hunting is honest work, and you *do* need credits. But you're not exactly Hunter material..." Isabella seems to consider you for a moment, as if on the verge of speaking further on the issue. (if: $PlayP is false)[In the end, however, she shakes her head. "I would bet you're working with an Officer directly, then. And I don't trust them, which means I don't trust you. Not until that tongue of yours proves itself to be something more then just a silvered instrument."](if: $PlayP is true)[In the end, her bright red lips smile. "I know you're working with a Truant Officer, and I don't trust them one bit. But you? You've been between my legs. I suppose I give you a little bit of advice." She points upward and slightly back, the Transport Platform's massive bulk rising above you both. "If a slave is on the run, they need to leave the area. Can't take the Lead, Truant Officers are all over that. Can't take the train, they wouldn't have a pass. But if the slave comes from rich circumstances? Wouldn't be hard to steal a bit, and take a carriage. Given how expensive they are, they don't ask many questions. Go up to the Transport Platform, try asking there."(set: $TruantQuestCarr to true)] (if: $PlayP is false)[[Perhaps if you win her trust, you could try again.->Isabella Hub]](if: $PlayP is true)[[A good lead, one you need only follow to the Transport Platform.->Isabella Hub]]

"Amadori?" Euphoria repeats the name, rising to regard you more directly. "It is vaguely familiar, but I am not sure that I could be of service in this matter. This Convent may very well be the last place a runaway slave would go, given the nature of our faith." The collar at her neck, marking her as a slave is gestured to. "The Order teaches that we, as women, are best suited for service. But I will still endeavor to provide you with any information that I can." [["Are runaway slaves common in this area?"->NunTruantQQ]] (if: $TruantQuestPamph is true and $TruantQuestCarr is false)[[["I saw your Convent's pamphlets in a Liberty Society safehouse... do you know why that would be?"->NunTruantPamph]]] [["Nevermind, that's all I needed on this topic for now."->Nun Hub]]

The Nun nods. "Sadly, they are quite common throughout Aekora. The economy of each Ringdom is unique, of course, and Aekora relies primarily on its location-- straddling the space between those Ringdoms abutting the Way Up, and those further afield. Between them a lucrative slave trade has formed, and the Prime Markets downtown are where the vast majority of this Ringdom's wealth is derived." Her hands come together, wrist cuffs clicking quietly together. "And with slave markets, come runaways. Fortunes can turn quite quickly, if purchased by the wrong Master. Slavery is an ancient and greatly beneficial practice on Torei, of course, but there are always... rough edges. Thus the runaways." [[Euphoria seems genuinely saddened by the prospect.->NunTruantQHub]]

The question seems to catch Euphoria by surprise. "I would have no idea, in truth. We do advertise our programs in some limited ways, but never to anyone associated with the Liberty Society. Our faith expressely condones and encourages slavery, after all. There are very few things with which we would see eye to eye." She considers the subject further, then leans in, towering over you in the process. "A suggestion, if you would have it. Our Convent here is a place of pilgrimage, and on occasion we receive visitors by carriage. I have come to learn from these interactions that the carriages are expensive, and thus do not ask many questions. The Lead system requires ID cards, and the local train system a pass for freewombs. If one were a runaway slave, the carriages may be their best bet at escaping. Try the Transport Platform, ask them about this. It seems a useful thing to do." (set: $TruantQuestCarr to true) [["Thank you, that is a useful suggestion.->NunTruantQHub]]

The portion of the platform dedicated to the carriages is by far the smallest, but also the least busy. Those waiting in the handful of seats nearby look universally wealthy. One woman in particular, dressed in pure black, is attended by a pair of collared girls in bright yellow outfits that provide little in modesty. (if: $Slave is true)[The carriage attendant, a woman in tight blue laminate, immediately tries to drive you away by asserting quite loudly that carriages were not for slaves. It takes several excruciating minutes for you to present your identification card, the red lettering of FREEWOMB along the time finally sating her-- grudgingly.](else:)[The carriage attendant, a woman in tight blue laminate, is quick to offer you a greeting paired with a bright smile.] "Were you interested in finding a carriage ride today? Or perhaps scheduling one?" [["I was wondering if you had a scheduled carriage under the name Amadori?"->TruantQTransNo]]

Like many transporation hubs, the platform has a large area set aside for those waiting for whatever service they intended to engage. While a few men can be seen, the fast majority are women. Your instructions, to look for Elizabeth said to be waiting upon a red bench, becomes immediately clear as you survey the area: every thickly padded seat is black, excepting one. It's bright red finish had to have been what Michael was referring to. *Two* women are found there, however. One sits with crossed legs, a datapad held against her knee that she is reading. Her hair is blonde, and her clothing distinctly un-Torean. In a sea of laminate, she is wearing regular textiles. The other woman is black of hair, and cloaked in a simple one piece black laminate dress. It ends quite high on her thighs. [[Approach the blonde, she is obviously of the Liberty Society.->TruantQLizWrong]] [[Approach the ravened haired woman, who must be of the Liberty Society.->TruantQLizRight]]

Your approach draws a shadow over the seated woman, who ignores the intrusion for at least a minute before looking up to you. Her eyes run across (if: $Blue is true)[your blue laminate and assortment of restraints, a frown forming.] (if: $Smoke is true)[your semi-transparent laminate, and the skin visible beneath as a frown forms.] (if: $Brand is true)[your branded catsuit, reading the various adverts with a pinched look.] (if: $Sec is true)[your glossy secretarial outfit, from tight bodice to hip-hugging skirt.] (if: $Slave is true)[your standardized slave-rated uniform, a frown sharply forming.] [["Would your name be Elizabeth, by chance?"->TruantQLizWrong2]] [["Have you, by chance, ever heard of a particular... Liberty Society?"->TruantQLizWrong2]]

The blonde rises, departing at your approach-- perhaps responding to a boarding call for the carriages across the concourse. You take her position, seated nearby but looking directly at the black haired woman. [["Are you Elizabeth?"->TruantQLiz3]] [["Michael sent me."->TruantQLiz3]]

The blonde blanches, rising suddenly. "I have no idea what you're talking about, girl. You must have the wrong person-- I certainly do not associate myself with women who indulge in this horrid planet's customs. Leave me be." She promptly marches off, leaving you listing in her wake. As soon as she is a fair bit away, however, the remain black-haired woman gestures sharply for you to a seat-- nearby, but not facing her. "Michael send you?" [["You're Elizabeth?"->TruantQLiz3]] [["He did."->TruantQLiz3]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/7dctUjB.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> "That idiot," she curses, momentarily holding a hand to face. It allows you a chance to observe her closer. Unlike Michael, who wore the textiles that marked him so obviously as an offworlder, Elizabeth wears laminate as you do. Her outfit is relatively simply, however, especially by Torean standards. A one piece dress with long sleeves and a short skirt, knee high stockings all but unadorned, and heeled shoes that trended far more towards *sensible* then full stilleto. "He must trust you, if he sent you this way. And is must be regarding a certain... missing woman? What's your interest?" [["A Truant Officer asked me to look for Amadori."->TruantQ1]] [["I'm just curious if the Liberty Society is involved."->TruantQ2]] [["I don't have any interest in it."->TruantQ3]]

"Shit, shit, shit," she curses, wide-eyed even as she tries to keep her poise given so many potential observers. "I knew this wouldn't be easy. If they're employing unaffiliated freewombs... anyone could be an informant." Elizabeth sighs. "But if Michael trusts you, we can use you." [["How?"->TruantQ4]]

"Like hell you are," she responds, forcibly. A passerby glances your way, and Elizabeth waits for her to move on before continuing. "Michael wouldn't have sent you to me unless someone sent *you* after Amadori. Which means the Ministry of Truants is using unaffiliated freewombs in their search. Shit." Elizabeth sighs. "But if Michael trusts you, we can use you." [["How?"->TruantQ4]]

"Like hell you don't," she responds, forcibly. A passerby glances your way, and Elizabeth waits for her to move on before continuing. "Michael wouldn't have sent you to me unless someone sent *you* after Amadori. Which means the Ministry of Truants is using unaffiliated freewombs in their search. Shit." Elizabeth sighs. "But if Michael trusts you, we can use you." [["How?"->TruantQ4]]

"It's simple, if you're willing to take a risk. The Liberty Society cannot be caught up in this Amadori situation. Officially? We don't touch runaways. Unofficially?" She glances to you, offering a slip of laminate. Taking it reveals the thin sheet to be a ticket stub, ripped in half as if already used to board what the label across the top identifies as the local train system. "Early this morning we threw the Ministry of Truants off the trail by having someone use the train with Amadori's credentials. Obviously the Officers found nothing when they searched it before leaving. If you present the Officer who hired you with that ticket stub, it should convince them Amadori has fled further afield." [["So the Society does help runaways?"->TruantRunQ]] [["Where is Amadori actually, then?"->TruantRunAma]] [[Take the ticket. "The Officer offered me 400 credits and a train pass for finding the girl."->TruantQ5]]

"I couldn't tell you that if I wanted to," Elizabeth hisses in response, your question having clearly landed a bit too close to secrets deeply held. "The way we operate, each safehouse operates independently. Some don't help runaways, probably most don't. But some of us aren't content with that, we need to do *something*. Even if its a drop in the bucket." Resolve fills her voice. "This is one of those drops." [["Where is Amadori actually, then?"->TruantRunAma]] [[Take the ticket. "The Officer offered me 400 credits and a train pass for finding the girl."->TruantQ5]]

"Somewhere safe, until things cool down. That's all I'm going to tell you. There isn't any reason you need to know more, it would just make you complicit anyway. You do *not* want to mess with the Ministry of Truants if it can be avoided." [["So the Society does help runaways?"->TruantRunQ]] [[Take the ticket. "The Officer offered me 400 credits and a train pass for finding the girl."->TruantQ5]]

"Then we counter offer," Elizabeth replies, sharply. "We don't have... the funding the Ministry has, but we do have a train pass too. Was going to use it for Amadori, but its not needed anymore. You can have that, and 300 credits if you tell the Officer Amadori escaped this morning." She meets your gaze, if only for a brief moment. "Deal?" [["Deal."->TruantQAccept]] [["The slave needs to be returned. No deal."->TruantQDecline]] [["I don't intend to mess with the Ministry. No deal."->TruantQDecline]]

Elizabeth gives you the laminate ticket stub, not quite smiling, but pleased nevertheless. "Good. Like I said, tell the Officer that recruited you that Amadori must have left. That you... found that stub in a bathroom garbage, or something. Just make the lie good. If they know you're lying..." (set: $TruantQLie to true) It's something the woman does not explore further, instead dismissing you with a quick gesture. "I'll find you after we see you speak with the Officer." [[You nod, and rise, stepping away from Elizabeth.->Transport Hub III]]

Her brows fall, a growl rising quietly beneath the words that follow. "Then get the hell out of here." (set: $TruantQLieNo to true) [[You leave her, but remember her face. It could come in handy, and Amadori is still out there.->Transport Hub III]]

The transit employee doesn't even need to check the terminal before you. "I certainly don't, ma'am. There is a standing order from the Ministry of Truants on precisely that name, apparently she's a runaway of some sort? Foolish girl." The stewardess is collared herself. [["I'm actually working with the Ministry of Truants. Did you have any scheduled pickups, perhaps? Anything out of the ordinary?"->TruantQTrans2]]

This time the woman does turn to her terminal, quickly pulling up several pages of data. The first bears a logo for the Ministry of Truants. "I hope you will excuse the necessity, but I had to check to ensure you were cooperating with an Officer," she explains, dismissing the information as she instead brings up a transit list. "As you can see, we do fairly brisk work-- right now we have 35 scheduled pickups. Most of them would be for freewombs fairly well off. The wealthiest have private carriages, and ours services trend towards being too expensive for anyone else." Thirty five scheduled pickups is far too many to follow up on. You have to narrow it down. [["Do any of the scheduled picks seem out of the ordinary, in any manner?"->TruantQTrans3]]

"Hmm..." the attendant hums, running a finger down the list. She nearly reaches the bottom before stopping. "Well, this one is interesting. It doesn't have a name listed for pickup. Whoever scheduled it paid in cash, and indicated the carriage driver is simply picking up a crate of some sort. It's scheduled for pickup in two days, with no one accompanying the crate itself. She looks up. "I must admit some confusion. There are much simpler, cheaper ways to transport a mere crate." And that makes it suspicious. Two days from now would ensure the carriage itself wouldn't get caught in another checkpoint like you had originally been picked up in. It's a solid lead. "Here," the attendant says, giving you a slip of laminate. "I wrote down the address of the pickup for you. Quinnette Way, it's not a far walk." [["Thank you, this has been very helpful."->LizIntercept]] [[Nod, and step away.->LizIntercept]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/7dctUjB.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> (set: $Quinn to true) You've barely made it out of the carriage waiting room before a woman in black laminate intercepts you, pulling you behind an advertisement stand for a moment's of privacy. (if: $TruantQLie is true or $TruantLieNo is true)[It's Elizabeth again, her frustration evident. "Why are you investigating this?" She hisses, hands curling into fists at her side. "Michael trusted you, and this is how you're repaying him? Let this drop!" Before you can even respond, she pulls away, clearly unwilling to be seen much longer with you. Regardless, you still have the Quinnette Way lead you could explore.](else:)[She wears a laminate oufit, but one that's rather simple by Torean standards. A black single piece top with long sleeves descends to a short skirt, accessorized with stockings below, and shoe with heels that are more sensible then stiletto. Her eyes are wide, giving her a bit of a harried look as she looks to you. "We need to talk."] (if: $TruantQLie is true or $TruantLieNo is true)[[[You step back, looking about the Transport Platform.->Transport Hub III]]](else:)[[["Talk about... what, exactly?"->LizIntercept2]]]

"I know you're searching for the runaway, Amadori," she challenges, bluntly. "I don't know what your motivations are for that, and I don't really care. What we want from you is for the investigation to end. My name is Elizabeth, I'm from the Liberty Society, and I have a deal for you." She sounds earnest, and a bit concerned. Revealing her identity like that had to be a calculated risk. [[["What sort of deal?"->TruantQ4]]]

Navigating the streets of Torei is never a simple task. Between sights so very unique to the planet itself, and the tendency for roads to wander confusingly, its easy to get lost. But with some perseverance you manage to find the address the Transit employee had given you, on Quinnette Way. The intended pickup spot for the "crate" turns out to be a simple warehouse, the building clearly kept up, but currently unoccupied. At least that's what you guess after observing it for a few minutes. The doors do not open, and no one can be seen entering or leaving. [[Try the front door.->Quinn2]] [[Head around back, less conspicious that way.->Quinn2Fail]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/ICJV3gv.jpg"> The door is plastered with a warning sign, indicating trespassers would be reported to the Ministry of Truants. It's hardly a threat to you given your purpose, and with a nudge of your shoulder the portal opens-- it had not been locked. Inside reveals the warehouse to look... very much like you would expect a warehouse to look, stacked boxes and crates competing with heaping sacks for space along the floor and shelves. Dingy lights cast down on the slatted floors you walk along, heels clicking loudly upon the hard surface. It's not a particularly large warehouse, but searching it top to bottom would take all day. Looking around, you try to pick out objects of interest. [[A desk sits near the center of the large room, several datapads upon it. Seems like a good enough place to start.->QuinnDesk]] [[The heavy sacks, over to the side. Those could hold anything!->QuinnSacks]] [[One pallet in particular is quite glossy, and draws your attention.->QuinnPallet]] [[You remember the remote the Officer gave you, for Amadori's implants. Could using that flush her out?->QuinnBadRemote]] [[An entire wall is dedicated to crates, perhaps you will see something there?->QuinnCrates]]

Following a chainlink fence, you make your way around the back of the quiet building. A retaining wall marks the end of the property, and its encroachment on the building provides little room to maneuver. For once, in the history of suspicious warehouses, there is no back door to be found. [[Front door it is, then.->Quinn2]]

You approach the plastic desk, a light positioned over it allowing you examine a variety of papers and invoices strewn across it. The most prominent is a handwritten missive, a reminder to *lock the door when leaving for lunch.* Clearly whomever watched over the warehouse had failed regardless of the note. Other papers note the arrival and departure times of various shipments, a glimpse into the small storage operation obviously occurring here. Running through the list of upcoming departures, you cross reference it with the Transit employee's scheduled pickup time in two days... only to find the page missing. The last entry instead notes the upcoming departure of "pre-formed slave uniforms". (if: $QuinnQ1 is true)[Having found what had turned out to be the missing pages, you again consult the upcoming schedule-- and find exactly what you are looking for. Among the wall of crates on the far wall, in Section X, on Shelf 1, a crate stamped #22B is to be picked up by carriage in two days.(set: $QuinnQ2 to true)] Where to next? [[The heavy sacks, over to the side. Those could hold anything!->QuinnSacks]] [[One pallet in particular is quite glossy, and draws your attention.->QuinnPallet]] [[You remember the remote the Officer gave you, for Amadori's implants. Could using that flush her out?->QuinnBadRemote]] [[An entire wall is dedicated to crates, perhaps you will see something there?->QuinnCrates]]

The heavy laminate sacks number over a dozen, rounding out at perhaps a meter in width at their roundest points. Thick ties close all but one, allowing you a glimpse into what the sacks themselves contained. Beige-colored orbs, pebble-sized and speckled with a variety of colors. Stepping back, you notice the sacks are labeled. *Dehydrated Slave Slurry*, the printing reads. Looking back into the sacks, you can't imagine having to eat the mush adding water would produce. Where to next? [[A desk sits near the center of the large room, several datapads upon it. Seems like a good enough place to start.->QuinnDesk]] [[One pallet in particular is quite glossy, and draws your attention.->QuinnPallet]] [[You remember the remote the Officer gave you, for Amadori's implants. Could using that flush her out?->QuinnBadRemote]] [[An entire wall is dedicated to crates, perhaps you will see something there?->QuinnCrates]]

Approaching the pallet reveals it to be several stacks of transparent laminate packaging, all kept together by thinner laminate wrapping so that it did not topple over during shipping. The transparency allows you to recognize immediately what each package held-- (if: $Slave is true)[prerendered uniforms of the exact type you wore, from heavy regulation mask to the plugs still lodged deep in your cunt and rear.](else:)[you saw much the same as an option in the wardrobe machine, and upon those poor unfortunates forced into wearing them on the streets. Standardized slave suits, featuring everything from heavy regulation masks, to thick plugs intended to be insterted in the front and rear, and tight laminate corsets.] Apparently transporting the individual outfits was an easier prospect then that of an entire wardrobe machine. (if: $QuinnQ1 is false)[Sitting atop the pallet is something else entirely, though-- an invoice sheet, detailing upcoming departures. By itself the page is hard to decipher, but if you could place it in context it could give you just the direction you need.(set: $QuinnQ1 to true)](else:)[You already have taken the invoice sheet that had rested upon the pallet.] Where to next? [[A desk sits near the center of the large room, several datapads upon it. Seems like a good enough place to start.->QuinnDesk]] [[The heavy sacks, over to the side. Those could hold anything!->QuinnSacks]] [[You remember the remote the Officer gave you, for Amadori's implants. Could using that flush her out?->QuinnBadRemote]] [[An entire wall is dedicated to crates, perhaps you will see something there?->QuinnCrates]]

Conceptually, its a sound idea. But pressing the remote's button provides little in the way of response. The Truant Officer had indicated such a device required a very close proximity to work, after all. Perhaps you would have more luck if you could narrow down your area of search further? Where to next? [[A desk sits near the center of the large room, several datapads upon it. Seems like a good enough place to start.->QuinnDesk]] [[The heavy sacks, over to the side. Those could hold anything!->QuinnSacks]] [[One pallet in particular is quite glossy, and draws your attention.->QuinnPallet]] [[An entire wall is dedicated to crates, perhaps you will see something there?->QuinnCrates]]

The wall of crates fills an entire side of the warehouse, stretching from ground to ceiling. Instead of the wood or standard plastic that most galactic warehouses would utilize, however, here on Torei the majority are formed from thick, crude slabs of laminate. The material was too abundant to ignore, it seemed. (if: $QuinnQ2 is true)[Having found the missing invoice, and with the cross referenced data you compiled at the desk, you now have a clear means of searching the long lines of crates. Finding the section and shelf in question is thus quick enough, but even then you're still faced with several dozen large crates. The warehouse could also have done a better job of ensuring the identifying stamps were all turned the same way, as several are not readily apparent.](else:)[Any hope of searching this many crates is quickly abandoned, as they tower above and before you. There must be a simpler way of narrowing down that which you seek. Keep looking. Where to next? [[A desk sits near the center of the large room, several datapads upon it. Seems like a good enough place to start.->QuinnDesk]] [[The heavy sacks, over to the side. Those could hold anything!->QuinnSacks]] [[One pallet in particular is quite glossy, and draws your attention.->QuinnPallet]] [[You remember the remote the Officer gave you, for Amadori's implants. Could using that flush her out?->QuinnBadRemote]]] (if: $QuinnQ2 is true)[[[Examine each of the boxes, in order.->QuinnBoxCheck]]] (if: $QuinnQ2 is true)[[[Was that something shiny, between the boxes there?->QuinnBoxCoin]]] (if: $QuinnQ2 is true)[[[It's time to use Amadori's rainbow box remote-- hit the shock button.->QuinnBoxShock]]] (if: $QuinnQ2 is true)[[[It's time to use Amadori's rainbow box remote-- hit the vibrate button.->QuinnBoxVibe]]]

Just over a dozen boxes doesn't seem that steep of an order at first, but it quickly proves difficult. Your laminate was not intended for heavy lifting, and you soon find yourself panting from the effort of shifting the boxes(if: $Level is > 1)[ with your feet, given the armbinder that still holds your arms so securely]. Think smarter, not harder. (if: $QuinnQ2 is true)[[[Was that something shiny, between the boxes there?->QuinnBoxCoin]]] (if: $QuinnQ2 is true)[[[It's time to use Amadori's rainbow box remote-- hit the shock button.->QuinnBoxShock]]] (if: $QuinnQ2 is true)[[[It's time to use Amadori's rainbow box remote-- hit the vibrate button.->QuinnBoxVibe]]]

Leaning down, you manage to pick out the shiny bit-- a credit clip! It appears to be worth 25 credits. (set: $debt to it + 25) Nice! (if: $QuinnQ2 is true)[[[It's time to use Amadori's rainbow box remote-- hit the shock button.->QuinnBoxShock]]] (if: $QuinnQ2 is true)[[[It's time to use Amadori's rainbow box remote-- hit the vibrate button.->QuinnBoxVibe]]]

A response comes immediately. "Mmmggh!" Surprised, pained, *and close*. With the hint, it doesn't take you long to focus in on a singular crate. Perhaps four feet long, the heavy laminate is beige colored. It looks just like any of the others surrounding it, except small holes along the edges. Breathing holes? [[Open it.->QuinnBoxOpen]]

A response comes immediately. "Mmm!" Surprised, wanting more, *and close*. With the hint, it doesn't take you long to focus in on a singular crate. Perhaps four feet long, the heavy laminate is beige colored. It looks just like any of the others surrounding it, except small holes along the edges. Breathing holes? [[Open it.->QuinnBoxOpen]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/7CGm4iu.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> You manage to kick off the head rather easily, a stiletto heel being jammed into the side proving effective against the simple nails holding it on. Sliding it off reveals... Ellia Amadori, neatly packaged for delivery. She's lying on her stomach, covered from head to toe in black laminate. Several padded inserts cradle and support her bound form, although given the way her legs are folded back and behind, it hardly looks comfortable. Her arms are locked together in a heavy armbinder, and she's gagged and hooded-- but the remote had already confirmed it could only be her. An ingenious plan, really. The Ministry of Truants was combing the streets and nearby hostels, looking for a slave on the run. Instead she had been here the entire time, securely stored, incapable of endangering herself or those assisting her-- and ready to be moved as soon as the checkpoints and searches ceased. It certainly doesn't look like an easy means of escape, but she *was* a slave. This was a small price to pay for freedom down the line. Her hood and position prevent her from seeing you, but by the way she squirms clearly she knew she had been discovered. Amadori is at your mercy. [[Shock her.->QuinnShock2]] [[Vibe her.->QuinnVibe2]] [[Reseal the box. It's time to talk with Officer Nikaido again.->QuinnEnd]]

The bound girl squirms again within her bondage, the piercing in her clit buzzing with sharp pain. She can neither escape the sensation, nor shift her bindings at all-- it must be terribly maddening. [[Shock her again.->QuinnShock3]] [[Reseal the box. It's time to talk with Officer Nikaido again.->QuinnEnd]]

The bound girl squirms again within her bondage, the piercing in her clit buzzing pleasurably. She can neither escape the sensation, nor shift her bindings at all-- it must be delightfully maddening. [[Vibe her again.->QuinnVibe3]] [[Reseal the box. It's time to talk with Officer Nikaido again.->QuinnEnd]]

Box sealed once again, you step away, backtracking away from the wall of crates and then further, out the door and into the street outside. You have little fear of Amadori wandering in your absence-- she could never escape that bondage, and for the moment you're the only one who knows her exact position. Now would be the time to return to Truant Officer Nikaido, to report on your findings, and to collect your reward. It's not too late, however, to instead take Elizabeth's suggestion and protect Amadori. A simple lie would suffice. (set: $TruantQFound to true) [[For now you step away, looking elsewhere for help.->TransitChecktoHub]]

The second roll of pleasure through her body is much the same as the first, her bound body straining against industrial-strength restraints. All she manages is to provide you with a bit of a show, her rear in particular flexing as she tries to shift her hips. [[Press and hold her vibe.->QuinnVibe4]] [[Reseal the box. It's time to talk with Officer Nikaido again.->QuinnEnd]]

The longer taste of vibration against her most sensative nub earns a further gagged squeal, followed by desperate thrashing. Did she want it to end, or did she merely want more? [[One last vibe. Let her cum.->QuinnVibe5]] [[Shock her, just before she orgasms. Deny her.->QuinnVibeDeny]] [[Reseal the box. It's time to talk with Officer Nikaido again.->QuinnEnd]]

You give her the last lick between the legs, pushing her over the top. Her black laminate body quivers as the ecstasy rolls through. "Mmmmmph... mmmgh... mmmm...." Afterward she seems to calm in the afterglow, breathing hard but-- for the briefest moment-- having forgotten her terror at being discovered. [[You begin to reseal the box, but not before leaning down. "You're welcome."->QuinnEnd]] [[You begin to reseal the box, but not before leaning down. "Slut."->QuinnEnd]] [[Reseal the box. It's time to talk with Officer Nikaido again.->QuinnEnd]]

A singular shock, so sudden, so cruel. Amadori's quivering struggle turns into a violent shake as the pain erupts, a moan emerging as you give her a dose long enough to cure any possibility of orgasm. Afterward she collapses further into her bondage. The gag and hood make it difficult to tell, but it sounds like she's crying. [[You begin to reseal the box, but not before leaning down. "You're going back where you belong."->QuinnEnd]] [[You begin to reseal the box, but not before leaning down. "Slut."->QuinnEnd]] [[Reseal the box. It's time to talk with Officer Nikaido again.->QuinnEnd]]

The second shock causes her struggle to turn into a thrash, although the heavy restraints intended to keep her immobile during shipping also do much to limit this. You can hear her trying to communicate through her gag. Perhaps begging for you to stop? The bound girl squirms again within her bondage, the piercing in her clit buzzing with sharp pain. She can neither escape the sensation, nor shift her bindings at all-- it must be terribly maddening. [[Press and hold the shock button.->QuinnShock4]] [[Reseal the box. It's time to talk with Officer Nikaido again.->QuinnEnd]]

The begging turns towards crying as you keep the shock coming, her hips thrusting widely in an attempt to escape the torture. She cannot, and does not, but is instead forced to merely endure your cruel treatment. By the time you let off she collapses into her restraints, panting heavily through the small holes to her nose the mask allowed. A singular shock, so sudden, so cruel. Amadori's quivering struggle turns into a violent shake as the pain erupts, a moan emerging as you give her a dose long enough to cure any possibility of orgasm. Afterward she collapses further into her bondage. The gag and hood make it difficult to tell, but it sounds like she's crying. [[You begin to reseal the box, but not before leaning down. "You're going back where you belong."->QuinnEnd]] [[You begin to reseal the box, but not before leaning down. "Slut."->QuinnEnd]] [[Reseal the box. It's time to talk with Officer Nikaido again.->QuinnEnd]]

The Truant Officer perks up immediately, the dark eyeshadow around her eyes making her gaze all the more intense as her attention falls on you entirely. "Well?" [[(Lie) "I found... evidence that she has escaped us, Officer."->TruantQLie]] (if: $TruantQFound is true)[[["I found the girl, in a warehouse on Quinnette Way."->TruantQTruth]]] (if: $TruantQFound is false)[[["Actually... I'm still looking. Let me get back to you on this."->TruantQuestHub]]]

Nikaido bares her teeth. "Evidence? What evidence. You better not be playing games with me, girl. If that little slut slipped away, that would be... that would..." She grasps, as if intendeding the evidence to be placed into her hand. It comes as a bit of a surprise when you do, giving her the ticket stub indicating the slave had escaped on a train this morning. [["Apparently your Officers missed her, earlier today."->TruantQLie2]]

"A warehouse?" Nikaido asks. "Give me the details." You do, from the lead that pushed you to visit the carriage station, through your search of the warehouse, and to that final crate that contained the fugitive slave. She should still be there now, you report as well, giving both the address and the partcular stamp you had noted that marked Amadori's hiding place. The Officer takes several notes on a small pad along the way, asking for your elaboration on a few minor points. Somewhere along the way she actually starts smiling. "Well, she concludes. "I'll radio to my team, have them check this out. If you want take a seat near by car, we will wait for confirmation. Then I'll give you the reward, 400 credits and a train pass, as promised." [[You take a seat, and wait.->TruantQTruth2]] [["Actually, there was one more thing... a person I met, they were definitely helping Amadori escape."->TruantQRat]]

Snatching the stub, the Officer examines it closely-- then holds it to the light, checking the watermark stamped into the corner. You can tell the point at which she determines its legitimacy by the grimace that overtakes her. "Dahom and Mazos," she curses, violently curling her hand around the stub into a fist and slamming it onto the hood of her crusier. "I *told* those fools they should have sweeped the lines this morning a second time. Runaways are *clever.*" Her eyes close as the Officer takes a deep breath before turning back to you. The mild disdain she had harbored for you only seems to have deepened. "Well, I promised you credits only if we brought the slave in. Which means you failed, and you get a hint of a reward. Only question is if you deserve to be punished." [["Punished?"->TruantQLie3]] [["This isn't my fault!"->TruantQLie3]]

Her hand rests lightly upon the shock baton slung from her waist belt, fingers tapping against the weapon for several long moments before she turns away abruptly. "Just get out of my sight." [[With a sigh, you step away, only to notice a familiar face leaning against a signpost further up the block. Elizabeth.->TruantQLie4]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/7dctUjB.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> As soon as you approach, she begins walking, indicating you should follow with a subtle shift of the head. Only after a few minutes, together with a furtive glance over her shoulder, does she finally look to you. (if: $TruantQLie is true)["So you actually went through with it," she marvels. It seems her trust had been slim, but well-placed. "And the Officer bought it. Wonderful. Amadori will be moved out of hiding in two days, and from there be on her way towards safety." Elizabeth finally stops. "Which means you have the Society's gratitude, our thanks, and your reward."](if: $TruantQLieNo is true)["I can't believe you actually went through with it, after saying you wouldn't on the Transport Platform." Her tone is incredulous, her faith in you having been all but nonexistent. "I almost skipped watching for your report. But I'm glad I didn't. Amadori will be moved out of hiding in two days, and from there be on her way towards safety." Elizabeth finally stops. "Which means you have the Society's gratitude, our thanks, and your reward."] [["300 credits, and a train pass."->TruantQLie5]]

"300 credits, and a pass for the train," she repeats, offering you a laminate card. "That's what the Transit Authority calls a Freewomb blank-- they are usually only given out by the Ministry of Truants. So don't lose it, getting that one for Amadori was hard enough. Now she doesn't need it, and its yours." (set: $debt to it + 300)(set: $TrainPass to true)(set: $TruantQuestEnd to true)(set: $TruantStat to it + 3) She begins walking, circling back around towards where you had found her. "This is going to be where we split up, got it? You should at least go back down the road by the Officer, its less suspicious given most landmarks are that direction anyway. And as far as you should be concerned? This entire thing never happened. You never met me, the Society doesn't touch runaways, and Michael is just giving out pamphlets. Got it?" She moves to break from you, just as the round the corner back towards the officer. [["Got it."->Truant Hub]]

You take a position leaning up against the nearby building as the Officer makes her calls, coordinating her subordinates towards the address you provided. It takes some time for the confirmation to come through, but when it does Nikaido slaps the hood of her vehicle loudly-- commending her people before returning the radio to its holster, and approaching you once again. "You were dead on," the Truant Officer declares, already holding out what you can ascertain is the promised train pass. "And the 400 credits will be in your account shortly, along with the train pass I promised. The Ministry of Truants appreciates your cooperation in this investigation, and the rightful return of property to its proper owner. I can assure you, Amadori will be properly punished for causing so much trouble. Hopefully her owner will take my advice and just chip the girl. But I digress. You're... free to go, I suppose. Thanks again." (set: $debt to it + 400)(set: $TruantQuestEnd to true)(set: $TrainPass to true)(set: $TruantStat to it + 1) [[Free to go, and quite a bit richer. A good outcome, at least for you.->Truant Hub]]

"Did you get a name?" the Officer inquires, taking a sharp breath. You can almost feel a predatory surge emanate from the woman. "Hell, I hope its a woman. Aiding or abetting a runaway carries a mandatory sentence of enslavement for those found guilty... Give me a name, a description." [["Actually... I didn't get a name, and I can't really remember her..."->TruantQRatHide]] [["Her name is Elizabeth, she should be found on the Transport Platform. Black of hair, black dress..."->TruantQRatIdentify]]

The Officer's eyes narrow, lips pursing. So close to a *true* prize, but you had denied her. Were you not also providing the slave she had been searching for, you get the sense this would not have gone well for you. As it is, she directs you onto the sidewalk. "Wait here while I call my people, confirm your details. Once we have eyes on Amadori, you will get your reward." [[You follow her commands.->TruantQTruth2]]

You give up everything you have on Elizabeth, which Officer Nikaido eventually relates to other Ministry officials near the Transport Platform. Her smile only deepens when, after some waiting, an image comes through on her datapad. <img src="https://i.imgur.com/bHL4K48.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> Elizabeth hooded and cuffed, moments before carried off for arrest. Nikaido turns on you, almost unable to contain her excitement. Her hands clasp against your shoulders as she leans in. "That one just earned herself a collar. How *wonderful*. And you? You earned yourself a bonus. I'm going to mark you down for a 75 credit bonus, atop that which we promised for Amadori. You've earned it, for turning in another freewomb like that. An offworlder too. Now... take a seat, or something, and I will call Amadori's position in." (set: $debt to it + 75)(set: $TruantStat to it + 1) [[You take a seat, and wait.->TruantQTruth2]]

Unlike your experience with the wardrobe machine, here things are done in the old manner. Without eyes to see you are guided through dressing in pre-formed laminated, the cool material covering you in several adjoining layers. Just what you bore is hard to determine, but some sensations do provide hints of intent-- stricture at your waist, indicating a corset. Tall heels. And heavy steel, one of the last additions that could only be cuffs, which fastened to your wrists and ankles. Just *what* you had become is only revealed when the light finally returns, this time white and clear, from beneath your small stage. [[And thus comes dawn, a neon glow.->NunRevFinal13]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/2UPfyWF.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> You blink away the darkness as light washes over you, reflecting in slick waves across the laminate uniform you now bear. Gone are your old vestments, dissolved back to their primordial laminate composite and replaced with something far less secular. A black catsuit provides the base layer, but so much more is layered atop it. From the heavy corset, to the long gloves and stockings, to the coif and habit that crown your head-- you are a Sister of the Order now, like Euphoria(if: $NunEnd1 is true or $NunEnd2 is true)[, and perhaps more identically, in the image of Dahlia]. The other nuns kneel around your platform, but Euphoria remains at your side, her red eyes watching your reaction more then anything else. She offers you a hand, alongside a command. "Rise, Sister." [[You comply.->NunRevFinal14]]

Standing proves to be an experience all its own, as you for the first time balance on your new heels-- much like those you had chosen from the wardrobe, but invested with... so much more, when collected together with so much else like this. "You now bear the regalia of our Order," Euphoria continues. "You have been cuffed at ankle and wrist, so that you may at all times remember that you are a slave-- a woman in her natural place, enslaved and providing service for your superiors. Those would be your Elder and Superior Sisters in the Order, as well as freewombs and any male you come across in your duties." In her hands she holds one last circlet of steel, the metal carefully inscribed along the band while the front has a heavy metal look, to be used with leashes or any other sort of restraint. A collar. *Your* collar. Euphoria holds it aloft. "Going forth, you will take a new name to match your new role within our order. By tradition we utilize the names of flowers for our new members, and given that you were born an offworlder we have chosen a name for you to match that heritage-- being from beyond Torei. Do you accept this collar, and your new name, Sister?" [["I do."->NunRevFinal15]]

The words are a fresh struggle, the laminate pulled tight against your jaw making it difficult. But you manage, and and Euphoria steps behind you. You feel her lift your habit, sliding the collar in until its pressed tightly against your throat. It's cold, like the planet itself perhaps, but warms to your touch. And then it snaps closed, magnetic locks clicking shut. Euphoria is joined by the rest of your new Sisters in reverence, their heads bowing as those with cloaks draw them back, exposing the colored panties pulled tight between their legs. "Welcome, Sister *Azalea.*" (set: $Status to 3) [["It's... an honor, Sisters."->NunRevFinal16]] [[Bow your head, and perform a reverence in return.->NunRevFinal16]]

Other proceedings follow. Further rules and expectations are given to you. One of the Sisters takes your identification card, returning with a new one later. You have taken a new name, Sister Azalea, and the ID reflects that. Perhaps of more immediate concern however is what's stamped along the top. Instead of the bright red word FREEWOMB, you now are labeled in pure black as a SLAVE. Eventually Sister Euphoria clips a short leash to your new collar, and directs you with it. Together you leave the circle of light so deep inside the Convent, returning to darkness for a time before being led once more to the light of the world outside. The garden, and beyond that the wrought-iron gate. "You're wondering where we are going," Euphoria notes, pausing momentarily to look at you. Your uniforms may be similar, but she seems to fill it out so much more intensely, from the swell of her hips and bust, to her sheer height. It's hard not to be intimidated. [["Yes, Sister."->NunRevFinal17]] [["I am, Sister."->NunRevFinal17]]

(set: $Test1 to 5) [[Next]]

(if: $Test1 is 3 or 5 or 7)[WORKWROK](else:)[FAIL]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/j5fLXo9.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> You turn to find, to your surprise, a vehicle actually utilizing the normally quiet roads. Although perhaps 'vehicle' is a bit of a stretch, as you're confronted with a woman seated primly on a small, one person carriage. Instead of horses or an engine of some sort, another woman is merely hitched to the front, the girl-made-pony providing the necessary locomotion. For now she is stilled however, eyes down and breathing deeply. Drool runs down from the bit gag between her teeth. "You (if: $Slave is true)[, Slave,](else:)[, girl,]" the carriage's rider repeats, gesturing to you with the whip she holds in her hand. "I have need of you." [[Step out into the street, and approach the strange carriage.->Ponygirl2]] [[Ignore her and carry on, you have other concerns.->PonygirlNo]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/qzbJK7u.jpg" width="50%" height="50%"> You have come across a small alcove, the architecture of the building above overhanging the sidewalk. In that shadowed space you find a woman bound on her knees, a strict looking bar attached to her throat conspiring with the cuffs and chains at ankle and wrist that have immobilized her. A ball seated behind her teeth prevents anything approaching speech, but as soon as you meet her gaze she clearly tries to gesture for you to approach. "You can ignore her," another woman, seated on a bench nearby, comments without looking up from the book she holds. "Poor thing is almost out of time anyway." [[You do ignore her, and continue on your way->TransitCheckReturn]] [["She's... almost out of time?"->TheBeggar]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/ueFwYim.jpg" width="50%" height="50%"> The woman is dressed in pure black, from the laminate leotard she wears with such an aggressive cut across her chest, to the long-sleeved bolero jacket upon her shoulders, to the knee high boots strapped to each leg. A riding crop hangs from her hip as well, as if she needed anything more to so clearly occupy the role of dominatrix. And yet, she is collared. (if: $debtSlave is true)[You know her. From the photoshoot with Michael that had gone so terribly off the rails. The breaking pole, your submission... the *Governess.* "Well look who it is." Clearly she remembers you.](else:)[Her deep black hair frames a pale face and bright red lips as she notices your stare, amusement crossing the latter as she addresses you with narrowed eyes. "Yes, slut?"] (if: $debtSlave is true)[ [["Oh, uh-- hello."->GovMet]] [["Oh, you again..."->GovMet]] [[Turn around and walk away. You are NOT dealing with her again.->TransitCheckReturn]] ](else:)[ [["Excuse me?"->GovNew]] [["I am NOT a slut."->GovNew]] ]

The crowd blocking the path is uniformally female, each of them wearing identical red outfits with matching backpacks. They appear to be moving together through a doorway into a larger courtyard, the sign above labeling it as *Naram-Sin Finishing Academy, Annex 4.* [[You cross the street, avoiding the crowd.->School1]] [["Hello? What's going on?"->School1F]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/MeYcD3a.png" width="50%" height="50%"> Turning the corner, you break into the clear along an elevated stretch of road. It allows you a rare view out over the neighborhood, and beyond that a great swirling storm pouring slowly into the city. A silent tempest, perhaps only a few minutes away. "Beautiful isn't it?" A muffled voice to your side comments. (if: $Slave is true)["Good thing you're masked. Does your owner know you're out like this, though?"](else:)["You better get your mask on, though."] In the distance, a storm siren sounds. (if: $Slave is true)[[["Huh?"->StormSlave]]](else:)[[["Mask?"->StormReg]]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/ltawLLM.jpg" width="50%" height="50%"> The line blocking your path turns out to be... something one would only find on Torean streets-- a collection of women, all wearing laminate office attire(if: $Sec is true)[ much like your own], chained together by the collars around their throats and the cuffs linking their hands before them. A slave coffle. You appear to have caught them just before entering what could only be their place of employment, the neon sign out front identifying it as *Conrad and Company Technical Support.* Passing them is easy enough, but you cannot help but marvel at the size of the line compared to that of the company-- Torei's strange demographics apparently ensured any number of slaves could be used in lieu of more modern means of accomplishing something. Did that make them more efficent, or less? You've seen how cheap slaves come here. [[Something to ponder as you continue on.->TransitCheckReturn]]

Among so many laminate clad women, you finally come across something new-- one apparently *walking* another like some manner of pet. Approaching closer, you find what could only be the Mistress standing with leash in hand-- rummaging in her purse. At her feet, a girl in brown laminate crawls. She's covered from head to toe, with the mask in particular lacking any mouth-- but sporting a pair of ears that emerge from the top of her head. A catgirl. [[Walk past, and ignore the scene.->TransitCheckReturn]] [[Approach the pair.->Cat1]]

Pausing in your walk down the street, you glance upward, to a display board. You've passed several on your travels thus far, the neon screens displaying a variety of notices intended for the general populace. Had you been paying a bit *more* attention you might have been warned about that storm coming in, awhile back. Now however, a new message catches your eye: (set: $FreeLead to true) **Curfew Approaching:** free transport via the Lead system is now available for all qualifying freewombs. [[Something to remember, as you continue on your way.->TransitCheckReturn]]

You cannot shake that eerie feeling, that you're not alone-- and indeed you are not, the sidewalks still quite packed despite the approach of dusk. But those strangers are each their own world, separate, mere fellow travelers. What you feel is *different*. Something is watching you, perhaps even following. Maybe you have even felt it all day, being so suddenly in the grips of paranoia distorts everything. [[Ignore the sensation, continue towards your destination.->TransitCheckReturn]] [[A long, quiet alley looms to your right. Enter it suddenly, whomever follows must do the same.->Daemon1]]

The ponygirl in purple laminate looks at you wearily as you approach, but its the rider behind who draws your attention, waving you forward as she disembarks. (if: $Level is 0 or 1)["Yes, you there, good," she greets, checking the chronometer on her wrist before pointing towards her carrige. "You are not busy, I suspect? Of course not. I have need of you." One foot up on the curb, she directs your attention to the ponygirl next with a flick of her whip. The harnessed slave visibly starts, sliding a hooved boot against the ground afterward as she tries to work off the anxiety. "I have an errand to run in this store," the rider continues. "If you were to brush and water my pony, I would pay you 50 credits upon my return. The supplies are in my rickshaw." She meant the carriage. "You will do this, yes?"](if: $Level is > 1)["Yes, you there, good," she greets, checking the chronometer on her wrist before pointing towards her carrige. "You are not busy, I suspect? Of course not. I have need of you." One foot up on the curb, she directs your attention to the ponygirl next with a flick of her whip. The harnessed slave visibly starts, sliding a hooved boot against the ground afterward as she tries to work off the anxiety. "I have an errand to run in this store," the rider continues. "Were you not in that binder, I could use you to brush my pony. As it is, I need you only to watch over her, this particular establishment not having a hitching post. I would pay you 50 credits upon my return." "You will do this, yes?"] [[You're not her slave. Turn around and leave.->PonygirlNo]] (if: $Level is 0 or 1)[[["I can do that, yes."->PonygirlFull]]] (if: $Level is > 1)[[["I can do that, yes."->PonygirlNoArm]]]

You ignore whatever the rider had been demanding next, instead stepping back into the passing crowds, returning to your original goal. [[The rider's frustrated calls are soon lost to the crowd.->TransitCheckReturn]]

"Wonderful," the rider replies promptly. "I will return shortly." She marches into the nearby store, leaving you in the street with the violet-laminated ponygirl. Checking the carriage allows you to easily find a bottle of water and small hand brush, the later more a buffer then anything bristled. The ponygirl finally meets your eyes as you approach her, shuffling hesitantly in her harness and restraints. The collar she wears clearly identifies her as a slave, as if the armbinder and gag did not already. Of those, the gag in particularly seems a difficult thing to bear, the metal pulled deep into her mouth, an integrated tongue suppressor preventing anything approaching speech. That functionality is confirmed when the girl attempts to communicate, managing instead only a quiet moan. [[Start with the water.->PonygirlFull2]]

"Wonderful," the rider replies promptly. "I will return shortly." She marches into the nearby store, leaving you in the street with the violet-laminated ponygirl. The ponygirl finally meets your eyes as you approach her, shuffling hesitantly in her harness and restraints. The collar she wears clearly identifies her as a slave, as if the armbinder and gag did not already. Of those, the gag in particularly seems a difficult thing to bear, the metal pulled deep into her mouth, an integrated tongue suppressor preventing anything approaching speech. That functionality is confirmed when the girl attempts to communicate, managing instead only a quiet moan. [["How did you end up like that?"->PonygirlHow]] [["Looks like you're having fun."->PonygirlFun]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/1kPeZLQ.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> She takes to the bottle as soon as you raise it, greedily gulping the water that pours past her gag. Being hand-fed so blatantly in the street doesn't seem to bother her a bit, although you get a sense any resistance had been broken during her earlier work-- the rider had been pushing her hard. In the parlance of such things, she is truly well lathered. [[Brushing, next.->PonygirlFull3]]

Without bristles, the brush more accurately shines the glossy violet laminate of the ponygirl, but you work quickly through the effort nevertheless. It's attention she clearly enjoys at the very least, turning into your hand where ever her bondage allows. Laminate remained slick and reflective for days at a time, making much of the effort little more then small touch-ups-- but the girl's rider clearly cared about maintaining proper presentation if she preferred this means of travel. By the time you're wrapping up only a few minutes of passed, but the rider is quite prompt-- she emerges with a small bag in hand, coming up alongside you to examine the work. The ponygirl shifts between skittish concern and apparent excitement when her owner seizes her reins. A sharp command provides some manner of unspoken command, causing the girl to take several prancing steps forward. It seems to please the rider, as she climbs up into the seat afterward. "Everything appears to be in order," she notes, then flips a 50 credit clip into your waiting hands. You're spared no more of her attention as the rider picks up her whip, hanging it briefly off the side of the carriage before wielding it in a sudden flash of intense motion. The tip cracks in response, moments before striking the ponygirl between her legs, wrapping up against her cunt with a sudden snap. It's another unspoken command, as the ponygirl jolts into motion, high-stepping down the street. The carriage and rider are pulled along, and soon they turn the corner out of sight. (set: $debt to it + 50) [[A lucrative diversion. Now you have to try and remember what direction you were heading.->TransitCheckReturn]]

Her brows fall, the gag between her teeth making an expression there hard, but you manage to make out a frown of sorts. It only takes a moment to puzzle out what her response meant: the fact she hadn't spoken it aloud makes it obvious enough. The gag doesn't really allow her to answer such questions. Perhaps you should try something simpler. [["Having fun?"->PonygirlFun]] [["Does your owner always push you this hard?"->PonygirlOwn]]

The exhausted girl takes a moment, but she does nod her head-- enthusastically even. Despite being bound, displayed so publically, and worked so hard she was still enjoying the experience. It's something to consider, at least. Torei has so *many* opportunities. [["Does your owner always push you this hard?"->PonygirlOwn]]

That question the girl has answer to, nodding immediately. You get the sense she would have happily elaborated on the subject, had the gag not been firmly between her teeth, and if her rider had not returned at just that moment. Like some manner of demon, or perhaps guardian angel, it seemed merely mentioning her summoned the woman. She carries a small bag, but checks her slave before depositing it upon the seat of the small carriage. When she moves up to your side, she carries a small credit chip, which she surrenders. (set: $debt to it + 50) "50 credits," she notes. "Did she give you any trouble?" [["None at all."->PonygirlNone]] [["I think she wanted you to push her harder."->PonygirlHard]]

"As I expected," the rider intones. Reaching up, she taps her slave's chin, an apparent command. The girl tips her head back slightly in response, allowing her owner to press a bottle to her lips, giving her a long drink of water. <img src="https://i.imgur.com/1kPeZLQ.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> She takes to the bottle as soon as its offered, greedily gulping the water that pours past her gag. Being hand-fed so blatantly in the street doesn't seem to bother her a bit, although you get a sense any resistance had been broken during her earlier work-- the rider *had* been pushing her hard. Eventually the bottle is pulled back, and the she climbs back up into her seat. You're spared no more of her attention as the rider picks up her whip, hanging it briefly off the side of the carriage before wielding it in a sudden flash of intense motion. The tip cracks in response, moments before striking the ponygirl between her legs, wrapping up against her cunt with a sudden snap. It's another unspoken command, as the ponygirl jolts into motion, high-stepping down the street. The carriage and rider are pulled along, and soon they turn the corner out of sight. [[A lucrative diversion. Now you have to try and remember what direction you were heading.->TransitCheckReturn]]

"Does she now?" The rider asks, amused. Before the pony can attempt a response, however, her owner reaches up to tap her slave's chin, an apparent command. The girl tips her head back slightly in response, allowing a bottle to be pressed to her lips, giving her a long drink of water. <img src="https://i.imgur.com/1kPeZLQ.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> She takes to the bottle as soon as its offered, greedily gulping the water that pours past her gag. Being hand-fed so blatantly in the street doesn't seem to bother her a bit, although you get a sense any resistance had been broken during her earlier work-- the rider *had* been pushing her hard. Eventually the bottle is pulled back, and the she climbs back up into her seat. You're spared no more of her attention as the rider picks up her whip, hanging it briefly off the side of the carriage before wielding it in a sudden flash of intense motion. The tip cracks in response, moments before striking the ponygirl between her legs, wrapping up against her cunt with a sudden snap. It's another unspoken command, as the ponygirl jolts into motion, high-stepping down the street. The carriage and rider are pulled along, but just before the corner where you lose sight of them another strike is delivered to the pony's flank-- moving her from a comfortable canter to a hard gallop. It seems your suggestion to push her harder had been taken up. [[A lucrative diversion. Now you have to try and remember what direction you were heading.->TransitCheckReturn]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/qzbJK7u.jpg" width="50%" height="50%"> The seated woman pauses her book, looking to you for a moment. "Offworlder," she notes, licking a finger before turning a page and pulling her gaze back down. "Think of what you see before you as a beggar," she explains. "Usually that means simply being without credits, but this... this is worse. The poor thing is in *debt.* (if: $Level is > 0)[Judging by your gear, you know the feeling.] How does a freewomb escape such debt? Collateral bonds. Accept a cuff, or two, or four... some chains... and find someone to pay them off. Usually with one's body, in the traditional manner." Again she flips to a new page. "But this one is too far gone, I'm afraid. Locked in place, gagged-- a girl at least needs a hole to earn a *few* credits." [["How horrible!"->BeggarHorr]] [["Why aren't you helping her?"->BeggarWhy]] [["Maybe I can help her?"->BeggarHelp]]

The seated woman only shrugs. "Perhaps to you. But Torei doesn't really check with you on things like this, does it? I'd suggest you have a more open mind, but that's usually something one says to an offworlder fresh off the Elevator. You're at least in full laminate. It's a start." [["Why aren't you helping her?"->BeggarWhy]] [["Maybe I can help her?"->BeggarHelp]]

The seated woman holds a finger up, pausing the conversation and she works her way through the last lines of her current page. Only then does she look over the spine to you. "Because I don't particularly care to." [["How horrible!"->BeggarHorr]] [["Maybe I can help her?"->BeggarHelp]]

The bound woman seems to perk up at the suggestion, although whatever her actual response was comes out as "mmmgh!" The one on the bench closes her book, however, looking to you with pointed interest. "I didn't think you would be the charitable type. But yes, that would be completely within your means-- and a good thing too. Soon her time would run out, after all, and with bankruptcy would come enslavement. The only way to pay off her debts at that point. If our little fool is liable to work her way out of this predicament, I would think it would assist her most if you paid to unlock the cuffs or gag. I believe they have 50 credits of debt associated, each." [["I'll pay the 50 credits for those wrist cuffs to be removed."->BeggarCuffs]] [["I'll pay the 50 credits for that gag to be removed."->BeggarGag]] [["I'll pay 100 credits for both the gag and cuffs to be removed!"->BeggarBoth]] [[A foolish endeavor. Let the girl finish her descent down into a collar. Walk away.->TransitCheckReturn]]

"Mmmgh, thnng mmg!" It's all the beggar can manage as the seated woman rises, unlocking the wrist cuffs that had bound the girl's hands. Immediately she rubs at her obviously sore wrists, but before any further attempt at conversation can be made the book-reader intervenes. "I'll pay for the ankle cuffs. For a standard agreement? An hour, your hands, whatever I want." The beggar seems to want to say more to you, but the offer is obviously too good to ignore. She accepts with a nod, shifting in her remaining restraints. (set: $debt to it - 50) You're left quite perplexed at just what had happened. [["Excuse me?"->BeggarEnd]] [["What just happened."->BeggarEnd]]

You make the neccessary transaction, allowing the woman on the bench to rise, pulling the ballgag from the beggar's mouth. "T-Thank you," she manages, working her jaw after so long restrained. "Thank you, I--" (set: $debt to it - 50) "I'll pay for the ankle cuffs," the book-reader interrupts suddenly. "For a standard agreement? An hour, your tongue, however I want." The beggar seems to want to say more, but the offer is obviously too good to ignore. She accepts with a nod, shifting in her remaining restraints. "Yes ma'am." You're left quite perplexed at just what had happened. [["Excuse me?"->BeggarEnd]] [["What just happened."->BeggarEnd]]

"Charitable indeed," the book-reader notes, rising from her position. With the pay-locks opened, she's apply to free the beggar's hands, and then pull the ball gag from her mouth. "T-Thank you," she manages, working her jaw after so long restrained. "Thank you, I--" (set: $debt to it - 100) "I'll pay for the ankle cuffs," the book-reader interrupts suddenly. "For a standard agreement? An hour, your tongue and hands, however I want." The beggar seems to want to say more, but the offer is obviously too good to ignore. She accepts with a nod, shifting in her remaining restraints. "Yes ma'am." You're left quite perplexed at just what had happened. [["Excuse me?"->BeggarEnd]] [["What just happened."->BeggarEnd]]

The book reader pulls down the crotch zipper of her catsuit, circling to approach the kneeling beggar from the front. It's obvious now she was merely waiting for someone charitable enough to take pity on the girl, so she wouldn't have to pay more then necessary for simple *street service.* "You can be on your way," the book reader notes, resting a hand on the beggar's head. [["You're taking advantage of her!"->BeggarEnd2]] [[You did what you could. The beggar at least has the chance to work her way back out of the rest of her bonds. You step away.->TransitCheckReturn]]

"Sure am," comes the the response. The beggar's freedom is pressed against the book-reader's cunt, a smile forming as her eyes close. "Welcome to Torei, kid." [[You did what you could. The beggar at least has the chance to work her way back out of the rest of her bonds. There is nothing more you can do. You step away.->TransitCheckReturn]]

"Don't be so shy," the Governess replies, hooking an arm around your (if: $Brand is true or $Slave is true)[corseted] waist. It's a reminder of how strong she is that you're directed so easily. (if: $Level is > 0)[Your hobble chain(if: $Level is >= 2)[ and armbinder] don't help your cause.] "We never got the opportunity to talk," she continues. "If you enjoyed your time on my breaking pole?" [["I absolutely did NOT."->GovMetNo]] [["I, well-- yes ma'am."->GovMetYes]]

"No need to be so modest," the woman smiles, hooking an arm around your (if: $Brand is true or $Slave is true)[corseted] waist. She's shockingly strong, directly you with ease as you walk along the sidewalk. (if: $Level is > 0)[Your hobble chain(if: $Level is >= 2)[ and armbinder] don't help your cause.] "A Governess can tell when a girl is enjoying herself." She uses her free hand to run down the slick laminate across your chest, down past your waist. "But I saw that look-- you were curious, or merely attracted. Perhaps both. I have time to kill before my next appointment, and am *terribly* bored. So? Governess Yennifer at your service." [["Well... I did have some questions."->GovNewQ]] [["You are... beautiful."->GovNewCute]] [["Actually... I just really need to get going."->GovNewEnd]]

"Oh?" The Governess releases you, if only to look more directly in your eyes. "I do believe you *begged* for it, at the end." [["Because you MADE me."->GovMetNo2]] [["I didn't have a choice, you weren't going to release me!"->GovMetNo2]]

The Governess smiles wickedly, pulling you even closer, her grip possessive. "Of *course* you did. And it was only your first time. Imagine being given to the breaking pole again, and again, and again... *that's* how a proper slave is made. A girl isn't truly submissive until she's pressing her tits out, begging for more. And now all those other offworlders will see that too. Perhaps some of them will even see you in that horrid Society's printings and want that for themselves. Wouldn't that be delightful?" [["Yes ma'am."->GovMetYes2]] [["I'm not too sure..."->GovMetYesNo]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/ueFwYim.jpg" width="50%" height="50%"> "Oh?" She murmurs. "Well, I do a few minutes. Ask your questions." [["You're wearing a collar, are you a slave? You don't seem like one."->GovQCollar]] [["What exactly is a Governess anyway?"->GovQGov]] (if: $debtSlave is false)[[["You mentioned you have an appointment?"->GovQNewAppoint]]] (if: $debtSlave is true)[[["Why are you working with the Liberty Society anyway?"->GovQLib]]] (if: $debtSlave is true)[[["What happened to those other two girls, on the other poles?"->GovQGirls]]] (if: $debtSlave is false)[[["Actually... I just really need to get going."->GovNewEnd]]] (if: $debtSlave is true)[[["Actually, I really need to get going."->GovMetEnd]]]

"Oh, I like you too, slut," the Governess replies, slapping your ass. "Too bad I am kept to such a tight schedule. The *things* I would do to you. But I really should be going." [["Well... I did have some questions."->GovNewQ]] [["Actually... I just really need to get going."->GovNewEnd]]

"As you wish." The Governess presses two fingers to her red lips, them points them at you before she spins and moves away. Her riding crop flares along the way, a last glance over her shoulder meeting your gaze. "Maybe we'll see each other again, hm?" [[You watch her go, then begin walking again.->TransitCheckReturn]]

"I didn't give you a choice, it's true," she admits freely. "But that's the point, isn't it? A girl isn't truly submissive until she's pressing her tits out, begging for more. And now all those other offworlders will see that too. Perhaps some of them will even see you in that horrid Society's printings and want that for themselves. Wouldn't that be delightful?" [["Yes ma'am."->GovMetYes2]] [["I'm not too sure..."->GovMetYesNo]]

"That's the spirit," she grins. "I *like* you. If only my Master needed another cunt, I would certainly give you the recommendation. Alas. I suppose I should get going anyway, I do have another appointment coming up soon." The Governess steps back. [["Before you go, could I ask a question or two?"->GovNewQ]] [[Allow her to leave.->GovMetEnd]]

"It's not something you will need to worry about if you stay here, on Torei," she points out. "Down here, you're just another cunt. Begging for cock is just what we're expected to do." The Governess shrugs, stepping back from you. "Alas. I suppose I should get going, I do have another appointment coming up soon." [["Before you go, could I ask a question or two?"->GovNewQ]] [[Allow her to leave.->GovMetEnd]]

The Governess presses two fingers to her red lips, them points them at you before she spins and moves away. Her riding crop flares along the way, its snap against your rear dredging up memories of your session together as she disappears into the crowd. [[You try to remember where you were heading.->TransitCheckReturn]]

"Slaves come in many sorts and forms, here on Torei," the Governess replies, flicking the heavy steel attachment point upon the front of her collar. "I *am* one of those sorts, the kind that comes with a title like 'Governess'." [["What exactly is a Governess anyway?"->GovQGov]] (if: $debtSlave is false)[[["You mentioned you have an appointment?"->GovQNewAppoint]]] (if: $debtSlave is true)[[["Why are you working with the Liberty Society anyway?"->GovQLib]]] (if: $debtSlave is true)[[["What happened to those other two girls, on the other poles?"->GovQGirls]]] (if: $debtSlave is false)[[["Actually... I just really need to get going."->GovNewEnd]]] (if: $debtSlave is true)[[["Actually, I really need to get going."->GovMetEnd]]]

"You're not familiar with the term?" She asks, raising a jet black brow. "Ah, well, many owners on Torei have far more slaves then they can personally oversee. A Governess, such as myself, is one of those slaves, but charged with directing, overseeing, and providing corrective punishment or rewarding pleasure to her subordinates. I think of myself as an instructor, of sorts, in that regard." [["You're wearing a collar, are you a slave? You don't seem like one."->GovQCollar]] (if: $debtSlave is false)[[["You mentioned you have an appointment?"->GovQNewAppoint]]] (if: $debtSlave is true)[[["Why are you working with the Liberty Society anyway?"->GovQLib]]] (if: $debtSlave is true)[[["What happened to those other two girls, on the other poles?"->GovQGirls]]] (if: $debtSlave is false)[[["Actually... I just really need to get going."->GovNewEnd]]] (if: $debtSlave is true)[[["Actually, I really need to get going."->GovMetEnd]]]

"It is something my Master arranged," the Governess responds, for once sounding a bit perturbed. "He is a Magistrate for House Sargon-- one of the Diarch families that control this Ringdom. I'm working with some horrid offworlder Society to ensure they reflect Torean culture properly." [["You're wearing a collar, are you a slave? You don't seem like one."->GovQCollar]] [["What exactly is a Governess anyway?"->GovQGov]] (if: $debtSlave is true)[[["Why are you working with the Liberty Society anyway?"->GovQLib]]] (if: $debtSlave is true)[[["What happened to those other two girls, on the other poles?"->GovQGirls]]] (if: $debtSlave is false)[[["Actually... I just really need to get going."->GovNewEnd]]] (if: $debtSlave is true)[[["Actually, I really need to get going."->GovMetEnd]]]

"It is something my Master arranged," the Governess responds, for once sounding a bit perturbed. "He is a Magistrate for House Sargon-- one of the Diarch families that control this Ringdom. I'm working with the Liberty Society to ensure they reflect Torean culture properly. I don't like the entitled members of the Society itself, but I *do* enjoy the sluts I meet along the way. Like yourself." [["You're wearing a collar, are you a slave? You don't seem like one."->GovQCollar]] [["What exactly is a Governess anyway?"->GovQGov]] (if: $debtSlave is false)[[["You mentioned you have an appointment?"->GovQNewAppoint]]] (if: $debtSlave is true)[[["What happened to those other two girls, on the other poles?"->GovQGirls]]] (if: $debtSlave is false)[[["Actually... I just really need to get going."->GovNewEnd]]] (if: $debtSlave is true)[[["Actually, I really need to get going."->GovMetEnd]]]

"Hm?" It clearly takes her a moment to remember the other girls that had been tortured alongside you. "Oh, I let them down eventually. One of them wanted to hire me for the experience again, but that's a matter she must take up with my Master." [["You're wearing a collar, are you a slave? You don't seem like one."->GovQCollar]] [["What exactly is a Governess anyway?"->GovQGov]] (if: $debtSlave is false)[[["You mentioned you have an appointment?"->GovQNewAppoint]]] (if: $debtSlave is true)[[["Why are you working with the Liberty Society anyway?"->GovQLib]]] (if: $debtSlave is false)[[["Actually... I just really need to get going."->GovNewEnd]]] (if: $debtSlave is true)[[["Actually, I really need to get going."->GovMetEnd]]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/DgoF8Iz.jpg" width="50%" height="50%"> As you make your way around the crowd, you notice one uniformed girl seperated from the rest-- peering intently into a small stream of water running next to the road. [["What are you looking at?"->School2A]] [["Hello there."->School2B]] [[Avoid her entirely, and keep moving. No distractions.->TransitCheckReturn]]

The crowd is too busy to respond, most of the uniformed girls speaking to each other. [[You cross the street, avoiding the crowd.->School1]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/DgoF8Iz.jpg" width="50%" height="50%"> "The water, where I--" She stops suddenly, a glance towards you transforming into a very obvious double take before she rises up to her full height. (if: $Slave is true)["Oh, I'm sorry, I thought you were... I meant... well I guess I should greet you properly, but you're a slave like me, so that means..." When you explain you're not a slave, but a freewomb merely wearing the standardized uniform that actually seems to clear up her confusion. She spreads her legs, lifting her skirt to reveal the zipper her catsuit sported between her legs. Further up, she bows her head. A Torean greeting.](else:)["Oh, I'm sorry, I thought you were... but you're not... a stranger... freewomb, I should... reverence!" She spreads her legs, lifting her skirt to reveal the zipper her catsuit sported between her legs. Further up, she bows her head. A Torean greeting.] "Student Asami Ventari at your service, Mistress! How can I help?" [["I'm not a Mistress, and you didn't need to greet me like... that."->SchoolNo]] [["What were you looking at, in the water?"->SchoolWater]] [["What's up with the uniform?"->SchoolUniform]] [["Nevermind, I should probably be on my way."->SchoolEnd]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/DgoF8Iz.jpg" width="50%" height="50%"> "I said I would be right the--" She stops suddenly, a glance towards you transforming into a very obvious double take before she rises up to her full height. (if: $Slave is true)["Oh, I'm sorry, I thought you were... I meant... well I guess I should greet you properly, but you're a slave like me, so that means..." When you explain you're not a slave, but a freewomb merely wearing the standardized uniform that actually seems to clear up her confusion. She spreads her legs, lifting her skirt to reveal the zipper her catsuit sported between her legs. Further up, she bows her head. A Torean greeting.](else:)["Oh, I'm sorry, I thought you were... but you're not... a stranger... freewomb, I should... reverence!" She spreads her legs, lifting her skirt to reveal the zipper her catsuit sported between her legs. Further up, she bows her head. A Torean greeting.] "Student Asami Ventari at your service, Mistress! How can I help?" [["I'm not a Mistress, and you didn't need to greet me like... that."->SchoolNo]] [["What were you looking at, in the water?"->SchoolWater]] [["What's up with the uniform?"->SchoolUniform]] [["Nevermind, I should probably be on my way."->SchoolEnd]]

"You are to me!" She asserts, readily. One of our very first lessons is the importance of hierarchy, in both our lives and society. Chattel slaves at the bottom, ponygirls and the like. Then regular slaves, like me. Then Supersisters and Governesses, and whatever. Then Freewombs, like you.(if: $Slave is true)[ Even if you're wearing slave gear at the moment.]" She smiles brightly, her lips as red as the rest of her uniform. "That means you're due a reverence when we meet! And that you're a Mistress. Or 'ma'am'. But I like the sound of Mistress, its a perk of wearing a collar." She points towards her own. [["What were you looking at, in the water?"->SchoolWater]] [["What's up with the uniform?"->SchoolUniform]] [["Nevermind, I should probably be on my way."->SchoolEnd]]

"In the water?" The question seems to confuse her for a moment, a finger even rising quizzically to her chin. "Oh! Not *in* the water, I was looking at the water itself! I come from a farming village, further out towards the Lichen line. We don't get much water at all, and we certainly don't have enough to waste it running down ditches like that!" She points over your shoulder, to the mountains that loom in the distance. "But Aekora is so close to the mountains, they get the runoff from the snow. And glaciers." A moment passes, her face screwing up. "Okay, Mistress? I might have lied there. I don't actually know if there are glaciers up there. In the antipodes there are mountains that have them though, I just read about them in history class!" [["I'm not a Mistress, and you didn't need to greet me like... that."->SchoolNo]] [["What's up with the uniform?"->SchoolUniform]] [["Nevermind, I should probably be on my way."->SchoolEnd]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/J14XI68.png" width="30%" height="30%"> Asami looks down, flicking her skirt coquettishly as she lifts a leg, smiling broadly. "You like it, Mistress? It's my school uniform. I'm a first year student at the Naram-Sin Academy." She shimmies her hips, the short skirt providing little coverage. "It's an even day, so all red. But on odd days we have to come with a corset and a different hood, they're black. I'm not really sure why." [["Is that a collar, and a leash? You're a slave?"->SchoolSlave]] [["First year? Was it hard getting used to that?"->SchoolHard]] [["I'm not a Mistress, and you didn't need to greet me like... that."->SchoolNo]] [["What were you looking at, in the water?"->SchoolWater]] [["Nevermind, I should probably be on my way."->SchoolEnd]]

"Oh! Sure! I suppose I should be getting to class," Asami replies, looking towards the gateway, now mostly cleared of her fellow students. "It was like, really cool to meet you though! See ya!" Despite her youth, she proves quite nimble in those heels as she makes her way into the Academy's Annex. [[You watch her go, then turn back, intent on continuing on your way.->TransitCheckReturn]]

"Yep," she replies, but then gestures wildly with her gloved hands. "But only, like, technically? When you apply to the Academy, you're enslaved for the duration. At graduation we get to choose to be freed, or for the Academy to identify a proper owner for us." She indicates the leash hanging from her collar, the length of flexible laminate hooked into a slot on her backpack. "The leash is for the teachers, Mistress. Or older classmates. As a first year, I'm not allowed to say no to them either." [["First year? Was it hard getting used to that?"->SchoolHard]] [["I'm not a Mistress, and you didn't need to greet me like... that."->SchoolNo]] [["What were you looking at, in the water?"->SchoolWater]] [["Nevermind, I should probably be on my way."->SchoolEnd]]

"Oh yeah," Asami replies, immediately. "Not everyone grows up with laminate, you know? A few students these past few years have even been offworlders! But on the first day we're all taken to the Academy's wardrobe devices, and we all come out wearing red, you know? Talk about awkward!" She shrugs, smooth laminate shoulders gliding through the movement with ease. "By the third day we were taking turns wearing strap-ons to practice fellatio, though, so its all been downhill from there." [["Is that a collar, and a leash? You're a slave?"->SchoolSlave]] [["I'm not a Mistress, and you didn't need to greet me like... that."->SchoolNo]] [["What were you looking at, in the water?"->SchoolWater]] [["Nevermind, I should probably be on my way."->SchoolEnd]]

You turn to find a woman at your side, pulling at the straps of a regulation mask much like your own. Unlike you, she is neither collared nor bound. "Your owner, slave. Do they know you're about to be in this storm? I love to watch them come in, but the nearest public shelter isn't far." [["I'm not a slave."->StormSlave2]]

You turn to find a woman at your side, pulling at the straps of a heavy looking gas mask. Her simple black laminate outfit catches the reflection of the incoming storm, bright orange. "Yeah, mask," she taps her own. "You need to get yours on, that storm will be here any moment." [["I don't have one!""->StormReg2]]

She doesn't believe you until she checks your identification. A sudden burst of wind accompanies her returning it. "Offworlder, huh? Well, can't say much good comes for a freewomb wearing the standard slave gear. But you're lucky on this one count. That getup you're locked into is designed for what's about to hit us. A storm blowing in off the badlands isn't common this deep into the Belt, but it happens on occasion. It's a sight to see." [["Storm? What sort of storm?"->StormSlave3]] [["What's the 'Belt'?"->StormSlave3]]

"These storms are... as old as Torei itself," the stranger responds, raising her voice as a sharp crack echoes off the buildings nearby, emanating from the encroaching storm. "From before the area around the equator, the Belt, was easily habitable. It's rare they blow in this deep, probably pisses the AIs off when it does-- but *stars* is it something every tourist should see first hand." By now she's nearly yelling, the wall of brownish-orange approaching rapidly. "Too late for you to make it to a shelter, so just... HOLD ON." [[The storm overtakes you.->StormSlave4]]

The storm arrives with a sudden, and unexpected, blast of *cold.* Grit suspended in the air quickly reduces visiblity as it whips by, the narrow confines of the surrounding buildings amplfying the effect. You're forced to lean forward, into the howling wind, just to keep from being barreled over. Even then you can feel your heels beginning to lose traction on the pavement below. The stranger beside you had disappeared into the cold, what little you can see out past your mask rendered in sepia tones. But a hand on your shoulder announces her return, light reflecting against her mask as she gestures to your left. You follow, only requiring several steps before you manage to hit relative calm-- the building nearby shielding the blunt of the raging storm. [["Holy hell, that was INCREDIBLE!"->StormSlaveWow]] [["It's so cold!"->StormSlaveCold]]

The storm continues to pour past, the open space beyond the wall's protection little more then a swirling wall of dust and wind. In the pocket of calm you occupy, however, only snow-like sprinkles of dust float down upon the sepia world. That which lands on your suit mostly glides off, laminate proving the perfect defense. "Pretty crazy, right?" The stranger asks, still standing near the wall of the storm. Reaching out, she allows her hand to disappear within the passing torrent, pulling it back out afterward. "Most just bunker down for these, but I never could. There is just something... raw, in experiencing it full blast. Don't expect it to last much longer, though. The storms out near the Lichen line can last for hours, but they burn out coming these deep into the Belt. Storm wall only last a couple minutes." As if listening in, already the storm seems to be lessening. [["Anything else I should know? It's my first storm... that I can remember, at least."->StormSlaveQ]] [["Thanks for showing me the ropes."->StormSlaveQ]]

The storm continues to pour past, the open space beyond the wall's protection little more then a swirling wall of dust and wind. In the pocket of calm you occupy, however, only snow-like sprinkles of dust float down upon the sepia world. That which lands on your suit mostly glides off, laminate proving the perfect defense. "These usually originate at the poles, on the Badlands they can freeze entire areas in a few hours!" The stranger marvels, still standing near the wall of the storm. Reaching out, she allows her hand to disappear within the passing torrent, pulling it back out afterward. "Most just bunker down for these, but I never could. There is just something... raw, in experiencing it full blast. Don't expect it to last much longer, though. The storms out near the Lichen line can last for hours, but they burn out coming these deep into the Belt. Storm wall only last a couple minutes." As if listening in, already the storm seems to be lessening. [["Anything else I should know? It's my first storm... that I can remember, at least."->StormSlaveQ]] [["Thanks for showing me the ropes."->StormSlaveQ]]

The wail of the storm siren becomes audible again just as it cuts out, the torrent having passed through. In its wake, only ember-like flakes still fall buffeted by the occasional rogue gust of wind. (if: $Slave is false)[(if: $Level is < 2)[You pull off the borrowed mask yourself,](if: $Level is > 1)[With a few moments help from a stranger you pull off the borrowed mask,] taking the first deep breath allowed to you in the space of a few minutes. Handing it back to the stranger, she takes it back and moves to leave.] "Just keep an eye on the news, going forward," the stranger advices, looking back to you. "We always have warning when a storm is coming in, and you do *not* want to get stuck in one without a mask-- or something solid to get behind." She steps out into the unprotected space between buildings again, her passing shifting the lingering dustfall. "Catch you later." She's gone quick enough, as others begin to emerge from nearby buildings. You should probably get back to whatever you were doing before. [[You never even got her name.->TransitCheckReturn]]

"Offworlder, huh?" Your unpreparedness must have given you away. "I've got another mask, but they're expensive to clean afterward. I'll let you use it for 25 credits to cover that, though-- and I do recommend it, every tourist needs to experience one of these head on!" As if to underline her point, a burst of wind rips through. "Otherwise there is a public shelter... a few blocks down that way, but you would need to haul ass to reach it in time!" With one hand she holds out the mask, as the other points down the street towards the shelter. (if: $Brand is true)[Your ballet heels make running an impossibility-- you will need to take her offer.] [["I'll take the mask!"->StormRegMask]] (if: $Brand is not true)[[[Follow her finger, and make for the shelter.->StormRegShelt]]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/iXKXd9O.png" height="50%"> (set: $debt to it - 25) "Great choice!" The stranger shouts in response, a sharp crack of something much like thunder rolling in from the storm. "Hold still, I'll get this on you *real* quick!" She makes good on her promise, pressing the mask to your face. It smells heavily of laminate, but the glass viewport allows you to watch as the stranger secures the straps holding the entire device in place. "There! Breath in-- and expect it to be hard, that's the filters!" You comply, and find her warning to be true-- the first inhalation is like drawing air in through a straw. Your lungs scream for more oxygen, but your attention is already shifting back out over the city-- most of it now hidden by the wall of the storm. "These storms are... as old as Torei itself," the stranger explains, raising her voice as a sharp crack echoes off the buildings nearby, emanating from the encroaching storm. "From before the area around the equator, the Belt, was easily habitable. It's rare they blow in this deep, probably pisses the AIs off when it does-- but *stars* is it something every tourist should see first hand." By now she's nearly yelling, the wall of brownish-orange approaching rapidly. "Watching your footing, and... HOLD ON." [[The storm overtakes you.->StormReg4]]

"Good luck!" The stranger calls, as you begin moving down the street. By the time you make it to the next space between buildings however, allowing you to see the storm's approach, you realize walking won't make it-- you will need to run. (if: $Level is > 0)[Your hobble chain will make this a challenge.] A hard gust of wind blows in just as you make out a neon sign in the distance, PUBLIC STORM SHELTER making your goal quite obvious. [[Run!->StormRegShelt2]]

The storm continues to pour past, the open space beyond the wall's protection little more then a swirling wall of dust and wind. In the pocket of calm you occupy, however, only snow-like sprinkles of dust float down upon the sepia world. That which lands on your suit mostly glides off, laminate proving the perfect defense. "These usually originate at the poles, on the Badlands they can freeze entire areas in a few hours!" The stranger marvels, still standing near the wall of the storm. Reaching out, she allows her hand to disappear within the passing torrent, pulling it back out afterward. "Most just bunker down for these, but I never could. There is just something... raw, in experiencing it full blast. Don't expect it to last much longer, though. The storms out near the Lichen line can last for hours, but they burn out coming these deep into the Belt. Storm wall only last a couple minutes." As if listening in, already the storm seems to be lessening. [["Anything else I should know? It's my first storm... that I can remember, at least."->StormSlaveQ]] [["Thanks for showing me the ropes."->StormSlaveQ]]

You run as best you can in your heels. (if: $Level is > 0)[Your hobble chain quickly proves to be well named, *hobbling* your every attempt at anything more then a quick shuffle. (if: $Level is > 1)[The constant pull of the chain also threatens to upset your balance, the sharp pull of your armbinder making staying upright difficult.]] And then there is the storm-- what had been growing quiet now cracks with repeated strikes of not-thunder, alongside a growing sense of *cold.* It's a close thing, but you do make it. Barely-- stumbling into the safety of the shelter's vestibule just as the grit truly starts to fly. You're allowed a moment to glimpse out into a sepia colored world before the storm wall overtakes you, and you shove your way inside. [[Safety!->StormReg3]]

The shelter, little more then a concrete warren carved out below street level, holds only two others. One appears to be a freewomb like you, her eyes never leaving the datapad she's playing with upon her lap. Beside her another stands in full regulation slave gear, glossy black and nearly faceless given her regulation mask. Of the three of you, the slave appears the only one who could have ventured out into the storm. It doesn't take long to pass-- a few minutes at most. You emerge to find the last lingering hints to be snow-like flakes of dust drifting slowing down from the sky, the storm itself visible in the distance, retreating as quickly as it had arrived. As others return to the streets, you try to remember where you were heading in the first place. [[At least you made it.->TransitCheckReturn]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/ZZd6TtJ.jpg" width="50%" height="50%"> It takes a moment, but the Mistress does apparently notice you. The golden brown of her laminate blouse seems to be complimented by the darker shade of the girl at her feet. "Yes?" (if: $Level is < 2)[[["Can I pet your slave?"->CatPet]]] [["Is that slave your... pet?"->CatQ]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/3gdYLL1.jpg" width="50%" height="50%"> The Mistress nods, returning her attention to her purse. "Of course, it's not like she can bite." Clearly the catgirl had heard your conversation, she already had approached you. Kneeling down, you reach out, running your hand between her faux ears. Her laminate is smooth and slick to the touch. Without a mouth to speak, the creature instead purrs, approaching you closer. You notice she's corseted, and that her hands are little more then padded mitts, rendered utterly useless and stamped with feline designs. Behind, a tail flicks from her rear. She seems to like you. [["What did she do to deserve this?"->Cat3]] [["Is this some sort of... debt thing?"->Cat3]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/3gdYLL1.jpg" width="50%" height="50%"> The Mistress nods, reaching down to pet the girl between the ears. Without a mouth to speak, the creature instead purrs, then approaches you closer. You notice she's corseted, and that her hands are little more then padded mitts, rendered utterly useless and stamped with feline designs. Behind, a tail flicks from her rear. She seems to like you. [["What did she do to deserve this?"->Cat3]] [["Is this some sort of... debt thing?"->Cat3]]

"Offworlder," the Mistress finally concludes, having reached the same point of reference numerous others upon your path thus far had as well. "First time with a petgirl? Sure-- some can find their way into something like this against their will. By my Minx chose this." [["She did what?"->Cat4]] [["She chose this?!"->Cat4]]

The Mistress had returned to searching her purse again. "Petgirls are rare, but not terribly so," she replies, offhandly. "Minx is very dedicated to this lifestyle." Below, the catgirl presses up against your legs. [["Incredible."->CatInc]] [["How horrible."->CatHorr]]

"Isn't it?" The owner asks, moments before she finally fishes out what she had been looking for in her purse-- a train ticket. "Going to be dusk soon," she notes, tugging on the catgirl's leash. "I know you're an offworlder, so remember curfew. Don't want to get stuck out in it. Anyway, nice meeting you." She turns to leave, her pet lingering only as long as the leash allows-- when it goes taut, she eventually follows. [[What strange things you see on these streets.->TransitCheckReturn]]

"Horrible for you perhaps," The owner replies simply, moments before she finally fishes out what she had been looking for in her purse-- a train ticket. "Going to be dusk soon," she notes, tugging on the catgirl's leash. "I know you're an offworlder, so remember curfew. Don't want to get stuck out in it. Anyway, nice meeting you." She turns to leave, her pet lingering only as long as the leash allows-- when it goes taut, she eventually follows. [[What strange things you see on these streets.->TransitCheckReturn]]

You abruptly shift course, diverting into the alley. Here the buildings crowd your narrow path, conspiring with the setting sun to cast everything in shadow. You give yourself a few moments, to get deep enough down the path that *whatever* was following you would be forced to enter the alley as well. Then you-- [[--turn around suddenly, catching your stalker!->DaemonTurn]] [[--listen for footsteps behind you before turning!->DaemonFoot]]

With sudden alacrity you pivot, keen on catching whatever had followed you. The alleyway, the crowd passing at its mouth in the distance, and... *nothing.* [["Hello?"->DaemonHello]] [["Huh."->DaemonCon]]

You step strategically on a bit of cardboard left abandoned, the snap of your heels so briefly muffled-- and there, a *second* set of heeled shoes echoes through the alley! You turn, so keen on catching whomever followed you... and yet the alleyway is empty. The only other beings visible are those passing the mouth of the alley, so far away. [["Hello?"->DaemonHello]] [["Huh."->DaemonCon]]

Perplexed, you linger for a moment, listening. Further out the sounds of the city drift in, but here, in a quiet artery of this great heart of civilization, there is silence. A *growing* silence. The reverie of the world beyond seems to dampen, a cosmic rug thrown over the cacophony. You're suddenly very much aware of your own breathing, *that* sound seemingly growing louder alongside what only you can describe as... a *ringing.* High-pitched, as if a whistle could imitate an oncoming migraine. Yet the tone changes even as you listen, garbling, shifting more towards the sound of static... and *something else.* You've heard this before, that's a fact that is suddenly, **dramatically** clear. Something instinctual shifts inside you, flight or fight responses emerging from the primordial hippocampus. Terror, raw terror. Walking hand in hand with curiosity, *longing* even. All for that sound, and it's moving closer, and closer... [[Hold your ground.->DaemonSound]] [[Run!->DaemonSound]]

You words ring out, unanswered. Perplexed, you linger for a moment, listening. Further out the sounds of the city drift in, but here, in a quiet artery of this great heart of civilization, there is silence. A *growing* silence. The reverie of the world beyond seems to dampen, a cosmic rug thrown over the cacophony. You're suddenly very much aware of your own breathing, *that* sound seemingly growing louder alongside what only you can describe as... a *ringing.* High-pitched, as if a whistle could imitate an oncoming migraine. Yet the tone changes even as you listen, garbling, shifting more towards the sound of static... and *something else.* You've heard this before, that's a fact that is suddenly, **dramatically** clear. Something instinctual shifts inside you, flight or fight responses emerging from the primordial hippocampus. Terror, raw terror. Walking hand in hand with curiosity, *longing* even. All for that sound, and it's moving closer, and closer... [[Hold your ground.->DaemonSound]] [[Run!->DaemonSound]]

It doesn't *matter* what you want to do. Had it ever, in the face of that infernal sound? A soft caress, the strict hand on an imperceivable leash, that clarion signal promises it all. It's upon you now, so close... and then beyond, moving further down the alleyway. You follow it. Past an overturned dumpster, deeper into shadow. The buildings here are *old*, and you notice for the first time the alleyway below is cobbled with smooth expanses of stone. Had this been a proper road once? Old storefronts seem to loom out of the darkness, black eyes looking out for passersby that no longer visited. And it's to one in particular the signal seems to pull you, despite whatever reservations you held. To a plate glass window, the mask of a building otherwise abandoned. Peering into that window, you see little more then gloom and falling water-- a pipe within perhaps, burst and leaking. As you stare, the signal seems to fade, a slight headache emerging in place of the simulated one. Your concerns and paranoia suddenly seem so *silly*. No one had followed you into the alleyway, and looking back down it you see no one occupying it now. You're alone, as you turn back to the window... [[...where a figure emerges from the dark.->Daemon5]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/nOCeWIP.png" width="50%" height="50%"> A silhouette. Had the water not been falling upon its head and shoulders, you may not have even noticed it at all. Male, but only vaguely so. Black laminate seems to cover it from head to toe, cloaking a face without eyes to see, or a mouth to speak. Yet you can all but *feel* it staring at you, regardless. It *knows* you, and you know it. Daemon. Emmissary. The word matters not. For that briefest of moments, you're face to face with a far greater whole, a mortal form cloaked by divinity. Native Toreans often called them *Gods*, not this isolated sould entombed in laminate before you, but the thing pulling its strings-- thousands of kilometers away, entombed in ice at either pole. The AI builders of this world, its silent shepherds: Mazos and Dahom. What made you worthy of consideration by such beings? The figure doesn't tell, but steps back instead, disappearing into the gloom as suddenly as it had appeared. In its wake, you're left only with that lingering headache as the sounds of the city reassert themselves. What had just happened? [[You don't know...->DaemonEnd]]

Eventually you pull yourself away from the long abandoned storefront, trying-- and failing-- to come to grips with that which you had just saw. Felt. *Known.* (set: $Daemon to true) [[You stumble back out of the alley, sometime later. Utterly lost...->TransitCheckReturn]]

With one hand still holding your leash, the other moves to your chin, lifting your head in a manner that prevents any escape from her gaze. "The Black Card that concerned you so, do you know from whence it came?" [["N-No..,"->NunRevFinal18]]

"Neither do I," Euphoria admits. "But I have a hunch, and if I am right we must address this... *Sin*, before you can be committed to more regular duties. So we will be traveling downtown, to the address marked upon it. Together." (set: $Nun to true)(set: $Slave to false)(set: $Blue to false)(set: $Smoke to false)(set: $Sec to false)(set: $Brand to false)(set: $Level to 0)(set: $Pierced to true) [["By carriage? Train?"->NunFinalType]] [["I could attend to this alone, Sister."->NunFinalAlone]]

"Of course not," Euphoria replies, sounding a bit amused. "Neither option is available to slaves, which we are, Sister. We will be taking the Lead. I hope you're ready for some walking? It will certainly serve to accustom you the rigors of your new uniform." [["The Lead?"->NunLead]]

"You most certainly could *not*," your Elder Sister replies. "Need I remind you of your Vows of Femininity and Devotion? Our scripture teaches that we, as women, should not be allowed to travel without a proper escort. A male, a freewomb-- or an Elder Sister, like myself." She turns to leave. "Now, we must really be going. We will be taking the Lead. I hope you're ready for some walking? It will certainly serve to accustom you the rigors of your new uniform." [["The Lead?"->NunLead]]

"You will see soon enough," she replies, guiding you back into the streets. Dusk threatens as you approach the Transport Hub, Sister Euphoria leading you by the leash. But your attention is on the surrounding crowds-- many eyes turn towards you, even as they give space for your passing. The uniform of the Order clearly proved distinctive enough, its presence rarely far from your mind. Your heavy corset makes every breath a new experience, while your habit keeps shifting into your line of sight. Reaching up to push it back you catch sight of your wrist cuffs, the similar set affixed to your ankles clinking quietly qith every step. You're focusing on the tight laminate across your chest when you are brought to a sudden stop by the red figure before you, Euphoria having pulled up before security checkpoint. Somewhere along the way you had missed the beginning of her conversation with the transit attendant, but you catch the end. "...the standard, yes. Full restraint." Just what *that* meant is left briefly to your imagination, as Euphoria pulls you forward again, following the attendant who hefts a briefcase from behind her desk. [[Full restraint?->NunLead2]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/7Lkt4v0.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> Just what exactly you're in for becomes apparent as soon as you clear the security checkpoint, a Truant Officer examining your ID card before letting you through. The Lead platform is little more then a concrete patch beneath a suspended wire line, from which descend a length of steel cable every few feet. As you watch, those freewombs or slaves capable of hooking their collars to the cables do so-- those too heavily bound(if: $Level is > 1)[ such as yourself] are assisted in the effort by attendants. A few of the waiting chains seem to have empty collars affixed to them as well(if: $Smoke is true or $Sec is true or $Brand is true)[, for outfits such as your own]. After a few moments, the Lead moves of its own accord, 'escorting' its charge forward-- down a sloping ramp and back into the city proper along a raised corridor that disappears between the distant buildings. This will cost you 200 credits. [[This is your last change to turn back.->Transport Hub III]] (if: $Level is 0 or 1)[[[It's time to leave, approach one of the Lead lines.->LeadLeaveSelfPay]]] (if: $Level is > 1)[[[It's time to leave, approach one of the Lead attendants for help, given your armbinder.->LeadLeaveHelpPay]]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/yNfV45r.jpg" width="50%" height="50%"> Despite the Lead drawing longer lines, its the trains that take up the largest portion of the platform. They loom sleek and majestic as you approach the security checkpoint, an enslaved Transit Authority attendant working alongside a Truant Officer checking IDs. (if: $TrainPass is false)[You have the 400 credits necessary, but when you try to pass the Truant Officer stops you. No unescorted Freewombs without a transit pass," he explains, brusquely. (if: $Slave is true)["And you're in slave gear too? No slaves on the train, period. Get to the Lead before I work up enough energy to fine you."]](if: $TrainPass is true and $Slave is false)[The security guard looks you over, checking your ID for a moment before waving you the attendant. She smiles brightly. "It will be 400 credits to ride the train, ma'am. And I see you have a pass, that is necessary for unaccompanied freewombs."](if: $TrainPass is true and $Slave is true)[The security guard needs only a look to gesture sharply back the way you came. "No slaves on the train, girl. Doesn't matter if you have a pass, or if you're *really* a freewomb. Get out of here!"] (if: $TrainPass is true and $Slave is true)[[[Damn. You turn around, having forgotten that little detail.->Transport Hub III]]] (if: $TrainPass is false)[[[Damn. You turn around, having forgotten that little detail.->Transport Hub III]]] (if: $TrainPass is true and $Slave is false)[[[This is your last change to turn back.->Transport Hub III]]] (if: $TrainPass is true and $Slave is false)[[[Pay the 400 credits, and board the train.->TrainLeave]]]

The carriage station, tucked away on small corner of the Transport Platform, clearly catered to a more exclusive clientele. Where others wait in lines, you approach the open booth. Within, a collared girl waits, her blue transit uniform gleaming. (if: $Slave is true)[That smile disappears as you walk up. "We do not offer our services to slaves," she reminds you, sharply. "Now clear the line for actual *people* who may need assistance. Despite your slave status being only a technicality of your uniform, it seems this will not be an option.](else:)["Welcome!" She greets, warmly. "Would you be needing a carriage into the city? The cost is a mere 600 credits!"] (if: $Slave is true)[[[You step back and way.->Transport Hub III]]](else:)[ [[This is your last change to turn back.->Transport Hub III]] [[It's time to leave. "I would like a carriage, please."->LeaveCarriagePay]] ]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/7Lkt4v0.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> Dusk threatens as you approach the line to the Lead, having waited long enough-- or perhaps merely strategically, saving your credits, for this last and longest path to open. Just what exactly you're in for becomes apparent as soon as you clear the security checkpoint, a Truant Officer examining your ID card before letting you through. The Lead platform is little more then a concrete patch beneath a suspended wire line, from which descend a length of steel cable every few feet. As you watch, those freewombs or slaves capable of hooking their collars to the cables do so-- those too heavily bound(if: $Level is > 1)[ such as yourself] are assisted in the effort by attendants. A few of the waiting chains seem to have empty collars affixed to them as well(if: $Smoke is true or $Sec is true or $Brand is true)[, for outfits such as your own]. After a few moments, the Lead moves of its own accord, 'escorting' its charge forward-- along a raised corridor that disappears between the distant buildings. [[This is your last change to turn back.->Transport Hub III]] (if: $Level is 0 or 1)[[[It's time to leave, approach one of the Lead lines.->LeadLeaveSelf]]] (if: $Level is > 1)[[[It's time to leave, approach one of the Lead attendants for help, given your armbinder.->LeadLeaveHelp]]]

You wait until one of the hanging chains is free, then approach it. With your hands free you don't need assistance at least. (if: $Smoke is true or $Brand is true or $Sec is true)[You are without a collar, something rectified by aiming for one of those with the implement included. It's not a particularly fun sensation to close the heavy laminate around your throat, but it merely buckles instead of locks, and soon you are secured and ready.](if: $Slave is true or $Blue is true)[As you already wear a collar you need only approach one of the vacant lines. Then its only a matter of snapping the waiting hook to your throat, and you're secured, ready to go.] Just in time too, as your section of the Lead lurches slowly into motion. What now serves as your leash quickly goes taut, requiring you to follow along with several other similarly chained women. The Lead takes you from the platform, collecting together with several others before running united along the raised path through the center of the city. In the distance, downtown awaits. [[The long walk begins.->Lead Walk]]

You wait until one of the Lead's attendants is free, another slave in blue laminate. She waves you over, holding an empty Lead in one hand, gesturing with a white laminate glove. (if: $Smoke is true or $Brand is true or $Sec is true)[Noticing your lack of collar she prepares one, fastening it first to the line as you step up. The heavy laminate is then closed around your throat, secured by heavy buckles. It might be without a lock, but given your armbinder it's not like you can escape anyway. Either way, you're ready to go.](if: $Blue is true or $Slave is true)[Noticing you're already collared, she merely reaches snaps the Lead to your throat. It might be without a lock, but given your armbinder its not like you can escape anyway. Either way, you're ready to go.] Just in time too, as your section of the Lead lurches slowly into motion. What now serves as your leash quickly goes taut, requiring you to follow along with several other similarly chained women. The Lead takes you from the platform, collecting together with several others before running united along the raised path through the center of the city. In the distance, downtown awaits. [[The long walk begins.->Lead Walk]]

You wait until one of the hanging chains is free, then approach it. With your hands free you don't need assistance at least. (if: $Smoke is true or $Brand is true or $Sec is true)[You are without a collar, something rectifying by aiming for one of those with the implement included. It's not a particularly fun sensation to close the heavy laminate around your throat, but it merely buckles instead of locks, and soon you are secured and ready.](if: $Slave is true or $Blue is true)[As you already wear a collar you need only approach one of the vacant lines. Then its only a matter of snapping the waiting hook to your throat, and you're secured, ready to go.] Just in time too, as your section of the Lead lurches slowly into motion. (set: $debt to it - 200) What now serves as your leash quickly goes taut, requiring you to follow along with several other similarly chained women. The Lead takes you from the platform, collecting together with several others before running united along the raised path through the center of the city. In the distance, downtown awaits. [[The long walk begins.->Lead Walk]]

You wait until one of the Lead's attendants is free, another slave in blue laminate. She waves you over, holding an empty Lead in one hand, gesturing with a white laminate glove. (if: $Smoke is true or $Brand is true or $Sec is true)[Noticing your lack of collar she prepares one, fastening it first to the line as you step up. The heavy laminate is then closed around your throat, secured by heavy buckles. It might be without a lock, but given your armbinder it's not like you can escape anyway. Either way, you're ready to go.](if: $Blue is true or $Slave is true)[Noticing you're already collared, she merely reaches snaps the Lead to your throat. It might be without a lock, but given your armbinder its not like you can escape anyway. Either way, you're ready to go.] Just in time too, as your section of the Lead lurches slowly into motion. (set: $debt to it - 200) What now serves as your leash quickly goes taut, requiring you to follow along with several other similarly chained women. The Lead takes you from the platform, collecting together with several others before running united along the raised path through the center of the city. In the distance, downtown awaits. [[The long walk begins.->Lead Walk]]

You pay the fee and pass through, stepping out onto the platform yourself. Some load baggage into storage compartments along the sides of the cars themselves, while others move to board. Traveling so lightly, you board, and eventually find yourself a seat. (if: $Level is > 1)[With your armbinder, you need to sit a bit sideways, but you manage.] (if: $Brand is true)[It's nice to get off your feet, at least. Those damn ballet heels.] (set: $debt to it - 400) Before too long last calls are made, and after that the train lurches into movement. Makings it way out from the platform, it quickly breaks free and plunges down-- below streetlevel, into the underground. With every passing moment, you know downtown approachs. [[Torei passes in a blur.->Train Ride]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/n6QsMmO.jpg" width="50%" height="50%"> (set: $debt to it - 600) If you were expecting a horse-drawn carriage, or some Torean analogue, you haven't been paying enough attention. Your carriage is pulled by a quartet of women in full tack and harness, large feathers affixed to their head harness at a jaunty angle. They're mostly nude as well, excepting hooved laminate boots that rise to their knees, and heavy armbinders that pin their arms behind them. Blindered, only one manages a glance at you, but she's clearly more focused on her work as she drools lewdly from the bit gag slotted between her teeth. The carriage itself is sumptuous, a small enclosed cabin being opened by a transit attendant. She helps you up the pair of steps and waits until you sit down before closing the door. The seats are a dark burgundy laminate inset with recessed buttons that give a very archaic, very old fashioned sort of look. A driver had been seated up front, and its she that prompts the ponygirls into action with a crack of her whip. Leaning your head out the window, you can see them high-stepping as they lean into their harnesses, drawing you and the carriage forward. A slight slope brings you back down to the Torean streets, along which you clatter. Every step by the enslaved quartet draws you closer to downtown. [[You settle in for a comfortable ride.->Carriage Ride]]

Your donation is accepted with a nod, Sister Euphoria's red-eyed gaze closing behind deep black lids as she dips her head. "Even the smallest donations are worthy,"" (set: $debt to it - 5) [[A good deed done quietly.->Nun Hub]]

Welcome to *Lost in Laminate*, an interactive fiction story set on the planet Torei-- a (relatively) recently reopened planet infamous for its distinct culture, centered around pervasive slavery and the laminate material. <img src="https://i.imgur.com/4Nj1r8y.png" width="30%" height="30%"> This project assumes zero prior experience with Torei, but it is a shared setting, and has dozens of different stories and artwork already set within it. Hungry for more? Come join us on the dedicated Discord server for more information, by (link: "clicking here.")[(goto-url: 'https://discord.gg/Y9TPgZg')] This is an interactive story, allowing *you* the opportunity to make important decisions along the way. Currently it is over 200,000 words, effectively novel-sized, and is 3/4ths completed. Multiple playthroughs are encouraged, events can differ signficantly! To navigate the story, click the blue highlighted links. You can click the 'back' and 'forward' arrows on the left if you want to change your decision, but don't use the refresh, back, or forward buttons on your browser. And if you enjoy, I *love* hearing feedback. What did you like? Do you have ideas for further scenes? Hit with a comment, or find me on Discord-- several of the included situations were derived purely from reader suggestions! VERSION: 5.6 [[Let's get to it!->Startup]]

Your destination looms ahead, dark buildings lit by brilliant lights, but the distance to them is quite substantial indeed. It's little wonder the Lead system seemed reserved for slaves, and those freewombs incapable of paying for better transport-- somewhere past the first hour mark of your forced march you're starting to regret going with this particular route. You've been on your feet most of the day after all, and given your outfit that meant doing so in sharp stilleto heels. Your toes ache and your ankles burn(if: $Brand is true)[, the ballet heels you wear making the effort absolutely grueling]. (if: $Level is > 0)[The hobble chain between your ankles doesn't help matters either, the restricted gain requiring nearly double the amount of steps you would have naturally taken.] (if: $Level is > 1)[For once its your armbinder that hardly proves troublesome, your aching arms having gone from acute discomfort to a dull ache somewhere during your actions in town.] (if: $Slave is true)[Compared to most of the other women utilizing the Lead, however, you do have a distinct disadvantage-- between your legs the dual plugs installed inside your cunt and rear remain, and each step forward shifts them. The Slave suit kept you wet pretty much regardless, but this particular experience only furthers the effect. Climax never comes however, the ministrations more then enough to tease you relentlessly, but not enough to cum.] At least you have plenty to look at as you march. The Lead winds its way through the buildings of the outlying district, usually upon a platform raised above street level. It almost seemed as if you were on display: leashed and dressed in glossy laminate, paraded past the rare individual still on the streets post-curfew. More are visible within the windowed rooms that look out to the Lead, other offworlders given the perfect opportunity to gaze out upon your sort-- locked into a high tech slave coffle. [[Your march continues.->Lead Walk2]]

Diving down beneath the cityscape, the train reemerges on the far side, apparently running at ground level for the distance between the city center and the outskirts you had just left. The ride itself takes only fifteen minutes, but you cover a considerable distance. Had you taken the Lead, you imagine you may have been walking for *hours.* With your heels, clearly a considerable discomfort had just been avoided. And in that warm feeling of choices well made, you consider the next one before you: the Club and the Way Up. The Black Card had given an address, 356 Cross Street, and a time-- dusk. Both rapidly approached. Despite all your misadventures along the way, you could still make it. The deal of a lifetime with a party unknown could still go down. *If* that was what you still wanted. A safer option presented itself, of course. The ticket you held for the Way Up. It expired at midnight tonight, and to chase the Black Card's promise would be to risk missing your ride. And that was ignoring your battered memory, the mystery that still held sway there. Could you have erased your own recollection of recent events, and tied yourself to that bed, in some attempt to prevent a meeting with that Black Card? Why? Either way, a decision would have to be made soon. Glancing out the window again, you are greeted with another transit hub, much like the one you left in that it had been built on a raised platform. But this one is towered over by the buildings around it, and on approach you can already see the platform is much busier then the outskirts. [[Next stop: Grand Aekora!->Train Ride 2]]

Your trip is made in comfort, and glancing out the window, a fair bit of style too. The carriage was not particularly fast, but the quartet of harnessed girls providing your transport draw eyes which soon fall upon *you.* You had witnessed how rare vehicles tended to be, after all. It's not hard to consider the curiosity that filled those you passed, wondering who had the wealth to travel in style. It's a tantalizing prospect, but one you eventually push aside. The ride itself takes only an hour, but you cover a considerable distance. Had you taken the Lead, you imagine you may have been walking for *hours.* With your heels, clearly a considerable discomfort had just been avoided. And in that warm feeling of choices well made, you consider the next one before you: the Club and the Way Up. The Black Card had given an address, 356 Cross Street, and a time-- dusk. Both rapidly approached. Despite all your misadventures along the way, you could still make it. The deal of a lifetime with a party unknown could still go down. *If* that was what you still wanted. A safer option presented itself, of course. The ticket you held for the Way Up. It expired at midnight tonight, and to chase the Black Card's promise would be to risk missing your ride. And that was ignoring your battered memory, the mystery that still held sway there. Could you have erased your own recollection of recent events, and tied yourself to that bed, in some attempt to prevent a meeting with that Black Card? Why? Either way, a decision would have to be made soon. Glancing out the window again, you are greeted with another transit hub, much like the one you left in that it had been built on a raised platform. But this one is towered over by the buildings around it, and on approach you can already see the platform is much busier then the outskirts. [[Next stop: Grand Aekora!->Carriage Ride 2]]

Flashes of neon blur the train's windows, but from your kneeling position upon the floor you can make out little of the passing scenery. Instead of immediately continuing however, Isabella takes a moment to pull her electronic cigarette from her purse. The tip glows a familiar red as she gets it going, allowing you a moment's rest. [[Ensure your posture is perfect, stick our chest out just a bit further.->SlaveTChest]] [[Glance about the train car, keeping your eyes down.->SlaveTGlance]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/7Lkt4v0.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> The Lead platform is little more then a concrete patch beneath a suspended wire line, from which descend a length of steel cable every few feet. As you watch, those freewombs or slaves capable of hooking their collars to the cables do so-- those too heavily bound are assisted in the effort by attendants. After a few moments, the Lead moves of its own accord, 'escorting' its charge forward-- along a raised corridor that disappears between the distant buildings. The attendent brings you to a segregated loading position, red marks on the floor spelling out FULL RESTRAINT. Unhooking your leash, Euphoria returns it to her belt as she leans in. "As I said, we will be taking the Lead into town, Sister Azalea. We are slaves, after all, and are not allowed other options. It is traditional within our convent that we do so utilizing Aekora's full restraint package, to which you will be fitted shortly. I would recommend you take the opportunity for self-reflection this trip will provide. Now pull down your muzzle, and open your mouth." [["Do we need... whatever this is, though?"->NunLead3No]] [["Yes, Sister."->NunLeadYes]]

Euphoria's red eyes loom out from beneath the shadow of her habit, catching you in their stern gaze. "You are new to the Order, and I will remember that-- this time. But know that if you speak out of turn again, I will perform corrective action upon you. Women are best seen, not heard, and are we Sisters not that femininity exemplified?" She doesn't give you an opportunity to protest, but instead makes her demand again. "Pull your muzzle down, and open your mouth." You're in too deep now to truly resist. [["Yes, Sister."->NunLeadYes]]

Reaching up, your gloved hands momentarily shift the ring piercing your septum as you seize the laminate muzzle below it. Pulling the thin material down reveals your lips, and while you cannot bear witness yourself, you have seen already upon Euphoria what had been done there-- a paired set of words are carefully written, one one each lip in bright white. **Sinner. Slave.** You cannot speak to another without their being so reminded. But you're not asked to speak here. Instead Sister Euphoria provides you with a black rubber ball, seating it behind your teeth before securing the strap behind your head. The gag is then covered by your muzzle again, a slight bump the only hint that you had been denied speech. Then its the attendant's turn, opening her briefcase to reveal the implements of *full restraint.* Your arms are positioned behind your back then linked together with a small clip that utilizes your cuffs. A chain is then run up, forcing your hands up in a terribly unnatural way, until it can be connected to the waiting d-ring at the back of your collar. The result is a position of reverse prayer, an aching pain already rising in your forearms. Your ankles are given a similar, if less restrictive treatment, the cuffs there being linked together with a short bit of chain. You could still walk, if only barely. "Ah, a familiar experience," Euphoria muses quietly, watching as the final implement is affixed to you: a blindfold of black laminate, returning you to a darkness much like that of the Convent. [["What now?"->NunLead3]]

"Mmmmgh." It's all you can manage, the ball gag very much doing its work. Your moan seems to have drawn Euphoria however, who gently runs her hand along your habit as if it were hair. Her tone is soothing. "Hush. You need only focus on your walking. Without eyes to see, and hobbled as you are it will be difficult." The sound of further metallic rustling announces the Lead's chain running to the system above being snapped to your collar, just before you feel its weight. Euphoria's doing, provided with a final bit of advice. "Let your leash guide you, and remember: I'll be right behind you." That explains the wait that follows, the sounds of Euphoria being similarly restrained drifting back to you. Eventually the attendent inquires if anything further was required, to which the Elder Sister responds with a gagged moan of her own. That would be a no, presumably. You don't have to wait much longer before the Lead kicks suddenly into motion, pulling you forward. Stepping, your hobble chain almost immediately goes taut. The Lead hardly cares, requiring a great deal of effort as you struggle to take your next step. Blindfolded, it takes you a longer moment to notice the curving of your leash, the Lead moving to join into a singular track, merging with its fellows as it entered the city proper. Already you're panting. [[It's going to be a long walk.->NunLead4]]

It's little wonder the Lead system seemed reserved for slaves, and those freewombs incapable of paying for better transport-- somewhere past the first hour mark of your forced march you're feeling the effects of your fresh uniform. You've been on your feet most of the day after all, and given your outfits thus far that meant doing so in sharp stilleto heels. Your toes ache and your ankles burn, joining the sharp pain that comes from your strictly pinned arms. Meanwhile the gag between your lips and the muzzle atop it effectively deny breathing through through the mouth, requiring your pierced nose to perform the heavy labor all the while fighting the strict embrace of your corset to pull in oxygen. You cannot help but struggle somewhat, moaning lewdly into your gag as you shift your shoulders. All that does is wiggle your breasts, the piercings embedded in each nipple making themselves known as the soft flesh shifts. Had you more control over yourself perhaps you would have considered the way the raised walkway seemed designed to put you on display, the Lead being little more then a high tech slave coffle, your humiliation and submission so clearly demonstrated for any passerby. [["Mmmmh..."->NunLead5]] [[Push your chest out.->NunLead5]] [[Try to pull against the Lead.->NunLead5]]

Another hour passes, and then another. The last rays of sunlight glide along the horizon, running down your body in a glossy reflection amongst the laminate, as the city builds up around you. You're not far now, and that turns your thoughts to the choice ahead. The Black Card had given an address, 356 Cross Street, and a time-- dusk. Both rapidly approached. Despite all your misadventures along the way, you could still make it. The deal of a lifetime with a party unknown could still go down. *If* that was what you still wanted. A safer option presented itself, of course. The ticket you held for the Way Up. It expired at midnight tonight, and to chase the Black Card's promise would be to risk missing your ride. And that was ignoring your battered memory, the mystery that still held sway there. Could you have erased your own recollection of recent events, and tied yourself to that bed, in some attempt to prevent a meeting with that Black Card? Why? Either way, a decision would have to be made soon. The ache in your legs is rewarded by the sight of another transit hub, much like the one you left in that it had been built on a raised platform. But this one is towered over by the buildings around it, and on approach you can already see the platform is much busier then the outskirts. [[You've arrived.->Lead Walk 3]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/WEwBSLt.jpg" width="65%" height="65%"> (set: $IsWard to false)(set: $CorSec to false)(set: $CorDD to false)(set: $CorSlave to false)(set: $CorWow to false)(set: $IsGag to false)(set: $Wet to false)(set: $Plugs to false)(set: $Ballet to false)(set: $DrinkB to false)(set: $DrinkC to false)(set: $Rumor to 0)(set: $BarGreet to false)(set: $Cherish to 0)(set: $CherishT to 0)(set: $SargonMeet to false)(set: $SargonGo to false)(set: $SargonNo to false)(set: $SargonBother to false)(set: $PetrosWarn to false)(set: $PetrosTry to false)(set: $PetrosA to 0)(set: $PetrosFail to false)(set: $BRVIP to false)(set: $BRKey to false)(set: $BRCut to false)(set: $BRGag to false)(set: $Servant to false)(set: $BarSaw to false)(set: $TourAng to false)(set: $Bouncered to false)(set: $CherishPlan to false)(set: $CorStat to 0)(set: $AcadBonus to 0)(set: $ServBail to false)(set: $Value to 0)(set: $Indy to 0) Grand Aekora rises all around you, buildings thrusting towards the heavens, shealthed in gleaming glass. Neon lights burn out into the encroaching darkness from a hundred different sources, sendings waves of reflected light across the hundreds of figures you see moving in the distance-- the vast majority undoubtedly women much like yourself, clothed in so much laminate. Further back, those coming or going along the transport lines making their way, but the balcony is a space of serenity between both masses. (if: $Nun is true)[Sister Euphoria leads you by leash to the every edge of the balcony, your habits rustling gently as a light wind runs up from the city itself. The smell is clean, a reminder that compared to so many other worlds Torei is relatively new-- forged by its all but absent AI gods. Finally looking to you, Sister Euphoria takes your hands in hers. "What do you know of Daemons, child?"](if: $IsSlave is true)[Your magnificent view of the grand skyline is ended by a sharp command from your Mistress. "On your knees, hands behind your head. Chest out."] (if: $Nun is false and $IsSlave is false)[(if: $Level is > 0)[[[A sudden click draws your attention downward.->TimeRemove]]]] (if: $Nun is false and $IsSlave is false)[(if: $Level is < 1)[[[You consider your options.->TransitOps]]]] (if: $Nun is true)[[["I'm... not sure, Sister. My memory..."->NunDae]]] (if: $IsSlave is true)[[[Submit.->IsBind]]]

The Lead queues you automatically into a one of several offloading terminals, (if: $Level is < 2)[and it is to your great relief that you realize the lines for those capable of unhooking themselves from the Lead such as yourself is much shorter. It takes only a few minutes for the chain leading from your collar to reach its terminus, and the link itself to come loose when you reach up a hand. You're free.](if: $Level is > 1)[although unfortunately the line for those incapable of unhooking themselves from the Lead such as yourself is much longer. It takes another twenty minutes for the slow progress of women before you to reach the attendant manning the station. Reaching up, it is simply a matter of undoing the link that had maintained your bondage-- but your armbinder had prevented that entirely. Nevertheless, you are eventually free.] There are no security checks or other impediments going forward, although the crowds do require some navigating before you pull free, slipping into an empty balcony overlooking the city beyond. [[Welcome to Grand Aekora.->Transit Arrival]]

It does not matter what you do-- the Lead has no mercy. If you fail to step forward, it all but drags you by your leash. The pace is automatically set, and your blindness is ignored. The tug of the Lead becomes your only sense of guidance, your hobbled steps requring intense concentration. Somewhere along the way you learn to shift your arms just a bit, prevening the worst of the pain that results from their enforced reverse-prayer, but it's a small mercy in the face of such tribulation. [[You keeo walking.->NunLead6]]

The sleek train pulls into its station with a mechanical purr, the doors along the right side of each car opening automatically. You rise(if: $Level is > 0)[, your hobble chain snapping taut with each carefully regulated step], making your way out with the other passengers. There are no security checks or other impediments going forward, although the crowds do require some navigating before you pull free, slipping into an empty balcony overlooking the city beyond. [[You've arrived.->Transit Arrival]]

The carriage pulls into the station with the snap of the driver's whip, and a sudden halt in perfect unison by the ponygirls that had pulled you all this way. Your door is opened by a waiting attendent, who offers you a hand as you descend(if: $Level is > 1)[ ,guiding you carefully down given the armbinder you still wore.] There are no security checks or other impediments going forward, although the crowds do require some navigating before you pull free, slipping into an empty balcony overlooking the city beyond. [[You've arrived.->Transit Arrival]]

You focus on yourself, taking a deep breath that your mask and corset make exceedingly difficult. With your eyes down you are presented only with your own image, a creature of black laminate kneeling before her Mistress. You fight the urge to shift your hips, or to make any attempt at shifting the pair of plugs buried deep within your womanhood and rear. Walking from Isabella's bench to the train had slickened your cunt, the muscles their sucking greedily on the laminate phallus. That Isabella had noticed your self reflection is noted with her heeled boot intervening, sliding between your kneeling legs. "Wider," she commands, tapping the inside of your thigh with a toe. "A good slave knows when to spread her legs." [[Spread your legs further.->SlaveTLeg]] [[Try to press your cunt against her toe.->SlaveTC]]

Carefully you shift your head, the mask locked onto it having killed much of your peripheral vision. This particular train car is perhaps half-filled, and its only then you notice that each of the small seating areas have a place much like the one you currently occupy-- an out of the way position for a slave to kneel in. At least two others like yourself are visible, one of them fully geared in a standard slave suit. Even at this distance, you make out a slight humming sound... which perhaps explained the occasional slight twitch from her hips that you notice. Isabella seizes your attention again by her heeled boot intervening, sliding between your kneeling legs. "Wider," she commands, tapping the inside of your thigh with a toe. "A good slave knows when to spread her legs." [[Spread your legs further.->SlaveTLeg]] [[Try to press your cunt against her toe.->SlaveTC]]

You comply, demonstrating your submission by spreading your legs further. Below your plugs shift subtly, momentarily sending a surge of adrenaline into your veins. Above, Isabella seems satisfied. As the cinnamon scent of her cigarette descends, so does her hand, stroking your head much like one would pet a dog. "You're a natural at this," she muses, pausing as she withdraws her leg. Only then does she reach down, a hand beneath your chin drawing your gaze upward, meeting hers. [["Now tell me once more about this Black Card you have."->IsTrain]]

You seek out the greater pleasure, the mere thought of her toe against your cunt. It's a reward she denies you, drawing her foot up quickly, pressing it against your head. The pressure forces you down, further and further, until your forehead is against the ground. Only then does she release you, a simple corrective action completed. "I appreciate the... enthusiasm, but I expect my slaves to do as I command them to. The alternative is a round of punishment." Her nonchalance never breaks, despite the obvious threat. Instead she takes another draw from her cigarette, the sweet scent of cinnamon descending alongside her hand. It finds purhase beneath your chin, raising it up so that she can meet your gaze. [["Now tell me once more about this Black Card you have."->IsTrain]]

You tell her everything-- it isn't much. Your waking to find the Card, its strange nature, and your initial attempts to make the meeting. Quite obviously, the collar around your neck meant everything had changed in that regard. That's a fact that Isabella makes clear by requesting your ticket for the Way Up, still valid until the end of the day. Holding it up to the light briefly, she then proceeds to rip it in half. "No longer valid," she explains, setting the pieces down. "Offworlder or no, slaves are not allowed anywhere near the Way Up. Were you to somehow show up there, the Ministry of Truants would detain you, and I would be notified to come pick up my property. And I would punish you *severely*, of course." (set: $IsLie to false) That last bit she had delivered with particular venom, leaning in to emphasize the point. It makes the question that follows all the more intense. "Have you seen a... I would hardly call it human. Have you seen a humanoid figure following you, at any time since you woke up this morning? It would be in pure black laminate, perhaps doing... strange things." (if: $Daemon is false)[[["No, Mistress... I have not."->DaemonNo]]] (if: $Daemon is true)[[["I... yes, actually... in this alley..."->DaemonYes]]] (if: $Daemon is true)[[["No, Mistress... I have not."(Lie)->DaemonNo]]]

Isabella stares at you intently, as if reading your very mind through the panel that allowed you to look out from your restrictive mask. What she finds there isn't clear, but she does eventually pull back, returning to a more relaxed position. Holding up the Black Card, the smoke from her cigarette wreaths it in crimson smoke. (if: $Daemon is true)[(set: $IsLie to true)] "Good. Hopefully my suspicions are unfounded then. My curiosity however... let us say it is engaged. We will travel to this address, and we will see what deal you setup and can no longer remember. Besides, it would be good to clear any outstanding obligations you have before you start in on your enslavement proper." [["But... what did you mean, ask about the... creature in black laminate?"->DaemonNoAsk]] [["As you wish, Mistress.->IsabellaRemove]]

"Kamn." It appears to be an explitive of some sort, reading the displeasure that crosses her face. "Well, let us hope I am wrong, and that it is not a Daemon." She pulls back, returning to a more relaxed position. Holding up the Black Card, the smoke from her cigarette wreaths it in crimson smoke. "My curiosity however... let us say it is engaged. We will travel to this address, and we will see what deal you setup and can no longer remember. Besides, it would be good to clear any outstanding obligations you have before you start in on your enslavement proper." [["But... what did you mean, asking about the... creature in black laminate?"->DaemonNoAsk]] [["As you wish, Mistress."->IsabellaRemove]]

"Eyes down." The command is delivered like a whip's snap, even if Isabella remains reclined-- honestly it was quite amazing how easily she slipped into the role of the domineering. "It is none of your concern. If it becomes relevent, we will discuss it at *my* leisure. And if not? I do not need my slave worrying about such things. Is that clear?" [["Yes, Mistress."->IsabellaRemove]]

"Good." She extinguishes her cigratte with a flick of a switch, returning it to her purse. "Now, we're almost at our destination(if: $Level is > 0)[, and I am dreadfully tired of you wearing those time-locked restraints. My slaves are bound in *much* better gear. It's about time we removed them. Remain still]. (if: $Level is 1)["At least you only have that hobble chain. Here, raise your rear." Reaching down, the small indicator light on the chain linking your ankle cuffs flashes-- followed shortly thereafter by the ends snapping open. Removing the chain, Isabella sets it aside, glancing out the window along the way. "And just in time." (set: $Level to 0)] (if: $Level is 2)["An entire day in an armbinder is something of an accomplishment," she intones, circling you. "Raise your rear. It's not a particuarly strict one, however. Perhaps someday soon I'll get you into a proper one." It's hard to follow, but you do notice the small indicator lights on your binder and hobble chain flashing-- followed shortly thereafter by the binder's loosing, and the chain going slack. Isabella pulls them both off, glancing out the window along the way. "And just in time." (set: $Level to 0)] (if: $Level is 3 or 4)["An entire day in an armbinder is something of an accomplishment," she intones, circling you. "Raise your rear. I'm quite pleased you've been pierced as well. Such improvements are mandatory for my slaves." It's hard to follow, but you do notice the small indicator lights on your binder and hobble chain flashing-- followed shortly thereafter by the binder's loosing, and the chain going slack. Isabella pulls them both off, glancing out the window along the way. "And just in time." (set: $Level to 0)(set: $Pierced to true)] Taking up your leash once more, she guides you to your feet. [[You follow.->IsabellaDisembark]]

You follow your black-clad Mistress off the train, merely one of several slaves being led off on leashes in such a manner. While passingly similar to the transport platform you had departed from, this one is much larger, and far more busy. Nevertheless Isabella guides you with purpose, obviously familiar with the place. There are no security checks or other impediments going forward, although the crowds do require some navigating before you both pull free, slipping into an empty balcony overlooking the city beyond. [[Welcome to Grand Aekora.->Transit Arrival]]

Without eyes to see, you have no way to gauge how far you've been led. The power of revelation only dawns on you when the Lead finally pulls to a sudden halt, and you're suddenly granted a glorious moment to rest your tired legs. Just what had caused the stoppage is revealed after another few minutes of waiting, when hands suddenly move across your laminate covered face. You had left the city's outskirts to a setting sun, but now dusk has firmly descended as you are greeted by another transit attendant. Glancing around, you take in the sites of another Transport platform-- but this one is much larger, with towering buildings rising up on all sides. Behind you Sister Euphoria is being unbound in the same manner you are, removing the leash leading to the Lead, then the hobble, followed by the arm restraints. The last is the ball gag between your lips, which the Elder Sister removes herself-- looming tall above you as she leans in. "A wonderful walk, was it not, Sister Azalea?" [["Wonderful? It was... very difficult, Sister."->NunLeadNo]] [["Most wonderful, Sister Euphoria."->NunLeadYes2]]

Euphoria's muzzle is once again in place, hiding her lips, but you detect a smile behind that laminate nevertheless. "Difficult? Yes it was. And *that* is what makes it wonderful, Sister Azalea. Pain and discomfort are products of our own perception, after all. Greater flexibility would make such arm restraints far easier to bear. Thus difficulty in bondage reminds us of our limitations. Now come, let us find a quiet place to speak further." There are no security checks or other impediments going forward, although the crowds do require some navigating before you both pull free, slipping into an empty balcony overlooking the city beyond. [[Grand Aekora rises to greet you.->Transit Arrival]]

Euphoria's muzzle is once again in place, hiding her lips, but you detect a wide smile behind that laminate nevertheless. Reaching out, her hands find your shoulders, the long sleeves of her red robe so bright against the black and whites of your own laminate. "You are well in tune with your own femininity, to realize so quickly how restraint can only benefit. This is good. Now come, let us find a quiet place to speak further." There are no security checks or other impediments going forward, although the crowds do require some navigating before you both pull free, slipping into an empty balcony overlooking the city beyond. [[Grand Aekora rises to greet you.->Transit Arrival]]

The debtor's restraints you had worn with as much dignity as you could manage had promised they would be time-locked, and in that instant you recognize their timer had run out. (if: $Level is > 2)[(set: $Pierced to true)] The chain run between your ankles, the hobble that had been restraining your every step, finally comes free. With a bold kick it comes free, allowing you to truly stretch your legs for the first time in hours. (if: $Level is > 1)[Your armbinder is next, although this proves a bit more challenging. As the locks release the uppermost seams come apart, but getting the rest off requires quite a bit of struggling. That it had been an effective restraint is demonstrated by that fight to get it off, even unlocked, but in the end you do manage-- fresh aches rolling into your muscles now that they could move freely again.] (if: $Level is > 2)[If you were hoping for your nipple piercings to somehow remove themselves, however, you are sorely disappointed. Their permanence is rather obvious, although you presume the Ministry of Improvements could remove and heal just about anything, given their reputation. (set: $Pierced to true)] (set: $LevelFix to true) (if: $Slave is true)[There is no liberation from your slave suit, of course. That had been *your* choice to submit to after all, and while the locks kept the breath-restricting mask upon your face and the plugs between your legs, the entire ensemble could be removed at a Wardrobe device.] [[Stretching, you step up to the balcony's edge to consider your options.->TransitOps]]

Two cards remain in your possession, each representing a choice. The first is brightly stylized, the longest side featuring a stripe that expands halfway down into a larger edifice-- representing the Way Up, and the passenger compartment that made daily runs up and down the massive space elevator. The ticket will expire at midnight, but that's still a few hours away. Squinting in the distance, you can even see a dim light streaking downward from the sky-- the elevator bringing new arrivals to the surface. It's still a bit away, but from your vantage you can make out a dedicated transit line running directly there. Given the number of tourists using it, the credit requirements and restrictions you witnessed elsewhere are even waved. The other option, of course, comes in the form of the Black Card. Holding it up to the light, you can still make out the address imprinted upon it. The mystery remained, as well as the potential reward: the deal of a lifetime. Riches untold. As long as it didn't take *too* long, so you can still make the elevator. [[Either way, you have to head down through the transit terminal.->Terminal]]

"Ah, of course." Euphoria replies empathetically, still holding your hands. "You recall of course the history I spoke of, regarding our Order? We of the Primrose first rose in the wake of the wars with the AIs that built this world, far before contact with offworlders such as yourself. They had been our gods, cruel and capricious. Without them, many felt lost. Thus our Order, a response to that void, to explore Bliss and Perception." She bows her head, as if the past itself could be sacred. [[Wait for her to continue.->NunDaeWait]] [[Bow your head as well.->NunDaeBow]]

"A lesson," Isabella intones, as you sink to your knees and take the requisite position. Your black laminate features are displayed and available for anyone to partake in, and you notice several of those passing doing so. Their stares are overriden by Isabella continuing. "What you are now holding is a presentation pose, the standard expected of slaves who do not have their hands bound." She bends over, the display of deterity and poise she puts on emphasized by the tight laminate coating her thighs, and the sharp embrace of her corset. "I suppose you may be wondering then, 'what if your hands are bound?' Well... let's explore that, shall we?" She doesn't really give you an option, but instead uses your leash to return you to your feet. [[You follow.->IsBind2]]

The lower level of the transport hub is a busy thoroughfare, a variety of small businesses and services set into the surrounding walls. From here the exit is clearly visible(if: $Blue is true or $Slave is true or $Smoke is true or $Brand is true or $Sec is true)[ however, and you're delighted to see the area is so built up in this district that interior walkways connect most every building to each other. A reasonable way to escape the strictures of curfew, especially in an area with far more tourists]. (if:$IsSlave is true)[As promised, Isabella detours from the exit to a small alcove-- where several women (and even a male) dressed in a variety of different outfits kneel. Each is leashed to a bolt emerging from the wall, revealing a convenient place to store slaves while running a quick errand. Leading you to an open position, she instructs you to kneel like the others. "Just suck on that cock until I get back," she commands, pulling her glasses down to provide an amused wink. "Won't take long."](if: $Nun is true)[As promised, Sister Euphoria detours from the exit to a small alcove-- where several women (and even a male) dressed in a variety of different outfits kneel. Each is leashed to a bolt emerging from the wall, revealing a convenient place to store slaves while running a quick errand. Leading you to an open position, she instructs you to kneel like the others. "I will return shortly," she instructs, producing a small shealth of laminate flat from beneath her robes. "You will remain here, and recite the prayer I have provided you. Hands clasped, head bowed, leads spread, chest out, aloud." You look down, reading the first line.](if: $Blue is true or $Slave is true or $Smoke is true or $Brand is true or $Sec is true)[You pause momentarily, preparing to make your destination decision before a hand settles suddenly on your arm.] (if: $IsSlave is true)[[[You nod your head, surprised to find your tongue already sucking greedily upon the intruder.->Terminal3]]] (if: $Nun is true)[[["I am a sinner, born weak by virtue of my gender, enslaved because I deserve nothing more..."->Terminal3]]] (if: $Blue is true or $Slave is true or $Smoke is true or $Brand is true or $Sec is true)[[[You turn, surprised to find...->TerminalStart]]]

It takes awhile, but the Elder Sister's red-eyed gaze does rise again. "The AIs have retreated, but they are still out there. In great ziggurats at the poles of this world they march along their own unintelligble path, as they always have, for millenia. But on occassion, their agents move among us. Some call them emissaries, but the traditional term is *daemon.* Creatures rendered in full black laminate, without eyes to see or a mouth to speak. A human locked into a suit they cannot control. (if: $Daemon is true)[[["I... saw something like that, in an alley..."->NunDaeSaw]]] [[["What does that have to do with me, Sister?"->NunDae2]]]

Bowing your head, you stand in reverent silence with your Elder Sister. The occasional passerby stops to look your way, two laminate nuns in quiet contemplation, but none interfere. Euphoria breaks the spell with the raising of her own head, as if emerging from a prayer. "The AIs have retreated, but they are still out there. In great ziggurats at the poles of this world they march along their own unintelligble path, as they always have, for millenia. But on occassion, their agents move among us. Some call them emissaries, but the traditional term is *daemon.* Creatures rendered in full black laminate, without eyes to see or a mouth to speak. A human locked into a suit they cannot control. (if: $Daemon is true)[[["I... saw something like that, in an alley..."->NunDaeSaw]]] [[["What does that have to do with me, Sister?"->NunDae2]]]

You tell Euphoria of your strange encounter in the alleyway, from that time that seemed so far away-- before your vows, before your enslavement. The Sister listens intently, her red eyes seeming to bear down with divine force. As you conclude, she shakes her head. "Then it is exactly as I feared. This Black Card you awoke with, it is a marker. You may not be able to remember it, but I suspect you have interacted in some manner with a Daemon already. The most obvious conclusion is that you made a deal with such a creature. A great Sin." She takes a breath, as deep as she could given she wears the same sort of corset as you do. "We cannot ignore this. Daemons follow a logic all their own, but if one is watching you we must deal with it directly. Its hold upon you must be broken, for the good of the Order as much as for your own sake." [["What could a Daemon want from me?"->NunDaeWant]] [["I would never deal with a Daemon!"->NunDaeDeal]]

"When you first met, you told me of your condition, your lost memories. And a card of black, with words that move of their own accord? This Black Card you awoke with, it is a marker. You may not be able to remember it, but I suspect you have interacted in some manner with a Daemon already. The most obvious conclusion is that you made a deal with such a creature. A great Sin." She takes a breath, as deep as she could given she wears the same sort of corset as you do. "We cannot ignore this. Daemons follow a logic all their own, but if one is watching you we must deal with it directly. Its hold upon you must be broken, for the good of the Order as much as for your own sake." [["What could a Daemon want from me?"->NunDaeWant]] [["I would never deal with a Daemon!"->NunDaeDeal]]

Euphoria shakes her head slightly, her habit shifting. "That I cannot say, Sister. Daemons dance to the tune of a distant god. Their actions are nigh-unfathomable. Perhaps we will discover its intent when we confront it, perhaps not. Either way, we must make our way to that address. A nightclub of some sort? Hmm..." She finally releases her hold upon your hands, so that one long finger can tap at her muzzled chin. "Given our nature, as slaves to the Order, a nightclub would generally prevent our entering. We will need an escort, a male to overcome the weakness of our femininity." The leash that had been hanging idly between your breasts is taken up again, the Elder Sister intent on leading the way. "Come. I will set something up." [[You follow your Sister.->Terminal]]

Euphoria shakes her head slightly, her habit shifting. "I hardly think you are in a position to make such declarations, Sister. Given your memory. But what would you have offered? Hm. Daemons dance to the tune of a distant god. Their actions are nigh-unfathomable. Perhaps we will discover its intent when we confront it, perhaps not. Either way, we must make our way to that address. A nightclub of some sort? Hmm..." She finally releases her hold upon your hands, so that one long finger can tap at her muzzled chin. "Given our nature, as slaves to the Order, a nightclub would generally prevent our entering. We will need an escort, a male to overcome the weakness of our femininity." The leash that had been hanging idly between your breasts is taken up again, the Elder Sister intent on leading the way. "Come. I will set something up." [[You follow your Sister.->Terminal]]

Diving back into the passing multitudes, you keep close behind Isabella-- although with your leash, she doesn't give much slack. Your destination proves to be closeby at least, and its familiar too: a bank of Wardrobe devices, provided for travelers looking to change out their laminate before leaving or upon arrival. Approaching one, Isabella wastes little time in using the exterior panel to make a series of selections. That she intended them solely for *you* becomes apparent when she rounds on you suddenly, the mirror-like glasses she wore reflecting your own black laminated visage back your way. "Do you want the Good News... or the Fun News?" [["Uh... good news?"->IsGood]] [["The... fun news?"->IsBad]]

"Good news is that your regulation mask is coming off," she grins, her ruby red lips so very bright. "But the *fun* news is that's because I want to use that mouth of yours. Get in the Wardrobe." [["Can you at least tell me what that means?"->IsRef]] [["Yes... Mistress."->IsWard]]

"Good answer," she grins, her ruby red lips so very bright. "The *fun* news is that I'm going to be making some additions to your suit. But the good news, for you at least, is that it will involve that regulation mask coming off. Lucky you. Now get in the Wardrobe." [["Can you at least tell me what that means?"->IsRef]] [["Yes... Mistress."->IsWard]]

Still holding your leash with one hand, the Mistress yanks on it suddenly, pulling you closer. That allows her free hand to strike out, swatting you sharply upon the rear. Your laminated cheek cracks from the impact, momentarily drawing the attention of several of those nearby. (set: $IsWard to true) "I don't need to explain anything to a *slave*," she reprimands. "I'll remember that, don't you think I won't. But we will deal with that tonight, after the Club. For now? Get in." [[Testing her patience a second time seems ill-advised. You get in.->IsWard]]

Wardrobe Devices must generally feature a standardized appearance, at least in Aekora, you conclude as you step in. Behind the door seals shut, leaving you with the bright white panels lining all six surfaces surrounding you-- and the armatures inevitably hidden beneath. Instead of lightng up to your presence the interior control surface shifts, the screen going black as red letters appear upon its surface: *slave protocols engaged.* The restraints emerge afterward, grasping arms seizing your limbs, forcing them to spread as other devices engage. As promised, the first works free your breath regulating mask-- freeing you from its repressive control of oxygen, allowing you to take your first deep breath in hours. It proves poorly timed however, as another set of arms slip a medical-like set of braces momentarily between your lips. You thrash, a natural instict, but they don't proceed further-- instead a padded ring follows in its wake, being seated behind your front teeth. The braces then pull back, slipping out through the center of the ring, extruding straps that eventually snap into the black laminate of the bondage hood you still wear. A ring gag, meant to keep your mouth open. You're so focused on it you hardly notice another long length of laminate extruding itself, however, until slides into the ring. A phallus, driven into your mouth, nearly threatening to descend your throat. Again you thrash, trying to bite down, but the ring prevents that-- and a magnetic ring holds the base of the cock firmly to your lips. [["MMMMMHPH!"->IsWard2]]

It's not over yet. Now gagged, your head is abandoned as the armatures cycle downward. Starting at your corseted waist they begin printing a new piece of gear upon you, working upward. The Wardrobe's arms then force your arms down, crossing them beneath your laminated bust. Sleeves are produced, layering laminate upon laminate, the ends coating your hands but not seperating the fingers-- forming bondage mitts. Continuing, it leaves your bust exposed, but does run a heavy strap up between your breasts to support the top of the bolero straitjacket in mid-creation. [["Mmmmgh..."->IsWard3]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/TbEgqYZ.jpg" width="40%" height="40%"> You emerge a few minutes later, the laminate having been flash-cooled and set. Isabella awaits eagerly, even pulling her glasses up to inspect your altered outfit more closely. By her grin, she clearly finds the straitjacket and gags to her tastes. "Now *there* we are," she postively purrs, taking up your leash again, drawing you in close. Her hands immediately begin to explore your laminate, the slick material of her own gloves gliding effortlessly across your shoulders. At your breasts she pauses,(if: $Pierced is true)[ tweaking your pierced nipples with glee, then] fondling your rounded bosom. Reaching up further her fingers find the base of the cock gag, a bit of effort overcoming the magnets to allowe her to pull it out. Your saliva follows, clinging to the obsidian phallus before dripping onto your chest. She reinserts it immediately afterward, smiling again as your brows upturn, struggling to take its length. "I only thought it proper we fill all *three* of your holes," she notes with amusement. [["Mmmgh..."->IsWard4]]

"It's not even locked on," as if to demonstrate, she pulls the cock out again-- giving you a brief moment's mercy before plunging it between your lips again. "You just can't do anything about it with that jacket on, can you?" She doesn't need, nor does she look for an answer. Instead your cinnamon-scented Mistress merely takes up your leash again, tugging on it to force your following along. "Come then. I need to stop and send a message to my other slaves, and then we will make for that address on the Black Card. A club of some sort, if I recall correctly. You focus on breathing only through your nose as you follow along. [[Down, to the terminal.->Terminal]]

(if: $IsSlave is true)[As your Mistress walks away, you're left in her wake, kneeling beside a line of other slaves, still trying to adjust to what truly amounted to a pair of gags lodged between your lips. Having every hole filled is truly an intense experience, especially when combined with the straitjacket preventing any real arm movement. It's a severe enough predicament to ignite a slight burn between your legs, your slickened cunt growing all the wetter as you try to further the sensation. Bound and leashed as you are, however, that's a losing prospect. But it's that frustration that momentarily](if: $Nun is true)["...I announce my submission to masculinity openly, and without reservation. My best use is to be bound and displayed, to be pleasurable on the path of those around me. I am valuable as a slave, an object to be owned..." The prayer is repetitive, as such things are, but it makes your position clear-- if your clothing didn't already. Euphoria departs, leaving you kneeling in line with the other surrounding slaves. Stealing a look at them, you realize most are looking at you. If that was due to your prayer, or your ornate regalia isn't clear but it's that glance around that momentarily] pulls your gaze upward, to those passing by. In a sea of laminate you spot a woman in offworld textiles, a sure enough sign of an offworlder-- but something further triggers as well. A... memory, half burned out and lost to the drugs that had stolen so many of your others, but still there. Tantalizing. You *knew* her, somehow. [[Get her attention!->INSGet]] [[Look down. You're not allowed to greet freewombs.->INSRef]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/4UJTJBh.png" width="35%" height="35%"> "My Gods, it *is* you.(if: $Slave is true)[ I could only see your eyes with that mask, but I just knew!]" The hand and voice are revealed to belong to a woman perhaps your age, her brunette hair long but a bit messy. Strikingly, adrift in a sea of laminate she wears regular textiles. But something else, something stranger catches your attention... a sense of... a memory of... Clearly she notices your blank stare. "Uh, hello? Snap out of it, it's me, Corinth." *Corinth.* The name breaks through, a handful of disperate memories have survived. You... worked with her, on occasion. A fellow independent prospector, perhaps even a friend. Here, in front of you, right that moment. *Staring at you.*" "I knew if I followed your trail I would find you. What happened?!" [["You were looking for me?"->TerminalII]]

"Yeah, I-- wait, what's going on. You seem like you don't remember me." Taking Corinth aside, you quickly explain your situation, underlining several times the amnesia you've been struggling with. Somewhere along the way her expression shifts from the furrowed brown of the concerned, towards something almost empathetic. "Gods," she finally concludes, clasping her hands together. "You poor thing, just look at you. For a moment I thought you had gone native there. That's kinda half the reason I came, you know. After you missed a couple check-ins with the firm, I volunteered to come here after ya. You kept talking about Torei, after all, ever since your first trip here. Always talking about it, the possibilities..." *More then just this one trip? Talking about Torei constantly?* Reaching up, she brushes her bangs out of the way. The staring has continued, something she finally seems to adddress. "Can I ask about it?" [["About the what?"->TerminalIII]] [["About the laminate?"->TerminalIII]]

"The laminate, yeah, *obviously*. I mean... look at you! They mentioned it on the prearrival documents, and whatever, blah, blah, blah... but to *see* everyone in it? To see *you* in it?" (if: $Blue is true)[She shakes her head. "I mean, it looks really good on you. All that blue laminate? It has to be weird though, wearing something that tight. Everything is exposed, kinda, right? And you've got all those other... things. Those are restraints, right? Have they been used on you? Why would you wear all of them? And those shoes, oh, I can't imagine stilletos all day. I mean I know you sort of blend in, with all the others, but still..."](if: $Smoke is true)[She blushes. "I mean... that's *really* transparent. You only have that black band between your legs, and even that is a zipper... It has to be weird, wearing something like that. Something so tight, and exposed, right? And you have those other things, that body harness... and are those cuffs on your thighs? Gods, all that with stilleto heels too. I mean I know you sort of blend in, with all the others, but still..."](if: $Brand is true)[She bites her bottom lip. "I mean, you wear it really well. The catsuit... and especially that corset, wow. You know something like that is archaic out in the 'verse, but it *does* really emphasize your hips. Those are advertisements though, right? That has to be kind of embarrassing. And I can't imagine wearing those shoes for any amount of time, but you were walking in them...](if: $Sec is true)[She shakes her head. "I mean, it looks really good on you. All that laminate? It has to be weird though, wearing something that tight. The skirt especially, with those... those are pumps right? That's like, old school. Something out of the ancient days. It makes you look *really* Torean, though. I definitely passed a bunch of other girls wearing that same sort of thing...](if: $Slave is true)[Reaching up, she runs a hand through her hair, gesturing towards you. "I mean... where do I start? You're in what they call a *slave suit*, right? Totally enclosed, with that mask... I would have walked right by you, but I saw those eyes-- you're very distinctive that way. Which is good, because otherwise you're just like all those slaves I've seen. Complete with colar. I mean... Gods...] [["I didn't really have a choice, alright!?"->TermEmb]] [["Maybe you should just try it yourself."->TermInv]] [["It's even better when wearing it. Come here, feel it."->TermXX]]

Your face flushes with embarrassment(if: $Slave is true)[, although your mask does hide most of it,] as you stammer out the reply. Corinth at least breaks her stare, looking away as she coughs awkwardly. "...right, sorry. Just... curosity, I guess." [["Maybe you should just try it yourself, if you're curious."->TermInv]] [["Can we just get back on track? You said you were looking for me, right?"->TermLook]]

"Try it? No-- I shouldn't, I mean, I just came here to find you. That was my only reason. But hey, you're alright, we can probably discuss that more, right?" [["Right... right, you said you were looking for me, right?"->TermLook]] [["There are Wardrobe Devices right over there, come on."->TermWard]] [["It's even better when wearing it. Come here, feel it."->TermXX]]

Corinth hesitates, holding out a hand. In the end you take the initative, stepping forward, guiding her into you. Her bare skin glides against your laminate(if: $Blue is true)[, running along your slick hips, pausing on the bondage belt at your waist.](if: $Smoke is true)[, running along your slick hips, clearly reveling in the tantalizing sight of the skin just below.](if: $Brand is true)[, running along your slick laminate hips before transitioning to the tight embrace of your corset above.](if: $Sec is true)[, running along your slick hips, then transitioning upward to the bright white of your bodice.](if: $Slave is true)[, running along your slick hips, before transitioning to the tight embrace of your corset above.] There she looks up, wide-eyed. "What has happened to you?" She whispers, more stunned then disapproving. "You always made a point of never... indulging in what they do here, and now... (if: $Slave is true)[you're like one of their slaves...](if: $Blue is true)[you're like on of their slaves...](if: $Smoke is true)[you're like one of their slaves...](if: $Brand is true)[you're like one of their slaves...](if: $Sec is true)[you're like a native-born Torean...]" [[Embrace her. "Isn't it wonderful?"->TermXXX]] [["I'm still not hearing a 'no' when it comes to trying it yourself..."->TermWard]] [["Perhaps... we should just get back on track, then? You mentioned looking for me."->TermLook]]

(if: $CorDD is true or $CorSec is true or $CorSlave is true)[Your chance meeting, and everything that followed, clearly makes it difficult for Corinth to focus on your question. But she manages. "Yeah, like I said, I came down the Way Up when you didn't check in. Last one you *did* make you reported checking into the Diarch's Choice hotel out from the city center. I was going to start there, but... obviously that's not necessary anymore." (if: $Slave is true)[She runs her hands down her laminated hips idly. "I'm going to make my way back to the space elevator, prepare to leave. If I stay... if I stay..." Her collar, temporary as it is, gleams as her fingers run across the laminate of her corset.](else:)[She runs her hands down her own laminated hips idly. "I'm going to make my way back to the space elevator, prepare to leave. Otherwise I might get lost in this planet, you know?" She looks to you with a knowing smile.]](if: $CorDD is false and $CorSec is false and $CorSlave is false)[Corinth shrugs, her offworld textiles seemingly so alien to your eyes. With your shotty memory, laminate almost seems more natural. "I'm going to make my way back to the space elevator, prepare to leave. Otherwise I might get lost in this planet, you know?"] [["I'm heading for the elevator too. I need to get off this world."->TermWayUp]] [["I can't go to the elevator just yet, not before I make the deal I came to this planet to make."->TermClub]]

Corinth hesitates, her button nose scrunching up as she considers the prospect. To her credit, it doesn't take her long to come to a conclusion. "I mean... yeah, let's do it! I'll try it. It doesn't hurt, right? And you know what you're doing, obviously." Leading her to the bank of Wardrobe machines nearby is easy enough, the local government providing them for those travelers looking to change before departing or after arrival. Taking a position at the exterior set of controls, you gesture for her to enter as the metallic doors whisk open. Much as you had back in the hotel, she holds at the brink for a moment, obviously wondering at just how the machine functioned. But she does eventually step through, your last glimpse of her being her glancing about the tiled interior. Looking down, you're presented with a number of choices for her first taste of laminate. [["Let's see here..."->TermWardH]]

You step even closer, arms wrapping around the other woman. Normally you would have been about the same height, but with your heels you easily have a few inches advantage. Corinth doesn't flee, but instead openly marvels as she looks up, trying hard not to stare at your laminate chest. [["Don't you want to be like me?"->TermWard]]

The selection of outfits at your fingertips is, quite simply, astounding. Unlike the limited mainframe maintained by the hotel, this public machine is far more robust, quite clearly capable of producing most anything you could desire. Almost all require special privileges however, or DRM keys, or simply large credit purchases. With Corinth presumably waiting patiently you eventually settle on three particular choices. You currently have (print: $debt) credits. [[The Debutante's Cocktail (Free!)->TermDD]] [[The Sextretarial Delight (Blue) (100 Credits)->TermSec]] [[Standardized Slave Suit (200 Credits)->TermSlave]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/tWL2aFo.jpg" width="35%" height="35%"> The screen displays a model wearing the selected outfit. It's sleek, form-fitting, and rendered entirely in laminate. Accessories are listed as a pair of black six-inch heeled boots (not pictured), beige-white laminate bow, garter belt with garters, and the stockings-- apparently formed from sheer matte laminate intended to mimic offworld textiles. Coordinated makeup is complimentary as well. *This outfit is free.* [["Perfect." You make the selection.->TermDDConfirm]] [[You want to consider the other choices.->TermWardH]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/RFnMSJA.jpg" width="35%" height="35%"> The screen displays a model wearing the selected outfit. It's sleek, form-fitting, and rendered entirely in laminate. (if: $Sec is true)[In fact, it appears to be a color variation on the outfit you wear yourself.] Accessories are listed as a pair of six inch open-front pumps (not pictured), and a pair of black laminate gloves-- alongside matching makeup. *This outfit will cost you: 100 credits.* (if: $debt is > 99)[[["Perfect." You make the selection.->TermSecConfirm]]](else:)[You cannot afford this selection.] [[You want to consider the other choices.->TermWardH]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/Q8FIDj1.png" width="35%" height="35%"> The screen displays a pair of models wearing the selected outfit. To call it *intense* would be a severe understatement, as the warning that follows makes clear: *This is a standardized Slave-Rated Wardrobe outfit, as described in the Aekoran Slave Codes, Chapter 812, subsection 10. Wearing this uniform will subject all Slaves to High Protocol Laws as described in the Aekoran Slave Code, Chapter 679. Freewombs wearing this uniform will be subjected to portions of the Slave Code, and certain liberties may be revoked.* Accessories are listed as the pictured corset, heels, regulation mask, posture collar, and (non-pictured) inserts. The corset is noted as featuring 'real steel' boning, and is custom-measured to match standard Torean expectations of functional corsetry. So too does the posture collar proudly proclaim its core as beein 'real steel', as well as meeting all Aekoran slave law requirements. The heels are listed as six inches in height, with one inch platforms. The mask is simply described as rated for Torean storms, as well as regulating oxygen intake. And the inserts? Those are described as front and rear installation, custom-molded for maximum stimulation. All devices feature 10 hour self-release locks. On one hand it would a terribly strict crash course in Torean culture for Corinth, but on the other... (if: $Slave is true)[you wear the exact same outfit, with all the discomfort-- and pleasure-- that came along with it.] *This outfit will cost you: 200 credits.* (if: $debt is > 199)[[["Perfect." You make the selection.->TermSlaveConfirm]]](else:)[You cannot afford this selection.] [[You want to consider the other choices.->TermWardH]]

You make the selection for Corinth, your account automatically charged for the licensing fee. Interestingly, the laminate material itself is apparently so inexpensive it's simply included with that. The Wardrobe is soundproof, with progress only being marked by a bar that fills upon your console, and a series of lights that emit from the slight space between the device's doors. (set: $debt to it - 100)(set: $CorSec to true) After several minutes the Wardrobe completes its order, your console dinging mere moments before the doors slide open... [[...and Corinth emerges.->CorReveal]]

You make the selection for Corinth, your account automatically charged for the licensing fee. Interestingly, the laminate material itself is apparently so inexpensive it's simply included with that. The Wardrobe is supposed to be soundproof, with progress only being marked by a bar that fills upon your console and a series of lights that emit from the slight space between the device's doors, but at the stage marked *plug insertion* you can distinctly make out a scream from within. (if: $Slave is true)[You cannot help but smile, very much knowing how that felt.] (set: $debt to it - 200)(set: $CorSlave to true)(set: $CorStat to 5) After several minutes the Wardrobe completes its order, your console dinging mere moments before the doors slide open... [[...and Corinth emerges.->CorReveal]]

You make the selection for Corinth, the cost free apparently because of a local Aekoran initative to entice tourists-- clearly it was proving beneficial here. The Wardrobe is soundproof, with progress only being marked by a bar that fills upon your console, and a series of lights that emit from the slight space between the device's doors. (set: $CorDD to true) After several minutes the Wardrobe completes its order, your console dinging mere moments before the doors slide open... [[...and Corinth emerges.->CorReveal]]

(if: $CorSec is true)[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/RFnMSJA.jpg" width="35%" height="35%">](if: $CorDD is true)[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/tWL2aFo.jpg" width="35%" height="35%">](if: $CorSlave is true)[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/Q8FIDj1.png" width="35%" height="35%">] As you have selected, the Wardrobe has made real. Gone are Corinth's scratchy textiles, perhaps the easiest means of identifying a tourist on Torei's streets. She's clothed in pure laminate now, (if: $CorDD is true)[from the perky ribbon set above her cleavage window, to the gap formed between her short skirt and stockings, to the heeled boots that adorn her feet.](if: $CorSec is true)[from the collar of her semi-transparent blue blouse, to the skirt pulled so tightly against her hips, to the heeled pumps adorning her feet.](if: $CorSlave is true)[from the black regulation mask upon her face, to catsuit and corset, down through her towering heeled boots.] (if: $CorDD is true)[She visibly gawks at her own appearance, modeling for herself once she realizes how readily the laminate allows reflective waves to run across her body. Hesistant hands follow, growing more confident as she first tests the slick surface, then runs them freedly down her wide hips. Looking up, her brows are upturned with concern. "*I can't wear this...*"](if: $CorSec is true)[She visibly gawks at her own appearance, modeling for herself once she realizes how readily the laminate allows reflective waves to run across her body. Hesistant hands follow, growing more confident as she first tests the slick surface, then runs them freedly down her wide hips. Looking up, her brows are upturned with concern. "*I can't wear this...*"](if: $CorSlave is true)[She visibly struggles with the stricture of her slave suit, trying to pull at the mask across her features. Further down her hips shift back and forth, obviously entertaining the plugs buried there despite her best efforts. You cannot even truly recognize her, just one slave among many now, as she looks to you. "What did you *do* to me?"] (if: $CorSec is true or $CorDD is true)[[["Yes you can."->CorYep]]] (if: $CorSec is true or $CorDD is true)[[[Embrace her.->CorEm]]] (if: $CorSec is true and $Sec is true)[[["Now we have the same uniform."->CorYepSec]]] (if: $CorSlave is true and $Slave is false)[[["I gave you the full Torean experience."->CorSlaveDif]]] (if: $CorSlave is true and $Slave is true)[[["I made you just like me."->CorSlaveSame]]]

She shakes her head, trying to pull her skirt further down. It wasn't designed for anything approaching modesty, a futile effort. "How? I mean, I know you are, but... (if: $CorDD is true)[look at the hole in this dress across my chest. And this skirt..."](if: $CorSec is true)[my blouse is *transparent*, everyone can see my... and this skirt..."] [["Come here." Pull her close.->CorEm]] [["I think you look great, Corinth."->CorGreat]] [["We all wear it here, Corinth. It's expected of us."->CorExpec]]

Stepping closer, your arms wrap around Corinth. She's clearly caught by surprise, meeting your eyes with that same concerned look-- but it breaks as your laminate chest glides against her own, bodies entwining. She blushes fiercly in response, but holds your gaze. Despite the public venue, few pay much attention to you-- sensuality often overflowed on Torei. "I..." It's all Corinth manages, breathing quickly. (if: $Slave is false)[[[Kiss her.->CorKiss]]] [[Press against her.->CorPress]] [[Pull away. "You will want to practice how you sit, in a skirt like that.->CorSkirt]]

Your outfits are nearly identical, the quintessential Torean office wear: tight laminate, leaving little to the imagination. "I know, I know, but I... we look like sluts." [["Come here." Pull her close.->CorEm]] [["I think you look great, Corinth."->CorGreat]] [["We all wear it here, Corinth. It's expected of us."->CorExpec]]

The poor girl clearly struggles to even stand, her heels pushing her posture up and forward, the corset and mask combining to make every breath an effort, and most difficult of all-- the plugs between her legs, crafted to shift and tease with even the barest of movements. "It feels... everything is just... I *can't*..." Her hand finds the Wardrobe Device, using it to steady herself as she bends forward, fighting to resist the temptation to press her free hand into the gap between her thighs. The suit emphasizes her every curve, allowing you to get your first *real* look at her. Corinth is generally lean, her chest small, although her corset does much to feature them as well as her hips. [["It's all right, just focus on your breathing."->CorBreath]] [["You'll learn to like it, we all do."->CorLove]] [[Pull her in close.->CorClose]]

The poor girl clearly struggles to even stand, her heels pushing her posture up and forward, the corset and mask combining to make every breath an effort, and most difficult of all-- the plugs between her legs, crafted to shift and tease with even the barest of movements. "It feels... everything is just... I *can't*..." Her hand finds the Wardrobe Device, using it to steady herself as she bends forward, fighting to resist the temptation to press her free hand into the gap between her thighs. The suit emphasizes her every curve, allowing you to get your first *real* look at her. Corinth is generally lean, her chest small, although her corset does much to feature them as well as her hips. Altogether, it's a feeling you know all too well. That overwhelming sense of lost control, of a dozen different sensations fighting for primacy. Of being exposed, of being on display, of being so close to *slavery.* [["It's all right, just focus on your breathing."->CorBreath]] [["You'll learn to like it, I have."->CorLove]] [[Pull her in close.->CorClose]]

She blushes a bit, trying to adjust the skirt once more before giving up on it. The red across her cheeks fades. "You didn't have to say that. But... thanks. I mean it." Her smile seems to underline that point. "And I guess if you can do it, I can as well. Any tips?" [[Embrace her. "Let me show you."->CorEm]] [["You will want to practice how you sit, in a skirt like that.->CorSkirt]]

She blushes, trying once more to shift her skirt before giving up on it. "That doesn't make it right, you know. To be exposed like this. I know men are rare on this planet, but *they* don't have to wear heels, or skirts like this you know..." [["Shush, come here." Pull her close.->CorEm]] [["If it helps, practice your sitting. Essential with that skirt."->CorSkirt]]

"I noticed that," Corinth huffs, still flustered but calming down. Her deep breaths only draw attention to the laminate pulled tight across her breasts however, obviously an unintended side effect. "It didn't even give me *panties*. And these heels. I feel like I'm on display for everyone watching." Reaching up, she pushes her hair out of her eyes, centering herself. It takes a bit, but she manages it. "Alright, well-- no going back. I'm pretty sure that machine like... dissolved my real clothes. So... how about we get back to why I was looking for you in the first place?" [["Yeah, why was that?"->TermLook]]

Your lips come together, painted and full. At first Corinth tries to pull away, but quickly she submits-- overwhelmed by so much laminate and raw sexuality. It's a pose you hold, reveling in the sensation until you finally break-- pulling away with her sweet taste upon your lips. [[Press against her.->CorPress]] [[Release her.->CorAway]]

Your laminated hips surge forward, meeting Corinth's. Already chest to chest, she isn't given the option to retreat as the smooth expanse of glossy material across your womanhood presses into her own. (if: $Slave is true)[Your plugs shift readily from the contact, your already wet cunt begging for more.] Arching your back furthers the effect(if: $Slave is true or $Brand is true)[, but your corset limits that action somewhat]. Before you can get much further, however, a shiny baton suddenly intercedes. [[You look to your left.->CorPress2]]

Breathing deeply, Corinth shakes out her arms, as if that in turn could work out the feelings you had unleashed within her. (if: $CorDD is true)[Her garters pull sweetly taut with each step, her heels snapping against the floor.](if: $CorSec is true)[Her long legs look quite splendid as the effect of her high heels and short skirt work in unison.] "Wow," she breathes, collecting herself. "Any... any tips, for this whole situation, I guess?" [["Just one: watch your skirt when you sit."->CorSkirt]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/KJdQ5QP.png" width="35%" height="35%"> A officer of the Ministry of Truants holds the baton, her laminate uniform gleaming in the terminal's overhead lights. "Move along, whores," she instructs, using the baton to push you away from the Wardrobe machines. "This ain't a spot for loitering, not unless you're using the slave hitches." (set: $CorWow to true) She gestures towards one of the surrounding indents built into the walls, where a number of collared women (and one male) kneel, each leashed to post emerging from the concrete. Perhaps surprisingly, however, the Officer then moves along-- already honing in on a woman arguing with a slavegirl store attendant further down. It's the break needed for Corinth to pull away, catching her breath. Still, she smiles slight, clearly fighting the urge to slip a hand beneath her skirt and finish what you started. [[Whew.->CorAway]]

Corinth does listen, her smoky-shaded eyelids marking closed eyes as she focuses on the simple act of breathing. (if: $Slave is true)[You know just how much those without a mask took for granted, each of your own breaths only coming with effort.] She still clearly has a way to go before managing with anything approaching dignity, however, as her pert chest rises and falls with each gasped breath. Neverthless she manages to finally achieve a semblence of normacy after a bit-- at least as much as one covered from head to toe in black laminate could. She looks to you. "How do I get this off? Can that machine do it?" [["You're locked in for the next ten hours, there is no taking it off."->CorOff]] [["Nonsense. You'll learn to like it, we all do."->CorLove]]

Corinth looks to you, an incredulous expression obvious despite most of her face being covered by the mask. "Something... something has happened to you. This planet... You're like one of them now, aren't you? A glossy *thing* just waiting to be owned." [["...yes, I think I am."->CorYES]] [["No I am not!"->CorNO]]

Stepping closer, your arms wrap around Corinth. She's clearly caught by surprise, meeting your eyes (if: $Slave is true)[through her glass viewport to your own] with that same concerned look-- but it breaks as your laminate chest glides against her's, bodies entwining. She blushes fiercly in response, but holds your gaze. Despite the public venue, few pay much attention to you-- sensuality often overflowed on Torei. "I..." It's all Corinth manages, breathing quickly. [[Press against her.->CorP2]] [[Release her. "Learning to like it yet? We all do..."->CorLove]]

"What?!" Anger rises in her voice as much as her posture, gloved hands curling into fists. All but faceless and so severely dressed, however, the look is far from intimidating. "I can't believe... you would do this to me. Gods! At least this planet is so remote that no will recognize me... not that they could with this mask, I guess..." Reaching up, she tries to push her hair out of her eyes, an old habit. Instead she finds only smooth laminate. She sighs, looking down once more before continuing. (if: $Slave is true)[You just know she's trying not to touch her own cunt, given how wet your own cunt is.] So... how about we get back to why I was looking for you in the first place?" [["Yeah, why was that?"->TermLook]]

Your glossy bodies pull even closer, Corinth's quiet gasp narrating the gliding embrace of laminate meeting laminate. Reaching in, your palm slides down her corset before transitioning to the softer flesh below-- and the locked zipper that covered her womanhood. She moans, (if: $Slave is true)[and your own plugged cunt aches] as you feel the base of her front insert. And yet somewhere beneath all that black laminate some sense of dignity reemerges, Corinth pushing you off, taking a step backward. [["Why did you stop it?"->CorLove]] [["What are you afraid of, Corinth?"->CorLove]]

You look to each other for a long time before she reaches up, fingers sliding along the collar pulled tight around her own throat. "At least I'll be able to get this one off," she concludes, shaking her head. "Can this machine do it?" [["You're locked in for the next ten hours, there is no taking it off."->CorOff]]

You look to each other for a long time before she reaches up, fingers sliding along the collar pulled tight around her own throat. (if: $Slave is true)["I don't believe you for a second. Look at yourself... you want this. You *want* to be on your knees to one of these Torean men, or even one of the women. A *slave.* At least... at least i can take my collar off. I assume this machine can do it?"](else:)["I'm... I'm not sure what to believe anymore. This planet... Torei... it... well, at least I can my collar off, right? I assume this machine can do it?"] [["You're locked in for the next ten hours, there is no taking it off."->CorOff]]

"Hey, great!" Corinth smiles. "Let's walk out to the shuttle, it's nearby, runs directly there. Come on." She leads you towards the door(if: $CorDD is true or $CorSec is true or $CorSlave is true)[ the laminate pulled tight across her rear making every step a treat.] (if: $CorSlave is false)[[[You make your way towards the terminal exit.->TermExit]]] (if: $CorSlave is true)[[[You make your way towards the terminal exit.->TermExitSlave]]]

"I mean, that's your choice... just be careful." Her expression is troubled. "This planet... I can see how it can tempt you. At least we can walk out to the shuttle, it's nearby, runs directly to the Way Up. Then you can go your own way. Come on." She leads you towards the door(if: $CorDD is true or $CorSec is true or $CorSlave is true)[ the laminate pulled tight across her rear making every step a treat.] (if: $CorSlave is false)[[[You make your way towards the terminal exit.->TermExit]]] (if: $CorSlave is true)[[[You make your way towards the terminal exit.->TermExitSlave]]]

A security checkpoint awaits at the terminal's exit. (if: $Slave is true)[For a moment it looks like you're going to be detained when the Truant Officer working her eyes over your uniform, but you get the sense that Corinth's presence helps smooth things over-- ultimately you're let through with only a warning given to your companion. "Watch that one, slave-suited freewombs are *always* whores, and they *always* get in trouble."](else:)[Given how many are moving through it, the Truant Officer only gives you and your ID a passing glance. You get the sense that if either you or Corinth had been dressed in full slave gear, it may have gone quite differently.] Afterward you emerge not out onto the street (a good thing given curfew), but into one of many connecting corridors between the various buildings that made up downtown. Pointing out the shuttle system that moved from various points in the city to the Way Up, Corinth waves goodbye. "I'm going to head to the elevator, wait until the ride comes tonight. With... everything that has happened, I hope you'll join me. Be careful." And with that, she's gone. [[It's time to leave Torei. Head for the Way Up.->WayUpTravel]] [[The Black Card and its deal still tempt you, make your way to the address it provides.->ClubTravel]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/KJdQ5QP.png" width="35%" height="35%"> A security checkpoint awaits at the terminal exit, however, and it is there that you run into trouble. Upon reaching the uniform Truant Officer manning your particular line, she needs only one look at (if: $Slave is true)[your and] Corinth's uniform to pull you from the line. "Hey," Corinth complains, stumbling in her new heels. "I--" She's answered wit a stun paddle being snapped against her rear, and the Officer's sharp interruption. "You've been randomly selected for an extra inspection, as a slave.(if: $Slave is true)[ Both of you sluts.] Up against the wall, hands against it, legs spread, rear up and presented." Corinth seems liable to complain further, but the Officer preempts her with a gesture of the stun paddle. The wall in question is between the entrance and exit doors, out of the way but very much visible to everyone coming and going. (if: $Slave is true)[[["Yes, Officer."->ExitSub]]] (if: $Slave is true)[[["Hey, we're freewombs!"->ExitResis]]] (if: $Slave is false)[[["Do you mean me as well, Officer?"->ExitAsk]]] (if: $Slave is false)[[["I can vouch for her, Officer. She's a freewomb.->ExitVouch]]]

Consulting a map nearby, you note a terminal of some sort runs straight to the space elevator compound. That would have been Corinth's desination, and thus your own. But in the back of your mind, you cannot shake the siren's call of the Black Card and its promised deal. You've been through so much, why not make all the bondage and laminate, the pleasure and the pain, worth it? You still have time, this is your last chance. You *have* to try. [[Divert to the Club.->ClubTravel]]

Grand Aekora envelopes you, a city of light and glass-- and so much laminate. Crowds throng the thoroughfares, nearly everyone cloaked in glossy laminate of a thousand different designs and colors. Even so, with your growing experience you find it quite easy to pick out the offworlders from those Torean-born or trained. You end up trying to avoid them, their gawking slowing the passage of those around them almost as much as their stumbling steps-- few seem well-versed in heels. Your impatience is fueled by a growing sense of Dusk drifting rapidly into night proper, and the Black Card's demand that you make it before the latter. Still, you reckon you will make it with time to spare. [[Almost there!->ClubTravel2]]

Joining Corinth at the wall, you take the position the Officer demanded-- hands against it, legs spread, back arched to raise and present your rear. At your side Corinth does much the same, her identical uniform making her your mirror image in submission. After a moment however your experience shines through, and you notice her legs are hardly *spread*. They're apart, certainly, but with so many onlookers passing by she's keeping them relatively close together. [[Get her attention, show her how a slave truly presents herself.->ExitShow]] [[Let her learn this lesson herself.->ExitLearn]]

The electrified paddle is deployed against your rear is short order, the pain from the impact almost worst then the shock itself. Corinth gasps as the Officer slides the paddle between your legs, a clear warning. (set: $debt to it - 50) "You just earned yourself a fifty credit fine," she gleefully declares. "Now get up against that wall, ass out, like the proper collared *slut* I know you are." [["You can't do this!"->ExitResis2]] [["Yes ma'am!" Submit.->ExitSub]]

With great embarrassment, Corinth had been approaching the wall-- but hesitates as the Officer pushing her towards it halts. She looks to you, then back to the slave-suited Corinth before adjusting her cap slightly. "No, I suppose you're free to go. But do you know this slave? I suppose I can allow you to take her through, if you do." [["I do know her, and can vouch for her."->ExitVouch]] [["No, she deserves to be treated like a proper slave." Let it happen.->TermExitLet]]

The Officer pauses, her deep crimson lips shifting into a frown. For a moment you think she is going to detain you both anyway, but in the end she looks to the long line behind you growing with every minute and makes her decision. "I suppose that will have to do," she sighs, checking your ID card before waving a subdued Corinth your way. "Next time, keep that slut on a leash." Corinth, still quite mortified, looks to you. [["Slaves never have it easy on Torei."->TermExitII]] [["Let's get out of here."->TermExitII]]

Emerging from the terminal with Corinth, you step not out onto the street (a good thing given curfew), but into one of many connecting corridors between the various buildings that made up downtown. Pointing out the shuttle system that moved from various points in the city to the Way Up, Corinth waves goodbye. "I'm... going to head out, and... try not to... you know, before my elevator ride arrives. Despite... everything that just happened, I still hope you're there when it comes." And with that, she departs. [[It's time to leave Torei. Head for the Way Up.->WayUpTravel]] [[The Black Card and its deal still tempt you, make your way to the address it provides.->ClubTravel]]

The Officer shrugs and Corinth nearly screams, then transitions into a *clear* scream as she's subjected to the stun paddle once again. You're given a front row seat to what follows: forced up against the wall, Corinth is made to lift and present her rear. She's searched thoroughly, the Officer spending plently of time with her hands between her legs, gliding along the smooth black laminate. In fact she keeps a hand teasing there as she searches elsewhere, then proceeds to question the girl. By the time she's finally released Corinth is all but begging to cum, a reward the Officer flatly refuses. Instead she is sent your way with a final slap of the electrifed pattle against her rear, a wink being shared between you and the Truant Officer. For her part, Corinth seems subdued, not even meeting your gaze as she makes for the door. [["Slaves never have it easier on Torei."->TermExitII]] [["Let's get out of here."->TermExitII]]

Corinth is already up against the wall, taking the position demanded-- which she clearly suggests you mimic, even if she's too afraid to say it out loud. Meanwhile the Officer needs only to flick the switch on her paddle's handle to punish you, another sharp jolt coursing through your body, this time via both thighs. (set: $debt to it - 50) "Only thing worse then a slut is a dumb one," she sneers, forcing you towards the wall. "That's another fifty credits, and I *won't* ask again." [["Yes ma'am..." Submit.->ExitSub]]

You catch Corinth's attention when she glances your way, then try to make your point clear without words-- talking would obviously draw the Officer's attention. Instead you shimmy your rear, bringing your legs together before kicking them out again, spreading wide to present your laminated rear properly. She catches on quickly, even if she looks down in shame as she mimics your submissive posture. The sight of your twinned rears, tightly coated in glossy laminate and presented for inspection, clearly pleases the Truant Officer as she approaches. "Good girls," she all but purrs, before sliding you closer together, hip to hip. "I'll do you both together, quicker that way. Your IDs come up as freewombs, but dressed like that... you're just horny sluts, aren't you? Say it." [["I'm... a horny slut, Officer."->ExitGood]] [["I'm... I'm not..."->ExitNo]]

The sight of your rear, tightly coated in glossy laminate and presented for inspection, clearly pleases the Truant Officer as she approaches. Corinth is another story altogether, however, the first chapter of which is started with the use of her shock paddle. With a snap it connects beneath her rear, finding the tender laminated flesh of her upper thighs. After that, and a moment's instruction, Corinth spreads properly. It earns a happy sigh from the Officer. "Good girls," she all but purrs, before sliding you closer together, hip to hip. "I'll do you both together, quicker that way. Your IDs come up as freewombs, but dressed like that... you're just horny sluts, aren't you? Say it." [["I'm... a horny slut, Officer."->ExitGood]] [["I'm... I'm not..."->ExitNo]]

Your response is starkly different from Corinth's, and as such you earn different rewards-- she is given a swat from the paddle, this time directed between her legs-- while your corset is landed upon with a hand that moves upward, briefly fondling your chest. "Liar," the Officer concludes, looking to Corinth. "But a lucky one. You are going to be subjected to a search as per Aekoran Slave Code law..." She slides her paddle into a slot at her waist, the weapon hanging off her belt menacingly. It frees her hand to slide along your hip, the other hand landing on Corinth. Moving across your rear she descends the cleft of your cheeks and settles her fingers firmly between your legs. "...and we will see just what you truly are." [[You tremble, the slightest pressure on your cunt plug so very sweet.->ExitPlug]]

Your response is much the same as Corinth's, and as such you earn the same reward-- a swat from the paddle, this time directed between your legs. With them spread the way is clear to the space between your thighs, and this time its the impact that causes far greater discomfort... and a not altogether ignorable level of pleasure. Your plugs had taken the brunt of it. "Liars," the Officer concludes. "But lucky ones. You are going to be subjected to a search as per Aekoran Slave Code law..." She slides her paddle into a slot at her waist, the weapon hanging off her belt menacingly. It frees her hand to slide along your hip, the other hand landing on Corinth. Moving across your rear she descends the cleft of your cheeks and settles her fingers firmly between your legs. "...and we will see just what you truly are." [[You tremble, the slightest pressure on your cunt plug so very sweet.->ExitPlug]]

Her hands tease, but then pull back out, returning to your thighs and rear. The Officer's fingers are gloved, the opera-length laminate designed for utilitarian purposes as much style, but it makes her touch all the more tantalizing-- laminate gliding against laminate as she explores your body. At your side Corinth gasps, fighting to maintain her posture as you too fight the urge to reach down and join her exploration of your curves. All around the crowds continue to move, those queued for the exit check especially well positioned to watch your shared molestation. Despite the lines the Truant Officer hardly seems to be in a hurry, her examination continuing languidly before she speaks again. "I want you bent over now," she commands. "At the waist, although with those corsets you don't have any other option. Hands on your ankles. Eyes on the floor, legs still spread. I want a good view of your plugged cunts." [[Submit.->ExitSubII]]

Like black dolls, in unison you and Corinth take the required pose. The position makes breathing even harder, (if: $Pierced is true)[and you can feel your pierced nipples being pulled by the shifting of your laminate, ]but you manage. It's then the Officer returns her hand to your plugged holes, her thumb pressed against your rear intruder as her other fingers stretch to play with the one in your cunt. Corinth squeals at your side as the ministrations begin, a slow in and out the Officer provides with clearly demonstrated talent. Since being installed inside your slave suit your cunt has been wet from the presence of the plugs, and now such direct stimulation drives you towards ecstasy. The walls of your womanhood *ache* for release, the pressure building as the Officer performs her work. After a few minutes, with Corinth already squirming, the Officer leans in. "Getting there, aren't we? If you want to cum, I want you to turn around, get on your knees, put your hands behind your back-- and tell me you're a wet slut who wants to cum. Got that?" At your side, Corinth shivers, but her dignity holds. She remains standing, and if she can do it why not you? You have the greater experience. (set: $TruCheck to 1) [[You won't give in. Remain standing.->ExitResist]] [[Your desire overcomes your dignity. Move to you knees, like a good slut.->ExitCum]]

(set: $TruCheck to it + 1)Your cunt may ache for release, but you won't give in *that* easily. Maintaining your bent over, ankle-grasping posture, you hold position. (if: $TruCheck is < 11)[At your side Corinth does the same.](if: $TruCheck is > 10)[At your side Corinth has shifted to her knees, legs spread and hands held up behind her back. She has declared her desire to cum like a slut.] The Truant Officer shows neither mercy or urgency, but instead keeps to her slow teasing of your plugs. (if: $TruCheck is 3)[At your side, Corinth begins breathing hard, her legs trembling a bit. Your own cunt burns with desire...](if: $TruCheck is 5)[You shift your hips back and forth, swaying a bit. Corinth tries to bite down on a moan, but it escapes nevertheless...](if: $TruCheck is 8)[Corinth is clearly struggling to keep her knees from coming together, her heeled boots finding little purchase on the smooth floor. She can't last much longer. Your own cunt is slick with desire as well, sucking eagerly on the cock sealed inside it.](if: $TruCheck is 10)[You can truly feel the effects between your legs, but for Corinth its just too much. At your side she finally sinks down to her knees, glossy black laminate hesitating for only a moment before she takes the demanded position-- legs spread, chest thrust out, hands behind her head. "I'm..." she all but moans. "I'm... a slut who wants to cum..."](if: $TruCheck is 12)[You still hold out, trying to outlast the officer. That you're starting to lose that battle is made clear by the heavy breathing that begins, your mask making the effort even harder.](if: $TruCheck is 15)[A moan escapes your lips for all to hear, despite your best efforts.](if: $TruCheck is 17)[Still you hold out, but your legs are trembling now, your breathing coming in short gasps. Maintaining the pose is hard enough, but the Officer refuses to relent-- just as she refuses to increase her pace, to sate your rampant desire. Were you not plugged, you're certain you would be dripping wantonly upon the floor.](if: $TruCheck is 20)[You try to hold on, to not give in. The mind wills it... but the fire between your legs burns through those defenses...] (if: $TruCheck is < 20)[[[You won't give in. Remain standing.->ExitResist]]] (if: $TruCheck is < 20)[[[You can't take it anymore, move to you knees, like a good slut.->ExitCum]]](if: $TruCheck is 20)[[[Despite it all your body seems to move of its own accord, to your knees, like a good slut.->ExitCum]]]

(if: $TruCheck is < 10)[Despite Corinth still standing boldly at your side, you give in to baser pleasures. Who needs dignity, or respect, when you have a cock locked between your legs or deep in your rear? Sinking to your knees, you turn to face the Officer-- and thus the lines formed before the security checkpoints, and part your legs. Your corset ensures your back is straight, but you make sure to thrust your chest out as well, then proceed to move your hands up behind your head. It's the classic Torean pose of submission. Only the words remain.](if: $TruCheck is > 9)[In the end, you join Corinth on the ground, giving in to your baser pleasures. Who needs dignity, or respect, when you have a cock locked between your legs or deep in your rear? Sinking to your knees, you turn to face the Officer-- and thus the lines formed before the security checkpoints, and part your legs. Your corset ensures your back is straight, but you make sure to thrust your chest out as well, then proceed to move your hands up behind your head. It's the classic Torean pose of submission. Only the words remain.] [["I'm... a wet slut who wants to cum..."->ExitCum2]] [["I'm a wet slut who wants to cum."->ExitCum2]]

(if: $TruCheck is < 10)[With her hand still between Corinth's legs, the Truant Officer looks down at you with a smile across her full lips. "Louder, slave."](if: $TruCheck is > 9)[Corinth remains at your side, in an identical posture, as the Truant Officer looks down at you with a smile across her full lips. "Louder, slave."] [["I'm a wet slut who wants to cum!"->ExitCum3]]

(if: $TruCheck is < 10)[Corinth finally breaks At your side, finally sinking down to her knees, glossy black laminate hesitating for only a moment before she takes the demanded position-- legs spread, chest thrust out, hands behind her head. "I'm..." she all but moans. "I'm... a slut who wants to cum!!!"] The Truant Officer's smile never breaks. "(if: $TruCheck is < 10)[Your friend was loud enough to make just what she is clear. ]Louder, slut." [["I'M A WET SLUT WHO WANTS TO CUM!!!"->ExitCum4]]

For a brief moment the terminal goes quiet, and all eyes turn to your panting, black-laminated form. Seeing just another slave girl announcing her submission, however, only the tourists stare for very long. The Truant Officer, meanwhile, steps forward. Her hand finds your head and Corinth's, petting the smooth laminate. "Ah... there we are, the truth. Isn't that just *grand?* (if: $TruCheck is < 10)[And what a hungry, wet slut *you* are in particular." She smiles down at you. "Your friend may be quiet inexperienced, but she held out longer. You should be ashamed."](if: $TruCheck is > 9)[And you managed to hold out longer then your friend." She smiles down at you. "You thought you could get through it, didn't you? The basest whores always lie to themselves."] Stepping back, she flexes her fingers, opening and closing each hand into fists. "Now... I'm not going to let you cum. That wasn't the point, was it? But I do have a special gift for you both, for your cooperation." [[You hold your posture, screaming internally. You NEED to cum.->ExitCum5]]

Moving to her station, the Officer returns with several bands of red around one wrist. "Stand," she commands, an order you and Corinth comply with-- if quite reluctantly. "Raise your foot, one at a time." In short order, she has slid one band apiece up each of your thighs. There they cling tightly, a bright break of red amongst the black. The Ministry of Truant's logo is stamped onto each side, but its the words printed across the front that stand out: on your right thigh: **WET**, and on your left: **SLUT**. "Something to remember me by," the Officer winks, then pulls forth her paddle. You're each given one more swat across the rear, this time towards the door. "Now move along!" (set: $Wet to true) [[You stumble towards the door, your cunt still aching, with Corinth right behind you.->ExitCum6]]

Pausing near the doors, you take a moment to collect yourself. It's not easy. Your womanhood still burns with desire, every step fanning those flames. But your zipper remains locked, and you dare not pleasure yourself openly-- not when so near Truant Officers. That leaves you with little option but to bear the frustration and indignity, knowing that the words you now wear on your thighs are quite true. Corinth seems to be working through much the same, still panting as she looks to you through her mask's narrow viewport. "What... what did we just *do?*" [["Better get used to it, that's how it is when wearing a uniform like this."->ExitCum7]] [["We just demonstrated that we deserve these suits."->ExitCum7]]

Corinth just moans in respose, her red-banded thighs trying to rub together. She may not have been Torean-born, but her lean thighs maintained the sort of gap between them that those born of the planet seemed to favor. "Let's just... get out of here," she concludes, exhausted. "I'll show you the shuttle to the Way Up, you can do whatever you want from there. [[You step through the doors.->TermExitII]]

(if: $IsSlave is true)["Mmmmmgh!" It's the best you can manage at first, with your ring and cock gags thoroughly conspiring to prevent anything approaching actual speech. When that doesn't prove to be enough you raise up, still on your knees but trying to emerge from the inset slave-hitching area. There too you are stymied, your leash snapping taut, affixed too low to allow you to properly stand. Squirming in your bondage, you fear it simply won't be enough.](if: $Nun is true)[You bolt straight upright, still kneeling but immediately pulling the leash hooking you to the wall taut. It's well designed, too low to allow you to properly stand, but high enough to prevent your laying down to rest. Further down your hands close, the posture of open prayer devolving into a clear attempt to get the woman's attention. You try to call out, but the crowd is numerous and loud-- and you're just one laminate-clothed slave among many. It just doesn't seem to be enough.] And yet, glancing about, the woman sweeps her gaze across the holding area. For a brief moment you fear she had missed you, but a sharp double take draws her attention back to you-- and your eyes meet. She moves towards you. [[Got her!->INSCorMeet]]

You may be quite new to the strictures of a collar, but this seems an obvious enough test of your submission-- you had no right to break from your (if: $Slave is true)[Mistress'](if: $Nun is true)[Elder Sister's] instructions to greet a freewomb. Maintaining your pose you look down, even if you can't help but watch the woman from the corner of your eye. It's how you see her pause, perhaps taking in the sights and sounds of a Torean transport terminal in full swing. Her gaze even passes over the nook you and your fellow slaves are stored in-- only to suddenly snap back your way, meeting your gaze no matter how hard you try and avoid it. With a burst of interest she heads your way. [[She saw you!->INSCorMeet]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/4UJTJBh.png" width="35%" height="35%"> As she approaches, you get a proper look at her. The lack of laminate upon her body marks her as a tourist quite readily, the bright textiles a far cry from Torei's ubiquitous material. She's a bit on the shorter side, although most of those surrounding wear heeled footwear, with long hair that's a bit ruffled by travel. But it's her eyes that pull you in, holding to your own as she comes to stand above. "My Gods..." she whispers, a hand covering her mouth. "It *is* you." Your confusion must have been obvious as she explains. "It's me-- Corinth." The name breaks through, a handful of disperate memories having survived. You... worked with her, on occasion. A fellow independent prospector, perhaps even a friend. Here, in front of you, right that moment. *Staring at you.*" "I knew if I followed your trail I would find you. But... what have they done to you?!" (if: $IsSlave is true)[[["Mmmgh!"->INSSlaveRep]]] (if: $Nun is true)[[["I know you..."->INSNunKnow]]] (if: $Nun is true)[[["Corinth..."->INSNunKnow]]]

Your moans find little purchase upon her understanding, a problem she immediately diagnoses as being a symptom of your twin gags. She bends over, hands reaching out with some hesitance towards your black laminated body. "I can't... I can't understand you," she says, her brows upturned with deep concern. "But I think I can get... what's in your mouth out, okay? I'll be gentle. We need to talk..." [[Hold still, so she can do as she says.->INSlaveRemove]] [[Pull back, refuse-- your Mistress would not allow that!->INSlaveFight]]

"Of course you know me," she replies, looking down at you with a worried expression. "We worked together, on and off, for awhile. That's why your firm contacted me when you missed several check-ins in a row, paid me to come find you. Last we heard you were staying at a hotel in the city outskirts, Diarch's Choice? So I was heading that way, but you're here... *with a collar.*" Even as a new arrival, she clearly understood what that meant. [["I'm quite fine, I've submitted to a holy Order..."->IsNunKnow2]] [[(Quote your scripture.) "As a woman, my natural place is on my knees in a collar..."->IsNunScrip]]

Your new oral accessories are indeed without locks, instead relying simply on your own utter inability to remove them. Moving carefully, Corinth's fingers seize upon the base of the cock first. The magnets give a bit of resistance, but slowly she is able to withdraw the device, sliding it out from your ring gag and out from between your lips. Your own drool trails afterward, hanging lewdly from your chin. (set: $IsGag to true) "Oh Gods, you have a *second* one?" She asks, peering at your o-shaped mouth and the ring installed there. "Alright... just hang on." It takes her a second to locate the clasp behind your head, but after a few moments she manages to undo it-- thus pulling away the strap holding it in place, and allowing the ring to be mercifully removed. Corinth looks at you expectantly as you work your jaw. "What... what has happened to you?" [["I've... I've been enslaved..."->INSlaveS]] [["I've found the most wonderful Mistress, and earned her collar!"->INSlaveC]]

To be allowed use of your mouth would be a great mercy, but your submissive side shines through-- certainly Isabella would not approve of this almost stranger removing the devices she installed. Pulling back, you shake your head as best you can, moaning into your gag. Corinth's look of concern only deepens, even as she stares readily at your glossy body. "We *need* to talk," she insists. "Please let me get that off of you." [[Hold still, you do remember her after all!->INSlaveRemove]] [[Refuse!->INSlaveFight2]]

"You sound... so nonchalant about it," Corinth replies, looking down at you. Kneeling, legs spread, wearing the vestments and habit of your Order. But its the collar and cuffs you wear that she focuses upon, the most obvious markers of your enslavement. "Gods," she curses, brushing an errant strand of hair from her eyes. "Your firm contacted me when you missed several check-ins in a row, paid me to come find you. Last we heard you were staying at a hotel in the city outskirts, Diarch's Choice? So I was heading that way, but you're here... *like this.* A slave... of a religious order?" Despite her incredulity, you detect a spark of curiosity behind her eyes. "What's it like?" [["It's been everything I could ask for, so far."->IsNunGood]] [["The uniform... it's so restrictive..."->IsNunOutfit]] [["It's so strict, I'm not sure it's for me..."->IsNunBad]]

"You... you can't mean that," Corinth replies, looking down at you. Kneeling, legs spread, wearing the vestments and habit of your Order. But its the collar and cuffs you wear that she focuses upon, the most obvious markers of your enslavement. "Gods," she curses, brushing an errant strand of hair from her eyes. "Your firm contacted me when you missed several check-ins in a row, paid me to come find you. Last we heard you were staying at a hotel in the city outskirts, Diarch's Choice? So I was heading that way, but you're here... *like this.* A slave... of a religious order?" Despite her incredulity, you detect a spark of curiosity behind her eyes. "What's it like?" [["It's been everything I could ask for, so far."->IsNunGood]] [["The uniform... it's so restrictive..."->IsNunOutfit]] [["It's so strict, I'm not sure it's for me..."->IsNunBad]]

"I... see," Corinth replies, looking down at you. Kneeling, legs spread, straitjacketed and so recently gagged your submission could not be clearer-- but leaning in, she focuses on the small tag hanging from your collar, the writing there making it official. *Property of Isabella Naram-Sin.* "Gods," she curses, brushing an errant strand of hair from her eyes. "Your firm contacted me when you missed several check-ins in a row, paid me to come find you. Last we heard you were staying at a hotel in the city outskirts, Diarch's Choice? So I was heading that way, but you're here... *like this.* A slave." Despite her incredulity, you detect a spark of curiosity behind her eyes. "What's it like?" [["It feels... right. This is where I should be."->INSlaveRight]] [["It's hard. My Mistress is very strict."->INSlaveStrict]] [["I've made a mistake... but I'm trapped... like this..."->INSlaveMis]]

"You sound... so happy about it," Corinth replies, looking down at you. Kneeling, legs spread, straitjacketed and so recently gagged your submission could not be clearer-- but leaning in, she focuses on the small tag hanging from your collar, the writing there making it official. *Property of Isabella Naram-Sin.* "Gods," she curses, brushing an errant strand of hair from her eyes. "Your firm contacted me when you missed several check-ins in a row, paid me to come find you. Last we heard you were staying at a hotel in the city outskirts, Diarch's Choice? So I was heading that way, but you're here... *like this.* A slave." Despite her incredulity, you detect a spark of curiosity behind her eyes. "What's it like?" [["It feels... right. This is where I should be."->INSlaveRight]] [["It's hard. My Mistress is very strict."->INSlaveStrict]] [["I've made a mistake... but I'm trapped... like this..."->INSlaveMis]]

You resist, again shaking your head as your lips suck on the cock installed between your lips. You almost *like* the ring keeping your teeth from closing around it. Cornith however furrows her brows, setting her stance a bit more readily. "We **need** to talk. Let me *help you.*" [[Reluctantly you submit to her will, and hold still.->INSlaveRemove]] [[Look down and ignore her, like a good slave.->INSlaveFight3]]

Corinth growls. "You're not getting out of this that easily." Your bondage, intrusive as it is, does not only allow your Mistress to dominate you at will-- Corinth demonstrates how most anyone can. Leaning in, she steadies you with a firm grip on your struggling shoulders, then reaches for your mouth. The magnets give a bit of resistance, but slowly she is able to withdraw the phallic intruder, sliding it out from your ring gag and out from between your lips. Your own drool trails afterward, hanging lewdly from your chin. "Oh Gods, you have a *second* one?" She asks, peering at your o-shaped mouth and the ring installed there. "Alright... just hang on." It takes her a second to locate the clasp behind your head, but after a few moments she manages to undo it-- thus pulling away the strap holding it in place, and allowing the ring to be mercifully removed. Releasing you, Corinth steps back to catch her breath-- you at least made every effort to resist her. "What... what has happened to you?" [["I've... I've been enslaved..."->INSlaveS]] [["I've found the most wonderful Mistress, and earned her collar!"->INSlaveC]]

"*This* is where you think you should be? On your knees, dressed like... that?" Corinth's offworlder textiles are all the more evident as she expresses such naivety. Could she ever truly understand what you had agreed to? "What is there even to like about that?" [["I don't need to worry about anything, besides what my Mistress desires..."->INSlaveWorry]] [["I get to be my Mistress' laminate doll..."->INSlaveDoll]] [["I get to have a plug in my cunt, and I can't remove it..."->INSlavePlug]]

"I can tell," Corinth notes, gesturing towards you. "All that... laminate, and bondage. I can't imagine being kept like... you are. Dressed like that, in public... what is there even to like about that?" [["I don't need to worry about anything, besides what my Mistress desires..."->INSlaveWorry]] [["I get to be my Mistress' laminate doll..."->INSlaveDoll]] [["I get to have a plug in my cunt, and I can't remove it..."->INSlavePlug]]

"You know what it means though, right?" Corinth says, empathy riding each spoken word. "That collar you have. This might be my first time on this planet, but they made clear what it means to be enslaved... there is no going back, not once someone gets one locked onto you. But you must have almost gone looking for one... what is there even to like about that?" [["I don't need to worry about anything, besides what my Mistress desires..."->INSlaveWorry]] [["I get to be my Mistress' laminate doll..."->INSlaveDoll]] [["I get to have a plug in my cunt, and I can't remove it..."->INSlavePlug]]

"Slaves don't get to do much of *anything*," Corinth hisses in return. "Except be teased and tortured and publically humiliated! Look at you, your... owner left you here, leashed to the wall like an animal!" [["I know, I didn't mean to be treated like that!"->INSlaveNOO]] [["It's what I deserve."->INSlaveDeserve]]

"That's not something most sane people would *want*," Corinth points out sharply. "You don't get to make your own decisions, you're just to be teased and tortured and publically humiliated! Look at you, your... owner left you here, leashed to the wall like an animal!" [["I know, I didn't mean to be treated like that!"->INSlaveNOO]] [["It's what I deserve."->INSlaveDeserve]]

"You're... you have...?" She looks down between your legs, your spread posture making it easy enough. "Gods... and to just *tell* me? You don't have any other use, I guess, except to be teased and tortured and publically humiliated! Look at you, your... owner left you here, leashed to the wall like an animal!" [["I know, I didn't mean to be treated like that!"->INSlaveNOO]] [["It's what I deserve."->INSlaveDeserve]]

"Well... there is not much I can do you for now," she relents, kneeling down to get at your own eye level. Several passing Toreans look her way, obviously wondering why someone with liberty would quite literally join a slave on the ground. "If you didn't have that collar... I was going to make sure you got back to the Space Elevator. But they wouldn't even let you near the gates, dressed like that. And the moment they checked your ID? Instant detainment." She sighs, then stands. "I'm sorry I can't do more, I really am. But I need to take a picture of you, as proof that I found you. Only way I get paid. That it's going to be with you dressed like that... well... I'm sorry." [[Take a submissive pose, straighten your back, spread your legs further.->INSlavePicSub]] [[Look down, it's not like you can stop her.->INSlavePicSub]]

"Well... there is not much I can do you for now," she relents, kneeling down to get at your own eye level. "Especially not if you *want* to be a slave, or if you really *do* like your... Mistress, or whatever is going on here." Several passing Toreans look her way, obviously wondering why someone with liberty would quite literally join a slave on the ground. "If you didn't have that collar... I was going to make sure you got back to the Space Elevator. But they wouldn't even let you near the gates, dressed like that. And the moment they checked your ID? Instant detainment." She sighs, then stands. "I'm sorry I can't do more, I really am. But I need to take a picture of you, as proof that I found you. Only way I get paid. That it's going to be with you dressed like that... well... I'm sorry." [[Take a submissive pose, straighten your back, spread your legs further.->INSlavePicSub]] [[Look down, it's not like you can stop her.->INSlavePicSub]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/xKXZ75H.png" width="35%" height="35%"> (set: $IsGagged to false) Corinth takes her image with her all purpose *glass*, sliding it back into a pocket afterward-- but not before holding the image up for you to see. What had once been a proud, independent prospector is now capture on her knees, legs spread, eyes down. A slave, waiting for her Mistress to return to collect her. "I need to get going," Corinth continues. "I'm... I'm sorry I can't do more for you." She moves to step away. [[Watch her go.->CorGoes]] [["My gags, I need them replaced!"->CorGags]]

Stepping back into the flow of passing Toreans and tourists, it takes only moments for Corinth to disappear from sight. And in her wake? A familiar scent blows in... *cinnamon...* (if: $IsGagged is true)[Mistress. [["Mmmmgh!"->GaggedReturn]]] (if: $IsGagged is false)[[["Mistress!"->NoGagReturn]]]

Corinth hesitates, turning back to look down at you again. Pulling against your leash, you gesture towards the pair of restraints she had set upon the floor nearby. "You can't... want those back in, right?" [["I do want them back in!"->CorGags2]] [["I need them, otherwise I might get punished!"->CorGags2]] [["You're right, nevermind." Let her go.->CorGoes]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/BXFPHC5.png" width="35%" height="35%"> Isabella squats down before you, if only to lean in, your own bound form reflected in her mirrored glasses. "Look at you," she purrs, tapping the base of your cock gag with a gloved finger. "How is my favorite slut? You had a *visitor*, didn't you? (if: $IsGag is true)[A visitor that you were naughty with. Don't think I missed that you let her take your gags out.](if: $IsGag is false)[A visitor who tried to tempt you with such petty things as the right to speak without a cock between your lips, and you refused... until she forced the issue. I suppose I can't hold that against you, not when you were a good slave and asked for your hole to be ringed and filled again.]" Tapping the gag again, you hear a click. "There, that won't be happening again. You're locked in now." She rises, taking your leash from the wall. "(if: $IsGag is true)[Your punishment for asking for your gag's removal from a stranger will be applied once we get home, but for now?] We have a club to get to, don't we? Up now." [[You move to your feet, struggling for balance without the use of your arms.->INSlaveEnd]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/BXFPHC5.png" width="35%" height="35%"> Isabella squats down before you, if only to lean in, your own bound form reflected in her mirrored glasses. "Look at you," she purrs, tapping your exposed lips. "How is my favorite slut? You had a *visitor*, didn't you? (if: $IsGag is true)[A visitor that you were naughty with. Don't think I missed that you let her take your gags out.](if: $IsGag is false)[A visitor who tried to tempt you with such petty things as the right to speak without a cock between your lips, and you refused... until she forced the issue. I suppose I can't hold that against you.] And you did not even ask for her to fill your mouth again. *Very* naughty." She reaches over, plucking the gags from the floor. "Your punishment for being ungagged now(if: $IsGag is true)[, and for asking for your gag's removal from a stranger] will be applied once we get home, but we must focus on the present. We have a club to get to, don't we? Mouth open." [["I'm sorry, Mistress!"->NoGagSorry]] [[Open your mouth.->NoGagQuiet]]

She stares at you for a long moment, then sighs. "Alright. It's only right, I guess to... leave you how I found you." (set: $IsGagged to true) Taking up the pair of gags, she begins with the ring, carefully placing it between your teeth before securing the strap behind your head. Unlike Isabella, her work is a bit fumbling, but she persists-- its not like it could really be done wrong, it only takes long. In short order your mouth is returned to a permanent 'O', your red lips as inviting as they are submissive. Taking up the secondary component, the phallus, meanwhile causes Corinth to shudder a bit. "I'm... really sorry about this." Sliding it in slowly, you nearly choke on it as you did the first time, but the length seems well considered-- enough to be uncomfortable, but not enough to endanger you. Nevertheless the sensation of the smooth rod being pushed between your lips stokes the fury between your legs, your cunt pressing forward, seeking stimulation. Corinth notices just as she finishes, the magnetic base snapping to the ring with a click. Your shameless seeking of attention is met with a mighty blush from the girl, who retreats as quickly as she could. "There, as promised," she concludes, before backing away. [["Mmmmgh..."->CorGoes]]

(if: $Nun is true)["Ah," Euphoria replies, a fire of motherly amusement burning in her red eyes. "Well, I will be right on my knees beside you. It will be a good step on your new path."](if: $IsSlave is true)[Taking up your leash in one firm hand, your Mistress leads the way to the exit.] Approaching the lines leading to the final security checkpoint of the terminal, you join the far longer one required of slaves(if: $IsSlave is true)[ while Isabella is admitted through the express freewomb option]. Many of those beside you are dressed in the pure black laminate of the standardized slave suits, making your own situation stick out quite prominently-- (if: $IsSlave is true)[your lack of a regulating mask having been traded for the set of gags.](if: $Nun is true)[your religious reglia covered in symbols of submission and femininity compared to their featureless attire.] "That one(if: $Nun is true)[ and that one,]" an Officer manning your line remarks to another further ahead. Just what she meant is explained moments later, when the officer seizes you by the arm. "Out of line, slave. You've been selected for an extended regulatory check." (if: $Nun is true)[The Officer seizes Euphoria as well, although she has to look up at the much taller Nun. ]"Up against the wall, legs spread." She indicates an area of the wall between two of the exit doors obviously reserved for such use, two other fully black-laminated slaves already in the process of being checked over. One of them is being groped quite lewdly. [[Submit.->InSlaveCheck]]

"No you're not," the Mistress dictates. Putting your ring gag in first, she follows with the cock, driving it between your waiting lips. Once it clicks into place, this time she locks it in with a futher tap of her finger. "But when we get home, you will be. Up now." [[You move to your feet, struggling for balance without the use of your arms.->INSlaveEnd]]

Putting your ring gag in first, she follows with the cock, driving it between your waiting lips. Once it clicks into place, this time she locks it in with a futher tap of her finger. "Up now." [[You move to your feet, struggling for balance without the use of your arms.->INSlaveEnd]]

"How could... anyone ever want *this*?" She asks, gesturing towards your black and white laminate with one broad gesture. It seems to make her offworld textiles stand out all the more. "What is there even to like about all this?" [["I have a path now, one that speaks to me as a woman."->IsNunPath]] [["You don't know how it feels, to be pierced and corseted, in so much laminate."->IsNunDress]] [["I get to serve, as I know I was born to do."->IsNunPath]]

"It looks so... intense. Restrictive." Corinth bites her bottom lip, then looks away, blushing a bit. "What is there even to like about that?" [["I have a path now, one that speaks to me as a woman."->IsNunPath]] [["You don't know how it feels, to be pierced and corseted, in so much laminate."->IsNunDress]] [["I get to serve, as I know I was born to do."->IsNunPath]]

"You know what it means though, right?" Corinth says, empathy riding each spoken word. "That collar you have. This might be my first time on this planet, but they made clear what it means to be enslaved... there is no going back, not once someone gets one locked onto you. But you must have almost gone looking for one... what is there even to like about that?" [["I have a path now, one that speaks to me as a woman."->IsNunPath]] [["You don't know how it feels, to be pierced and corseted, in so much laminate."->IsNunDress]] [["I get to serve, as I know I was born to do."->IsNunPath]]

Perhaps it's the confidence with which you speak that momentarily causes Corinth to hesitate, whatever rebuttal she had been preparing instead caught on her lips. She ends up biting her lower one, looking down at with you a mixture of concern... and something else. "You can't... you can't mean that. No one would... choose..." The fact that you *had* chosen quiets her, the thoughts running through her mind eventually being overcome with a move to pull her multiuse *glass* from a waist pocket. "I'm sorry I can't do more, I really am. But I need to take a picture of you, as proof that I found you. Only way I get paid. That it's going to be with you dressed like that... well... I'm sorry." [["There must... be something you can do, to help?"->IsNunNope]] [[Bow your head in prayer. "As you wish."->IsNunAllow]]

She takes your picture, undoubtedly barely recognizable beneath your laminate regalia. Still, you can only imagine the stories that will circulate among your former colleagues. The daring independent prospector, reduced to kneeling, head bowed, leashed to a wall and waiting for your superior. Is it thrilling? Terrifying? Sometimes it can be hard to tell. Either way, Corinth looks down at you once more before backing away. "I... really have to go. I'm sorry." [[Watch her go.->IsNunGo]] [[Return to your prayers.->IsNunPray]]

Corinth looks over her *glass*, her brows upturned. Empathy... a lack of capacity. "I really can't... you're *property* now, with that collar on. Owned by... the religion you've adopted." She holds up her device. "I can only document that." [[Bow your head. "So be it."->IsNunAllow]]

Given the crowds, it takes Corinth only a moment to disappear from your sight, her distinctive offworld textiles lost amidst the sea of passing laminate. You barely have a few moments to consider her visit, however, before a familiar figure emerges-- in glossy red and black laminate. "Sister Azalea," Euphoria greets, with a tone perhaps best described as that of a disapproving Mother. "I see you have been neglecting your prayers?" Kneeling down and reaching for your chest in one smooth moment, you barely register her intent before she twists hard on one of your pierced nipples, resulting in a pain as immediate as it is sharp. "I see you will need to reinforcement our prayer frames provide, upon return to the convent." Several other slaves nearby watch your chastisement. Euphoria ignores them. "I will correct you further at a later time, but we *do* have that meeting to make. Our escort will be meeting us on the other side of the security cordone." Finally, she releases your chest. [["What... sort of escort?"->IsNunEAsk]] [["Bow your head submissively. "Thank you for the correction, Sister."->IsNunSub]]

Your eyes drift back down to the laminate slip you had been given, the Order's testament printed neatly upon it. Before you can make it through more then half dozen lines, however, a black laminate hand lands upon your shoulder. Looking up reveals red eyes, and the shiny glint of a pierced septum identical to your own. "Sister Azalea," she greets, with a motherly tone. "I see you have been diligent in the worship of your own submission." If she had seen Corinth, no mention is made, the much taller woman instead focusing on the reason for her absence. "I am certain you will be most pleased to know that I have arranged an escort for us, they should be waiting on the other side of the security cordon for us." With a gesture, she indicates the lines near the front of the terminal. [["What... sort of escort?"->IsNunEAsk]] [["I am worthy only for the pleasure I can provide others, Sister."->IsNunSub2]]

Euphoria unclips your leash from the wall, taking it in hand. As she always does, her grip is halfway up the laminate cord, leaving you little in the way of slack. "The traditional sort, Sister," she explains. "Male, and Torean-born. Providing escort services to our Order is a common enough display of charity among the local nobility. We will, of course, demonstrate our submission and thankfulness to him upon entering the Club with his assistance. It will be good practice for you, and a firm demonstration of our femininity." Directing you towards the exit, she looks back over her shoulder as an addendum emerges in the form of a question. "Are you practiced in the art of oral satisfaction?" [["I... am not, Sister."->INSlaveEnd]] [["Oral... with a male?""->INSlaveEnd]]

Euphoria smiles beneath her muzzle. "In this moment, I am reminded of why I thought it proper to recruit you to our Order, Sister. You are adapting well to our faith and your slavery. All you need is a firm hand, and the strict guidance of the lash." Her eyes, so very strange and red, are nevertheless kind. "But I know you hold a question in your heart. Speak it." [["What... sort of escort?"->IsNunEAsk]]

Euphoria smiles beneath her muzzle. "In this moment, I am reminded of why I thought it proper to recruit you to our Order, Sister. You are adapting most readily to our faith and your slavery." Her eyes, so very strange and red, are nevertheless kind. "But I know you hold a question in your heart. Speak it." [["What... sort of escort?"->IsNunEAsk]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/KJdQ5QP.png" width="35%" height="35%"> (if: $Nun is true)[Euphoria takes the lead.] Approaching the white wall, you take the position demanded of the Officer there, her glossy black laminate and crimson lips suggesting little opportunity for resistance would be allowed. (if: $Nun is true)[Putting your gloved hands upon the wall,](if: $IsSlave is true)[Facing the wall with your straitjacketed arms held firmly in place,] you spread your legs, and wait. The Officer focuses on the other slave that had been there first-- with all those passing glancing your way-- until she finally starts in on you. "(if: $Nun is true)[Sister," she greets Euphoria, putting her hands on your corseted waist. "I'm sure you're in full accordance, but regulations of course demand this." At your side, Euphoria nods, glancing your way. "Of course, Officer. We of the Order are still collared slaves, after all. It is only natural we submit to such things."](if: $IsSlave is true)[This will be a full compliance check, slave," the Officer explains, stepping up behind you and setting her hands upon your corseted waist. Glancing to the side, you see Isabella waiting with a bit of a frown, having already cleared the checkpoint. It's not hard to imagine her name-dropping her family if she *really* wanted you quickly, however, but she settles in to wait instead. The Officer meanwhile leans in. "Is that understood?"] (if: $Nun is true)[[["Yes, Officer."->SlaveCheckOops]]](if: $IsSlave is true)[[["Mmh-hmm."->SlaveCheckOops]]] [[Nod quietly.->SlaveCheckPass]]

(if: $Nun is true)[At your side, you sense amusement from Euphoria, just before the Officer behind you snaps a riding crop sharply against your laminate just below the rear. It stings immediately, while Euphoria glances over her shoulder. The Officer notices her, nodding. "You may speak." That you had spoken without similar approval is made clear, but your Elder Sister apologizes nevertheless. "Please excuse young Azalea, she is *very* new to the Order, and her collar." Another strike of the crop follows, but this one is gentle-- a warning, as the Officer responds. "Well, for future reference then, protocol dictates your silence, slave. Now lift that rear, I want to see your cunt from here."](if: $IsSlave is true)[Your spoken words are met with a sudden snap of a riding crop against your laminate, just below the rear. It stings immediately, the threat of further correction made clear by the Officer leaning in. "Protocol dictates your silence during a search, slave. Now lift that rear, I want to see your cunt from here."] [[Lift your rear even further and spread your legs.->SlaveCheck2Good]] (if: $Nun is true)[[["That hurt..."->SlaveCheck2Ooops]]](if: $IsSlave is true)[[["Mmmgh..."->SlaveCheck2Ooops]]]

Your silence is met with a sense of approval from the Officer behind you, a simple test having been passed. Had you spoken, you get the clear sense she may have utilized the crop hanging from her belt. Having pulled back to observe, the Officer now steps up behind you again, sliding a hand freely between your legs. Her gloves glive across the smooth laminate there. "I want that rear up even further, slave. Show me that cunt of yours." [[Lift your rear even further and spread your legs.->SlaveCheck2Good]] (if: $Nun is true)[[[Take a calculated risk. "May I ask what this for?"->SlaveCheck2Ooops]]](if: $IsSlave is true)[[["Mmmgh..."->SlaveCheck2Ooops]]]

The Officer's search of your body is not short, and not subtle. She works slowly, beginning at your ankles and moving upward. Her laminate gloves glide almost effortlessly against your uniform, teasing to the point you feel a slight chill run along your spine as she reaches your hips. "Relatively well filled out," she notes. "For an offworlder slut." Her hand then shifts inward, between your legs. She presses against (if: $IsSlave is true)[the plugs installed there, chuckling as you fail almost immediately to surpress a moan. "Wet and eager, I see. A common enough state for girls in suits like that." Her hands move up your corseted waist, then shift to the straitjacket holding your arms tightly in place. "Wet, eager, and defenseless... your owner does know how to keep a slave properly, at the very least.](if: $Nun is true)[the soft flesh hidden beneath such a thin layer of laminate, chuckling as you fail almost immediately to surpress a moan. "Wet and eager, I see. A common enough state for you Sisters." You're momentarily released as she turns her attention to Euphoria, repeating the procedure-- although perhaps to your surprise the larger woman actively presses her rear against the Officer when molested between the legs. The Officer laughs, returning to you along the way.] Your breasts are next, the cups built into your uniform that displayed them so prominently also allowing easy access. (if: $Pierced is true)[Pierced, I see," the Officer notes, tweaking the bits of steel.] "No contraband, traveling with proper documents..." she sighs, actually sounding disappointed. "I suppose I will have to let you carry on." (if: $Nun is true)[[["I'm free to go?"->SlaveCheck3Oops]]](if: $IsSlave is true)[[["Mmmmgh?"->SlaveCheck3Oops]]] [[Stay where you are.->SlaveCheck3Good]]

The riding crop snapped against your upper thighs is immediate, the pain sharp enough that a sound slips past your lips-- a bit of a moan. That surprises you, although considering (if: $Nun is true)[your uniform](if: $IsSlave is true)[your plugs] perhaps it shouldn't. "Ass up!" This time the Officer had spoken loud enough to turn several heads. [[Lift your rear even further and spread your legs.->SlaveCheck2Good]]

(if: $Nun is true)[At your side, Euphoria shakes her head.] The Officer pauses, trading her riding crop for something long and cylindrical-- a shock baton, which she slides up between your legs. "You're not a very quick learner, are you, slave? I'll give you once chance to avoid this." (if: $Nun is true)[[["My apologies, Officer!"->SlaveCheck3Opps2]]](if: $IsSlave is true)[[["Mmmmmgh!"->->SlaveCheck3Opps2]]] (if: $Nun is true)[[["I'll be good, I swear!"->SlaveCheck3Opps2]]](if: $IsSlave is true)[[["Mmgh Mmrry..."->->SlaveCheck3Opps2]]] [[Say nothing.->SlaveCheck3Good2]]

Sliding her hands once more down your hips, the Officer finally withdraws her touch. If you were expecting any fanfare from passing the security check, she gives you little-- instead you're treated to a sharp smack on the rear. "You have permission to leave. Move along now, (if: $IsSlave is true)[slave." "Just in time," Isabella intrudes, striding forward to seize your leash once again, leading you to the door.](if: $Nun is true)[Sisters." Euphoria bows in response, seizing your leash as she leads you towards the door.] "The Club your Black Card provided the address for is our next stop," she explains, emerging out into a covered thoroughfare. This far in the city center, walkways link the various buildings, a clever way to allow paying customers who just so happened to be female to escape the strict terms of curfew. (if: $Nun is true)["But first, ah, there he is. We need our escort."](if: $IsSlave is true)["Hurry now, it's a bit of a walk."] (if: $Nun is true)[[["Yes, Sister."->NunMeetMale]]] (if: $IsSlave is true)[[["Mmmmgh..."->IsClubTravel]]]

With a flick of a switch, the Officer shocks you hard, the sting spread evenly across your cunt and thighs. (if: $Nun is true)[You moan as much as yelp, heels grinding slightly as you nearly fall, your habit sliding across your shoulders.](if: $IsSlave is true)[You moan as much as yelp, the plugs installed between your legs directing the current inward, amplifying the effect.] It's a correction the Officer holds you to for a solid twenty seconds before finally relenting. "You are *not* to make a sound unless I give you leave to do so," she explains. [[Another lesson in slavery.->SlaveCheck3Good]]

A tense moment passes, but in the end the Officer slides the stun baton out from between your legs. "That's right," she intones, hooking the weapon to her belt once more. "Proper protocol for a slave is that you do not make a *sound* unless I give you leave to." [[A lesson narrowly avoided!->SlaveCheck3Good]]

You've reached the current end of this story track! The path of the Nun, one of two "special" storylines, is not yet as far developed as the "regular" storylines. Check back soon for updates, however, and in the meantime try another path! Other endings are far longer! (set: $Ending to 12) [[Head to the ending!->Ending]]

You've reached the current end of this story track! The path of Isabella's Slave, one of two "special" storylines, is not yet as far developed as the "regular" storylines. Check back soon for updates, however, and in the meantime try another path! Other endings are far longer! (set: $Ending to 27) [[Head to the ending!->Ending]]

Instead of shock, Euphoria's eyes narrow, giving her motherly demeanor a thoughtful look. "As a slave, I would not dare to judge the intentions of a freewomb. Yet I think it best that you mean what you say." The long sleeves of her robes add a flourish to the way she reaches out, placing a hand on your shoulder. "This close to the Offworlder's tower, credits are most important. To be without them is quite dangerous for you, as a woman." [["On second thought... let me think about it."->Nun Hub]] [["I want to do this, Sister."->Nun All2]]

The Sister withdraws her hand, gliding effortlessly into something between a curtsy and a bow. Her legs are spread along the way, the garters hooked to her stockings pulling tight. "Then I accept your donation on behalf of the Convent. Your wealth, such as it was, will be put towards helping others find the path of greatest pleasure." (set: $debt to 0) [["You're welcome."->Nun Hub]]

Moving through corriders, you're not greeted with a grand vista of your destination from afar, but instead almost run face-first into an impressive display of neon. Your address, your destination, is labeled with bold letters: **(colour: "#e619e5")[CLUB LUSH]**. The doorway is ornate, curling columns framing each side, seemingly rendered in glass or some other manner of transparent material. Nearby lights enter them only to refract, spilling out in bright patterns. It's enough to distract you momentarily from a choice that presents itself-- but eventually you focus on your immediate concerns. Not only is the club ornate, it's guarded by a bouncer, a testament to the Club's wealth demonstrated by the fact that he's male. To the side a short line awaits, and even a quick glance makes it obvious the clientele trends towards the elite. The only slaves you see are attending a Mistress or Master. Getting in that way could be pricey. The alternative is a sign near the corner of the building, a neon arrow pointing around it and somewhere near the back. *Entrance By Merit* is all that's given as an explanation. [[Try the front door.->ClubFront]] [[I'll try the back door.->ClubBack]]

Despite your reservations, you make directly for the line leading to the front door of *Lush*. The wait takes only moments, the bouncer quickly waving through the handful of patrons before you. When it comes to your turn, however, he holds up a hand-- while looking you up and down. (if: $Blue is true)["Looking to get locked into something fun for the night?" He asks, indicating the various cuffs and hardpoints scattered about your blue catsuit. "You would probably have better luck around back. Best for slaves and submissives like you." He shrugs. "Otherwise, cover charge for freewombs is 100 credits."](if: $Smoke is true)["Good choice on the semi-transparent," he notes, indicating your catsuit. "Our lights will play across that something fierce. But perhaps you should try the back door, generally anyone submissive enough to walk around like that isn't going to want to go in this way." He shrugs. "Otherwise, cover charge for freewombs is 100 credits."](if: $Sec is true)["Evening ma'am, just get off work?" He checks your ID, brows rising as he notes the offworlder designation. "Not from around here then, huh? My mistake, given the outfit. Either way, you might want to try the back door. You're not dressed like a tourist, but they usually enjoy that treatment. He shrugs. "Otherwise, cover charge for freewombs is 100 credits."](if: $Brand is true)["I'm sure you're eager to get off those heels, but I can't let you through dressed like that," he explains. "Girls like you, wearing advert gear like that, I mean. You need to head around back, try there. Fair warning: they're going to want to change what's written on your body." As you turn to go he slaps your ass, laughing as you yelp. "Watching you go with that corset and heels, though? I'm almost tempted to break the rules."](if: $Slave is true)["Don't you think for one second you're getting in this way, Slave." He jerks a hand over his shoulder. "You need to go the back, see if you can earn a way in that way. Now get away from my door." As you turn to go he slaps your ass, laughing as you yelp. "With a body like that, though? I'm sure you won't have any problems.(if: $CorSlave is true)[ Especially with those thigh bands. A *wet slut* indeed!]"] (if: $Blue is true or $Smoke is true or $Sec is true)[You have: (print: $debt) credits.] (if: $Blue is true or $Smoke is true or $Sec is true and $debt > 99)[[["I'll pay the 100, I want in."->ClubFrontPay]]] (if: $Blue is true or $Smoke is true or $Sec is true)[[["I'll try the back, actually.->ClubBack]]] (if: $Brand is true or $Slave is true)[[[Try not to blush too hard as you make for the back.->ClubBack]]]

Making your way around the back of *Lush* takes some time, the building proving both surprisingly large and surrounded by smaller storefronts and businesses. Given the peculiar layout of this portion of the city, with hallway-like interiors encircling each block, it seems possible that any little bit of extra space had been rented out. Nevertheless you do eventually round a corner to find the club's secondary entrance-- and a line stretching far into the distance. [[Shit. Head for the back.->ClubBack2]]

"As you wish," the bouncer declares, deducting the 100 credits from your account. Stepping aside, he reaches above you push open the door. (set: $debt to it - 100) "Enjoy your time in *Lush*." (if: $Blue is true or $Smoke is true)[Checking the gloss of your catsuit once more, you step inside.](if: $Sec is true)[Smoothing your skirt once more, you step inside.] [[Music pulses through you.->MeetCherish]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/DZBI1bG.png" width="80%" height="80%"> Stepping through the portal, you're greeted with a cacophony of sound and color. Loud, pounding music thrums through your body as much as the air, matched with the flash of strobes and other lights. Most of the coloration trends towards violet, adding to the otherwise dim atmosphere-- while reflecting brilliantly off the multitudes in attendance. Laminate in a thousand different forms glisten before your eyes, each more elaborate or revealing then the last. The Club is a hive of activity, all of Torei seemingly condensed into this one place: Mistresses and Masters attended by slaves, tourists gawking at every passing sight, and spread liberally throughout freewombs and other such independents. Some are seated at the small tables near the center of the room, awash in the glow of neon, while others crowd the stage up front. Along the edges booths allow for a more intimate audience, shadows hiding most of what went on there beyond the occasional flash of laminate. Turning about slowly, you momentarily lose yourself in the madness of sensuality that perhaps best personified Torei. (if: $Ballet is true)[Your ballet heels put you on as much display as anyone else, the posture required to walk in them pushing your chest out and emphasizing your rear.](if: $Wet is true)[The bands across your thighs announce you're as much a participant as anyone else, the colors seeming to glow in the violet light, highlighting the white of the words emblazoned there.](if: $Plugs is true)[Your plugs once again purr to life, as if on cue, inducing a gasp-- and a struggle to prevent your hand from coming down between your legs.] As if to remind you of your place in it all, Lush gives one last look at your current condition via the mirrors flanking the door. [[Gaze long into the abyss...->MeetCherishColors]]

Clearly, *Lush* was a popular-- perhaps *the* popular nightclub in Grand Aekora. You pass all sorts of Toreans on your way to the back of the line, from spritely offworlders wide-eyed and staring at every passing woman (such as yourself), to Torean-born freewombs with slaves held by their leash, and every imaginable sort in between. What is *missing* however, are men, at least those that clearly did not look like tourists. Given Torei's proclivities, it's not unreasonable to assume they were allowed immediate access via the front. Luckily the wait is not as long as you initially feared. Instead of processing each potential entrant at the door, several women in black laminate move along the line, pulling out hopefuls seemingly at random-- although you note they skip anyone wearing non-laminate, and focus instead on the glossy, gleaming, and beautiful. It's not long before one of them taps you on the shoulder. "Purpose?" The bouncer looks at you expectantly, a *glass* device held in her hands. When it becomes clear you don't know what she means, she checks a box on her glass. "First time, huh? I'll give you the quick intro: you can wait in this line all night if you like, but we like to keep the party going inside, if you know what I mean. If you can prove you're worth it, we skip you to the front. So: what's your purpose?" She looks down, picking a few relevent options from the list. "Business? Pleasure? (if: $Slave is true or $Blue is true)[ Hmm... with that collar, perhaps you're a slave? Having a Master within doesn't exempt you.]" [["Business."->Business]] [["Pleasure."->Pleasure]] [["I'm not a slave."->NotaSlave]]

"Wonderful,(if: $Sec is true)[and not unexpected, with that outfit,]" she notes, making a note on her *glass.* It's the last notation she makes before turning her attention on you more fully, her eyes running up and down your body in a look of clear appraisal. "Alright, yout want in? You're almost there, with that outfit. Just need a bit more. I've got choices for you." [["Choices?"->ClubBackChoice]]

She smiles. "Of course you are.(if: $Smoke is true)[ Why else does someone wear transparent laminate?] Luckily, that's our specialty." She makes one more note on her glass, before turning her attention on you more fully, her eyes running up and down your body in a look of clear appraisal. "Alright, yout want in? You're almost there, with that outfit. Just need a bit more. I've got choices for you." [["Choices?"->ClubBackChoice]]

"Ah," a knowing smile follows. "I'll just put you down for *pleasure*, then. Only reason a girl like you would be in a collar, after all. Good news for you is that pleasure is our specialty." She makes one more note on her glass, before turning her attention on you more fully, her eyes running up and down your body in a look of clear appraisal. "Alright, yout want in? You're almost there, with that outfit. Just need a bit more. I've got choices for you." [["Choices?"->ClubBackChoice]]

"Choices," she repeats. "We've found it helps add a little... *fun* to proceedings if we sprinkle in a few wardrobe adjustments for particular guests." (if: $Blue is true)["Your blue catsuit and all those cuffs is an excellent start, but there is always room for improvement. You've got the option of plugs, ballet, or bands."](if: $Smoke is true)["Your smokey catsuit and that harness set the mood immediately, but we can do so much more with you. You've got the option of plugs, ballet, or bands."](if: $Sec is true)["You've got that secretarial look going, and it's a good start, but we just must push it further. That skirt would hide one of your options, but you still get to choose between ballet or plugs."](if: $Brand is true)["Let's be honest: an advert suit like that is a bit garish, and we do have a policy against such things in our establishment. So-- changing you *our* adverts will be required, but you still have the choice between plugs and bands."](if: $Slave is true)["The standardized slave suit isn't particularly *exciting*, but we can work with it I supposed. Besides, some folk like the uniformity. Anyway, I've got a choice for you between plugs and ballet.(if: $Wet is false)[ Oh, and bands too."]] (if: $Blue is true or $Smoke is true or $Brand is true or $Slave is true and $Wet is false)[[["Uh... bands?->ClubBands]]] (if: $Blue is true or $Smoke is true or $Slave is true or $Sec is true)[[["Uh... ballet?"->ClubBallet]]] (if: $Slave is true)[[["Plugs? I... already have those."->ClubPlugs]]](else:)[[["Uh... plugs?"->ClubPlugs]]]

"For your thighs, yeah," the woman replies. It's a bit dark inside, but they will glow in there, and we have a bit of fun with what we write on them." She holds a finger to her lips, thoughtful for a moment. "I'm going with... *FUCK* on your left one there, and *TOY* on the right. It's the kind of thing that puts the really fresh tourists in a tizzy, you know? Then you get let in the door." [["No way!"->ClubEnterNo]] (if: $Blue is true or $Smoke is true or $Slave is true or $Sec is true)[[["What about the ballet option, instead?"->ClubBallet]]] (if: $Slave is true)[[["What about plugs instead... I already have those."->ClubPlugs]]](else:)[[["What about the plug option, instead?"->ClubPlugs]]] [["...okay, I'll do the bands."->ClubBandsYes]] [["Actually.. I choose them all."->ChooseAll]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/GYD8t8q.png" width="50%" height="50%"> The employee points to a billboard across the thoroughfare. A model in pink laminate lounges seductively, looking directly at the camera. Apparently it was an advertisement of some sort for a cosmetic company, demonstrating it's wares in a very Torean style-- but your eyes are drawn to her boots. "Ballet heels," the employee explains. We'll match them to your current outfit, of course, but you will be on your toes-- quite literally for the rest of the night. They are *not* comfortable until you really get a chance to get used to them, but they are fun. Agree to wear a pair, and you will be inside *Lush* in no time." [["No way!"->ClubEnterNo]] (if: $Slave is true)[[["What about plugs instead... I already have those."->ClubPlugs]]](else:)[[["What about the plug option, instead?"->ClubPlugs]]] (if: $Blue is true or $Smoke is true or $Brand is true or $Slave is true and $Wet is false)[[["Uh... what about the bands instead?->ClubBands]]] [["...okay, I'll do the ballet boots."->ClubBalletYes]] [["Actually.. I choose them all."->ChooseAll]]

(if: $Slave is true)["I knew that already," the employee smiles. "Those standardized suits all the same bits, after all. Bet you're thinking they're quite the burden, huh? Well we can make them a bit more *fun* at least-- you probably don't know your plugs have vibrator functions built in. Let us turn them on, give you a nice variable setting to keep you running wet... and we'll get you right inside the club."](else:)["The *best* option, in my opinion," the employee relates, with a smile. "Hardened laminate, for your front and rear holes. Phallic obviously, but more importantly? They would have a vibration setting we would turn on. Once we do that, give you a nice variable mode to keep you running wet... then we'll get you inside the club."] [["No way!"->ClubEnterNo]] (if: $Blue is true or $Smoke is true or $Slave is true or $Sec is true)[[["What about the ballet option, instead?"->ClubBallet]]] (if: $Blue is true or $Smoke is true or $Brand is true or $Slave is true and $Wet is false)[[["Uh... what about the bands instead?->ClubBands]]] [["...okay, I'll do the plugs."->ClubPlugYes]] [["Actually.. I choose them all."->ChooseAll]]

The employee looks disappointed, but it passes quickly into a dismissive shrug. "Hey, your decision. Just know you're going to be standing right there for *hours* if you don't play ball. Or you can always try the front, if you have the creds to get in up there. Cover charge for freewombs is 100 credits." (if: $Blue is true or $Smoke is true or $Brand is true or $Slave is true and $Wet is false)[[["Fine.. tell me about the bands?->ClubBands]]] (if: $Blue is true or $Smoke is true or $Slave is true or $Sec is true)[[["Ugh, tell me about the ballet option?"->ClubBallet]]] (if: $Slave is true)[[["Fine... tell me about the plugs? I... already have those."->ClubPlugs]]](else:)[[["Fine... tell me about the plugs?"->ClubPlugs]]] [["You know what? I am going to try the front again."->ClubFront]]

The employee claps her hands together. "Great choice! We need only wait here, and one of our slaves will bring them out for you-- we have our own wardrobe machines within, of course." (set: $Wet to true) It's a promise kept in short order, although you're too far away from the door to truly observe from the slave anything more then a flash of blue and a scandalously short skirt. But your attendent returns to your side afterward, a band each stretched between the fingers of her hands. "Leg up, one at a time." Sliding them into place proves easy at first, but grows progressively harder-- by the time she seats them properly upon your upper thigh they're quite tight. "There we go! Follow me." She leads you out of the line and towards the front door as you look down, staring at the laminate bands now encircling each thigh. They're red, the lettering as bold as it is white-- **FUCK** on one, **TOY** on the other. It's hard not to blush just thinking about wearing them in public, and harder still when you notice several of those in the line you're passing staring at the additions to your wardrobe. At the door (if: $Brand is true)[you're halted once more, the attendant looking to you. "Normally you would be allowed in now, but we do need to address your suit as I said-- we can't have unregulated adverts, it looks... tacky."](else:)[the bouncer guarding it gives way, pushing open the door as your attendant waves you ahead. "We hope you enjoy your time at *Lush!*"] (if: $Brand is true)[[["So what is going to happen?"->BrandHold]]](else:)[[[Music pulses through you.->MeetCherish]]]

The employee claps her hands together. "Great choice! (if: $Slave is true)[We need only sync your suit controls to my glass."](else:)[We need only wait here, and one of our slaves will bring them out for you-- we have our own wardrobe machines within, of course." It's a promise kept in short order, although you're too far away from the door to truly observe from the slave anything more then a flash of blue and a scandalously short skirt. But your attendent returns to your side afterward, a pair of phallic devices held before her, one in each hand. Actually installing them takes some effort, the public nature of your position and their sheer size making it quite the challenge-- but the attendant's hands are practiced... and your body is strangely willing.] Holding up her glass, the attendant looks to you, for once smiling as her finger hovers over a projected button. "Ready?" [["Yes."->ClubPlugYes2]] [["Uh, well--"->ClubPlugYes2]]

The employee claps her hands together. "Great choice! We need only wait here, and one of our slaves will bring them out for you-- we have our own wardrobe machines within, of course." (set: $Ballet to true) It's a promise kept in short order, although you're too far away from the door to truly observe from the slave anything more then a flash of blue and a scandalously short skirt. Your attendent returns soon after, holding up the boots for your observation. The heels are *staggering*, the design clearly intended to quite literally keep you on your toes. Matched to your laminate's color, they appear intended to rise to your mid-calf and are topped along the uppermost rim with a locking band that would prevent access to the lacing once put into place. Motionioning for you to sit down, she slides them onto your feet with the practiced hands only Torean experience could provide. "There we are." Afterward she leads you out of the line and towards the front door as you try to adapt to the strict footwear. Even standing still requires a demonstration of balance, while walking leaves you wobbly and teetering. The attendant pauses to give you some time to practice, and eventually you *do* manage to not embarrass yourself. At the door (if: $Brand is true)[you're halted once more, the attendant looking to you. "Normally you would be allowed in now, but we do need to address your suit as I said-- we can't have unregulated adverts, it looks... tacky."](else:)[the bouncer guarding it gives way, pushing open the door as your attendant waves you ahead. "We hope you enjoy your time at *Lush!*"] (if: $Brand is true)[[["So what is going to happen?"->BrandHold]]](else:)[[[Music pulses through you.->MeetCherish]]]

The attendant that had guided you this far flicks open a device, perhaps six inches long. Almost like a baton, one side glows with a violet light edging towards white. "We need to change your suit adverts," she explains. "As I mentioned. Lush has a reputation for maintaining a certain sort of class. If you're going to advertise anything, it's going to be *our* services. This device here is a mobile laminate printer, enough for our purposes. I'll just need you to spread your legs, and hold your arms out to the sides." As if expecting resistance to the idea, she tilts her head to the door. "Then you get to go inside." [[You need to get in. Take the position.->BrandHold2]]

The held finger descends, to be met immediately by a purr between your legs. Your hips twitch of their own accord, the laminate intruders installed there dancing to life. Still standing in line, you try to bite down on the moan that rises to your lips, but its a losing effort. It feels so *good*, even when emanating from the device up your ass. So good, in fact, a wave of disappointment rises when they suddenly cease working. "I see you like it," the attendent muses, with a knowing look. "Their activation is semi-randomized, and intended to tease. Most girls don't get an orgasm out of it... but you *will* be nice and wet. Now come on, let's head up to the front. You earned it." (set: $Plugs to true) At the door (if: $Brand is true)[you're halted once more, the attendant looking to you. "Normally you would be allowed in now, but we do need to address your suit as I said-- we can't have unregulated adverts, it looks... tacky."](else:)[the bouncer guarding it gives way, pushing open the door as your attendant waves you ahead. "We hope you enjoy your time at *Lush!*"] (if: $Brand is true)[[["So what is going to happen?"->BrandHold]]](else:)[[[Music pulses through you.->MeetCherish]]]

To your surprise, the first application brings a bit of a shock-- as if the skin beneath the laminate on your thigh that she had started at was being pricked by a pin. "Sorry about that," the attendant says, noticing your discomfort. "Probably should have mentioned that. Wardrobe technology is damn near perfect, but once it gets this small some sacrifices towards the experience are made. I promise it won't hurt *too* bad." It's more of an annoyance then proper pain, she's right about that. At least it goes quickly, the device being passed over each branded portion of your catsuit. Thighs, arms, chest, back-- by the end the suit itself remains the same, but the designs imprinted upon it have changed. And *designs* are perhaps the best descriptor. Instead of words, most of the alterations are variations on the same swirling logo, the same painted on the door before you. Only on your back and flanks are the words CLUB LUSH emblazoned boldly, the color a light purple to contrast sharply against the otherwise black hue of your suit. "See?" The attendant asks, snapping the handheld device back together. "Easy, right?" The bouncer opens the door as she waves you towards it. (set: $Ballet to true) "We hope you enjoy your time at *Lush!*" [[[Music pulses through you.->MeetCherish]]]

(if: $Blue is true)[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/lrEok9o.png" width="80%" height="80%">](if: $Smoke is true)[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/8RX7I7Y.png" width="80%" height="80%">](if: $Sec is true)[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/3WtScEa.jpg" width="80%" height="80%">](if: $Brand is true)[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/6CAE9v4.png" width="80%" height="80%">](if: $Slave is true)[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/oSp5K8p.png" width="80%" height="80%">] (if: $Blue is true)[The metallic blue of your suit meshes wonderfully with the purple ambience of the room, waves of light rolling across the curves so clearly on display. The black of your seven point restraints is thus wonderfully offset, glossy voids that glisten occasionally from the steel hardpoints intended to ease in your bondage. Perched on towering heels, your hands gloved, you're in laminate from neck to toe.](if: $Smoke is true)[The smokey semi-transparent coloration of your suit seems to drink in the violet ambience of the room, drawing further attention to the soft flesh you display so brazenly underneath. (if: $Pierced is true)[Your pierced nipples are certainly well demonstrated. ]The black of your upper body harness provides support as much as it emphasized your chest, while the belt at your waist-- and the steel hardpoints built into it-- make it clear the design was as utilitarian as it was stylish. Perched on towering heels, your hands gloved, you're in laminate from neck to toe.](if: $Sec is true)[The tight, business-like demeanor of your outfit is somehow lessened by the violet ambience of the room-- but the glossy stricture remains. It makes it impossible to forget that, despite your relative conservatism, you're still dressed from knee to throat in tight laminate. The skirt still grips your hips fiercly, limiting every step, while the blouse leaves little to the imagination. With each breath you draw in through cherry red lips, your (if: $Pierced is true)[pierced ]chest is on clear display.](if: $Brand is true)[The black of your catsuit drinks in the violet ambience of the room as readily as the similarly colored logos for the Club seem to glow in response to the light. The result is the very picture of classical Torean feminity, from the laminate catsuit that covers from throat to toe, to the tight corset ensuring your posture and silhouette are nothing less then stellar. Running your hands down your wide hips, you have to admit it's an experience like none other.](if: $Slave is true)[Amongst a sea of colors, you remain sealed in solid black. It's not a solitary experience, you had caught sight of a few other women condemned to the standardized slave suit, but as you stand before the mirror you realize you stand out like never else before. The collar around your throat suggests slavery, and the stricture of your mask and corset seem to ensure that-- who would ever *choose* such a fate, after all? Perched on towering heels, your hands gloved, your enclosure remains total. Perhaps it would have even taken your breath away, seeing yourself like this, had the mask not ensured your breathing already remained restricted.] (if: $Wet is true)[And of course there are the bands upon your thighs, their lewd message so very bright and clearly visible. If first impressions are only ever made once, it's clear the sort you'll be making won't be very dignified.] (if: $Plugs is true)[Hidden beneath it all is an additional burden as well, your plugs, thankfully sitting silent for the moment. It's to your shame that you catch yourself almost wishing they would spark to life.] (if: $Ballet is true)[Last of all, there are your ballet heels. Standing *en pointe*, you can easily observe how much they make your legs longer, how they flatter your body-- but all you can feel is the pain in your ankles and toes.] [[Wonderful.->MeetCherish2]] [[Terrifying.->MeetCherish2]] [[...intriguing.->MeetCherish2]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/YGvmxgB.png" width="40%" height="40%"> "**Breathtaking**, right?" It's only then, the words spoken over your shoulder, that you notice a woman had stepped up behind you. Turning to regard her, you she that is uniformed-- in tight laminate. Surrounded by the violet hues of the club, her servant's livery matches nicely in it's light shade of blue, being tight across her chest before expanding to a very short skirt. Just how short it is she demonstrates by lifting it for you while bowing. (if: $PlayE is true)[You recognize it from your time with Isabella as a very well practiced Torean reverence.](else:)[A Torean curtsy, of some sort, you reckon.] "I saw you observing yourself in the mirror," she explains, smoothing out her skirt and petticoats, "and I just had to say it, Mistress. You wear laminate well. Ah, but where are my manners? Allow me to welcome you to Club Lush, my name is Cherish. As a slave of this establishment, please allow me to service you in whatever manner you deem me capable of." Her collar is thin, pulled tight against her throat, fashionable-- and without an observable way for it to be removed. [["Services?"->CherishServices]]

"First time at Lush?" She winks. "No problem, Mistress. Let me run you through the various services we offer here, alright?" She steps more directly to your side, allowing her white gloved hand to be more easily followed as she uses it to direct your gaze. "Most of our guests start at the bar, which is fully stocked with a range of drinks-- both alcoholic and otherwise-- sourced from all over Torei, as well as a selection imported from the Offworlders. Or if you like, you may take a seat at a table or booth. Built into each is a button you can use to call the nearest available slave at your convenience, as well as to reward or punish us as you deem necessary." Just what *that* meant isn't clear, as Cherish turns you towards the mouth of a hallway that disappears into darkness-- a bright pink neon sign above shaped like a pillow. "We also provide several private rooms, outfitted with lounging areas and bed, rented by the hour. Many freewombs utilize them to solicit their betters, but for the right price you can also rent me-- or any of the other slaves in-uniform for the night, if you like." Another wink. "Restraints included, of course." Finally she casts her attention upward, to the second story balcony overlooking the stage. "And that would be our VIP area. Invitations are *quite* hard for most to come by, but if you do acquire one you need only speak with Charon at the elevator." She seems to mean the obsidian-skinned male standing with crossed arms before the door. [["Actually, I think I'm supposed to meet someone here."->Cherish3]]

"Ah, of course! If you would provide your identification card, I can check to see where your party is waiting? I just need to stop at the bar, I will be right back." Taking your card, Cherish moves just as indicated, allowing you to watch her go. Her swaying hips shift her skirt just *so*, revealing the triple hints of white that are her panties, petticoats, and garters. At her return, however, you sense an incoming problem. "Mistress," she begins, "the good news is that we did have your name on record. Your party is waiting in our VIP Suite #4... but they did not provide authorization for you to ascend, and have an outstanding do-not-disturb order." [["So I can't just go up?"->Cherish4]] [["What does that mean?"->Cherish4]]

"My apologies, Mistress, but we cannot allow a freewomb access to our VIP area without you being cleared by an existing VIP member, and as I said your party asked to not be disturbed. You could always wait to see if they emerge or rescind that order, however?" You have no idea how long that could take, and the Black Card had been quite clear: *dusk*. You don't have that sort of time. Perhaps your expression (if: $Slave is true)[despite your mask] gives that away, as Cherish speaks up again. "Alternatively..." she adjusts her glasses, Torean biomedical prowess meaning they *had* to just be for decoration. "...you could perhaps seek authorization from one of our VIP members still down here, in the common area?" She first indicates a woman seated primly at one of the private booths. Alone, she would have been obscured by the shadows there were it not for the bright holographic image displayed before her-- although you're too far away to make out what it depicted. "Mistress Tysus Sargon, of House Sargon. She is a scholar, as I understand it, but more importantly to your purposes a member of House Sargon-- one of the two ruling families of Aekora, and a VIP member. Or..." Cherish shifts your attention to a man at the bar, a rounded gas mask obscuring his features. "Master Petros. I am not certain if that is his first name, or last... he is *quite* mysterious. But he is a VIP member as well." [["Only the two options? Does no one else go upstairs?"->Cherish5]]

Cherish blinks. "Well no, no one else-- excepting uniformed slaves like myself, Mistress. We of course serve the VIP lounge just as readily as we do those on the floor down here. But that's not an option for you, of course." *Or is it? Glancing around, you notice occasional traffic in women dressed like Cherish from a side door near the stage. Sneaking in there would be the most dangerous option, of course, but perhaps a back path led upstairs-- or at the very least you could find a Wardrobe machine that could produce you a uniform like those the Club's slaves wore. Then you could simply pass right by that imposing looking bouncer...* [[Hmm...->Cherish6]]

Lost in momentary thought, you're startled out of it by a sudden jolt of movement from Cherish. Her cheeks flushed, the slave shifts her attention to look around at the tables nearby. "My apologies Mistress, but someone nearby just summoned me. I will need to service them, but I'm sure you need some time to consider your options?" She indicates the nearest table, one of the taller ones beneath the bright lights of the Club proper. At it's center is a small control console, with several prominent buttons. "If you need me again, please do not hesitate to utilize the call function every table has. Oh-- and a tab has been opened for you, if you run out of credits. Obviously, consider the unfortunate circumstances that can come with being a freewomb in debt, though." Again she lifts her skirt and bows, a farewell that she holds for a full step as she backs away-- and then makes her way towards one of the private booths along the wall. You move to the table Cherish had pointed out, leaning an elbow on the high top as you consider your options. [[Choices, choices...->LushHub]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/DZBI1bG.png" width="80%" height="80%"> All around you, Lush seethes with activity. Slaves, Masters, and everything in between, a heady cocktail you can barely process over the underlying thrum of pounding music and the hum of a hundred different private discussions. You have: (print: $debt) credits. [[Use the table's button to summon Cherish->CherishGreet]] (if: $BarGreet is false)[[[Approach the bar, as most guests seem to do.->BarGreet]]](if: $BarGreet is true)[[[Return to the bar.->BarHub]]] [[Press the button on your table to order a drink.->Order Drink]] (if: $SargonMeet is false)[[[Approach the scholar, Mistress Tysus Sargon.->SargonGreet]]](else:)[[[Return to Mistress Tysus Sargon, the Daemon researcher.->SargonHub]]] (if: $PetrosWarn is false and $PetrosTry is false)[[[Approach the mysterious Master Petros.->PetrosGreet]]](if: $PetrosWarn is true and $PetrosTry is false)[[[Approach the mysterious Master Petros.->Petros Warn2]]] [[Move closer to that side door, the one that led to the Club's backroom.->BackroomGreet]] [[Approach the staircase leading to the VIP area, and the bouncer there.->VIPGreet]]

It takes a few moments, but in response to your button press you soon notice Cherish breaking away from one of the private booths to approach your own table. Despite the tall platforms of her heels she moves through the crowds milling about Lush with a subtle amount of grace. Coming up alongside you, she bows her head in greeting. [["Hello Cherish."->CherishHub]]

Weaving through the tables and crowds, you approach the bar. A long countertop greets you, the bottom portion darker colored, the top itself translucent. Lacking stools or chairs of any sort, it's nevertheless busy-- it takes some time for the bartender to approach you. He's both male and uncollared, a bit of a surprise given your knowledge thus far of Torean culture-- service industries seemed reserved for slaves, and they were almost always women. Whatever the case may be, he seems quite comfortable with the work, pouring glasses with a dexterity that matches the jovial way he speaks with several nearby patrons. (set: $BarGreet to true) [[Wave him over.->BarHub]]

The control console built into your table has several buttons as well as a small screen. Choosing the option for *drinks* brings up a new menu, a staggering variety of options being presented. Given your memory, most are entirely foreign to you-- but you do get the vague sense that a few are from offworld. Lush clearly was well served, when it came to alcohol. (if: $Slave is true)[Unfortunately your breath regulating mask makes drinking impossible. While the thought of a cold beverage certainly appeals, especially given the stricture of your full enclosure, your outfit utterly denies you.](else:)[[[Try the stout, a drink you think is from offworld. (10 Credits)->TableStout]] [[One of them is called Lash. Try that. (15 Credits)->TableLash]] (if: $DrinkC is false)[[[Try the most expensive one. Daemon's Blood. (50 credits)->TableDaemon]]]] [[Turn away from the drink console.->LushHub]]

(set: $SargonMeet to true)Moving away from your table, you cross the crowded floor of the club, making for the far wall and the far more private booths arrayed along it. (if: $Wet is true)[With each step you cannot help but notice the occassional clubgoer staring overlong at your glossy thighs, the salacious words emblazoned upon them earning you a good bit of attention if little else.] (if: $Ballet is true)[Even across such a short distance the severity of your heels make themselves known, the carefully measured gait you had adopted somewhat upset by the crowd constantly milling around you.] (if: $Plugs is true)[Every step brings you closer to Tysus, but it also shifts the plugs buried between your legs. Given the way they're sealed inside you, reaching down to adjust the circumstances of your torture seems to be almost a worse fate then simply letting them be-- focusing instead on trying not to pant too noticably.] Soon enough your intended destination comes into view. [[Keep moving.->SargonGreet2]]

Since you had glimpsed him at the bar upon arrival, the mysterious Master Petros had moved. Searching Lush's ground floor you find him furthest from the stage, slowly swirling a half-empty shot glass while seated on a large, low-slung cyan couch. As you make your way towards him, however, a hand reaches out to grab your arm. (if: $DrinkB is true)[It's the woman you had met at the bar, Kell. Much like yourself, her pupils are still circled in a thin glowing line of violet.](else:)[She doesn't look particularly familiar, but you notice her pupils are ringed in a violet glow.] "Be careful with that one," she warns. "Very... strict, with freewombs. I wouldn't approach him unless you're really ready for it. Petros doesn't give second chances, and he expects absolute submission from women." [["Thanks for the warning."->PetrosGreet2]]

Picking your way across the crowded central floor, you eventually make your way to the stage, and then to the side of it. Here the tables thin out until ending altogether in a short expanse before a door very clearly labeled **LUSH STAFF ONLY**. The serving girl Cherish's mention of uniformed slaves like her being allowed free access to the VIP area had inspired you to approach, and you had indeed seen several of the powder-blue clad women make their way past the imposing bouncer at the VIP stairs. But attempting something like that would be at the very least quite frowned upon by the Club's staff if you were caught, and knowing Torei's laws regarding your gender would probably be blatantly illegal. Yet your conviction remains strong: you *must* find a way to reach that VIP suite, to make that deal that brought you to Torei in the first place. Either way, making an attempt would likely be committing fully to this plan and abandoning other potential opportunities. [[I want to consider my other options. Turn back for now.->LushHub]] [[You're set on doing this. Make for the door.->BR2]]

Crossing the Club's central floor, you make for the staircase underneath the VIP balcony above-- and its imposing guardian. Even from afar the man appears massive, a fact confirmed with every step that draws you closer to him. Undoubtedly somewhere far over six feet tall, his skin is a distinctive ebony, his outfit a stylish laminate evening coat with the sleeves rolled up to reveal heavy muscled arms underneath. Nevertheless his tone is soft as he holds out a hand, at your approach. "VIPs only, love. And while I don't mean to offend, I can usually tell who fits that bill." [["What's up there, in the VIP area?"->VIPAsk]] [["So are you a guard or something?"->VIPAsk2]] [["Can I become a VIP?"->VIPPay]] [["I need to get up there. Please. I'll do ANYTHING."->VIPAnything]] (if: $PetrosTry is true and $PetrosFail is false)[[["Actually, I was given permission from Master Petros."->VIPPetrosPass]]] [["Actually, I'm good for now." Step back.->LushHub]]

(append: ?SideBar)[\ (if: $showstatus is true)[Status: (if: $Status is 1)[(colour: #e61919)[FREEWOMB]](if: $Status is 2)[(colour: #e5e619)[SLAVE CODE]](if: $Status is 3)[(colour: #888)[SLAVE]](if: $Status is 4)[(colour: magenta)[DAEMON]](if: $Status is 5)[(color: orange)[TRUANT]](if: $Status is 6)[(color: navy)[TRUANT OFFICER]](if: $Status is 7)[(color: lime)[FREE]]] (if: $showcredits is true)[Credits: $debt] (if: $showgear is true)[[[Your Gear->Gear]]] [[Save Game->SavePage]] [[Restart/Load->RestartPage]] ]

(if: $Blue is true)[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/UD5UqLx.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> **Current Outfit:** Classic Metallic Blue Catsuit with 8-Point Restraints](if: $Smoke is true)[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/WEdo76r.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> **Current Outfit:** Classic Smoke Grey Catsuit and Harness](if: $Sec is true)[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/mEoSzB3.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> **Current Outfit:** Sexreterial Delight, Bodice and Pencil Skirt](if: $Brand is true)[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/vaDhUa4.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> **Current Outfit:** Branded Ballet Catsuit, with Ballet Heels](if: $Slave is true)[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/7hkuAc4.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> **Current Outfit:** Slave-Coded Enclosure Suit](if: $IsSlave is true)[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/7hkuAc4.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> **Current Outfit:** Slave-Coded Enclosure Suit](if: $Nun is true)[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/2UPfyWF.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> **Current Outfit:** Novitiate Regalia of the Order of the Primrose](if: $Servant is true)[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/YGvmxgB.png" width="30%" height="30%"> **Current Outfit:** Club Lush Servant Uniform] **Additional Modifications:** (if: $Level is 1 and $LevelFix is false)[-- Time-Released Hobble Chain](if: $Level is 2 and $LevelFix is false)[-- Time-Released Hobble Chain -- Time-Released Armbinder](if: $Level is 3 or 4 and $LevelFix is false)[-- Time-Released Hobble CHain -- Time-Released Armbinder -- Nipple Piercings] (if: $Pierced is true)[-- Pierced Nipples] (if: $CorSlave is true)[-- Thigh Bands, **WET** and **Slut**](if: $Nun is true)[-- Pierced Septum](if: $Servant is true)[-- Pierced Clitoris] (if: $Wet is true and $CorSlave is false)[-- Thigh Bands, **FUCK** and **TOY**] (if: $Ballet is true)[-- Ballet Heels] (if: $Slave is true or $IsSlave is true or $Plugs is true)[-- Vaginal and Anal Plugs]

Despite everything, for once Torei's nature doesn't overshadow an interaction. The bartender's greeting is much the same as it would be anywhere else in the galaxy. "What can I get ya, babe?" Mostly. [["A drink, I suppose?"->BarDrink]] [["This is my first time here, can I ask some questions?"->BarQ]] (if: $Rumor is 0)[[["Heard any rumors?"->BarRumor]]](if: $Rumor is > 0)[[["How about another rumor?"->BarRumor]]] [["Actually, I'm good." Head back to your table.->LushHub]]

(if: $Slave is true)["Sorry babe," he replies, in an easy going manner. You wouldn't be walking around freely in here with that oufit if you were a full slave, so you pass that test, but the simple fact is that your mask doesn't really seem to allow *drinking*, alright?" He shrugs. "Shame, too. I've got a drink that would really make your plugs fun."](else:)["Sure, sure," he replies. "I've got pretty much everything you could imagine, but let me suggest a few of the popular ones tonight? If you're looking for a taste of the galaxy beyond, we just got in a terrific stout. Thick and heavy. Or maybe a more local flair would be your thing? Grand Aekora is known for a little something we call *Lash*. Burns going down, much like a slave's backside after an engagement with a whip." (if: $DrinkB is false)[He smiles, then leans in over the bar. "But you look like a woman who likes to really have fun, am I right? (if: $DrinkC is true)[Kamn right I am, I can-- quite literally-- see it in your eyes.] Well in that case, I do have one other option... something you won't find outside of Torei. We call it *Daemon Blood.* Gotta try it to believe it, ain't that right, Kell?" He had turned towards another woman at your side, an empty shot glass held in her hand. Her lips are parted, her eyelids low, sultry and inviting. And her eyes, pupils naturally brown, are ringed by violet. She smiles.] [["I'll try the stout." (10 Credits)->BarStout]] [["I'll try the Lash, I suppose." (15 Credits)->BarLash]] (if: $DrinkB is false)[[["I want the Daemon's Blood." (50 credits)->BarDaemon]]]] [["Let's talk about something else."->BarHub]]

The bartender points your way. "Hit me any question you might have." [["Tell me about Lush."->AskBar]] [["Tell me about yourself."->AskTender]] [["Can you tell me anything about Mistress Tysus Sargon?"->AskTysus]] [["Can you tell me anything about Master Petros?"->AskPetros]] [["You wouldn't know of any way up into the VIP area, would you?"->AskVIP]] [["That's all the questions I have, actually."->BarHub]]

(set: $Rumor to it + 1)(if: $Rumor is 1)["Been awhile since we had some rain. I half expect the AIs to just stop the water one day. Divine punishment, you know?"](if: $Rumor is 2)["If you stick around here long enough, you're bound to catch some freewomb getting hauled out of here by a Truant Officer. It's a hard life your kind live. Almost makes a collar sound better, doesn't it?"](if: $Rumor is 3)["Ever been to that Convent in the city's outskirts? The nuns there are all slaves. Quite the sight, and they even accept new members if you make the right moves, I hear."](if: $Rumor is 4)["The Prime Markets are the center of Aekora's economy, probably the largest slave auctions on the planet. If you're ever looking to buy a girl, they have all sorts there."](if: $Rumor is 5)["Freewomb like you should be keeping an eye out for Truant Officers. Not that you have anything to fear if you've watched your credits and don't do anything wrong, but girls like you don't want to be arrested by them.](if: $Rumor is 6)["Did you know this ringdom has over thirty different legal codes for slaves? Sounds like a bit much, if you ask me."](if: $Rumor is 7)["You didn't hear it from me, but this club's owner works the bar on occasion."](if: $Rumor is 8)["Had a crazy woman in here, a few hours ago. Was waiting for a storm to approach, apparently likes to go out into them. At least she was prepared with two masks."](if: $Rumor is 9)["Ballet heels are always in fashion. Doesn't make them easy to walk in.(if: $Ballet is true)[ You seem to be doing pretty good in yours, though.]"](if: $Rumor is 10)["(if: $Wet is true)[Do you like wearing those bands on your thighs, saying what they do? ]We do an event every month with all sorts of fun things like that. If you're in the neighborhood, I definitely recommend checking it out."](if: $Rumor is 11)["Have you met Petros? Secretive fellow. I've heard he is a Master Lancer with the Ministry of Improvements, however."](if: $Rumor is > 11)["That's... all I got. You're really thorough, aren't you?"] [["Interesting."->BarHub]]

He pours you a glass from tap, the drink as dark and thick as promised. Taking a sip, you lean an elbow against the bar, enjoying your taste of the galaxy beyond Torei. It's a reminder that something else did exist beyond the laminate and bondage, the slavery and inequality that reigned throughout the planet. But is that galaxy amongst the stars what you even desire anymore? (set: $debt to it - 10) [[It is. Finish your drink.->BarHub]] [[You are no longer sure.->BarHub]] [[No. Leave the drink unfinished.->BarHub]]

"Now that's a drink for a Torean girl," the bartender exclaims, retreating to the shelf behind him. He returns with a pure black bottle, pouring you a small amount. The drink is clear, but even a whiff seems to tickle your senses. Strong stuff indeed. Nevertheless you throw it back, the *Lash* burning as it makes its way down your throat. (set: $debt to it - 15) "I wouldn't do too many of those," the bartender advises, retaking your glass. "A freewomb like you could get in trouble, taking too many Lashes, if you know what I mean." [["Thanks."->BarHub]] [["I like trouble."->BarLash2]]

The bartender's easy going smile widens. "Now *that* is a good choice." (set: $debt to it - 50) He moves to the shelves behind him, reaching up to take a small bottle from the top shelf. As he unscrews the top, you notice the bottle's neck has a small decorative collar around it. A shot glass is then filled, the liquid a pure, almost oily black. (set: $DrinkB to true) [[Drink it.->BarDaemonDrink]] [["What... is this exactly?"->BarDaemonHes]]

He laughs a bit. "I bet you do.(if: $Wet is true)[ Could tell that from those bands on your thighs.](if: $Ballet is true)[ Only reason someone goes with ballet boots(if: $Wet is true)[ too], ain't that right?]" [[He looks to you again.->BarHub]]

The shot glass is small, making it a single swallow. It's not even half bad, a bit... slimey, but strangely devoid of flavor. Unlike most alcohol, it doesn't even burn going down. The bartender leans forward slightly. "Feeling it yet?" (link-reveal: "Not at all, actually.")[[[ "Mmmmhh..."->BarDaemonDrink2]]] (link-reveal: "I don't feel a thing.")[[[ "Mmmmhh..."->BarDaemonDrink2]]]

"It's not *actually* the blood of a Daemon," he says, holding a straight face for a long moment. The smile comes eventually however, two fingers held out to indicate the shot glass. "But it is a gift from our friends at the poles. One must wonder what they use the stuff for, hmm?" He nudges the glass, expectantly. [[Drink it.->BarDaemonDrink]]

Whatever you had intended comes out as a wanton moan, the surprise of it shocking you-- although the bartender at your side seems to have anticipated it. "I wouldn't recommend walking for a few minutes," he advises, the reason why becoming apparent as the Daemon's Blood makes itself felt. Your every nerve seems to momentarily spike, goosebumps emerging across your skin, before the sensation pulls back-- only remaining strong at certain erogenous points. Your lips, your breasts, the space between your legs. It's like small fires had been lit there, burning with a sudden, fierce desire. You cross your legs, laminated thighs rubbing together. (if: $Wet is true)[The bright words on your thigh bands suddenly announce a very clear truth, your cunt wet and hungry.] (if: $Ballet is true)[As the bartender had warned, walking does suddenly seem out of reach-- merely standing in your ballet heels proves nearly impossible, your thighs rubbing greedily together as best they can.] (if: $Plugs is true)[Worst of all, you can feel your womanhood aching, the plugs installed between your legs having already worked you into a sensual heat. The urge to run your hand down, to masturbate as best you could, is nearly impossible to ignore.] At your side, the woman named Kell looks to you. Her lidded eyes are still ringed in violet, her lips pulled into a languid smile. "Your eyes..." The reflection of the bar reveals your own pupils circled in violet. [[Try to clear your head.->BarDaemonTempt1]] [[Take a deep breath, really let it run through you.->BarDaemonGo]]

"The first hit is the strongest," the bartender chuckles as you close your eyes, trying to regain your self control. "It will pass shortly." At your side, however, Kell leans in. You crack an eye, only to see what she is doing, but you cannot help but notice the way her cerulean catsuit gleams wonderfully, pulled tight across her chest and waist. "It's not nearly as fun if you resist it..." [[Close your eyes. Focus.->BarDaemonPass]] [[Let it take you.->BarDaemonGo]]

You let go, your body almost acting of its own accord. Turning to Kell, who seems to brighten, recognizing your intent, you embrace. Glossy laminate glides across your arms and legs as you entwine, breast-to breast. Looking into her eyes, the Daemon's Blood in her eyes, you hardly notice several onlookers nearby watching. [[Kiss her.->BarDaemonGo2]] (link-reveal: "This was a mistake. Pull back.")[[[ It's too late for that.->BarDaemonGo2]]]

"The fun little violet in your eyes will last a few hours," the bartender explains, as you try to calm your body down. It's surprisingly difficult(if: $Plugs is true)[ ,your plugs undoubtedly not helping]. "Everything else will pass pretty quickly. Hell of a drink though, huh?" When you finally do manage something approaching self control, you open your eyes, revealing Kell to be absent and the bartender reaching over to take your shot glass back. (if: $Sec is true)[Only belatedly do you reach down, pulling your skirt back down.](if: $Slave is true or $Brand is true)[You take one last deep breath, your corset making it a bit of an effort.](if: $Blue is true or $Smoke is true)[You take one last deep breath, the laminate of your catsuit pulling all the tighter across your chest.] [[Whew.->BarHub]]

(if: $Slave is true)[Your mask prevents a proper kiss, but the compelling desire to find her lips proves to much. For her part Kell seems happy to oblige, her full painted lips pressing softly against the smooth laminate of your mask.](else:)[Her full lips meet yours eagerly, the kiss going long as her tongue enters your mouth, any desire to resist the sensations utterly absent.] Further down your hips seem to shift of your own accord, (if: $Sec is true)[a hand hiking up your skirt ]as you press your womanhood into her thigh(if: $Plugs is true)[, driving your plugs deeper into your cunt.] Grinding into her, you both arch your backs in unison, pressing your breasts forward as the ecstasy builds. (if: $Ballet is true)[It takes all your dexterity to hold the pose, given your troublesome ballet heels.] [["Mmmmgh..."->BarDaemonGo3]]

Somewhere, seemingly far away, the bartender intervenes. "Now, girls-- I would remiss if I did not make it clear that going much further would require a private room..." The kiss is broken as Kell pulls back, looking at you curiously. [["Give me the room."->BarDaemonGo4]] [["We... we should end here."->BarDaemonGo4]]

Kell regards you for a moment, her violet-encircled gaze still so entrancing, but in the end she pulls back-- breaking your embrace. "Better not," she concludes, tone still sultry. Looking you over, she gives an impish shrug. "You're fun, but I came her to make some credits tonight. Won't make anything running Blood with another freewomb, sweet as she is." (if: $Wet is true and $CorSlave is true)[She winks, nodding at your thigh bands. "Even if she is a *Wet Slut.*"](if: $Wet is true and $CorSlave is false)[She winks, nodding at your thigh bands. "Even if she is a *Fuck Toy.*"] [["I'll pay!"->BarDaemonGo5]] [[Close your eyes, try to focus.->BarDaemonPass]]

Kell pays for her drink, then backs away from the bar. "Not enough, hun." She disappears quickly into the surrounding crowds. [[Take a deep breath, close your eyes, focus.->BarDaemonPass]]

"My favorite topic," he grins, spreading his arms wide. "Lush is *the* premiere night club in the Ringdom, deep in the heart of our capital, Grand Aekora. We're close enough to the Way Up, and the tram that runs directly there from here, to be easily reached by tourists-- but far enough away for them to get a proper taste of Torean culture. Yet we're popular with the Torean-born as well, including the local nobility. Both Naram-Sin and Sargon are frequent visitors." He certainly does a good job of selling the establishment's features. [["Very interesting."->BarQ]] [["Are all the staff enslaved?"->AskBar2]]

"Myself?" He looks down, as if noticing his own presence for the first time. "I fear there is not much to tell. Hmm... I suppose I can say that I do enjoy bartending, even if I do not get to do so regularly. Obligations being what they are." [["I see."->BarQ]]

"Ahh," the bartender muses, looking towards the nook where the Mistress in question remained seated. "A member of House Sargon, as the name would suggest. Our Ringdom is ruled by a Diarchy, one each from the Sargons and Naram-Sin. But that one is a scholar, not a politican. Quite sharp, or so I've heard. Although her area of study is known for being particularly difficult." He leans in over the table, the light emanating from the bar itself momentarily casting his eyes in shadow. "Daemons. Emissaries from the ancient AIs at the poles. Makes me wonder just what she's doing *here*, though. Lush isn't exactly a quiet place of study." [["Interesting."->BarQ]]

"An enigma, by all accounts," the bartender replies, a hand on his chin as if in thought. "But quite wealthy. Hmm... and I suppose I can tell you that he is quite the traditionalist. If you were to seek his favor, as a freewomb, I would recommend approaching him with as much grace and submission as you can muster. I have noticed he rarely gives time to any girl not already in a collar." [["Something to keep in mind.->BarQ]]

"Of course," he replies readily. "Or at least that applies to the female staff within the building itself. You may have noticed our building is quite large? The back quarter is their living quarters. And we have of course acquired them from Grand Aekora's own slave markets, their service here demonstrating in turn the value that can be found at this Ringdom's Prime Markets." [["Lucky girls."->BarQ]] [["I see."->BarQ]] [["Those poor girls."->BarQ]]

He glances up, at the balcony looming above. "Well of course I do. Purchase a VIP membership, or be invited by a VIP member. But... I suspect neither course is open to you? Well-- in that case I'm afraid I cannot be of much help. Lush makes a point of maintaining the exclusivity and privacy of our VIP area, and we cannot make exceptions." [["I understand."->BarQ]] [["How much is a VIP membership?"->AskVIPCost]] [["Cherish, one of the slaves here, picked up a message left for me by a VIP member earlier. Can you tell me anything more about that, at least?"->AskVIP2]]

"Ah, yes. You are the one with the message from Suite #4? A strange situation, I must admit. One of our VIP members rented the Suite just before you arrived." [["I see, can I ask another question?"->BarQ]] [["Strange? What makes that strange?"->AskVIPEmpty]] [["Who made the reservation?"->AskVIPWho]]

"Well, its just that are suites are for... particular activities. One generally requiring a partner, or three." He winks. "But our VIP member arrived only with a rather large suitcase. Thus the strangeness. We are not a hotel, and he is a local-- I don't see any traveling in the cards." [["I see, can I ask another question?"->BarQ]] [["Who made the reservation?"->AskVIPWho]]

"That... I am not at liberty to say." The bartender shrugs. "But given the slight strangeness of the circumstances, I can at least tell you that he is a regular member in good standing with Lush. If I see him come down into the lower area of the Club, I will of course have one of the serving girls tell him of your being here." [["I see, can I ask another question?"->BarQ]] [["What's so strange about it?"->AskVIPEmpty]]

"Yearly memberships are most common, but I get the sense that you are looking for something far more temporary? The cost for a daily access pass is 500 credits." He looks to you, a bit apologetic. "For free males, that is. I'm sure you understand that given the rarity of my gender, and our usual wealth, concessions are made to their pleasure. As a freewomb, access to our privileged areas would cost you 700 credits." He points across the floor of Lush, to the ebon-skinned man near the stairs. "Talk to Charon if you would like to buy a pass, or one of our current VIP members grants you access. [["I understand."->BarQ]] [["Cherish, one of the slaves here, picked up a message left for me by a VIP member earlier. Can you tell me anything more about that, at least?"->AskVIP2]]

Only a few minutes pass between your confirmation of the order, and the approach of Cherish, a small tray holding your drink in her hand. Coming up alongside your table, she sets the Daemon's Blood before you with a smile. It's a shot glass, the liquid inside oily, and pure black. (set: $debt to it - 50) Holding the tray to her chest, Cherish curtsies smartly. "As requested, Mistress. Your account has been charged fifteen credits. (if: $DrinkB is true)[Judging by your eyes, I see you have already experienced Daemon's Blood. Good, I will not provide the disclaimer. You know *exactly* what you're getting into.](if: $DrinkB is false)[Although I must warn you, Mistress, regarding this particular drink. It has effects both immediate and long lasting.]" [[Drink it.->TableDaemon2]] (if: $DrinkB is false)[[["What sort of effects?"->TableDaemonAsk]]]

The stout is perhaps best described as *thick*, as if you were eating liquified bread. As such it's quite filling, the taste lingering on your tongue as you eventually finish. Given the size of the glass, you're thankful your lipstick was quite impermeable. Cherish reaches in to retrieve your glass as you notice the console in your table lighting up. Two options are made available. [[Option 1: Reward for good service.->TableReward]] [[Option 2: Punish for poor service.->TablePunish]] [[Choose neither, and let Cherish leave.->LushHub]]

You select the reward option, and are immediately greeted with a slight hum emanating from somewhere beneath Cherish's skirt. Her brows upturn in response, a hand moving to shift her glasses back up on her nose as she clearly fights a desire to reach down between her legs. "I am glad you are pleased, Mistress," the slave all but purrs, collecting herself as the hum ceases. "Was there any other service I could provide at this time?" [["No, slave. Leave me."->TableRewardMean]] [["No, you've been a good girl. You may leave."->TableRewardGood]] [["Is your cunt plugged, Cherish?"->TableRewardAsk]]

You select the punish option, and are immediately rewarded by Cherish going ramrod straight. A whimper slips from between her lips as she looks down, trying very hard not to make a scene. Whatever you had inflicted upon her passes soon enough, however, and she is quickly apologetic. "I am most ashamed you were not pleased with my service, Mistress. Please, is there anything I can do to make it up to you?" [["Be quicker next time, Slave. Now leave me."->TableRewardMean]] [["What did I just do to you?"->TablePunishAsk]] [["Come closer."->TablePunishCloser]]

Living up to its name, the Lash is quick and sharp, snapping down your throat as you drink it down. The burn that follows indicates a heady amount of alcohol within. You're not sure if your desire for more is a result of the alcohol, or the pain. Cherish reaches in to retrieve your glass as you notice the console in your table lighting up. Two options are made available. [[Option 1: Reward for good service.->TableReward]] [[Option 2: Punish for poor service.->TablePunish]] [[Choose neither, and let Cherish leave.->LushHub]]

Your sharp tone serves its purpose, and Cherish is quick to retreat, taking her tray and your glass with her. Meanwhile you lean back, looking about Lush for your next move. [[Still, the drink was good.->LushHub]]

With the tray and your glass held in one hand, Cherish performs a half-reverence, using her free hand to lift the front of her skirt for your observence. The panties beneath are bright white. "Thank you, Mistress. I will leave you to your considerations. But please, if you need anything else, do not hesitate to call me." [[You watch her go, considering your next move.->LushHub]]

Only on Torei could you find a slave like Cherish who responds without hesitation. "I am not, Mistress. But I have been fitted with a clit piercing, as all slaves at Lush are. It has functions allowing for both reward and punishment, as you have seen." With the tray and your glass held in one hand, Cherish performs a half-reverence, using her free hand to lift the front of her skirt for your observence. The panties beneath are bright white. "Now, thank you, Mistress. I will leave you to your considerations. But please, if you need anything else, do not hesitate to call me." [[You watch her go, considering your next move.->LushHub]]

Her brows are still upturned, indicating her discomfort, but the slave does answer immediately. "A shock to my clit, Mistress. As correction... for whatever it is you deemed me to be lacking in. All of Lush's slaves are fitted with piercings that provide such functionality. Your pleasure is important to us. Was there... anything else I could do for you?" [["Be quicker next time, Slave. Now leave me."->TableRewardMean]] [["Come closer."->TablePunishCloser]]

Cherish steps closer, looking a bit concerned. Her powder blue uniform remains just as tight and glossy as when you first saw it, upon entering. [[Slap her ass, then let her go.->TablePunishSlap]] [[Feel her chest, then let her go.->TablePunishGrop]]

Her skirt barely provides coverage for her rear, allowing you to easily slap it sharply. She moans softly, but keeps her hands collected before her, holding tray and glass steady as she looks for leave to go. Once given Cherish is quick to retreat, the pale flesh of her rear cheek visibly reddened. Meanwhile you lean back, looking about Lush for your next move. [[Still, the drink was good.->LushHub]]

Reaching up you find her pert breasts, the laminate pulled tight across them warm to the touch. Quickly you notice she's pierced at each nipple, the half-rings embedded in each clearly distinct to your touch. Instead of resisting in any way to your groping, she remains still-- holding her tray and your used glass. It's a testament to her training that she waits until you release her, looking for leave that you soon give her. Only then does Cherish retreat. Meanwhile you lean back, looking about Lush for your next move. [[Still, the drink was good.->LushHub]]

The shot glass is small, making it a single swallow. It's not even half bad, a bit... slimey, but strangely devoid of flavor. Unlike most alcohol, it doesn't even burn going down. (set: $DrinkC to true) (if: $DrinkB is true)[Given this is your second time running Blood, you know it takes a moment.](if: $DrinkB is false)[For a long moment, you're rather certain that's all their is. A disappointment.] Then it hits you like a starship-- a wave of sensation that runs down your body, pricking every nerve. Most of it recedes, but it lingers quite forcibly at your points of sensuality: lips, breasts, womanhood. Passion and desire erupt immediately. As you fight to keep your hand from drifting down, to press against your suddenly aching cunt, your thighs move of their own accord. Rubbing together(if: $Plugs is true)[, your plugs shift hungrily, your womanhood wet](if: $Ballet is true)[, while your ballet heels make it difficult to stand]. (if: $Wet is true)[The words emblazoned upon your thighs are suddenly very true.] At your side, Cherish gets your attention only after several attempts. "Do you require assistance, Mistress? There would of course be a small charge. Ten credits." (link-reveal: "No...")[[[ "YES."->TableDaemon3]]] [["YES."->TableDaemon3]]

Cherish's smile remains. "For the first few moments, you will find your sexuality greatly enhanced. That effect will linger for several hours after, in a lesser magnitude, alongside a very distinct violet ring that forms around the eye." [["On second thought... I'll pass."->TableDaemonPass]] [[Drink it->TableDaemon2]]

"I see," Cherish replies. "Given that we have already provided your drink, a refund would not be provided... it was 50 credits, which is quite substantial." She rocks on her heels for a moment, bangs shifting as she tilts her head. "I cannot speak from experience, we slaves are obviously not provided with such rare drinks, but from everything I've observed Daemon's Blood is very popular. Especially with freewombs, such as yourself, Mistress." [[Doesn't matter. Send her away.->LushHub]] [[Drink it.->TableDaemon2]]

The substance coursing through your veins doesn't give you a choice, as you eagerly agree to Cherish's promised assistance. With a knowing smile, the slave steps forward, her skirt brushing your hip as she pulls you close. (set: $debt to it - 10) Immediately you move to kiss her, but she holds a finger to your lips, halting you. "Close your eyes," despite the loud music of the Club, and the crowds moving all around you, her voice is almost a whisper. When you comply, she shifts her hand from your lips, down to the meeting of your thighs. (if: $Sec is true)[She lifts your skirt in a single smooth motion to gain access, apparently well practiced given her own.] "(if: $Plugs is true)[I see you are plugged," she notes, kneading the laminate holding them in place softly.](if: $Plugs is false)[No plugs," she notes, gently kneading the laminate between your legs. Regardless,] I bet it feels good, doesn't it?" (link-reveal: "S-Stop it...")[[[ Moan like a whore.->TableDaemon4]]] (link-reveal: "Y-Yes...")[[[ Moan like a whore.->TableDaemon4]]] [[Moan like a whore.->TableDaemon4]]

You moan wantonly in response, to which Cherish responds with a giggle. "Oh, I can just *imagine.* The initial response is almost over, however." She presses more closely to you, still gently pressing her fingers between your legs. As your eyes flutter back open, you can see that she is smiling. (if: $DrinkB is true)["The violet in your eyes is even brighter now."](if: $DrinkB is false)["Your eyes... the pupils are ringed in violet, now."] It seems to have been what she was waiting for, as Cherish pulls her white-gloved hand from you. To your shame, your hips follow, trying to further the contact, but Cherish remains firm. "Now, I need you to take a deep breath. Nice and slow. Focus." [[Focus.->TableDaemon5]] [["Please... help me cum."->TableDaemonCM]]

A return to something like the calmness you had felt before returns, with a rather great deal of effort on your part. Yet it does come, and with it Cherish steps back, providing you with a curtsy as she retreats with tray and glass. By the time you realize the control display on your table had been providing some manner of responsive actions, she is apparently out of range. (if: $Sec is true)[Only belatedly do you reach down, pulling your skirt back down.](if: $Slave is true or $Brand is true)[You take one last deep breath, your corset making it a bit of an effort.](if: $Blue is true or $Smoke is true)[You take one last deep breath, the laminate of your catsuit pulling all the tighter across your chest.] [[Whew.->LushHub]]

"That..." Cherish replies, with a hint of sadness, "I cannot do. Not as a slave. And you don't need it, not if you breathe. Focus." Begging a slave to cum in a public Club wasn't particularly well considered, after all. [[Focus.->TableDaemon5]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/YGvmxgB.png" width="40%" height="40%"> (if: $CherishT is < -1)[Cherish smiles,](if: $CherishT is < 0)[Cherish looks to you a bit sharply,] the blue of her uniform gleaming with every shift in the neon lights that combine to produce the ambient glow that is *Lush.* "What else can I do for you, Mistress?" [["I'm just trying to figure out how to get into the VIP area."->CherishVIP]] [["I actually wanted to know about you."->CherishQ]] (if: $Cherish is < 1)[[["You mentioned a private service, of some sort?"->CherishPriv]]](else:)[[["Hello again... I was wondering what you thought of our private session?->CherishPPP]]] [["That's all, actually." Dismiss her.->LushHub]]

Cherish's smile grows a bit strained. You get the sense she doesn't like being in a position where she has to tell someone 'no'. "I must admit that I cannot give any further assistance on that topic then I already have. My Master is very keen on maintaining the exclusivity of the place, I hope you understand?" [["I do."->CherishHub]] [["I suppose..."->CherishHub]]

"Questions? About me?" She seems slightly taken aback by the suggestion. "Very few patrons worry themselves with such things, Mistress. Are you sure you would not like to discuss something else?" [["I want to ask a few questions."->CherishQQ]] [["You're right, nevermind."->CherishHub]]

"Ah, yes," Cherish nods, then is forced to reach up, adjusting her red-rimmed glasses afterward. "Here at Lush, we strive to satisfy your every desire-- even when that comes to my own body, Mistress." Holding her hands out a bit further to her sides, as if to give you a better view of the slick uniform coating her, she smiles. "Many of her frequent patrons negotiate customized experiences beforehand, but we do offer a standard encounter. For 500 credits, I would be placed at your mercy for one hour." The way she shifts her hips, exposing the hint of white panties beneath her skirt, must be intentional. [["I'll do it, for 500 credits."->CherishPriv2]] [["A bit rich for my blood. Nevermind."->CherishHub]] [["No, I don't want that at all."->CherishHub]]

"Well... I will answer your questions, if it pleases you, Mistress." [["Are you an offworlder, originally? Or Torean-born?"->CherishQOff]] [["How were you enslaved?"->CherishQSlave]] [["Do you like working here?"->CherishQLike]] [["What do you know of Torei outside of Lush?"->CherishQLush]] [["Did you want to ask me any questions?"->CherishQSelf]] [["Actually, that's all the questions I have for now."->CherishHub]]

Cherish perks up, the question being an easy one. "Oh, I'm Torean born. Aekoran by birth too, actually. Grew up on one of the sharecropping estates in the countryside." She adjusts her glasses. "Obviously I wasn't from the family that owned the estate itself. Most of them are Sargon or Naram-Sin owned, of course." [["Of course."->CherishQQ]]

She flushes a bit. "It's not a particularly interesting tale, Mistress. Are you sure you want to inquire about this?" [[Press her. "Yes, Cherish."->CherishQSlave2]] [[Let her be. "Actually, let me ask about something else."->CherishQQ]]

"Of course." The answer is provided without a hint of hesitation. "It pleases my Master to work the floor of Lush daily, and I would do *anything* for the pleasure of my Master." It's hard to tell if she genuinely felt that, or if she simply feared the consequences of admitting anything else. Torean treatment of slaves could be quite strict indeed. [[If she's lying, she's quite good at it. Ask about something else.->CherishQQ]]

She shifts her head back and forth, her straight bangs flicking with each movement. "Not as much as you would like, I think. I've never actually been beyond the borders of Aekora. Before I was collared, I had intended to travel all over the planet. Now... now I have different priorities." [["I see."->CherishQQ]]

"Ask *you* a question?" Her brows rise, your suggestion clearly unexpected. Yet she doesn't dismiss it out of hand, but chews on the idea, even warming to it. "When you gave me your ID, when you first entered, I saw that you're an offworlder. Can... can I ask what it's like, Mistress? Beyond the Way Up, out there?" She gestures towards the ceiling, but you sense she meant places far further then that-- other planets. The galaxy at large. [["It's massive, Cherish. Thousands of worlds, far too many and too wonderous to describe..."->CherishBig]] [["It's far better then Torei. There is no slavery, sexualty does not run rampant..."->CherishGood]] [["It's different, but not necessarily better. Torei is something special."->CherishNeutral]] [["It's terrible, Cherish. Only here can we earn collars, serve our betters..."->CherishBad]]

"...alright," she allows, sighing. "As I said, it's not particularly interesting or important. I grew up in the countryside, but made for Grand Aekora as soon as I hit majority. Wanted to live in the big city, as a freewomb-- but the vids I grew up with didn't really make it clear just how hard that could be. I made it about a year, but when things came down to charges against me from the Ministry of Truants, or a collar..." The band at her throat gleams brightly. [["I understand now."->CherishQQ]]

Cherish listens, wide-eyed. If nothing else, you've certainly captured her imagination. "It sounds wonderful," she replies, glancing up-- as if capable of piercing the ceiling, to glimpse the stars beyond. "I wish I could see it, someday." A pristine white glove brushes against her collar. An unlikely dream. [["I have other questions."->CherishQQ]]

"I have trouble imagining it," Cherish replies, in tones of quiet reverence. "Even growing up in poverty, our Estate Master had farm slaves that we used on a daily basis... but worlds where no one is collared? How does anything get done?" Her gloved hands splay, suddenly defensive. "Not that I meant anything by that, Mistress!" [["No harm done. But I do have other questions."->CherishQQ]] [["Watch yourself, slave. Now answer my other questions."->CherishQQ]]

"That's how I always understood it," Cherish replies, nodding along with your words. "We always get the occasional tourist shocked to see so many Toreans in a collar, but it's just *different*. We have our own culture here, just as ancient as any of yours." She seems strangely proud of it, given that culture had put her in a collar, and forced her into a uniform as tight and slutty as she wore. [["Agreed. Now, I have other questions?"->CherishQQ]]

Your zeal for slavery and subservience are well demonstrated, although Cherish's pursed lips suggest she was biting down on giving you a taste of her mind. Given her slavery, that was probably a well-honed survival instict. She finally settles on a response with a bit of a smile. "You certainly are growing well-accustomed to how things work here, as an offworlder. If a collar is what you seek, I'm sure you will make a Master or Mistress very happy some day." [["Indeed..."->CherishQQ]]

(set: $debt to it - 500)"As you wish," Cherish responds. (if: $debt is < 0)["I see this transaction will take you into a negative account balance. I would recommend being careful, while we allow such circumstances to persist, Truant Officers rarely approve of such recklessness."] She lifts the front of her skirt, bowing to you. "You need only wait here, Mistress, to await my preparation for your use. Another servant will be along shortly to escort you to the private room that will be at your disposal for the coming hour." Moving away from you, Cherish stops at the bar, speaking with the bartender before making for the hallway marked with the neon pillow. As promised, it's not long after before another uniformed slave approaches you. She presents you with a key. "Room 12, Mistress. She's waiting for you." [[Make your way there.->CherishPriv3]]

Making your way to the pillow-marked corridor, you enter into a dimly lit hallway, the neon numbers above each door the only guide as you step forward. From several of the other doors you hear the sounds of revelry, be it music, conversation, or acts of sensuality. And indeed, it was the promise of that last one that eventually brings you to stand before Door 12. Reaching down, you press your keycard against the attendant pad, and it opens... [[Step inside.->CherishPriv4]]

The room is dim, sensual. A bed is against the far wall, as well as a couple other pieces of furniture, but your attention focuses immediately on the woman bound directly before you-- the sconce above her providing a spotlight. Cherish, still in her uniform, locked at wrist and ankle to an X-shaped frame. She's spread-eagle, defenseless, a baby blue ball firmly locked between her teeth. Meeting your gaze, she smiles despite the gag, wriggling a bit in her restraints before looking down and to the side. Next to her sits a small folding tray, displaying a handful of useful implements. The slave is yours alone to play with. [[Take stock.->CherishPrivHub]]

The girl's eyes twinkle. "We make every effort to ensure our guests enjoy their stay. Premature ending of bondage, self-imposed or otherwise, thus requires a small fee. We would hate for you to regret the loss of pleasure such an early end could induce, after all." Again she looks at the countdown, smiling. "Forty five hours is quite ambitious for an offworlder, ma'am. And you still have twelve hours remaining. //Lucky...//" [[Fine, lift your chin as required.->Lift Chin]]

Before you, Cherish is bound and wrist and ankle-- helpless. A bit of drool runs down her gag as she looks to you, wondering what comes next. To her side stands the small tray, wand, baton, dildo, and whip at the ready. A full Torean arsenal. (if: $CherishT is < 0)[Your choices seem to be having an effect on the slave, you notice. Her eyes have narrowed(if: $CherishT is < -2)[, her chest rising and falling](if: $CherishT is < -4)[, her teeth bared against her gag].](if: $CherishT is > 0)[Your choices seem to be having an effect on the slave, you notice. She looks to you expectantly(if: $CherishT is > 2)[, her chest thrust out for you](if: $CherishT is > 4)[, smiling through her gag].] You have (if: $Cherish is 0)[the full hour left with her.](if: $Cherish is 1)[50 minutes left with her.](if: $Cherish is 2)[40 minutes left with her.](if: $Cherish is 3)[30 minutes left with her.](if: $Cherish is 4)[20 minutes left with her.](if: $Cherish is 5)[10 minutes left with her.](if: $Cherish is 6)[0 minutes left with her.] (if: $Cherish is < 6)[[[Explore her body at your leisure.->CExplore]] [[Adjust her bindings.->CAdjust]] [[Speak to her. She's a captive audience after all.->CDil]] [[Press your hand between her legs.->CTouch]] [[Press your cunt against her.->CCun]] [[Use the vibrating wand on her.->CVibe]] [[Use the shock baton on her.->CShock]] [[Play with her nipples.->CNip]] [[Use the whip on her.->CWhip]] [[Take a break. Let her be for a bit.->CSkip]]](else:)[[[A knock at the door announces your time is up.->CherishPrivEnd]]]

Approaching slowly, you notice Cherish watching you closely. When your hand finds her waist, just above where the tight material covering her abdomen changed over to her skirt, you feel a hint of a shiver from the slave. Trepidation. (set: $Cherish to it + 1) Her laminate is warm to the touch, however, slick and glossy beneath your hand. Looking up, she meets your gaze with a lidded look, arching her back a bit to press into your touch. Encouraging you. [[Run your hands down her body.->CExploreDown]] [[Run your hands up her body.->CExploreUp]]

(set: $Cherish to it + 1)Stepping up to the bound slave, you take note of her bindings. Rendered in heavy duty laminate, they take the form of cuffs that are in turn linked to the X-shaped cross by short lengths of chain. Those securing her wrists rattle as you lean in, Cherish watching you inqusitively as you examine the work. Release her entirely was impossible, but loosening the chains a bit to allow her to rest more easily on her heels would be possible. Alternatively, however, at least two links each could be reduced by snapping them together, dramatically tightening her bondage. [[Loosen her bindings.->CAdjustGood]] [[Tighten her bindings.->CAdjustBad]] [[Do nothing. Step back.->CherishPrivHub]]

(set: $Cherish to it + 1)Stepping up, you place one hand on Cherish's waist as your other dips down, finding the bright white laminate of her panties. The bound slave immediately thrusts her hips out, both a clear demonstration of her training and from sheer desire-- her lidded eyes look to you, goading you on. [[Slide a finger beneath her panties.->CTouchF]] [[Tease her pierced clit.->CTouchC]]

Approaching the bound slave, you position youreslf across from her. (if: $Sec is true)[Reaching down, you pull up your skirt, revealing the meeting of your thighs beneath. ]Another step allows you to press your womanhood against her rounded thigh, the slick laminate of her stocking giving way to the short expanse of flesh before her skirt interceded. (if: $Plugs is true)[Doing so provides you immediate satisfaction, your plugs shifting deep within your cunt, a moan sliding past your own lips. ](if: $Ballet is true)[It takes some effort to get the positioning right, given the presence of your ballet heels, but you manage. ](if: $Wet is true)[Despite the glossy bands proclaiming your promiscuity on each thigh, you hold Cherish in total rapture.] (set: $Cherish to it + 1) [[Direct Cherish to pleasure you.->CCun2]]

Reaching for the tray of implements set to the side for your use, Cherish sways her hips as your hand settles upon the vibrating wand. Consisting of a thick handle, the tip is wide, blunted, and capable of *considerable* vibrations when you flick the switch to engage it. (set: $Cherish to it + 1) Approaching Cherish, it's effects are made apparent as soon as you make contact with her alabaster panties, the slave squirming with delight as she arches her back, trying to press her cunt harder into the sweet sensations. [[Let her seek the vibrator.->CVibeNice]] [[Punish her for being greedy.->CVibeMean]]

(set: $Cherish to it + 1)Reaching for the tray of implements set to the side for your use, Cherish visibly shivers as you take up the shock baton. Fully black, the handle gives way to a rounded metallic end cap-- the design intended to remain useful even when pressed against laminate. Testing the device by pressing down the singular button, you're greated with an electric snapping sound that's matched with a lick of electricty arcing across the metallic head. Cherish moans dejectedly. [[Shock her tits.->CShockTop]] [[Shock her cunt.->CShockBottom]] [[On second thought... nevermind.->CherishPrivHub]]

(set: $Cherish to it + 1)Cherish's eyes follow as your attention shifts upward, to the smooth curvature of her chest. The soft blue laminate of her uniform clings tightly to her form as you run a hand gently along, observing the buttons and front closure-- an interesting detail, given she had mentioned it being applied via wardrobe device, and thus quite literally printed on. The slave is shapely, but its her nipples that you focus on, the bits of metal that signified piercings standing out when run across. [[Gently Tease her.->CNipTease]] [[Pinch her hard.->CNipPinch]] [[Suck on her nipples.->CNipSuck]]

(set: $Cherish to it + 1)Cherish, perhaps expecting some further torment or delight, looks at you a little wide-eyed as you pull up across from her, tapping a (if: $Blue is true or $Smoke is true or $Slave is true or $Brand is true)[gloved ]finger against your (if: $Slave is true)[mask's ]chin. [["I understand what it's like, to be in your position."->CTalkU]] [["You must have really made poor choices to end up in a collar."->CTalkDeserve]] [["Honestly? I wish I could be in your position."->CTalkWant]]

(set: $Cherish to it + 1)"Mmmmgh..." For once Cherish speaks up immediately, having watched you reach for the whip. Bound and gagged, utterly helpless, she tries to stay your hand with the only thing left to the slave-- her own body. Pressing her chest out, her already lidded gaze grows even more sensual, an unspoken promise being made. *Spare me, and I'll be a good girl for you.* (set: $WhipC to 0) [[Set the whip down. Approach her instead.->CWhipIgnore]] [[Take up the lash!->CWhip2]]

(set: $Cherish to it + 1)Instead of furthering Cherish's torment or pleasure, you instead give the girl a chance to rest. Settling down in the chair provided near the door, you reflect on your situation. You still couldn't remember much of your own past, but here you now sat, deep in a Torean city-- a slave, collared and uniformed, bound for your pleasure, utterly helpless before you. What strange paths we walk. After some time, you eventually rouse. [[You consider your options further.->CherishPrivHub]]

Your time is up, and you move towards the door just as another knock breaks the quiet of the room. Yet... as you do so, you notice one tool still left on the tray of implements at your disposal. *The dildo.* (if: $CherishT is < 0)[Despite your cruelty to her, ](if: $CherishT is > 0)[Perhaps because of your kindness to her, ]Cherish seems to realize the possibility too, thrusting hard against her restraints. Begging you for the pleasure it could provide-- perhaps even climax. Another knock, growing more insistent, is made against the door. [[Turn back for the dildo.->CherishEndDoor]] [[You don't want to risk it, go to the door.->CEndDil]]

You move your hands slowly downward from Cherish's waist. Her skirt immediately intercedes, but you glide over that easily enough, the ruffled laminate of her petticoats providing little in the way of actual coverage or protection. That allows you access to her panties, bright white and pulled tight between her legs, disappearing between the cleft of her rear. [[Tease her gently.->CExploreDownNice]] [[Tease her roughly.->CExploreDownBad]] [[Keep going down.->CExploreDown2]]

You move your hands slowly upward from Cherish's waist, following the smooth curve from her narrowest point, along the powder blue laminate of her uniform. The white buttons that decorate the front give way to the swell of her breasts beneath, your inquiring hands quickly ascertaining that each nipple is pierced-- which you twist softly, eliciting a quite moan as you continue on your way. Her collar is a two part affair, the outermost a decorative bit of laminate, folded stylishly and buttoned at the front much like the bodice. Beneath that however is a band of pure silvered steel, pulled tight against her throat. The club's logo is emblazoned upon the front, as well as a serial code of some sort-- knowing Torei, of use to Truant Officers or the like. Reaching her chin you're presented with an opportunity, however-- gagged as she is, cutting off her oxygen would be easy enough. A mere pinch of the nose, for instant breathplay. Cherish looks to you, squirming slightly. [[Pinch her nose.->CExploreUp2]] [[Step back, your examination complete.->CherishPrivHub]]

(set: $CherishT to it + 1)Sliding down between her legs, your hand comes to rest against her womanhood, only the thin layer of laminate there protecting her. Further up she again looks to you, if not begging then certainly seeking your affection. She gets it with two of your fingers being used to press against her lips, the presence of a piercing in her clit becoming immediately apparent. That Cherish felt it too is made clear by the way she suddenly pulls against her bindings, moaning gently in her gag. Your ministrations are gentle, but insistent, and its not long before she starts to pant-- and you abandon the effort, letting the tease be enough for now. Her frustrated but happy mewl suggests approval nevertheless. [[You continue working down her body.->CExploreDown2]]

(set: $CherishT to it - 1)Sliding down between her legs, your hand comes to rest against her womanhood, only the thin layer of laminate there protecting her. Further up she again looks to you, if not begging then certainly seeking your affection. She does not get it. Immediately you feel the presence of a ring piercing her clit, and focus upon it immediately, rubbing the sensative nub forcibly. Cherish reacts as one might expect, pulling hard against her restraints as she tries to speak-- although her gag renders that into little more than muffled moans. That you're having an effect is made apparent by the way her knees shift in, however, the only defensive measure she could manage as she begins to quiver from so much direct stimulation. Bringing her to cum right then and there would have been easy enough, but it's then you back off suddenly, leaving her unsated. Her upturned brows and quivering limbs speak to a distinct distaste for being so roughly treated. Not that she has a choice. [[You continue working down her body.->CExploreDown2]]

Returning to her hips if only to continue moving down her thighs, you pass briefly over the garters that hold her stockings up-- the tight bands of laminate disappearing beneath her skirt, undoubtedly connecting to a belt secreted somewhere above. The stockings themselves are as smooth as glossy as the rest of her uniform. White bands at the top of each thigh give way to blue further down, until her heeled shoes become apparent at the very bottom, the towering platforms improving her height dramatically. [[A wonderful examination. Step back.->CherishPrivHub]]

(set: $CherishT to it - 1)Her thin red glasses rest on the bridge of her nose as you reach up, thumb and forefinger closing quickly upon her nostrils. Immediately her eyes find your own as tries to pull free, her own collar impeding that effort. It's immediately clear that she doesn't enjoy the experience-- but then again, that's not her choice to make. [[Release her, and step back.->CherishPrivHub]] [[Hold her a bit longer.->CExploreUp3]]

"Mmmmmmgh!" Struggling against her bondage and your light torture, Cherish tries to breath around her ball gag, a difficult endeavor. Yet her efforts allow you an excellent view of her bound body writhing, pert chest pressed out and swaying, full hips shifting back and forth. It's almost a shame when you finally decide to release her, the slave's nostrils flaring as she tries to suck in much desired oxygen. For a moment she hangs loosely in her bindings, but does recover, eyes narrowed slightly in your direction. You get the sense she didn't like that. [[Step back.->CherishPrivHub]]

(set: $CherishT to it + 1)Cherish turns her head to watch as you reach up, momentarily forcing her first wrist further up. That gives you the slack to then loosen the binding by at least a full link, giving the bound slave that much more liberty. Repeating the effort on her other limbs allows her to rest more easily. Cherish responds by testing the new adjustment, her body momentarily straining against the bonds. What she finds clearly pleases her, a nod of thanks being delivered your way. A job well done. [[Step back.->CherishPrivHub]]

(set: $CherishT to it - 1)Cherish turns her head to watch as you reach up, momentarily forcing her first wrist further up. That gives you the slack to then slip an additional two links of her chain upon the hook holding it there, instantly forcing her limb to pull taut against the cross behind it. The slave notices the change immediately, pulling her to regain her lost liberty even as you progress to her other arm. By the time you finish with all four, the uniformed woman's predicament had moved beyond mere helplessness to a direct discomfort, her body spread so forcibly you see her struggling-- and failing-- to find a comfortable position. Drool runs down her gag and lands upon her chest in result, Cherish complainly openly with a low moan. A job well done. [[Step back.->CherishPrivHub]]

With her hips shifted slightly forward, the minscule cover Cherish's skirt normally provided is completely voided. Thus her panties are easily accessible, your hand upon them working slowly to invade, until a singular finger slips beneath the slick laminate. Feeling the intrusion Cherish moans softly, pressing her hips out further, seeking your attention. [[Play with her a bit more.-->CTouchF2]] [[Enter her.->CTouchFGG]]

With your finger on her panties the ring embedded in her clit is readily apparent, a bit of hard metal amongst her soft womanhood. Focusing on the piercing through the laminate of her panties, you eventually seize it gently with a pair of fingers. Even the slightest pull ellicits an immediate reaction from the slave, Cherish being like most women in that such direct stimulation could often be overwhelming. Swiveling her hips to press them out further, she wantonly seeks your attention. [[Play with her a bit more.-->CTouchC2]] [[Pull hard on her clit ring.->CTouchC2GG]]

The black-clad Mistress looks to you with a clear frown, her gloved hand rapping against the bench she sat upon in irritation. "I would have hoped you would have picked up on the necessity of watching one's words by now. To be on your knees is to be under another's power, and if you fail to respect that power..." Her tone alone suggests the folly of such a decision, but ultimately Isabella pushes the thought away. "You are lucky that I will not hold that against you. Now, let us see how you did." This time she glares at you expectantly. [["Yes, Mistress.->IsQCheck]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/iSfchkz.jpg" width="40%" height="40%"> Mistress Tysus Sargon sits at the center of the crescent-shaped booth, staring at you intently as the holographic interface between runs wild with data and displays. [["You wanted to ask me questions?"->SargonAsk]] (if: $SargonGo is true)[[["Can I ask you about yourself?"->SargonPersonal]] [["I have some questions about Daemons."->SargonDae]] [["Actually, I wanted to ask if you could help me get into the VIP area?"->SargonVIP]]](else:)[[["Can ask you about yourself?"->SargonNo]] [["I have some questions about Daemons."->SargonNo]] (if: $SargonBother is false)[[["Actually, I wanted to ask if you could help me get into the VIP area?"->SargonNo]]]] [["That's everything for now." Return to your own table.->LushHub]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/iSfchkz.jpg" width="40%" height="40%"> From the vantage of your approach, you get your first good look at the VIP member known as Tysus Sargon. She's seated alone in the center of a crescent-shaped booth, the plush dark material drinking in the light of the club. She would have been all but invisible had she not been focused on a haptic display projected before her, massive data tables running down before her as she leans in, adjusting black-rimmed glasses. As should have perhaps been expected, her outfit is pure laminate, the strictly business look of her pencil skirt offset by the semi-transparent material of the shirt she wears, the front pulled open exposing the bra worn underneath. That mixture of serious scholarship and playful sensuality seems to define her, from the outfit to her hair, black strands pulled into a tight bun-- but offset, producing an appeal asymmetrical effect. At that moment she holds a stylus in her hand, tapping it gently against blood-red lips. There is absolutely no doubt in your mind that she had failed to notice you, or much of anything else passing by. [["Mistress Sargon?"->SargonTalk]] [[Wait for her to notice you.->SargonWait]] (if: $PlayE is true)[[[Use your training, perform a reverence.->SargonRev]]]

"Hmm?" For the first time Tysus actually looks *at* you, her middle finger reaching up to push her glasses up her nose a bit. Clearly looking over your apparel, she waves you off with a sharp gesture. (if: $Blue is true)["Go away, girl-in-blue. I will accept no proposition from you, sell your body or whatever it is you intend elsewhere."](if: $Smoke is true)["Semi-transparent laminate is... a well considered look. But I have no need for your body, or whatever it is you wish to sell. Leave me be."](if: $Brand is true)["My time is most certainly too valuable for someone wearing a branded catsuit, of all things," she scoffs. "Leave me be."](if: $Sec is true)["I thought you one of my research assistants for a second... but you are lacking a collar. Perhaps you have the wrong table then? Certainly I have no need of you. Leave me."](if: $Slave is true)["I have not requested the service of a slave. Leave me be, my work is far too important for such distractions."] (if: $Slave is true)[[["I'm not a slave, check my ID if you wish. But I do need your help."->SargonGreet3]]](else:)[[["Actually, I was wondering if I could ask for your assistance..."->SargonGreet3]]]

Moving into a position directly before the table, you adopt a polite approach, waiting for the Torean Mistress to notice your presence. It's a well considered means of greeting-- if Tysus noticed you at all. Quickly several minutes pass, and despite flicking through a handful of data logs, the VIP member seems to have missed your presence completely. [[Speak up. "Mistress Sargon?"->SargonTalk]] (if: $PlayE is true)[[[Use your training, perform a reverence.->SargonRev]]]

Having approached the table, (if: $Sec is true)[you reach down, lifting your skirt to reveal your womanhood underneath.](else:)[you move your hands to the sides of your hips, folding them back.] Bowing, you notice your movement had drawn Tysus' attention. Protocol dictated you hold the reverence until greeted, and the Mistress before you clearly allows the pose to go long, only finally speaking up after a good minute. "Your etiquette and humility are noted(if: $Slave is true)[ slave], but my research is much too important to allow for any manner of distraction. You are dismissed." (if: $Slave is true)[[["I'm not a slave, check my ID if you wish. But I do need your help."->SargonGreet3]]](else:)[[["Actually, I was wondering if I could ask for your assistance..."->SargonGreet3]]]

Tysus sighs, but to her credit does set her stylus down, looking up at you from her seated position. "Explain." You do. Not the particulars, just the nature of your predicament, the need for a VIP sponsor. She listens, the way she seems to be staring through you, the way her fingers rap against the table, you get the sense of impending dismissal-- until you happen to mention one small detail: the Black Card. Sitting up sharply, Tysus looks to you intently. You suddenly have her full and undivided attention. "Have you seen it?" [["Seen what?"->SargonGreet4]] [["I'm not sure what you mean, Mistress?"->SargonGreet4]]

"The *Daemon*." It's a word she speaks with more than a little bit of awe, even reverence. "A figure in pure black laminate, but... so much more. An emissary, a fragment of divinity, a herald of... of..." She catches herself before running further into what you sense would have been a lengthy speech, and instead focuses, placing her hands on the table before looking to you again. "That black card you hold is... an exceptional item. A direct communication from a *Daemon*. I have so many questions... you *will* answer them." She doesn't give you an opportunity to resist, but does-- after a moment-- provide a carrot to go along with that stick. "And I will answer any questions that you may have. Tysus, of House Sargon, by the way. Charmed." Even so, she still doesn't offer you a seat. [[Well, at least your foot is in the proverbial door.->SargonHub]]

"Questions, yes-- most certainly. One moment." Picking up her stylus, the Torean Mistress adjusts the holographic display before her, swtiching the data stream to a panel that covers most of the table in a bright glow. While the laminate of her loose-fitting shirt passes right through, her stylus marks the hardlight much like paper as she looks to you again. "We return to my original question then-- have you *seen* it? The Daemon. Interacted with it? Spoke with it?" (if: $Daemon is true)[[["Yes I have, in an alley earlier today..."->SargonAskDY]]] [["Not that I can remember."->SargonAskDN]]

"I promised to speak of Daemons, not myself," Tysus replies sharply, only for a sly smile to cross her carefully painted lips. "But I do respect a sense of curiosity. If you have questions, ask them. [[You're a bit surprised that worked.->SargonPHub]]

Tysus smiles, the expression almost predatory when cloaked in the shadow of the booth as she is. "Why, that's my favorite subject. Speak." [["So what exactly is a Daemon?"->DaeWhatAre]] [["Everyone seems to fear Daemons, why is that?"->DaeFear]] [["Can I ask about their suits?"->DaeSuits]] [["You mentioned sightings of one nearby?"->DaeSightings]] [["You really think a Daemon gave me the Black Card?"->DaeBlackCard]] [["That's all for now, actually."->SargonHub]]

Bringing a hand to her chest, Tysus Sargon laughs. "Are you asking that I bring some Offworlder(if: $Slave is true)[, in a slave suit nonetheless,] along with me when I confront a Daemon? Certainly not. I will handle this entirely by myself. The accolades will be mine, and mine alone." [["I... understand."->SargonHub]] [["Please, I need to get up there! I need to know what happened to me!"->SargonAngerKnow]] [["Please, I need to get up there! I need to make that deal!"->SargonAngerCred]]

Tysus shakes her head immediately. "I will not speak of anything else until you submit to my questions." [["I understand."->SargonHub]] [["I understand, Mistress."->SargonHub]] [[Nod your head.->SargonHub]]

"You have? And so close?" Tysus writes furiously, taking notes far more copious then your own spoken words. "Tell me more!" There isn't much to tell, in truth, and you're not exactly sure how much of it you had perceived correctly. Looking back on the experience it almost feels more like a dream, details slipping away as hour is stacked atop hour, and the encounter fades. "That's not uncommon," the Mistress continues, as if sensing your confusion. "The one rule that we who research Daemons know for sure is that Daemons are erratic, acting in manners and ways we do not full understand. But testimonies occasionally mention a sense of altered perception when in proximity. Fascinating." Tapping her stylus against the table, she looks to you again. "Did you encounter a similiar reaction when you first acquired the Black Card?" [["Actually, I can't exactly remember how I got it...->SargonAsk2]]

Tysus notes your response, her notations far longer then your actual verbal response. "That's not unexpected," she explains meanwhile. "Daemons never seem to act in predicatable ways, but there are common denominators in what we can observe. Maintaining a distance from even those they have interest in is one of them. Although... I would guess that if you had paid attention, you may have caught a glimpse out of the corner of your eye on occasion." She looks up, tilting her head to the side. "Wait a minute-- how did you come into possession of the Black Card, then?" [["Well... I can't exactly recall..."->SargonAsk2]]

A report of amnesia associated with Daemons seems to intrigue Tysus, but her interest fades once you mention the Mem-Burn you had found in your hotel bedroom that morning. "Well," she concludes with a sigh, "I suppose just how you acquired that Black Card will remain a mystery. Most unfortunate. While the materials seem distinctly polar in origin, most reported cases seem to involve Black Cards being left to be discovered, or given by a third party. Some even seem to have been placed randomly, with frequently unfortunate results for those who come into posesssion of them..." She shrugs, but instead focuses on the other detail you had mentioned: the address on the card leading you here. "Do you at least recall why it would summon you here?" *With her interest in Daemons, telling her about your deal could endanger the entire thing.* [["I'd rather not say, actually."->SargonAsk3No]] [["I'm... here to make a deal, I think."->SargonAsk3Yes]]

Tysus pauses in her notation, adjusting her glasses before she looks up at you. Her expression had turned remarkably icy, which matches her tone. "You will *not* hold back relevent details from me, is that clear? My work would suffer were that the case, and *I* will not suffer that. Do we have an understanding?" [[Stand firm. "I'm sorry, but it's a private affair."->SargonAsk3No2]] [[Give in. "Alright, well, I'm actually here to make a deal..."->SargonAsk3Yes]]

"A deal, you say..." Tysus sits back, reclining in the plush material of her booth as she considers your words. "It must be with a Daemon, this cannot be a coincidence. The Black Card you hold, pulling you to this place. All of it matching a spike in Daemon sightings in this area, centered on this very Club?" She shakes her head. "Your forthrightness is appreciated, but I will learn the truth of this myself." [["Any other questions?"->SargonAskRude]] [["Any other questions, Mistress?"->SargonAsk4]]

The Torean Mistress draws herself up sharply. "That is... ill-considered. Were I not actively engaged in my research here, I would have you punished for such insolence. As it is? Consider yourself lucky a Truant Officer is not nearby." (set: $SargonNo to true) She leans back, reclining jealously in the plush material of her booth. It's a pose she holds for a long moment, before placing both arms on the table, hands collecting together before her nose. Her glasses catch the light as she looks up to you, reflections making them all but opaque. "This cannot be a coincidence, then. Your presence here, at the behest of a Black Card. Sightings of a Daemon... I will learn the truth of this. By myself, of course." [["Any other questions?"->SargonAskRude]] [["Any other questions, Mistress?"->SargonAsk4]]

"Don't push me," the Mistress replies calmly, even as her shoulders tense a bit. "And don't think I fail to recognize when you forget yourself in my presence. Ask again, properly this time." [["Any other questions, Mistress?"->SargonAsk4]]

"No," she concludes, saving the data she had pulled from you before returning the holographic display to its running data arrays. "You have my leave to go." It takes her several moments to remember her own words, but to her credit she does speak up again. "And I suppose I will answer any questions you have on Daemons, if that would sate you." *At the very least, your suspicions are confirmed: the Black Card is a product of the polar AIs and their mysterious Daemons. Your deal may very well be with that which seems to induce both fear and fascination in the native population. And Tysus' tone? She sounded liable to act on your information independently. What could that mean? Whatever the case, things had just gotten more dangerous.* (set: $SargonGo to true) [[You may now question Tysus, or leave her be.->SargonHub]]

You continue your ministrations, sliding your finger in the space between her womanhood and the laminate of her panties. She's wet, you can tell that from the slick sensation your finger induces, a fact that's confirmed by the way she looks at you-- almost disappointed in the way you refrain from entering her. Eventually you pull your finger back out, her feminine desire coating the digit. [[Wipe it off on her chest.->CTouchF3Whip]] (if: $Slave is false)[[[Suck it off your own finger.->CTouchF3Suck]]]

You continue your ministrations, sliding your finger in the space between her womanhood and the laminate of her panties, brushing continually against her clit piercing. She's wet, you can tell that from the slick sensation your finger induces, a fact that's confirmed by the way she looks at you-- burning with desire after such direct stimulation, overturning her frustration at not having been entered directly. Eventually you pull your finger back out, her feminine desire coating the digit. (set: $CherishT to it + 1) [[Wipe it off on her chest.->CTouchF3Whip]] (if: $Slave is false)[[[Suck it off your own finger.->CTouchF3Suck]]]

Boldly, you finger her clit then travel downward, sliding your finger between feminine folds slick with desire. Cherish's gagged moan is heartfelt, you get the sense that she rarely was allowed such experiences-- and knowing Torean culture, you had to imagine never by her own hand. (set: $CherishT to it + 1) Working slowly, you shift your finger within her, teasing her until she's panting softly, arching her back in a futile attempt to get closer to you. Her eyes are bright with enjoyment. Eventually you pull your finger back out however, her feminine desire coating the digit. [[Wipe it off on her chest.->CTouchF3Whip]] (if: $Slave is false)[[[Suck it off your own finger.->CTouchF3Suck]]]

With cruel intent, you use your position to seize more fully upon her pierced clit, pulling on the soft flesh. Direct stimulation of that point could be intense enough, but you quickly cross over into something more akin to torture, Cherish pulling hard against her restraints and she moans lewdly into her gag. (set: $CherishT to it - 1) By the third time you repeat the little maneuver you notice her eyes narrowed with frustration, her chest rising and falling from sharp breaths. She may not have liked it rationally, but your fingers are quite wet-- her body had betrayed her. [[Wipe it off on her chest.->CTouchF3Whip]] (if: $Slave is false)[[[Suck it off your own finger.->CTouchF3Suck]]]

Observing the slick material coating your fingers, you reaching forward again-- disappointing Cherish by not returning to the space between her legs, but instead running your digits across her chest. The slave hardly has a choice but to observe as you wipe her own feminine juices across the slick laminate. [[Time well spent. Step back and consider your next move.->CherishPrivHub]]

With a smile you slowly lift your hand, allowing Cherish to observe her own feminine juices hanging between your fingers, before you slide them between your full lips. Sucking off the natural lubricant, you find Cherish to taste slightly sweet-- and for the slave herself to be smiling beneath her gag despite it all. You've impressed her. (set: $CherishT to it + 1) [[Time well spent. Step back and consider your next move.->CherishPrivHub]]

Rattling a bit in her restraints, Cherish nevertheless is quick to act once you make your desires clear. The cuff at her ankle prevents total movement of the leg, but she has enough liberty to shift her thigh, grinding it against your cunt. The sensation is pleasing, if a bit distant, the logistics of the effort somewhat difficult given your relative positions. It also quickly seems to tire Cherish out, her ministrations growing slower as the effort required to move her leg proved uncomfortable. Nevertheless it's clear she would have continued had you not pulled back(if: $Sec is true)[, pulling down your skirt again,] and stepped back. Not every choice is the right one. [[Consider your choices further.->CherishPrivHub]]

In a display of charity, you allow Cherish to seek out the vibrator at her will. She uses the opportunity to its fullest, pressing her cunt against the device as hard as she can manage, straining against her bondage to further the effort from better leverage. It's a perhaps unsurprising display of her submission and promiscuity, the life of a Torean slave rarely allowing for such an opportunity. (set: $CherishT to it + 1) Eventually however you pull your arm back, earning a frustrated moan from the drooling slave as she shakes her hips. Certainly you had never intended to allow her to cum, right? Despite the frustration, you get the sense she's pleased. [[Step back and consider your options.->CherishPrivHub]]

Noting her slutty behavior immediately, you correct it by withdrawing the vibrator-- and delivering a sharp slap to her hip. Cherish bucks in her restraints, taken by surprise, even as her hips still dance-- hungry for further experience with the vibrator. When you do eventually provide it she demonstrates a lesson learned however, approaching the sensations more carefully, watching your eyes even as she sought to look down-- carefully attempting to avoid your displeasure. Even when doing so much right you eventually pull the vibrator back again however, earning a frustrated moan once you flick the switch off. (set: $CherishT to it - 1) That had been more teasing then pleasure, and she clearly hadn't enjoyed it. [[Step back and consider your next move.->CherishPrivHub]]

As you focus on Cherish's laminate covered chest, the bound slave clearly understands your intent. Her training shows through as she gamely retains her position (not that she really had an option otherwise), trembling only slightly as you get closer. Pressing the baton against her breasts, you provide her with a quick test of the device by flicking the switch. "Mmmmmgh..." Cherish keeps her response relatively quiet, gritting through the sensations you force upon her well enough. [[That's enough. Step back and consider your other options.->CherishPrivHub]] [[Shock her longer.->CShockTop2]]

As you slide some of Cherish's skirt out of the way to more easily access her womanhood, the bound slave clearly understands your intent. Her training shows through as she gamely retains her position (not that she really had an option otherwise), trembling only slightly as you work. Pressing the baton against the laminate of her panties, you provide her with a quick test of the device by flicking the switch. "Mmmmmgh..." Cherish keeps her response relatively quiet, gritting through the sensations you force upon her well enough. [[That's enough. Step back and consider your other options.->CherishPrivHub]] [[Shock her longer.->CShockBottom2]]

If Cherish thought that was all you would attempt, she's soon sorely mistaken. Reaching up again, this time you press the baton more firmly against her tits, and hold the trigger for longer. The crackle of the device engaging is met with a more immediate gagged moan this time, one that devolves into something like a scream as you hold Cherish to the proverbial fire. Most of the current passes into her unseen, but of those that are visible you notice the arcing electricty seemingly focusing on her nipples-- a direct result of the piercings she bore in each. (set: $CherishT to it - 1) Afterwards you pause, the slave before you sagging in her bondage, moaning softly. [[That's enough. Step back and consider your other options.->CherishPrivHub]] [[Again.->CShockTop3]]

As you return the baton to her breasts for the third time, Cherish finally breaks. Her struggling increases considerably as she attempts to pull away, to shield herself from your cruel intentions. But it's a futile effort, one that ends in her own shaking her chest somewhat lewdly. Realizing her fate, she calms as you press the device against her laminate, and instead looks into your eyes-- begging silently for a reprieve. [[That's enough, actually. Step back and consider your other options.->CherishPrivHub]] [[Shock the slut.->CShockTop4]]

"MMmmmmMMMmmmmmmgh!" (set: $CherishT to it - 1) Again you flick the shock baton's switch, and again you hold it against her chest. Her gagged scream is louder then before, but also much shorter-- as you persist she gives way, collapsing into sharp-paced if quite breathing, hanging utterly defeated in her bindings. By the time you finally pull back you notice a tear having run down her cheek. [[She got what she deserves.->CherishPrivHub]]

If Cherish thought that was all you would attempt, she's soon sorely mistaken. Reaching up again, this time you press the baton more firmly against her cunt, and hold the trigger for longer. The crackle of the device engaging is met with a more immediate gagged moan this time, one that devolves into something like a scream as you hold Cherish to the proverbial fire. Most of the current passes into her unseen, but of those that are visible you notice the arcing electricty seemingly focusing her clit-- a direct result of the piercing she bore there. (set: $CherishT to it - 1) Afterwards you pause, the slave before you sagging in her bondage, moaning softly. [[That's enough. Step back and consider your other options.->CherishPrivHub]] [[Again.->CShockBottom3]]

As you return the baton to her cunt for the third time, Cherish finally breaks. Her struggling increases considerably as she attempts to pull away, to shield herself from your cruel intentions. But it's a futile effort, one that ends in her thrusting her hips somewhat lewdly. Realizing her fate, she calms as you press the device against her laminate, and instead looks into your eyes-- begging silently for a reprieve. [[That's enough, actually. Step back and consider your other options.->CherishPrivHub]] [[Shock the slut.->CShockBottom4]]

"MMmmmmMMMmmmmmmgh!" (set: $CherishT to it - 1) Again you flick the shock baton's switch, and again you hold it against her panties. Her gagged scream is louder then before, but also much shorter-- as you persist she gives way, collapsing into sharp-paced if quite rapid breathing, hanging utterly defeated in her bindings. By the time you finally pull back you notice a tear having run down her cheek. [[She got what she deserves.->CherishPrivHub]]

You take the gentle approach, fondling and tweaking her nipples instead of anything more aggressive. Cherish twists in her bindings, the teasing a pleasurable as is frustrating, but you get the sense that she's enjoying the experience. Somewhere along the way she closes her eyes, merely riding the sensations forced upon her body. By the time you decide to step back, considering your other options, the slave is smiling despite her gag. (set: $CherishT to it + 1) [[Time well spent.->CherishPrivHub]]

(if: $Slave is true)[Lips locked behind the glossy black laminate of your mask, the idea is a nice one, but impossible. [[Gently Tease her.->CNipTease]] [[Pinch her hard.->CNipPinch]]](else:)[(set: $CherishT to it + 2)Approaching the bound slave, you fondle her gently, running your hands along the smooth curve from waist to chest. Her breasts are soft, but your ministrations quickly harden her nipples, the steel stud piercing each becoming all the more obvious. It's a situation that allows you to easily lean in, first kissing her chest, then suckling her nipple through the laminate. The position required prevents you from observing Cherish's reaction, but the tight little moan you hear makes it clear enough-- you had pleasantly surprised her. By the time you finish sometime later, the gagged slave watches your retreat with a bright twinkle in her eye. [[She liked that one.->CherishPrivHub]]]

You take the opportunity for aggression, Cherish's bound form too tempting to resist. Lulling her into a false sense of security is easy enough, gentle fondling providing as much-- which only heightens the impact when you suddenly seize upon one of her pierced nipples, tweaking it hard. Cherish grunts into her gag in response, her back arching in a natural reaction to lesson the pain. Her eyes had been closing but they snap back open now, looking to you with a hint of betrayal. By the *third* time you perform the maneuver, however, she merely meets your gaze with resigned discomfort. (set: $CherishT to it - 1) [[The slave deserved it.->CherishPrivHub]]

Given your oufit, (if: $Blue is true)[glossy blue yet adorned with restraints, Cherish seems to believe you.](if: $Smoke is true)[smokey black yet semi-transparent, complete with harness, Cherish seems to believe you.](if: $Brand is true)[glossy black catsuit adorned with the club's own logo, Cherish seems to believe you.](if: $Sec is true)[the smartly styled secretarial design undoubtedly fetishistic but not utterly demeaning, Cherish seems to doubt you.](if: $Slave is true)[full enclosure black slave suit restricting your every breath, Cherish seems to believe you.] She shifts in her restraints, observing. [["Torei has been... trying, thus far."->CTalkTry]] [["Torei has been... horrific, thus far."->CTalkHor]] [["Torei has been... terrific, thus far."->CTalkTer]]

Given your oufit, (if: $Blue is true)[glossy blue yet adorned with restraints and topped with a collar, Cherish seems to see a hypocrite in you.](if: $Smoke is true)[smokey black yet semi-transparent, complete with harness, Cherish seems to see a hypocrite in you.](if: $Brand is true)[glossy black catsuit adorned with the club's own logo, Cherish seems to see a hypocrite in you.](if: $Sec is true)[the smartly styled secretarial design undoubtedly fetishistic but not utterly demeaning, Cherish seems to consider your statement.](if: $Slave is true)[full enclosure black slave suit restricting your every breath, Cherish seems see a hypocrite in you.] She shifts in her restraints, observing. [["Torei has been... trying, thus far."->CTalkTry]] [["Torei has been... horrific, thus far."->CTalkHor]] [["Torei has been... terrific, thus far."->CTalkTer]]

Given your oufit, (if: $Blue is true)[glossy blue yet adorned with restraints and topped with a collar, Cherish nods, seeing in you a common desire among women on Torei-- despite the demeaning experience that slavery could be.](if: $Smoke is true)[smokey black yet semi-transparent, complete with harness, Cherish nods, seeing in you a common desire among women on Torei-- despite the demeaning experience that slavery could be.](if: $Brand is true)[glossy black catsuit adorned with the club's own logo, Cherish nods, seeing in you a common desire among women on Torei-- despite the demeaning experience that slavery could be.](if: $Sec is true)[the smartly styled secretarial design undoubtedly fetishistic but not utterly demeaning, Cherish seems surprised by your declaration. You are not dressed as a common slave would generally choose.](if: $Slave is true)[full enclosure black slave suit restricting your every breath, Cherish nods, seeing in you a common desire among women on Torei-- your predicament already dangerously close to a proper collar.] She shifts in her restraints, observing. [["Torei has been... trying, thus far."->CTalkTry]] [["Torei has been... horrific, thus far."->CTalkHor]] [["Torei has been... terrific, thus far."->CTalkTer]]

Cherish, nods, a line of drool running from her gag to fall upon the floor. Given her position, *trying* would have been an apt description for her own predicament, after all. [["I just wanted you to know I bought you for this hour out of curiosity."->CTalkCurious]] [["I just wanted you to know I bought you for this hour to make you squeal."->CTalkSqueal]] [["I just wanted you to know I bought you for this hour because slaves are meant to be enjoyed."->CTalkEnjoy]]

Cherish looks at you curiously, a line of drool running from her gag to fall upon the floor. Given her position, *horrific* would have been an apt description for her own predicament-- yet she cannot bring herself to agree. The slave didn't seem to particularly *enjoy* her experience, yet something... pleased her about it all. [["I just wanted you to know I bought you for this hour out of curiosity."->CTalkCurious]] [["I just wanted you to know I bought you for this hour to make you squeal."->CTalkSqueal]] [["I just wanted you to know I bought you for this hour because slaves are meant to be enjoyed."->CTalkEnjoy]]

Cherish squints, a line of drool running from her gag to fall upon the floor. Given her position, *terrifc* hardly seemed an apt description for her own predicament, after all. [["I just wanted you to know I bought you for this hour out of curiosity."->CTalkCurious]] [["I just wanted you to know I bought you for this hour to make you squeal."->CTalkSqueal]] [["I just wanted you to know I bought you for this hour because slaves are meant to be enjoyed."->CTalkEnjoy]]

Your words land upon familiar territory for the slave, perhaps even being expected. It made sense-- she had said she was available, just like this, for anyone will to pay. How many like you had bound and teased-- or tortured-- her for their own casual amusement? Only to leave afterward, perhaps going home, perhaps returning to the Way Up. And what did Cherish return to? Her position on the club floor, or a cage in the backroom. And thus another Torean day passed. [[You step back, considering it all.->CherishPrivHub]]

Your words land upon familiar territory for the slave, perhaps even being expected. It made sense-- she had said she was available, just like this, for anyone will to pay. How many like you had bound and teased-- or tortured-- her for their own cruel amusement? Only to leave afterward, perhaps going home, perhaps returning to the Way Up. And what did Cherish return to? Her position on the club floor, or a cage in the backroom. And thus another Torean day passed. [[You step back, considering it all.->CherishPrivHub]]

Your words land upon familiar territory for the slave, perhaps even being expected. It made sense-- she had said she was available, just like this, for anyone will to pay. How many like you had bound and teased-- or tortured-- simply because she was offered? Only to leave afterward, perhaps going home, perhaps returning to the Way Up. And what did Cherish return to? Her position on the club floor, or a cage in the backroom. And thus another Torean day passed. [[You step back, considering it all.->CherishPrivHub]]

Enticed, your and hovers over the handle of the whip for a long moment-- before you finally pull back, and instead stride towards the slave. As promised, she eagerly rises to meet you, pushing off her cross as best she can. Yet when your hands draw close she withdraws, only returning her affections when you move slowly. It's sometime later, your (if: $Blue is true)[glossy blue](if: $Smoke is true)[smoky black](if: $Brand is true)[catsuit-covered](if: $Sec is true)[secretarially-dressed](if: $Slave is true)[enclosure-suit covered] body pressed against hers, that you realize Cherish had 'convinced' you to take it slow and actually hadn't accomplished much. Given your limited time with her, that must have been intentional. [[Devious slave!->CherishPrivHub]]

(set: $WhipC to it + 1)(if: $WhipC is 1)[Ignoring her entreaties, you seize the handle of the whip, its long black laminate coil unfurling like a serpentine tongue. Cherish barely has a moment to cringe before you lash out, striking her on the flank. The snap is loud, as is the slave's yelp, her hips dancing as she deals with the pain.](if: $WhipC is 2)[Your second blow lands in much the same place, Cherish pulling hard against her restraints in response.](if: $WhipC is 3)[Strike three is especially well aimed, the whip connecting on her flank then wrapping around to snap hard against her rear. Cherish moans in response.](if: $WhipC is 4)[Shifting to her other flank, your fourth strike earns another moan from the tortured slave.](if: $WhipC is 5)[Struggling in her restraints, Cherish actively tries to avoid your fifth strike-- the effort utterly futile, of course.](if: $WhipC is 6)[Cherish's lips pull back, her teeth biting hard against her ball gag as you continue to work her over.](if: $WhipC is 7)[Your seventh strike upon her flank sees the slave's hips shifting back and forth, flairing her skirt most provacatively.](if: $WhipC is 8)[Once more pulling hard agaisnt her bondage, Cherish remains utterly at your cruel mercies. The way her eyes narrow, you know she will remember this treatment.](if: $WhipC is 9)[Moaning, Cherish thrusts hard once more agaisnt her bindings-- and then settles down upon her cross as you continue to work her over.](if: $WhipC is 10)[With a final lash, you realize you have spent enough time giving the slave her due.] (if: $WhipC is < 11)[[[Give her the lash!->CWhip2]]] [[She's had enough. Cease.->CWhip3]]

Having deemed her worthy of mercy, if only after tasting the lash, you finally curl the whip in your hands and return it to the tray before glancing to Cherish. (if: $WhipC is 1 or 2 or 3)[(set: $CherishT to it - 1)A whipping could never be described as gentle, but you had limited the lashes she recieved. Still-- you get the sense she won't forget that ill treatment, even as she wriggles in her bondage, unable to poke or prod the red welt visible in the space between her skirt and stockings.](if: $WhipC is < 4 or 5 or 6 or 7)[(set: $CherishT to it - 2)As whippings went, you have given the slave a pretty solid once-over, and she looks it-- her brows upturned in discomfort, her breathing coming short and fast. The way she looks to you makes it clear she won't forget this experience, and indeed, how could she? The red welts visible in the space between her skirt and stockings made her punishment easy to remember.](if: $WhipC is > 7)[(set: $CherishT to it - 3)You gave her no mercy, as the slave's appearance clearly demonstrates. Hangingly loosly in her bondage, drool running down from her gag, Cherish pants heavily-- the pain still coursing through her nerves, evidenced by the way she shifts her hips, her short skirt revealing her panties even as she merely tries to combat the sensations her cuffs prevented her from addressing. Her expression is dark, meanwhile. You very well may have made an enemy here.] [[A rough experience, but yours to give. Step back.->CherishPrivHub]]

(set: $CherishT to it - 1)Making your way to the door, you abandon Cherish--and any chance she had to cum-- behind you. The slave's gagged protestations are ignored, as instead you open the portal to the hallway beyond. Another uniformed slave of the club awaits outside, her smile only *slightly* betraying the fact that you had hesitated before coming to the door. "Good evening, Mistress," she greets, performing a quick curtsy. Much like Cherish, her skirt is scandously short. "I hope our Cherish provided a... pleasing experience? She steps aside, allowing you to make your way past and back towards your table. [["She did."->LushHub]] [["I had my fun, at least."->LushHub]]

Seeing you turn back, Cherish moans hungrily into her gag, thrusting out her hips. Meanwhile you take up the dildo, the artificial cock heavy, rendered in carefully crafted laminate. At the door, a feminine voice speaks up. "Mistress? Your time is up. A late exit would incur a financial penalty!" With dildo in hand, Cherish seems quite keen that you ignore the warning. [[Not worth it. Set the dildo down and go to the door.->CEndDil]] [[Reach for Cherish's panties.->CherishEndDoor2]]

The slave nearly swoons as you reach beneath her skirt, sliding down her alabaster panties to reveal lips wet with desire, a ring-shaped piercing glinting from its place at her clit. Again Cherish bucks against her restraints, eager for the cock. How rare were her oppotunities for such treatment? [[Fuck her hard, you don't have much time.->CherishFast]] [[Fuck her slowly, keep her from climaxing.->CherishSlow]]

"Ah," Cherish replies, her hands collecting before her waist. (if: $CherishT is 0)["All things considered... honestly, it was as balanced an experience as I've ever had, Mistress. I'm not sure if that was your intention, but I simply do not have much more to say about."](if: $CherishT is > 0)["All things considered... I very much enjoyed our time together, Mistress. If you ever stop by Lush again, you're welcome to lock me to a cross if you like." She winks. "I'll keep an eye out for you."](if: $CherishT is < 0)["All things considered... I hope that I pleased you, Mistress. Her tone is distant, superficially pleasant but clearly hiding her true thoughts. That was often cultivated in a slave, a distinct inability to lie well. Clearly she had *not* enjoyed your rough treatment. "I'll remember out time together."] [["Well, alright then."->CherishHub]]

With the door behind you liable to open any moment, you drive the dildo into Cherish, her lower lips eagerly accepting the intruder. Hilting within her, the slave moans in the most lewd manner yet, her back arching as she pulls as hard as she could against her restraints. Anything to further the pleasure between her legs. And further that pleasure you do, ramming her in quick succession with the cock, claiming her cunt with your phallic facsimile. Already enthusiastic and well worked up, it doesn't take Cherish long to approach the peak of her desire. Bucking once more in her bondage, breasts thrust out, she presses once more into her cuffs-- cumming **hard.** Just as the door opens behind you. [[Lucky girl.->CherishFast2]]

Well experienced in such positions of submission, Cherish recognizes *immediately* your intention-- even as her body betrays her, bucking against her restraints as you first drive the cock between her nether lips. She cannot help the moan that follows, but does look deep into your eyes afterward, begging without words for a reprieve-- for the opportunity to cum she was so often denied. You don't give it to her. Instead, when the door is finally unlocked behind you, you're just sliding the slick phallus from a deeply frustrated Cherish. [[A slave's life is never easy.->CherishSlow2]]

(set: $CherishT to it + 2)(set: $debt to it - 100)The door to the hallway beyond is opened to reveal another uniformed slave, a universal keycard held in her gloved hands. Quickly looking across the scene, her look of concern shifts to a pleasing smile-- one that allows just a *hint* of jealously to run across her features upon seeing Cherish sagging in her restraints, cum dripping from between her legs. "Mistress," the other slave greets, performing a polite curtsy. "I see you... quite enjoyed your time with our Cherish? You must have, if you thought it worth an extra 100 credits for going over your appointed time." Behind you, Cherish moans in sweet relief. Clearly *she* thought you had made the right decision. "Well," the other slave continues, "I will see that Cherish is cleaned up, and she will soon be back on the floor. Please, Mistress, return to the club proper." You do, stepping past the newcomer to emerge back out into the hallway beyond, and then the club floor, making for your table. [[It's not far.->LushHub]]

(set: $CherishT to it - 2)(set: $debt to it - 100)The door to the hallway beyond is opened to reveal another uniformed slave, a universal keycard held in her gloved hands. Quickly looking across the scene, her look of concern shifts to a pleasing smile-- one that allows just a *hint* of shared empathy to run across her features upon seeing Cherish sagging in her restraints, utterly unsatisfied. "Mistress," the other slave greets, performing a polite curtsy. "I see you... quite enjoyed your time with our Cherish? You must have, if you thought it worth an extra 100 credits for going over your appointed time." Behind you, Cherish moans in total frustration. Clearly *she* thought you had made the cruel decision. "Well," the other slave continues, "I will see that Cherish is cleaned up, and she will soon be back on the floor. Please, Mistress, return to the club proper." You do, stepping past the newcomer to emerge back out into the hallway beyond, and then the club floor, making for your table. [[It's not far.->LushHub]]

Tysus Sargon looks to you expectantly, waiting for your questions regarding herself. [["What is House Sargon, exactly?"->SargonWhatHouse]] [["Did you go to a university of some sort, to study Daemons?"->SargonWhatUni]] [["Do you own any slaves?"->SargonWhatSlaves]] [["That's all the questions I have now."->SargonHub]]

"You are not familiar with House Sargon?" She looks up at you, incredulous, before an adjustment of her glasses masks a realization. "Ah, your... memory issues. Of course. Well, suffice it to say, House Sargon is one of the two Diarchic families in this Ringdom, along with House Naram-Sin. We each control a Prime Market, the massive slave markets that are central to the Aekoran economy, and we both elect a Diarch-- one from each family making executive decisions." She collects her hands together on the table. "House Sargon is very large, however. Hundreds of existant members. Instead of pursuing an administrative career, one that would lead into politics, I chose an academic one." [["Interesting."->SargonPHub]]

"No," she replies immediately, but does clarify. "In that I mean that Daemonology isn't a particularly widespread discipline. Only a few institutions of higher learning concern themselves with the polar AIs, and none of those in Aekora have that distinction. But I do have degrees in Material Science, Engineering, and Sociology." Given her youth, she must have been a prodigy. Torean biomedical technology went far, but it hadn't expanded to the point of providing that sort of intelligence. Tysus meanwhile shrugs her narrow shoulders. "They are useful disciplines for the study of Daemons, but in that particular field I am what one would call *self-taught*." [["I see."->SargonPHub]]

She pauses. "I do. Although only a personal assistant. My family provides a subsidy, of course, but if I am need of anything further I simply utilize my contacts with the nearby Finishing Academy. They are always willing to lend me a few girls, if the need arises. Otherwise, a scholar's life is not particularly flush with credits." [[Of course.->SargonPHub]]

As Tysus draws herself up, you realize you're in for a bit of a lecture. "Daemon," she begins, "is a colloquial term, one generally carrying a negative connotation. 'Emissary' is another, much the opposite in that it is generally used by those intending a positive connotation. The *proper* term, however, is an Isolation Laminate." A professor in tone and appearance if not demeanor, Tysus adjusts her glasses before continuing. "I prefer the term 'Daemon' because I think it important to not forget their origin, but 'Isolation Laminate' does drill to the heart of the matter-- in that with most everything regarding such creatures, we are speaking of the suit. A human does reside within, but in a state we cannot fully speak to. The suit controls them, conditions them, enslaves them." [["Where do they come from?"->DaeWhere]] [["What do they want?"->DaeWhat]] [["So are the humans within aware?"->DaeAware]] [["Why use humans at all?"->DaeWhyHuman]] [["That's enough on what they are, for now."->SargonDae]]

"That, at least, has a clear answer." Leaning in, the shadows of the booth in which Tysus shade occlude her eyes, drowning them in shadow. "To be of interest to a Daemon is to be of interest to the polar AIs. Imagine that. Mazos and Dahome are beings of infinite wisdom, vast and terrible, more akin to forces of nature or even *Gods* then anything we can understand in our frail morality. When you stand face to face with a Daemon, you are in turn looking into the eye of impossible vastness-- and it has broken from its cosmic divinity to look back into you." She leans back, returning the light. "Why would it do that?" [[Perhaps some questions are better left unanswered."->SargonDae]]

"That is always the subject of most interest," Tysus muses, with only a slight roll of the eyes. "It is important in the study of Daemonology, of course, but there is a general fascination from the public in that which confounds belief. But I shall indulge you. Ask." [["Are they fully enclosed?"->DaeEnclose]] [["Are they defenseless?"->DaeDefense]] [["Do they need to recharge?"->DaeRecharge]] [["Are the people within ever released?"->DaeRelease]] [["Are the people within still... there? Mentally?"->DaeMent]] [["Those are all the questions I have for now on their suits."->SargonDae]]

"Yes." With an outstretched arm, the loose laminate of her jacket demonstrating its transparency as it passes over the neon Club, Tysus indicates Lush in its entirety. "It is why I am here. Both generally, in that I am on location, and specifically-- in that I am in this booth, on the ground level instead of the VIP. From here I can watch all entrances and exits to the Club. I'm watching for it. A male, I'm told." She taps her hand on the table. "This information you have brought me, however... I will be acting on it shortly. Breaking my vigilance to confirm my own theory. That you have been summoned by a Daemon via that Black Card.(if: $SargonNo is true)[ I very well may have already, if you hadn't made the pitifully poor decision to deny me the information I need, during the earlier questioning."]" [["I want to ask about something else."->SargonDae]]

"The facts as we know it align," the Torean Mistress concludes. "I cannot speak to why Mem-Burn was used upon you, or by your own hand, but the Black Card is the key. Somewhere in that lost past, you made contact with a Daemon-- or someone who is in turn in contact with one. (if: $SargonNo is true)[If you had told me why you are here when I asked earlier, perhaps I could deduce more. As it is? I will need to go up to the VIP area soon, and act upon my hypothesis."](if: $SargonNo is false)[What you told me, that you are here to make a deal of some sort, only furthers my hypothesis. I will need to go up to the VIP area soon, confront the creature."] [["I want to ask about something else."->SargonDae]] (if: $SargonBother is false)[[["Can you take me with you, up into the VIP area?"->SargonVIP]]]

"That question's answer is as old as human settlement on Torei. Did you know this planet isn't... *natural?* It was constructed, from stellar dust and debris, by the polar AIs. Mazos and Dahome, as we call them. They built this planet over passing aeons, then cultivated its atmosphere-- and finally set to work on populating it. Thus the first humans were bred, but when they proved unruly... the Isolation Laminates. Leave it to an artifical intelligence to take such an efficient approach, converting dissidents into slave-overseers." Tysus flicks open an annotated timeline upon her holographic display, its sheer length demonstrating Torei's great age. "We broke free, of course. After the Sharecropping Wars, the first Ringdoms were founded. But the AIs still have their slaves, deep within their polar ziggurats-- and the occasional unfortunate in an Isolation Laminate still walks among us. Daemons, haunting outer villages and performing strange acts in the night to some. Emissaries to others, providing boons and communicating-- as best they can-- the desires of their AI Masters." [["What do they want?"->DaeWhat]] [["So are the humans within aware?"->DaeAware]] [["Why use humans at all?"->DaeWhyHuman]] [["That's enough on what they are, for now."->SargonDae]]

"Now, *that* is the vexing question." Tysus leans back, reclining in her booth. One arm stretches out along the top, the other gesturing as she speaks. "Simply put: we do not know. To understand their intentions, you would need to understand their Masters-- and the polar AIs are beyond strange. They do no think as we do, they do not have personalities to interact with, we are not even sure if their consciousness is gestalt, unified, or some other obscure form of sentience. Think... think of the Daemons as a thousand fingers emerging from a terrifying hand, so vast as to be almost infinite. We cannot hope to perceive what such a hand would intend to grasp." [["Where do they come from?"->DaeWhere]] [["So are the humans within aware?"->DaeAware]] [["Why use humans at all?"->DaeWhyHuman]] [["That's enough on what they are, for now."->SargonDae]]

"I sincerely hope not," Tysus replies, lips drawing into a tight line. "Evidence however... suggests we cannot jump to conclusions, either way. Leading theories suggest the prisoner, if we may use that term, is perhaps in a perpetual fugue state. Slipping into and out of perception. Daemons have been observed working through pleasure cycles, however-- a clear indicator of the human within being stimulated." [["Where do they come from?"->DaeWhere]] [["What do they want?"->DaeWhat]] [["Why use humans at all?"->DaeWhyHuman]] [["That's enough on what they are, for now."->SargonDae]]

"Another good question," the professorial Mistress replies, tapping her fingers upon the table. "The intial reason for their creation makes sense-- converting dissidents among the AI's slave populations into easily managed testaments to their will. But why persist in this program, after so many centuries? I do have a theory, though." She leans in. "They persist because we allow it. Most Ringdoms maintain strict non-interaction laws with Daemons, and in turn they wander freely. Eyes and ears for the AIs, nudging the events in their grand machinations." [["Where do they come from?"->DaeWhere]] [["What do they want?"->DaeWhat]] [["So are the humans within aware?"->DaeAware]] [["That's enough on what they are, for now."->SargonDae]]

"Yes. Fully. Of that we are certain. From helmet to heels, which yes-- both genders wear. The material itself is laminate, much like you or I bear, but the AIs have ensured only the Daemons have access to what is clearly a more advanced composition. Details vary, and as always firsthand reports are rare, but shape-shifting of a limited variety as well as complete vacuum protection have been reported. That they persist on internal air recycling has been demonstrated rather simply, by a lack of observed condensation from breathing in colder environments." Tysus pauses. "What the suit inflicts upon its wearer in such a closed environment is not altogether clear, however. (if: $Slave is true)[I would think it somewhat comparable to your own circumstances, however." She gestures towards your standardized slave suit. [["Like my suit?"->DaeSlaveSS]]](else:)[I imagine it being something like that which we inflict upon slaves wearing the standardized suit some in this Ringdom require of slaves in this Ringdom, if you have ever witnessed such a situation. Black, full enclosure, plugs in both holes? Similar concept." [["Are they defenseless?"->DaeDefense]] [["Do they need to recharge?"->DaeRecharge]] [["Are the people within ever released?"->DaeRelease]] [["Are the people within still... there? Mentally?"->DaeMent]] [["Those are all the questions I have for now on their suits."->SargonDae]]]

"Hardly! There is a reason there has never been a confirmed capture of a Daemon for more then a few hours. Most commonly we get reports of electric discharge from their gloves-- akin a shock baton. Their suits can shift in shape to a limited degree as well, forming blades or most anything else they need. And *that* is all on top of their strength. Once again, theories vary as to the particulars of how they do it but they can demonstrate exceptional strength at times-- such as bending steel bars, or the like. Those suits are incredible. [["Are they fully enclosed?"->DaeEnclose]] [["Do they need to recharge?"->DaeRecharge]] [["Are the people within ever released?"->DaeRelease]] [["Are the people within still... there? Mentally?"->DaeMent]] [["Those are all the questions I have for now on their suits."->SargonDae]]

Tysus nods. "Now you're thinking like a researcher. Given their abilities, the apparent semi-direct control exerted over them-- they must require constant power infusions, right? Well you would be wrong. Daemons have been observed operating for several weeks unimpeded, and even longer while sitting... or bound... in dormant states. But this is one of the subjects in which we *do* understand how they do it. Are you familiar with piezoelectricty?" She doesn't wait for you to actually reply, continuing instead. "Certain materials can generate electricty in response to mechanical stress... such as the metallic boning of a corset. Yes it enforces the intended waistline, but with every breath the wearer stresses the material-- and we have nigh-infinite energy." The Mistress actually smiles for once. "Even the male Daemons are corseted, if you're wondering. Serves them right, I have alwas wondered why only us women generally wear such things..." [["Are they fully enclosed?"->DaeEnclose]] [["Are they defenseless?"->DaeDefense]] [["Are the people within ever released?"->DaeRelease]] [["Are the people within still... there? Mentally?"->DaeMent]] [["Those are all the questions I have for now on their suits."->SargonDae]]

"That is another point of contention. The best I can respond with is... *perhaps*. Within the polar ziggaruts that are both the bodies of Mazos and Dahom, as well as the prisons that hold their human slaves, we believe there are... something like living quarters. Some theories suggest that those within the Isolation Laminates *are* eventually released into such areas, after their terms of service are done." She shrugs. "What we do not have are any reports of Daemons being released back into *our* societies." [["What of the opposite? Does anyone ever... join them?"->DaeJoin]] [["Are they fully enclosed?"->DaeEnclose]] [["Are they defenseless?"->DaeDefense]] [["Do they need to recharge?"->DaeRecharge]] [["Are the people within still... there? Mentally?"->DaeMent]] [["Those are all the questions I have for now on their suits."->SargonDae]]

"As with so many things, we cannot be certain," Tysus replies. "The AIs do not part with their Daemons-- **ever**. There are of course stories of damaged Isolation Laminates, of brief escapes from them... but it's strange, they always seem to end the same way: with the slave returning from whence they came. Back into the clutches of the AI. What madness would drive them to that?" She lets you ponder the question for a moment, but as always has an answer of her own ready. "I think it most likely that the experience of wearing such a suit... changes a person." [["How do you mean?"->DaeMent2]]

"Why yes," Tysus nods. "Black. Full enclosure, complete with breathing regulation. Heeled, corseted, plugged. It must almost be an overwhelming experience, hm? Now dial up such perceptions, place them in the hands of beings with infinite wisdom, infinite time, and infinite experience torturing slaves just like you." [["Terrifying."->DaeSlaveTer]] [["I wonder how it would feel..."->DaeSlaveFeel]]

Tysus nods. "Exactly." [["Are they defenseless?"->DaeDefense]] [["Do they need to recharge?"->DaeRecharge]] [["Are the people within ever released?"->DaeRelease]] [["Are the people within still... there? Mentally?"->DaeMent]] [["Those are all the questions I have for now on their suits."->SargonDae]]

Tysus pauses, looking at you for a long moment. She seems liable to say something, but instead holds her tongue. [["Are they defenseless?"->DaeDefense]] [["Do they need to recharge?"->DaeRecharge]] [["Are the people within ever released?"->DaeRelease]] [["Are the people within still... there? Mentally?"->DaeMent]] [["Those are all the questions I have for now on their suits."->SargonDae]]

"Join them?" Tysus seems liable to scoff at such a suggestion, but after a moment she taps the table between you and her before answering. "I cannot speak to that. There are reports of people... disappearing after contact with Daemons. Of what happens to them? You must draw your own conclusions." [["Are they fully enclosed?"->DaeEnclose]] [["Are they defenseless?"->DaeDefense]] [["Do they need to recharge?"->DaeRecharge]] [["Are the people within still... there? Mentally?"->DaeMent]] [["Those are all the questions I have for now on their suits."->SargonDae]]

"That is hardly a concern of mine," Tysus shoots back, immediately. "You're just another offworld freewomb in over her head. This is bigger than you-- cracking the secrets that Daemons hold would be news throughout the planet. The scholar to do so would be instantly famous, her family exhalted, her work heavily funded." She smiles, a very rare expression to grace the face of Tysus Sargon. "And now I'm concerned you will endanger that. Perhaps I will ensure that you don't, hm? I certainly won't be helping you further, at the *very* least." (set: $SargonBother to true) [[That bitch. Leave her that instant. Return to your table.->LushHub]] [["Then let me ask another question, at least."->SargonHub]]

(if: $DrinkB is true)[Kell shrugs. "Freewombs gotta look out for each other, right?"](else:)[The woman shrugs. "Freewombs gotta look out for each other, right?"] (set: $PetrosWarn to true) She releases you afterward, giving a lazy salute before disappearing into the crowd. Her warning meanwhile lingers, everything you have heard of Petros painting him as severe. If you truly sought to pull access to the VIP area from him, it seems likely only a truly Torean approach and performance would suffice. *Have you learned enough to make the attempt?* [[Not yet, I can always come back. Step away.->LushHub]] [[I have. Now's the time.->PetrosStart]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/fdJVUi9.png" width="40%" height="40%"> Boldly striding forward, you approach Master Petros. Dressed in a laminate catsuit, he lounges on the cyan couch you had seen him seated upon from afar. In his gloved hand he swirls a just-finished shot, (if: $DrinkB is true or $DrinkC is true)[the oily black remnants you recognize as Daemon's Blood.](else:)[the oily black remnants unfamiliar to you.] Approaching from his side you're not able to make out much of his face, the gasmask he had lifted being slid down back into place at your approach He refrains entirely from acknowledging your presence, however. [[Step up directly before him.->PDirect]] [[Step up directly to him, and kneel.->PDirect2]] [[Stop a distance away, and kneel.->PKneel]] (if: $PlayE is true)[[[Step up direclty to him, and perform a reverence.->PRev]]]

Vividly you remember the warning you had been given about Master Petros. If you truly sought to pull access to the VIP area from him, it seems likely only a truly Torean approach and performance would suffice. *Have you learned enough to make the attempt?* [[Not yet, I can always come back. Step away.->LushHub]] [[I have. Now's the time.->PetrosStart]]

Stepping up directly before him, he seems to stare through you for a moment, but does eventually incline his mask to presumably meet your gaze. A long, slow sound follows-- something like a growl. (set: $PetrosA to it - 3) "Etiquette demands cunts like you kneel, at a distance, until your betters deem you worthy of notice." His voice is gravelly, the cadence strange and accented. It doesn't sound like any other Torean you have met, nor does it ring any bells within your punctured memories of the galaxy abroad. Whatever the case may be, you certainly have not started on the right foot. "Nor have you performed reverence. At the very least you can kneel *now.* Then you will answer: what do you want, cunt?" [[Kneel. "An audience."->PAudVWrong]] [[Kneel. "An audience, Master."->PAudRight]]

Stepping up directly before him, you kneel as he seems to stare through you for a moment, but does eventually lower his mask to presumably meet your gaze. A long, slow sound follows-- something like a growl. (set: $PetrosA to it - 1) "Etiquette demands cunts like you kneel, at a distance, until your betters deem you worthy of notice." His voice is gravelly, the cadence strange and accented. It doesn't sound like any other Torean you have met, nor does it ring any bells within your punctured memories of the galaxy abroad. Whatever the case may be, you certainly have not started on the right foot. "Nor have you performed reverence. Very poorly done. What do you want, cunt?" [["An audience."->PAudVWrong]] [["An audience, Master."->PAudRight]]

Instead of approaching the Master as an equal would do, you successfully note his show of denying you acknowledgement and instead take a kneeling position across from him-- allowing those passing by to cross in the space between. Several patrons do, a clearly tourist couple eying you as they go, then glancing at the imperious Petros. Their excited yet hushed tones suggest your very public display of submission was helping Torei live up to its infamous reputation. Eventually the Master shifts his mask, just a *bit*, as his gloved hand is lifted. Two fingers direct you to approach. [[Step up to him.->PKneelUp]] [[Step up to him and kneel.->PKneelKneel]] (if: $PlayE is true)[[[Step up to him and perform a Torean reverence.->PKneelRev]]]

Stepping up directly before him, you recall Isabella's training and perform a proper Torean reverence. Eyes down, you (if: $Sec is true)[lift your skirt, revealing your womanhood as you perform a neat curtsy.](else:)[place your hands at your sides then slide (if: $Slave is true)[both back,](else:)[one back, the other opening your catsuit's zipper before closing it again in one smooth motention,] as you work through a neat curtsy.] If you were hoping for approval you're sorely mistake however, as Petros seems to stare through you for a moment, but does eventually incline his mask to presumably meet your gaze. A long, slow sound follows-- something like a growl. (set: $PetrosA to it - 1) "Etiquette demands cunts like you kneel, at a distance, until your betters deem you worthy of notice." His voice is gravelly, the cadence strange and accented. It doesn't sound like any other Torean you have met, nor does it ring any bells within your punctured memories of the galaxy abroad. Whatever the case may be, you certainly have not started on the right foot. "At least you knew etiquette demands your reverence. What do you want, cunt?" [["An audience."->PAudVWrong]] [["An audience, Master."->PAudRight]]

He inhales slowly, the sound emphasized by his mask. Just why he wore the device isn't clear, the air within Lush was filled with neon and the scent of alcohol but that hardly demanded a full mask. Perhaps an aesthetic choice? You had seen him lift it. Either way, you had just made a mistake. "This is the *one* warning I will give you, cunt. You will address me as *Master* at every opportunity, or you will not address me at all. Is that clear?" (set: $PetrosA to it - 1) [["Yes."->PetrosFail]] [["Yes, Master."->PetrosNeg]]

He inhales slowly, the sound emphasized by his mask. Just why he wore the device isn't clear, the air within Lush was filled with neon and the scent of alcohol but that hardly demanded a full mask. Perhaps an aesthetic choice? You had seen him lift it. Either way, you chose your works carefully, and while Petros seems perhaps incapable of approval you at least avoid his displeasure. "Etiquette demands, if this is what you seek cunt, that you maintain such decorum throughout. You will append each response with 'Master', is that clear?" [["Yes."->PetrosFail]] [["Yes, Master."->PetrosNeg]]

Stepping up directly before him, he seems to stare through you for a moment, but does eventually incline his mask to presumably meet your gaze. A long, slow sound follows-- something like a growl. (set: $PetrosA to it - 1) "Etiquette demands cunts demonstrate their reverence upon first meeting." His voice is gravelly, the cadence strange and accented. It doesn't sound like any other Torean you have met, nor does it ring any bells within your punctured memories of the galaxy abroad. Whatever the case may be, you certainly have not started on the right foot. "And you shall not stand. Kneel. Then you will answer: what do you want, cunt?" [[Kneel. "An audience."->PAudVWrong]] [[Kneel. "An audience, Master."->PAudRight]]

Stepping up directly before him, he seems to stare through you for a moment, but does eventually incline his mask to presumably meet your gaze. A long, slow sound follows-- something like a growl. (set: $PetrosA to it - 1) "Etiquette demands cunts demonstrate their reverence upon first meeting." His voice is gravelly, the cadence strange and accented. It doesn't sound like any other Torean you have met, nor does it ring any bells within your punctured memories of the galaxy abroad. Whatever the case may be, you certainly have not started on the right foot. "At least you knew to kneel. What do you want, cunt?" [["An audience."->PAudVWrong]] [["An audience, Master."->PAudRight]]

Stepping up before him, you recall Isabella's training and perform a proper Torean reverence. Eyes down, you (if: $Sec is true)[lift your skirt, revealing your womanhood as you perform a neat curtsy.](else:)[place your hands at your sides then slide (if: $Slave is true)[both back,](else:)[one back, the other opening your catsuit's zipper before closing it again in one smooth motion,] as you work through a neat curtsy.] If you were hoping for approval you're sorely mistake however, as Petros seems to stare through you for a moment, but does eventually incline his mask to presumably meet your gaze. With that mask it's impossible to tell if he was pleased, but you get the sense he would have made displeasure very clear. Likely this is the best greeting you could have managed. "Speak to me, cunt." His voice is gravelly, the cadence strange and accented. It doesn't sound like any other Torean you have met, nor does it ring any bells within your punctured memories of the galaxy abroad. Whatever the case may be, you certainly have not started on the right foot. "Tell me what brings you to me." [["An audience."->PAudVWrong]] [["An audience, Master."->PAudRight]]

"Are we not, at our most basic, creatures seeking pleasure? Imagine how much pleasure could be found within one of those suits, where everything else is handled by the AI." [["Are they fully enclosed?"->DaeEnclose]] [["Are they defenseless?"->DaeDefense]] [["Do they need to recharge?"->DaeRecharge]] [["Are the people within ever released?"->DaeRelease]] [["Those are all the questions I have for now on their suits."->SargonDae]]

Petros allows you to go no further. Whatever progress you had been making with him is broken, his growl announcing it before he points over your shoulder-- back to rest of Lush. "You are meant to please me and you have not, cunt. I will not provide what you seek, I will not give you further audience. Only your lengthy penance would sate me, and there is not an officer of Truancy here to lock you in chains. How unfortunate. Perhaps you should leave before one arrives." (set: $PetrosTry to true)(set: $PetrosFail to true) He turns away from you. "Leave me." [[You'll never get access to the VIP area from him now.->LushHub]]

"This is proper, as etiquette demands." His repetition seems strange-- perhaps the Basic dialect was not his first language, and it's some strange remnant of translation? It would explain the accent. What isn't explained is the abruptness that follows. "I will not give you an audience. I do not give things freely to (if: $Slave is true)[slaves," he says, noting your uniform.](else:)[freewombs," he says, noting your outfit.] [["Why is that, Master?"->PetrosWhyFail]] (if: $Slave is true)[[["I am a freewomb, Master."->PetrosSlaveEx]]](else:)[[["Then I request an opportunity to earn it, Master."->PetrosNeg2]]]

(set: $PetrosA to it - 1)His gloved hand, stretched out atop the lounging couch, curls into a fist. "Etiquette demands someone of your station not question their superiors, cunt. You have requested I give you an audience, I have denied this request. That is how things are." [["Just allow to me to explain!"->PetrosFail]] [["Then I request an opportunity to earn it, Master."->PetrosNeg2]]

"Are you not?" His gruff, dismissive tone holds, but curiosity is demonstrated by the way he holds a hand out to your kneeling form. "Show me your ID, cunt." (set: $PetrosA to it + 1) You provide it, demonstrating your transient status. Freewomb, but wearing the regalia of a slave. His approval is immediate. "I abhor freewombs, but you have sought your proper place regardless. Collared, fully coated in laminate. These things are best in life for a cunt. Etiquette demands I applaud your conviction. Yet I still reject your audience." [["Why is that, Master?"->PetrosWhyFail]] [["Then I request an opportunity to earn it, Master."->PetrosNeg2]]

"The Torean way." He nods. "Presented in the proper fashion, by a woman, on her knees. Etiquette demands I consider this proposition." He pauses, his mask making it impossible to understand exactly his intent. Was Petros staring at you? Could his eyes be closed in thought? You have only his words to go on, when he speaks again. "I will accept this, if you accept my demands. A contract of submission, as is our ancient ways. That you are an Offworlder means nothing. Either you will please me and earn your audience, or more likely you will not and leave me be. Either way I am satisfied." He flags down one of the serving girls, who soon returns with a circlet of steel. A collar. "You will be contracted for an hour, in submission to me. I will use you as I please. If you displease me, I will cast you out. Is this understood?" [["I'm going to need more details then that, Master."->PetrosNegNo]] [["Yes, Master."->Neg3]]

(set: $PetrosA to it - 1)"I need not explain myself to you, cunt." His tone is sharp, dismissive. "Either you accept, or you leave me be. Or perhaps you have performed so poorly I will discard you already-- as etiquette may demand." (if: $PetrosA is < -3)[[["Yes, Master."->PetrosFail]]](else:)[[["Yes, Master."->Neg3]]]

Reaching forward, his gloved hands approach with the collar. Pressing it against your throat, he presses the back together-- which snaps shut with a dramatic *snap*. "You will stand," is his first command. "Let me see the slave I have purchased for my time." [[Stand, and present yourself for inspection.->Neg4Fail]] [[Stand, and present yourself with flair. Chest out, legs spread.->Neg4]]

Petros allows you to go no further. Whatever progress you had been making with him is broken, his growl announcing it before he points over your shoulder-- back to rest of Lush. "You are meant to please me and you have not, cunt. I will not provide what you seek, I will not give you further audience. Only your lengthy penance would sate me, and there is not an officer of Truancy here to lock you in chains. How unfortunate. Perhaps you should leave before one arrives." (set: $PetrosTry to true)(set: $PetrosFail to true) He turns away from you, as your collar disengages. All that had occurred thus far is undone. "Leave me." Perhaps he was impossible to please. [[You'll never get access to the VIP area from him now.->LushHub]]

The Master rises himself, a good six inches taller then you despite the heels you wear. For the first time you can truly see how muscular he is beneath his laminate, broad shoulders and a tight abdomen providing a very masculine silhouette. (if: $Blue is true)["Blue is an appealing color," he begins, hands landing upon your waist. There they find the belt around your narrowest point, the metallic D-rings providing an easy anchor for his grip. "And you are adorned as a woman should be, in collar and cuffs, ready for restraint. This is good." He pulls you in closer, chest to chest, your soft femininity molding to his strict masculinity. "I approve of your catsuit, slave. It demonstrates the only traits you have of value to me: a pleasing form, full chest, wide hips."](if: $Smoke is true)["I do not generally find darker colors appealing on my slaves," he notes, hands landing upon your waist. There they find the belt around your narrowest point, the metallic D-rings providing an easy anchor for his grip. "Bright colors suit your kind better, demonstrate the traits through which you have value: a pleasing form, full chest, wide hips. But the transparency is an acceptable touch, something well suited to a whore." He pulls you in closer, chest to chest, your soft femininity molding to his strict masculinity. "I approve of your catsuit, slave.](if: $Brand is true)["I see that you are keen to demonstrate you are a whore," he notes, hands landing upon your waist. There they find your corset, it's tight embrace feeling so natural by now. "You have sold your body for advertisement. Shameful." He pulls you in closer, chest to chest, your soft femininity molding to his strict masculinity. "I approve of your catsuit, slave. It demonstrates the only traits you have of value to me: a pleasing form, full chest, wide hips."](if: $Sec is true)["You are trying to be what you are not," he begins, hands landing upon your waist. There they find the belt of your peplum skirt, its jaunty pleats accentuating you pleasantly. "You are best as a slave of pleasure, not work of the office as you are dressed. A catsuit would suit you better, demonstrate your submission. Why else would you have come to me if this is not what you desire?" He pulls you in closer, chest to chest, your soft femininity molding to his strict masculinity. "Regardless, I approve of your dress, slave. It demonstrates the only traits you have of value to me: a pleasing form, full chest, wide hips."](if: $Slave is true)["I see in you a deep desire," he begins, hands landing upon your waist. There they find your corset, it's tight embrace feeling so natural by now. "You struggle against your liberty, seeking a collar. This would suit you, much as your uniform already does. Is the mask not exquisite? To fight for every breath..." He pulls you in closer, chest to chest, your soft femininity molding to his strict masculinity. "I approve of your catsuit, slave. It demonstrates the only traits you have of value to me: a pleasing form, full chest, wide hips-- and without identity. Just another uniformed slave, yes?"] (if: $Wet is true)[Sliding his grip down, he lands upon the bright bands encircling each of your thighs, their lewd declarations announcing to the world your debasement as eagerly as the collar you now wore temporarily. "You are my (if: $CorSlave is true)[wet slut](else:)[fuck toy] now."] (if: $Ballet is true)["And these shoes you wear," he leans back, allowing a glance down at the ballet boots you balance upon. Their strict, uncompromising grip upon your posture had almost become second nature, you realize. When had that come to pass? "This has my approval. All cunts should be heeled, and yours are a feat."] (if: $Plugs is true)[Dangerously, his hands slide down, one resting on your hip as the other slips between your thighs. There he finds their meeting, his palm immediately landing upon the plug sealed within. He chuckles. "You could not help yourself, could you, slave? This is proper. A slave's holes are meant to be used." For a moment you sense his hidden gaze settling upon your singular *empty* hole. The one hidden behind full lips.] (if: $DrinkB is true or $DrinkC is true)[[[He looks to your eyes, finding pupils still ringed in violet.->DrinkCheck]]](else:)[[[He steps back.->Neg5]]]

Petros' displeasure is made immediately clear, two fingers rising on the hand stretched atop the couch, pointing your way. "Etiquette demands my slave present herself *properly.* Legs spread, chest out. Demonstrate your sexuality." (set: $PetrosA to it - 1) (if: $PetrosA is < -3)[[[You appear to reached the end of Petros' patience.->PetrosFail2]]](else:)[[[Stand, and present yourself with flair. Chest out, legs spread.->Neg4]]]

(set: $PetrosA to it + 1)"Daemon's Blood," he identifies immediately. "This pleases me. If you had any misplaced dignity, I would suspect it to be pushed down by running Blood. Is it not a rush, to feel it burn within you?" [[He steps back.->Neg5]]

"I will make use of you," he concludes. "Return to your knees, slave. Hands upon your thighs, palms up." [[Move quickly, to follow his command. "Yes, Master."->Neg6]] [[Move slowly, allowing him to observe your submission. "Yes, Master."->Neg6]]

Moving into the commanded posture, Petros observes you carefully. Your decision clearly does not invoke his ire, and you make sure to further that by adjusting your posture once kneeling. Legs spread, back straight, eyes down, hands upon your thighs. Petros calls over a servant slave again in the meantime, and you're given a moment to reflect-- what would your former self, before the Mem-Burn had ravished your memories, had thought of you now? Wearing glossy laminate, kneeling before a man, wearing his collar? Would she be terrified? Excited? (if: $Smoke is true)["It is good that you came to be with thigh cuffs," he observes, breaking your reverie. In his hand are he holds four more such restraints. "You will buckle one set around your ankles, the other upon your wrists. Then I will join them. Is this clear?"](if: $Sec is true)["Slide your skirt up," he observes, breaking your reverie. In his hands he holds a set of six laminate cuffs. "You will buckle one set around your thighs, another around your ankles, the last upon your wrists. Then I will join them. Is this clear?"](if: $Slave is true or $Brand is true)["Your posture pleases me," he observes, breaking your reverie. In his hands he holds a set of six laminate cuffs. "You will buckle one set around your thighs, another around your ankles, the last upon your wrists. Then I will join them. Is this clear?"](if: $Blue is true)["It is good that you came to be with wrist cuffs," he observes, breaking your reverie. In his hand are he holds four more such restraints. "You will buckle one set around your ankles, the other upon your thighs. Then I will join them. Is this clear?"] [["Yes, Master." Buckle them tightly.->Neg7]] [["Yes, Master." Buckle them extremely tightly.->Neg7Fail]]

As was becoming usual, Petros watches your execution of his commands carefully. When he notices your careful tightening of the prescribed restraints he nods. "Conviction pleases, but there are limits, slave. Etiquette demands I be strict, and that I shall." Reaching down, he uses short lengths of chain to link your ankles to your thighs, then your thighs to your wrists. Once installed, you're effectively forced to remain kneeling. Incapable of rising, incapable of raising a hand in your own defense. Helpess, and still maintaining your posture-- pushing out your chest, keeping your eyes down. A collared slave, ready for use and abuse. (if: $Slave is true)[[[Petros' hands land upon your laminate covered head.->MaskRemoveP]]](else:)[[[Petros stands before you.->Neg8]]]

As was becoming usual, Petros watches your execution of his commands carefully. When he notices your extraordinary tightening of the prescribed restraints he intervenes. "Conviction pleases, but there are limits, slave. To do as you have done is to suggest I may not restrain you properly. This is most untrue. Etiquette demands I be strict." Reaching down, he uses short lengths of chain to link your ankles to your thighs, then your thighs to your wrists. Once installed, you're effectively forced to remain kneeling. Incapable of rising, incapable of raising a hand in your own defense. Helpess, and still maintaining your posture-- pushing out your chest, keeping your eyes down. A collared slave, ready for use and abuse. (if: $Slave is true)[[[Petros' hands land upon your laminate covered head.->MaskRemoveP]]](else:)[[[Petros stands before you.->Neg8]]]

"Breath regulation is an art," he explains, even as his hands begin working over the harness holding your mask to your face. Where locks intercede, he proves capable of undoing them with a tap of his *Glass*. "But your mask will be removed for what comes next. Your hood, of course, will not be." He pulls the heavy laminate mask free, but indeed your head is still covered in the black laminate hood that exposed only your eyes and lips, pinpricks allowing breath through your nose. "The mask will be reinstalled upon completion, or your failure. Is that clear?" [["Yes, Master."->Neg8]]

Your sharp posture, now restrained as much as enforced by the cuffs and chains maintaining it, is met with Petros' hand landing upon your head. There he (if: $Slave is true)[runs along the gleaming laminate of your hood, any hint of your hair hidden by the uniform.](else:)[runs his gloved fingers through your hair.] Eventually he reaches your cheek, the perhaps surprising gentle sensuality from the otherwise gruff man approaching your mouth. [[Remain still.->Neg9Still]] [[Open your mouth into a perfect 'O'.->Neg9O]] [[Suck upon his finger that approaches.->Neg9Suck]]

His frequent talk of etiquette and an honestly imposing demeanor keep you still as his gloved finger finds your lips. Gliding gently atop them, he circles your mouth, his mask still denying you a true sense of his intention. Petros was proving to be just as mysterious as you had been warned. "There are many slaves on this planet," he speaks aloud. "But you are still a beauty among them, (if: $Slave is true)[even hooded as you are, ]and for this you should be lauded. Laminate and bondage suit you." He pulls his hand back. "Does bondage please you, slave?" [["...no, Master."->Neg10No]] [["Yes, Master."->Neg10Yes]] [["It is how I best serve, Master."->Neg10Extra]]

You open your mouth slightly, allowing a submissive expression to shift your lips into an inviting '0' as his finger approaches. Gliding gently atop them, he circles your mouth, his mask still denying you a true sense of his intention. Petros was proving to be just as mysterious as you had been warned. "There are many slaves on this planet," he speaks aloud. "But you are still a beauty among them, (if: $Slave is true)[even hooded as you are, ]and for this you should be lauded. Laminate and bondage suit you." He pulls his hand back. "Does bondage please you, slave?" [["...no, Master."->Neg10No]] [["Yes, Master."->Neg10Yes]] [["It is how I best serve, Master."->Neg10Extra]]

You open your mouth slightly, allowing a submissive expression to shift your lips into an inviting '0' as his finger approaches. Gliding gently atop them, he circles your mouth, eventually entering as you eagerly suck upon the laminate digit. His mask still denying you a true sense of his intention. Petros was proving to be just as mysterious as you had been warned. "There are many slaves on this planet," he speaks aloud. "But you are still a beauty among them, (if: $Slave is true)[even hooded as you are, ]and for this you should be lauded. Laminate and bondage suit you." He pulls his hand back, wiping your own saliva upon your chin. "Does bondage please you, slave?" [["...no, Master."->Neg10No]] [["Yes, Master."->Neg10Yes]] [["It is how I best serve, Master."->Neg10Extra]]

You shift uncomfortably in your restraints, trying hard to achieve your goal of an audience despite his increasingly strict demands on your freedom of action. When questioned on the topic you choose the truth, unpleasing as it most certainly is to him. (set: $PetrosA to it - 1) "The Offworlder struggles to understand," he notes, perhaps more disappointed then angry. Even so, his hands return to your bound form, drifting to your shoulders. (if: $PetrosA is < -3)[[[You appear to reached the end of Petros' patience.->PetrosFail2]]](else:)[[[Press your chest out further.->Neg11Yes]] [[Remain still.->Neg12Mid]] [[You cannot stand his fondling. Shy away.->Neg12No]]]

Resting comfortably in your bondage, you make sure to keep your eyes down as you respond. How else could you explain submitting to such treatment, kneeling bound in a public club, a collar tight around your throat? Petros notes your acknowledgement with a curt nod, even as his hands return to your bound form, drifting to your shoulders. [[Press your chest out further.->Neg11Yes]] [[Remain still.->Neg12Mid]] [[You cannot stand his fondling. Shy away.->Neg12No]]

Resting comfortably in your bondage, you cannot help but smile as you respond with enthusiasm. How else could you explain submitting to such treatment, kneeling bound in a public club, a collar tight around your throat? "It is indeed," Petros murmurs, even as his hands return to your bound form, drifting to your shoulders. [[Press your chest out further.->Neg11Yes]] [[Remain still.->Neg12Mid]] [[You cannot stand his fondling. Shy away.->Neg12No]]

You have experienced enough to know that men like Petros do not settle long merely upon your shoulders, and thus thrust out your breasts as best you could once his gloves start moving down your arms-- then bridge the gap inward, to your chest. Your willingness to present your body is met with an approving sound from the man's mask. His hands move again, fondling your breasts. (if: $Sec is true)[Your bodice hugs them tightly, the support provided meaning you had never needed a bra in such an outfit.](else:)[Your catsuit is well tailored, the breast cups that held your chest providing as much lift and support as they do display.] (if: $Pierced is true)[As his fingers find your nipples Petros pauses, having landed upon the steel studs piercing each. "You have been improved," he notes with satisfaction. "A small improvement, but this pleases. Do you enjoy them?" [["Yes, Master. I enjoy my piercings."->NegPierceCheckNo]] [["No, Master. They were forced upon me."->NegPierceCheckYes]]](else:)[As his fingers find your nipples Petros pauses, gently kneading them between forefinger and thumb. Your body instantly reacts, nipples growing hard. It a reaction he seems pleased with, his mask nodding as he stands back up to his full height. "Are you ready to please me further, slave?" [["Yes, Master."->Neg13]] [["How may I please, Master?"->Neg13Fail]]]

You have experienced enough to know that men like Petros do not settle long merely upon your shoulders, and thus expect what comes next-- his gloves start moving down your arms then bridge the gap inward, to your chest. Your continued stillness seems a proper middle road between reluctance likely to draw his ire, and an eagerness that would have been undignified. His hands move again, fondling your breasts. (if: $Sec is true)[Your bodice hugs them tightly, the support provided meaning you had never needed a bra in such an outfit.](else:)[Your catsuit is well tailored, the breast cups that held your chest providing as much lift and support as they do display.] (if: $Pierced is true)[As his fingers find your nipples Petros pauses, having landed upon the steel studs piercing each. "You have been improved," he notes with satisfaction. "A small improvement, but this pleases. Do you enjoy them?" [["Yes, Master. I enjoy my piercings."->NegPierceCheckNo]] [["No, Master. They were forced upon me."->NegPierceCheckYes]]](else:)[As his fingers find your nipples Petros pauses, gently kneading them between forefinger and thumb. Your body instantly reacts, nipples growing hard. It a reaction he seems pleased with, his mask nodding as he stands back up to his full height. "Are you ready to please me further, slave?" [["Yes, Master."->Neg13]] [["How may I please, Master?"->Neg13Fail]]]

You have experienced enough to know that men like Petros do not settle long merely upon your shoulders, and thus are ready to shy away as best you could once his gloves start moving down your arms-- then bridge the gap inward, to your chest. Your hesitance earns an immediate growl from the masked man. (set: $PetrosA to it - 1) (if: $PetrosA is < -3)[[[You appear to reached the end of Petros' patience.->PetrosFail2]]](else:)["Etiquette demands that your body is for my sole pleasure, while you wear my collar and seek my favor. This should be remembered. You will not last long otherwise." His hands move again, fondling your breasts. (if: $Sec is true)[Your bodice hugs them tightly, the support provided meaning you had never needed a bra in such an outfit.](else:)[Your catsuit is well tailored, the breast cups that held your chest providing as much lift and support as they do display.] (if: $Pierced is true)[As his fingers find your nipples Petros pauses, having landed upon the steel studs piercing each. "You have been improved," he notes with satisfaction. "A small improvement, but this pleases. Do you enjoy them?" [["Yes, Master. I enjoy my piercings."->NegPierceCheckNo]] [["No, Master. They were forced upon me."->NegPierceCheckYes]]](else:)[As his fingers find your nipples Petros pauses, gently kneading them between forefinger and thumb. Your body instantly reacts, nipples growing hard. It a reaction he seems pleased with, his mask nodding as he stands back up to his full height. "Are you ready to please me further, slave?" [["Yes, Master."->Neg13]] [["How may I please, Master?"->Neg13Fail]]]]

It may have been the truth, but that doesn't mean Petros liked to hear it. (set: $PetrosA to it - 1) (if: $PetrosA is < -3)[[[You appear to reached the end of Petros' patience.->PetrosFail2]]](else:)["Nipple piercings increase your sensitivity, and provide a multitude of ways to reward or punish you. They are a proper improvement for most any slave," he lectures, even as he shifts his hands upon your chest, gently kneading your nipples between forefinger and thumb. Your body instantly reacts, nipples growing hard. It a reaction he seems pleased with, his mask nodding as he stands back up to his full height. "Are you ready to please me further, slave?" [["Yes, Master."->Neg13]] [["How may I please, Master?"->Neg13Fail]]]

You may not have awoken today so pierced, but you had come to enjoy the sensation of your piercings tugging occasionally upon the laminate covering your chest. Knowing that you had been permanently altered to Torei's whims was never far from your mind. "Nipple piercings increase your sensitivity, and provide a multitude of ways to reward or punish you. They are a proper improvement for most any slave," Petros agrees, even as he shifts his hands upn your chest, gently kneading your nipples between forefinger and thumb. Your body instantly reacts, nipples growing hard. It a reaction he seems pleased with, his mask nodding as he stands back up to his full height. "Are you ready to please me further, slave?" [["Yes, Master."->Neg13]] [["How may I please, Master?"->Neg13Fail]]

"Good girl." Now standing at his full, imperious height, Petros reaches down to the joining of his own legs. Women such as yourself were smooth between the legs, laminate and most frequently a zipper preserving your dignity. But Petros is male, and his codpiece already bulges with potent masculinity. Much like a shield the thick laminate covering him is held in place by four straps, which he undoes to reveal his cock beneath. His codpiece had matched the color of his suit, and while his cock is still sheathed in laminate it's of a very different hue-- pure black, an ebony obelisk of considerable length that only grows larger as his gloved hand strokes it, bringing out his full potential. [[Wait for direction.->Neg14Wait]] [[Open your mouth.->Neg14]]

(set: $PetrosA to it - 1)"You forget your place," Petros scolds, as if talking to a child instead of a fully grown woman. "You are not question me, you are to serve, as my slave. Is this clear?" (if: $PetrosA is < -3)[[[You appear to reached the end of Petros' patience.->PetrosFail2]]](else:)[[["Yes, Master."->Neg13]]]

With one hand still stroking his shaft, his other reaches out (if: $Slave is true)[to settle upon your laminate-hooded head.](else:)[to seize firmly your hair, giving him control of your head.] "I will be using your mouth," he explains, without a hint of care for your thoughts on the matter. "This will satisfy our contract. Prove yourself capable of pleasing me fully, and etiquette demands I give you the audience I seek." His mask looks down, to your bound and kneeling form. "Open your mouth when you are ready, slave." [["Yes, Master." Open.->Neg15]] [["I can't do this!"->PetrosFail2]]

"Observe how quick you are to part your lips at the sight of a cock," he muses. (if: $Wet is true and $CorSlave is true)["Just as your thighs and suit and declares. Slut."](if: $Wet is true and $CorSlave is false)["Just as your thighs and suit declares. Fuck toy."] With one hand still stroking his shaft, his other reaches out (if: $Slave is true)[to settle upon your laminate-hooded head.](else:)[to seize firmly your hair, giving him control of your head.] "I will be using your mouth," he explains, without a hint of care for your thoughts on the matter. "This will satisfy our contract. Prove yourself capable of pleasing me fully, and etiquette demands I give you the audience I seek." His mask looks down, to your bound and kneeling form. "Are you ready?" [["Yes, Master."->Neg15]] [["I can't do this!"->PetrosFail2]]

In full view of most of the Club, you kneel patiently in your bondage as Petros pushes his manhood towards your waiting lips. Fully engorged, he enters your mouth slowly-- the smooth laminate that covers his shaft feeling almost slippery against your waiting tongue. You had seen the size of his manhood, but it's another experience entirely to have it pressed entirely into your mouth. Inch by inch, his pelvis only finally hilts against your lips *just* as you feel on the verge of choking. [[Pull your head back.->Neg16Fail]] [[Suck gently on his member.->Neg16]] [[Look up and moan happily.->Neg16Up]]

Leaning against the wall nearest the door, you observe for a few minutes, getting a sense for the traffic around you-- and how often the door itself was used. With Lush's nightly activities in full swing it seems most of the staff is out working the floor however, something you hope will carry forward into the backrooms themselves. When a passing group of tourists provide a proper bit of cover you break from your position, heading directly for the door. (if: $Ballet is true)[Your ballet boots make a rapid approach impossible, but you manage as best you can.] (if: $Plugs is true)[Such effort shifts the plugs sealed inside your lower holes, but you endure, biting down on a bit of a moan.] [[Reaching the door, you push it open and pass through...->BR3]]

And to your great relief, you do not come face to face with another living soul. Instead you're greeted with a small antechamber, a glass dispay the only real decoration having been divided into a number of quadrants in which names have been stenciled: Thiva, Sparti, Cherish, among others. One more name is written in red, unassigned to any of the sections: Akrai. An arrow drawn from the name leads to a label of "Punishment". Otherwise the small room is mostly barren, although another door is on the far side of the room. [[Make for the door.->BRHub]]

The room that greets you is larger then the antechamber you first entered through, but not by much. Lockers run along the walls, one of them hanging open revealing a uniform much like those you had seen the bouncers outside the Club wearing. Presumably this was where they came to store any personal effects while on the job. More importantly, three doors lead from the room, and these are each labeled. [[Enter the door to your left, labeled STORAGE.->BRStorage]] [[Enter the door directly before you, labeled SLAVE QUARTERS.->BRSlaves]] [[Enter the door to your right, labeled VIP STAIRCASE.->BRVIP]]

Exploring the area marked as storage, you're perhaps not unsurprised to find an assortment of supplies for the Club-- all of them neatly labeled. Most appear to be lights and tablecloths, alongside other decorations capable of transforming Lush into any number of themes. One area is marked *A Night in Hell*, another *Damsels in Distress* and a third *Polar Expedition.* It appears you caught the Club on a rather tame night, all things considered. [[Return the way you came in.->BRHub]] [[Check along the bottom shelves.->BRStorageB]] [[Check along the upper shelves.->BRStorageU]] [[Examine the posters rolled up in the corner.->BRStorageP]]

You enter into what you quickly recognize must serve as a staging room of sorts, the slaves owned by the club. Several desks are up against the walls, mirrors atop them surrounded by lights to ease the application or adjustment of makeup, or one's wardrobe. Larger full length mirrors at each corner provide much the same purporse, as demonstrated by the bottles of *Laminate Shine* you find on nearby tables. More labeled doors await you.(if: $BRGag is false)[ The quiet allows you for the first time to hear something, though-- the unmistakable sound of gagged moans from the door to your right.] [[Take the door to your left, labeled WARDROBE DEVICE.->BRWardrobe]] [[Take the door directly before you, labeled SLAVE LOUNGE.->BRLounge]] [[Take the door to your right, labeled CELLS.->BRCells]] [[Take the door behind you, labeled ENTRANCE.->BRHub]]

Less a room and more the landing of a staircase, you can see steps curling upwards-- clearly rising to what had to be a back entrance to the VIP balcony on the floor above! Unfortunately cage like bars intercede, blocking your path to the staircase proper. A door allows passage through, but it is closed-- and when your hand tests the handle you find it locked. That explains the pinpad set directly next to the handle, only a password needed to gain you access to your goal. (if: $BRVIP is false)[Unfortunately, you have not come across any such password in your explorations.](if: $BRVIP is true)[The code Akrai has given you is fresh in your mind, however-- you need only enter it.] [[Turn back, the way you came.->BRHub]] (if: $BRVIP is true)[[[Input the code: 6195->BRVIPGo]]]

The code Akrai had given you blinks yellow upon the indicator light for a moment, a concerning long moment, but to your great relief it does eventually allow you access. Pushing through the cell-like door, you close it behind you and begin to accend. It's neither a hard climb nor all that hard to determine why such a staircase existed-- clearly Lush's slaves occasionally had need to move between the two levels without being observed, or at the very least dealing with the hassle of the patrons on the lower floor. A second door meets you at the top, which you slide open carefully-- revealing the balcony overlooking the first floor one way, and a dim hallway the other. You've made it! [[Step out.->VIPStart]]

Entering the room, you come upon a rare thing indeed-- something your amnesia-wracked mind can recognize. The Wardrobe Device before you looks a bit different then the one you encountered at the Hotel this morning, but the *glass* display built into the front is running on the same operating system from before. There are also several cases stacked to the side of the room, their exteriors either a particularly shiny plastic or (more likely) a utilitarian form of laminate. [[Approach the Wardrobe Device.->BRWardrobe2]] [[Examine the cases.->BRCases]] [[Return to the previous room.->BRSlaves]]

Passing through the door marked SLAVE LOUNGE, you enter into what you quickly determine to be the actual living quarters of Lush's slaves. It's remarkably well furnished, the rather large room having tall vaulted ceilings, a small balcony atop centered on what appeared to be a fireplace of sorts. Vid-screens and comfortable looking couches occupy the lower floor, along with a kitchenette, separated by an island-like counter of considerable length. Thankfully the room remains unoccupied, for the time being at least. [[Return the way you came.->BRSlaves]] [[Check out the firepit on the overlook.->BRLoungeFire]] [[Check out the kitchen area.->BRLoungeKitchen]] [[Check out the area near the vid-screens.->BRLoungeScreens]]

Stepping through the doorway, you find the 'Cells' immediately: roughly a dozen cages, tall enough to stand in and each outfitted with a bed. These have to be the manner in which Club Lush kept its slaves at night, you imagine, a handful of personal accoutrements decorating each-- alongside a name. Third on your left, you notice Cherish's cell. (if: $BRGag is false)[The sounds you had heard are louder here, and its in the furthest cell you see someone moving-- a form of red and black laminate, wriggling to the sound of lurid moans atop the bed which she is strapped to. The name on the cell is *Akrai*.](if: $BRGag is true and $BRVIP is false)[Akrai remains strapped to her bed in the very last cell, the sounds of her torture all the more lewd given you have removed her gag.](if: $BRGag is true and $BRVIP is true)[Akrai remains in her cell for the time being, catching her breath. Freed from her restraints, you imagine she won't be lingering much longer.] (if: $BRGag is false)[[[Make your way towards the writhing figure.->BRAkrai]]] (if: $BRGag is true and $BRVIP is false)[[[Return to the bound form of Akrai.->BRAkrai]]] [[Return the way you came.->BRSlaves]]

(set: $PetrosA to it - 1)Your attempt to pull back is halted by his hand on your head, holding you firmly upon his cock. His reprimand is simply put. "Not yet." (if: $PetrosA is < -3)[[[You appear to reached the end of Petros' patience.->PetrosFail2]]](else:)[[[Suck gently on his member.->Neg16]] [[Look up and moan happily.->Neg16Up]]]

Without direction otherwise you wisely default to your temporary Master's pleasure, pressing your tongue up against the bottom of his shaft as your lips suckle around it. Petros allows it for some time before he finally relents, using his hand upon your head to guide you slowly back off his cock. There he releases you, as dangerous a proposition as it is liberating. Now you would need to choose for yourself how best to approach him. [[Use your lips to gently tease his member.->Neg17Tease]] [[Take him into your mouth again, quickly.->Neg17Fail]] [[Take him into your mouth again, slowly.->Neg17Slow]]

(set: $PetrosA to it - 1)Meeting his eyes directly is impossible given his mask, but you look up nevertheless, moaning lewdly with cock all but down your throat. His reprimand is immediate. "Eyes down, slave." (if: $PetrosA is < -3)[[[You appear to reached the end of Petros' patience.->PetrosFail2]]](else:)[[[Pull your head back.->Neg16Fail]] [[Suck gently on his member.->Neg16]]]

*Your search for a means of accessing Club Lush's VIP area have brought you here, deep in the heart of the establishment's slave quarters. Finding an outfit that matched the uniform you had seen those owned by Lush wearing could undoubtedly be accomplished by a Wardrobe Device such as this. The ability to easily cycle girls through outfits seemed a likely boon for any such Club, after all. And with such an outfit you could walk right up into the VIP area.* (if: $BRKey is false)[Unfortunately stepping up to the machine's control *glass* immediately prompts you with a demand for a "Slave or Management Keycard." That's something you do not have, locking you out of the device's functions.](if: $BRKey is true)[Stepping up to the machine's control *glass*, you're immediately met with a prompt demanding a "Slave or Management Keycard" for authorization purposes. Having found one of the *Slave* variety, you simply press the card against the screen-- to which it responds with a cheery ding.] (if: $BRKey is true)[[[Welcome, User!->BRWardrobe3]]] [[Step back from the machine.->BRWardrobe]]

Opening the topmost case you're met with a view of glossy laminate. Pulling forth the first bit your hands seize up reveals it to be a pre-formed outfit, a leotard of cyan so bright as to be almost neon unto itself. Lacking anything for the legs, the arms would be covered by sleeves. On the back and framing the peephole opening built into the chest are Club Lush's logo. You conclude this must one of the relatively rare cases where the Wardrobe Device nearby couldn't easily recreate the oufit, probably due to the particular brightness of the laminate, and as such had been crafted in a more traditional manner and then shipped in. [[Search through another of the cases.->BRCase2]] [[Step back from the cases.->BRWardrobe]]

A splash of color slides across the screen, and with it comes unbridled access to the Wardrobe Device. Unlike the machine you utilized at the hotel, this one appears to have full access to a potential inventory of outfits several thousand pages long. Luckily for you, however, the uniform you're looking for is highlighted as the very first entry. Selecting it prompts for biometrics, namely a scan of your eye. [[Lean in and let it scan.->BRWardrobe4]] [[Step back. Let me think about this.->BRWardrobe2]]

The second case is a set of accessories, the coloration matching the bright cyan of the first. Cuffs, belts, gags and the like. [[Search through another of the cases.->BRCase3]] [[Step back from the cases.->BRWardrobe]]

Opening another case reveals it full of boots, all of them heeled-- although several simply feature the raised profile, lacking a heel itself. If you remember correctly, those were often called gravity heels. [[Dig through this case.->BRCase5]] [[Step back from the cases.->BRWardrobe]]

Instead of immediately returning his cock to your throat, you instead shift your head to approach slightly off-center. Pressing your lips against his member, you kiss the laminate-coated shaft, teasing it as your tongue emerges afterward, wrapping around as much as it could. Above you Petros grunts a bit, perhaps surprised. He certainly approves, as indicated by the way he nods. "Good slave." [[Take him into your mouth again, quickly.->Neg17Fail]] [[Take him into your mouth again, slowly.->Neg17Slow]]

(set: $PetrosA to it - 1)Your enthusiasm is immediately noted by the male reigning above you, but his hand intercedes, halting you halfway up his shaft. "No." That you had chosen poorly is indicated by the way his mask shakes back and forth, and he forces you back off his cock. "There is no grace in this." (if: $PetrosA is < -3)[[[You appear to reached the end of Petros' patience.->PetrosFail2]]](else:)[He releases you. "Slower." [[Use your lips to gently tease his member.->Neg17Tease]] [[Take him into your mouth again, slowly.->Neg17Slow]]]

Slowly, carefully, you move to return Petros' cock to your throat. Without his guiding hand to all but force you it's almost an entirely different experience the second time, the decision to accept such degrading treament utterly yours alone to make. And you do make it, pressing your head forward, taking his manhood into your mouth until you're all but choking on it. The Torean Master watches you intently, the bondage you're in maintaining your posture so that he need only focus solely on the work of your lips and tongue. He seemed a particularly conservative sort, even by Torean standards-- perhaps that explained his fascination with your technique. Was this story, the woman upon her knees serving a Master, as old as Torei itself? [[Slowly you pull back out.->Neg18]]

Having made your first stroke of your own accord, you now try to settle on a pace that would please the man. On one hand, eagerness in submission seemed oft rewarded on this planet. On the other, he seemed inclined to prefer a slower-- more sensual approach. The only thing you are sure of is that you don't have long to decide-- already his hand reaches out, intending to guide you back to him. [[Keep it very slow. Really tease him.->Neg19Tease]] [[Keep it slow, work him over carefully.->Neg19Slow]] [[Keep it brisk, you don't want to bore him.->Neg19Brisk]] [[Take him as hard as you can, like the fucktoy you are.->Neg19Fast]]

You decide upon a truly *slow* approach, often breaking from your stroking motions along his cock to kiss the shaft, or to play with his balls with your tongue upon hilting upon him completely. It's a choice he allows, observing you carefully as you ever so slowly edge him towards climax. (set: $PetrosA to it - 1) Yet it is not an experience he allows to go on as long as you intended. Your reverie is broken by his hand once more landing upon your (if: $Slave is true)[laminated hooded head](else:)[head, painfully grabbing you by the hair.] (if: $PetrosA is < -3)[[[You appear to reached the end of Petros' patience.->PetrosFail2]]](else:)["Do you think me another slave, to tease in this manner? You are not my soubrette, slave." Forcibly, he drives you hard back onto his cock, directing a much quicker pace to make up for the lost time. [[[You try to keep up.->Neg20]]]]

You decide upon a *slow* approach, keeping your lips formally upon his cock with each backstroke, but moving at a careful, languid pace. It's a choice he allows, observing you carefully as you ever so slowly edge him towards climax. (set: $PetrosA to it - 1) Yet it is not an experience he allows to go on as long as you intended. Your reverie is broken by his hand once more landing upon your (if: $Slave is true)[laminated hooded head](else:)[head, painfully grabbing you by the hair.] (if: $PetrosA is < -3)[[[You appear to reached the end of Petros' patience.->PetrosFail2]]](else:)["Do you think me another slave, to play with me so slowly? You are not my soubrette, slave." Forcibly, he drives you hard back onto his cock, directing a much quicker pace to make up for the lost time. [[[You try to keep up.->Neg20]]]]

You decide upon a brisk approach, keeping your lips upon his cock with every backstroke so as to almost immediately proceed into the next. It's a choice he allows, observing you carefully as you ever so slowly edge him towards climax. It's a pace that seems to meet his approval, the occasional grunt of pleasure from the mask even suggesting a quickly growing arousal. In fact it seems to grow at such a rate that he eventually outpaces you, his hand once more landing upon your (if: $Slave is true)[laminated hooded head](else:)[head, painfully grabbing you by the hair.] His next command is dreadfully simple. "Faster." [[You try to keep up.->Neg20]]

You decide upon a truly aggressive approach, driving back down upon his cock as soon as you manage to reach the apex of each backstroke. Unable to resist the wanton desire to feel his manhood deep inside your mouth, you almost miss his hand landing upon your (if: $Slave is true)[laminated hooded head](else:)[head, painfully grabbing you by the hair.] (set: $PetrosA to it - 1) "This does not please me," he declares, matter of factly. "I am not surprised you are such a whore, but this lacks grace. And skill. You could go *faster*." (if: $PetrosA is < -3)[[[You appear to reached the end of Petros' patience.->PetrosFail2]]](else:)[Just what *that* meant is explained by the plunging of your head forward, back onto his cock, as he begins to drive you faster and faster-- soon outpacing your own self-set pace... [[[You try to keep up.->Neg20]]]]

His second hand lands upon your head moments later, providing the control needed to direct your ministrations at a truly aggressive pace. He gives you no time to pause after each stroke, nor even to truly breathe-- you're merely forced back down upon the laminate shaft, its glossy material gliding across your tongue until it presses against the back of your throat. It's an experience that is quickly tiring, even as the Master above growls with pleasure. Petros was clearly enjoying himself, but honestly you're not sure how long you can keep this up. (if: $Plugs is true)[And it's at that moment you feel your plugs shifting to life between your legs. [[[Oh no.->NegPlugged]]]](else:)[ [[Try to ask him to slow!->Neg21Slow]] [[Pull against his hands, to get him to slow!->Neg21Pull]] [[Try to speed up even further. Race for his climax!->Neg21Race]]]

You may have accepted the promise of the plugs sealed inside your cunt and rear being activated at random, but they could not have chose a worse time to do so. Thankfully you're bound, as without the restraints you very well may have fallen over, the sensation of them purring to life as surprising as it was pleasurable. Petros had noticed your plugs during the earlier inspection, and he seems to notice what you're undergoing now-- undoubtedly that saves you from his displeasure, something like a chuckle even escaping his mask. "Now all three holes are at work, slave?" And indeed, the male does not relent even as your thighs shift back and forth a bit, seeking to further the pleasure even as you try to focus on your oral work again. [[Try to ask him to slow!->Neg21Slow]] [[Pull against his hands, to get him to slow!->Neg21Pull]] [[Try to speed up even further. Race for his climax!->Neg21Race]]

"Mmmmgghhhh..." With your lips wrapped around his cock, its the best you can manage, and clearly not enough. Not only are you ignored, it almost feels as if Petros increases his almost furious pace even further, to punish you for such a transgression. (set: $PetrosA to it - 1) (if: $PetrosA is < -3)[[[You appear to reached the end of Petros' patience.->PetrosFail2]]](else:)[There is little you can do but endure, to focus on your breathing as the strokes of your mouth upon his manhood begin to blur together. In and out, in and out... [[...in and out...->Neg22]]]

With both his hands upon your head, you have absolutely zero chance of forcing a halt to proceedings at this point-- which the male clearly intended to continue upon. Not only are you ignored, it almost feels as if Petros increases his almost furious pace even further, to punish you for such a transgression. (set: $PetrosA to it - 1) (if: $PetrosA is < -3)[[[You appear to reached the end of Petros' patience.->PetrosFail2]]](else:)[There is little you can do but endure, to focus on your breathing as the strokes of your mouth upon his manhood begin to blur together. In and out, in and out... [[...in and out...->Neg22]]]

Doubting in your own ability to halt the assault, you instead attempt to quicken your own despoilation-- sucking hard, moving with his harsh guidance, forcing him further and further towards climax. It's a well founded strategy, and one Petros seems to recognize-- he growls with pleasure as you push him faster, yet the Master demonstrates his own experience by only speeding up, going beyond what was already a furious pace. In the end you can do little but focus on your breathing as the strokes begin to blur together. In and out, in and out... [[...in and out...->Neg22]]

The effort is so all consuming you're taken by utter surprise when Petros' rough guidance suddenly holds you still-- his manhood fully within your mouth as he groans in a rare display of ecstasy. The taste of something foreign being spurted down your throat follows, a moment's realization needed to recognize what could only be his cum. (if: $Plugs is true)[As if taking the cue, the dildos in your cunt and rear seem to double down, pushing you towards a similar and thus simultaneous climax. [[Finally! Cum hard!->Neg23SlaveFail]] [[Focus on your Master's pleasure first!->Neg23SlavePass]] ](else:)[ [[Focus on swallowing!->Neg23Swallow]] [[Focus on his pleasure!->Neg23Fail]]]

(if: $Slave is true)[So long in your slave suit had already pushed you to the edge so many times, who could blame you for seeking to finally achieve the climax your body so desperately sought?](else:)[Even the short time since having the club's plugs installed had been difficult, who could blame you for finally seeking to achieve a climax?] It's a question and position that collapses almost immediately afterward, as the vibrations from your plugs suddenly cease-- leaving you precariously on the edge of climax. And having lost total control of the situation in your mouth. [["Mmmmgh!"->Neg23Fail]]

(if: $Slave is true)[Despite having spent so long plugged and teased, you recognize the danger that could come from a manhood so virile and lack of attention.](else:)[Despite having spent only a little while plugged, you recognize the danger that could come from a manhood so virile and lack of attention.] Your forethought is proven proper mere moments later, as your vibrators suddenly cease-- just before a more concerted seeking of pleasure would have allowed you to cum anyway. Moments later Master Petros begins to cum. [[Swallow!->Neg23Swallow]]

Grunting with ecstasy, Petros begins to cum, his manhood quivering in your mouth as his seed runs down your throat. It's a sensation you seek to further, swallowing as quickly as you can to keep up with a flow that could only be described as prodigious. Somewhere along the way he begins backing out of you, and to your credit you maintain your dedication, not allowing one drop of his seed to spill. It's a result that earns his satisfaction, demonstrated by yet another nod from his masked visage. Reaching down afterward, he runs a gloved hand across his own member before holding it to your face. "Lick it clean." [[Clean away his cum and your own saliva.->Neg24]]

Having devoted yourself to pleasure, you fail to focus on your swallowing-- and thus feel the Master's cum filling your mouth even as he begins to back out from your full lips. When he finally exits a rather large portion follows, running down your chin and onto your breasts. (set: $PetrosA to it - 1) Above, breathing heavily through his mask, Petros finds a bit of rage for his voice despite the afterglow. "Slaves always swallow, slut. Always." (if: $PetrosA is < -3)[[[You appear to reached the end of Petros' patience.->PetrosFail2]]](else:)[Reaching down, he works his gloved hand around his cock, wiping clean the member even as he presents the hand to your face. "Lick it clean." [[Clean away his cum and your own saliva.->Neg24]]]

As you work your tongue even further, pressing it between the smooth laminate digits that made up his hand, Petros uses his other limb to begin unlocking your restraints. Unhooking one end of each of the connecting chains, for the moment he lets them hang loosely from your body, the added cuffs remaining as well. Only then does he take a seat back on the couch nearby, his obsidian phallus still boldly erect as he leans back, breathing deeply. After a few moments he gestures vaguely your way. "Bourbon. The bartender knows which." Apparently he wanted you to head for the bar, still wearing your restraints, his cum still on your lips. [["M-Master...?->Neg25Fail]] [[Stand and make the walk to the bar.->Neg25]]

(set: $PetrosA to it - 1)You cannot tell it, but its not hard to imagine his eyes closed in the afterflow of your encounter-- until one opens, piercing in its severity. "Do you not still wear my collar? I did not give you leave to speak." (if: $PetrosA is < -3)[[[You appear to reached the end of Petros' patience.->PetrosFail2]]](else:)[Indeed, the metal band around your throat remains. Looks like you don't have much of a choice. [[Stand and make the walk to the bar.->Neg25]]]

Standing, you make your way across Club Lush, the bar being far on the opposite side. Were this any other planet, it would have been quite the walk of shame indeed. Wrapped in glossy laminate, your every curve on display, the chains still linking Petros' cuffs upon your body jingle with every step, sinister bells with far more devious intent. The efforts of your service to the male are evident to anyone who happens to glance your way, your breasts rising and falling (if: $Brand is true or $Slave is true)[atop your tightly corseted waist ]while a bit of his seed still runs down your chin until you wipe it clean with a back of your hand. But this is Torei, and you're merely a collared woman. Excepting the tourists who gawked at most anything, this is very much your expected place. The bartender certainly seems to think so, his noticing of you rather far apart from when he actually approaches. By the time he does you're glancing back towards Petros, concerned he may grow impatient. Placing a small tray upon the bar, he leans over it to meet your gaze. "What does your owner need, slave?" [["I'm not a slave!"->NegNotSlave]] [["What took you so long?"->NegWhyLong]] [["Master Petros requested a bourbon. He said you would know which."->Neg26]]

"Temporary indentured servant is quite the mouthful," the bartender replies, with a casual smile. Even so, he's quick to correct you on one measure. "And you best learn to keep your eyes down when wearing a collar like that. Now-- what does your owner need?" [["What took you so long to take my order?"->NegWhyLong]] [["Master Petros requested a bourbon. He said you would know which."->Neg26]]

"Simple etiquette," the bartender shrugs, with an easy smile. "Masters first, then freewombs, then girls like you." He waggles a finger to his own throat, indicating Petros' collar. "Anyway," he continues, "what does your owner want?" [["I'm not a slave!"->NegNotSlave]] [["Master Petros requested a bourbon. He said you would know which."->Neg26]]

"That I do know," the bartender replies, reaching below. "Starlight Black. For one Torean bred and born, he sure does enjoy tastes of the galaxy beyond, hmm?" He winks, setting the glass of bourbon on the small tray. Could you not be described in much the same manner? [["What's with the tray?"->Neg27Tray]] [[Take the tray, and make your way back.->Neg27]]

"It's customary for girls in your position to present things with a bit of flair, of course. Never done it before? When you get back to him, kneel to his side-- not before him-- and the tray before you-- chest level, not above your head." Given Petros' focus on etiquette, that would be good to know. [["Thanks." Head back to Petros.->Neg27]]

Crossing the Club a second time, tray held before you, is a quick enough affair. (if: $Ballet is true)[Your ballet boots make it quite the trying effort, however, the necessities of maintaining your balance in such footwear nearly sending the bourbon to an early demise upon the floor. Only careful effort keeps it in place.] Petros is where you had left him, although he has apparently roused enough to replace his codpiece-- the thick laminate once again shielding the manhood you were now still so familiar with. [[Stand and present him with the drink.->Neg28Stand]] [[Kneel to his side and present the drink.->Neg28Side]] [[Kneel before him and present the drink.->Neg28Front]]

As he had upon first meeting, Petros ignores you entirely-- except to snap his fingers to the side of his seat and not before it. "Etiquette demands a slave not address her Master directly, nor stand in his presence." (set: $PetrosA to it - 1) (if: $PetrosA is < -3)[[[You appear to reached the end of Petros' patience.->PetrosFail2]]](else:)[[[Shit. Move to his side and kneel.->Neg28Side]]]

Approaching the side of your (temporary) Master, you kneel beside him, tray held in your hands. The arm of his couch appears well suited for such an implement, or you can merely hold it yourself. [[Hold the tray at chest level before you.->Neg29]] [[Hold the tray above your head.->Neg29Above]] [[Place the tray upon the couch's arm, close to Petros.->Neg29Arm]]

As he had upon first meeting, Petros ignores you entirely-- except to snap his fingers to the side of his seat and not before it. "Etiquette demands a slave not address her Master directly." (set: $PetrosA to it - 1) (if: $PetrosA is < -3)[[[You appear to reached the end of Petros' patience.->PetrosFail2]]](else:)[[[Shit. Move to his side and kneel.->Neg28Side]]]

Holding the tray smartly, just below your breasts, you wait for the Master to deign to notice you. And it does indeed take some time, although he eventually turns, taking the glass with a careful hand. "Etiquette does not demand any further direct service from you," he notes solemnly. "But it does demand you return yourself to a fit state." He offers you a key. "For the cuffs.(if: $Slave is true)[ And you will return yourself to breath regulation. [[You take up your regulating gasmask again.->NegMask]]]" [[Unlock yourself.->Neg30]]

Keeping the tray above your head may have been the most dramatic posture possible, but it quickly proves difficult to hold-- your arms ill-suited for balancing the tray so far above you like that. Just before it can end in disaster, however, Petros swipes the drink. (set: $PetrosA to it - 1) (if: $PetrosA is < -3)[[[You appear to reached the end of Petros' patience.->PetrosFail2]]](else:)["Etiquette does not demand you endanger my drink," he notes solemnly. "But it does demand you return yourself to a fit state." He offers you a key. "For the cuffs.(if: $Slave is true)[ And you will return yourself to breath regulation. [[You take up your regulating gasmask again.->NegMask]]]" [[Unlock yourself.->Neg30]]]

Sliding the tray upon the arm of the sofa, its quickly apparent that Petros disapproves. He swipes the drink from it with an almost feral alacrity, then looks sharply your way. (set: $PetrosA to it - 1) (if: $PetrosA is < -3)[[[You appear to reached the end of Petros' patience.->PetrosFail2]]](else:)["Etiquette does not demand you end such a performance with laziness," he notes solemnly. "But it does demand you return yourself to a fit state." He offers you a key. "For the cuffs.(if: $Slave is true)[ And you will return yourself to breath regulation. [[You take up your regulating gasmask again.->NegMask]]]" [[Unlock yourself.->Neg30]]]

Picking up your laminate mask, you hold it before you momentarily-- enjoying one last breath of free air-- before sliding it back into place upon your head. It takes a bit to seat it properly, but eventually you find yourself looking out a familiar panel of glass, your breathing becoming audible as the restraint filters kick into gear. It's as difficult to bear as you remember, and more then a little bit arousing. Few, after all, submitted willingly to the uniform you again wear in full. [[You turn to your cuffs.->Neg30]]

Pulling off the restraints Petros had provided, you quickly realize the collar itself did not respond to the key provided. "You will have your audience first," he declares, noticing your confusion. "And in this way, you will remember your place." He indicates the floor directly before him. "You will kneel, in proper posture, and beg for that which you have earned." [[You know the drill now. Legs spread, back straight, eyes down...->Neg31]]

You move to a position directly before the seated Master, spreading your legs and straightening your back-- and when prompted, explain that you seek access from him to the VIP section of the Club. It's a request he considers for a only a moment, the effort you put in to earn that moment intensive, the actual work required of him to sate it insignificant. Thus was the Torean way. "These were the terms negotiated, I suppose. And I hardly care for the VIP area, not when the floor down here is so full of ambition and desperation. If this boon is truly what you seek, I will grant it. At your leisure, you may tell the guard near the stairs that you have my sponsorship, so to speak." [["Thank you, Master!"->Neg32]] [["This will suit me, Master."->Neg32]] [["Was there anything else you needed, Master?"->Neg32]]

Reaching forward, at Petros' touch the collar he had affixed to your throat comes undone. His power over you suspended, he seems to rapidly lose interest, swirling his still untasted drink while flicking his hand towards the VIP staircase. (set: $PetrosTry to true) "You will leave me." [[Rising from your kneeling position, you step away.->Neg33]]

Moving away from the male, you look back on an experience you could only describe as intensely degrading-- the submission required of you so complete as to be distinctly Torean. You may still have your own goals, your own motivations, but in that moment it's impossible to ignore the simple fact that Torei had placed its indelible mark upon your soul. Would it all prove worth it? It seems you could now go and see. With Petros' sponsorship, the stairs that ascended to the VIP section should be opened-- and with it, finally, the meeting you had tracked all this way and endured so much to reach. *Now if only you could remember what it was truly for.* [[You make your way back to your table, to take stock.->LushHub]]

You hardly find anything remarkable. Just more shoes. Given that the cases were sealed and clearly well sorted, perhaps that shouldn't have been unexpected. Whatvever you were so intent on searching for isn't here, at least. [[Step back from the cases.->BRWardrobe]]

The bottom shelves are filled with extra glasses and liquor, the latter occupying several heavy duty laminate crates. Given Lush's large bar, and its distinct collection of intoxicants both Torean and Offworld-originating, its perhaps no small wonder they kept a extra stock back here. Beyond that, you don't see much of interest. [[Step back.->BRStorage]]

The upper rows of the storage area are filled with several devices you immediately recognize as having a very *carnal* intent. Most appear to feature different means of interacting with the female anatomy, be it via vibrating nubs, plunging phalli, or in one particular case something that looks like a pulley lined with metallic tabs-- to which purpose you can only imagine. Lush's slaves apparently had their work cut out for them, on occasion. [[Step back.->BRStorage]]

Several posters, larger then you are tall even with the added height of your heels, are collected in the storage room's corner. Moving to unfurl the first, if only to sate your idle curiosity, its then you notice something else behind the posters. Pushing them aside takes a good moment, but when you do you're rewarded with an unexpected sight: a door, obviously hidden. Just where it went is impossible to determine, the portal lacking any manner of view beyond it. You do however find something else jammed into the doorframe itself, a small folding blade. Given its position, it almost looked like someone had been trying to pry the door open. It doesn't appear they succeeded, and you see no other way of opening it. (if: $BRGag is true)[(set: $BRCut to true)The blade is small, but appears to be exactly the sort needed to cut through the laminate restraints holding Akrai. You decide to take it with you.] [[Step back.->BRStorage]]

You've made it. Despite everything you've endured, at the hotel, on the Torean streets, and inside this very Club-- your goal is now merely a few steps away. *The deal.* You don't remember the terms, but from what you've collected together it simply **must** be worth all the effort. Torei was a land of strange wonders, after all, and you're still a prospector. If you could just chip off a bit of the collected cultural wealth of this planet, enough to run with to the stars, you would be set for life. Taking a deep breath, you move across the balcony towards the darkened hallway beyond. Neon labels upon each door chart your path through the desolate sea, until you come upon the island of light that Cherish had mentioned upon your entering-- VIP Suite #4. [[Knock.->VIP2]]

Ascending the stairs, you soon find yourself in a cozy little fireplace nook, overlooking the rest of the living area. The fire itself is not lit, but even so its not hard to imagine Lush's slaves seated her early in the morning-- given their undoubtedly all-night work in the club proper-- winding down. [[Examine the magazine on the endtable.->BRUpMag]] (if: $BRKey is false)[[[Take a seat, and take a break.->BRUpSit]]] [[Check out whatever is glinting over there, on the footstool.->BRUpCuffs]] [[Observe the rest of the room from your higher vantage.->BRUpUp]] [[That's enough up here, head back downstairs.->BRLounge]]

Approaching the kitchen, you move between the island counter and appliances along the wall. Peeking inside the icebox reveals it to be well stocked, a fact that is perhaps a bit surprising given how slaves on Torei were generally treated. Perhaps it served as a perk? You're certainly hungry enough to consider it a proper proposition, but cannot sate that desire now-- someone could still walk in at any moment, and you're here for a reason after all. Otherwise the area is relatively unremarkable. [[Step back.->BRLounge]]

The seating area you approach seems comfortable enough, but its the vid screen on the wall that draws your attention. Simply put-- its massive, the anchor points at each corner further apart then your armspan. Resting on the coffee table nearby is a remote. [[Step back.->BRLounge]] [[Turn on the TV. Quietly.->BRTV]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/YzBgwS0.gif" width="40%" height="40%"> (if: $BRGag is false)[Strapped securely to the bed, a woman covered from head to toe in a dark red catsuit struggles against her restraints. Each accessory across her body, corset and collar, cuffs and gloves, providing a darker contrast by being completely black. She's moaning into the band pulled across her mouth, but rising above even that sound is the constant purr of what could only be multiple vibrators locked within her glistening suit. A quick examination reveals the majority of her restraints securely anchored, but her gag at least lacks locks-- likely a utilitarian decision, making communication with her captors available at their will. As it stands, however, she is very much helpless before *you.*](if: $BRGag is true)[Strapped securely to the bed, Akrai remains covered from head to toe in a dark red catsuit, struggling against her restraints. Each accessory across her body, corset and collar, cuffs and gloves, provides a darker contrast by being completely black. Without her gag she's moaning and occasionally cursing, fighting on the dual fronts of trying resist the ministrations between her legs-- and desperately seeking the climax that's denied her. Hearing your approach, she pulls hard against her bondage, panting audible in her tone as she speeks. "Did you find it? Something to help me?"] (if: $BRGag is false)[[[Curiosity compels you. Remove her gag.->BRAkraiRemove]] [[Ignore her, and return the way you came->BRCells]]](if: $BRGag is true)[(if: $BRCut is true)[[["I have, and I'm going to unlock you."->BRAkraiFreed]] [[I have, but I'm not going to risk it. I'm leaving you."->BRAkraiLeave]]] [[Ignore her, and return the way you came->BRCells]]]

Instead of defaulting to any particular channel, this vid screen instead brings you to a long listing of available stations. There appear to be two groups, one containing the standard looking variety of programs, the other labeled "Antipodal Longwave". [[Check out a news channel.->BRTVNews]] [[Check out a sports channel.->BRTVSports]] [[Check out one of the "Antipodal Longwave" channels.->BRTVLongwave]] [[Check out the channel labeled as "The Way Up Status".->BRTVWU]] [[Stop watching TV.->BRLounge]]

The topmost news channel is labeled as "TNN", and its to that you tune. Greeting you, a primly dressed woman in glossy red laminate smiles into the camera, a collar pulled tight around her throat boldly proclaiming her to be 'Property of TNN'. "Welcome back to the Torean News Network," she greets, as bright and chipper as her outfit. "As always, my name is Anna Karis and these are your top stories for the Ringdom of Aekora." She shuffles the thinprint laminate sheets on the desk before her. "Offworld-born pop star Reya Tianna shocked fans today by revealing that she had accepted a collar, and will be retiring from public performances to fulfill its obligations. Tianna has not revealed the name of her new owner, and speculation runs rampant as for her reasoning for entering into service, but many have been quick to point with the singer's twice extended stay on Torei and images of her from earlier this month in strict bondage indicating what could be a sincere desire for enslavement." The newswoman smiles. "Offworlder protests have been reported as fierce, but when pressed for comment local officials have confirmed the legitimacy of Miss Tianna's right to servitude, a proud Torean cultural heritage and institution." [[Check out a sports channel.->BRTVSports]] [[Check out one of the "Antipodal Longwave" channels.->BRTVLongwave]] [[Check out the channel labeled as "The Way Up Status".->BRTVWU]] [[Stop watching TV.->BRLounge]]

You flip to a sports channel, only to find a particularly archaic sport being practiced: chariot racing. It takes a moment, but with a bit of shock you finally realize what made it so very Torean. Instead of horses, or other creatures of burden, each chariot is instead pulled by a team of six women-- ponygirls-- each team of them wearing the same brightly colored laminate beneath their tack and harness. Given the cloven heels each are wearing you're surprised to see them maintaining a full sprint easily, although the way their drivers lash them mercilessly from on high explains their motivation. As you watch a team crosses the finishline, breaking a laminate band stretched across the field. They're met with furious applause and cheering from the stands as the camera rushes towards the driver for what soon becomes a post-race interview. Of the panting, moaning women locked together nearby little attention is given. [[Check out a news channel.->BRTVNews]] [[Check out one of the "Antipodal Longwave" channels.->BRTVLongwave]] [[Check out the channel labeled as "The Way Up Status".->BRTVWU]] [[Stop watching TV.->BRLounge]]

Unlike the other channels, which come in with perfect clarity, this one struggles a bit with an absolutely ancient issue: static. Given the reference to longwave, you conclude this particular channel has to be coming in from far away, perhaps bounced off the atmosphere from the other side of the planet. If the channel itself is ancient, the program playing is almost beyond time itself. It appears to document a mother and daughter's fictionalized life on a homestead in what's referred to as the 'Lichen Belt', an area depicted as mostly desolate. What's most shocking however are the slaves, many included in the background almost as an afterthought-- one baking in the kitchen, another locked spread-eagled to the wall of the family's home, two more distantly pulling a plow in the fields. If this was a view of rural Torei, it seemed the ease of obtaining slaves applied even there. [[Check out a news channel.->BRTVNews]] [[Check out a sports channel.->BRTVSports]] [[Check out the channel labeled as "The Way Up Status".->BRTVWU]] [[Stop watching TV.->BRLounge]]

Instead of a regular channel, this one is merely a mostly static table, depicting the incoming and outgoing schedule for the Way Up-- Torei's lone space elevator. You remember only snippets of your last ride on the elevator, but you do get a sense that the passenger carriage was quite large-- a fact confirmed by the relative rarity of departures and arrivals noted on the screen. It appears the most recent arrival was about an hour ago, and far more relevent to your concerns, a midnight ride going up is listed, corresponding with the ticket you found at the hotel this morning. Despite everything, its still on time, and *you* still have the time to make it. The opportunity for escape remains open. [[Check out a news channel.->BRTVNews]] [[Check out a sports channel.->BRTVSports]] [[Check out one of the "Antipodal Longwave" channels.->BRTVLongwave]] [[Stop watching TV.->BRLounge]]

Titled *Thrall's Ball*, the magazine appears to be focused on high fashion couture. Bright, glossy photoshoots fill equally glossy pages, a moment's examination confirming how very Torean of a publication it is: even the material of the pages themselves is laminate thinprint. Flipping through several pages reveals an examination of upcoming fashion lines, the current fad being based around exclusivity. Instead of being freely available from Wardrobe devices, it appears most of the current designs must be special ordered preformed. An interesting read, but of little use to you otherwise. [[Step back.->BRLoungeFire]]

Deep into your search, you throw a bit of caution to the wind, and sit down upon one of the plushy seats. Just a moments rest, to get you off your heels for a moment(if: $Plugs is true)[-- although the movement shifts the plugs buried within you, distracting from any true sense of relaxation or relief]. Yet even as you settle in, something jabs you in the laminate covering your thigh. Reaching down to find the perpetrator, your (if: $Sec is false)[gloved ] hand comes back up with what you very quickly realize is a keycard! (set: $BRKey to true) Examining the card, it has two words written along the top: SLAVE and MANAGEMENT. The latter, management, is crossed off however. Along the back is a warning, noting its authorized for "Wardrobe use only", as well as providing a warning to not misplace the card. Clearly someone had failed to heed that last bit. You had originally came back here to find an outfit to allow you to slip upstairs, and this seemed to be your literal key to achieve that goal-- you keep the card with you as you stand again. [[And then you step back.->BRLoungeFire]]

The glint of metal had caught your eye, and moving towards the far end of the seating area you reach down-- pulling for a pair of discarded cuffs, a short length of shiny chain running between them. Despite the quiet civility of the room, its a stark reminder of Torei's culture of bondage and hierarchy. It was always there, really-- just waiting for someone like you to stumble. [[Step back. Carefully.->BRLoungeFire]]

Moving to the railing, you are given a nearly bird's eye view of the slave quarters. If you were hoping for a particularly insightful revelation, or for keen eyes to spot anything in particular however-- you're sorely mistaken. At the very least no one else has wandered in yet, which given your luck on Torei day is more than just a small blessing. [[Step back.->BRLoungeFire]]

When your hands upon the gagging belt are first felt by the pinned woman she visibly starts, as if trying to shy away from hands she could only imagine were not friendly. You persist anyway, and as you had observed her gag is relatively easy to remove. The bound woman exerts herself immediately. (set: $BRGag to true) "You don't *feel* like the Master, or one of his people. What's going on? Who are you?" She's trying desperately to downplay the desire that runs behind every word, even as her hips thrust impotently against her bindings. [["Who I am doesn't matter."->BRAkraiNo]] [["I was wondering what... you're doing?"->BRAkraiWhat]] [["I want your help."->BRAkraiHelp]]

"T-Thank.. thank the Princess Thrall," she all but moans. "Hurry, please. Then I'll tell you whatever you like. Promise." The laminate holding her to the bed is thick, and surprisingly resistant to your efforts, but the blade proves sharp enough. One by one you cut through the bands holding Akrai, until at last she rises. "My blade," she asks for, holding out a hand. You give it to her, allowing the woman to reach up-- delicately cutting away the blindfold that had been keeping her blind. The eyes that are revealed are bright and intelligent, looking you over quickly. "(if: $Blue is true)[Not what I expected. Someone wearing that many cuffs, I mean. Like the blue color though.](if: $Smoke is true)[Not what I expected. Transparent laminate, that's not usually something the heroines in the vids wear.](if: $Brand is true)[Not what I expected. How are you even sneaking around in those heels, anyway?](if: $Sec is true)[Hmm... about what I expected, honestly. Well dressed enough to be some Mistress on the prowl, maybe a rival to Master? Nevermind.](if: $Slave is true)[Wow... not what I expected *at all.* Another slave? You're risking a lot just being back here. You do know Truant Officers frequent this Club, right? Nevermind.]" Still the sound of her vibrators intrude, and without restraints one of her gloved hands falls to the space between her legs, but steel lock on the zipper there prevents access- and her knife couldn't cut through that. Either way, she tries to ignore it by focusing on you. "I guess its my turn to fulfill the deal, right?" (if: $Wet is true)[ She wiggles her knife your way. "As a bonus, I can cut those bands off your thighs. Unless you *want* to be announcing that to everyone..." ] (if: $Wet is true)[[["Sure, cut off the bands."->BRAkBands]] [["Actually... I'll keep the bands."->BRAkBands2]]](else:)[[["Yes. I want the passcode to the VIP gate back here."->BRAKGate]] [["Yes. I want to know where I can find a keycard for the Wardrobe machine."->BRAKWard]]]

"What!?" The shock is as evident in Akrai's body language as the frustrated ecstasy is. "P-Please... you can't, I'll tell you whatever you want! Just like I promised I would! Don't leave me like this!" [[Her pleas fall on deaf ears. Step back.->BRCells]] [["Alright, fine-- I'll cut you loose."->BRAkraiFreed]]

"Someone... new? An intruder? Is that you, Perei-- fucking with me?" She was right on one of those guesses, but doesn't give you the time to point that out before continuing. "Look, whoever you are-- they call me Akrai here, and we can help each other, alright? Whatever--" she pauses, biting down hard as her vibrators run a particularly sweet course through her senses. "Ahh... whatever you want, I'll help with, okay? In exchange for you releasing me. Whatever you want... what *do* you want?" [["I want to get through the VIP gate here, in the backrooms."->BRAkraiGate]] [["I want to get a uniform like the other girls here."->BRAkraiUniform]] [["I'm not sure what I would want."->BRAkraiUnsure]]

"What... what am I doing? What does it look like I'm doing?! Being punished for... for..." She pauses, swallowing hard before shifting her tactics. "Look, whoever you are-- they call me Akrai here, and we can help each other, alright? Whatever--" she pauses, biting down hard as her vibrators run a particularly sweet course through her senses. "Ahh... whatever you want, I'll help with, okay? In exchange for you releasing me. Whatever you want... what *do* you want?" [["I want to get through the VIP gate here, in the backrooms."->BRAkraiGate]] [["I want to get a uniform like the other girls here."->BRAkraiUniform]] [["I'm not sure what I would want."->BRAkraiUnsure]]

"That's great!" She all but moans. "Look, whoever you are-- they call me Akrai here, and we can help each other, alright? Whatever--" she pauses, biting down hard as her vibrators run a particularly sweet course through her senses. "Ahh... whatever you want, I'll help with, okay? In exchange for you releasing me. Whatever you want... what *do* you want?" [["I want to get through the VIP gate here, in the backrooms."->BRAkraiGate]] [["I want to get a uniform like the other girls here."->BRAkraiUniform]] [["I'm not sure what I would want."->BRAkraiUnsure]]

"The gate..." it takes her a moment to understand what you mean, the loud sound of her vibrators undoubtedly muddling her thoughts a bit, but she pulls through. "The VIP gate-- r-right. Well you're in luck, I know the code. We all do, the slaves here I mean..." Again she pauses, whimpering as much as moaning as she struggles in her bondage. "So we h-have a deal, right? You'll need to find something to free me. I doubt M-Master left a key just laying around, so maybe a knife... oh, *my* knife... so you can cut me loose. Then I'll tell you the passcode, or whatever else you want." Akrai bites down on her bottom lip. "D-Deal?" [["What did you do to be left like this?"->BRAkWhat]] [["What will you do if I release you?"->BRAkRel]] [["You mentioned your knife?"->BRAkKnife]] [["We have a deal."->BRAkDeal]] [["I'll think about it."->BRAkDeal]]

"Why would you want that..." it takes her a moment to further parse your words, the loud sound of her vibrators undoubtedly muddling her thoughts a bit, but she pulls through. "Well, whatever-- you would need to use our wardrobe machine, which means you would need a key... I can help with that." Again she pauses, whimpering as much as moaning as she struggles in her bondage. "So we h-have a deal, right? You'll need to find something to free me. I doubt M-Master left *his* key just laying around, so maybe a knife... oh, *my* knife... so you can cut me loose. Then I'll tell you where to find a Wardrobe pass, or whatever else you want." Akrai bites down on her bottom lip. "D-Deal?" [["What did you do to be left like this?"->BRAkWhat]] [["What will you do if I release you?"->BRAkRel]] [["You mentioned your knife?"->BRAkKnife]] [["We have a deal."->BRAkDeal]] [["I'll think about it."->BRAkDeal]]

"Are you just... just wandering around back h-here..." it takes her a moment to further parse your words, the loud sound of her vibrators undoubtedly muddling her thoughts a bit, but she pulls through. "Well, whatever-- you want into the VIP area? I could get you in there, I know the password for the g-gate back here." Again she pauses, whimpering as much as moaning as she struggles in her bondage. "So we h-have a deal, right? You'll need to find something to free me. I doubt M-Master left *his* key just laying around, so maybe a knife... oh, *my* knife... so you can cut me loose. Then I'll tell you the VIP passcode, or whatever else you want." Akrai bites down on her bottom lip. "D-Deal?" [["What did you do to be left like this?"->BRAkWhat]] [["What will you do if I release you?"->BRAkRel]] [["You mentioned your knife?"->BRAkKnife]] [["We have a deal."->BRAkDeal]] [["I'll think about it."->BRAkDeal]]

"I... tried to run away," she admits, sounding ashamed. "I just c-couldn't stand it... being collared, trained, then s-sold to Master. I haven't been here long, so first chance I got... I ran." Akrai grits her teeth, quivering towards another orgasm that never comes to her. The frustration that follows is evident, her back arching despite her corset. "Didn't make it f-far, obviously... and then Master put me on d-denial punishment... I think its been days." Instead of moaning in ecstasy, or crying-- you can't tell which-- she instead tries to focus. "Do we have a deal?" [["What will you did if I release you?"->BRAkRel]] [["You mentioned your knife?"->BRAkKnife]] [["We have a deal."->BRAkDeal]] [["I'll think about it."->BRAkDeal]]

"W-What... what do you care?" She manages, licking her lips in an alluring manner. "You're obviously not... with the Club. And I'm sure they won't notice I'm not being... *tortured* here until the Club closes... which is hours away. You'll be long gone, I'm s-sure." *You would have to take her word on that one.* "Do we have a deal?" [["What did you do to be left like this?"->BRAkWhat]] [["You mentioned your knife?"->BRAkKnife]] [["We have a deal."->BRAkDeal]] [["I'll think about it."->BRAkDeal]]

"Y-Yes... my knife. If we're lucky, it should be in the s-storage area... where they found me. By the hidden door. Don't waste your time on it. The d-door, I mean... it definitely leads out of the Club, but I couldn't get it open..." She turns back to her original question. "Do we have a d-deal?" [["What did you do to be left like this?"->BRAkWhat]] [["What will you did if I release you?"->BRAkRel]] [["We have a deal."->BRAkDeal]] [["I'll think about it."->BRAkDeal]]

"G-Good enough..." she sighs, although its impossible to tell if its because of what you said or a slight change in her vibrator's roaring assault. Settling back into her restraints, as best she can, Akrai dismisses you. "G-Go, then. Hurry, please. They kept me like this for so l-long..." [[Another thing to keep in mind.->BRAkrai]]

(set: $Wet to false)"Thought so," Akrai replies, coming closer. "Here. Hold still, won't take but a moment." She's true to her word, the thin blade sliding almost effortlessly between the laminate of your thigh and the band atop it. Cutting it free, she then repeats the prcoess on the other. "There," the slave concludes. "Now, like I said, that was a bonus. What do you want from me, in return for releasing me?" [["I want the passcode to the VIP gate back here."->BRAKGate]] [["I want to know where I can find a keycard for the Wardrobe machine."->BRAKWard]]

"Really?" She squints at you, blatantly incredulous. "By the Thrall, you're one of them that *really* enjoys it all, huh? (if: $Slave is true)[Probably should have seen that coming, if you're wearing a full slave suit like that. ]Now I'm more surprised you agreed to help me... but you did. So I'll pay you back, like I promised. What did you want from me?" [["I want the passcode to the VIP gate back here."->BRAKGate]] [["I want to know where I can find a keycard for the Wardrobe machine."->BRAKWard]]

(set: $BRVIP to true)"Sure," Akrai replies simply. "The code is 6195. You just need to punch it in on the pinpad, near the door. And boom-- and you're in." In a remarkable display of dexterity, she rolls the knife between her fingers. "And now we're even. I don't know what you plan to do up in that VIP area, or whatever, and I don't rightly care. I'm going to... collect myself, but this is where we part ways." She gives a slight curtsy, very much at odds with her otherwise obvious resistance to what her collar meant on Torei. "Good luck." [[Time to get out of here.->BRCells]]

(set: $BRVIP to true)"Well..." Akrai replies, rubbing the back of her laminate-covered head. "I have a card for it, but sort of... lost it. I can tell you I lost saw it in the lounge area, back here. Upstairs by the fire, I think. But look-- kamn, I still feel like I owe you. So I'll throw in a bit extra. If you *do* want to use the VIP door back here, the code is 6195. Alright?" In a remarkable display of dexterity, she rolls the knife between her fingers. "And now we're even. I don't know what you plan to do up in that VIP area, or whatever, and I don't rightly care. I'm going to... collect myself, but this is where we part ways." She gives a slight curtsy, very much at odds with her otherwise obvious resistance to what her collar meant on Torei. "Good luck." [[Time to get out of here.->BRCells]]

*New Biometrics Detected. Standardized Contract Dispensed.* The words upon the screen are followed by page after page of fine print pouring across, before a button begins flashing near the bottom. (text-style: "blink")[**Press to sign.**] [[Wait a minute. Scroll up and read the first page.->BRWardrobeR1]] [[Press to sign, as demanded.->BRWardrobe5]] [[On second thought... step back, consider your options.->BRWardrobe2]]

The legalese you find is particularly dense, beginning with a forward nearly a dozen pages long-- quite the narrative that in the end seems to simply establish the legal and binding nature of the contract. And below it all, the button follows you. (text-style: "blink")[**Press to sign.**] [[Turn to the next section, keep reading.->BRWardrobeR2]] [[Press to sign, as demanded.->BRWardrobe5]] [[On second thought... step back, consider your options.->BRWardrobe2]]

At your touch, the door leading into the Wardrobe Device opens before you. Its exterior may have seemed a bit different, but the interior is identical. Tiled floor and walls, several oddly shaped for the inevitable emergence of the device's armatures-- and another interior control screen, blinking for you attention. *Secondary confirmation of contract acceptance required.* (text-style: "blink")[**Insert ID card, press to confirm.**] [[Insert your ID card and press to sign, as demanded.->BRWardrobe6]] [[Last chance to back out, and you take it. Retreat.->BRWardrobe2]]

The next section goes through great effort to validate the contract by either asserting the free and uncoerced signature of the signee, or their forced submission via order by the Ministry of the Truants. Still not very helpful. (text-style: "blink")[**Press to sign.**] [[Keep reading.->BRWardrobeR3]] [[Press to sign, as demanded.->BRWardrobe5]] [[On second thought... step back, consider your options.->BRWardrobe2]]

Skimming even more quickly, you come to at least one solid conclusion: you could be here all night, digging through this contract. A Torean contract was never something to be taken lightly, but dusk is all but over-- and you *need* to get upstairs. And this will get you the outfit you need to get up there. (text-style: "blink")[**Press to sign.**] [[Press to sign, as demanded.->BRWardrobe5]] [[Still, I need to think about this. Step back, consider your options.->BRWardrobe2]]

(set: $Slave to false)(set: $Sec to false)(set: $Brand to false)(set: $Smoke to false)(set: $Blue to false)(set: $Servant to true)(set: $Wet to false)(set: $Ballet to false)(set: $Plugs to false)Behind you, the Wardrobe Device's door seals shut with an audible click. *Submission accepted. Freewomb status revoked. Registration as* **Slave** *compliant with full Aekoran Slave Codes underway. Prepare for dressing.* [["Registration as what!?"->BRWardrobe7]] [["Uh..."->BRWardrobe7]]

From a dozen places along the Wardrobe's walls, metallic arms emerge to seize you. Your words as well as whatever resistance you could muster are ignored, the machine rapidly seizing control. Locking around your wrists and ankles, waist and throat, it quickly forces you into a position with legs spread and arms held out to your sides. *Stripping process intialized.* Just what *that* meant is soon clarified, as a ring descends from above, spraying every inch of your body coated with laminate. Whatever it was doing, the effect is immediate, your formally glossy material dulling then beginning to run down your body into the drain below. Those parts that were reinforced with metal or other accessories are caught as they collapse, being stored within the machine as it makes a second pass, cleaning off any lingering residue with a violet glow that leaves you as utterly naked. Chiming happily, the Wardrobe changes modes. *Piercing process initalized.* [[Uh-oh.->BRWardrobe8]] [[Now's your chance! Force your way out!->BRWardFail]]

With its myriad arms still holding you spread-eagled and helpless, different-- far more distressing devices emerge from the Wardrobe's hidden alcoves. The first approach your breasts, now so very exposed. (if: $Pierced is true)[There they find your nipples already pierced, a fact that seems to please the machine as it moves downward, focusing elsewhere.](if: $Pierced is false)[There they maneuver up against your nipples, pressing a cold tip up against them to make them hard before long needles line up. You're not even given a chance to flinch before the piercing apparatus drives home in unison, neatly adorning you with metal studs in each nipple. Afterward a new arm moves in to apply a healing solution, a modern medical miracle of strictly Torean origin, even as the piercing arm moves downward.(set: $Pierced to true)] There it lines up before your womanhood, and most concerningly... your clit. [["No!"->BRWardrobe9]] [["Please!"->BRWardrobe9]] [[Silently endure.->BRWardrobe9]]

You pull against the restraining arms, success welling in your chest as the armature on your left wrist cracks audibly, This *can* be escaped! If not for the arm behind you, waiting silently. You do not see it, but you certainly *feel* the sudden snap of electricty that bursts upon your rear, pain receptors announcing the experience with a unified yelp that matches the sound that emerges from your own lips. *REMAIN STILL.* The display changed to deliver the command, the cold steel of what you can only imagine to be a cattle prod still poised against her buttocks. You take a deep breath... and settle back as the arm restraint returns. *Minor damage has been recorded to Arm 5-L-6. A 100 credit charge has been made to your account.* (set: $debt to it - 100) [[The piercing process resumes.->BRWardrobe8]]

The Wardrobe matters not for your reactions. It had a blueprint to follow, and in those plans your uniform required a clit piercing. Such clinical professionalism from the machine doesn't help with the sharp spike of pain that comes with the installation of your ring, but the salve it applies afterward does provide release. And there the Wardrobe pauses, allowing you to accustom yourself to such a humiliating alteration. But it doesn't stop there. *Testing 'punishment shock' mode in 3... 2... 1...* [[Wait, wha-->BRWardrobe10]]

The pain that radiates from your most sensative of nubs is perhaps best described as *lancing*, riding straight up your nerves to some primal reactionary part of the brain that cried for immediate mercy. You writhe in impotent distress for as long as the pulse of electricity is discharged through you-- by empirical observation a few seconds, but for what feels like an eternity. Finally, however, it ceases. You're left in the wake, moaning softly in your restraints. Yet the Wardrobe is hardly done yet. *Testing 'pleasure reward' mode in 3... 2... 1...* [["Oh Gods..."->BRWardrobe11]] [["H-Help!"->BRWardrobe11]] [[Grit your teeth.->BRWardrobe11]]

The second test is much like the first, emanating from your clit in a wave of sensation more akin to directly tapping your nervous system then anything else you've ever felt. This one however is sheer, unbridled euphoria. Igniting a fire between your legs, then pouring gasoline upon it until it blazed-- all but out of control. But it too ends, suddenly, too suddenly. Instinctively you drive your hips out, seeking more, anything to fuel that fire already fluttering. The futility of the maneuver is clear, however. You're left unsatisfied, frustrated, and more then a little humiliated. The Wardrobe chimes in response. *Testing successful. Starting uniform application...* [[It continues.->BRWardrobe12]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/hjBAqe9.jpg" width="50%" height="50%"> As this new step engages, the large ring ascends from where it had halted below. This time instead of dissolving an outfit, it applies it, utilizing a swarm of small nozzles mounted on armatures. Powder blue stockings are formed around your feet, then ankles, calves, and thighs. At their top it provides a decoratory white band before progressing into garters that are ran up even further. A garter belt and panties are formed, both stark white in coloration, before the Wardrobe begins on the main piece of your new uniform. What becomes your bodice and skirt is carefully formed as a singular piece, from your shoulders down to the decorative faux-belt at your waist. From there it expands, careful pleating created alongside a ruffled petticoat the skirt itself *just* fails to cover. Indeed the entire ensemble is quite short, exposing the meeting of your thighs and thus the panties there with even the barest of movements. With the application of your sleeves, the shoulders ruffled while the arms are tight leading to white gloves, the Wardrobe then shifts to accessories. High-heeled pumps are extruded from the floor, immediately forcing you onto your toes while providing a considerable height addition-- the platforms are quite large. Further up a decorate collar is built around your throat, the blue laminate serving as a choker while also featuring ornamental folds to each side. Final additions come in the form of a small headpiece, a fascinator marked with Club Lush's logo upon the button near its center, and a pair of glasses. The red frames provide a splash of alternative color, but do nothing for your sight. [["Is it.. over?"->BRWardrobe13]] [[Hang limply.->BRWardrobe13]]

One final piece awaits. The printing ring completes its path by rising above you, recessing in the Wardrobe's ceiling as every other armature retreats-- save one that instead emerges, gripping a thin band of metal. Built of simple stainless steel, what you quickly identify as a proper slave's collar is aligned with your throat then pressed against it. The band is installed over the innermost portion of your decorative laminate choker, emerging to visiblity between the folds that flank each side. It's impossible to miss the sharp report of the collar's lock clicking closed. [[Dressing complete.->BRWardrobe14]]

Carefully, the restraining arms begin to release you. One by one your liberty is restored until you stand alone within the Wardrobe, atop your freshly formed platform heels. Even the barest movement of your hips shifts your shirt, flaring it suggestively given the length (or lack thereof). Worse, the same movement allows you to feel the pull of your panties against the ring now piercing your clitoris. *Dressing sequence completed.* (set: $Status to 3) You emerge from the Wardrobe unequivocally changed. Your outfit is different of course, but so is your body, modified with steel to augment and control your sensuality. And there is the collar of course, your ID card being returned to you upon exit. FREEWOMB is still labeled along the top, but over it fresh black ink has been applied, spelling our your new status. **SLAVE** You're not even sure to *whom*. Probably whoever owned Lush. Hopefully, if everything went to plan however, it wouldn't particularly matter. You now have the means to slip past that bouncer at the VIP stairs, to make your appointment. Play this right, and you should be able to simply leave the Club afterward-- and make for the Way Up. By this time tomorrow you could very well be safe in the space station on the far end of the elevator, where Torei's laws did not apply. [[Hopefully it would all be worth it.->BRWardrobe15]]

Backtracking through Lush's restricted areas, you work on growing accustomed to your new outfit. Especially the footwear. Since your dressing this morning you've been forced into heels, but the platforms on these are a new experience, requiring an adjustment to your gait that takes a bit of practice. But you manage, even making it look natural as you push through the final door and emerge back out into the Club proper-- next to the stage. There you pause, taking a moment to observe. Thankfully, your intrusion into the backrooms seems to have gone undetected. The party is still in full swing, and from your vantage you can see several of Lush's other slaves, going about their duties in uniforms exactly the same as your own. At the foot of the stairs the bouncer remains in place as well, arms crossed, looking just as imposing as when you had first met him. Your moment's pause is justified by a fact you hadn't noticed before, however-- those servants who went upstairs always had one of the Club's silver trays, drink in hand. And you don't have one. [[You look around.->BRWardobe16]]

The most obvious source of a tray would be the bar, as you watch the bartender prepare a drink and hand it to Cherish. Would the bartender recognize you, though? Alternatively, you see another tray resting on a booth's table along the side wall. The bartender is not near it, and neither are any of the other serving girls. But the booth itself is occupied, by two men and two women who appear to be tourists. Or you could simply make for the stairs regardless. Perhaps the Bouncer did not pay particular attention? [[Get a tray from the bar.->ServBar]] [[Get a tray from the tourists.->ServTour]] [[Head directly for the stairs.->ServStairs]]

Taking a deep breath, you approach the bar, seeking a tray. The bartender takes his time to reach you, focusing on the customers first, but does eventually step up before you. His eyes fall upon your face for a moment, holding there... and then down to surface of the bar itself, which he polishes with a smile. (set: $BarSaw to true) "Yes?" [["Cheapest beer we got, I was told."->ServBarCheap]] [["Cheapest beer we got, and I'll need a tray."->ServBarTray]]

Taking a deep breath, you approach the tourists in search of a tray. They seem to be a pair of couples, seemingly well into a night of drinking judging by the emptied glasses at their table. They do not notice as you move up alongside their table at all. [[Take the tray quietly.->ServTake]] [["Is everything pleasing, thus far?"->ServAsk]] (if: $PlayE is true)[[[Perform a reverence as a greeting.->ServRev]]]

Boldly, you make straight for the staircase-- damn the consequences. Each step shifts your hips back and forth, and thus the skirt so barely covering them, but its your eyes the bouncer looks to as you move to pass by him and mount the stairs. (set: $Bouncered to true) [[Uh oh...->ServStairs2]]

"Some real big spenders tonight, huh?" The Bartender replies with a wink, as he snaps the cap off a bottle. To your relief he then produces one of the Club's silvered trays, placing the drink upon it before sliding it over. He looks to you, expectantly. [["Thank you."->ServBarEnd]] [["Thank you, sir."->ServBarEnd]]

"It's not my first night on the job," the Bartender muses, with a smile. "Forgetting the trays are standard? I better not see you forgetting to show your panties when you deliver that drink, like a good girl." His tone remains light as he slides the tray and drink your way. [["I won't. Thank you."->ServBarEnd]] [["I won't. Thank you, sir."->ServBarEnd]]

With a sigh of relief you take up the tray in the same manner you had observed the other girls utilizing, perching it atop your fingers and held just above shoulder height. The bartender watches you go for a moment, until a customer calls him to the far side of the bar. [[Whew.->PastBouncer]]

Tray in hand, you make your back across the Club floor, to the staircase and its attendant guard. Perhaps finding a tray *was* a good decision you muse, as the bouncer hardly pays you much attention-- and indeed ignores you altogether when a passing tourist inquires about the VIP area he was guarding. Slipping by, you mount the stairs, undoubtedly providing anyone below with a clear upskirt view given the short length of your new uniform... but that couldn't be helped. Setting the tray down upon the arm of a nearby recliner, you can at last exhale. You made it. [[The VIP area awaits.->VIPStart]]

The tourists in the booth around the table seem embroiled in a conversation, some story regarding the spacecraft that had brought them to Torei, as you reach for the tray. Just as your gloved hands fall upon it, however, one of the women points your way. "Hey! Not even going to ask if we need anything?" She laughs, looking to the male at her side. "Do it to her, Arnsel!" Laughing in turn, Arnsel reaches for the control panel built into the booth-- pressing a button that immediately results in a sharp snap of pain running up from between your legs. Apparently you were already synced to the Club's systems, although its a thought that emerges as a whimpered moan. That draws amusement from all four of your tormentors. [[Take the tray.->ServTake2]] [["My apologies, Mistress, I'm just here for the tray."->ServAsk2]]

Having missed your approach entirely the four in the boot before you turn almost in unison, one of the women speaking up with a finger pointed your way. "Oh, its the slave again! Aren't you supposed to do the thing? Lifting your skirt and showing your panties, I mean?" She laughs, clearly drunk. [[Do as she asked.->ServRev]] [["Actually I'm just here to collect the tray."->ServAsk2]] [[Simply take the tray.->ServTake2]]

Despite their drunkenness, you attempt to provide them with the proper Torean experience-- perhaps the best means of avoiding suspicion. Already drawn up beside the table you lift the front of your skirt and petticoat, revealing the smooth white laminate of your panties as you bow your head in greeting. It goes over with much approval from the tourists, the loudest woman around them clapping her hands. "Arnsel," she laughs, "do the thing! We're supposed to reward them!" Just what that meant is revealed by the male beside her reaching towards the booth's control panel, pressing a button. The ring embedded in your clit sends a shiver of pleasure through you as a result, a wet moan slipping past your lips unexpectedly. That just seems to please the group further. "I told you, they're all whores like that," the other male announces. [["Actually I'm just here to collect the tray."->ServAsk2]] [[Simply take the tray.->ServTake2]]

Snatching the tray, you ignore the shouts of disapproval from the rancorous table you leave in your wake. It's the loudest woman that can be heard announcing she would seek out 'your manager' as you disappear into the crowd. *Well, that could have gone better, but you have the tray!* (set: $TourAng to true) [[On your way to the stairs.->PastBouncer]]

The male nearest you, at the end of the booth, places his hand firmly upon the tray. "This thing?" He asks, looking to the others. All three smile, watching intently as he turns back to you. "I thought you slaves were supposed to *please* us, huh? Lush is known for that. So why don't you come here, sit on my lap?" Swinging out one leg, he slaps his thigh. [["Of course, Master."->ServAsk3]] [["Give me the tray."->ServTakeT]]

Attempting to keep your cover intact, you submit with a smile. Like his three companions the male wears laminate, but of a loose style clearly intended to emulate offworld styles and design. Your own utterly skintight uniform is quite something else, which he quickly ascertains by running a hand around your waist as you settle in. "See, I don't bite," he laughs, even as his fingers run across your abdomen. "Damn, do they paint this laminate stuff on you whores?" [["Actually, yes. Basically.->ServAsk4]] [[That's enough. Take your tray and leave.->ServTakeT]]

"It's those Wardrobe thingers, like I said," the other male all but shouts, only to be mostly ignored by his friend. It's hard to blame him, considering he has you on his lap. "We should get you a skirt as short as this, Marion," he says, using his free hand to run through your petticoats. The woman to his side snorts loudly. "No way in hell. The slaves here, they may like being exposed like that but I sure wouldn't." "No fun," the male replies, before using his hand to lift your chin, looking into your eyes. He's surprisingly gentle. "Is it true? Do you *like* being dressed like this?" [["We wear what we're told to."->ServAskTold]] [["Yes, Master."->ServAskYes]] [[Enough of this. Take your tray.->ServTakeT]]

"Ahhh... a *political* answer," he leers, even as the hand in your skirts slides down, landing upon your the stocking running up your thigh. From there he follows the garter up, to the meeting of your legs and the white panties you wear. In his drunkness he seems to focus overtly on the effort, ignoring his friends who grow a bit impatient as he abandons their amusements to again look you in the eye as he gropes you. "I can do anything I want to you, can't I?" [[Hells no. Take your tray and leave!->ServTakeT]] [["There are... some rules."->ServAsk5]] [["Yes, Master..."->ServAsk5]]

"Oh that's right, I *am* your Master," he leers, even as the hand in your skirts slides down, landing upon your the stocking running up your thigh. From there he follows the garter up, to the meeting of your legs and the white panties you wear. In his drunkness he seems to focus overtly on the effort, ignoring his friends who grow a bit impatient as he abandons their amusements to again look you in the eye as he gropes you. "I can do anything I want to you, can't I?" [[Hells no. Take your tray and leave!->ServTakeT]] [["There are... some rules."->ServAsk5]] [["Yes, Master..."->ServAsk5]]

"Rich folk," the guardsman shrugs, his bulky shoulders making it rather imposing bit of physical theater. "We get all sorts of course. Or do you mean, like, what there is to do up there? Mostly just private suites, but there is a lounge up there too. You know, for those who want to be *seen* in the VIP area." [["So are you a guard or something?"->VIPAsk2]] [["Can I become a VIP?"->VIPPay]] [["I need to get up there. Please. I'll do ANYTHING."->VIPAnything]] (if: $PetrosTry is true and $PetrosFail is false)[[["Actually, I was given permission from Master Petros."->VIPPetrosPass]]] [["Actually, I'm good for now." Step back.->LushHub]]

"Aye," the man nods. "The muscle, basically. Name's Charon, by the way. Good to meet ya. First time at Lush? Folk like me are pretty popular in these sorts of clubs if you weren't familiar. Helps set the mood, so to speak. Especially with the whole being male angle, right? Toreans love that sort of thing." [["You're not Torean?"->VIPAsk22]] [["What's up there, in the VIP area?"->VIPAsk]] [["Can I become a VIP?"->VIPPay]] [["I need to get up there. Please. I'll do ANYTHING."->VIPAnything]] (if: $PetrosTry is true and $PetrosFail is false)[[["Actually, I was given permission from Master Petros."->VIPPetrosPass]]] [["Actually, I'm good for now." Step back.->LushHub]]

"Sure," the bouncer replies amicably. "Full time membership requires a sponsor and all that, but we do offer daily access. At a premium, though. 500 credits for men, 700 for women such as yourself. And before you ask-- no, its pretty much the only thing here we don't accept credit for. You need to have a *positive* account balance. I'm told having one of our VIPs get arrested on the dance floor by Truant Officers would be a bad look for the Club." (if: $debt is > 699)[["I have the credits. And I'm willing to pay."->VIPPay700]] (if: $debt is < 700)[["I... don't have that much."->VIPFail]] [["What's up there, in the VIP area?"->VIPAsk]] [["So are you a guard or something?"->VIPAsk2]] [["I need to get up there. Please. I'll do ANYTHING."->VIPAnything]] (if: $PetrosTry is true and $PetrosFail is false)[[["Actually, I was given permission from Master Petros."->VIPPetrosPass]]] [["Actually, I'm good for now." Step back.->LushHub]]

"You got through to Petros?" Even the idea seems to surprise the bouncer, his arms crossing before his chest as he smiles widely. "Well hells, love, I can't imagine that was easy. He has a reputation, you understand, especially with freewombs. Just let me confirm that, alright?" Flagging down one of the collared serving girls, he directs her towards the fully suited male-- still seated on the couch where you had engaged him. Even from afar you can see the uniformed slave forced to demonstrate considerable submission before he deigns to notice her. She does eventually get the confirmation however, returning to the bouncer with a nod. "Well, go on through, love. You've definitely earned it! And enjoy... whatever it is that brought you to Club Lush's VIP section this evening." [[Ascending the stairs, you enter the VIP area.->VIPStart]]

"Me? Nah. Came here a few years ago, heard the work here could pay well. And it does, for one of my gender. Very well. The planet is a strange place to me still, but hey, that's just how it is, right?" *Strange indeed.* [["What's up there, in the VIP area?"->VIPAsk]] [["Can I become a VIP?"->VIPPay]] [["I need to get up there. Please. I'll do ANYTHING."->VIPAnything]] (if: $PetrosTry is true and $PetrosFail is false)[[["Actually, I was given permission from Master Petros."->VIPPetrosPass]]] [["Actually, I'm good for now." Step back.->LushHub]]

He looks you up and down, a hand coming to his chin. "You'll do... *anything?*" [["Y-Yes..."->VIPAnything2]] [["Anything."->VIPAnything2]] [["Well..."->VIPAnything2]]

"Really?" Despite his relatively laid back attitude, the man seems genuinely surprised. "I hope you won't take offense if I confirm that? Just show me your ID." Handing it to him, he produces a small device from his back pocket. Placing your ID upon it pulls your account information immediately, confirming you indeed have (print: $debt) credits in your account. "Well, alright then," he concludes, pocketing the device again as he hands you back the ID. "If this is really what you want, for 700 credits I'll get you confirmed for a day pass into our VIP area. You'll have full access to the area upstairs, as well as the other standard amenities. How does that sound?" [["Great. Let's do it."->VIPPay7002]] [["On second thought... I want to ask about something else."->VIPPayBack]]

"Hey, don't be so down," the man replies, laying a heavy hand on your laminated shoulder. "Honestly? The day pass hardly justifies itself, unless you're here on a festival day or during one of our theme events. Which you're not. And if you're *really* intent on getting up there, maybe you can find another VIP member to grant you access?" He pauses to wave at one of the collared serving girls walking past, a silver tray in her hand. Then he looks back to you. "Ain't no other way you get up there legitimately, love." [["What's up there, in the VIP area?"->VIPAsk]] [["So are you a guard or something?"->VIPAsk2]] [["I need to get up there. Please. I'll do ANYTHING."->VIPAnything]] (if: $PetrosTry is true and $PetrosFail is false)[[["Actually, I was given permission from Master Petros."->VIPPetrosPass]]] [["Actually, I'm good for now." Step back.->LushHub]]

He holds his pose for a moment longer before breaking into a deep, baritone laugh. "Sorry lass, I'm probably just about the *only* one in this Club that wouldn't exactly work on. Just don't work that way, if you take my meaning. Not to say you're not lovely, of course. (if: $Blue is true)[Metallic blue is one hell of a color.](if: $Smoke is true)[The transparency of your laminate leaves little to the imagination.](if: $Brand is true)[I have always been a sucker for good corsetry.](if: $Sec is true)[Your oufit hugs you in all the right places.](if: $Slave is true)[That slave suit obviously leaves little to the imagination.] But I've got different tastes. You need to pay, or you need someone to sponsor your going up. Sorry." [["What's up there, in the VIP area?"->VIPAsk]] [["So are you a guard or something?"->VIPAsk2]] [["Can I become a VIP?"->VIPPay]] (if: $PetrosTry is true and $PetrosFail is false)[[["Actually, I was given permission from Master Petros."->VIPPetrosPass]]] [["Actually, I'm good for now." Step back.->LushHub]]

(set: $debt to it - 700)With your confirmation he produces his device again to process the order, then holds you for a moment to confirm that the transaction went through. Only then does he stand aside, a gestured arm beckoning you to ascend the backlit staircase. "Well, go on through, love. You've definitely earned it! And enjoy... whatever it is that brought you to Club Lush's VIP section this evening." [[Ascending the stairs, you enter the VIP area.->VIPStart]]

"It's a lot of credits," the bouncer nods, in an understanding fashion. [["What's up there, in the VIP area?"->VIPAsk]] [["So are you a guard or something?"->VIPAsk2]] [["Can I become a VIP?"->VIPPay]] [["I need to get up there. Please. I'll do ANYTHING."->VIPAnything]] (if: $PetrosTry is true and $PetrosFail is false)[[["Actually, I was given permission from Master Petros."->VIPPetrosPass]]] [["Actually, I'm good for now." Step back.->LushHub]]

You read confusion on his face, and yet... he doesn't move to intercede as you climb the stairs. Doing so in your outfit with any dignity is entirely impossible, anyone even near the bottom provided with a clear view up your skirt, but you don't muster the courage to look back down until reaching the top. There you see the bouncer, clearly staring at you. [[Ignore him. You've made it!"->VIPStart]]

"Excuse me?" The loud woman at the man's side had been watching with a growing frown, but she can't hold it in any longer. Instead of directing her apparently quite capable ire at you, however, she levels it solely at the male molesting you. "What *exactly* do you plan to with the whore, Arnsel? Do I need to remind you who your girlfriend is? We're not like *them*, with their open relationships and... and... fucking anything and everything!" Somewhere within the rant Arnsel grips your waist, lifting you back up to a standing position so that he can turn to confrot his girlfriend more directly. Thus begins a rousing argument, one you're fortunately saved from by the other man on the opposite end of the U-shaped booth. (set: $debt to it + 50) "I think we're good, take the tray, and here-- for the trouble." He slides a 50 credit chit your way, a tip of sorts that seeks to compound by pointing towards the table's control console. "Did you want another reward? I wasn't sure if you *actually* like them, or..." [["No, I'm alright." Take the tray and leave them.->PastBouncer]] [["I do, Master. Please, do what pleases you to me."->ServAsk6]] [["...yes, I want the reward..."->ServAsk6]]

He shrugs and reaching out depresses one of the console's buttons. Between your legs the ring embedded in your clit responds immediately, a shot of pleasure running from your womanhood, up your your core, to that soft, warm part of your brain that served as a pleasure center. It felt so *good*, especially when it was some complete stranger whoe held such control over you. That stranger in question watches you intently, ignoring the arguing couple. "How was that?" [["Wonderful, Master."->ServAsk7]] [["Good. Thank you."->ServAsk7]]

"Good." He slides the silver tray your way, even as he slaps you lightly upon the exposed flesh of your rear between stocking and skirt. "Return to your duties, then." [[Taking the tray, you head for the VIP area.->PastBouncer]]

Your (if: $Sec is true)[bare](else:)[gloved] knuckles upon the door echo down the dark hall, the roaring party of the Club floor proper very much subdued this far back. No one answers. [[Knock again.->VIP3]] [["Hello...?"->VIP3]]

You second attempt is met with much the same response. Silence. [[Knock MUCH harder.->VIP4]] [["HELLO!?"->VIP4]]

Just as you raise your nerve enough to attempt something more forceful, the door suddenly swings open-- revealing a bespectacled young man, looking a bit harried. "Oh-- it's *you!*" What had been frustration shifts upon his face, turning into a smile. "I just *knew* you would make it. No one turns it down. And to think I thought you would be late!" He seems to recognize the confusion that forms across your face (if: $Slave is true)[despite your breath regulating mask interceding], but misunderstands its source-- and diagnoses incivility. "Where are my manners-- please, come in, come in. There is no reason to conduct our business in the hallway of all places!" [[Follow him inside.->VIP5]]

Stepping inside the suite reveals it to be sumptuously decorate in dark hues, the most dramatic being laminate material hanging in ridges from a center point in the ceiling to places along the walls-- creating a massive faux-chandelier which reflects the light from sconces set into the walls. So too are you able to look over the man properly, his attire also laminate, a smart suitcoat and tailored trousers rendered in dark grey. His tie is half undone however, a bit of dishevelment that's matched by the parlor you've entered into. A sitting room can be seen through a doorframe to your left, and before you another door stands closed, but its within this small parlor itself it appears the man had been waiting for you. Rubbing his hands together, he smiles widely. "So-- you're here!" [["You're my... contact?"->VIPCon]] [["Who are you, exactly?"->VIPWho]] [["I believe we have a deal to make."->VIPDeal]]

"Oh, don't make it sound so official. I like to think of myself as an... open door, right? Not everyone has to ignore them, after all. And not everyone is as lucky as you are." [["What do you mean, I'm lucky?"->VIPLuck]] [["I think I need some things explained..."->VIPExplain]] [["I'm just here to make the deal."->VIPDeal2]]

"Do we really need to get stuck on that again? I like to think of myself as an... open door, right? Not everyone has to ignore them, after all. And not everyone is as lucky as you are." [["What do you mean, I'm lucky?"->VIPLuck]] [["I think I need some things explained..."->VIPExplain]] [["I'm just here to make the deal."->VIPDeal2]]

"Straight to business! You did seem like a spearpoint, sharp and straight to the action. I like to think of myself as an... open door, right? Not everyone has to ignore them, after all. And not everyone is as lucky as you are." [["What do you mean, I'm lucky?"->VIPLuck]] [["I think I need some things explained..."->VIPExplain]] [["I'm just here to make the deal."->VIPDeal2]]

The man pauses, perhaps for the first time recognizing signs of something more serious in your condition. "Lucky to get this opprotunity! Did something happen? I *was* afraid you were going to back out. That last time when we spoke, when I delivered the card... you seemed a little spooked." Silently you stand in the center of the room, trying to understand what he meant. Was he the contact? Or had he just been a messenger? What was going on here? It's only then that you noticed the suitcase near the door you had entered through, it's entire front opened-- revealing a set of restraints, clearly position for someone to be folded up and locked inside. [["Explain the suitcase. Now."->VIPSuitcase]] [["Are you the person I'm here to meet, or not!?"->VIPMeet]]

The man pauses, perhaps for the first time recognizing signs of something more serious in your condition. "Did something happen? I *was* afraid you were going to back out. That last time when we spoke, when I delivered the card... you seemed a little spooked." Silently you stand in the center of the room, trying to understand what he meant. Was he the contact? Or had he just been a messenger? What was going on here? It's only then that you noticed the suitcase near the door you had entered through, it's entire front opened-- revealing a set of restraints, clearly position for someone to be folded up and locked inside. [["Explain the suitcase. Now."->VIPSuitcase]] [["Are you the person I'm here to meet, or not!?"->VIPMeet]]

The man pauses, perhaps for the first time recognizing signs of something more serious in your condition. "It's not really a deal, persay. You know that right? Did something happen? I *was* afraid you were going to back out. That last time when we spoke, when I delivered the card... you seemed a little spooked." Silently you stand in the center of the room, trying to understand what he meant. Was he the contact? Or had he just been a messenger? What was going on here? It's only then that you noticed the suitcase near the door you had entered through, it's entire front opened-- revealing a set of restraints, clearly position for someone to be folded up and locked inside. [["Explain the suitcase. Now."->VIPSuitcase]] [["Are you the person I'm here to meet, or not!?"->VIPMeet]]

He looks to the suitcase, then gives a disarming smile. "Why, that's how I brought it in here. Just as it wanted." [["What did you bring?"->VIPDae]]

He looks to the suitcase that had caught your attention, then gives a disarming smile. "Not really I suppose, but that's how I brought it in here. Just as it wanted." [["What did you bring?"->VIPDae]]

He blinks. "The Emissary." *Daemon* "It's just through the door, with its offer. Just as I promised when I delivered to you the Black Card, at that hotel you were staying at. Just as I promised when I called you, to come back to Torei. *His words send you reeling. Your deal* **was** *with a Daemon, even if this man was serving as a middle-man of sorts. Turning towards the door he had indicated, the closed one that presumably led to a bedroom, its almost like you can sense it. A slice of divinity, if the AIs were Gods, puppeting a human body like a laminate marionette-- so very close now. Waiting for you. With an offer.* You break from the reverie to find your hand upon the door, all but ready to push it open. [[At least... hear it out. If it could even speak.->VIPDae2]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/rFMXUfL.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> The Daemon, the Emissary, waits for in the center of the room. (if: $Daemon is true)[You saw it before, in that alleyway back on the streets, and its much the same as you had glimpsed there.] It's body is uniformally covered in black laminate, stripping it of any individuality or sense of self. There is no discernable face, only the glossy material remains, stretched so tightly across a male frame as evidenced by narrow hips and wide shoulders. Even so that masculinity is *intense*, as if the Daemon condensed it, adding potency as everything else was stripped away. In that wake of simplified existance you feel your own curvaceous body all the more readily. The swell of your breasts, the smooth run from hip to waist, your pert rear-- the other side of Daemon's equation. It reaches out its hand. [[Take it.->VIPDae3]]

It has no words for you, and you realize then you wouldn't need any. Its grip is firm, having seized your wrist instead of interlocking fingers as equals, drawing you further into the room-- away from the door back into the foyer, and closer to the bed. Where something is laid out upon it. A suit. Black as a night without stars, yet so very reflective, promising to fill that void with sources of light all its own. Smooth. Glossy. Featureless and all-consuming. And yet... *familiar*. Standing there before it, it takes you awhile, but you recognize it. This... was no ordinary suit. This was *your* isolation suit. Careful measurement could have confirmed it, but your gut reaction is more then enough, akin to looking into a mirror. A mirror just like that one you awoke to this morning in that hotel, a mirror you gaze into deeply, seeing not your own reflection but something... else. A shadow of pleasure and ecstasy. The male lifts the helmet, split into two portions yet lacking any hint of a seam. Within you see the impression of a face-- your face. And with it comes recollection. [[You put it all together.->VIPDae4]]

There were never material riches in this deal, and this isn't your first time on Torei. As Corinth had suggested, you had come to this planet once, then twice, then again and again-- utterly enthralled by its possibilities. But you had never indulged, Corinth and the hotel worker had made that clear as well. An odd mixture of intrigue and restraint, perhaps that was what had drawn them to you. The polar AIs, through their Daemon, with an offer you came to fear you would not-- could not-- refuse. Thus the Mem-Burn, the self-bondage. A last desperate attempt to run out the clock, to force the missing of this rendezvous and drive you once more to the Way Up, this time without reason to return. But you had underestimated even yourself, the will that had driven you to this point now all but handing you over to the Daemon. To an offer of rapture and euphoria unending, all for the mere cost of your eternal liberty. This was the deal you stood to make. [[The helmet is yours, you need only take it...->VIPDae5]]

That damnable resolve that had driven you here does not break under the strain, however. This deal is not yet done. But the choice lies starkly before you, that helmet awaiting your presence. To take it would be to give yourself to the AI. Inscrutable, unknowable, as harsh and alien as any being in this universe could be. It would take your body, your liberty, your every waking moment. But in return? The potential for bliss unending, delivered by an immortal AI with untold millennia of experience in the arts of sensuality. Free of conflict and worry, of responsibilities and dilemma. To refuse it would be to set sail upon entirely unknown waters, knowledge of the depths scrubbed away by the Mem-Burn. Perhaps there will reefs ahead an you will founder, to sink anyway. Or maybe-- just maybe-- you could still make it to the Way Up. Escape Torei. Break from the grasp of artifical divinities and mortal Truant officers alike. The choice is yours. [[Take the helmet.->VIPTake]] [[Refuse the helmet.->VIPRefuse]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/RgEruqK.png" width="30%" height="30%"> You accept. Gods help you, you take the helmet into your hands. (if: $Slave is true)[From behind you feel the Daemon removing your breath regulating mask, then slowly peeling away your hood-- giving you a brief taste of freedom even as you lift the helmet.] Slowly, ever so slowly, you bring it up towards your waiting face. How could it this easy, to give up everything? But it is. Damn it all, it's as easy as pressing the helmet to your face. Closer and closer, until finally-- with glorious finality, you feel the impossibly soft laminate of the AI's construction for the very first time. It envelopes your lips, your nose, your chin-- then your entire head in its cool embrace. You're blinded, gagged, deaf, helpless, even as you feel the Daemon moving the back portion into place to complete the seal. Afterward he presses against you, masculinity and femininity joining in rapturous union that takes the form of a simple embrace. Even this first experience feels so strange, so wonderful, so terrifying-- and its only just begun. You're *Lost in Laminate*, and couldn't be happier. [[Twelve Hours Later.->VIPTake2]]

Your hands tremble, the word necessary dying upon your tongue. Rationality and subconscious desires run up against each other, stalling you. You must try harder-- or give in entirely. [[Take the helmet.->VIPTake]] [[Refuse the helmet.->VIPRefuse2]]

That insidious curiosity that has defined you had brought you to this planet, again and again. To look upon its wonders and yet be held apart by an ironclad sense of dignity and restraint. These past few hours since waking, the only ones you can fully remember, had seen to the demolition of that restraint. Now more primal intrigues run rampant, calling for the helmet, for senseless acceptace of eternal servitude. Once more. [[Take the helmet.->VIPTake]] [[Refuse the helmet. "No."->VIPRefuse3]]

**"No."** The words break the spell, your own reflection catching in the glossy play of light along the mask. You step back, even as the Daemon remains, still holding the helmet. [[Run.->VIPRun]]

To persist any longer in its presence would break you, in spite of yourself. Spinning on your heels, you flee. Bursting through the door back into the foyer, you startle the man waiting there from his seat, his confusion evident even as you push by in a flurry of snapping heels and glossy laminate. You leave the suite in as much of a sprint as you can handle, (if: $Ballet is true)[nearly tripping in your ballet heels,] you make for the lights and sounds of Club Lush. Every pounding beat from the music helps to push the allure of the Daemon from your mind, and with a deep sigh of relief you emerge onto the balcony-- coming up against the railing. And it's from there that you can see Truant Officers moving through the crowd. [[What is going on!?->VIPTruant]]

From your vantage, you can clearly see two main groups of Officers, one covering the Club's front exit and the other the rear. The party is still in full swing, Cherish had mentioned such sweeps weren't uncommon, but they do appear to be coordinating so as to check in at every table and with every patron. (if: $BRVIP is true)[Far more distressingly, you notice Akrai's dark red catsuit with black accessories near the front-- she's pinned against the wall by two officers, while a third is directing several more both towards the backroom entrance and towards the VIP stairs. The damnable woman must have been trying to escape, only to have been caught in the sweep-- and if she mentioned your presence in the backrooms, having freed her? At the very least they had to be suspecting someone.](else-if: $BarSaw is true)[Far more distressingly, you notice the bartender talking with several officers near the front door. He's pointing to another of the serving girls, and then in turn towards the VIP stairs. The implication is clear: he *had* recognized you, somehow.](else-if: $TourAng is true)[Far more distressingly, you can see the tourists you interacted with earlier near the front of the Club, speaking with the bartender and several Officers. It appears your earlier storming away from them had led to their promised seeking of a manager, who undoubtedly realized you were not of the Club's usual workforce.](else-if: $Bouncered is true)[Far more distressingly, you can see the VIP section's bouncer near the front of the door, speaking with several of the Officers. If you had been concerned he had recognized your deception upon passing without a tray, that appears to confirm it.](else-if: $SargonNo is true)[Far more distressingly, you can see Tysus Sargon speaking with several Officers near the front doors. She's gesturing aggressively with her hands, then towards the stairs leading up to the balcony upon which you stand. She *had* expressed a desire to see you punished for refusing to tell her about your deal, and it very much looks like she's making good on the threat now.](else-if: $SargonBother is true)[Far more distressingly, you can see Tysus Sargon speaking with several Officers near the front doors. She's gesturing aggressively with her hands, then towards the stairs leading up to the balcony upon which you stand. She *had* expressed a desire to see you punished after bothering her too far about being taken up into the VIP area, and it very much looks like she's making good on the threat now.](else-if: $PetrosTry is true and $PetrosFail is true)[Far more distressingly, you notice Petros standing near the front with several other Officers. You're familiar enough with his body language that even masked as he is you can make out anger, apparently being directed towards the VIP section's stairs behind you. He *had* spoken of a desire to see you punished after failing to please him, and it appears he's now making good on that threat.](else:)[Miraculously you believe you've avoided making any enemies during your time at Lush, or at the very least you don't see any particular attention being directed towards the balcony you stand upon, but you could never really feel safe with Truant Officers around.] (if: $debt is < 0)[There is the matter of your account balance to consider as well, your efforts having run you down into negative territory. If they're checking for debtors, and its reasonable to assume they would, you have a major problem on your hands.](if: $Servant is true)[ And of course, it simply would *not* end well if they found you wearing the collar and uniform of a Lush slave. Even ignoring the possibility of the contract you signed actually being enforced, they could also charge you for false impersonation-- or probably a myriad of other, far more Torean crimes.](if: $Slave is true)[And of course, you just *know* they are unlikely to treat a freewomb in a slave-coded uniform very well. That's just to be expected.] If those Officers detain you, there will be no way for you to make it back to the the Way up. You cannot risk it. (if: $CherishT is > 0)[[[A hand falls upon your shoulder.->VIPCherish]]](else:)[[[Plan your move.->VIPTruant2]]]

From your vantage upon the balcony, you at least have the perfect position from which to plan your next move. A quick count reveals about a dozen officers, four near the front door, six at the rear, two moving through the Club itself. That made sense-- as you had seen on your way in, most of the traffic the Club saw used the rear entrance, while the front was reserved for men or those freewombs willing to pay a premium. (set: $EscapePath to 0)(set: $TruantCount to 0)(set: $Wanted to 0) Unfortunately it becomes quite clear that your options are limited, and your quickly running out of time. Deciding on focusing on the front door is easy enough, given the fewer Officers. But what then? The most straightforward approach would be to simply approach them, although that would be akin to giving yourself up if they had any particular reason to arrest you. Still-- anything else would be suspicious at the very least. Alternatively, you could try to blend in with the crowds, then make a run for it if they noticed you. (if: $CherishPlan is true)[With Cherish's promised assistance, perhaps you could even pull it off(if: $Servant is true)[-- although given your new uniform, and the fact none of the other similarly dressed slaves are near the door? Perhaps not].](else:)[The chances of success seem quite low, however. It looks like they're checking everyone leaving or entering(if: $Servant is true)[, and certainly none of the other slaves dressed like you are being let through].] The only other option would be something far more... dramatic. Turning to your left, you can see a small panel built into the wall, painted red. FIRE ALARM is stenciled atop it. Pulling that would incite chaos, making it almost trivial to slip out... but that would be blatantly illegal, the consequences unknown. [[Approach the Officers directly. I have nothing to fear.->VIPTruantGive]] [[Approach the Officers directly. I don't want any further trouble.->VIPTruantGive]] [[Attempt to blend in, only making a run for it if necessary.->VIPTruantRun]] [[Pull the fire alarm, escape in the chaos.->VIPTruantFire]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/Dw2IHpb.png" width="30%" height="30%"> They have you now. (set: $DaemonEnd to true)(set: $Status to 4) Your Isolation Laminate is as perfect as you had been lead to believe. Moreso even. The experience of wearing it, in its entirety, is beyond description. And that was *before* the pleasure cycles had started. You lost count of your orgasms somewhere in the twenties, and that had been hours ago when it had directed you to the bed. Now you're utterly lost to the rapture, to its pleasure. Sometimes the male joins you, but other times he's absent from the room. You're not sure why. It's not your concern. It never should have been. Is the absence of ecstasy a feeling? Already you cannot imagine it, but look upon it like a nightmare, horrific and unreal. Only the shame remains, and that grows dimmer with each sensation that emanates from your tortured, rapturous cunt. The thought of your womanhood sends your hands downward, playing across your encapsulated breasts, down along your strictly corseted waist, to the meeting of your thighs. You cannot enter yourself, *They* have already claimed you, but the suit rewards your promiscuity nevertheless. Pleasure atop pleasure. Writhing, moaning, you cum again. [[And again... and again...->VIPTake3]]

Understanding had come to you slowly, but They had made it clear. That lingering shame you wrestled with, at having given yourself to this fate, it could be so easily done away with. If you were admitted to *yourself* you could not control what was happening to you, there would be no guilt. Just pleasure. Always pleasure. You cum again, arching your back, feeling the suit sucking on your nipples, draining some liquid down your throat. The details didn't matter, not when you could be cumming again. But instead They ask you to rise, and you do. Why wouldn't you? The male awaits, perhaps he had been beside the bed this entire time. He presses his hand against your sealed cunt, claiming it. But it was not him, it was Them. Just as your hand against his bulge is not your own, its their will-- you just obey. Together you submit, as you always will. You emerge out into daylight, the warmth of it upon your obsidian skin so very wonderful. Where are you? It doesn't matter. What are you doing? It doesn't matter. The crowds along the sidewalks part as you pass, their whispered words allowed to reach your ears. *"Daemon..."* [[Six months later.->VIPTake4]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/F4Lv8oM.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> She was taking to her Isolation Laminate well, just as you had imagined. An offworlder, well traveled and curious, a story similar to your own. Perhaps that was why you had been directed to offer the Black Card, to meet with her in this dimly lit warehouse. To make an offer, a deal, one she had accepted. And thus They would have another to question, to examine, to learn more of the galaxy you and she had traveled so extensively. But motives hardly matter. Instead you're directed to submit, and of course you do. You would further her pleasure, quicken the transition. Thus they command. Kneeling atop the bags that served as her bed, your black laminate bodies press together and she rouses, eagerly embracing you. Soon you're cumming in unison with the other Daemon. (set: $Ending to 1) [[Pleasure, unending...->Ending]]

Turning with surprise, you find Cherish behind you. "(if: $Servant is true)[How did you end up wearing one of... nevermind. ](if: $PetrosFail is true or $SargonNo is true or $SargonBother is true or $BRVIP is true or $BarSaw is true or $TourAng is true or $Bouncered is true or $debt is < 0)[What are you doing up here? They're looking for you! I heard them mention you, although I don't know why. You're going to be in BIG trouble!"](else:)[Sorry to scare you like that, but I saw you up here and had to see what was going on. This can't be good, at least for someone like yourself. They don't care about the normal slaves here."] She looks to, smiling earnestly. "I can help you get out of here if you need the help." [["Why do you want to help me?"->VIPCherish2]]

"When you... purchased me, earlier tonight? In the private room I mean. You were kind, and you played with me gently. Few people are. So I want to return the favor, alright? You're going to have to make for one of the two doors, which the Officers are already watching. But when you get close, I'll make a distraction-- and that should allow you to slip out!" She seems very earnest about the entire idea. [["A great plan, let me figure out which way I'm heading first."->VIPCherishAccept]] [["No way. I can't trust a slave, sorry."->VIPCherishReject]] [["I don't want to get you in trouble, Cherish."->VIPCherishReject]]

(set: $CherishPlan to true)"Great!" The servant cheers, almost a bit too loudly. Covering her mouth with a gloved hand, she smiles nevertheless and steps back-- allowing you to plan your move. [[Plan your move.->VIPTruant2]]

"I mean... I guess I understand." Still, she seems rather put out to have been shot down in that manner. "I won't interfere, then, at the very least. Okay?" Stepping back, she moves to head back downstairs as you take stock of the situation. [[Plan your move.->VIPTruant2]]

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Moving back towards the Wardrobe Device only serves to shift your plugs further, the effort proving to be utterly in vain anyway when the door refuses to open to you again. Instead you're left with only your haunting desire... [[It feels... so... good...->Slave Pause II]] [[No... not... in a hallway...->Slave Pause II]]

Collecting your courage, you take a deep breath and turn towards the stairs down from the VIP section that had taken so much effort to climb. You have decided to approach the Officers directly. Moving through the crowds on the Club floor proper, you perceive a distinct uneasiness despite the ongoing party. No one seemed to enjoy when the Ministry of Truants was on the prowl. The four officers near the front doors soon come into view, matching blue uniforms as glossy as any Club-goer's cocktail dress or catsuit. [[You step into the space before them.->VIPTGive2]]

Unwilling to risk the Truant Officer's attention, you choose to balance your risk, and attempt a quiet exit-- resorting to something more dramatic only if it became necessary. Hoping that it wouldn't you turn and make your way down the steps from the VIP section that had taken so much effort to climb. Moving through the crowds on the Club floor proper, you perceive a distinct uneasiness despite the ongoing party. No one seemed to enjoy when the Ministry of Truants was on the prowl. The four officers near the front doors soon come into view, matching blue uniforms as glossy as any Club-goer's cocktail dress or catsuit. A crowd of people surrounds them in a half-circle, some merely gawking, others actively speaking with some of the Officers. Taking quick stock, you determine moving through the crowd to the wall directly nearest the doors would be your best bet. From there it would be a simple enough task to time it right and cross the short distance to the door-- and thus freedom. The only question is how to best traverse that crowd. [[Move through the thickest part, at the center of the crowd.->TruRunMid]] [[Stay as far away from the Officers as possible, move along the back of the crowd.->TruRunBack]]

Faced with impending crisis, you act boldly indeed. The Ministry of Truants held power over Freewombs and slaves alike because of their institutional order, throwing that into momentary chaos thus gave you the best chance to escape. Striding with purpose to the fire alarm, you remove the protective panel and pull the lever found within. Pandemonium breaks out immediately as alarms cut through and then silence the pounding music, followed shortly thereafter by the spray of water that comes from sprinklers hidden in the ceiling. As you move to go down the VIP stairs that had taken you so much effort to ascend you can see panic spreading as the crowds below begin rushing the exits. The line of Truant Officers guarding the front door collapses in the onslaught of bodies, which you soon join. (if: $CherishT is < 0)[Your escape would have gone easily enough, if not for the interference of a wholly unexpected force: a figure in the light blue uniform of the Club. Cherish. Amongst the chaos she's suddenly before you, alongside an Officer that she had been leading. "That's it! Her!" [[Betrayal!->VIPFireCherish]]](else:)[A singular glossy body in a flood full of them, you merely ride the flow towards the front doors, and eventually out them altogether. There the crowd thins out, a powered sledge stacked with cages, several already filled with the Truant Officer's earlier catches, is passed as you move to put distance between yourself and the scene behind you. [[Keep moving!->VIPFirePass]]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/eYFZt2O.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> A familiar face seems to be leading the effort. Truant Officer 2nd Class Kaori Nikaido, the one you had met earlier that day. She had been searching for a runaway slave, (if: $TruantQuestEnd is true and $TruantStat is 1)[which you had located and turned in.](if: $TruantQuestEnd is true and $TruantStat is 2)[which you had not only located, but sweetened by giving up Elizabeth, the woman who had been helping the slave.](if: $TruantQuestEnd is true and $TruantStat is 3)[which you had located but then lied about, protecting the slave and assisting instead the Liberty Society.](if: $TruantQuestEnd is false)[which you had been tasked with assisting in, but had abandoned instead.] She's sure to remember that-- as evidenced by the way she steps up, blocking a colleague's approach to address you herself. (if: $Servant is true)["You've certainly been busy, ending up wearing something like that," she notes, indicating your new uniform. "And a collar too? Not surprising, I suppose, that you would submit to one."](else-if: $Slave is true)["Well, look who we have here. My erstwhile assistant, in her own little slave suit. I wouldn't have recognized you, of course, but I set your ID to proximity ping me when we first met."](else:)["Well, well, well, we meet again. Small Ringdom, isn't it?"] [[Perform a reverence. "Hello, Officer."->VIPGRev]] [["Hello, Officer."->VIPGGreet]]

(if: $Servant is true)[Reaching down with your white-gloved hands, you grip the front of your jaunty little skirt, pulling it and the petticoat beneath up to display your panties in a proper reverence. Bending at the waist and curtsying, you complete the maneuver in one smooth motion.](else-if: $Sec is true)[Reaching down, you grip the front of your snug little skirt, pulling it up to reveal yourself to the officer. Bending at the waist and curtsying, you complete the maneuver in one smooth motion.](else:)[Bending at the waist as best you can, you lower your arms and bow your head, cutsying in a smooth motion-- a proper Torean greeting of reverence.] It seems to impress the Officer. "I'm always pleased to see an Offworlder fully embracing our culture," she notes. (if: $PetrosFail is true or $SargonNo is true or $Servant is true or $SargonBother is true or $BRVIP is true or $BarSaw is true or $TourAng is true or $Bouncered is true or $TruantQuestEnd is false or $debt is < 0)[Even so, she gestures with a hand to her fellow Truant Officers. "Arrest her." (set: $EscapePath to 1) [[!!!->VIPArrest]]](else:)[(set: $EscapePath to 0)Even so, for a terrifying moment you get the feeling that she's about to order your arrest-- but instead she merely adjusts the laminate of a collar a bit, before looking to you again. "Looks like you made it downtown, just as you intended, hm?" [["That I did, Officer."->VIPGNo]]]

The Officer sighs a bit. "You should really have learned how to perform a proper reverence, by now. We don't ask much of you tourists when you come here, but respecting our culture at the very least would be nice. And some of your people call us barbarians?" (if: $PetrosFail is true or $SargonNo is true or $SargonBother is true or $BRVIP is true or $BarSaw is true or $TourAng is true or $Bouncered is true or $TruantQuestEnd is false or $debt is < 0)[Raising a hand, she gestures with it to her fellow Truant Officers. "Arrest her." (set: $EscapePath to 1) [[!!!->VIPArrest]]](else:)[(set: $EscapePath to 0)For a terrifying moment you get the feeling that she's about to order your arrest-- but instead she merely adjusts the laminate of a collar a bit, before looking to you again. "Looks like you made it downtown, just as you intended, hm?" [["That I did, Officer."->VIPGNo]]]

Hauled out the front door by Nikaido and her assisting Officer, you're pushed up against the window opposite Lush's door-- as you had seen going in, the buildings here were all incapsulated in hallways to comply with curfew laws. (if: $EscapePath is 3)[Behind you the sound of the fire alarm cuts out, its false nature presumably determined. Water from the sprinklers still runs in rivulets down your laminate, however.] (set: $Status to 5)(set: $PrisonerEnd to true) "You're under arrest," Nikaido repeats as your hands are forced behind your back, then rudely cuffed together. "For (if: $BRVIP is true)[assisting in the failed escape attempt of registered slave Akrai.](else-if: $BarSaw is true)[trespassing into authorized areas within Club Lush.](else-if: $TourAng is true)[trespassing into authorized areas within Club Lush.](else-if: $Bouncered is true)[trespassing into authorized areas within Club Lush.](else-if: $SargonNo is true)[noted insolence to a member of House Sargon.](else-if: $SargonBother is true)[noted insolence to a member of House Sargon.](else-if: $PetrosTry is true and $PetrosFail is true)[failure to satisfy the terms of a temporary contract verbally agreed to with Master Petros.](else-if: $debt is < 0)[being in a public forum as an outstanding debtor, currently at (print: $debt) credits.](else:)[attempting to flee from an Officer of the Ministry of Truants.] (if: $EscapePath is 1)[Luckily you gave yourself up, or I would be adding resisting arrest to that.](if: $EscapePath is 2)[As well as resisting arrest.](if: $EscapePath is 3)[As well as resisting arrest, and causing a public panic!]" With your arms secured Nikaido spins you around, glaring imperiously at you. "(if: $TruantStat is 0)[In fact, since you just **abandoned** my search for Amadori, I've been looking into you.](if: $TruantStat is 1)[In fact, since you helped me find Amadori I've been looking into you.](if: $TruantStat is 2)[In fact since you helped me find Amadori and that bitch helping her escape I've been looking into you.](if: $TruantStat is 3)[In fact, since told me Amadori was gone I've been looking into you.] So let's run down your situation, hmm?" [["O-Okay..."->VIPArrest2]]

"Well," she replies, "(if: $TruantStat is 1)[Thanks again for your assistance with that runaway, earlier. Having that whore's Master off my back is one hell of a relief. Although it did free me up to come run these kamned Club checks. The work never ends I suppose.](if: $TruantStat is 2)[Thanks again for your assistance with that runaway, earlier. Having that whore's Master off my back is one hell of a relief. Although it did free me up to come run these kamned Club checks. Catching that trafficker though, the Elizabeth woman? I suspect I won't have to for much longer, probably have a promotion coming my way.](if: $TruantStat is 3)[I'm still pissed we never found that whore Amadori. It's the only reason I'm here, running routine club sweeps now. But it isn't your fault, you did bring me proof she had slipped by us. So at least I'm not wasting my time on a goosechase when the goose is outside my jurisdiction.]" The Officer shrugs. "I suppose you're free to go. Keep out of trouble." [["Oh I will, Officer."->TravelElevatorStart]]

The center of the crowd might provide you with the most cover, but its also quite congested-- and you're the only one moving parallel to the Officers. (if: $Servant is true)[Your new uniform's skirt doesn't help matters either, its bright color and widely flared pleats drawing altogether too much attention.](if: $Slave is true)[Your slave uniform's mask doesn't help matters either, the restriction it forces on your field of view causing you to occasionally bump into other Club-goers, and few react kindly to your apparent slavery.] (if: $Ballet is true)[For the first time you're also suddenly aware of the effect your ballet boots may have on this entire effort, the way they restrain and restrict your every step making the prospect of potentially having to run for it dicey indeed.] Yet you do make it to your intended goal, the wall that eventually turned into the short hallway that led to the front door. Unfortunately your time is running out. Your passage *had* left enough of a wake of disturbance that one Officer in particular seems to be searching for the cause. Stay where you are much longer, and you will be discovered. Make for the door, and you'll only stand out further. Damned if go, damned if you remain. (if: $CherishPlan is true)[Yet it is in that moment that Cherish breaks from the crowd far from the door, a loaded tray of glasses held upon a tray before her-- that she drops, creating a tremendous noise that draws all manner of attention her way. She had lived up to her promise of help. [[This is your chance!->TruRunEsc]]](else:)[[[You don't have a choice. Run for it!->TrunRunFail]]]

The back of the crowd might keep you furthest from the Officers near the door, but they're not the only ones in the building. Moving along the back exposes you to the pair roaming the rest of the Club. (if: $Servant is true)[Your new uniform's skirt doesn't help matters either, its bright color and widely flared pleats drawing altogether too much attention.](if: $Slave is true)[Your slave uniform's mask doesn't help matters either, the restriction it forces on your field of view causing you to occasionally bump into other Club-goers, and few react kindly to your apparent slavery.] (if: $Ballet is true)[For the first time you're also suddenly aware of the effect your ballet boots may have on this entire effort, the way they restrain and restrict your every step making the prospect of potentially having to run for it dicey indeed.] Yet you do make it to your intended goal, the wall that eventually turned into the short hallway that led to the front door. Unfortunately your time is running out. Your passage *had* left enough of a wake of disturbance that one Officer that had been near the bar seems to be searching for the cause. Stay where you are much longer, and you will be discovered. Make for the door, and you'll only stand out further. Damned if you go, damned if you remain. (if: $CherishPlan is true)[Yet it is in that moment that Cherish breaks from the crowd far from the door, a loaded tray of glasses held upon a tray before her-- that she drops, creating a tremendous noise that draws all manner of attention her way. She had lived up to her promise of help. [[This is your chance!->TruRunEsc]]](else:)[[[You don't have a choice. Run for it!->TrunRunFail]]]

Breaking from the crowd and moving as quickly as possible towards the exit was bound to attract attention, but Cherish's distraction gives you a tremendous headstart. (if: $Sec is true)[Your hands](else:)[Your gloved hands] are already on the door before you hear a shout from behind you. Risking a glance over you shoulder you see one of the Officers pointing your way. "You! (if: $Slave is true or $Servant is true)[Slave!](else:)[Freewomb!] Stop, in the name of the Ministry of Truants!" You're not particularly sure of Torei's laws, but if 'resisting arrest' was common among the other planets of the galaxy, you can only imagine how it would be applied to a woman here. Another step further and you'll be a fugitive. [[Shove open the door and run for it!->TruRunEsc2]] [[Halt, and throw up your hands.->TruRunStop]]

The odds are against you. Between the crowd that was your cover and the freedom the front door recommended is a considerable space, and crossing it at speed was always bound to attract attention. You've barely made it a few steps before one of the Truant Officers looks your way, drawing a stun baton even as her other hand points your way. "You there! Stop!" It becomes a footrace after that, one you cannot hope to win given the strictures of your (if: $Blue is true)[heeled boots](if: $Smoke is true)[heeled boots](if: $Brand is true)[ballet heels](if: $Sec is true)[tight skirt and pumps](if: $Slave is true)[slave suit](if: $Servant is true)[uniform and heels]. Just as your hands find handle of the door you feel something hard come up against the back of your thighs, followed by a sharp pain that forces your legs to give out underneath you. Instead of flinging the door open you instead collapse against it, the Officer holding the baton come up against you from behind, already pulling your arms behind you. "Big mistake," she growls. [[Indeed.->TruRunFailMeet]]

(set: $EscapePath to 2)Shoving through the exterior door, you emerge back out into the enclosed pathways that led between downtown Aekora's many nighttime establishments. A powered sled marked with the Ministry of Truant's logo sits parked near the entrance, several cages stacked atop it-- a few of them occupied by unfortunates already picked up in the Officer's sweep. It's powerful motivation as you dash towards the nearest crossing of hallways. (set: $Wanted to 1) Your chances were slim, but Cherish's action and your resultant head start prove to be just the right formula for what you quickly realize is becoming a successful escape. By the time you're at busy crosswalk the Officers are just emerging, heads snapping around as they try-- and fail-- to find you. "I recognized her," you nevertheless hear from the leading Officer, and indeed you in turn remember her. <img src="https://i.imgur.com/eYFZt2O.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> Truant Officer 2nd Class Kaori Nikaido, the one you met earlier today, looking for that escaped slave. She had scanned your ID, and if she *did* remember you... You keep moving, resting only several blocks away. Your liberty remains intact, but there would undoubtedly be an arrest warrant issued for you soon. Making for the Way Up is your only chance of escape now. [[Take a short rest.->TravelElevatorStart]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/eYFZt2O.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> (set: $EscapePath to 1) Fearing you would only make it worse by running, you hesitate-- and then step back from the door. The Officer that had first noticed your attempt and that now approaches is surprisingly familiar: Truant Officer 2nd Class Kaori Nikaido, the one you had met earlier that day. She had been searching for a runaway slave, (if: $TruantQuestEnd is true and $TruantStat is 1)[which you had located and turned in.](if: $TruantQuestEnd is true and $TruantStat is 2)[which you had not only located, but sweetened by giving up Elizabeth, the woman who had been helping the slave.](if: $TruantQuestEnd is true and $TruantStat is 3)[which you had located but then lied about, protecting the slave and assisting instead the Liberty Society.](if: $TruantQuestEnd is false)[which you had been tasked with assisting in, but had abandoned instead.] Now she seizes your wrist, spinning you around as another officer moves up to assist. "You're under arrest." [[Uh oh.->VIPArrest]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/eYFZt2O.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> (set: $EscapePath to 2) Briefly the Officer holding you comes into view, and is surprisingly familiar: Truant Officer 2nd Class Kaori Nikaido, the one you had met earlier that day. She had been searching for a runaway slave, (if: $TruantQuestEnd is true and $TruantStat is 1)[which you had located and turned in.](if: $TruantQuestEnd is true and $TruantStat is 2)[which you had not only located, but sweetened by giving up Elizabeth, the woman who had been helping the slave.](if: $TruantQuestEnd is true and $TruantStat is 3)[which you had located but then lied about, protecting the slave and assisting instead the Liberty Society.](if: $TruantQuestEnd is false)[which you had been tasked with assisting in, but had abandoned instead.] Now however she merely shoves you towards the front door, as another Officer comes up to assist. "Your under arrest." [[Oh no.->VIPArrest]]

Walking down the covered streets of Grand Aekora, you come to terms with a simple fact: you're free. Despite the dragnet of Truant Officers still working Club Lush over, you were not caught up in it-- an outcome that feels incredibly significant. (if: $Wanted is 0)[Trusting in your innocence, and having carefully managed your supply of credits, the Officers had no reason to detain you.](if: $Wanted is 1)[Through guile and a bit of luck you escaped them, although its apparent now that they're soon to label you a fugitive. Still-- to fall into their hands would have certainly been worse.] Escape remains(if: $Slave is true or $Servant is true)[ relatively ]open you. The Way Up looms on the horizon, and its towards which you march. [[Onward!->TravelElevator2]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/eYFZt2O.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> (set: $EscapePath to 3) The near stampede you had incited now prevents your escape as the Officer grabs you roughly, and in that moment you recognize her. It's Truant Officer 2nd Class Kaori Nikaido, the one you had met earlier that day. She had been searching for a runaway slave, (if: $TruantQuestEnd is true and $TruantStat is 1)[which you had located and turned in.](if: $TruantQuestEnd is true and $TruantStat is 2)[which you had not only located, but sweetened by giving up Elizabeth, the woman who had been helping the slave.](if: $TruantQuestEnd is true and $TruantStat is 3)[which you had located but then lied about, protecting the slave and assisting instead the Liberty Society.](if: $TruantQuestEnd is false)[which you had been tasked with assisting in, but had abandoned instead.] Now however she forces you with the crowd, soon joined by another Officer as they lead you towards the front door. "You're under arrest!" She shouts over the noise of the crowd. In your wake, Cherish is left behind, but does shout loudly as well: "that's for being so rough during the private session!" [[Damn her.->VIPArrest]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/eYFZt2O.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> (set: $EscapePath to 3)(set: $Wanted to 1) Just as you reach the safety of a busy crosswalk some ways further out you look back, and catch sight of a familiar woman. Truant Officer 2nd Class Kaori Nikaido, the one you had met earlier that day. She had been searching for a runaway slave, (if: $TruantQuestEnd is true and $TruantStat is 1)[which you had located and turned in.](if: $TruantQuestEnd is true and $TruantStat is 2)[which you had not only located, but sweetened by giving up Elizabeth, the woman who had been helping the slave.](if: $TruantQuestEnd is true and $TruantStat is 3)[which you had located but then lied about, protecting the slave and assisting instead the Liberty Society.](if: $TruantQuestEnd is false)[which you had been tasked with assisting in, but had abandoned instead.] Now however she is doubled over, panting from the effort of fighting through the chaos you had left. "I know it was her, I swear I saw her in the crowd!" She tells the other Officer beside her. "The one from earlier today! Come on, let's put out a bulletin." Thankfully she doesn't notice you, but the implication is clear: you're soon to be a wanted woman on Torei. Even fleeing the Ringdom wouldn't help, as the Ministry of Truants stretched beyond borders. There is nothing you can do about it, though, and thus you instead move off further-- until coming to a halt several blocks away to take stock. [[You escaped!->TravelElevatorStart]]

She stares at you, a bit dumfounded. "You want more then the required one? That's... a very enthusiastic approach to the sort of fun we like here, at CLub Lush." Reading between the lines, you feel if you weren't a prospective patron of the Club she would have just called you a slut. As it is, she holds up her glass, waiting to confirm. "You sure?" (if: $Blue is true or $Smoke is true or $Brand is true or $Slave is true and $Wet is false)[[["On second thought, maybe just the bands?->ClubBands]]] (if: $Blue is true or $Smoke is true or $Slave is true or $Sec is true)[[["On second thought, maybe just the ballet?"->ClubBallet]]] (if: $Slave is true)[[["On second thought, just the plugs, but I... already have those."->ClubPlugs]]](else:)[[["On second thought, just the plugs?"->ClubPlugs]]] [[I'm sure. All of them."->ChooseAll2]]

"Well then," The employee claps her hands together. "Alright! We need only wait here, and one of our slaves will bring them out for you-- we have our own wardrobe machines within, of course." It's a promise kept in short order, although you're too far away from the door to truly observe from the slave anything more then a flash of blue and a scandalously short skirt. Your attendent returns soon after, holding up the gear for your observation. (if: $Blue is true or $Smoke is true or $Brand is true or $Slave is true and $Wet is false)[(set: $Wet to true)The bands are first, circles of glossy laminate she holds strethced between thumb and forefinger. "Leg up, one at a time." Sliding them into place proves easy at first, but grows progressively harder-- by the time she seats them properly upon your upper thigh they're quite tight. They're red, the lettering as bold as it is white-- **FUCK** on one, **TOY** on the other. It's hard not to blush just thinking about wearing them in public, and harder still when you notice several of those in the line staring at the additions to your wardrobe.] (if: $Blue is true or $Smoke is true or $Slave is true or $Sec is true)[(set: $Ballet to true)The heels are *staggering*, the design clearly intended to quite literally keep you on your toes. Matched to your laminate's color, they appear intended to rise to your mid-calf and are topped along the uppermost rim with a locking band that would prevent access to the lacing once put into place. Motionioning for you to sit down, she slides them onto your feet with the practiced hands only Torean experience could provide. Even standing still requires a demonstration of balance, while walking leaves you wobbly and teetering. The attendant pauses to give you some time to practice, and eventually you *do* manage to not embarrass yourself.] (if: $Slave is true)["We need only sync your suit controls to my glass, for the plugs." ](else:)[Now come the plugs, a pair of phallic devices held before her, one in each hand. Actually installing them takes some effort, the public nature of your position and their sheer size making it quite the challenge-- but the attendant's hands are practiced... and your body is strangely willing. Afterward she holds up her glass, finger poised over a ready button.] (set: $Plugs to true) "Now we just need to test the plugs. Ready?" [[You nod.->ChooseAll3]]

The held finger descends, to be met immediately by a purr between your legs. Your hips twitch of their own accord, the laminate intruders installed there dancing to life. Still standing in line, you try to bite down on the moan that rises to your lips, but its a losing effort. It feels so *good*, even when emanating from the device up your ass. So good, in fact, a wave of disappointment rises when they suddenly cease working. "I see you like it," the attendent muses, with a knowing look. "Their activation is semi-randomized, and intended to tease. Most girls don't get an orgasm out of it... but you *will* be nice and wet. Now come on, let's head up to the front. You earned it." At the door (if: $Brand is true)[you're halted once more, the attendant looking to you. "Normally you would be allowed in now, but we do need to address your suit as I said-- we can't have unregulated adverts, it looks... tacky."](else:)[the bouncer guarding it gives way, pushing open the door as your attendant waves you ahead. "We hope you enjoy your time at *Lush!*"] (if: $Brand is true)[[["So what is going to happen?"->BrandHold]]](else:)[[[Music pulses through you.->MeetCherish]]]

Allowing the other Officer to hold you steady, Nikaido pulls up her *glass* to read off of it. "To begin with-- we got a report of debts incurred at the Diarch's Choice hotel this morning, although that was written off by the hotel itself, so we can't hold that one against you. (if: $TruantQuestEnd is false)[Then you failed to assist an Officer, namely me.] (if: $BRVIP is true)[You assisted in the escape attempt of a registered and collared slave, stupid girl tried to leave just as we came in. She gave you up too, of course, after some persuasive efforts.] (if: $BarSaw is true)[You were seen by Club Lush's owner, the man running the bar tonight, dressed and collared as you are now-- which means he has a claim on you.] (if: $TourAng is true)[You were reported by several unhappy patrons as having served poorly, which Club Lush's owner-- the man working the bar tonight-- pointed out was quite interesting given he did not own you. But he very well may now.] (if: $Bouncered is true)[You were reported by the bouncer near the stairs and clearly aren't a slave of Club Lush's owner-- the man working the bar tonight-- but he very well may have a claim on you now.] (if: $SargonNo is true)[You earned the displeasure of Mistress Tysus Sargon, apparently for refusing some manner of request she made regarding her research? Bad idea, that. The Sargons are basically royalty here in Aekora.] (if: $SargonBother is true)[Tysus Sargon reported you bothered her about being taken into the VIP area as well, and she is far above your social status.] (if: $PetrosTry is true and $PetrosFail is true)[Master Petros informed us that you entered into a contract with him, verbally, and then failed to hold up your end by acting insolent. He is not the sort of man you do that with.] (if: $EscapePath is 2)[Resisting arrest, too.] (if: $EscapePath is 3)[Resisting arrest and causing a public panic too.] (if: $debt is < 0)[And you are currently running a negative balance, a punishable offense.] (if: $Servant is true)[She looks up to you. "All of that as a freshly registered slave, according to the automated registration on our network. Which you *do* have the collar to prove."](if: $Slave is true)["All of that while under certain slave codes, given the legal pecularities of your suit."] (if: $Servant is true)[[["I can explain the uniform I'm wearing, and the collar. I didn't agree with anyone to be a slave."->VIPArrestServant]]](else-if: $Slave is true)[[["Certain slave codes?"->VIPArrestSlave]]](else:)[[[You swallow hard.->VIPArrest3]]]

Pinned against the window, you cannot retreat as Officer Nikaido leans in closer. "Can you? Because I have a double-confirmed submission of slavery in my files with your name on it. I have you standing before me, wearing the collar associated with it. And if I go inside and pull the security footage, I bet I find video of you signing the kamned thing." She flicks the hem of your skirt. "I hope whatever your motive was, it was worth it. Because Master Kaleb, who owns Lush, owns that collar and you as well now. And I would think it likely he will ask for your release to him. You're a Torean slave now." [[You swallow hard.->VIPArrest3]]

Pinned against the window, you cannot retreat as Officer Nikaido leans in closer. "Wearing a standardized slave suit as you are isn't just a fashion statement. With it comes the application of certain parts of the Aekoran Slave Codes. I'm not going to explain the details, but pretty much every infraction you've incurred has additional penalties if done while enslaved-- and Aekoran courts will count you as such." [[You swallow hard.->VIPArrest3]]

"So what are we going to do with her?" The question comes from the second officer who is still holding you firmly. Nikaido considers for a moment, then pushes the brim of her cap back a bit. "That depends on our Truant, I supposed. Does she admit to the charges brought against her? (if: $Servant is true)[You're already enslaved, but I would imagine you would be kept in one of our punishment sarcophagi for a few weeks as the details are worked out."](else:)[Given the charges you're looking at a considerable length of time spent in one of our punishment sarcophagi, until a Court can hear your case. After that? I would imagine mandatory enslavement."] [["I do NOT admit to these charges, Officer!"->VIPArrest4No]] [["I... yes, I admit to these charges, Officer."->VIPArrest4Yes]] [["I want to talk to a lawyer."->VIPArrestLawyer]]

"That's a shame," Nikaido replies, with a frown. "But not unexpected. Fine. I'm going to need some time to consider how I want to handle this, I think." She nods, as if only then finding her own conclusion acceptable. "Put her with the others, in a detention cage for the time being. This entire situation is going to be a hell of a lot of paperwork." The other Officer nods, tightening her hold on your arm. "Restraint level?" Nikaido smiles. "Maximum." [["Now wait a minute!"->VIPArrest5Fight]] [[Allow yourself to be pulled along.->VIPArrest5]]

"Good girl," Nikaido replies, nodding. "I'm going to need some time to consider how I want to handle this, I think." She nods, as if only then finding her own conclusion acceptable. "Put her with the others, in a detention cage for the time being. This entire situation is going to be a hell of a lot of paperwork." The other Officer nods, tightening her hold on your arm. "Restraint level?" Nikaido smiles. "Maximum." [["Now wait a minute!"->VIPArrest5Fight]] [[Allow yourself to be pulled along.->VIPArrest5]]

"A lawyer?" Nikaido replies, with a frown. "Oh, you'll get one. Eventually. After a few days, or weeks of detention. Now, I'm going to need some time to consider how I want to handle this, I think." She nods, as if only then finding her own conclusion acceptable. "Put her with the others, in a detention cage for the time being. This entire situation is going to be a hell of a lot of paperwork." The other Officer nods, tightening her hold on your arm. "Restraint level?" Nikaido smiles. "Maximum." [["Now wait a minute!"->VIPArrest5Fight]] [[Allow yourself to be pulled along.->VIPArrest5]]

With you arms already cuffed behind you, and the Truant Officer without any such restrictions, its not exactly a fair fight as she rounds on you, shock baton in hand. Their Ministry's favorite weapon is deployed with blunt determination, being slid quickly between your legs before the switch is flicked. The electrical discharge is *intense*, your laminate offering absolutely zero protection as you're given a good long taste. Afterward, gasping a bit from the experience, the Officer drags you far more easily towards your fate. [[Ouch...->VIPArrest5]]

Just what 'being put with the others' meant is revealed soon after, as the Officer leads you towards a machine somewhere between a proper flatbedded vehicle and a smaller transport device. Marked with the Ministry of Truant's livery, its a sensible enough choice for a police force operating within Grand Aekora's strange covered walkways. A crowd is formed around it already, the reason why becoming clear as the Officer pushes through. The back of the vehicle is a flatbed, atop which are stacked a number of steel cages. Featuring bars on all four sides, with what appears to be a top portion that could be unlocked to provide access, they're quite small-- and already some are occupied. The prisoners are dressed in varying manners, undoubtedly because they were picked up somewhere else tonight by the Officers sweeping the Clubs, but their situation is universal. Each is locked into an individual cage, laying on her back with legs folded but spread. Some are gagged and most are moaning, but the sound of vibrators at work is universal. Each cage also has a pair of handcuffs clipped just outside, and it appears many of the unfortunates have their wrists restrained by them, the bars far enough apart to allow hands to pass through at least. [[Torean justice at its finest.->VIPArrest6]]

The sounds of the prisoner's distress only grows louder as you approach, thus presumably accounting for the crowd, many of them looking like tourists. Leading you to an empty cage, the Officer swings the top panel open. "This one is all yours, (if: $Servant or $Slave is true)[slave](else:)[whore.]" She unfastens your cuffs, although maintains a firm grip on your shoulder in the event you suddenly grew skittish. "Up and in you go now, just like the others. Works best if you lay back first, then fold in your legs. You *will* keep them spread." [["Yes, Officer."->VIPArrest7]] [["Fine, fine..."->VIPArrest7No]]

Without anywhere to run, you can only carefully step up onto the vehicle's flatbed, (if: $Ballet is true)[your ballet heels making it a precarious effort indeed, ]before turning around and momentarily taking a seat on the lip of the cage. From there you lean back carefully, settling back down into a cage just barely wide enough to hold you-- and certainly not long enough. As you had observed of the others, and as the Officer had commanded, you're thus forces to fold your legs and spread them, allowing you just enough clearance to be below the lip. To your left a woman in red and black laminate watches you with forlorn eyes, her red laminate catsuit ornamented with black accessories. (if: $BRVIP is true)[You recognize her as Akrai, what must have been a failed escape attempt having now caught you up as well. With a laminate panel across her lips and presumably a gag beneath that she cannot speak, but its easy enough to read melancholy on her expression.] She moans lewdly, the hum of powerful vibrators terribly audible. At least the cage to your other side is unoccupied. Hooked to the portion of the cage nearest your head are a set of handcuffs, and while your hands would have to be slipped outside the cage to use them the Officer notices your attention and intervenes. "Those are only if you *want* them," she grins. What could that mean? She doesn't explain, but instead climbs up onto the flatbed. (if: $Slave is true)["I'm going to take your mask off, then I want your mouth open. Is that understood?"](else:)["Mouth open."] [["Yes, Officer..."->VIPArrest8]]

Reaching up, the Officer grabs one of your nipples, tweaking it hard. Simple, yet quite effective in getting your attention. (if: $Pierced is true)["Pierced, huh? Of course you are."] She narrows her eyes. "Don't take that tone with me. You will use my title, or you will regret it. Is that clear?" [["...yes, Officer.->VIPArrest7]]

(if: $Slave is true)[Undoing your mask's locks with the overrides all Truant Officers must possess, you're soom freed of the infernal breath regulator, returning you to a (slightly) more natural state of only the laminate hood that covers everything excepting your eyes and mouth. Carefully the Officer places your mask beside you, in the cage.] Reaching to her belt, the Officer then produces something you're unfortunately familiar with-- a ball gag, along with a full head harness. With your mouth held open as requested its easy for her to slide the shiny orange ball between your lips, seating it firmly behind your teeth as she works to secure the straps. One by one they're tightened until she's satisfied, finishing the installation with a pair of small padlocks, one on the buckle behind each ear. With that accomplished she jumps down from the flatbed only to then reach to your cage door, swinging it back into place, and locking it with a third padlock-- this one quite heavy. Settling into the small confines of your cage, adjusting to the sensation of your ballgag between your teeth, the Officer however intervenes-- she's not done yet. "You will keep your legs spread." <img src="https://i.imgur.com/MsZYkqY.png" width="60%" height="60%"> [[Why?->VIPArrest9]]

(if: $Plugs is true)[Sliding a of *glass* device from her hip, the Officer consults it for a moment even as her hand slides between the bars and up between your legs, landing upon the base of the plugs sealed within there. "As I thought," she muses. "Whore like you already has plugs? Good. Well I'm syncing to them now."](else-if: $Servant is true)[Reaching between the bars, and thus between your legs, the position on your back provides easy access to the white panties of your uniform. Unceremoniously she pushes them aside, revealing your cunt and asshole. "I am going to be installing a set of plugs within you," she warns, pulling back for a moment to retrieve a pair of truly horrid looking dildos. Rendered in bright orange laminate, their thick shafts appear to be accuarely modeled, the faux veins becoming even more visible as she pours a bit of lube upon them. No other warning is given before she drives them into place, starting with the vaginal one before progressing to the rear. In short order you feel utterly filled, the walls of your cunt in particular quaking from the new intruders. "I'm syncing with them now," the Officer narrates nonchalantly, holding a *glass* device in hand. "And... ah, I see you have a clit piercing. Let's access that too."](else:)[Reaching between the bars, and thus between your legs, the position on your back provides easy access to the (if: $Sec is true)[area within your pencil skirt.](else:)[zippers of your catsuit, which is opens.] "I am going to be installing a set of plugs within you," she warns, pulling back for a moment to retrieve a pair of truly horrid looking dildos. Rendered in bright orange laminate, their thick shafts appear to be accuarely modeled, the faux veins becoming even more visible as she pours a bit of lube upon them. No other warning is given before she drives them into place, starting with the vaginal one before progressing to the rear. In short order you feel utterly filled, the walls of your cunt in particular quaking from the new intruders. "I'm syncing with them now," the Officer narrates nonchalantly, holding a *glass* device in hand.] [["Mmmmgh..."->VIPArrest10]]

"There we go," the Officer announces, apparently achieving just what she had sought to do. "Now here is the trick-- while detained you're under orgasm restrictions. If you cum, that would be another mark on record. And you really don't need more of that right now. But your plugs are *not* going to be set with a denial mode. Keeping yourself from climax is going to be up to you, truant." She flicks the cuffs hanging from the end of the cage. "Feel free to use those if you need them, although do be aware most judges consider their use to be admissible in court as proof of low impulse control." Looking around you recognize most of the other detainees have restrained themselves in that manner. The Officer meanwhile only grins, holding up her *glass* so you can watch as her finger descends. "Have fun." [[Your plugs shift...->VIPArrest11]] [[You let time slide quickly by... (Skip the Ride)->VIPSkip]]

...and then thrum to life. Front and rear, the thick laminate rods slotted so easily between your legs dance with a fury that catches you by surprise-- even knowing what was coming. The sensations are as deeply pleasurable as they are maddening, the muscles of your womanhood pulling tight against them without any real control your part. Nor can you prevent the way your legs seek to straighten, you thighs trying to move further apart. The cage itself intercedes there however, keeping you neatly constrained. (if: $Plugs is true)[Having grown somewhat accustomed to being plugged, its still difficult to endure.] It's not long before the first moan slips around the ball forced between your lips, joining the lewd chorus of other similarly tortured slaves and freewombs. The small crowd around the police sledge remain as well, your violation being little more then amusing theater to them. (set: $Strike to 0)(set: $PP to 0)(set: $OO to 0)(set: $Cuffed to false)(set: $EscapeC to 0)(set: $Strikefix to false) How you endure this is entirely up to you, but as the Truant Officer moves away you do remember her words: *orgasming would be considered a transgression, while restraining yourself would be considered proof of a lack of self-control on your part. A lose/lose situation, but you must try your best.* [["Mmmmmgh...."->ArrestRoll]]

(if: $Strike is 4 and $Strikefix is false)[[[Someone approaches...->Event1]]](else-if: $Strike is 8 and $Strikefix is false)[[[The Officers return...->Event2]]](else-if: $Strike is 10 and $Strikefix is false)[[[The sledge lurches...->Event3]]](else-if: $Strike is 13 and $Strikefix is false)[[[Your vehicle slows...->Event4]]](else-if: $Strike is 15 and $Strikefix is false)[[[Officers lead someone your way...->Event5]]](else-if: $Strike is 17 and $Strikefix is false)[[[Everyone is loading up again...->Event6]]](else-if: $Strike is 20 and $Strikefix is false)[[[Again the sledge slows...->Event7]]](else-if: $Strike is 22 and $Strikefix is false)[[[The Officers approach...->Event8]]](else-if: $Strike is 23 and $Strikefix is false)[[[Other cages go...->Event9]]](else-if: $Strike is 24 and $Strikefix is false)[[[All alone...->Event10]]](else-if: $Strike is 25 and $Strikefix is false)[[[Your cage is pulled down!->Event11]]](else:)[ (set: $Strike to it + 1)(set: $PP to it + 2)(set: $Strikefix to false) (if: $Strike is < 9)[You are locked within the small cage forced upon you by the Ministry of Truants, just outside the front entrance to Club Lush. Even from here you can hear the pounding of the music within, while from between the bars you can see club-goers once again entering or leaving as well. A small crowd, many of them tourists, are much closer however-- their attention very much on you and the other caged girls, all enduring the same predicament.](if: $Strike is 9 or 10 or 11 or 12 or 13)[You're traveling now, the electric sledge upon which your cage among many is stacked gliding quietly through the crowded halls that surrounded most of downtown Grand Aekora. Nearly everyone you pass glances in towards the cages, although upon seeing so many bound and writhing women the response varies considerably. Empathy. Curiosity. Amusement. And sometimes? *Even envy.*](if: $Strike is 14 or 15 or 16 or 17)[Having exited the covered walkways, the sledge and thus your cage now sits beneath the evening stars. Curfew is firmly in place and the streets are all but deserted. Near the front of the vehicle you can hear Officer Nikaido speaking quietly with several of her subordinates.](if: $Strike is 18 or 19 or 20)[Once again you're on the move, the sledge gliding through the night. Above you the stars twinkle quietly, so very far away. Instead of flying between them you're down here, dressed in glossy laminate, locked into a small cage. You try not to linger on the thought that this may very well be your life going forward.](if: $Strike is > 20)[You've arrived at the direct line to the Way Up, if the neon sign upon the covered awning is anything to go by. Shuttles occasionally run off into the night, but your attention is much more fixated on what little you can see occuring through the opened double doors of the building proper. Figures in black are visible, but your cage prevents you from truly seeing what was going on inside. How soon until its your turn?] (if: $PP is < 5)[Your vibrating intruders purr happily within you, inciting your passions. As of now it is more of a frustration, but every passing second sees your mind focusing further on the warm holes between your legs.](if: $PP is 5 or 6 or 7 or 8)[Lesser concerns slip from your attention as the ache between your legs grow. Locked inside your small cage, you're growing frantic with desire, even as you try to focus on something-- anything-- else.](if: $PP is > 8)[All you can think of is your cunt and rear, as well as the twin cocks shoved inside them. You're panting now, drool running down from your gag as you occasionally moan-- a bitch thoroughly in heat. It won't be long now before you cum. Do you even want to resist that?] (if: $PP is < 5)[[[Silently endure.->ArrestNothing]] [[Scream for help.->ArrestScream]] [[Struggle as best you can!->ArrestPull]] (if: $Strike is < 23)[(if: $BRVIP is false)[[[Turn to the woman in the cage to your left.->ArrestAkrai]]](else:)[[[Turn to Akrai, in the cage to your left.->ArrestAkrai]]] (if: $Strike is > 15)[[[Turn to the newly caged woman, to your right.->ArrestRight]]]]] (if: $PP is < 9)[(if: $EscapeC is > 8)[You now know there is no early escape.](else:)[[[Look for a way out!->ArrestEscape]]] [[Try to focus, suppress your pleasure.->ArrestSupp]]] (if: $PP is < 12)[(if: $Cuffed is false)[[[Play with your own body.->ArrestPlay]] [[Rub between your legs.->ArrestPlay2]]](if: $Cuffed is true)[[Play with yourself!->ArrestedCuffPP]]] (if: $PP is > 11)[[[Cum like the whore you are.->ArrestCum]]] (if: $Cuffed is false and $PP is < 12)[[[You cannot trust yourself-- use the cuffs, restrain your arms!->ArrestUseCuffs]]]]

(if: $Cuffed is true)[With your arms locked securely above your head by the cuffs you've made use of, the options allowed you are fewer-- but simply remaining as still as you can in still one of them. Closing your eyes for a bit you try to think of absolutely nothing at all.](if: $Cuffed is false)[Given your predicament, remaining still is neither easy nor simple. Intrusive thoughts creep in, dangerous and yet enticing. *Play with your tits. Rub your cunt. *Suck on your gag.* But you hold out, closing your eyes for a bit if only to remain focused.] This doesn't appear to be affecting your condition one way or the other. [[Sometimes doing nothing is the best we can hope for.->ArrestRoll]]

(set: $Rando to (random: 1,5))(if: $Rando is 1)[(if: $Ballet is true)[Maneuvering your booted feet, you lock your ballet heels around one bar in particular-- heel on one side, toe on the other-- and push as hard you can.](else:)[Maneuvering your heeled feet, you slide your stiletto against one bar in particuar, until it rests in the nook where heel met foot-- and push as hard as you can.] It's a good effort, but in the end you succeed in neither shifting the bar or even moving your shoes. After being in such footwear all day being off them is nice, but the strict position required of you remains. This doesn't seem to have affected your condition, but trying again could always have a different result.](if: $Rando is 2)[Your cage may be small, but you thrash within it as best you can, trying to gain even a hint of mercy from your restraints and situation. Instead you merely shift your plugs a bit, adding slightly to the pleasure building between your legs.(set: $PP to it + 1)](if: $Rando is 3)[Your plugs are by far your most frustrating bondage and its there you focus, shifting your hips back and forth as much as your cage would allow. Unfortunately its a vain effort, you could never hope to remove them. Instead you merely shift your plugs a bit, adding slightly to the pleasure building between your legs.(set: $PP to it + 1)](if: $Rando is 4)[(if: $Cuffed is true)[Having submitted to the self-bondage of restraining your own hands outside your cage, their ability to aid in your struggle is severely reduced. Still, with the clink of their metal connecting chain you grab the bars nearest your head, thrashing against them for as long as you can. In the end however you're only left panting a bit from the effort. This doesn't seem to have affected your condition, but trying again could always have a different result.](if: $Cuffed is false)[Reaching up above your head you grab the nearest bars, squeezing the metal tight against your palms before thrashing as hard you can. In the end however you're only left panting a bit from the effort. This doesn't seem to have affected your condition, but trying again could always have a different result.]](if: $Rando is 5)[Arching your back, you thrash within your cage as much as it would allow. It's a losing battle from the very start, one that leaves you a bit winded afterward but otherwise not making progress. The Ministry of Truants was many things, but poor cage-makers they were not. How many other Truants had suffered as you do right now? This doesn't seem to have affected your condition, but trying again could always have a different result.] [[With a sigh you settle back...->ArrestRoll]]

(set: $Rando to (random: 1,4))(if: $Rando is 1)["Mmmmmmmmgh!" Your ball gag prevents anything like actual words, but you allow your frustration to compensate, leaning into the effort as if trying to force the ball out by the strength of your lungs alone. It is, of course, quite impossible. As you lapse back into silence a rivulet of drool runs down your cheek.](if: $Rando is 2)["Mmmmmgh..." Thoroughly gagged and incapable of speech, you instead add to the quiet moans emanating from several of the other cages nearby. Your dress and reasons for being caged may be different, but the women locked up nearby are undergoing the same predicament. Sometimes moaning is all that could be left to you.](if: $Rando is 3)["Mmmgh, mmmph, mmgh!" Pleading. Begging. Either way, your attempt at speech falls far short. Your gag prevents it, the shiny orange ball lodged between your lips reducing you to moans. It's honestly humiliating.](if: $Rando is 4)["Mmmmmmmmmmmmgh..." Your scream is long and low, more a moan that's given directly into your ball gag. Your position and cage prevent you from noticing who, but somewhere nearby seems to respond with a similar sound. Empathy? It's hard to tell.] This doesn't seem to be affecting your condition, but could always be different next time.. [[Damn this gag.->ArrestRoll]]

(if: $BRVIP is true)[Only now, with the benefit of hindsight, can you see how releasing Akrai all but damned you. Caught once before by her own admission, she had directly led to your own predicament now. Still-- those are familiar eyes you see in the cage next to you, and that's something of a comfort.](if: $BRVIP is false)[You know not the name of the woman locked into the cage beside you, but her red laminate is distinctive at least. She's gagged with a smooth panel across her hips, the hood she wears sporting clips for just such a use, but otherwise her situation appears to be much the same as your own.] (if: $Strike is < 10)[Her hands remain free, the cuffs hanging from her cage unused.](if: $Strike is > 9)[She has given herself into further bondage, the cuffs hanging from her cage used to prevent her own desires from running rampant.] (set: $Rando to (random: 1,3))(if: $Rando is 1)[Meeting your gaze, she slides in her cage as best she can, pressing herself against the bars. Just what she wanted to communicate is lost to the sound of her gagged mewling. That you fail to understand seems to frustrate her, almost as if she expected a different result. With enough practice, could a slave learn to understand gagged speech? This doesn't seem to have affected your situation, but trying again could always produce a different result.](if: $Rando is 2)[Meeting your gaze, the caged slave does not try to communicate. Instead she merely holds your eyes for a considerable length of time. Soon you find your breathing syncing with her, growing slower... a bit more calm. When trying, she can be surprisingly soothing it seems. This has helped your situation somewhat, who knows what will happen next time?(set: $PP to it - 1)](if: $Rando is 3)[Looking to her, you find the slave writhing in her small cage. She's fighting as best she can, arching her back, shoving her booted feet against the bars, but you sense she's on the very edge of orgasm. If she noticed your attention she doesn't return it. Her struggling is... strangely arousing. This as affected you slightly, but could be different next time.(set: $PP to it + 1)] [[You're sisters in frustration, at least.->ArrestRoll]]

The girl you had witnessed being arrested and detained occupies the other cage to your side. Her mixing of laminate and offworld textiles mark her as a tourist as readily as the terror in her eyes. Despite your own amnesia, you feel like a veteran in bondage to her. (if: $Strike is 15 or 16)[Not much time has passed since the girl had been interned, but already she's struggling with the sensations emanting from her own cunt. Her hands slip down, to her own hips, first trying to adjust the plugs sealed within and then merely stroking gently. You get the distinct sense she won't last long. This hasn't affected you, but who knows what could happen if you check in on the girl in a little bit?](if: $Strike is 17 or 18 or 19)[You've traveled a bit side-by-side now, and turn to find the girl already struggling-- and failing-- to resist the call of pleasure emanting from her cunt. With a gagged moan she finally crests that hill, tears running down her cheeks as she struggles in vain against the predicament. Nor does it leave you unaffected, your observation of her achieving release deeply enthralling. It's impossible to tell what checking in with her again would involve.(set: $PP to it + 1)](if: $Strike is 20 or 21 or 22)[She may have only undergone the caged experience for half the time as you, but she's already given in. Looking to her now you see she has made use of her cuffs, locking her hands beyond the cage in a desperate attempt to halt the pleasure. Even without her own hands her own body still betrays her however, which you observe firsthand as she cums hard. Instead of her earlier thrashing she seems almost resigned, moaning lewdly into her gag. Her orgasm may have made your own cunt ache, but the defeat in her posture serves as a stark warning. Altogether the effect is about even on you.] [[Poor girl.->ArrestRoll]]

(set: $EscapeC to it + 1)(if: $EscapeC is 1)[Despite your predicament, you refuse to give in-- either to the pleasure building between your legs, or the sense of defeat that clearly marks so many of the others in their cages. Moving your head back and forth, you look for a way to free yourself. It takes a bit, but you eventually hone in on the hinge of the cage door above you. The top right corner looks a bit rusted-- you can just imagine the Truant Officers leaving their charges exposed to the elements on occasion-- and could perhaps be broken. But the cage itself makes that difficult, your room for maneuver severely restrained. At best you can can try to put pressure on the cage's lid, an effort that could take some time. Keep focusing on escape to try.](if: $EscapeC is 2)[Having identified a potential weakness in the cage, you begin working on it. (if: $Cuffed is false)[Reaching up you place both hands on the lid of the cage, then *push* with as much force as you can manage.](if: $Cuffed is true)[Your decision to restrain your own arms have made this effort much more difficult, but you try regardless, sliding your cuffed wrists as far as possible, allowing you to grip the lid and *pull*.] You're not particularly well built for this however, and the cage leaves little room to maneuver. You will need to make multiple attempts at the very least.](if: $EscapeC is 3 or 4 or 5)[Having established your plan and how to enact it, you focus on the simple work of repeatedly trying the hinge. This will take repeated effort.](if: $EscapeC is 6 or 7 or 8)[The hinge has shifted a bit, you're sure of that. But it will still take repeated effort to complete the effort.](if: $EscapeC is > 8)[One last time you try-- and are rewarded by the creak of the hinge above you. Success! With a smile around your gag you (if: $Cuffed is true)[maneuver your cuffed hands to seize the lid.](else:)[seize hold of the lid with both hands.] Once more... and the hinge snaps off, revealing a second inner one. Utterly pristine, of stainless steel. The hinge was *never* weakened, merely the protective cap upon it was. There is no escape, and that realization hits you hard. The cocks installed in your cunt and ass seem to churn all the more, their pleasure building rapidly within you. Dammit, dammit, dammit...] (if: $EscapeC is > 8)[This has signficantly changed your predicament.(set: $PP to it + 5)](else:)[At least the effort involved has focused your attentions away from the intruders still vibrating within you. This has help you combat them slightly.(set: $PP to it - 1)] [[You take a break.->ArrestRoll]]

Locked into a cage, under the threat of further punishment if you give into the sensations emanating from your cunt and rear, you focus as best you can on utterly suppressing that pleasure. It's not easy, not with so many potential distractions. Nor is it exciting. But you have to try. You focus on your breathing, inhaling(if: $Slave is true or $Brand is true)[ as much as your corset would allow], holding, then exhaling slowly. Again and again, a simple mantra that helps center you. Keeps the promise of rapture at bay. Can you keep this up? That's impossible to tell, but it has certainly helped this time. (set: $PP to it - 2) [[Whew.->ArrestRoll]]

The purr between your legs is insistent, and locked inside your cage you have nowhere to run. Sure the Truant Officer threatened you with further punishments if you climaxed, but surely just a bit of self-teasing and play couldn't hurt-- right? (set: $PP to it + 1) (set: $Rando to (random: 1,10))(if: $Rando is 1)[Within the small confines of your cage your reach towards your own breasts, the ministrations from between your legs have already hardened the nipples your fingers settle upon. Through the tight laminate you (if: $Pierced is true)[can feel the metal buds that marked your piercings as well, the idea of being modified so permanently deeply entralling to you in that moment.(set: $PP to it + 1)](if: $Pierced is false)[can feel the nubs made eager despite it all.] Gently pinching and tweaking them feels *wonderful*, drawing a wet moan from your gagged lips along the way.](if: $Rando is 2)[Reaching to your own breasts, your (if: $Sec is true)[bare fingers](else:)[gloved fingers] begin to trace small circles around the nipples beneath the tight laminate. You thrust your own chest out to further the teasing, arching your back along the way.](if: $Rando is 3)[Sliding your hands down, they fall upon your own hips. Wide and distinctly feminine, you trace the smooth curve from waist to widest point, the self-teasing wonderfully stimulating.](if: $Rando is 4)[Reaching up to your own head, your fingers trace carefully around your full lips-- then run up against the ball seated between them. Being gagged was deeply embarrassing, the right to speech as fundamental as could be, but in that moment it only furthers your arousal to know it has been denied you.](if: $Rando is 5)[Reachind down your hands settle upon the long heels emerging from your shoes, gripping them tightly. It's a posture that allows you to flex your hips a bit, furthering the churning between them in a way that leaves you momentarily speechless. It felt so *good.*](if: $Rando is 6)[Crossing your arms beneath your chest, you hug yourself, thinking long on just what was happening. Locked into a small cage, you're every hole is in use-- the gag between your lips, the dancing dildos lodged inside cunt and rear. Without a single hand being placed upon you, you are beind thoroughly dominated. And it was *exciting* you.](if: $Rando is 7)[Reaching down to your waist, you allow your hands to trail along the glossy laminate there, so smooth as to be almost frictionless. (if: $Slave is true or $Brand is true)[The corset you wear still embraces you tightly, garment enforcing an hourglass shape that feels as strangely empowering as it does undignified. You have exchanged comfort for a more pleasing figure, and in that moment you recognize that pleases *you* as well. (set: $PP to it + 1)](else:)[The material is as warm as the flesh beneath it, and tight enough as to be all but indistinguishable. As your fingers cross your abdomen they come across your naval, made evident by slight indentation. Laminate was truly an experience to wear.]](if: $Rando is 8)[Closing your eyes, you begin to move your hands across your body. Fueled by the vibrators continuing their relentless work its almost too easy to imagine the hands upon you are not your own, but someone else's. Male, female-- it makes no difference. The point is that they are foreign, and you're helpless to resist. Why does that induce such excitement in that moment, such pleasure? Its not something you can explain, but you do announce it with a wet moan-- it joins the sounds emanating from the other cages upon the sledge.](if: $Rando is 9)[Crossing your arms before you then press them to your chest, reveling in the distinct sensations of your own feminity. Smooth and curvaceous, gentle and fully-figured. With the twinned clocks claiming you below, those feelings only seem to be amplified. Unable to help yourself, you moan quietly.](if: $Rando is 10)[(if: $Blue is true)[Looking down, you take in the sight of your own body, somewhat folded up by the confines of the cage but cloaked in so much glossy blue laminate. The seams of your suit decorate your curves, emphasizing the cups that hold your breasts, and the full figure of your hips and waist. Cloaked in such laminate you're undeniably worthy of attention, and that's *before* one considered the black restraints scattered about your frame. It's hard to recall what initially drove you to choose the outfit, but you can't find yourself regretting it now as you suckle upon the orange ball between your teeth.](if: $Smoke is true)[Looking down, you take in the sight of your own body, somewhat folded up by the confines of the cage but cloaked in so much glossy smoke-colored laminate. The seams of your suit decorate your curves, emphasizing the cups that hold your breasts, and the full figure of your hips and waist. Cloaked in such laminate you're undeniably worthy of attention, and that's *before* one considered its transparency-- denying you even the modicum of decency other catsuits would have allowed. It's hard to recall what initially drove you to choose the outfit, but you can't find yourself regretting it now as you suckle upon the orange ball between your teeth.](if: $Brand is true)[Looking down, you take in the sight of your own body, somewhat folded up by the confines of the cage but cloaked in so much glossy black laminate. The logos enforced upon your suit decorate your curves, emphasizing the cups that hold your breasts, and the full figure of your hips and waist. Cloaked in such laminate you're undeniably worthy of attention, and that's *before* one considered the accessories that came with it-- most notably your corset and heels. The former trims your proportions while emphasizing your bust and hips, focusing and refining your femininity. The latter, meanwhile, demonstrate your dexterity as much as they improve your posture. It's hard to recall what initially drove you to choose the outfit, but you can't find yourself regretting it now as you suckle upon the orange ball between your teeth.](if: $Sec is true)[Looking down, you take in the sight of your own body, somewhat folded up by the confines of the cage but cloaked in so much glossy white and red laminate. The seams of your bodice decorate your curves, emphasizing the cups that hold your breasts, while the skirt handles the full figure of your hips and waist. Cloaked in such laminate you're undeniably worthy of attention, and that's *before* one considered the bright red lipstick that added just the right *pout* to your lips or the peplum skirt that decorated your midsection. It's hard to recall what initially drove you to choose the outfit, but you can't find yourself regretting it now as you suckle upon the orange ball between your teeth.](if: $Slave is true)[Looking down, you take in the sight of your own body, somewhat folded up by the confines of the cage but cloaked in so much glossy black laminate. The slave suit's strict demands decorate your curves, emphasizing the cups that hold your breasts, and the full figure of your hips and waist. Cloaked in such laminate you're undeniably worthy of attention, and that's *before* one considered the accessories that came with it-- most notably your corset and collar. The former trims your proportions while emphasizing your bust and hips, focusing and refining your femininity. The latter, meanwhile, marks you as distinctly subordinate. A slave, by legal definition if not full reality, and unworthy of one's respect. It's hard to recall what initially drove you to choose the outfit, but you can't find yourself regretting it now as you suckle upon the orange ball between your teeth.](if: $Servant is true)[Looking down, you take in the sight of your own body, somewhat folded up by the confines of the cage but cloaked in so much glossy blue and white laminate. The servant's livery decorates your curves, emphasizing with a faux belt your trim waist while the skirt emerged to demonstrate your hips and feminity. Cloaked in such laminate you're undeniably worthy of attention, and that's *before* one considered the collar pulled tight around your throat. It marks you as distinctly subordinate: a slave and unworthy of one's respect. It's hard to recall what initially drove you to choose the outfit, but you can't find yourself regretting it now as you suckle upon the orange ball between your teeth.]] This experienced has heightened your desires a bit. [[Was it worth it?->ArrestRoll]]

(set: $Rando to (random: 1,10))(if: $Rando is 1)[Throwing caution to the wind, you reach down between your legs, planting the heel of your palm firmly upon the frontmost plug. Grinding forward shifts it, changing where the rancorous vibrator was pressed against. Fresh pleasure results, burning through your cunt as you moan lewdly.](if: $Rando is 2)[Your hand comes to find the base of your rear plug, the vibrator built into its core churning merrily away. Even just a thumb upon it, shifting this way and that, amplifies the effect further. You moan into your gag, legs squriming against the bars of your cage.](if: $Rando is 3)[Arching your back in a display of dexterity, your press your womanhood-- and thus the dildo entombed there-- against the top bars of your cage. Moaning loudly from the resultant pleasure, you're only able to hold the position for a bit before your strength gives out and you settle back down.](if: $Rando is 4)[With one hand on your (if: $Slave is true or $Brand is true)[corseted] waist, your other slides down, fingers running against the slick laminate covering your torturous vibrators. Yet instead of running from the sensations you embrace them, pressing against the plug, urging it further. Drool runs down your chin as you moan lewdly.](if: $Rando is 5)[Biting down on your gag, you give into temptation, two fingers settling upon the base of your vaginal plug. Even just pressing lightly induces incredibly pleasure, but you go further, tapping the cock in a rhythm that soon matches its variable vibrations. Wriggling in your cage, you moan with ecstasy.](if: $Rando is 6)[Reaching down with both hands, your fingers slide from your thighs to the meeting of your legs, eagerly seeking the base of the dildos still running so vividly there. Pressing against them, stroking the smooth laminate pulled across them-- you further their efforts, peaking your desire as rapture emerges from your lips in the form of a gagged moan.](if: $Rando is 7)[Shifting in your small cage, you grip the barred lid with one hand as the other dips down, exploring your laminated womanhood. This time you content yourself with teasing, feeling the warmth building there as you stoke it, sending tingling pleasure down your spine. It's not long before you momentarily close your eyes, quivering from the excitement.](if: $Rando is 8)[Quivering in your small cage, you reach down to further your pleasure, ignoring the dangers of overindulgence. It feels so *good* to run your fingertips over your slick laminate, moving with the pulses emanating from your tortured cunt. Moaning into your gag, you keep at it for some time, pausing only when your wrist grows soar.](if: $Rando is 9)[Allowing the bliss of sensuality to build further within you, biting hard into your gag you rub at your wet cunt with eager fingers. Laminate intrudes, but your intruders are so very thick it hardly seems to matter. Despite the Truant Officer's warnings, your body *craves* the sensations burning through it.](if: $Rando is 10)[(if: $Blue is true)[Reaching down, your hand glides to the zipper sealing in the churning vibrators buried between your legs. The metallic blue of your catsuit glistens as your hips shift of their own accord, and you begin rubbing your hand there. Writhing in your cage, you moan loudly.](if: $Smoke is true)[Reaching down, your hand glides to the zipper sealing in the churning vibrators buried between your legs. The smokey transparency of your catsuit glistens as your hips shift of their own accord, and you begin rubbing your hand there. Writhing in your cage, you moan loudly.](if: $Brand is true)[Reaching down, your hand glides to the zipper sealing in the churning vibrators buried between your legs. The pure black with bright brands of your catsuit glistens as your hips shift of their own accord, and you begin rubbing your hand there. Writhing in your cage, you moan loudly.](if: $Sec is true)[Reaching down to hike up your pencil skirt somewhat, you begin rubbing against the plugs buried there. Like many of the others around you, you writhe in your cage, moaning loudly.](if: $Slave is true)[Reaching down past your corseted waist, your fingers settle upon the zipper sealing in the churning vibrators. Unable to remove them you instead give in to their desires, and thus your own, by rubbing your hand as best you can against their bases. Like many of the others around you, you writhe in your cage, moaning loudly.](if: $Servant is true)[Reaching down past your petticoats and skirt, your fingers settle upon the white panties there, and the intruders beneath. Unable to remove them you instead give in to their desires, and thus your own, by rubbing your hand as best you can against their bases. Like many of the others around you, you writhe in your cage, moaning loudly.]] This has significantly increased your arousal. (set: $PP to it + 2) [[And it felt so goood...->ArrestRoll]]

(set: $OO to it + 1)(if: $OO is 1)[Do you desire it? That creeping fire between your legs, passion and pleasure rolling towards a very near climax. Or do you fear it? The Truant Officers had warned of consequences, after all. Either way, your control of your own body slips away-- eroded by pure ecstasy. Tensing up momentarily, your gagged moan devolves into a whine as your first orgasm overtakes you. In that moment your concerns drift away, as do such petty things as dignity, or self-respect. You're left only with your own aching cunt and the dildo installed within it, the vibrator without mercy as it pushes your climax-- further and further. When it finally ends you're left collapsed in your small cage, the sweet aferglow fading quickly as you come to terms with reality. The plugs are not stopping, and you have no idea when this ordeal will end. And thus your arousal begins again...](if: $OO is 2)[Your second orgasm comes in much the same manner as the first, overtaking you despite your desires-- or perhaps because of them. Either way it begins with your body tensing, back arching, teeth biting down on the orange ball of the gag between them. Then the pleasure, so much pleasure. Enough to justify what the Truant Officers are likely to do you? You cannot be sure, but it feels *so* good. And already the arousal begins to build again...](if: $OO is 3)[Squirming in your cage, you work your way through a third orgasm. This one comes up on you a bit slower, reflecting the growing ache between your legs, the muscles of your abdomen and womanhood growing weary. Yet the pleasure redeems, overpowering such concerns, wrapping you ever so briefly in its sweet embrace.](if: $OO is 4)[Again you orgasm, a laminate slut too weak to resist the allure. Drool runs down your chin as you bask momentarily in the afterglow, having now thoroughly joined your fellow truants in degeneracy.](if: $OO is 5)[For the fifth time you cum like a wet whore, moaning lewdly as you thrust your chest upward, perhaps dreaming of firm hands to seize your breasts-- play with them-- dominate you even further.](if: $OO is 6)["MMMMmmmmMMmmmghh..." The sound escapes your gagged lips as you climax for the sixth time, lost to any sense of decency. Despite the ache of your tortured cunt it just feels so *good*, you can't help yourself...](if: $OO is 7)["MMmmmgh..." the sound is quieter now, still loaded with bliss, but your body is weakening. So much pleasure... seven orgasms worth, but by now sweat runs between your laminate and skin, and you're perpetually panting. Your cunt burns, your every muscle aches... and yet... you want more, don't you?](if: $OO is > 7)[Another orgasm. You've lost track of how many. In fact, you've lost track of many things: a sense of restraint, decency, dignity. Moaning constantly now, eyes glazed over, you *welcome* the continued purr between your legs. You're being ravished by vibrating cocks you cannot remove, and in that moment you realize just how much you *love* it.] (set: $PP to 0) (if: $OO is 1 or 2)[[[Naughty girl.->ArrestRoll]]](if: $OO is 3 or 4 or 5)[[[Slut.->ArrestRoll]]](if: $OO is 6 or 7)[[[Complete slut.->ArrestRoll]]](if: $OO is > 7)[[[You'll make a good cocksleeve.->ArrestRoll]]]

(set: $BRVIP to true)(set: $Sec to true) GO [[VIPArrest11]]

(set: $PP to it + 1)Having made the decision to restrain your own hands, the options available for your own self-pleasure have diminished considerably. Nevertheless you try your best to further the arousal building within you. (set: $Rando to (random: 1,10))(if: $Rando is 1)[Frustrated, you try to pull your hands back into your cage-- but the steel chain linking them runs up against one of the bars, preventing that. With a growl into your gag you turn to thrashing, desperately seeking the pleasure you have denied yourself-- and while the effort leaves you exhausted, you do feel it working a bit between your legs.](if: $Rando is 2)[Shimmying your hips back and forth, you do your best to shift the plugs locked inside you. A breakthrough comes when you press your rear hard into the bottom of the cell, the effort driving your anal dildo in even further-- and earning from your gagged mouth a wet moan.](if: $Rando is 3)[Instead of altogether struggling, you instead remain still, *reveling* in your bondage. Gagged and restrained, locked into a cage, vibrators working their magic within both your holes-- the mere idea sends a flutter through your heart, warrented or not.](if: $Rando is 4)[Arching your back as best you can, you attempt to press your cunt against the uppermost bars of your cage-- and thus drive the dildo there in even deeper. You manage, to an extent, but its a hard position to hold and ultimately you must pull back with a frustrated moan.](if: $Rando is 5)[With your hands restrained and incapable, you resort to merely thrusting your hips forward and back, seeking out the forbidden pleasure of your plugs. It works to a degree, stoking that fire within you, but its not an easily sustainable effort.](if: $Rando is 6)[Pulling hard against your cuffs, you struggle to touch yourself, despite the Truant Officer's warnings. It's a losing effort of course, your own self bondage ensuring that, but your struggling does manage to further the sensation of your laminate oufit gliding across your skin-- and that at least is somewhat pleasurable.](if: $Rando is 7)[Desperate for pleasure, you close your legs as best you can, trying to rub your thighs together. You manage to a degree, the cramped nature of your cage for once assisting in the effort, but your own physiology limits your efforts-- the neat gap between your thighs just beneath your cunt, demonstrative of your fitness, now frustrates you.](if: $Rando is 8)[Writhing in your bondage and frustration, you shift your shoulders. The tight laminate across your chest mostly holds your breasts firmly, but the sheer wantonness of the effort does further your efforts slightly.](if: $Rando is 9)[Frantically you pull against your cuffs, desiring nothing more then to reach down and touch your own womanhood. Failing that, your own self-bondage proving its worth, you instead work to rub your thighs together. Full and well rounded, the effort nevertheless proves to be a struggle, the way your legs are folded up severely limiting a dexterity you otherwise take considerable pride in.](if: $Rando is 10)[(if: $Blue is true)[With your hands restrained above your head, you attempt to rub your laminated thighs together. The blue material's glossy nature largely stymies your efforts, however, producing little of the friction that would have shifted your plugs and fed the craving of your cunt.](if: $Smoke is true)[With your hands restrained above your head, you attempt to rub your laminated thighs together. The smokey material's glossy nature largely stymies your efforts, however, producing little of the friction that would have shifted your plugs and fed the craving of your cunt.](if: $Brand is true)[With your hands restrained above your head, you attempt to rub your laminated thighs together. The black material's glossy nature largely stymies your efforts, however, producing little of the friction that would have shifted your plugs and fed the craving of your cunt.](if: $Sec is true)[With your hands restrained above your head, you attempt to rub your laminated thighs together. The red material's glossy nature largely stymies your efforts, however, producing little of the friction that would have shifted your plugs and fed the craving of your cunt.](if: $Slave is true)[With your hands restrained above your head, you attempt to rub your laminated thighs together. The black material's glossy nature largely stymies your efforts, however, producing little of the friction that would have shifted your plugs and fed the craving of your cunt.](if: $Servant is true)[With your hands restrained above your head, your're made intimately aware of just how helpless you are. The skirt of your servant's uniform provides absolutely zero protection, and with every shift of your legs you feel your garters pulling tight-- enciting the passion between your legs.]] This has increased your arousal, but not as much as it would have had your hands not been bound. [["Mmmmph..."->ArrestRoll]]

With shaking hands, you reach up above your head, to the cuffs left hanging on the edge of your cage. The Truant Officer had warned that making use of them would be an acknowledgement of your own lack of self-control, and that was ignoring the simple shame of subjecting yourself to more bondage, but you do not feel like you have a choice. Locking yourself into them would prevent your hands betraying you at the very least, and that would certainly keep your orgasms at bay-- for awhile. Sliding one wrist into the opening maw of the cuffs requires positioning them outside the bars, the chain between each cuff in turn ensuring you could not pull them back in once secured. Featuring auto-locks actually snapping them into place is simple enough, and in short order you're sealed in. Testing the results you try to pull your hands back into the cage, only for the chain to prevent that- as expected. For better or worse, you've joined the majority of your fellow truants in such restraints. As a wave of relief washes over you, you realize this has probably quelled your building desire a bit. (set: $Cuffed to true)(set: $PP to it - 4) [[They rattle quietly, your hands now stuck above your head...->ArrestRoll]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/MEKIk40.png" width="30%" height="30%"> (set: $Strikefix to true)The Truant Officers have withdrawn, leaving you and your similarly caged compatriots without supervision-- but you are not left alone. The crowd of gawkers and unlookers remain, most of them maintaining a respectful distance. All except one. Her mixing of offworlder-like textiles with laminate suggest a tourist or something close to it, as does her curiosity. Toreans knew not to draw too closely to a Ministry operation, but as you watch she breaks from the crowd, edging towards the set of cages. Towards *your* cage. With a degree of trepidation, as if you were a wild animal, she reaches for the space between your thighs. [[Resist her attention.->Event1Resist]] [[Spread your legs further.->Event1Sub]]

(set: $Strikefix to true)From your caged vantage you watch as four Truant Officers emerge from Club Lush, led by Nikaido. They're clearly preparing to leave, checking their gear and moving to board the electric sledge alongside the cages. Nikaido herself however draws closer, pulling her forth her glass device. Small red letters run across the screen as she waves it near you. (if: $OO is 0)["I see you haven't orgasmed yet," she notes, your own dildos apparently reporting such things freely. "Honestly? I'm a bit surprised. Most girls just can't help themselves once their caged. Let's see how you hold out though, hmm?"](if: $OO is > 0)["How... as expected. I see you've orgasmed." Apparently your own dildos reported such things freely. "Cumming against regulations in a Ministry cage? That's going on your public file, but most freewombs are just sluts anyway. It's why we don't expect much of your kind."] The sledge's engine flicks on, although you can only really tell in the reflection of its tale lights on Nikaido's thigh. "We're moving on now, but you're going to be sitting tight for a while longer, truant. (if: $OO is 0)[But here, let's at least *try* to get you focusing on thos cocks."](else:)["And because you've been such a slut thus far, lets give you a little reward that I just know you'll like."] You may have thought it impossible, but for a brief moment your intruders run all the more aggressively(if: $Servant is true)[ while your clit piercing sends a concentrated burst of pleasure straight down your nerves.(set: $PP to it + 1)]. Your arousal has risen. [[Nikaido mounts up, you're on the move...->ArrestRoll]]

(set: $Strikefix to true)Your slow ride through Grand Aekora, a procession of growing agony and ecstasy, is suddenly altered when the electric sledge goes over some manner of obstruction. The cages shift a bit, but the greater concern is the way you and every other detainee come down hard on your rear plugs. Almost in unison you cry out, earning a round of laughter from the Officers near the front. (set: $PP to it + 1) "I swear they don't fix that bump just to teast Truants," one of them notes. (if: $Slave is true)[Your arousal spikes harder then it normally would of, due to your slave suit. Being freed from your mask helps matters, but you're already so used to-- and frustrated by-- the plugs. Shifting them has a far greater result.(set: $PP to it + 1)](else-if: $Servant is true)[Your arousal spikes harder then it normally would of, due to your clit piercing. Unlike the plugs which drone mercilessly, the piercing only fires up rarely, but it just so happens to have coincided with the bump. It felt... *so good.*(set: $PP to it + 1)](else:)[Your arousal spikes a bit from the experience, your rear plug having been driven even further up your rear. And yet... it feels so good.] (if: $BRVIP is true)[Akrai in the cage to your side seems to be feeling it as well, her frustration leading her to finally reach up-- and secure her own wrists with the cuffs hanging from her cage.](else:)[The woman in the cage beside you seems to be feeling it as well, her frustration leading her to finally reach up-- and secure her own wrists with the cuffs hanging from her cage.] [["Mmmgh..."->ArrestRoll]]

(set: $Strikefix to true)Passing through opened doors, the sledge, its Officer drivers, and the truants locked into the cages in the back all pass from the covered walkways of downtown Grand Aekora into the night. The crowds diminish immediately, curfew undoubtedly playing a major part in that equation. Looking up through the barred top of your cage, you're greeted to a view of the Andromeda galaxy spread before you-- millions of stars, thousands of worlds... and you're down here, wrapped in glossy laminate, locked inside a cage. Just *where* you are going isn't clear, but you can hear Officer Nikaido discussing it with one of her subordinates. "Another team picked up the runner's scent," she can be heard explaining. "We will park for a little while, see if we can smoke her out. We're *just* at quota now, so I'd love an extra one for that empty cage. Then we can play with that Offworlder." (set: $PP to it + 1) Could she mean you? The idea is enough in increase your arousal a bit(if: $Servant is true)[, your clit piercing activating for a bit to further the effect(set: $PP to it + 1)](if: $Slave is true)[, your time in the slave suit thus far furthering the effect(set: $PP to it + 1)]. [["Mmmmgh...->ArrestRoll]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/MEKIk40.png" width="30%" height="30%"> (set: $Strikefix to true)Emerging from the darkness, a pair of officers haul a familiar woman towards the waiting sledge and its cages-- the one who touched you back at the Club. Putting two-and-two together, you conclude this must have been the "runner" they mentioned having been spotted in the area. Whatever the case, she's not given a chance to explain herself-- despite rather frantic attempts. Instead of hearing her out however, Nikaido directs her fellow Officers to prep her for a cage. Gag, plugs, being forced into the small barred box directly beside you-- its a familiar fate, one you cannot help but feel sympathy for. She looked like a tourist, did she really have an idea of the fate she had just been subjected to? You certainly do by now, a thought that fires your arousal despite it all. (set: $PP to it + 1)(if: $Slave is true or $Servant is true)[(set: $PP to it + 1)] [[Welcome to a hell of pleasure, girl.->ArrestRoll]]

(set: $Strikefix to true)For the second time the Officers appear to be preparing to leave, and again Nikaido appears amongst the cages-- although this time she stands boldy before them all, speaking to you all. "Listen here, truants! Seeing as we've only collected a few recidivists tonight, I imagine you're wondering what is going to happen to you? Well-- sometime tomorrow you will moved to the Ministry of Truant's holding pens, in preparation for your trial. Before we get to *that* however, here in Aekora we like to demonstrate just what happens to whores like yourselves who break our laws! So-- we're headed to a public corrective installation, where you will serve as a lesson to your fellow freewombs or slaves, for a length of time accordant with your alleged crimes. And believe me, by the time your service is up you will be begging for prison-- which will be just fine, because this experience does not count as time served, but is merely considered a public service, given the time you have demanded of us Ministry Officers! Is that understood?" Looking through the cages with a wicked grin on her lips, Nikaido holds up her *glass* device. "I said: *is that understood?*" (set: $PP to it + 1) Pressing the button ignites a particularly strong reaction from your plugs, a reaction apparently shared by the others as they squirm and moan. You add to that myriad collection of tortured cries, (if: $Servant is true)[the sensation furthered by your clit piercing, (set: $PP to it + 1)](if: $Slave is true)[the sensation furthered by your slave suit, (set: $PP to it + 1)]a response that seems to please the Officer. "That's what I thought." Striding back towards the front, the vehicle soon begins to move again. [["Mmmmmgh..."->ArrestRoll]]

(set: $Strikefix to true)For a moment you must think you're dreaming, or hallucinating in a fugue state of tortured pleasure-- as before you rises a large building, the glowing neon sign identifying it as "Direct Shuttle to the Way Up." Salvation! So close-- and yet so very far. While the sledge does stop you're still quite trapped, and Nikaido's words still ring in your head. *Public corrective installation.* A very Torean sounding fate, and one that would perhaps make sense so near the escape route of the Space Elevator. Where better to make such a display? (set: $PP to it + 1) For now however the Officers attending you and your fellow truants merely begin to disembark, one of them going to a vending machine near the building's doors. Another actually enters, propping the door open to reveal the bright light and activity within-- despite curfew, it seems to be a bustling travel hub. [[You, meanwhile, languish in your cage.->ArrestRoll]]

(set: $Strikefix to true)With the snap of heeled boots upon pavement, the Truant Officers come for the first cage-- on the side furthest from you. It takes all four of them to lift it down, the truant within pressing against the bars, as they haul her inside. Just what happens then is lost to you, your cage not providing a view of the building's interior, but you cannot imagine it is good. (set: $PP to it + 1) Nevertheless the idea excites you a bit(if: $Servant is true)[, which your clit piercing pushes even further(set: $PP to it + 1)](if: $Slave is true)[, which your slave suit pushes even further(set: $PP to it + 1)]. [[Time is running out...->ArrestRoll]]

(set: $Strikefix to true)The Officers are taking their time, but they're making steady progress through the truants they collected. Cages go in, and they do not come back out. It's a fate eventually shared by the cages to your left and right. (if: $BRVIP is true)[Akrai](else:)[The woman in red] is first, her eyes meeting yours as they slide her cage away-- she had made use of the cuffs, restraining herself, but a bit of fire still burns in her eyes. She's not the sort to give up resisting. In comparison the other woman, the tourist who had earned the ire of the Truant Officers by approaching your cage at Club Lush, is utterly lost. Here eyes are glazed over, her hips thrusting mindlessly with the purr of her plugs as her cage is taken away. You're all alone now. [[And the stars above twinkle...->ArrestRoll]]

(set: $Strikefix to true)Your lonely cage sits by itself on the back of the Ministry sledge, your fate rapidly approaching. Laying there, staring up at the stars as your vibrators continue to churn, you cannot help but conclude you're dangerously close to being lost in laminate deep in the heart of Torei. (if: $Servant is true)[The collar around your neck and the clit piercing between your legs only furthers that thought. It may still be a technicality, but you *do* have an owner right now. To your shame, or perhaps deep pleasure, that excites you far more then expected.(set: $PP to it + 2)](if: $Slave is true)[The stricture of your slave uniform has put you into a mindset that only furthers that thought. It may still be a technicality, but you *are* under several slave codes already. To your shame, or perhaps deep pleasure, that excites you far more then expected.(set: $PP to it + 2)](if: $OO is 7)[(set: $PP to it + 4) This deep in your bondage, seven orgasms in, you push yourself even harder-- begging for the forbidden eighth.] [[Is there still a chance?->ArrestRoll]]

The waiting proves to be the worst, but eventually the Officers do come for you-- all four, led by Nikaido. Seizing your cage, they carry you towards the opened door of the brightly lit building. You press up against the bars, if only to sate your curiosity, the difference between natural night and artifical day within requiring a few moments for your eyes to adjust... [[You blink rapidly.->ArrestEnd]]

Positioned on your back, legs folded and pressed up against the bars of your cage, resistance is not exactly possible. You do try to bring your knees together, mewling into your gag, but the inquisitive girl hardly seems to notice. Carefully, yet with a certain degree of boldness, she reaches (if: $Sec is true or $Servant is true)[up your skirt](else:)[between your legs], to the nexus within. (if: $Cuffed is false)[You intercede with your hands immediately however, ultimately holding her to little more then a teasing touch.](if: $Cuffed is true)[With your arms locked into the cage's handcuffs you are unable to stop her, and in the end she strokes you several times.] Anything further is broken up by the sharp snap of heels upon the pavement, heralding the rapid approach of a Truant Officer. The girl smiles towards you then backs off, sliding back into the crowd even as the Officer tries to follow. Sometime later the Officer returns, apparently empty-handed. Had she escaped? Either way, your efforts to defend yourself have limited the arousal she induced in you. (set: $PP to it + 1) [[You're not sure...->ArrestRoll]]

Positioned on your back, legs folded and pressed up against the bars of your cage, you submit yourself to her curiosity. Spreading your legs further you offer yourself, earning a smile from the girl as your eyes meet. Carefully, yet with a certain degree of boldness, she reaches (if: $Sec is true or $Servant is true)[up your skirt](else:)[between your legs], to the nexus within. (if: $Cuffed is false)[Meanwhile your hands shift to your hips, fighting the urge to intervene.](if: $Cuffed is true)[Meanwhile your cuffed hands remain locked above your head, incapable of either adding to or preventing her curioisty.] In the end she rubs you gently, feeling the thick base of your front insert, vibrating with such fury. Anything further is broken up by the sharp snap of heels upon the pavement, heralding the rapid approach of a Truant Officer. The girl smiles towards you then backs off, sliding back into the crowd even as the Officer tries to follow. Sometime later the Officer returns, apparently empty-handed. Had she escaped? Either way, your efforts to display yourself have heightened your arousal. (set: $PP to it + 2) [[You're not sure...->ArrestRoll]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/C6dzb6k.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> Shuttles load up on the far end of the large building, but your eyes are drawn far more immediately to the rows of bound women lining each side of the entrance walkway. Each are cloaked in uniform black laminate, from bondage hood covered head to stiletto heeled toe, their bodies harnessed to cruel looking restraint frames. Armbinders draw their limbs backward while a chain ran from collar to floor force their head down, requiring of them a torturous strappado position that must be agony to hold for any true length of time. Many are moaning or screaming loudly, but ther heavy duty gags prevent all but muffled mewls-- and above it all you hear the continued insidious roar of their plugs. Clearly those had not bee removed. You pass them by, each in turn, until coming to a final frame-- unoccupied, but pregnant with expectation. There your plugs are finally calmed, at least for the moment, and Nikaido opens up your cage. Reaching in, she undoes your gag(if: $Cuffed is true)[ but makes no effort to remove the cuffs you subjected yourself to]. "We need to talk about a very important choice you have before you." [[You work your jaw slowly, sore from the ball gag.->ArrestEndCount]]

(if: $BRVIP is true)[(set: $TruantCount to it + 1)](if: $BarSaw is true)[(set: $TruantCount to it + 1)](if: $TourAng is true)[(set: $TruantCount to it + 1)](if: $Bouncered is true)[(set: $TruantCount to it + 1)](if: $SargonNo is true)[(set: $TruantCount to it + 1)](if: $SargonBother is true)[(set: $TruantCount to it + 1)](if: $PetrosTry is true and $PetrosFail is true)[(set: $TruantCount to it + 1)]Leaning against the bondage frame, Nikaido crosses her arms as the other Officers linger nearby. "We've already discussed just why you were arrested at Club Lush for this evening. (if: $TruantCount is 0)[You avoided any particular charges from your immediate actions within the club, sure.](else:)[You are currently looking at (print: $TruantCount) infractions from that, as we've gone over earlier.] (if: $debt is < 0)[(set: $TruantCount to it + 1)For running a negative credit balance you've earned a debtor's infraction.] (if: $EscapePath is 1)[Luckily you came with us willingly, and avoided an infraction for that.](if: $EscapePath is 2)[Then you attempted to flee from an Officer, namely me-- that's another two infractions.(set: $TruantCount to it + 2)](if: $EscapePath is 3)[Then there was that stunt you pulled at the Club, with the fire alarm. Attempting to flee from an Officer *and* public endangerment, which are two infractions each.(set: $TruantCount to it + 4)] And finally we have your time spent in that cage. (if: $OO is 0)[To my great surprise, you somehow managed to maintain your dignity throughout. Honestly? I'm impressed, if that means anything at this point. The average girl cums her foolish brains out, that particular setup truly reveals them to be the whores they are, deep down.](if: $OO is 1)[(set: $TruantCount to it + 1)Your plugs reported a single orgasm, which was expressly forbidden of you. Thus another infraction.](if: $OO is 2)[(set: $TruantCount to it + 2)Your plugs reported two orgasms, the statistical average for the time you spent inside that cage. That's another two infractions, of course.](if: $OO is 3)[(set: $TruantCount to it + 3)Your plugs reported three orgasms, above the average for the time you spent in that cage, each of which were expressly forbidden to you. Such a demonstration of your inherent depravity has earned you three additional infractions.](if: $OO is 4)[(set: $TruantCount to it + 4)Your plugs reported four orgasms, above the average for the time you spent in that cage, each of which were expressly forbidden to you. Such a demonstration of your inherent depravity has earned you four additional infractions.](if: $OO is 5)[(set: $TruantCount to it + 5)Your plugs reported five orgasms, above the average for the time you spent in that cage, each of which were expressly forbidden to you. Such a demonstration of your inherent depravity has earned you five additional infractions.](if: $OO is 6)[(set: $TruantCount to it + 6)Your plugs reported six orgasms, far above the average for the time you spent in that cage, each of which were expressly forbidden to you. Were you even trying to resist, you wet little slut? It certainly doesn't seem like it. That earned you another six infractions.](if: $OO is 7)[(set: $TruantCount to it + 7)Your plugs reported seven orgasms, far above the average for the time you spent in that cage, each of which were expressly forbidden to you. Were you even trying to resist, you wet little slut? It certainly doesn't seem like it. That earned you another seven infractions.](if: $OO is > 7)[(set: $TruantCount to it + 8)Your plugs reported (print: $OO) orgasms, far and away above the average for the time you spent in that cage, each of which were expressly forbidden to you. Your complete and utter depravity and submissiveness is... truly extraordinary. That earned you the maximum number of infractions I can give for that, eight.] (if: $Cuffed is true)[(set: $TruantCount to it + 1)And lastly you just couldn't control yourself, could you? Or perhaps you simply sought out the bondage? Either way, you've clearly utilized your cage's cuffs. That's a final infraction."](if: $Cuffed is false)[And lastly... you avoided utilizing the cuffs on your cage, a rare enough thing for most girls. At least you avoided that infraction, hmm?"] "That's a total of (print: $TruantCount) infractions..." [["Is that... bad?"->ArrestEndCount2]]

"(if: $TruantCount is < 5)[All things considered... its not terrible, actually.](if: $TruantCount is 5 or 6 or 7 or 8 or 9)[All things considered... you're certainly not in a good situation.](if: $TruantCount is > 9)[All things considered... you're in quite a lot of trouble.] At the very least you're looking at (print: $TruantCount) hours on one of our punishment frames," she gestures towards the frame she was leaning against and to which each of the other truants were locked to, "followed by a few days detainment, before your trial and sentencing. And then? That's up to a judge. Probably some time in the Machinery of Corrections, (if: $Servant is true)[then almost certainly returned to your Master, given you do have that collar.](else:)[then possibly the mandatory revocation of your freewomb status, followed by a period of training or modification in preparation for the auction block.]" She speaks of your fate with such serenity you imagine you're not the first, or anywhere near it, to be told such by Nikaido. That you're in good company hardly helps with the prospect of such treatment, torture, and enslavement so clearly on the horizon however, the shock on your face clearly evident as the Officer clears her throat. Drawing your attention, she leans down, looming over you. "But I have an offer to make of you..." [["What sort of offer...?"->ArrestEndCount3]]

"Temporary parole. We pulled in enough truants tonight to hit our quota, thus I'm giving you the chance to *earn* a reprieve from at least some of what is coming to you." (if: $Cuffed is true)[Nikaido reaches down, unlocking your wrist cuffs, the last thing holding you to opened cage as she stands back up.](if: $Cuffed is false)[Nikaido stands back up to her full height, regarding you for a second before she continues.] "Find something of interest to us in the few hours we give you, and depending on how good it is I will put in to have your infraction count reduced, and thus your eventual sentence. And if you do *very* well? Perhaps we could make use of you further. The Ministry of Truants largely conscripts our Officers from the inmate population, and while the training and life are not easy... I can personally attest to how quickly your freedom can be earned, if you do the work well." *There is, of course, a third possibility. Complete and total escape from Torei. You're not sure how, but given a few borrowed hours of freedom perhaps you could still save yourself... you're already so close to the Way Up, after all.* "So, what will it be?" Officer Nikaido asks, crossing her arms beneath her chest. "Stay under arrest and go onto the punishment frame, or a few hours parole?" [["I'm not helping enslave anyone else. I don't care what you do to me."->PrisonerEnd]] [["I want the parole, I'll try to reduce my sentence."->ArrestEnd4]] [["I want the parole, I'm interested in becoming a Truant Officer."->ArrestEnd4]]

Nikaido's seemingly perpetual frown deepens. Reaching up, she pulls the brim of her cap just a little bit lower as her free hand gestures to the truants suffering nearby. "You're *sure* about that?" [["Actually... I'll take the parole."->ArrestEnd4]] [["I'm... sure."->PrisonerEnd2]]

"Good choice," Officer Nikaido replies, clasping her hands together. "As I said-- I don't care where you go, or what you do, just bring me some actionable information and I will see your sentence reduced. Demonstrate you can do more then that, bring me a truant for example, and I'll even offer you conscription into the Ministry. You'll have until the end of my shift-- midnight." That doesn't give you much time, but you hardly expect pity from the Officer at this point. Stepping forward she does offer a hand to help you from the cage however, although when you go to take it she seizes your wrist instead. "There is one more thing, before you go. Know that if you fail me, or if you try to take this opportunity to run, I *will* find you. And to make sure you don't get into any trouble..." She snaps her free hand, a prompt that brings one of her subordinate Officer over-- a fearsome looking device tipped with a needle being given over. [["What's that for...?"->ArrestEnd5]] [[Uh oh...->ArrestEnd5]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/C6dzb6k.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> "Stupid girl," the Officer spits, before gesturing sharply over her own shoulder as she steps away. "Rig her up with the others then, if she wants it so badly." And they do. Cutting away your previous garments, they replace them with stark black laminate, an exact match for the tortured rows of other women all around you. Catsuit and corset, heels and gloves, cuffs and armbinder. They're added to your body one by one, stripping you of freedoms as simple as the right to use your own hands-- until the final piece is held before you. The mask. Rendered in heavy, thick laminate, you cannot help but think of a similar mask, offered so recently by the Daemon. But this one you cannot turn down. Once masked, the only thing left is to rig you to the punishment frame. Without eyes to see or a mouth to scream, you're forced into a strict position bent over, your restrained arms held up and above you in a strappado position that quickly proves uncomfortable. There you are rigged, locked to the frame, but not yet done-- the final instrument of your punishment comes in the form of your dildos, still installed, roaring to life. "How long for this one?" You can just barely hear the Officer nearest you ask of Nikaido. The response is immediate. "(if: $TruantCount is < 5)[The whore didn't rack up too many infractions. Give her eight hours, until morning.](if: $TruantCount is 5 or 6 or 7 or 8 or 9)[The whore racked up a considerable number of infractions. Give her sixteen hours. Maybe by then she will be begging for the fucking of her wet cunt to stop.](if: $TruantCount is > 9)[The whore racked up so many infractions... give her twenty four hours, and set her for orgasm denial. I want her begging to cum by the time we release her.]" You join the quiet chorus of moans, another warning for travelers to beware the dangers of Torean society. You're truly lost to the laminate now. [["Mmmmmmmmmmgh..."->PrisonerEnd3]]

"Hold her still." Your concerns are ignored as the other two Truant Officers step forward, roughly seizing your arms. They must be quite practiced in this entire thing as Nikaido approaches boldly, placing her palm up on your head to steady it, then lining up the device she holds. It happens so quickly-- a quick click, the needle moves, and when she steps back? A ring of metal remains, ran through your septum. The pain comes soon after, blunted somewhat by a coating upon the ring presumably intended to quicken healing. "If you do not come back here by midnight, we will use that to come find you. Do *not* make me do that. And of course it will trigger any security checkpoints you attempt to pass through, so don't wander *too* far. Parolees who are detained again rarely enjoy the consequences." (if: $Servant is true)[(set: $Status to 3)](elseif: $Slave is true)[(set: $Status to 2)](else:)[(set: $Status to 1)] Her hands had returned to her waist, one hand gently tapping the stun baton hanging there. "Any questions?" [["Where am I supposed to find... information you would like?"->ArrWhere]] [["You will be here, when I return?"->ArrWhen]] [["No, I understand what you want of me."->ArrestEnd6]]

"Hells if I know," Nikaido shrugs. "Usually the ones we try this with don't find much of anything. But sometimes they *do*, and desperation is quite the motivator. Ain't it? Sometimes just shaking the tree is enough." [["You will be here, when I return?"->ArrWhen]] [["No, I understand what you want of me."->ArrestEnd6]]

"Yep. (if: $TruantQuestEnd is false)[Since you failed to find that runaway slave for me, I'm stuck on midnight patrols for the foreseeable future.](else-if: $TruantStat is 1)[Since you found that runaway, I've got this easy patrol-- and my lesser Officers will be handling any actual footwork.](else-if: $TruantStat is 2)[Since you found that runaway and that whore of a trafficker, I've got this easy patrol-- and my lesser Officers will be handling any actual footwork.](else:)[Since you failed to find that runaway slave for me, I'm stuck on midnight patrols for the foreseeable future.] I'll be right here, with these sweet things." She runs her hand up the thigh of the nearest publicly displayed truant, a muffled moan audible from within the layers of black laminate. "But you can contact me from any comm unit, just ask the operator-slave for Officer Nikaido." [["Where am I supposed to find... information you would like?"->ArrWhere]] [["No, I understand what you want of me."->ArrestEnd6]]

"Good. (if: $Slave is true)[Then get your mask back on." With a bit of distaste you do as she commands, sliding the breath regulator back onto your head, then tightening the straps. As before it clicks closed when the built-in locks engage. "]Now get out of my sight." She makes no mention of removing the plugs you had been tortured with, and you're unwilling to push the subject further. With a sigh you step back, your liberty restored-- by the thinnest of margins, on borrowed time. Every step shifts the ring of your freshly pierced septum, as if to remind you of that fact. (set: $Wanted to 2) *Will you try to merely reduce your eventual sentence? Will you try to impress Nikaido, and earn an invitation into the Ministry? Or will you risk it all on trying to flee once more?* For now you move towards the far end of the terminal, boarding one of the shuttles that ran towards the Way Up. In the shadow of Torei's singular space elevator your chances would be best, whatever it is you choose to do. [[The night grows late...->CustomsArrive]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/hbs73qN.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> (set: $Status to 5) "Prisoner #38511b, this court finds you *guilty.*" The judge reigning over your case delivers the judgement to the quiet disinterest of the court, your fate having been decided upon in the short space of a few hours. Despite the brevity you've been a prisoner of the Ministry of Truants for several months now, and have grown accustomed to the sense of being little more then a number in the system. Kneeling before the raised dais, your arms are pinned by the bright orange straitjacket that constituted the majority of your Truant's uniform. Beneath it you wore a simple black catsuit, while at your throat you've grown used to the tight cling of your tall, heavy collar. Steel hardpoints, two to each side, are often used to afix the poles or leashes so often used upon Truants. The Judge continues, reading from his docket. (if: $Servant is true)["Regarding the circumstances related to your enslavement by the proprietor of *Club Lush*, this Court finds that contract to be valid, but unorthodox. Thus you will be given a choice: to either accept the terms of your contract with the Club, and thus enter into slavery upon its premises... or to choose the opportunity for retraining and sale. In this secondary circumstance, the ownership rights upon your person would be stripped from you, and you would be given training until such time as you can be auctioned by this Ringdom. You would, however, quite obviously still be a slave, and would be registered as a contract-jumper-- which could influence your opportunities with regards to earning another collar. Still... the choice is yours. Speak it now." [["I choose to accept my collar from Club Lush..."->LushEnd]] [["I choose the opportunity to be auctioned."->AucEndChoice]]](else:)["You are hearby condemned by this court to the full penalties of the slave code, as outlined in Articles eight, thirteen, and forty-four. Your legal rights are hereby striped, and your permanent registration as a slave ordered. For next six months you will be admitted to a slave-training program, which will culminate in your eventual sale at auction." He leans over his dias to meet your gaze. "Do you have any final words for this court, Prisoner #38511b?" [["No, Master."->PrisonerEnd4Nice]] [["I accept my punishment, Master."->PrisonerEnd4Nice]] [["Yeah. Fuck you."->PrisonerEnd4Bad]]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/C6dzb6k.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> Eventually you arrival at a terminal building that promises free shuttles to the Way Up, operating on constant schedule-- this near the beating heart of Torean commerce, such things never slept. And yet, stepping through the vestibule, its here you get a taste of what failure may have meant for you. Truants line the walkway before you, each wearing laminate outfits of obvious severity, the punishment frames they're secured to forcing them into a deeply uncomfortable position. Without eyes to see, due to their blindfolds, nor mouths to screan-- due to their gags-- they are left to merely endure. Signs above each meanwhile explain why they were being subjected to such treatment. Some are common enough crimes, theft for instance, but most seem to have fallen afoul of Torean culture: curfew violations, debtors and the like. Passing by them as quickly as possible, if only to escape their muffled moans-- of ecstasy or agony you cannot rightly tell apart-- you board one of shuttles making for the way up. [[The stars grow ever nearer...->CustomsArrive]]

(set: $Servant to true) [[VIPArrest9]]

The attendant smiles. "The details vary considerably, but given your previous lack of interest in Torean culture... we would make efforts to ensure that you get to experience the joys of your gender." Her wording is vague, and it doesn't improve. "If your debts are high enough, we would also ensure that *others* would enjoy your experience, so to speak. But we can discuss that further, after we address any other questions you might have-- and just how extensive your debt it." [["Okay, let's talk about me-- I can't remember anything!"->Front Q Start]] [["Let's talk about my debt."->Debt Avoid]]

Like a strand of gleaming pearls suspended in the night, the Space Elevator soon stretches before you, disappearing up into the clouds. On approach via the shuttle, you pass beyond Aekora's strict borders-- although your fractured memories allow you to piece back together that this wasn't unusual. Many of the Ringdoms near the elevator but not directly abutting it had treaties to allow direct lines like the one you're riding to the elevator base itself. That would mean passing through an Aekoran customs checkpoint, the last before entering into the legally distinct area maintained by the Space Elevator authority-- where Torean contracts and slavery no longer applied. (if: $Wanted is 0)[Having emerged from Club Lush without Truant Officers seeking to detain you, however, you suspect you will recieve little hassle-- at least on that particular front.](if: $Wanted is 1)[Having emerged from Club Lush with Truant Officers seeking to detain you, however, you have to imagine getting through will not be easy-- and being captured would be a horrific fate indeed.](if: $Wanted is 2)[Having emerged from the Truant Officer's grasp as a registered Truant on parole, however, you have to imagine getting through would be all but impossible-- and being caught in an attempt would induce a fate you cannot even imagine.] (if: $Slave is true)[Your standardized slave suit presents another potential problem, as the application of certain slave codes while wearing it would undoubtedly lead to your arrest if you attempted to simply walk through. You would need to find a way out of the locked gear.](if: $Servant is true)[The collar you wear alongside your serving girl uniform presents another potential problem, as one in your situation would certainly be arrested if approaching customs directly. You would need to find a way out of your locked gear, and a way to clear your status as a slave.] Still-- as the shuttle pulls into port, you need only look up through the glass ceiling above to see your way off Torei so very close. Can you make it off planet? *Do you still want to?* [[You step from the shuttle.->CustomsArrive2]]

The final customs checkpoint looms ahead of you, words painted above the series of exits making that point clear: EXITING SOVEREIGN TOREAN TERRITORY. Between the long lines there, and your position on the far end of the Aekoran conclave, several other things jump out to you however. The first is a rather large gathering near the checkpoint, a woman standing atop a decorative planter allowing her to use the voice-amplifier she's speaking through all the more effectively. Distance prevents you from hearing everything, but you do recognize a familiar phrase-- *Liberty Society.* Advocates for women and the enslaved, as well as less distinctly legal ventures. It takes a moment, but you finally realize why the crowd seemed so strange to you-- after a full day surrounded by a sea of laminate, this close to the space elevator tourists and offworlders seemingly outnumber the native-born Toreans, making offworld textiles more common. Instead of blending in, your (if: $Blue is true)[slick blue catsuit](if: $Smoke is true)[slick transparent catsuit](if: $Brand is true)[slick branded catsuit](if: $Sec is true)[slick secretarial laminate](if: $Slave is true)[fully enclosed catsuit](if: $Servant is true)[glossy servant's attire] now sticks out rather immediately. In fact, already a few of those passing by stare at you. Addressing that could be achieved at the banks of Wardrobe machines you see along the side wall, although obviously that would take a few credits. Still-- to your amazement, you actually see a woman emerge from one wearing a very plain, quite ugly shift-- but it is *not* laminate! Before you get any further in your slow examination of the customs enclave, however, a hand lands upon your shoulder. [[You turn.->CustomsArrive3]]

(if: $CorSec is true)[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/RFnMSJA.jpg" width="35%" height="35%">](if: $CorDD is true)[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/tWL2aFo.jpg" width="35%" height="35%">](if: $CorSlave is true)[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/Q8FIDj1.png" width="35%" height="35%">](if: $CorSec is false and $CorDD is false and $CorSlave is false)[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/4UJTJBh.png" width="35%" height="35%">] Corinth. (if: $CorSec is true)[Still wearing the secretarial laminate you had chosen for her, the blue of the bodice especially gleaming in the bright lights of the customs conclave. She seems to be in a particularly good mood as well, embracing you in a hug, one of her heeled shoes leaving the ground as she squeezes.](if: $CorDD is true)[Still wearing the debutante's outfit you had chosen for her, the black laminate gleaming in the bright lights of the customs conclave. She seems to be in a particularly good mood as well, embracing you in a hug, one of her heeled shoes leaving the ground as she squeezes.](if: $CorSlave is true)[Still locked inside the standardized slave uniform you forced upon her, the bright eyes you remember looking somewhat dulled behind the panels of her mask. Still, her corset and catsuit ensure her body is curvaceous and gleaming, catching the eye despite her obvious discomfort with those that stare your way.](if: $CorSec is false and $CorDD is false and $CorSlave is false)[Still clad in the offworld textiles she had been wearing when you first met. Here, surrounded by so many other fresh arrivals, it blends in far more easily however. She greets you with a smile, crossing her arms as she gives you the first word.] [["Corinth, good to see you again."->CuHello]] [["Corinth, hello."->CuHello]] (if: $CorSec is true or $CorDD is true or $CorSlave is true)[[["Corinth, I must say... laminate suits you."->CuLam]]]

(if: $CorSlave is false)["You made it," she greets brightly. "(if: $Wanted is 0)[And in pretty good time too.](else:)[You're so late, I was afraid you would miss the elevator!]](else:)["You made it," she greets, her voice slightly muffled by her mask. "(if: $Wanted is 0)[And in pretty good time too.](else:)[You're so late, I was afraid you would miss the elevator.]](if: $Servant is false and $CorSlave is false)[ So... how did that thing go, at that Club you mentioned? Did you make your deal? Was all of this worth it?"](if: $Servant is true and $CorSlave is false)[ I have to ask the obvious question: what are you wearing *now*? Is that a slave's collar!?" Quite obviously, she means your baby blue servant's uniform.](if: $CorSlave is true)[ It's... it's good that you're here, though. Can we... talk for a moment? About... my outfit?"] (if: $Servant is false and $CorSlave is false)[[["It didn't go... exactly as I expected."->CuAns]] [["It all fell apart!"->CuAns]]] (if: $CorSlave is true)[[["What's on your mind?->CuSlave]]] (if: $Servant is true)[[[Perform a slight reverence. "It's my uniform now, I suppose."->CuServ1]] [["I got into... a bit of trouble at the Club."->CuServ2]]]

(if: $CorSlave is true)[Her mask prevents you from seeing much of her expression, but you get the sense that she's blushing deeply.](else:)[She blushes deeply, looking away before coughing awkwardly.] (if: $Servant is true and $CorSlave is false)["I... well... you don't know how hard... I mean, what are *you* wearing?!" It seems to be a poorly disguised attempt to change the subject.](elseif: $CorSlave is true)["I... well... it has been so hard that... can we talk for a moment, about... my outfit?"](else:)["So... how did that thing go, at that Club you mentioned? Did you make your deal? Was all of this worth it?"] (if: $Servant is true)[[[Perform a slight reverence. "It's my uniform now, I suppose."->CuServ1]] [["I got into... a bit of trouble at the Club."->CuServ2]]](elseif: $CorSlave is true)[[["What's on your mind?->CuSlave]]](else:)[[["It didn't go... exactly as I expected."->CuAns]] [["It all fell apart!"->CuAns]]]

You explain your encounter in the VIP section of Club Lush. The Daemon, the mere thought of which still haunts your thoughts. Its offer, as infernal as it may have been tempting. A lifetime of pleasure unending, all for the mere price of your total and utter submission. *What would it have felt like, to slide into that isolation laminate? You will likely never know, although you suspect shaking such thoughts may be difficult. Corinth, for her part, actually seems quite intrigued-- even if your conclusion, of any hope of a deal having fallen through, does dampen her spirits somewhat. "Well... I guess there is nothing really holding you here, to Torei, then? I've been here awhile obviously, waiting for you. There is something you should see, they have these automated kiosks to determine your customs status. Probably good to know.(if: $Slave is true and $CorSlave is true)[ We will... both need to use the slave version, though.]" [["Show me."->CuKiosk]]

She takes a deep breath, or as deep as she could manage give her corset and mask. "I had heard what this place was like, of course... Torei. The laminate, the slavery... but to actually experience it, as you've... *forced* me to do..." (if: $Slave is true)[You notice immediately a twitching in her gloved fingers, the way her hand seems to drift towards the meeting of her thighs. It's a feel you know all too well, birthed by a desire your shared plugs induced so easily. "How have you... managed to stand it, wearing... all this?"](else:)[You notice one of her gloved hands twitching a bit, pulling towards the space between her legs. "It's been so hard, the... sensations, the way others... look at me. It feels so... so..."] (if: $Slave is true)[[["By spreading my legs, and doing what my betters tell me to, Corinth. I like it."->CuSlaveLike]] [["By keeping my eyes down, and trying not to focus on what my body is feeling... I won't give up."->CuSlaveNo]] [["By keeping my eyes on getting off this planet, Corinth. I won't give up."->CuSlaveNo]]](else:)[[["...feels so... good?"->CuSlaveGood]] [["...feels so... bad?"->CuSlaveBad]]]

Reaching down, you lift the front hem of your skirt, revealing your gleaming white panties underneath. Torean decorum dictated the way you bow your head to her, completing the curtsy. When your eyes finally lift again you find Corinth staring at you, a bit aghast. [["It's expected of me, Corinth. As a slave."->CuServ3]] [["I got into... a bit of trouble at the Club."->CuServ2]]

You explain your arrival at the Club, and your need to reach the VIP area balcony. That had led you to surreptitiously exploring the backrooms, and eventually your coming upon that wardrobe machine. From it you had emerged a different being altogether, both in dress, and how Toreans saw you. A collared slave. Corinth listens intently, her eyes wide, a hand even coming to her chest out of concern for your predicament. When you finish she sighs, reaching up to her own throat, as if to imagine a collar there. "Well... this makes your getting offworld so much harder.(if: $CorSlave is true)[ And... well, can we talk about *my* situation? My outfit?](else:)[ Was it all worth it, at least? Do you make that deal?]" (if: $CorSlave is true)[[["What's on your mind?->CuSlave]]](else:)[ [["It didn't go... exactly as I expected."->CuAns]] [["It all fell apart!"->CuAns]]]

Still looking uneasy, and even glancing around as if to check if anyone else had witnessed your lewd display, Corinth nevertheless appears ready to give you the chance to explain. "So this all happened at that Club you went to?" [["Yes, I had a wonderful time..."->CuServ2]] [["Yes, I ran into a bit of trouble.."->CuServ2]]

"I *know* you do," she replies, in a surprisingly hushed tone. You get the sense that she's struggling deeply with something, but it takes her a moment to collect herself, to address the issue directly." It's been so hard, the... sensations, the way others... look at me. It feels so... so..." [["...feels so... good?"->CuSlaveGood]] [["...feels so... bad?"->CuSlaveBad]]

"It's not that *easy*," she asserts, in a surprisingly hushed tone. You get the sense that she's struggling deeply with something, but it takes her a moment to collect herself, to address the issue directly. "You know what it is like, how it feels... the... sensations, the way others... look at me. It feels so... so..." [["...feels so... good?"->CuSlaveGood]] [["...feels so... bad?"->CuSlaveBad]]

Corinth looks to you, her masked gaze meeting your own. A moment passes and your friend looks liable to burst, which she does with a sudden reply. "**Yes!**" In a rush she steps forward, wrapping her arms around you, seizing you in a firm embrace. The black laminate of her slave suit presses against your own laminate, glossy materials gliding against each other effortlessly. Her corseted posture is exquisite, (if: $Slave is true or $Brand is true)[matching your own enforced posture,] pressing her chest into you freely. [[Return her hug. "I know, I know, it feels so good.."->CuSlaveUnd]] [[Return her hug. "It is alright, Corinth. I undestand."->CuSlaveUnd]] [["I know it's hard, Corinth, but you need to fight that feeling..."->CuSlaveRej]] [["You're not like them, Corinth, you're not Torean..."->CuSlaveRej]]

Your response seems to shake her, her eyes closing as she finally works up the courage to reply. "No-- just the opposite. I think I *like* it." In a rush she steps forward, wrapping her arms around you, seizing you in a firm embrace. The black laminate of her slave suit presses against your own laminate, glossy materials gliding against each other effortlessly. Her corseted posture is exquisite, (if: $Slave is true or $Brand is true)[matching your own enforced posture,] pressing her chest into you freely. [[Return her hug. "I know, I know, it feels so good.."->CuSlaveUnd]] [[Return her hug. "It is alright, Corinth. I undestand."->CuSlaveUnd]] [["I know it's hard, Corinth, but you need to fight that feeling..."->CuSlaveRej]] [["You're not like them, Corinth, you're not Torean..."->CuSlaveRej]]

"***Yes!***" Hearing you say it seems to lift a tremendous weight off the slave-suited girl as she steps back, gesturing to herself in a very animated style. "(if: $Slave is true)[You know what it is like, you're wearing one too. ](if: $Servant is true)[You must know what it's like, having gotten that collar. ]The way the laminate surrounds me so fully, it's so tight, so glossy. I'm... naked, but not, exposed, but not. The corset, these heels, it all just serves to make me more... a thing of pleasure. I shouldn't like that, but.. but I *do*. Every step I take, the things inside me move, and that feels so good, but even beyond that just the *idea* of being kept like this, of being unable to take it off... it makes me..." [[You sigh. "Just another slavegirl here."->CuSlaveCon]] [[You smile. "Just another slavegirl here!"->CuSlaveCon]]

"I've been *trying*," she says, stepping back, trying to reassert control. Instead she nearly stumbles on her towering stilleto heels, your own hands reaching out to steady her. "(if: $Slave is true)[You know what it is like, you're wearing one too. ](if: $Servant is true)[You must know what it's like, having gotten that collar. ]The way the laminate surrounds me so fully, it's so tight, so glossy. I'm... naked, but not, exposed, but not. The corset, these heels, it all just serves to make me more... a thing of pleasure. I shouldn't like that, but.. but I *do*. Every step I take, the things inside me move, and that feels so good, but even beyond that just the *idea* of being kept like this, of being unable to take it off... it makes me..." [[You sigh. "Just another slavegirl here."->CuSlaveCon]] [[You smile. "Just another slavegirl here!"->CuSlaveCon]]

Despite her confession, that seems a bit too far for Corinth to admit to herself. *Yet.* You sense a smile behind her mask despite it all, but she moves to refocus the conversation. "This whole situation has... consequences for me.(if: $Slave is true)[ For us both, with your suit too.](if: $Servant is true)[ For us both, with that collar around your throat.] But I can show you that in a moment, in the meantime you need tell me if it all worked out. At the Club, I mean. Did you make that deal?" [["It didn't go... exactly as I expected."->CuAns]] [["It all fell apart!"->CuAns]]

Turning on her heel, Corinth leads you deeper into the customs terminal. The protest you had seen earlier seems to be slowing down, if only because several Truant Officers have intervened, breaking up the gathering with what appears to be a firm application of shock batons. Their leader, the woman who had been speaking, seems to be speaking with one of the Officers. Another interesting sight is passed on your left, a small glassed room set into one of the alcove-like protrusions from the main hall, the sign above vague but intriguing: *Celeste Academy*. "Over here," Corinth intervenes, grabbing your wrist to pull you off the main path forward. She's heading towards two banks of large glass screens. The first bank is attracting all sorts of travelers, while at the second only those clad in laminate and bearing collars-- or the standardized slave suits-- seem to gather. (if: $Slave is true or $CorSlave is true or $Servant is true)[Your friend leads you to the latter.](else:)[Your friend leads you to the former.] [[You approach.->CuKiosk2]]

(if: $Slave is true or $CorSlave is true or $Servant is true)[Where the other sets of machines are attended by standing travelers in all sorts of offworld textiles, and the occasional bit of laminate, the kiosk you approach is quite different. (if: $Servant or $Slave is true and $CorSlave is true)["The system will lock us out if we don't use these ones," Corinth explains. "For... slaves only."](if: $Servant or $Slave is true and $CorSlave is false)["The system will lock you out if we tried to use the other ones," Corinth explains. "These are registered for slaves as well as freewombs."](if: $Servant or $Slave is false and $CorSlave is true)["The system will lock me out if we tried to use the other ones, Corinth explains. These are registered for slaves as well as free wombs."]](else:)[Where only slaves utilize the other bank of machines, you're surrounded by travelers in all sorts of offworld textiles as you and Corinth approach the far busier set of kiosks. A few wear laminate, but you certainly draw a feel stares, being so fully clad in the material. Truly Torei's influence was lessened here, in the shadow of the Way Up.] Stepping up before the kiosk, the large touchscreen wakens with a bright flash and instructions emitted through its speakers. "Welcome to the Aekoran Customs Terminal, and this automated passcard checking station. Please present your IDs and prepare for ocular scan.(if: $Slave is true or $CorSlave is true or $Servant is true)[ Slaves should take a submissive posture now." (if: $Servant or $Slave is true and $CorSlave is true)["It means us,"](if: $Servant or $Slave is true and $CorSlave is false)["It means you,"](if: $Servant and $Slave is false and $CorSlave is true)["It means me,"] your friend explains. Kneeling, legs spread, and then you see those chains at the side? Leashes, need to be attached."] (if: $Servant or $Slave is true and $CorSlave is true)[[[You follow the instructions.->CuKSlave]]](else:)[[[You follow the instructions.->CuKSlave]]]

(if: $Servant or $Slave is true)[Moving to your knees in full view of the passing terminal, (if: $CorSlave is true)[Corinth joins you in submission,] with the demanded leashes being hooked into afterward. Only then does the Kiosk activate, working through the ocular and ID card scans.] "Do you want your status first, or mine?" Corinth asks, (if: $CorSlave is true)[kneeling submissively, her laminate encapsulated breasts pressed out sharply by corset *and* a distinct effort of her own.](elseif: $CorSlave is false)[standing (if: $Slave is true or $Servant is true)[above your kneeling position] with a finger outstretched towards the touchpad.](else:)[looking to you, (if: $Cor Sec is true or $CorDD is true)[resplendent in her glossy laminate](else:)[so very comfortable in her offworld linens].] [["Mine, I suppose."->CuKYou]] [["Let's start with you."->CuKCorinth]]

At Corinth's command, the kiosk begins spitting out a list of information about yourself. Registered Status: (if: $Status is 1)[(colour: #e61919)[FREEWOMB]](if: $Status is 2)[(colour: #e5e619)[SLAVE CODE]](if: $Status is 3)[(colour: #888)[SLAVE]] Current Credits: (print: $debt) Truancy Status: (if: $Wanted is 0)[Good Standing](if: $Wanted is 1)[Please report for questioning.](if: $Wanted is 2)[Parolee] Details: (if: $Servant is true)[*Warning!--* As a registered slave, you are barred from traveling beyond Aekoran borders without the express consent of your owner. Most travel services are prohibited to you.](if: $Slave is true)[*Warning!--* As a freewomb operating under several slave codes, you are barred from traveling beyond Aekoran borders. Most travel services are prohibited to you.](if: $debt is < 0)[ *Warning!--* Your current credit balance is insufficent to cover existant charges associated with your account. Debtors are barred from traveling beyond Aekoran borders. Most travel services are prohibited to you.](if: $Wanted is 1)[ *Warning!--* The Ministry of Truants has issued a warrant for your detainment. You have been barred from traveling beyond Aekoran borders. Most travel services are prohibited to you.](if: $Wanted is 2)[ *Warning!--* The Ministry of Truants have registered you as a temporary parolee, subject to slavery codes regarding travel and freedom of movement. You are barred from traveling beyond Aekoran borders. Most travel services are prohibited to you.](if: $Servant is false and $Slave is false)[(if: $Wanted is 0)[(if: $debt is > -1)[Your records appear to be in good order, and you are free to pass through the customs checkpoint at your leisure.]]] "Well," Corinth breathes, "let me show you mine. Then we can discuss it." [["Sure."->CuKYou2]]

At Corinth's command, the kiosk begins spitting out a list of information about her. Registered Status: (if: $CorSlave is true)[(colour: #e5e619)[SLAVE CODE]](else:)[(colour: #e61919)[FREEWOMB]] Current Credits: 50 Truancy Status: Good Standing. Details: (if: $CorSlave is true)[As a freewomb operating under several slave codes, you are barred from traveling beyond Aekoran borders. Most travel services are prohibited to you.](else:)[Your records appear to be in good order, and you are free to pass through the customs checkpoint at your leisure.] "Well," Corinth breathes, "let me show you yours. Then we can discuss it." [["Alright.->CuKCorinth2]]

(if: $Slave is true or $Servant is true or $debt is < 0 or $Wanted is < 0)["It means they're not going to allow you through that customs checkpoint. You're stuck here.](else:)["It means you're free to leave through the checkpoint at your leisure.] (if: $CorSlave is true)[And I'm stuck here, they won't let me through wearing this... uniform.](else:)[And I'm allowed to leave, if I desire."] (if: $CorSlave is true)[Still kneeling and leashed,](else:)[Looking to you at her side,] Corinth gestures back out to the rest of the customs terminal. "I've been here for awhile waiting for you, though. Maybe... maybe we can put our heads together and sort this whole situation out, though?" (if: $CorSlave is true)[[["Let's talk about your being in a slave suit, then."->KCorSlave]]] (if: $Slave is true)[[["Let's discuss my being in this slave suit."->KSelfSlave]]](if: $Servant is true)[[["Let's discuss my being in this serving uniform?"->KSelfServ]]] (if: $debt is < 0)[[["How about the fact I have negative credits?"->KCredits]]] [["Know anything about that protest over there?"->KProtest]] [["That's all the topics I want to discuss for now."->KEnd]]

Corinth shifts a bit, still holding her submissive, kneeling position leashed to the kiosk. "Well... I can't get off planet wearing this, as it said. And I... don't think I want to stay, I mean, that would be crazy, right?" She looks to you, as if needing that confirmation before indicating the rest of the customs terminal. "There is a wardrobe machine out there, but I checked, and it requires more credits then I have to remove a suit like this." Her hips shift subtly, perhaps a result of the plugs buried between her legs. "You're not... just going to leave me here, on Torei, like this... right?" [["Of course not. I'll figure something out."->KCorSlaveNice]] [["Look... I can't make any promises, alright?"->KCorSlaveMean]] [["What if... you did stay here?"->KCorSlaveStay]]

Corinth looks (if: $CorSlave is true)[to you, all except her eyes a mirror image of your identical bondage and restraint.](else:)[down at you, where you're kneeling submissively beside her.] "Yeah, it's a problem alright. There are wardrobe machines here, but they would take more credits then I have to remove that suit-- and you need it off to go through that customs checkpoint." She tilts her head slightly. "You *do* want it off, right?" [["...no, actually."->KSelfSlaveKeep]] [["Of course!"->KSelfSlaveOff]]

Corinth looks (if: $CorSlave is true)[to you, all except her eyes a mirror image of your identical bondage and restraint.](else:)[down at you, where you're kneeling submissively beside her.] "Yeah, it's a major problem. A wardrobe machine is going to check your ID, see that you're... a *slave,* and refuse service." The idea almost seems to intrigue her, as she tilts her head slightly. "You *do* want it off, right?" [["...no, actually."->KSelfServKeep]] [["Of course!"->KSelfServOff]]

"That's definitely going to keep you from the customs checkpoint. Even *I* know how this planet feels about being in debt even by a few credits. (if: $debt is > -51)[I do have fifty credits though, and that would be enough to cover you! If you want them, just let me know.](else:)[I do have fifty credits, but you owe... quite a bit more then that. Not sure I could help with that.] Any other questions?" (if: $CorSlave is true)[[["Let's talk about your being in a slave suit, then."->KCorSlave]]] (if: $Slave is true)[[["Let's discuss my being in this slave suit."->KSelfSlave]]](if: $Servant is true)[[["Let's discuss my being in this serving uniform?"->KSelfServ]]] [["Know anything about that protest over there?"->KProtest]] [["That's all the topics I want to discuss for now."->KEnd]]

"Something to do with... the Liberty Society?" Corinth shrugs her thin shoulders. "I wasn't really paying attention, but the Ministry of Truants clearly wasn't happy about their little get together. You're the Torean expert... except for the memory issues. Do you know anything about them?" (if: $TruantQuestEnd is false)[[["Not too much, actually."->KProtestNo]]] (if: $TruantQuestEnd is true)[[["Yeah, they're a front for running slaves off planet."->KProtestYes]] [["Not really."->KProtestNo]]]

Corinth nods. "Right." (if: $CorSlave is true)[(if: $Slave is true or $Servant is true)[Reaching over, she unclips your leash, then repeats the process with her own.](else:)[Reaching before her, she unclips her own leash.] Standing up, she indicates stepping away to clear the kiosk for others.](else:)[Closing the search windows on the kiosk, she indicates stepping away to clear the kiosk for others.] "Well, she continues... "I'm going to find somewhere to hang out for a bit. Like I said before, I've been here for awhile, but you probably want to look around. If you need anything just come over to talk, though.(if: $Wanted is 1)[ And... maybe we could talk about why the kiosk indicated you were, like, wanted by the Ministry of Truants? ](if: $Wanted is 2)[ And... maybe we could talk about why the kiosk indicated you were, like, a parolee? ]Up to you, of course. Just don't leave without me!" [[You step away, for the time being...->KEnd2]]

The slave-suited woman sighs thankfully, clearly relieved. "Well, good. There has to be some other option, even if using one of the wardrobes is too expensive." She looks back to the kiosk, presenting you with the silhouette of the strictly dressed and laminated: tight waist, breasts pressed out, wide hips. "Was there anything else you wanted to discuss?" (if: $Slave is true)[[["Let's discuss my being in this slave suit."->KSelfSlave]]](if: $Servant is true)[[["Let's discuss my being in this serving uniform?"->KSelfServ]]] (if: $debt is < 0)[[["How about the fact I have negative credits?"->KCredits]]] [["Know anything about that protest over there?"->KProtest]] [["That's all the topics I want to discuss for now."->KEnd]]

"You put me into this in the first place!" Corinth protests, sounding honestly alarmed. "Even if the wardrobe proves too expensive, there must be a way to get out of this situation! She looks back to the kiosk, presenting you with the silhouette of the strictly dressed and laminated: tight waist, breasts pressed out, wide hips. "Was there anything else you wanted to discuss?" (if: $Slave is true)[[["Let's discuss my being in this slave suit."->KSelfSlave]]](if: $Servant is true)[[["Let's discuss my being in this serving uniform?"->KSelfServ]]] (if: $debt is < 0)[[["How about the fact I have negative credits?"->KCredits]]] [["Know anything about that protest over there?"->KProtest]] [["That's all the topics I want to discuss for now."->KEnd]]

"Stay here, on Torei?" Corinth *wants* to sound incredulous, but you can hear something else emerging from her mask. Curiosity? "You mean with you, here? As like... freewombs, or something?" She seems to seriously consider the possibility, but doesn't jump to any strict conclusions. "Well maybe let's... explore the options that are here, before making any bold choices? (if: $Slave is true)[It would be hard going, with only a few credits to our name and both of us locked in these suits...](else:)[It would be tough, with only a few credits to our name, and me in this suit...]" Still, she doesn't just drop the subject. "Let's just see what the options are, alright? Did you have any more questions?" (if: $Slave is true)[[["Let's discuss my being in this slave suit."->KSelfSlave]]](if: $Servant is true)[[["Let's discuss my being in this serving uniform?"->KSelfServ]]] (if: $debt is < 0)[[["How about the fact I have negative credits?"->KCredits]]] [["Know anything about that protest over there?"->KProtest]] [["That's all the topics I want to discuss for now."->KEnd]]

(if: $CorSlave is true)[Corinth eyes you from beneath her own breath regulation mask, eventually shifting abit as if to alleviate discomfort, perhaps between her legs. The kiosk you remained before seems to recognize her loss of posture however, and addresses the movement loudly. "For continued service, retake submissive posture, slave." Corinth hurriedly does, returning her pose to proper form. It's not hard to imagine her blushing fiercely. "Well... it's certainly an experience, to wear one. I'll admit that."](else:)[Corinth looks down at your kneeling, submissive pose. Almost experimentally she reaches to your leash, running her fingers along it for a moment in thought. "I think... maybe I can understand, somewhat."] She takes a deep breath. "Still, that's not really an easy situation, right? Let's just... keep all options on the table, right? Let's discuss something else." (if: $CorSlave is true)[[["Let's talk about your being in a slave suit, then."->KCorSlave]]] (if: $debt is < 0)[[["How about the fact I have negative credits?"->KCredits]]] [["Know anything about that protest over there?"->KProtest]] [["That's all the topics I want to discuss for now."->KEnd]]

"Ah, well-- *good.*" She sounds almost... disappointed? "I'm certain there must be other ways to get out of such a suit, we just need to find them. Was there anything else you wanted to discuss?" (if: $CorSlave is true)[[["Let's talk about your being in a slave suit, then."->KCorSlave]]] (if: $debt is < 0)[[["How about the fact I have negative credits?"->KCredits]]] [["Know anything about that protest over there?"->KProtest]] [["That's all the topics I want to discuss for now."->KEnd]]

(if: $CorSlave is true)[Corinth eyes you from beneath her own breath regulation mask, eventually shifting abit as if to alleviate discomfort, perhaps between her legs. The kiosk you remained before seems to recognize her loss of posture however, and addresses the movement loudly. "For continued service, retake submissive posture, slave." Corinth hurriedly does, returning her pose to proper form. It's not hard to imagine her blushing fiercely. "Well... you certainly... wear it well? That skirt is, um, very cute. And *short.*"](else:)[Corinth looks down at your kneeling, submissive pose. Almost experimentally she reaches to your leash, running her fingers along it for a moment in thought. ""Well... you certainly... wear it well? That skirt is, um, very cute. And *short.*"] [["They pierced me, too... at my clit."->KSelfServPierce]] [["I know, everyone can see my panties."->KSelfServPanties]]

"Ah, well-- *good.*" She sounds almost... disappointed? "I'm certain there must be other ways to get out of such an outfit, we just need to find them. Was there anything else you wanted to discuss?" (if: $CorSlave is true)[[["Let's talk about your being in a slave suit, then."->KCorSlave]]] (if: $debt is < 0)[[["How about the fact I have negative credits?"->KCredits]]] [["Know anything about that protest over there?"->KProtest]] [["That's all the topics I want to discuss for now."->KEnd]]

"They pierced your... *wow.*" (if: $CorSlave is true)[She seems liable to attempt to rub her thighs together, but catches herself before the kiosk can admonish her.](else:)[She hesitates for a moment.] "I wonder what that-- no, nevermind. Let's just... did you have any other questions?" (if: $CorSlave is true)[[["Let's talk about your being in a slave suit, then."->KCorSlave]]] (if: $debt is < 0)[[["How about the fact I have negative credits?"->KCredits]]] [["Know anything about that protest over there?"->KProtest]] [["That's all the topics I want to discuss for now."->KEnd]]

"I know," she replies, a little too quickly. "Not that I was-- uh, I swear I wasn't looking at your, uh, uh... can we... just ask me something else, please?" (if: $CorSlave is true)[[["Let's talk about your being in a slave suit, then."->KCorSlave]]] (if: $debt is < 0)[[["How about the fact I have negative credits?"->KCredits]]] [["Know anything about that protest over there?"->KProtest]] [["That's all the topics I want to discuss for now."->KEnd]]

"Ah, well, you could always check it out? Up to you. Got any other questions, though?" (if: $CorSlave is true)[[["Let's talk about your being in a slave suit, then."->KCorSlave]]] (if: $Slave is true)[[["Let's discuss my being in this slave suit."->KSelfSlave]]](if: $Servant is true)[[["Let's discuss my being in this serving uniform?"->KSelfServ]]] (if: $debt is < 0)[[["How about the fact I have negative credits?"->KCredits]]] [["That's all the topics I want to discuss for now."->KEnd]]

"Oh! Really? How did you... actually, nevermind. But hey! Maybe you can just that for some sort of... I don't know, advantage? Or something?" (if: $CorSlave is true)[[["Let's talk about your being in a slave suit, then."->KCorSlave]]] (if: $Slave is true)[[["Let's discuss my being in this slave suit."->KSelfSlave]]](if: $Servant is true)[[["Let's discuss my being in this serving uniform?"->KSelfServ]]] (if: $debt is < 0)[[["How about the fact I have negative credits?"->KCredits]]] [["That's all the topics I want to discuss for now."->KEnd]]

Wandering back towards the center of the customs terminal, you pass under several elevated walkways that linked the upper balcony of the building. Along it you can see various other company logos marking further businesses located up there, but it's something else entirely that catches your eye: a woman in a black catsuit, watching you intently. Upon noticing she's caught your attention, she tips her head, indicating a small cafe located up on the 2nd floor near where she stood. (set: $SmugGreet to false)(set: $AcadGreet to false)(set: $ProtestGreet to false)(set: $Textile to false)(set: $CartSeller to 0)(set: $NarcAna to false)(set: $CorShip to false)(set: $CorRun to false)(set: $CorShipLiz to false)(set: $CorShipJan to false)(set: $NarcOfficer to false)(set: $NarcLiz to false)(set: $NarcJan to false)(set: $CorAcad to false)(set: $GEndOutfit to 0)(set: $CorCredits to false)(set: $CorOverride to false) <img src="https://i.imgur.com/y2r4ljL.jpg" width="40%" height="40%"> An invitation of some sort? Perhaps something to explore. [[But what to do now?->CustomHub]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/a7KjOhx.jpg" width="60%" height="60%"> You stand at the center of this final hurdle before escaping Torei, (if: $Textile is false)[a figure in glossy laminate](else:)[another figure in offworlder textiles] amongst so many now sporting the generic fabrics of the universe beyond. Looking up, through the glass roof, you're greeted with an awe-worthy view of the night sky, and strung upward through it the lights of the Way Up so very near. [[Approach the Customs Checkpoint directly.->CustomCheck]] [[Find where Corinth had wandered off to.->CustomCorinth]] [[Check out the Wardrobe Devices, along the wall.->CustomWardrobe]] (if: $AcadGreet is false)[[[Explore that... business you saw before, Celeste Academy.->CustomAcademyGreet]]](else:)[[[Return to the Celeste Academy office.->CustomAcademy]]] (if: $SmugGreet is false)[[[Find that woman who beckoned you, in the black catsuit.->CustomSmugGreet]]](else:)[[[Return to Anastasia.->CustomSmug]]] (if: $ProtestGreet is false)[[[Approach the remains of the Liberty Society protest.->CustomProtestGreet]]](else:)[(if: $TruantStat is 0)[[[Find Janeck, of the Liberty Society.->CustomProtest]]](if: $TruantStat is 2 and $CorSlave is true)[[[Find Janeck, of the Liberty Society.->CustomProtest]]](if: $TruantStat is 3)[[Find Elizabeth, of the Liberty Society->CustomProtest]]] (if: $Wanted is 2)[[[Find a means of contacting Officer Nikaido.->NarcHub]]]

Deep into the night, the lines snaking away from the final Aekoran checkpoint before entering the international zone abutting the Way Up proper aren't particularly long. Most of those you watch pass through are actually *entering* the exclusion zone, in fact, which made sense given your own ticket offworld-- scheduled for midnight, a fresh ride down must have just arrived full of tourists. Presumably the space elevator's technicians would be preparing for the reverse acent at that very moment. Still, to pass through the checkpoint would require an absolutely spotless record. Anything worthy of arrest would undoubtedly get you pulled aside, to be subjected to the altogether rough mercies of the Ministry of Truants. This would be a point of no return, and would be leaving Corinth behind. [[Enter the line.->CustomCheck2]] [[Turn back for now.->CustomHub]]

(if: $CorSlave is false and $CorDD is false and $CorSec is false)[Finding Corinth again is a bit harder then you had expected-- with so many of those near the space elevator without laminate, your friend no longer sticks out like a sore thumb. Still-- you persist, eventually finding her seated on a long bench along the side wall. Several other tourists are nearby, talking loud enough that Corinth stands, gesturing you to follow her to a spot a bit further away. "Hey," she greets. "What's up?"](elseif: $CorSlave is true)[Finding Corinth proves to be remarkably easy, given the tendency for most of those near the Way Up to be wearing offworld textiles. In the tight black slave uniform laminate you had picked for her, you discover her in a rather busy portion of the terminal-- yet with a solid boundary of tourists around, as if she were an animal in the zoo. She's given them good reason to stare as instead of seated on the bench nearby she's kneeling, legs spread, very much acting like a dutiful slave. She stands suddenly upon noticing you however, nearly stumbling on her heels in her haste-- and trying very hard to pull your attention elsewhere. "Hey, hi," she greets. "What's up? Nice... night, isn't it?"](elseif: $CorDD is true)[Finding Corinth proves to be remarkably easy, given the tendency for most of those near the Way Up to be wearing offworld textiles. In the tight black laminate ensemble you had picked for her, you discover her in a rather busy portion of the terminal-- yet with a solid boundary of tourists around, as if she were an animal in the zoo. She seems to be deeply enjoying the attention, even arching her back to thrust out her chest a bit more. "Oh, hey!" She greets, standing as you approach. "What's up?"](elseif: $CorSec is true)[Finding Corinth proves to be remarkably easy, given the tendency for most of those near the Way Up to be wearing offworld textiles. In the tight blue and black laminate ensemble you had picked for her, you discover her in a rather busy portion of the terminal-- yet with a solid boundary of tourists around, as if she were an animal in the zoo. She seems to be deeply enjoying the attention, even arching her back to thrust out her chest a bit more. "Oh, hey!" She greets, standing as you approach. "What's up?"] [[She waits for your response.->CorHub]]

As you've seen in your travels across Torei, transport areas seem to always feature Wardrobe Devices. When one's fashions could be so easily swapped, who needed to pack clothing during a trip, or wear the same outfit for dinner they had worn at lunch? Thus the ubiquitous banks of doors set into the wall, familiar panels outside of each. (if: $CartSeller is < 3)[Stepping up to one marked as empty, you notice something unexpected however-- a woman with a cart, several offworlder articles of clothing apparently for sale! In the very shadow of the space elvator, it appeared even *that* could be found-- although you notice a distinct lack of customers, while the Wardrobe Devices themselves are doing steady business.](else:)[The cart of the offworlder who placed into a slave suit remains, but is unmaned, the woman having fled elsewhere.] [[Focus on the Wardrobe.->CustomWard2]] (if: $CartSeller is < 3)[[[Approach the cart seller.->CustomCart]]](else:)[The cart seller's wares are locked away, and unavailable.] [[Step away from the Wardrobe.->CustomHub]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/FSxuvDj.jpg"> Veronica sits alongside the reflecting pool, watching you with discerning eyes. [["So... if I enroll with the Academy, I'll really become a slave?"->AcadReally]] (if: $Servant is true)[[["How can this even work, if I'm... already collared?->AcadServant]]](if: $Slave is true)[[["Does my being under slave codes, due to my suit, matter?->AcadSlave]]] (if: $CorSlave is true)[[[Ask about Corinth. "What if... I have a friend who may need... your sort of help?"->AcadCor]]] [["What would becoming a student involve?"->AcadDeets]] (if: $Wanted is 1 or 3)[[["What if I'm... already in trouble, with the Ministry of Truants?"->AcadTruant]]](else:)[[["You mentioned the Academy works with the Ministry of Truants?"->AcadTruant]]] [["What kind of training does the Academy provide?"->AcadTrain]] [["I've made up my mind. I want to enroll."->AcadEnroll]] [["Let me think about all this." Stand to leave.->CustomHub]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/y2r4ljL.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> Seated before Anastasia, the so-called "travel agent" looks at you expectantly. [["Can we discuss... the shipment option you mentioned?"->SmugShip]] [["Can we discuss... the key option you mentioned?"->SmugKey]] [["You mentioned... a special offer?"->SmugSpecial]] [["Can I ask about you, a bit?"->SmugAsk]] [[Rise from your seat, and step away.->CustomHub]]

(if: $TruantStatus is 3)[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/7dctUjB.jpg" width="30%" height="30%">](else:)[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/qP88j2l.jpg" width="30%" height="30%">] As promised, (if: $TruantStat is 3)[Elizabeth](else:)[Janeck] is waiting near the portion of the terminal reserved for tram arrivals. Even at this time of night the area is busy with those coming and going-- the Way Up never slept, and neither did those who managed the commerce and tourists coming down it. She eyes you, a hint of exhaustion in her voice. "Well?" [["I need help getting out of Aekora."->ProtestHelp]] (if: $CorSlave is true)[[[Ask for Corinth. "I need help getting a friend to the Way Up."->ProtestCor]]] [["Are you... alright? You look tired."->ProtestOkay]] [["If the Liberty Society is about changing Torei... why do you still wear laminate?"->ProtestLam]] [[Step away for now.->CustomHub]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/FSxuvDj.jpg"> You had glimpsed it earlier, while discussing with Corinth: something that stood out amongst the various small shops and eateries lining the Customs Enclave. *Celeste Academy*, the sign had read, and picking it out from the crowd you approach it again. The outer facade is glass, clean and gleaming, that accents well the sparse interior. Indeed, the room is mostly empty space excepting a small water feature in the center. Even your battered memory can recall how expensive water rights could be, making it a copious display of wealth. *Just what was this place?* As if to answer that, a woman sits patiently before you, running a red gloved hand slowly through the water. Ripples spread outward in tight little circles. (if: $Servant is true or $Slave is true)["Ah," she greets. "A slave? Come, keel beside me.](else:)["Ah," she greets. "A traveler, perhaps? Come, take a seat beside me.] The night grows long." [["What... is this place?"->AcadGreetWhat]] (if: $Slave is true or $Servant is true)[[[Kneel beside her.->AcadGreetKneel]] [["I am not a slave."->AcadGreetNoS]]](else:)[[[Take the offered seat.->AcadGreetSeat]]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/y2r4ljL.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> Seeking the woman you had glimpsed briefly you ascend the terminal's stairs, arriving at the second level. There several small stores and cafes can be found, in which one of the latter you spot whom you had been looking for. She's seated at a small table, dressed in a simply yet elegant black laminate catsuit. Her particular design has a front zipper, which is pulled down low. Sipping for a cup of tea, she doesn't seem to acknowledge your standing in the cafe's doorway. [[Approach her. "Excuse me?"->SmugGreetAppr]] [[Take the seat across from her.->SmugGreetBold]] [[Kneel near her table, wait for acknowledgement.->SmugGreetSub]]

The Liberty Society protest you had glimpsed near its end upon entering, and winding down even further some time later, is now truly spent. Gone are the placard holding offworlders, their boisterous yelling-- only a raven-haired woman remains, being spoken to sharply by a Truant Officer. As you approach the Officer storms away in disgust, while the woman you had seen leading the protest from afar remains behind, offering a rude gesture to the Officer's back-- a rare lack of distinct disrespect. (if: $TruantStat is 1 or 3)[You recognize her, it's Elizabeth, the one who had been working to smuggle the runaway slave out of Aekora.] [["Hello?"->ProtestGreet2]]

You make the decision to approach this final Torean hurdle directly, and enter the short line leading to the checkpoint itself. The wait is only minutes, and soon you're standing before a pair of Truant Officers. Instead of a greeting you're given a perfunctory command to present your ID. (if: $Slave is true or $Servant is true or $debt is < 0 or $Wanted is > 0)[It takes them only moments to bring up your information, a frown forming on one of their faces while the other woman smiles. "Kamn it all," the frowner grumbles. "Five minutes left on my shift, but now I have to do all this paperwork..." Her compatriot, the smiler, merely pulls her shock baton. "Don't you move," she commands. "You're under arrest for (if: $Slave is true)[attempting to flee Torei while registered under the slave codes.](elseif: $Servant is true)[attempting to flee Torei while a legally collared slave.](elseif: $debt is < 0)[attempting to flee Torei while holding debtor status.](elseif: $Wanted is 1)[attempting to flee Torei while wanted for questioning by our Ministry.](else:)[attempt to flee Torei while registered as a temporary parolee.]" Together they seize you harshly, forcing your hands behind your back as the smiler deploys a pair of heavy cuffs, securing your wrists together. [["What's going to happen to me!?"->CustomCheckArrest]]](else:)[It takes them only moments to bring up your information. "Let's see..." the left one begins. "Registered freewomb, in good credit standing. No outstanding warrants, no flags from our Ministry... everything seems to be in order." The other Officer rests her hand lightly on her laminate belt. "Taking the midnight ride up, I would imagine? Did you enjoy your time on Torei?" [["No."->CustomCheckNo]] [["Absolutely."->CustomCheckYes]]]

"Oh, it's pretty simple," the Officer holding you by the cuffs announces. "Our Aekoran Courts are always a bit backed up, but we will make sure you're nice and comfortable for however long it takes to get to your trial. And then? You will almost certainly be found guilty, and with your crime? That's instant revocation of your legal rights, followed by enslavement." "Yeah," the other one chimes in. "Much of the funding for our Ministry actually comes from the auctioning of girls like you, after a bit of training of course. You know, as a soubrette, or concubine, ponygirl... maybe you'll just be bought by someone needing an office girl. Running errands, filing reports, sucking cock..." The smiler leans in, meeting your eyes. "Your stay on Torei just got extended indefinitely." [[The months pass slowly...->CustomPrisoner]]

The first Officer laughs. "Blunt, but hey, it certainly ain't for everyone. (if: $Textile is true)[Guess it makes sense, though. Come all this way, and not even wearing a scrap of laminate? Takes a certain sort to leave that way, I suppose.](else:)[Still, I'm a bit surprised, given you're still wearing laminate. Gonna stick out like a sore thumb riding the midnight run. But hey-- your choice."] Tapping your ID to her console, the second Officer hands back your ID. "Well, you're free to pass through. Hope the trip was at least worth your time." [[You pass through...->CustomCheck3]]

The first Officer laughs. "Doesn't everyone? (if: $Textile is true)[Kinda surprised, though. Come all this way, and not even wearing a scrap of laminate? Takes a certain sort to leave that way, I suppose.](else:)[Should have known, if you're leaving in laminate. Gonna stick out like a sore thumb riding the midnight run. But hey-- your choice."] Tapping your ID to her console, the second Officer hands back your ID. "Well, you're free to pass through. Hope the trip was at least worth your time." [[You pass through...->CustomCheck3]]

Passing successfully through the checkpoint, you take your first steps back onto soil upon which Torean sovereignty did not hold sway. Despite having awoken tied to your own rented bed, without a credit to your name, you've made it. You're free, beyond the grasping shackles of Torean society, it's strange culture and restraints. And you've done it gracefully, passing freely through a checkpoint that *should* have tripped up so many. Those collared or wanted or with credits to their name would have been turned back, or worse, arrested. But you're **free**, and the galaxy awaits... (set: $Ending to 2) [[You make your way towards the space elevator.->GoodEnding]]

You've walked Torei's street, and tasted of its myriad delights. The promise of eternal pleasure had been placed before you, and rejected. Here you stand on the far side of it all, free-- but just how changed are you? (if: $Blue is true)[Among the crowd of passengers who load into the Way Up's carriage, you're one of the few in laminate. The blue of your catsuit draws the attention of most and the outright stares of a few as you take a seat, but their concerns worry you not.](if: $Smoke is true)[Among the crowd of passengers who load into the Way Up's carriage, you're one of the few in laminate. The smokey transparency of your catsuit draws the attention of most and the outright stares of a few as you take a seat, but their concerns worry you not.](if: $Brand is true)[Among the crowd of passengers who load into the Way Up's carriage, you're one of the few in laminate. The branded black of your catsuit draws the attention of most and the outright stares of a few as you take a seat, but their concerns worry you not.](if: $Sec is true)[Among the crowd of passengers who load into the Way Up's carriage, you're one of the few in laminate. The stately cling of your office uniform draws the attention of most and the outright stares of a few as you take a seat, but their concerns worry you not.](if: $Slave is true)[Among the crowd of passengers who load into the Way Up's carriage, you're one of the few in laminate-- and the only one so heavy restricted. The pure black of your catsuit draws the attention of most and the outright stares of a few as you take a seat, but their concerns worry you not.](if: $Servant is true)[Among the crowd of passengers who load into the Way Up's carriage, you're one of the few in laminate-- and the only one so elaborately costumed, or collared for that manner. The blue of your dress draws the attention of most and the outright stares of a few as you take a seat, crossing your legs daintily, but their concerns worry you not.](if: $Textile is true)[Among the crowd of passengers who load into the Way Up's carriage, you're among the majority in simple textiles. Stares are reserved for those who bear latex, which worries you not.](if: $GEndOutfit is 1)[Among the crowd of passengers who load into the Way Up's carriage, you're one of the few in laminate-- and the only one so strangely customed. The white of your unlatched straitjacket draws the attention of most and the outright stares of a few as you take a seat, but their concerns worry you not.](if: $GEndOutfit is 2)[Among the crowd of passengers who load into the Way Up's carriage, you're one of the few in laminate-- and the only one so outlandishly costumed, still very much the perfect doll. The feminine violet of your catsuit draws the attention of most and the outright stares of a few as you take a seat, but their concerns worry you not.] (if: $CorStat is 1 or 2 or 3)[At your side Corinth boards as well, taking her own spot directly beside you.] (set: $Status to 7) [[Eventually the carriage lurches skyward...->GoodEnding2]]

"Your proper submissiveness since arrest have been noted," the Judge makes clear, as Truant Officers approach you. Raising you up to your feet, one presses a guide pole to the back of your collar. The forked head snaps easily to the metal mounting points, giving them easy control you, already straitjacketed and hobbled as you are. As you're led from the courtroom another identically uniformed Truant brought in behind for her sentencing, but the Judge does look your way once more. "Officers? Allow the slave to cum, *once*, upon return to her cell. But only if she begs for it." A final reward for your submission, before the training begins. (set: $Status to 3)(set: $Value to 1) [[The auction awaits...->AcademyStart]]

The Judge merely sighs, leaning back in his chair as several Officers move in to deal with you. Straitjacketed and hobbled, you can hardly resist as one forces you face down upon the floor-- hard. Another snaps a guide pole to the back of your collar, the pole's forked head hooking to the hardpoints with ease. Roughly you're then raised, a third Officer forcing your mouth open as she shoves an orange ball between your lips. A harness is then secured around your head, keeping it firmly in place. You know struggling against a guide pole is nearly impossible, and begin to simmer down as the Officers guide you from the room, undoubtedly back to your cell. "I suspect you will take poorly to training," the Judge insists from on high, free to get in the final word now that you're gagged. "It matters not, of course. Breaking slaves is our specialty here, in Aekora." (set: $Status to 3)(set: $Value to -1) Behind you another Truant, identically uniformed, is led in for their sentencing. [[The auction awaits...->AcademyStart]]

This late at night the Wardrobe machines are relatively quiet, with few making use of those services. For those bleary-eyed tourists coming in on a near-midnight express ride down the Way Up, perhaps they simply seek the comfort of their hotel beds. Stepping up to one of the free Wardrobe Devices, you provide the ocular scan the machines always demanded. (if: $Servant is true)[Instead of opening up to the usual selection of outfits and accesories you're familiar with, however, the device instead provides a warning in stark letters: *Slave Restrictions Detected: your account is flagged as operating under wardrobe restrictions, access to public wardrobe devices is thus denied. Addendum: your owner has set a custom punishment cycle to correct this attempt to choose your own clothing. Preparing in 3... 2... 1...* [[Punishment!?->WardPunish]]](else:)[The collection of available outfits, accessories, and restraints is indeed impressive-- but you focus on the more immediate concerns before you. (if: $debt is > 49)[(if: $Ballet is true)[[Ballet Boot Removal (50 Credits)->BalletRemove]]](else:)[You need more credits for this selection.] (if: $debt is > 50)[(if: $Plugs is true and $Slave is false)[[Plug Removal (50 Credits)->PlugRemoval]](if: $Wet is true and $Slave is true)[You could remove your plugs, but would need to free yourself of your suit first.]](else:)[You need more credits for this selection.] (if: $debt is > 49)[(if: $Wet is true)[[Thigh Band Removal (50 Credits)->BandRemoval]]](else:)[You need more credits for this selection.] (if: $debt is > 249)[(if: $Slave is true)[[Slave Suit Removal (250 Credits)->SSRemoval]]](else:)[You need more credits for this selection.] (if: $CorSlave is true)[[[You could probably use this machine to free Corinth from her slave suit, check for that.->WardCorCheck]]] [[Actually, nevermind. Step away.->CustomWardrobe]] ]

(if: $CartSeller is 1)[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/txmK3kZ.jpg" width="35%" height="35%">](if: $CartSeller is 2)[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/8lgIDnJ.png" width="35%" height="35%">](if: $CartSeller is 3)[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/Q8FIDj1.png" width="35%" height="35%">] The cart is small, and the selection quite limited, but the fact it exists at all is a solid testament to offworlder influence. (if: $CartSeller is 0)[Manning the cart is a woman wearing much the same, rough looking materials that seem almost crude compared to the gloosy sheen of proper laminate.](if: $CartSeller is 1)[Manning the cart is the same woman you've seen before, wearing the simple black catsuit you had selected for her. She seems to be running her hands slowly down her corset.](if: $CartSeller is 2)[Manning the cart is the same woman you've met before, wearing the outfit you purchased for her-- what passed for professional on Torei. The tight cling of her pencil skirt is clearly something she's still getting used to.] (if: $Slave is true or $Servant is true)["Before you even try, just know that I can't sell you anything, ma'am," she greets, upon seeing your approach. "No offense intended, but the Truant Officers here barely put up with my presence as is. Can't bother them further by selling to a slave. You understand, right?(if: $Slave is true)[ But those suits can be removed, so if you come back without it I would of course sell to you!]"](else:)["Hello," she greets expectantly, clearly glad to have a customer. "Are you in the market for some offworlder wear? Of course you are! Please, come take a look!"] (if: $Slave is false and $Servant is false)[ (if: $Textile is false)[["What are you selling?->BuyTextile]](else:)[["Actually I already bought some, remember?"->BoughtTextile]]] (if: $CartSeller is < 1)[[["Actually... I was wondering if you've ever tried laminate? Would you like to?"->CartLaminate]]] [[Leave her be, and step back.->CustomWardrobe]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/l6MJckM.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> "Why I'm selling something you're *clearly* in dire need of, if I must say so myself! Textile clothing, direct from the galaxy above!" She flourishes a hand upward, as if to indicate the very heavens themselves. "Now, my selection is a bit limited. In fact I only have one style currently in stock, but I can assure you, it would be just right for you!" Presenting the outfit to you, the clothing is revealed to be a simple synthetic top and trousers, both in shades of grey. Shoes would be included as well, in black. Compared to the bright colors and daring gloss of laminate, you cannot help but feel the offworlder materials are... quite cautious and moderate. *Dull.* Still, the merchant seems eager to make a sale. "And it can be yours, alongside a set of shears to free you from your current outfit, for the low, low cost of 400 credits... and your discretion, of course. Cutting some laminate bits off isn't... exactly legal." She holds up a hand, as if to preempt an argument. "Now, I know what you're thinking-- how can that be so expensive? Well, you may not know that Torei does not grow or produce a single bit of material that can be used for even the simplest of outfits-- except laminate, of course. So what I have here on sale is incredibly rare, and worth it, for a discerning woman such as yourself." (if: $debt is > 399)[[["I'll take it!"->BuyTextile2]]](else:)[You do not have enough credits to purchase this.] [["Cutting laminate is illegal?"->BuyTexCut]] [["Actually, I'll have to think on it some more." You step back towards the Wardrobe Devices.->CustomWardrobe]]

"Indeed, indeed," the merchant replies, rubbing her hands together. "And just think-- you're a rarity on this planet, being dressed so simply! A normal offworlder, on a planet chock full of laminate!" You think about it indeed. Do you miss it? [[Something to consider as you step back towards the Wardrobe Devices.->CustomWardrobe]]

"Wear laminate myself?" The suggestion seems to take the merchant by surprise. "Why, no-- this is as far as I've traveled from the Way Up, I'm just here to make some credits after all." (if: $Textile is true)[She looks to your own clothing, now not of laminate and very much of offworld persuasion. "Besides, you just spent 400 credits to get out of the stuff yourself, right? Not a very compelling argument to suggest it's as good as the Toreans themselves say. So... yeah, no thanks. Not going to happen." [[Worth a try. Although, were you still in laminate yourself...?->CustomCart]]](else:)[She looks to your own clothing, (if: $Blue is true)[the glossy blue laminate of your catsuit, the heavy restraints across your body](if: $Smoke is true)[the smoky black transparency of your catsuit, the way your skin beneath is shown so directly](if: $Brand is true)[the branded black laminate of your catsuit, the way your chest and hips are little more then space for adverts](if: $Sec is true)[the glossy laminate of your office wear, skirt clinging to tightly to your wide hips](if: $Slave is true)[the pure black encapsulation of your slave suit, corset and mask](if: $Servant is true)[the baby blue laminate of your uniform, skirt so poofed and scandalously short](if: $Ballet is true)[, the ballet heels keeping you eternally *en pointe*](if: $Wet is true)[, the bands across your thighs, so lewdly proclaiming your desires]. "I... do not wish to spend any credits on such things, you must understand!" She seems to be trying to reassure herself. [["Alright, fine, I'll drop it.->CustomCart]] [["Maybe I'd pay for you. Let's take a look at a Wardrobe."->CartLaminate2]]]

By selecting to restart *Lost in Laminate*, all unsaved progress will be wiped clean. Please make sure to save your file if so desired before choosing to restart. If you do not wish to restart/load at this time, simply utilize the game's back arrow to return to wherever you were. Restarting will also clear the game and allow you to access the loading page at the start. (link: "RETURN TO START")[(reload:)]

(set: $debt to it - 400)"Wonderful!" The saleswoman exclaims, already registering the transaction upon her *glass*. She waits until the device returns a successful credit transfer, then busies herself immediately with taking a few quick measurements. That accomplished, she selects one of the ensembles from her cart, along with a set of thin shears. "Laminate is intended to be disposable," she notes, "and you're not a slave, so simply cut away. I have a screen nearby, you can use that to change." (set: $Blue to false)(set: $Smoke to false)(set: $Brand to false)(set: $Sec to false)(set: $Textile to true)(set: $Plugs to false)(set: $Wet to false)(set: $Ballet to false) Following her instructions, you work to remove the laminate you've been wearing, in one form or another, since this morning. Freed from its firm and ever-present embrace you're left momentarily exposed, cold, and with a sense of... having lost something, perhaps? The sensation of your clothing is certainly different, as you step out from behind the changing screen. Gone are your heels, and the glossy shine of laminate, replaced by a fabric that almost seems itchy, that hangs loosely from you. Once again you blend in amongst the new arrivals so common here, looking the part of a tourist at the very least. [[You step away, the fabric rough on your skin...->CustomWardrobe]]

"Good," the Judge declares from on high. "It is preferred a slave keep to her collar. It will take several weeks for your case to be cleared, upon which time your owner will be notified that you are ready for retrieval. You will remain a prisoner of the Ministry of Truants until that time. Beyond that time your means of service and any corrective action determined necessary will be at the discretion of your owner." He leans over his dias to meet your gaze. "Do you have any final words for this court, Prisoner #38511b?" [["No, Master."->LushEnd4Nice]] [["I accept my punishment, Master."->LushEnd4Nice]] [["Yeah. Fuck you."->LushEnd4Bad]]

The Judges nods his understand and assent from atop the dias. "So be it. Let it be recorded by this Court that the Prisoner has elected to seek retraining and auction by this penal system, according to its laws and customs. Her permanent record will bear testament to her having been legally extracted from her current enslavement, and her registered owner compensated as per the Aekoran Slave Codes, Article thirty-three." (set: $ServBail to true) He leans over his dias to meet your gaze. "Do you have any final words for this court, Prisoner #38511b?" [["No, Master."->PrisonerEnd4Nice]] [["I accept my punishment, Master."->PrisonerEnd4Nice]] [["Yeah. Fuck you."->PrisonerEnd4Bad]]]

"Your proper submissiveness since arrest have been noted," the Judge makes clear, as Truant Officers approach you. Raising you up to your feet, one presses a guide pole to the back of your collar. The forked head snaps easily to the metal mounting points, giving them easy control you, already straitjacketed and hobbled as you are. As you're led from the courtroom another identically uniformed Truant brought in behind for her sentencing, but the Judge does look your way once more. "Officers? Allow the slave to cum, *once*, upon return to her cell. But only if she begs for it." A final reward for your submission. (set: $Status to 3) [[How soon until your Master comes?->LushEnd2]]

The Judge merely sighs, leaning back in his chair as several Officers move in to deal with you. Straitjacketed and hobbled, you can hardly resist as one forces you face down upon the floor-- hard. Another snaps a guide pole to the back of your collar, the pole's forked head hooking to the hardpoints with ease. Roughly you're then raised, a third Officer forcing your mouth open as she shoves an orange ball between your lips. A harness is then secured around your head, keeping it firmly in place. You know struggling against a guide pole is nearly impossible, and begin to simmer down as the Officers guide you from the room, undoubtedly back to your cell. "I suspect you will take poorly to your collar," the Judge insists from on high, free to get in the final word now that you're gagged. "It matters not, of course. Breaking slaves is our specialty here, in Aekora." (set: $Status to 3) Behind you another Truant, identically uniformed, is led in for their sentencing. [[How soon until your Master comes?->LushEnd2]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/hjBAqe9.jpg"> (set: $Status to 3)Your name upon the small placard set beside the door finally allows your situation to sink in fully, in a way it had not over the past few months. There, in finely engraved letters, your *cage* is so clearly identified. Your new home, one among a good dozen or so in the backrooms of Club Lush. "So the Club is open until dawn, and then we have cleanup," Cherish explains, standing beside you in a blue uniform that matched your own. Tight, laminate, with skirts too short to ever truly hide the bright white panties just beneath. She's been giving you the tour, and explaining the rules. "After the Club is cleaned, if you've been good you might be allowed to cum. Or if you're bad... well, just don't be that, alright?" She smiles beside you, hands clasped before her waist. "It can be hard at times, but Master Kaleb is fair. He only punishes us if we deserve it. Are you ready for your first night on the floor? You've been assigned a smaller area, so you can get used to it." [["I'm ready."->LushEnd3]]

"I... well..." she bites her bottom lip, staring at your own laminated form for awhile. "I guess I have always been curious... but I must ask-- what's it like? Be truthful. It looks... very embarrassing, being so tight." [["It feels... wonderful, I assure you."->CartLaminateYes]] [["It is exactly that: embarrassing. And I love it."->CartLaminateNo]] [["Honestly... it's hard, everyone will stare at you..."->CartLaminateNo]] [["You will never know, until you try it-- my treat."->CartLaminateYes]]

She lingers for a moment behind the protection of her cart... but in the end your temptation proves too much. "Well-- alright... gotta try everything once, right? I've never done this before, so you will need to show me how to do it, alright?" [["Sure. I'm an expert at this now."->CartLam3]] [["Follow me."->CartLam3]]

The textile seller hesitates, but then shakes her head. "No... no, I can't. I mean I shouldn't, yeah. What would people think, seeing me selling offworld textiles, but dressed in laminate? And I would be so very exposed, just like *you.*" Her hands are held up, as if to ward off your temptation. "Yeah, sorry-- no." [[She was certainly interested.->CustomCart]]

The Wardrobe Devices are merely steps away, and after explaining that she need only step inside the machine, you approaching the touchscreen as the doors of the Device close. You could spend all day looking through the various options and customizable sections available, but in the end you settle upon three such possibilites. [[Check out "the Tourist's Special."->CartLamCat]] [[Check out "the Dutiful Shopkeeper."->CarLamSec]] [[Check out "the Standardized Slave Suit."->CartLamSlave]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/txmK3kZ.jpg" width="35%" height="35%"> The *Tourist's Special* appears to be an attempt to provide the quintessential Torean experience. Based around a simple black catsuit, accessories are listed as an underbust corset and a set of heeled boots-- the latter being particularly aggressive, with towering platforms. Complementing makeup is incloded. The cost is: 50 credits. [[Choose this one!->CartLamCat2]] [[Check out "the Dutiful Shopkeeper."->CarLamSec]] [[Check out "the Standardized Slave Suit."->CartLamSlave]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/8lgIDnJ.png" width="35%" height="35%"> The *Dutiful Shopkeeper* is an attempt at providing an all-in-one outfit for those looking to maintain a professional appearance, by Torean standards at least. Based around a long white pencil skirt and black blouse, the latter includes a significant cleavage window while the former goes below the knee-- restricting the gait considerably. Accesories are listed as a pair of white laminate gloves, five inch heeled pumps, a high-waisted belt, and complementing makeup. The cost is 100 credits. [[I'll take this one!->CartLamSec2]] [[Check out "the Tourist's Special."->CartLamCat]] [[Check out "the Standardized Slave Suit."->CartLamSlave]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/Q8FIDj1.png" width="35%" height="35%"> The screen displays a pair of models wearing the selected outfit. To call it *intense* would be a severe understatement, as the warning that follows makes clear: *This is a standardized Slave-Rated Wardrobe outfit, as described in the Aekoran Slave Codes, Chapter 812, subsection 10. Wearing this uniform will subject all Slaves to High Protocol Laws as described in the Aekoran Slave Code, Chapter 679. Freewombs wearing this uniform will be subjected to portions of the Slave Code, and certain liberties may be revoked.* Accessories are listed as the pictured corset, heels, regulation mask, posture collar, and (non-pictured) inserts. The corset is noted as featuring 'real steel' boning, and is custom-measured to match standard Torean expectations of functional corsetry. So too does the posture collar proudly proclaim its core as beein 'real steel', as well as meeting all Aekoran slave law requirements. The heels are listed as six inches in height, with one inch platforms. The mask is simply described as rated for Torean storms, as well as regulating oxygen intake. And the inserts? Those are described as front and rear installation, custom-molded for maximum stimulation. All devices feature 10 hour self-release locks. On one hand it would a terribly strict crash course in Torean culture for the shopkeeper, but on the other... (if: $Slave is true)[you wear the exact same outfit, with all the discomfort-- and pleasure-- that came along with it.] (if: $CorSlave is true)[And you've already graced Corinth with such an outfit, why not spread the joy further?] *This outfit will cost you: 200 credits.* [[I'll take this one!->CartLamSlave2]] [[Check out "the Tourist's Special."->CartLamCat]] [[Check out "the Dutiful Shopkeeper."->CarLamSec]]

(set: $debt to it - 50)(set: $CartSeller to 1)Making your selection, you hear the Wardrobe Device whirl to life as the control console deducts the credits from your account. (if: $debt is < 0)[Perhaps you should have been more careful, as you've now fallen below zero credits, a fact the kiosk you used with Corinth indicated would be troublesome.] Your experience with Wardrobe Devices being rather advanced by now, you know the transformation would take only a few moments... and in short order the door slides open... [[She emerges...->CartLam4]]

(set: $debt to it - 100)(set: $CartSeller to 2)Making your selection, you hear the Wardrobe Device whirl to life as the control console deducts the credits from your account. (if: $debt is < 0)[Perhaps you should have been more careful, as you've now fallen below zero credits, a fact the kiosk you used with Corinth indicated would be troublesome.] Your experience with Wardrobe Devices being rather advanced by now, you know the transformation would take only a few moments... and in short order the door slides open... [[She emerges...->CartLam4]]

(set: $debt to it - 200)(set: $CartSeller to 3)Making your selection, you hear the Wardrobe Device whirl to life as the control console deducts the credits from your account.(if: $debt is < 0)[ Perhaps you should have been more careful, as you've now fallen below zero credits, a fact the kiosk you used with Corinth indicated would be troublesome.] Your experience with Wardrobe Devices being rather advanced by now, you know the transformation would take a bit longer, especially given the installation of inserts-- a moment you recognized from the muffled yell that emerges from within, quickly devolving into a moan... [[She emerges...->CartLam4]]

(if: $CartSeller is 1)[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/txmK3kZ.jpg" width="35%" height="35%">](if: $CartSeller is 2)[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/8lgIDnJ.png" width="35%" height="35%">](if: $CartSeller is 3)[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/Q8FIDj1.png" width="35%" height="35%"> ] (if: $CartSeller is 1)[Stepping out from the wardrobe, the textile seller nearly stumbles on her towering heels-- but you catch her, meeting her eyes for the first time. She's wide-eyed. "That was..." her words cut out as she appears to look down for the first time, noticing her own body. The black laminate of her catsuit catches the bright lights of the terminal brilliantly, sending waves of glossy reflection along her hips and thighs, breasts and waist. Her ungloved hands settle on the corset, marveling, the newly applied lipstick marking prominently as her expression shifts to a shocked 'O'. "It's so... tight."](if: $CartSeller is 2)[Stepping out of the wardrobe, the textile seller nearly stumbles from the restriction of her skirt, but you catch her, meeting her eyes for the first time. She's wide-eyed. "That was..." her words cut out as she appears to look down for the first time, noticing her own body. Immediately her gloved hands move to cover the hole in her blouse, her chest exposed for all to see. Yet it's a demonstration of demureness she cannot hold, the desire to skate her hands down her own glossy body too much to resist. Her gloves heighten the effect, laminate gliding effortless across laminate as her newly applied lipstick marks her lips shifting into a shocked 'O'. "It's so... tight."](if: $CartSeller is 3)[Stumbling from the wardrobe, the textile seller has lost her individuality. Gone are her offworld textiles, or even a sense of identity, replaced by gleaming black laminate from head to toe. Heeled and corseted, she's clearly struggling to breath from the latter's influence, alongside the restriction provided by her mask. She meets your eyes with shock in her own gaze, tugging ineffectually at her new uniform. "What... did you do to me?!"] (if: $Slave is true)[[["Made you just like me..."->CartLamSlaveE]] [["I gave you the real Torean experience."->CartLamSlaveE]] [["I thought you would like something more... intense."->CartLamSlaveE]]] (if: $CartSeller is 1 or 2)[[["I know, isn't it wonderful?"->CartLamReg]] [["Yes it is."->CartLamReg]] [["You look great."->CartLamReg]] ]

"Well... I..." for one who made her credits calling out to passing customers, you seem to have robbed the words from her. Instead she twists and turns, admiring herself, a heeled shoe lifting as she shifts her posture. "I... thank you," she finally settles upon. "I certainly did not expect to be wearing... this. (if: $CartSeller is 1)[Never have I worn a corset before, and I'm not sure... it's just that it presses my chest out so much... and these boots! How can someone walk in them?(if: $Ballet is true)[ Although, if you can survive walking in those ballet heels of yours...]"](if: $CartSeller is 2)[This skirt makes walking so hard... and this shirt! I'm not sure I like how exposed it makes me. It's very Torean, but still... I can't believe this is what's considered something like professional, here."] She looks to you, for the first time with the eyes of someone who could truly understand what it meant to wear laminate. "Any... tips, for this?" [["Get used to others staring. Especially Tourists."->CartLamTour]] [["Watch your posture, it looks best when you do that."->CartLamPost]] [["Just have fun with it!"->CartLamFun]]

"I can't believe... it told me I was under slave codes!" Her hands find her hips, a natural accompaniment to her displeasure, but the act shifts her hips-- and thus the plugs buried beneath. (if: $Slave is true)[You know all too well how that would feel.] She leans forward as a result, moaning loudly, the movement only furthering the effect. It leaves her panting afterward, even as her hands move to her mask, trying to pull it off. The locks she eventually finds makes it clear that isn't happening soon. "You... you..." she tries to take a deep breath, but her mask prevents that. (if: $Slave is true)[You're identical now, a fact that sens a tremor of pleasure through your own cunt.] The merchant rights herself. "The Wardrobe said... I'm stuck in this for ten hours!" [["I know, aren't you lucky?"->CartSlaveLuck]] [["You can always buy your way out early."->CartSlaveMon]] [["I'm sorry, I thought you would like it!"->CartSlaveSorry]] (if: $Slave is true)[[["I know, I'm locked in too..."->CartSlaveSlave]]]

"Stares... yeah..." she had been staring at herself, in fact. "I can't really wear this all day... but I *must*." The merchant takes a deep breath, blushing furiously once she notices how her new outfit emphasizes her breasts while doing so. "I'm... just going to need a second, alright? If you still need me, just let me know... but... thank you?" [["You're welcome."->CustomWardrobe]]

"Posture... yeah, I can imagine... it couldn't be tighter if it tried I'm sure, right? Wow..." The merchant takes a deep breath, blushing furiously once she notices how her new outfit emphasizes her breasts while doing so. "I'm... just going to need a second, alright? If you still need me, just let me know... but... thank you?" [["You're welcome."->CustomWardrobe]]

"Fun... yeah..." she seems incredulous, but then again she's having a hard time resisting the simple act of looking down to stare at herself. The merchant takes a deep breath, blushing furiously once she notices how her new outfit emphasizes her breasts while doing so. "I'm... just going to need a second, alright? If you still need me, just let me know... but... thank you?" [["You're welcome."->CustomWardrobe]]

"Lucky? I can't be seen wearing this! And slave codes!? If a Truant Officer stops me for any reason... I'll have to wait this out, somewhere safe, by myself..." She takes a step back, again causing her plugs to shift. Without thinking one of her hands comes to the meeting of her thighs, ready to rub-- a fact that clearly horrifies her once she notices. "I'm... I'm leaving!" She declares, stalking back to her cart, moaning once more along the way. "And you just... leave me alone!" Packing up her cart, she pushes it away, leaving you in her wake. She's in for a long ten hours, at the very least, it seems. (if: $Slave is true)[The thought causes you to rub absently between your own legs, moaning wetly as your plugs shift. A passing tourist openly stares.](if: $Servant is true)[The thought causes you to lift your own skirt, rubbing absently between your own legs. Moaning wetly, a passing tourist openly stares.] [[Credits well spent?->CustomWardrobe]]

"No I can't! I have enough credits to but a ticket, not pay to have this removed! I can't be seen wearing this! And slave codes!? If a Truant Officer stops me for any reason... I'll have to wait this out, somewhere safe, by myself..." She takes a step back, again causing her plugs to shift. Without thinking one of her hands comes to the meeting of her thighs, ready to rub-- a fact that clearly horrifies her once she notices. "I'm... I'm leaving!" She declares, stalking back to her cart, moaning once more along the way. "And you just... leave me alone!" Packing up her cart, she pushes it away, leaving you in her wake. She's in for a long ten hours, at the very least, it seems. (if: $Slave is true)[The thought causes you to rub absently between your own legs, moaning wetly as your plugs shift. A passing tourist openly stares.](if: $Servant is true)[The thought causes you to lift your own skirt, rubbing absently between your own legs. Moaning wetly, a passing tourist openly stares.] [[Credits well spent?->CustomWardrobe]]

"Sorry? How does that help me? I can't be seen wearing this! And slave codes!? If a Truant Officer stops me for any reason... I'll have to wait this out, somewhere safe, by myself..." She takes a step back, again causing her plugs to shift. Without thinking one of her hands comes to the meeting of her thighs, ready to rub-- a fact that clearly horrifies her once she notices. "I'm... I'm leaving!" She declares, stalking back to her cart, moaning once more along the way. "And you just... leave me alone!" Packing up her cart, she pushes it away, leaving you in her wake. She's in for a long ten hours, at the very least, it seems. (if: $Slave is true)[The thought causes you to rub absently between your own legs, moaning wetly as your plugs shift. A passing tourist openly stares.](if: $Servant is true)[The thought causes you to lift your own skirt, rubbing absently between your own legs. Moaning wetly, a passing tourist openly stares.] [[Credits well spent?->CustomWardrobe]]

"And you clearly *like* it, you... you slut! I can't be seen wearing this! And slave codes!? If a Truant Officer stops me for any reason... I'll have to wait this out, somewhere safe, by myself..." She takes a step back, again causing her plugs to shift. Without thinking one of her hands comes to the meeting of her thighs, ready to rub-- a fact that clearly horrifies her once she notices. "I'm... I'm leaving!" She declares, stalking back to her cart, moaning once more along the way. "And you just... leave me alone!" Packing up her cart, she pushes it away, leaving you in her wake. She's in for a long ten hours, at the very least, it seems. (if: $Slave is true)[The thought causes you to rub absently between your own legs, moaning wetly as your plugs shift. A passing tourist openly stares.](if: $Servant is true)[The thought causes you to lift your own skirt, rubbing absently between your own legs. Moaning wetly, a passing tourist openly stares.] [[Credits well spent?->CustomWardrobe]]

Selecting the option for ballet removal, you enter the Wardrobe Device. It does not take long, the Wardrobe's dissolving liquid being applied ankle down to reduce your heels to little more then a slurry that glides down the drain at the bottom. In their place a set of boots are printed onto you, stilletos with a slight platform at the toe, but compared to your ballet boots they're a *considerable* improvement. (set: $debt to it - 50)(set: $Ballet to false) Emerging, you no longer are forced to walk so carefully. [[You return to the Wardrobe's console.->CustomWard2]]

Selecting the option for plug removal, you enter the Wardrobe Device. It does not take long, and soon you emerge feeling distinctly different-- no longer are you burdened with the sense of phallic intruders between your legs. For the moment your body betrays you, womanhood drooling in their absence, but you get the sense that will pass shortly. (set: $debt to it - 50)(set: $Plugs to false) At the very least you can walk without the occasional moan, now. [[You return to the Wardrobe's console.->CustomWard2]]

Selecting the option for thigh removal, you enter the Wardrobe Device. It does not take long, a simple set of shears built into an armature gliding between thigh and band to cut them free. (set: $debt to it - 50)(set: $Wet to false) Emerging, you no longer announce yourself lewdly with every step. [[You return to the Wardrobe's console.->CustomWard2]]

You're seized as soon as you enter, the door snapping shut behind. Much like the hotel's Wardrobe, this one has a drain in the bottom of the unit, its use revealed by the first stage of your re-dressing-- the removal. Instead of peeling the laminate from your body, a simple solvant is applied by a spraying arm, and in mere moments the material is dripping off your body like so much wet paint. Removing your plugs is a different matter-- that requires a pair of arms to seize them directly, but as you squirm in your restraints they're pulled free from your tortured cunt. You take a deep breath, the first in some time, as you are no longer masked. A brief, tantalizing taste of nudity follows... but not for long. With a fresh whirl, the Wardrobe begins working on your new outfit as a ring descends from above. Thus your outfit is quiet literally printed on, first applying bright white but transitioning to an equally vibrant shade of red as it passes your waist and forms a stylish pencil skirt. The ring descending bit by bit, rendering soft flesh into equally soft but so very *different* laminate. Secondary arms follow it down, providing spot treatment along seams and friction points-- although often the effect is for merely aesthetic purposes. Sometimes that takes the form of a second application of laminate, other times it lingers to produce something more substantial-- such as the small folded collar just beneath your chin, or the buttons that almost immediately strain to keep your bust constained by your bodice. You're given no time to rest as the base layer concludes, the ring rapidly ascending as other arms move into the space to begin work on your accessories. The peplum skirt you saw pictured is thus formed, starting with the belt at your waist. Small pre-forged rivets are sunk into the still molton laminate before it is sealed, as is the belt loop that is seated directly over your naval. Still held in place, small arms flair the laminate that extends over your rear, achieving the look most of the galaxy would label as *slutty* but Torei saw as merely coquettish. The final componenent of your outfit comes with the sensation of your own feet rising, the sensation unequal and focused primarily at your heel. Without the restraint arms you would have toppled over, but they hold you tight, tall heels being extruded into place. More red laminate follows, coating your feet excepting the stylish hole at the very front. Almost as an afterthought, makeup is applied last. Mechanical arms seize your head, holding it tight as nozzles approach your face. A quick blast of air instinctively causes your eyes to close, and in that brief moment the Wardrobe does its work. Your eyelids have been darkened, a crimson secondary coat added that flashed only when light slid across it. Pores and blemishes have been rendered impotent as well, while your cheekbones have been highlighted. And your lips are now a poignant, inviting red. (set: $Plugs to false)(set: $Slave to false)(set: $Sec to true)(set: $debt to it - 250) Then, with a final flash of white light and a conclusive hiss, the armatures withdraw. [[You emerge...->SSRemoval2]]

Just what the Wardrobe Device could do to you so far from Club Lush is demonstrated by the sudden jolt of fire that erupts between your legs, the piercing embedded in your clit emitting a shock to your sensative nub powerful enough to send your knees quaking. Your hands go between your legs almost of their own accord, quickly coming up against the panties beneath your scandalously short skirt. You yelp, but the Wardrobe hardly cares, instead displaying distinct text. *Enter the Wardrobe.* (set: $Strike to 0) [[Follow the command.->WardPunish2]] [["No!"->WardPunishNo]]

"Yes," the textile seller admits. "Many outfits are time-locked upon this world, and while my shears cannot cut through metal, it should make it through *your* outfit easily enough! Much cheaper then paying a Wardrobe Machine to remove time-locks early, you must understand. And the only way I can even entice some buyers... 400 credits is quite a bit for most people. But... let's not discuss this, alright? I'd rather not a Truant Officer overhear us. Let me remind you of what I'm selling instead!" [[She begins again.->BuyTextile]]

Torean communication technology lagged behind galactic standards, even relative to the planet's status as an isolated backwater of sorts. That made finding a means of contacting Officer Nikaido difficult, but you eventually find a video comm station. Instead of using numbers or contact addresses however, your activating of the system brings you to an actual human operator. The tight laminate of her uniform and the collar around her throat indicate this industry relied on physical labor, like so many other Torean stables. "Good evening, Mistress. Who are you looking to contact?" [["Officer Nikaido, of the Ministry of Truants."->NarcHub2]]

(if: $Strike is 0)[At the behest of the machine, you enter its small chamber for your punishment. Instead of the usual emergence of arms to restrain you however, the device's interior screen merely displays another command as the door behind you closes, clicking as it locks.] *The slave will take a kneeling position, legs spread, back straight, hands behind head.* [[Comply.->WardPunish3]] [[Stay standing. Screw this.->WardPunishNN]]

The Wardobe Device certainly did not have ears, even mechanical ones, to hear you-- but it clearly could tell you had not entered its closet-like interior yet. It responds simply, and in a manner you are wholly incapable of resisting: with another shock. With your clit already aching, this second one hurts even more, even if the actual voltage wasn't any different. *Enter the Wardrobe.* [[Follow the command, reluctantly.->WardPunish2]] [["Stop it!"->WardPunishNo2]]

Clearly you're not a particularly quick learner. The only response is another shock, this time eliciting a quiet moan. You do not have the means to remove your piercing, and it's clear this treatment will continue until you sate the damned machine. [[Follow the command, with deep reluctance.->WardPunish2]]

You take a kneeling position, the Wardrobe's interior providing just enough space for the position. Straightening your back reveals the very limited length of your skirt, the gap of flesh between it and your stockings starkly visible. Reaching up you place your hands behind you head, gloves pressed against your tightly styled hair. The position thrusts out your chest, the blue laminate covering it pulled tightly across your breasts. (if: $Pierced is true)[Your pierced nipples are quite evident.] Only then does an arm from the Wardrobe deploy behind you, it's purpose unclear-- your position and skirt hide it from view. The touchscreen meanwhile continues to issue commands. *You will speak aloud the following: "I am a slave..."* [["I am a slave..."->WardPunish4]] (if: $Strike is < 5)[[[No!->WardPunishNN]]](else:)[Your aching cunt cannot take anymore, you must comply.]

(set: $Strike to it + 1)(if: $Strike is 1)[Your piercing provides another firm shock, your back straightening as you bite your bottom lip to hold back the yelp. You feel so helpless, unable to remove the piercing, unable to escape the commands of the machine before you.](if: $Strike is 2)[Another shock is delivered to your clit, this one forcing a quiet sound of distress from between your lips. In its wake your cunt throbs, the pain now lingering.](if: $Strike is 3)[A third shock since entering, and the effect is adding up quickly. Your legs quiver, yet conversely you sense a bit of dampness-- is this making you wet?](if: $Strike is 4)[Again you're shocked, the burning sensation from your clit now remaining almost constant. You're panting too, unable to take much more.](if: $Strike is 5)[A fifth shock, and your will to resist collapses. You cannot escape your own piercing, and the machine utterly lacks mercy. Control over you is so *easy*, and handed between machines so simply. You cannot escape this punishment. You will be a good girl.] (link: "The machine repeats itself...")[(go-to: (history:)'s last)]

The armature behind you is revealed to be armed with a paddle, which it applies to your upper thighs and rear with a heavy smack-- providing an automated paddling. *Say aloud: "...my purpose is to serve and please..."* [["...my purpose is to serve and please..."->WardPunish5]] (if: $Strike is < 5)[[[No!->WardPunishNN]]](else:)[Your aching cunt cannot take anymore, you must comply.]

Another swat from the paddle, your thighs burning in response. *Say aloud: "...I will wear what my owner commands of me..."* [["...I will wear what my owner commands of me..."->WardPunish6]] (if: $Strike is < 5)[[[No!->WardPunishNN]]](else:)[Your aching cunt cannot take anymore, you must comply.]

Yet another swat, your skirt flicking as your hips shimmy a bit, trying to hold the simple pose despite the discomfort. *Say aloud: "...and I will serve with a smile..."* [["...and I will serve with a smile..."->WardPunish7]] (if: $Strike is < 5)[[[No!->WardPunishNN]]](else:)[Your aching cunt cannot take anymore, you must comply.]

Yet another swat, your punishment proving to be unrelenting. Holding the posture demanded is hard, and you seem to overcompensate by thrusting your chest out even further, as if such simple pleasure could please the Wardrobe. *Say aloud: "because I wish only to be a good little slut."* [["...because I wish only to be a good little slut."->WardPunish8]] (if: $Strike is < 5)[[[No!->WardPunishNN]]](else:)[Your aching cunt cannot take anymore, you must comply.]

Instead of another strike from the paddle-armed device behind you, instead you can hear it folding back into place behind its hidden paddle. The *lack* of another paddling seems to hurt all the more, however, the nerves of your pert rear struggling to understand the change. The Wardrobe, meanwhile, has one last command-- although this one appears optional. *You may now beg for a reward, if you will be a good girl.* [[Hold your pose. "Please... I promise... to be a good girl."->WardPunishEndGood]] [[Break from your pose. You're not going to beg.->WardPunishEndBad]]

(if: $Strike is < 4)[*You have received... an acceptable number of corrective actions,* the screen reads to your kneeling form. *Remember: good girls get to cum.* The machine doesn't go *that* far this time, but you are rewarded with a purr of sweet sensation emerging from your clit instead of a shock. It's a feeling that seems to ride your nerves straight to the pleasure center of your brain, a hearty moan emerging from your lips in response. Afterward the machine's door opens behind you, momentarily exposing your submissive pose to those passing by before you stand and emerge. Pausing, you adjust your skirt and blouse, the glossy laminate so smooth beneath your white gloves.](else:)[*You have received... an unacceptable number of corrective actions,* the screen reads to your kneeling form. *Remember: only good girls get to cum.* Afterward the machine's door opens behind you, momentarily exposing your submissive pose to those passing by before you stand and emerge. Pausing, you adjust your skirt and blouse, the glossy laminate so smooth beneath your white gloves while your rear continues to smart.] [[Did you learn your lesson?->CustomWardrobe]]

Unwilling to demonstrate your submission any further, you break from your pose, rising as the screen displays one last mention: *Remember: good girls get to cum.* Behind you the door opens, your rear smarting as you step out, back into the Customs Terminal. [[Did you learn your lesson?->CustomWardrobe]]

(if: $TruantStat is 1 or 3)[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/7dctUjB.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> Elizabeth notices your approach immediately, her eyes drifting towards the Truant Officer once more before rounding fully on you. (if: $TruantStat is 1)["You got a lot of balls coming to speak to me, after the shit you pulled. Did you see what happened to Amadori? They picked her up, found her-- because you're a kamned informant, aren't you? Well, I sure as shit don't want anything to do with you now." [["Wait-- I just need to talk!"->ProtestGreet3TS1]] [["Hold on a minute!"->ProtestGreet3TS1]]](if: $TruantStat is 3)["You again," she greets, still gruff but not as hostile as you remember. "I know you helped us, but we shouldn't be talking out here, like this." [["Wait--I need your help!"->ProtestGreet3TS3]] [["Hold on, I just need to talk for a moment!"->ProtestGreet3TS3]]] ](else:)[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/qP88j2l.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> The woman is unfamilar to you, her dress laminate but very simple-- as if only to avoid the attention wearing anything else would bring. Her eyes settle on your approach, arms crossing along the way. Only when you're close does she speak. "Yeah?" [["You're with the Liberty Society, right?"->ProtestGreetNew]] [["I just need to talk for a moment."->ProtestGreetNew]]]

Elizabeth glares, the look quite fierce. "Do I look like a give a kamn? What is your problem anyway? (if: $Slave is true)[Trying to get offworld I bet, and you're locked into the slave suit, huh?](elseif: $Servant is true)[Is that a *collar* I see? Oh, that is funny-- look at you, the pretty little serving girl, now. On the run? No other reason to be here.](else:)[Run out of credits? Truant Officers after you? No other reason to come to the custom's enclave.] Well-- tough shit. You failed to help us, so the Liberty Society will fail to help you. I'll make sure of that!" (if: $CorSlave is true)[["Well-- what about helping someone else?"->PGAskCor]] [["You bitch."->PGNo2]] [["Fine then!"->PGNo2]] [["Alright, I understand."->PGNo2]]

Elizabeth glances around, as if the walls themselves had eyes. Perhaps they do-- cameras could be remarkably small. "Alright, look," she concedes, "fine. But not here. Meet me over by where the trams, you probably rode in on one, unload. Lots of people, pretty noisy, good place to speak-- alright?" (set: $ProtestGreet to true) [["Alright." You step away, for now.->CustomHub]]

(if: $TruantStat is 2)[The woman's eyes narrow. "We make sure word spreads quickly-- I know you. Rumor is you're the reason my, uh, colleague Elizabeth is in a penal cell right now, looking at rights revocation and being forced into a collar." Her crossed arms tighten, the woman clearly having significant reserve. "I don't think we have anything to discuss." (if: $CorSlave is true)[[["What if I have a friend the Society could help?"->JaneckCor]]](else:)[[["Now wait just a minute!"->JaneckFail]] [["Wait--"->JaneckFail]]]](else:)[The woman keeps her defensive position, but does look you over. "(if: $Slave is true)[Given you're wearing one of the standard slave suits and you're so near the border, I can imagine what you want from me.](elseif: $Servant is true)[Given you're wearing a collar and you're so near the border, I can imagine what you want from me.](else:)[Only one reason people come to us, so near the border. Are you in debt? Truants after you?] Doesn't matter. We can't talk here, not out in the open like this. If you really have something to discuss, come find me where the trams come into this terminal. Nice and loud there." She moves to step away, but pauses. "Name's Janeck, by the way." (set: $ProtestGreet to true) [[Then she's gone.->CustomHub]]]

"You should have given me up too," Elizabeth spits back. "Someone else may even help an offworlder in trouble, despite what you did-- but I won't. I don't want anything to do with you." She exhales sharply. "Is that clear enough for you, Truant's bitch?" [["You bitch."->PGNo2]] [["Fine then!"->PGNo2]] [["Alright, I understand."->PGNo2]]

You take the hint, even as Elizabeth refuses to let up. "You know what? I'm not even going to stick around, you're liable to try and call in an Officer again I bet. So-- farewell. (if: $Slave is true)[Enjoy that slave suit, I hope someone gets around to putting an actual collar around your neck.](elseif: $Servant is true)[Enjoy prancing about in that slutty little skirt. Remember to lift it to your betters, like the good girl you are, hm?](else:)[I hope whatever drove you to come here finishes you off.]" And with that, she stalks away, back towards the entrance of the Customs Conclave. You will not be getting any help from the Liberty Society. (set: $ProtestGreet to true) [[Well, it was worth a shot?->CustomHub]]

She pauses, very clearly on the verge of walking away. Yet she hesitates, gritting her teeth. "Ah shit." Rounding on you, she sticks a finger in your face, wagging it. "I know this is going to bite me in the ass-- but I'm a sucker for helping people. Not that I'm promising anything... but if you want to talk, we can't do it here. Find me by where the trams let people off here, in the Terminal. Nice and busy. Noisy. Then maybe we talk more." She moves to walk away, but does throw one thing more over her shoulder. "Name's Janeck, by the way." (set: $ProtestGreet to true) [[By the trams, she said...->CustomHub]]

The woman shakes her head. "I don't want a collar because of you. We got nothing to discuss." Turning on her heel, she walks away, as simple as that. There will be no help from the Liberty Society, it seems. (set: $ProtestGreet to true) [[It was worth a try?->CustomHub]]

You move up beside her and provide your greeting. She keeps her eyes forward, even taking another sip of her drink before she finally addresses you-- (if: $Slave is true or $Servant is true)[without turning her head, or even looking your way. "I would have thought a slave would have more decorum." [["I'm not a slave."->SmugNotSlave]] [[Kneel demurely.->SmugGreetSub]]](else:)[turning her head to look up at you. "A bold one, I see. That bodes well." She gestures towards the chair opposite. "Well? You make take a seat, unless you a predisposed towards reverence." [[Take a seat.->SmugGreetStart]] [[Perform a reverence.->SmugGreetRev]]]

Her ignoring you is overcome immediately by your taking of the empty seat. To the woman's credit she does not turn away, and indeed her brows even rise, the serious expression she had been holding flirting with a bit of mirth. "My, you are a *bold* one.(if: $Slave is true)[ Even while wearing such an... intensive outfit.](if: $Servant is true)[ Even with a collar around your neck.] That bolds well, I think. Please then, make yourself comfortable I suppose. We have something to discuss." [[You settle in.->SmugGreetStart]]

So near the way up, the cafe is filled by tourists, only a few of them in laminate-- perhaps explaining why so many stare at you as you perform a Torean norm: kneeling submissively, waiting for a woman you presumed to be your superior to acknowledge you. Taking a place upon the floor, you spread your legs, setting your hands upon your thighs palms up-- a well practiced position. (if: $Blue is true)[The blue of your catsuit gleams, the zipper between your legs a silent promise.](if: $Smoke is true)[The transparent nature of your catsuit gleams, the zipper between your legs a silent promise.](if: $Brand is true)[The black of your laminate gleams, corset ensuring a proper posture, while between your legs the zipper there is silent promise.](if: $Sec is true)[The red of your skirt gleans, the tight laminate being hiked up a bit to allow the proper spread of your knees that the posture demanded.](if: $Slave is true)[The black of your laminate gleams, corset ensuring a proper posture, while between your legs the zipper there is silent promise.](if: $Servant is true)[The blue of your laminate gleams as you carefully adjust your skirt, your red glasses sliding slightly down your nose.] Tipping your head down, you wait for the woman. She takes her time, but does eventually pausing from her careful sipping to address you-- even if she doesn't shift her gaze your way. "You may approach, (if: $Servant is true or $Slave is true)[slave.](else:)[girl.]" [[Take a seat.->SmugGreetStart]] [[Perform a reverence.->SmugGreetRev]]]

That does induce her to look your way. "Truly? Color me surprised given your... manner of dress. (if: $Slave is true)[Only three sorts wear the full enclosure suits such as you bear. Either they are slaves, or they are freewombs on their way to becoming slaves, or they're just whores who enjoy the plugs, corset, and the like.](if: $Servant is true)[I do see that collar around your neck, and I am quite familiar with the livery of a servant-- which you most certainly are. Certainly few would *choose* to wear a skirt so short. Most everyone can see your panties.] But I digress. You may take a seat." She gestures towards the empty chair opposite her. "Unless you are predisposed towards the performance of a reverence." [[Take a seat.->SmugGreetStart]] [[Perform a reverence.->SmugGreetRev]]

"Well," the catsuited woman begins, pausing to take one last sip of tea before settling in for business. "I suppose you're wondering why I flagged you down, after you utilized those kiosks?" She leans back, legs crossed beneath the table, very much at ease. [["Yes, that's why I'm here."->SmugGreet2A]] [["Yes, Mistress."->SmugGreet2B]]

Moving up beside the catsuited woman, you perform your reverence, (if: $Servant is true or $Sec is true)[lifting your skirt to present your womanhood](elseif: $Blue is true or $Smoke is true or $Brand is true or $Slave is true)[emphasizing the zipper between your legs](else:)[undoing the zipper in your offworlder pants] while bowing your head and performing a smarty curtsy. If you managed it well, the woman is clearly unimpressed, but she does finally meet your gaze. "Good girl. You may take a seat. Arch that back a bit, show off those tits." [[You take the seat, arching your back. You are a good girl.->SmugGreetStart]]

"Good-- one does not come to this customs enclave without reason, and I suspect I know what motivates you. You're looking to leave? Well, walking through the checkpoint is certainly one way to approach it. But there are... others, if you were so inclined." She smiles. "My name is Anastasia. Consider me... a travel agent, of sorts." [["Travel Agent? What does that mean?"->SmugGreet3]] [["I'm not sure I understand."->SmugGreet3]] [["I am pleased to meet you, Mistress."->SmugGreet3A]]

"So polite. (if: $Slave is true or $Servant is true)[I can see why you're wearing that uniform. You're a good little slut.] Still-- one does not come to this customs enclave without reason, and I suspect I know what motivates you. You're looking to leave? Well, walking through the checkpoint is certainly one way to approach it. But there are... others, if you were so inclined." She smiles. "My name is Anastasia. Consider me... a travel agent, of sorts." [["Travel Agent? What does that mean?"->SmugGreet3]] [["I'm not sure I understand."->SmugGreet3]] [["I am pleased to meet you, Mistress."->SmugGreet3A]]

She holds up a hand, the half-glove there slick and shiny. "Before I do, there is something I need to make perfectly clear to you. Standing where you are now sitting allows Anastasia to loom over you, hands upon the table. "You will **not** fuck with me. The Truant Officers here answer to me. This little enclave is, for all intents and purposes, my personal little fief. Do I make myself perfectly clear?" [["...yes, Mistress."->SmugGreet4]] [["Crystal clear."->SmugGreet4]] [["Sure..."->SmugGreet4]]

"Such a precious thing you are," Anastasia purrs. "A proper little doll. Given more time, I would enjoy playing with you. But I *do* wish to discuss with you just what I can offer you. I sense you may be just the sort I keep an eye out for, as a... Travel Agent." [["Travel Agent? What does that mean?"->SmugGreet3]] [["I'm not sure I understand."->SmugGreet3]]

"Good." She settles back into her chair, pushing some of her hair back and out of the way. "I am glad we are on the same page. Now-- there are two particular services I offer, *shipment* and a *key*, alongside a third... let us call it a *special offer.* If you would like to discuss such things, or anything else just let me know. Otherwise you may take your leave as you will, I am always here." Waving for the cafe's laminate-uniformed attendent, she orders another cup of tea. (set: $SmugGreet to true) [[Anastasia's travel agency is open for business.->CustomSmug]]

"Ah, yes," Anastasia responds. "My most popular option. Let us say you seek to leave Torei, but you cannot pass through customs. Why? I hardly care. But you must, and I can provide, no questions asked. For the low cost of 450 credits you will be packaged as slaves so frequently are, for delivery. And that is how your crate will be marked. But upon shipment your crate will be... lost, only to be found on the far side of the border, where Torean laws no longer apply. There you will be freed, given a new ticket for the Way Up, and our business will conclude." (if: $Wanted is 2)[ This sounds *exactly* like the sort of thing Officer Nikaido wanted you to seek out! If you can find a public comm unit you're certain she would be very interested in this report! (set: $NarcAna to true)] (if: $CorSlave is true)[[[Ask for Corinth. "Can you do more then one person?"->SmugShipCor]]] [["Would I be... in this crate for long?"->SmugShipAsk]] [["How can I trust this?"->SmugShipAsk2]] (if: $debt is > 449)[[["I want to do this, I have the credits.->SmugShip2]]](else:)[You do not have enough credits for this service.] [["I want to ask about something else.->CustomSmug]]

"My *key* service is not one I recommend, but I understand some prospective travellers are operating under strict budgets." Anastasia reaches down, pulling a small keycard from somewhere near her hip. Holding it up before you, small letters appear emblazoned upon it: *International Port Authority* "Between this terminal and the international zone is the customs checkpoint, of course, but to either side are open gardens to which I can provide access, and a copy of this keycard-- which will get you into the otherwise securely locked door on the far side of said garden. All for the low cost of 100 credits." She twists her wrist sharply, sliding the card back down and out of the way. "I recommend my shipping services over this, however, because the garden itself is guarded, and we have never attempted this as of yet. You would be required to reach the far side of your own accord, and I do hate providing a service I cannot guarantee. Still-- outrun or outsmart the guards, make it through that door, and they will not be able to touch you. Fail..." She shrugs her shoulders, as if that could speak for itself. (if: $Wanted is 2)[This sounds *exactly* like the sort of thing Officer Nikaido wanted you to seek out! If you can find a public comm unit you're certain she would be very interested in this report! (set: $NarcAna to true)] [["How many guards are we talking?"->SmugKeyHowMany]] [["Finish your sentenance-- what happens if I'm caught?"->SmugKeyCau]] (if: $CorSlave is true)[[["Can I take someone else with me?"->SmugKeyCor]]] (if: $debt is < 99)[[["I'll do it. I'll take the key."->SmugKey2]]] [["Let's discuss something else.->CustomSmug]]

"Mention it I did," Anastasia replies, swirling the spoon in her tea. "And it is indeed *quite* special, because it is a rare day indeed that I offer passage through the checkpoint, no questions asked mind you, for the low price of *absolutely free.*" [["How can it be free?"->SmugSpecial2]] [["What's the catch?"->SmugSpecial2]]

"No." Anastasia replies sharply. "No last names, no questions, that's my motto. Very simple, easy to remember. You're going to remember that, right?" [["...right."->CustomSmug]] [["...yes."->CustomSmug]]

Anastasia nods immediately. "Of course... although I do not do bulk discounts, you must understand. For a second shipment it would cost an additional 450 credits, thus 900 total for you both-- or you could choose to merely ship this other person instead. It matters not to me." (set: $CorShip to true) You keep this in mind, to discuss with Corinth later. [["Got it."->SmugShip]]

"Travel time varies," Anastasia explains. "So as to not arouse suspicion. On average you would be within the crate... for perhaps a week? Maybe more. Given you're packaged in the same manner as an actual slave enduring long-distance shipment, you will of course be provided with nutrition. Torean slave slurry tastes quite horrid, I've been told, but it will keep you fed and watered." *One to two weeks!* [["Right..."->SmugShip]]

"Trust that you won't simply be shipped to some horrid antipodal plantation, to serve as a field slave?" Anastasia grins, a wicked expression on her lips. "You have no guarantees, of that I must admit. But you wouldn't be discussing this if you had better options, I imagine." She leans back. "To assuage your fears however... I will say that a particular Society works with me, using my services to help slaves... *travel.* If I am good enough for them, I should be good enough for you." [[She has a point.->SmugShip]]

She asks for your ID, pressing it against her *glass* device. "It seems you *do* have the credits," she confirms, with predatory glee. "Wonderful. Well-- if this is truly your desire, you need only say the word. But be warned, you will be taken for shipment preparation immediately, so if there is anything else you wish to do in Aekora, you best do it now." (if: $CorSlave is true and $CorStat is 5)[This would mean leaving Corinth behind, almost certainly dooming her to eventual slavery.] [["I understand, I'm ready to leave immediately."->SmugShip3]] [["Okay, let me think about it some more."->SmugShip]]

(set: $debt to it - 450)"Excellent," Anastasia replies, tapping out a command into her glass. Then she waits, patiently, until the requisite credits are indeed drained from your account. Once it does, you're treated to perhaps Anastasia's first pleased expression-- although quickly it turns predatory. She leans over table, one hand upon it. "We will begin prepping you for shipment immediately. All you *need* to do is tell the woman at the counter you want 'the slave's special.'" Turning your head, you look across the small cafe to where the cafe's attendent is slowly cleaning out a teacup. She looks bored. [["Okay, I can do that."->SmugShip4]] [["That's it?"->SmugShip4]]

The attendent perks up at that, looking over your shoulder to where Anastasia remains seated. To the unasked question the 'travel agent' nods, and that seems like all the attendent needs. "Well then," she lifts the portion of the counter that allowed access to the area behind it. "Follow me." Without waiting for you, she disappears into the backroom. [[You're committed now. Follow her!->SmugShip6]]

The backroom is not large, primarily reserved for the storage of the cafe's various supplies, but against the far wall there is something unexpected-- a pair of wardrobe devices. They appear a bit... bootleg, mounted on a rolling cart and being smaller then the official ones you've used thus far. Beside them are a series of crates, in differing shapes and sizes. Picking up a glassboard hanging from the side of the wardrobe, the attendant flicks through several pages. "Hmmm... ah, lucky you. Next scheduled pickup is for a trained fuckdoll slave. Academy-certified and everything. That means... the violet outfit..." She taps upon the Wardrobe's control panel. "...boots... makeup... gag... there!" Turning to you, she uses the glassboard to gesture towards the maw of the waiting Wardrobe. "Well? In ya go." [["Wait-- what kind of slave?"->SmugShip7Ex]] [["I'm not going in there!"->SmugShip7Resist]] [["Right... okay."->SmugShip7]]

"Hmm? Oh!" The attendent looks to you, then raps the nearest crate with the back of her hand. "We use different boxes, different claims of what sort of slaves are being shipped-- anything to throw off the Ministry. You're going in as an Academy fuckdoll, a slave who has been trained as a very dutiful sort of concubine. But that's just your cover, of course! All you need to do is look the part." She repeats the gesture towards the Wardrobe. "So... in ya go!" [["I'm not going in there!"->SmugShip7Resist]] [["Right... okay."->SmugShip7]]

The attendent frowns a bit. "It's... a bit late for that. Usually the people who do this *need* to leave, don't you? To get into the international zone? Well this is the way it's going to happen. So... get in there." [["Wait-- what kind of slave?"->SmugShip7Ex]] [["Right... okay."->SmugShip7]]

With a last hesitant look towards the attendent, you step into the makeship Wardrobe-- and it responds as you had perhaps expected, with a plethora of arms. Seizing hold of you they begin the systematic removal of your current oufit, but abstain from the (perhaps expensive) solvents used by other machines. Instead your laminate is simply cut off, the sensation of sharp shears running so near your skin quite disconcerting. Yet it achieves its goal without cutting you, leaving you momentarily stripped to your bare skin. Above you the halo-like device that mounted the printing armatures descends, and your new gear is built in place upon you. It starts with a Torean classic, the catsuit, this one in a purple shade that quickly proves to be semi-transparent. Black is then chosen for your accessories, which are formed more slowly. At your feet ballet heels are extruded and then connected to knee high boots, while at your waist an underbust corset is installed, then tightened cruelly by the Wardrobe itself. Afterward your arms are pulled back and layers of laminate applied upon them, linking them together in a single-sleeve armbinder that both prevents any usage of your arms *and* proves decidedly uncomfortable in mere moments. Progressing further up a posture collar, also in black, is printed for around your throat. With it in place, running firmly from jaw to collarbone, you cannot turn your head nor look down. Makeup follows, violet lipstick being applied to your lips, eyeliner and blush accompanying-- while large fake eyelashes ensure a permanently sultry look. The final component is a gag, a large black ball being seated behind your teeth as straps are printed to hold it firmly in place by snapping into place behind your head. Annoyingly, a tube seems to emerge from the back of the ball, tickling your throat slightly. Only then does the Wardrobe release you back out into the backroom. [[You emerge...->SmugShip8]]

"Well, the gag clearly works," the attendant laughs. Brushing a bit of your own hair from your eyes, she glides her hands up the violet laminate of your chest. It's a simple tease, and one she doesn't linger on before turning to present you to the box upon the floor. "Now, be a good doll and move up beside your box. Printed the foam insert to your exact measurements, while you were inside the Wardrobe. Should be nice and comfy... for awhile, at least." [["Mmmmggh?"->SmugShip10a]] [["Mmmmgh..."->SmugShip10a]] [[Let her guide you to the box.->SmugShip10]]

"I *really* can't understand you with that gag in," the attendent notes. "You really should practice your gag talk." *Was that a thing?* [[Let her guide you to the box.->SmugShip10]]

Given your bondage it takes a good bit of effort and assistance from the attendant, but eventually you find yourself laying in the box just tall enough to fit you. The foam padding beneath you is indeed rather comfortable, even providing a perfectly shaped indent for your bound arms. What's decidedly less comfortable is the lead she connects to the front of your ballgag, the tube positioned down your throat now serving a clear purpose, as she loads a small jug of some sort of liquid into the box beside your head. Food. Further restraints follow, black straps anchored in the box emerging to snap tightly across your body at ankle, hips, waist, and throat. "There--" the attendent concludes, placing two more items in the insets apparently designed just for them. "Accessories... extra gag, and a vibrating wand. Done! One counterfeit Academy-grade fuckdoll, all pretty and packed up. You just need your lid, and you're lucky, dolls get a *view.*" <img src="https://i.imgur.com/LHncakj.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> To demonstrate she holds up the lid for your box, which indeed does have a clear panel that would expose you from waist to head. The pink graphics and label mark the contents as *Fuckdoll Slave*, *A Fully Trained Torean Doll*, and *A Product of Celeste Academy*. Unable to move, there is little you can do as the lid slotted into place upon your box, then secured with several heavy locks. [["Mmmgh..."->SmugShip11]]

Through the window of your crate, the attendant waves with a smile. "Package pickup is the morning, but you're all set for..." she has the glassboard again, consulting it. "Ah, tough luck. Longer route. Well-- enjoy your time as a doll, you're looking at perhaps two weeks of it." Tapping your crate, she turns back to return to the cafe's front. [["Mmmmmghh!"->SmugShip12]] [[Remain silent. It's no use."->SmugShip12]]

As promised, they come for you in the morning-- two men, wearing simple laminate overalls. They very much look the part of basic labor and act like it, working together to lift your box. The restraints and foam work cooperatively to limit your jostling, and if your toes weren't so strictly pointed and your arms not bent back it would have almost been comfortable. Instead of taking you back through the cafe they carry your display box through some manner of backend tunnel before eventually spilling out onto a public thoroughfare, where a flatbed truck awaits. There you're loaded alongside a variety of other packages and crates, little more then property being moved from one place to another. Placed on your back looking up towards the sky, you're given your first (at least that you could recall) view of the Way Up stretching towards the heavens through the window of your box. You're *so* close, and yet in laminate and restraints, boxed like a perfect little doll, you might as well be a thousand miles away. Slowly it starts to recede as the delivery truck moves. [[One of the porters appears above you.->SmugShip13]]

"You know the worst part, Arnst?" He asks to his partner, presumably driving the truck up front. "When they make us haul one of these girls who are worth more then we make in a *year*, you know?" The other man, presumably Arnst, seems to suggest a shrug by tone alone. "Don't kick yourself about it, everyone knows those Academy fuck dolls are overpriced." The man above you meets your eyes through the clear portion of your box. "I don't know, I heard they're pretty well trained." You may have been staring at him, but he seems content to treat you as almost inanimate. [[Moan lewdly, arch your back.->SmugShip14A]] [[Remain silent.->SmugShip14B]]

Playing to the role assigned, you act the doll, moaning into your gag as you arch your back. Your bondage prevents much movement, but your chest is thrust up a bit for his pleasure. The man catches the sound and movement, a hand coming to his chin, as if in thought. "Slutty little thing." Arnst, up front, calls again. "You better stop fantasizing about owning the girl, and get back to work. Certainly you won't see her again, did you see that manifest? She's going far out into the Antipodes." The man above you sighs. "I bet she'd be a fun time..." [[He disappears from view, and you're left to your thoughts.->SmugShip15]]

Arnst, up front, calls again. "You better stop fantasizing about owning the girl, and get back to work. Certainly you won't see her again, did you see that manifest? She's going far out into the Antipodes." The man above you sighs. "I bet she'd be a fun time..." [[He disappears from view, and you're left to your thoughts.->SmugShip15]]

Time passes dreadfully slowly, in your box. Eventually you're offloaded from the truck, entering a processing center of some sort. You catch the glimpse of the occasional collared slave peeking into your display box, but most simply seem focused on their work-- and soon you're being loaded into the baggage compartment of a train. That's even worse, the barest hint of interesting locales replaced by a darkened interior. Sometime later, you think its night, you finally work up the courage to suckle on the tube hanging from your gag-- and are rewarded with a foul slurry that runs down your throat. Apparently the food of slaves, but all you can attest to is that it's thankfully filling. You don't need to eat much. And thus a cycle developes, your drifting into fitful sleep only to be awakened by the rattle of the train. When hungry you suck out some more of the nutriant slurry. [[Slowly the hours become days... a week passes.->SmugShip16]]

The train slows... but are you caught in a dream? It's been getting hard to tell the difference between the waking reality of your dark compartment and your sleep that seems filled with much the same. That you're awake becomes clear as you feel the ache in your arms and legs, a telltale sign soon replaced by blinding *light.* "Transit number... yeah, there it is," a female voice declares, just before hands settle upon your box. You're pulled out into the blinding light of day, although thankfully you're propped up against the side of the train instead of staring up directly into that burning sun. You're on a train platform of some sort, rolling fields of green stretching out across the horizon. Before you stands something downright terrifying, however-- a pair of Truant Officers. *Has the plan come apart? You can't even run!* [[They begin unlocking your display box.->SmugShip17]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/iQB9t2X.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> "Be careful," one Officer admonishes the other, adjusting her cap. "Don't scratch that box, you know what our orders say." "Yeah, yeah," the shorter one replies, standing back up as they work together to remove your lid. After a week, the fresh air that enters is heavenly-- and feels nearly as good as your fears of discovery being quickly squashed. "Pull the box, affix a new label, change the tracker inside," the Officer continues, as if speaking a carefully prepared script. "We've done this a hundred times, stop worrying." "I *always* worry with these dolls," the partner responds. "Most of these jobs are just cheap auction trash, but only the rich would own one of these slaves. Imagine messing that up." The bolder one rolls her eyes, then reaches down, plucking the vibrator wand in your box-- listed as an included accessory-- out from its slot. Her other hand settles on your hip, the smooth curve emphasized by the corset still embracing you so tightly. "Stop. Worrying!" [[Wriggle in your bondage.->SmugShip17A]] [["Mmmmmgh..."->SmugShip17A]]

"Oh, that sounds like a *yes*," the Officer grins, only for her partner to intercede. "No-- that was distinctly a *no*, and you know it." "Don't be like that," comes the response. "Come on, you know she deserves it. No one ends up as one of these fuck dolls without thinking solely with her cunt." The partner looks to you, then sighs. "Fine, but seal her back in afterward. She has to be on the train back to Grand Aekora in like, a half hour." And with that she departs, leaving you with the Officer-- and the vibrating wand. [["Mmmghh!!!"->SmugShip19]]

"Oh, that sounds like a *yes*," the Officer grins, only for her partner to intercede. "Huh, you're right, that was." "Told you," comes the response. "Come on, you know she deserves it. No one ends up as one of these fuck dolls without thinking solely with her cunt." The partner looks to you, then sighs. "Fine, but seal her back in afterward. She has to be on the train back to Grand Aekora in like, a half hour." And with that she departs, leaving you with the Officer-- and the vibrating wand. [["Mmmghh..."->SmugShip19]]

You have no more the means to resist then a doll, and the Officer knows it. Sliding the wand up between your legs, your own thighs pulled so tightly together by the intervening straps ensuring it could not move, she grins brightly. "How's that? Not good enough, I bet. You want it *on*." And with a flick of her thumb, it is, the rounded tip vibrating fiercly. You can feel it in your thighs, and much more alarmingly against the zipper guarding your womanhood-- such defenses providing little actual help as the assaulting waves of sensation begin working through you. "Better? Good." Pulling your lid back over, she slots it into place upon your box. The locks are reinstalled afterward, as a bit of drool runs down your chin. Once again you're looking out the plastic panel that was your box's display port, through which the Officer looks. She waves. "Enjoy your trip back the other way, dolly..." [["Mmmmmmmmmmgggh!"->SmugShip20]] [["Mnngh!"->SmugShip20]]

The vibrator is not positioned particularly well, making any real attempt at orgasm difficult-- but it does prove *relentless.* Eventually you're loaded back into another train compartment, returned to the relative darkness with other pieces of luggage, but the wand makes settling into your previous routine difficult. Despite your best intentions the vibrator is making you wet, inducing an ache in your loins that keeps you up at night. Even your meals, such as they are, are interrupted on occasion by a twitch of your hips. It just felt so *good*, and knowing you couldn't remove the damned thing only made it worse. [[And the train rumbles on.->SmugShip21]]

Moaning quietly in your little box, the doll you had been forced to imitate can only endure. But endure you do, two weeks of mindnumbing immobility, strict bondage, and tight laminate finally come to an end as you're unloaded once more. Just *where* you are isn't clear until your box is positioned upright upon a handcart, a man apparently signing for you before leaning you back to begin walking. Above you the Way Up looms, close-- so very close. Eventually you enter into a door, moving down several side passages before coming to a stop inside what appears to be a massive warehouse. Duraplastic containers are stacked all about, almost forming a small ring of privacy within the space your doll box is finally removed from the cart and leaned up against. Looking in, the man swings a key around his finger. "Ready to come out?" [[Surely he jests.->SmugShip22]]

He is. Working down the locks on each side of your box, he finally removes the lid-- then notices the vibrator, pulling that out first before addressing the straps securing you in place. Once those are free you try to lurch forward, a firm hand on your shoulder holds you in place-- before he offers a hand. "Two weeks in that getup, and those boots? You ain't gonna want to walk, honey." The truth is evident as you slowly slide free from the custom molding of the box, only to collapse, his strong hands the only thing keeping you upright. Carefully he guides you over to what appears to be a cot, that he helps you sit down on. Then he pulls out your gag. "Welcome to the international zone." [["...I... I made it?"->SmugShip23Made]] [["W-Who are you...?"->SmugShip23Who]] [["W-Where am I...?"->SmugShip23Where]]

"Yes you did," the man replies. "And that's after you pulled the bad luck of a... particularly rough trip, and I've seen all sorts of cover stories come through my little port. "Posing as one of Celeste's pleasure dolls is *not* an easy thing to do. And I'm sure Anastasia did not tell you about that." [["W-Where am I...?"->SmugShip23Where]] [["W-Who are you...?"->SmugShip23Who]] [["What... happens now?"->SmugShip24]]

"Oh, right-- name's Jacob," he says. "I'd shake your hand, but you've got that armbinder on... will probably need to cut that off." He begins looking through the workbench up alongside one of the containers. [["...I... I made it?"->SmugShip23Made]] [["W-Where am I...?"->SmugShip23Where]] [["What... happens now?"->SmugShip24]]

"The international zone of the Way Up, like I said. Where Torei's laws no longer apply. "You're free." [["...I... I made it?"->SmugShip23Made]] [["W-Who are you...?"->SmugShip23Who]] [["What... happens now?"->SmugShip24]]

"Well," he returns to your side, a thin blade in hand. Pressing it against your armbinder, it comes apart with surprising ease. "You've made it to your destination. Two weeks behind schedule and in a *very* interesting manner, but you made it-- just as my better half promised. Obviously I'm removing your binder, but I don't exactly have clothes for you. So you'll be wearing that on your way out of here." He pulls the armbinder away, your arms nearly screaming from the sudden liberty allowed them. After so long restrained, remaining strictly bound almost seemd the greater mercy. "So I'll provide you with a ticket for the Way Up, and you can be on your merry way." [["What do you mean by 'better half'?"->SmugShip25What]] [["That sounds... great, Jacob."->SmugShip25]]

"Ah, you met Anastasia I'm presuming? She's my wife. She runs her port of departure, so to speak, I run this one for arrival. My Anastasia's quite the hellcat, but I'm sure you already knew that. She give you the *don't fuck with me* speech? Love that one. It's true, though." He eyes you. "You're luckily you didn't mess with her. But hey, let me grab you that ticket." [["Sounds good, Jacob."->SmugShip25]]

He disappears around a container's corner, leaving you alone for a brief period. It's your first time to truly reflect on what you had just endured-- the means by which you had escaped. Looking down upon the tight laminate still cloaking your body, you work at stretching your arms and working your jaw, both prickling with firey pain as they're allowed to move once more. Had you truly *enjoyed* the two weeks spent inside that box? The way all who had looked upon you had seen a *doll* worth thousands of credits, a Torean rarity? Did freedom not pale a bit when compared to a life lived so strangely, as a thing in glossy laminate, a cherished possession? It's an idea you wrestle with for some time, until Jacob returns-- a fresh ticket for the way up in his hand. "My work here is done for the day-- did you want to be escorted to the Way Up's gates?" He asks, indicating the leashes hung along the wall. "It's not the way they do it out here, of course, but some girls who come through... just can't shake the Torei from themselves." (set: $GEndOutfit to 2)(set: $Slave to false)(set: $Blue to false)(set: $Smoke to false)(set: $Sec to false)(set: $Brand to false)(set: $Servant to false)(set: $Textile to false) [["Oh no, I'm fine-- no thank you."->SmugShip26A]] [["...yes, sir."->SmugShip26]]

"Oh, quite a few I would imagine" Anastasia responds nonchalantly. Clearly she wasn't downplaying the risks. "But the distance between the access point I would provide and your target door would not be *too* far. You will probably make it." She holds up a hand, as if to examine the back of her half-glove. "And if not, I've still been paid. A risk or reward scenario, hm?" [[Those don't sound like great odds.->SmugKey]]

"I ditch my copy of the key, and stop providing that little service." There's a long moment of silence before she continues. "Oh-- perhaps you meant what would happen to you? Arrest, most certainly. Followed by a trial, and almost certainly revocation of you rights and thus a Ringdom-mandated collar. We Toreans do take our border security seriously, I'll have you know." [[Not seriously enough to stop smuggling across it, though.->SmugKey]]

Anastasia nods immediately. "Of course... although the chances of you being caught do go up, so I would insist on doubling the price to 200 credits. Or, if this other person wishes to utilize my services alone, it would remain 100. You need only send them my way." (set: $CorRun to true) You keep this in mind, to discuss with Corinth later. [["I have other questions.->SmugKey]]

She asks for your ID, pressing it against her *glass* device. "It seems you *do* have the credits," she confirms, with predatory glee. "Wonderful. Well-- if this is truly your desire, you need only say the word. But be warned, you will be taken to utilize my key immediately, so if there is anything else you wish to do in Aekora, you best do it now." (if: $CorSlave is true and $CorStat is 5)[This would mean leaving Corinth behind, almost certainly dooming her to eventual slavery.] [["I understand, I'm ready to leave immediately."->SmugKey3]] [["Okay, let me think about it some more."->SmugKey]]

(set: $debt to it - 100)"Excellent," Anastasia replies, tapping out a command into her glass. Then she waits, patiently, until the requisite credits are indeed drained from your account. Once it does, you're treated to perhaps Anastasia's first pleased expression-- although quickly it turns predatory. She leans over table, one hand upon it. "You will be departing immediately-- the cover of darkness perhaps helping. All you need to do is tell the woman at the counter you want 'to take a walk.'" Turning your head, you look across the small cafe to where the cafe's attendent is slowly cleaning out a teacup. She looks bored. (if: $CorSlave is true and $CorStat is 5)[This would mean leaving Corinth behind, almost certainly dooming her to eventual slavery. [["Okay, I can do that."->SmugKey4]] [["That's it?"->SmugKey4]]

The backroom is not large, primarily reserved for the storage of the cafe's various supplies, but against the far wall there is something unexpected-- a pair of wardrobe devices. They appear a bit... bootleg, mounted on a rolling cart and being smaller then the official ones you've used thus far. Beside them are a series of crates, in differing shapes and sizes. Your guiding attendant ignores them completely however, instead moving towards an otherwise nondescript wall. When she presses upon one of the durasteel bricks, however, it shifts-- revealing a hidden door, and a tunnel burrowed into it. Producing a keycard, she offers it to you. "Go down the hallway, fourth door-- only one on your right. The others won't open, so don't try it." [[Take the card. "Understood."->SmugKey7]] [["What about after that?"->SmugKey7A]]

You step into the secret tunnel, only to see the attendant turn back your way. "Hey-- and good luck. You'll need it." And with that she closes the hidden wall, leaving you in darkness. The gloom reveals small lights set along the floor, providing you with an obvious path forward, but you still need to watch your footing-- the ground is uneven. One, two, three, you count the doors passed on your left as instructed, until finally coming to another door-- this one on your right. Placing your hand against (if: $Sec is true or $Textile is true)[you feel it to be a bit chilled by the night air undoubtedly just beyond.](else:)[you feel it to be a bit chilled even through your laminate glove, the undoubtedly from the night air just beyond.] It's almost midnight, and you're too far along to turn back now. [[Throw the door open, ready for anything.->SmugThrowDoor]] [[Gently slide it open, take a peek.->SmugPeek]]

The attendant steps forward, pressing the keycard into your hand. "You'll be outside, in the space between this terminal and the Way Up's international zone. Look for the red door. Get past that, and you're all gloss." She gestures for you to leave. "Now-- go, I need to get back up front in the Cafe." [[You step towards the door.->SmugKey7]]

Taking Anastasia's suggestion that this entire attempt could quickly devolve into a footrace, you against Truant Agents with your freedom on the line, you throw the door open-- ready for anything. The darkness of the tunnel meets the quiet dark of the garden beyond, carefully sculpted bushes arranged around a fountain from your point of view, but the sound of the door-- or perhaps your hurried movement-- seems to have drawn immediate attention. A spotlight suddenly ignites, hellishly bright in comparison, from the rooftop of the Terminal you now stand ready to exit. Still-- you see your goal in the distance, a door that would have been too dark to make out had it not been for the red light blinking above it. You're so close-- and the way is remarkably clear, an empty expanse of grass before you. [[Try to sneak along the edge of the open area.->SmugSneak]] [[Run for it-- that spotlight will see you eventually!->SmugRun]]

Carefully, mindful of every possible squeak from the archaic sort of hinged door, you work it open. The darkness of the tunnel meets the quiet dark of the garden beyond, carefully sculpted bushes arranged around a fountain from your point of view. Oddly, there are no signs of guards-- the way across is nothing more then a broad expanse of grass. Still-- you see your goal in the distance, a door that would have been too dark to make out had it not been for the red light blinking above it. You're so close! [[They will see you anyway, run for it!->SmugRun]] [[Try to sneak along the edge of the open area.->SmugSneak]]

Cautiously you edge along the side of the grassy plain, a choice that proves well considered when you notice several small metallic *things* gleaming in the grass just before the door you had exited. Mines of some sort? Either way you avoid them, but about halfway across another peril befalls you-- a searchlight arcing across the grass, then along the wall you're moving across. It will reach you any moment. Staying along the wall is safer, but will expose you-- even running will not escape that rapidly approaching light. Otherwise you could break out across the grass, watching as best you can for mines. [[Stay along the wall!->SmugSneak2]] [[Risk the grass!->SmugRun2]]

Breaking from the doorway, you make for the door as fast as you can manage. Your third step reveals how little speed would matter, however, when several small devices jump up suddenly from the grass. *Motion-activated mines* your mind identifies, moments before they discharge in a flash of blinding light. It takes your eyes a good minute to regain vision, but by then you already know you're in trouble. You had fallen, unable to get up-- the *why* explained when you can finally look down, revealing the thick laminate straps that have wrapped around your body. A flash of light, binding straps being launched in all directions? You've fallen into a typical Torean security device, and already you can hear voices approaching as a spotlight upon the Terminal circles your fallen form in a halo of bright light. [[Struggle!->SmugRunFail]] [[Lay still, accept your fate.->SmugRunFail]]

The Torean smuggler gives a crooked smile. "There is a prisoner being held here, at this very Terminal, who happens to be stuck in a peculiar situation-- they believe her to be a runaway slave, but she has thus far refused to provide her identity. Normally this would not be an issue, the Ministry of Truants can be quite patient, but the crux is in how she was detained: attempting to sneak from the international zone *into* Aekora, and thus Torean jurisdiction. The treaties between the Ringdoms and the international zone are quite clear that anyone in such a position must be returned to their point of origin-- thus this detainee will be returned to the international zone." Anastasia rubs her hands together, her smile widening. "But I want her to stay here, in Torei. So we will make a swap, putting you in the prisoner's cell. She's gagged and in a full suit, the Officers won't be able to tell the difference-- until they escort you into the international zone, and thus *your* freedom. I will, meanwhile, retain this mystery prisoner." [["The Ministry won't just let you make a switch like that."->SmugSpecial3]] [["How would you manage the swap?"->SmugSpecial3]]

"As I've mentioned, the Truant Officers here are *mine*. Or most of them are. Such as the one who works nights in the detainment cells, here at the border. Officer Valroux would not be particularly pleased if I were to spring this on her tonight, but she would comply." (if: $Wanted is 2)[This sounds *exactly* like the sort of thing Officer Nikaido wanted you to seek out! If you can find a public comm unit you're certain she would be very interested in this report, either regarding Anastasia or Officer Valroux-- or both! (set: $NarcAna to true)(set: $NarcOfficer to true)] Anastasia eyes you with interest. "So? If you do wish to pursue this, I would make the swap immediately. So if you have anything else you wish to do on this side of the border, I would do it now. But you can't beat free, right?" (if: $CorSlave is true and $CorStat is 5)[Leaving this way would mean leaving Corinth behind, almost certainly dooming her to eventual slavery.] (if: $CorSlave is true)[[[Ask about Corinth. "What if I need to get a second person across too?->SmugSpecialCor]]] [["Do you know who this mystery woman is?"->SmugSpecialWho]] [["What are you going to do with this mystery woman?"->SmugSpecialWhat]] [["The Officers really won't notice?"->SmugSpecialReally]] [["Okay-- I'm ready, I'll take you up on this offer."->SmugSpecial4]] [["Right, let me think about this."->CustomSmug]]

"Well, that unfortunately would not be possible," the smuggler explains. "There is only the one detainee, you must understand. If you have a second prospective traveller, perhaps we should discuss my other options? They will cost a bit, of course, but I could provide expanded services with those. [[Well, it was worth a try.->SmugSpecial3]]

Anastasia's brows rise slightly. "I... have an idea, at the very least. But that is hardly relevent to your situation, is it? Simply consider it your good luck that she is present, and we can utilize her in this manner. Normally my services are rather expensive, after all. This is an exceptional offer." [[Clearly she isn't going to explain further.->SmugSpecial3]]

"Hm... let us simply say that I would have a vested interest in this particular woman remaining with us, in the full slavery she is most probably accustomed to, mind you. Is that not a fair trade? Your freedom, for hers? Why should *she* be granted escape merely because of a quirk of treaty laws?" Anastasia nods, as if she had convinced herself. "Better it be you, for everyone involved." [[A life for a life, so to speak.->SmugSpecial3]]

"I doubt it," Anastasia shrugs. "The girl has been there for a few weeks now, the law allows for a two month holding period, but that is now ending. So they will have grown accustomed to her, and with you wearing the identical uniform that I've assembled? You need only wait out the remaining time." [["I see."->SmugSpecial3]]

Anastasia's eyes flash, and with a sharp movement she drinks the rest of her tea. "That's just what I wanted to hear. Let us get to it, then." Rising, the black-suited smuggler gestures for you to follow across the small cafe. Approaching the counter, the attendant rushes to lift the portion that allowed access behind-- clearly a subordinate of some sort. Opening the door that led to the cafe's backroom, she never even glances back before entering. In her wake you hesitate, until the attendant gestures for you to proceed. [[You're committed now.->SmugSpecial5]]

It takes some time for the Truant Officers that find you to extricate you from your predicaments, but they manage, eventually securing your hands behind your back as they march you back towards the Terminal. Arrested in the act of an attempted illegal border crossing, you're informed of the gravity of your situation-- and the fact that it will take some time before your trial. Until then, you will be a guest of the Ministry of Truants. Despite it all, freedom retreats much like the glimmering Way Up behind you, so close yet now eternally out of reach. This will earn you a collar, certainly, and who could tell what would happen then? You're truly lost in laminate now. [[Time passes...->SmugRunTrial]]

You break into a sprint, one hand skating along the wall. As expected the spotlight lands upon you rather quickly, momentarily overshooting before coming back to you-- perhaps surprised to have found someone. Alarms in the distance announce you've been discovered, but you're already three quarters of the way to the door, and making good time... ...until gunshot like pops precede canisters falling around you. From them a thick pink smoke emerges, quickly filling a garden courtyard you now realize was perfectly designed for such a trap. (if: $Slave is true)[Luckily, for perhaps the first time since donning your slave suit it proves beneficial-- you're masked, every breath strictly regulated, and *completely immune* to the whatever toxin was spilling forth.](else:)[You try to hold your breath, but running requires oxygen, and you're forced eventually to inhale-- just as you reach the door.] (if: $Slave is true)[[[Keep running!->SlaveEscape]]](else:)[[[You reach for the keycard...->SmugRun3]]

You break from the wall, eyes firmly upon the ground as you try to dance around the metallic triggers sticking up from the grass. It proves easier then you expected in fact, as they reflect the searchlight still running quickly along the wall. But they're not the only waiting trap. Stepping carefully around a trigger, your (if: $Textile is true)[foot](else:)[heeled boot] hits the grass-- and keeps going down. You stumble, trying to find your footing, only for your other leg to begin sliding into a similar trap. Quickly you sink down to the meeting of your thighs(if: $Slave is true or $Plugs is true)[, your plugs driven sharply into your holes from the impact ](if: $Servant is true)[, your pierced clit announcing its presence with a shot of pleasure through your nerves as you impact ], struggling to free yourself. Perhaps the Torean-style pitfall traps have sensors, perhaps you're unlucky-- either way the spotlight arcs suddenly into position over, providing a halo of stark light as voices can be heard in the distance... [[Struggle!->SmugRunFail]] [[Lay still, accept your fate.->SmugRunFail]]

You cover the last couple feet barely able to breathe, the mask keeping you from falling to prety to the gas all around still very much regulating your breathing-- by the time you're pressing the card against the door's terminal you can barely focus. Yet it opens, allowing you to burst inside, slamming the door behind you as a few pink whisps quickly dissipate. You're greeted with a good hundred or so tourists and offworlders gawking at your laminated form, the intensive bondage of your slave suit very different from most of their textiles. Before you're forced to explain, however, several uniform Officers push through the crowd-- although thankfully they're not of the Truant variety. (set: $Ending to 4) [[They take you aside.->SlaveEscape2]]

Quickly you pull forth the keycard, positioning it upon the reader... and then simply drop it. *What?* You look down to find your hand trembling. Had it always been so hot out here? It certainly is now. And your legs are growing weak, enough to stumble, leaning against the door you should be opening. Slowly you slide down, now breathing deeply, panting even, as your hands seem to work of their own accord--- one finding your own breast, the other sliding down between your legs. Before you one of the canisters burns out, the pink mist now filling the courtyard. Just what was in that? And why... why was it making you so **aroused?** You cannot help yourself, in fact, as you begin fiercly rubbing between your own legs. (if: $Textile is true)[Your linen clothes do not prove particularly well-suited to this, but still you persist.](else:)[Your laminate glides between your own fingers, your cunt burning with sudden hunger.] Minutes later Truant Officers arrive to find you masturbating, moaning wetly, a victim of strong aphrodesiacs. [[Maybe they'll help you cum?->SmugRunFail]]

There are more men in the room you're eventually led to then you've seen all day, and between them they explain your situation. In short? You're free. Already the Ministry of Truants is arguing for your extradition, but the international zone is careful to protect its own rights, and here that helps you immensely. Everything else bleeds into the backround as you wrestle with that, though: you're *free*. You've made it! Despite everything Torei has thrown at you, from the hotel to the streets to the club, you've come out on the other side-- encased in glossy laminate, but *free.* "Excuse me, Miss," one of the men intercedes, concern on his face. "You're free to go, but we do have some clothes here we can offer you. Instead of... *that.*" He meant your slave suit, of course. [["Thank you, I would appreciate that."->SlaveEscapeClothes]] [["Actually... no, I'll keep my suit."->SlaveEscapeSuit]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/l6MJckM.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> (set: $Textile to true)(set: $Slave to false) The outfit they eventually provide is not particularly flashy, but it is about as far from your laminate uniform as could be managed. Freed from so much glossy material, you return to a state of dignity, the Officers leading you out and releasing you to your promised ticket and the Way Up. You're no longer lost in laminate. [[And the Way Up looms...->SlaveEscapeEnd]]

Your answer seems to stun the collected security Officers, standing as they are in a circle around you. Several are very clearly trying to not stare at your laminated form, so tightly sealed, corseted and masked. Yet they hardly seem ready to argue the point either, your liberty here at least still very much maintained-- even if you chose not to seek *dignity.* Leading you out to the international concourse, the final Officer gestures that you're truly free to go-- and the Way Up looms above. [[Be on your way...->SlaveEscapeEnd]] [[Give him a parting reverence. "Thank you, sir."->SlaveEscapeRev]]

Despite having awoken tied to your own rented bed, without a credit to your name, you've made it. You're free, beyond the grasping shackles of Torean society, it's strange culture and restraints. (if: $Slave is true)[(Even if you've retained the uniform.) ]Perhaps it was careful planning that had led you to attempt that run in the most restrictive and less likely of outfits, perhaps it had been blind luck-- either way, you ran for it and escaped, a fate few others could claim. Most would not have not had the guts, but you're **free**, and the galaxy awaits... [[You make your way towards the space elevator.->GoodEnding]]

You may be beyond Torei's reach, but you find its strictures having grown on you. They feel... *right.* Bowing to the security officer you thrust out your hips, demonstrating your femininity and submission for all to see. When you raise your masked head you find him blushing fiercely, looking away, but you hardly need his acceptance-- that you had submitted would need to be enough. Stepping away, your high heeled boots snap upon the tiled floor with each step. [[Good girl.->SlaveEscapeEnd]]

With a last hesitant look towards the attendent, you step into the makeshift Wardrobe-- and it responds as you had perhaps expected, with a plethora of arms. Seizing hold of you they begin the systematic removal of your current oufit, but abstain from the (perhaps expensive) solvents used by other machines. Instead your laminate is simply cut off, the sensation of sharp shears running so near your skin quite disconcerting. Yet it achieves its goal without cutting you, leaving you momentarily stripped to your bare skin. Above you the halo-like device that mounted the printing armatures descends, and your new gear is built in place upon you. It starts with a Torean classic, the catsuit, this one covering your head but leaving holes at eyes, nose, and mouth-- and being utterly transparent. Atop it a second layer, this one white, is added to your head and torso. At your hips it runs down between your legs, adding a second zipper over your womanhood, but the cut is flared so as to expose more of your hips. Then your arms are forced to cross beneath your chest, heavy laminate bands securing them there-- and forming a straitjacket that would make you utterly helpless. Accessories follow in the form of black ballet boots, ensuring you could hardly walk much less run, a hobble chain between your ankles as if to further that proposition, and a thick black collar at your throat. Only as an afterthought does it seem to add a pair of laminate pieces to your dual-layered hood, one sliding a laminate ring behind your teeth, forcing your mouth into an 'O', before covering your lips, the second clearly intended to serve as a blindfold-- although this hangs loosely to the side of your head for the time being. Most of the arms retreat afterward, but one remains to stencil a final pair of labels upon your straitjacket: above your left breast the cryptic **#R55**, and on your back in especially bold letters: **Slave Detainee** **Ministry of Truants** [[And with that, you are released...->SmugSpecial7]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/qS3FRyD.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> Anastasia waits without as you emerge, taking careful, measured steps upon your new heels as the hobble limits your range severely. With your arms bound you're incapable of fending her off as she approaches sharply, a hand upon your shoulder guiding you in a short half-circle turn. "Very good, very good, the facsimile appears quite successful... excepting two more accesories." Her own boot slides between yours, tapping lightly on the interior of your left foot. "Bend over, now. Legs spread, as far as the hobble will allow." [["MMmmgh?"->SmugSpecial8A]] [[Look to her, confused.->SmugSpecial8A]] [[Bend over, spread your legs.->SmugSpecial8]]

Anastasia sighs. "Did you think this would merely require dressing the part? The Truant Officers certainly won't go easy on you, they will think you a slave." She takes advantage of your bondage to prove her point, seizing you from behind with one arm around your waist before she kicks out your legs-- forcing them as far apart as the hobble would allow. She follows that with a hand at the back of your collared throat, pushing you down, bending you over. "Was that so hard?" [["Mmmmh..."->SmugSpecial8]] [[Endure quietly.->SmugSpecial8]]

Having taken the commanded position, Anastasia gives an approving nod, stepping up behind you. "Good girl. Now... let's open you up and get these installed." Just what that meant is revealed by the sensation of her hand between your legs, nimble fingers landing upon the zipper of your leotard-like straitjacket. Pulling it open she repeats the process with your catsuit, revealing your womanhood. Defenseless and exposed, there is little you can do in self-defense as she slides a pair of thin laminate devices into your holes, front and rear. Afterward she zips you back up, but a pair of tubes now hang between your legs, each ending in a small laminate ball. You're hardly given a chance to acclimate to the sense of being filled before Anastasia reaches between your legs again, pumping one of the balls several times. Within your cunt you feel the narrow dildo there begin to expand, inflating with each squeeze of the smuggler's palm. [["Mmmmmghhh!"->SmugSpecial9]] [["Mmmmgh..."->SmugSpecial9]]

"Oh, you like that, don't you?" Anastasia laughs, withdrawing her hand. "Of course you do." Crossing the room, she approaches an empty space of wall, then presses her hand against one of the bricks there-- revealing a hidden door that unfolds itself, a tunnel leading into darkness. Stepping in, Anastasia again doesn't look back. "Come on now, R55." [[It's not like you have a choice.->SmugSpecial10]]

The smuggler's door closes behind you, momentarily casting the tunnel into darkness-- until your eyes adjust to the gloom, revealing small lights set into the floor. Anastasia is already walking ahead and you struggle to catch up, wary of tripping in your heels without arms to catch yourself. Passing one door, and then another, she eventually comes to a stop at the third on your left-- although you see one more further up, to the right. What lay beyond *that* portal you'll never know, as Anastasia instead opens the one before you. A Truant Officer nearly jumps out of her uniform in response to your sudden entrance, but calms upon seeing Anastasia-- only to startle again when her eyes land upon you. "You didn't even warn me!" She complains, a hand at her chest. Anastasia is unimpressed. "This proved to be a quickly developing opportunity. Now-- open the cage for me, will you Valroux?" The cage in question is just behind her, rather large and all but empty, except for a familiar looking woman in white laminate... <img src="https://i.imgur.com/61HlMB3.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> [[Your uniforms are identical.->SmugSpecial11]]

The other slave turns to regard the newcomers, her eyes widening as they settle upon Anastasia-- and then even further as they find you. "Hello again, Sister," Anastasia greets, your inability to speak preventing any attempt at clarifying just what *that* meant. Either way, the actual switch is thus easily accomplished-- the mystery slave is led out on a leash, clearly trying to speak through her gag, while you are in turn led into the cage, where Officer Valroux locks it behind you. Anastasia is already making for her tunnel, slave in tow, without even biding you goodbye. Valroux watches her go, waiting for the tunnel entrance to seal-- blending in with the wall in the same manner you had observed earlier-- before turning to you. "Look-- I don't know who you are, and I don't really care. Detainees are inspected at dawn and dusk, each day. Feedings at noon. Don't screw this up-- just keep quiet, be the submissive slave everyone expects you to be. Got it?" [[It's not like you can respond.->SmugSpecial12]]

Time passes slowly in your cage. You stand, you kneel, you pace-- until the morning inspection comes. Two Officers enter, one directing you to face the cage, while the other runs her hands down your suit. They check your locks, your buckles, your straitjacket, and most annoyingly your inflatable plugs. Several squeezes later, the phallic intruders bulging within you, they withdraw-- but not before securing your blindfold in place across your eyes. "Gotta watch Valroux," one Officer tells the other, as they retreat. "She's getting soft. Protocol demands R55 be kept gagged and blindfolded, unless being transported-- so make sure it gets done with every inspection." The other Officer doesn't reply, perhaps nodding although your blindfold denies you that fact. With a final squeeze of your inflatable they retreat, leaving you to your cage. <img src="https://i.imgur.com/XBuGJ0M.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> (set: $Ending to 5) [[You settle down to wait.->SmugSpecial13]]

Without eyes to see, you have only the schedule Valroux had given you to guess at the time. Occasionally guards can be heard changing shifts in the room beyond your cell, but your hood leaves them slightly muffled, details are hard to make out. When you hear footsteps directly outside the bars, however, you know *something* is up. "On your knees, slave," what must be an Officer commands. "Hurry up, if you want to get fed." *Food!* You cannot remember the last time you ate, sometime before waking up tied to that bed you imagine. [[Kneel.->SmugFood1]] [[Ignore the voice.->SmugFoodFail]]

(if: $TruantStat is 3)[Elizabeth snorts. "Of course you do. Good deeds never go unpunished on Torei. "What's the situation?" You tell her of your day thus far, and its myriad travels. She listens, a bit begrudgingly, but intently. As you conclude she nods, immediately jumping into action. "Well, you already know that the Liberty Society doesn't just advocate and protest. We *act*. And yeah, I paid you fairly for helping before, but we don't just abandon those who assist us in our struggle. You need a way past the checkpoint? I can't promise it will be comfortable, and you won't make it out *tonight*, but I can get you to the Way Up. You remember how Amadori was rigged up?"](if: $TruantStat is 2)[Janeck's eyebrows fall, her already flinty eyes hardening. "Tough shit, that. I'm willing to hear you out, that's why we're talking, but I'm not about to forget what you did to Elizabeth. I'm not helping *you.*"](if: $TruantStat is 0)[Janeck's eyes narrow, but her flinty eyes do not harden-- in fact its just the opposite. Beyond that gruff exterior, Janeck hid a nugget of empathy. "Explain." You tell her of your day thus far, and its myriad travels. She listens, a bit begrudgingly, but intently. As you conclude she nods, immediately jumping into action. "Have you heard of the Liberty Society before? If not, you're the luckiest woman on this planet-- because yeah, I can help you. The Society... has a partnership that allows for it." She cocks her head. "You ever heard of slave shipments?"] (if: $TruantStat is 0 or 3)[[["You mean... locked inside a crate?->ProtestHelp2]]](else:)[[[It was worth a try.->CustomProtest]]]

(if: $TruantStat is 3)[Elizabeth rubs at the bridge of her nose. She does look tired-- even the laminate of her simple dress is a bit scuffed looking, a far cry (if: $Textile is true)[the laminates you're so accustomed to.](else:)[the laminate of your own outfit.] "Things have grown... more difficult, lately. The Liberty Society does good work, and we know it is not easy, Torei being what it is... but somedays it feels like a pair of cuffs, tightening bit by bit." She rouses a bit however, placing her hands on her hips. "Still-- your help with Amadori is much appreciated. Had you not taken it upon yourself to act as you did, I would certainly still be stuck in the outskirts, instead of here-- challenging these slavers face-to-face."](else:)[Janeck stands stoically, her arms crossed as if to suggest most anything that approached would disappoint her. "The Ministry of Truants have been cracking down, putting pressure on my organization. The Liberty Society is durable, but at times even we are strained." She shrugs, resolute. "(if: $TruantStat is 2)[Your little stunt in the outskirts certainly didn't help things. Elizabeth was supposed to be running this protest. But we try not to hold that against you, Torei breaks women to its lash every single day." Janeck pauses, then repeats herself. "We *try* to do that." It seems she's not going to forgive you.]We were hoping my partner, Elizabeth, would run this protest tonight. But she's still downtown, supervising... something else. So I was called in, with little time to prepare. Still-- we must persist. Breaking this planet's chains will not come overnight."] [[She's persistent, at the very least.->CustomProtest]]

(if: $TruantStat is 3)[Elizabeth glances down at her short black dress, a relatively simple design upon a planet capable of so much more. "It's about picking your battles," she explains. "Offworld textiles stand out, draw attention-- and often are enough to incite Truant Officers to bother you. If I'm *already* acting against them, openly or quietly, it makes sense to blend in as best I can."](else:)[Janeck shrugs, glancing down at her tight laminate dress. The design is simple, at least by Torean standards, but the presence of the opera-length gloves suggests a bit of accessorizing beyond the basic. "How does that Torean saying go? *No reason to throw out a good set of boots, just because they lock*? I like the style." She looks you over. (if: $Blue is true)["Your catsuit ain't half bad, by the way. Too many cuffs of course, but that's Torei for you."](if: $Smoke is true)["Can't really believe you walk around in that catsuit, though. Laminate is one thing, but the transparent sort? No thanks."](if: $Brand is true)["You're clearly braver then me, though. Haven't tried a corset like that."](if: $Sec is true)["You're more like my partner, I think. Blending in, and the like. Can't imagine that skirt is all that fun."](if: $Slave is true)["Obviously... you're on a whole other level, with that uniform. Just... *wow.*"](if: $Servant is true)["I certainly never dress like you, though. Nowhere close. Hells."](if: $Textile is true)["I see you're going for that classic *tourist* look, huh? To each their own."]] [["I see."->CustomProtest]]

It was *your* fault, after all, that Corinth was locked inside a slave suit-- without the means of removing it. Explaining the situation to (if: $TruantStat is 3)[Elizabeth](else:)[Janeck], the Liberty Society militant considers the facts for a moment before responding. (if: $TruantStat is 3)["Look, now you're stretching it... but you helped us, I want to return the favor. So... alright. Fine. Ask me about what I can do for *you* if you want to get into the details, but in short I can offer the same service to your friend-- free of charge. If that means you both want to go you'll do so together, if not I will take her alone. How does that sound?"](if: $TruantStat is 2)["I'm *still* not helping you, but I can help your friend. It ain't going to be free, though. 250 credits usually covers it, but the Liberty Society could do with a bit more cash from you-- so let's call it 500. For that I will ensure your friend is shipped across the border, in roughly the same manner as Amadori. You can then retrieve her at your leisure. How does that sound?"] (if: $TruantStat is 0)["Look, now you're stretching it... but you helped us, I want to return the favor. So... alright. Fine. Ask me about what I can do for *you* if you want to get into the details, but in short I can offer the same service to your friend-- for 250 credits. If that means you both want to go you'll do so together at 500 credits, if not I will take her alone. I'm not running a charity here, but it's a fair deal. How does that sound?"] (if: $TruantStat is 3)[(set: $CorShipLiz to true)](else:)[(set: $CorShipJan to true)] [["Sounds good.->ProtestCor2]] [["I'll think about it.->ProtestCor2]]

(if: $TruantStat is 3)["Exactly. That's how we run slaves out of the Ringdom-- with some help from a local smuggler... who just so happens to operate out of this very Terminal. (if: $Servant is true)[And you *do* have that collar around your neck, don't you?](else:)[You're not exactly a slave... but that doesn't matter.] This will work. The whole thing only works because we keep changing the 'type' and duration of shipment though, and as I said-- it won't be easy. Being crated like that is not a fun experience. But I can help you do it, if that's truly what you want. Free of charge, for helping with Amadori." She makes a sound, something like a sour laugh. "Did you ever expect you might be in a crate just like Amadori when you found her?" (if: $Wanted is 2)[You may have helped Elizabeth before, but this sounds *exactly* like the sort of thing Officer Nikaido wanted you to seek out! If you can find a public comm unit you're certain she would be very interested in this report! (set: $NarcLiz to true)] [["Okay, let's do this."->ProtestHelpLiz]] [["I need to think about this.->CustomProtest]]](else:)["Exactly. That's how we run slaves out of the Ringdom-- with some help from a local smuggler... who just so happens to operate out of this very Terminal. (if: $Servant is true)[And you *do* have that collar around your neck, don't you?](else:)[You're not exactly a slave... but that doesn't matter.] This will work. The whole thing only works because we keep changing the 'type' and duration of shipment though, so it's rarely a fun experience. But it will get you to the Way Up." Janeck crosses her arms. "It won't be free, though. We need to cover costs. Working with the damn smuggler isn't cheap. I'll need 250 credits for this." (if: $Wanted is 2)[This sounds *exactly* like the sort of thing Officer Nikaido wanted you to seek out! If you can find a public comm unit you're certain she would be very interested in this report! (set: $NarcJan to true)] (if: $debt is > 249)[[["Great, I'll do it."->ProtestHelpJan]]](else:)[You don't have enough credits for this service.] [["Let me think about it.->CustomProtest]]]

Elizabeth nods, but holds a hand up, to slow you down. "If that's what you want, we can do it, but we must act immediately. That means you should make sure you've done everything you want, on this side of the border. You won't be coming back." (if: $CorSlave is true and $CorStat is 5)[This would mean leaving Corinth behind, almost certainly dooming her to eventual slavery.] [["I'm ready, I want to do this.->ProtestHelpLiz2]]

Janeck nods, but holds a hand up, to slow you down. "If that's what you want, we can do it, but we must act immediately. That means you should make sure you've done everything you want, on this side of the border. You won't be coming back." (if: $CorSlave is true and $CorStat is 5)[This would mean leaving Corinth behind, almost certainly dooming her to eventual slavery.] [["I'm ready, I want to do this.->ProtestHelpJan2]]

Elizabeth clasps her hands together. "Eager, huh? I don't blame you. Follow me, we just need to go upstairs." She takes the lead, blazing a path through the milling crowds. Instead of dancing around groups moving slower Elizabeth simply shoves through them, leaving several angry tourists in your wake-- but you do make good time. Crossing the Terminal you ascend the stairs to the second level together, then pivot towards a mostly empty cafe. (if: $SmugGreet is true)[You've been here recently, speaking to Anastasia, and it's towards she that Elizabeth aims.](else:)[A woman in a stark black catsuit sits alone at the cafe's center, sipping quietly from a cup of tea-- and it's towards she that Elizabeth aims.] The cooperative ally that had been mentioned. Or, less politely: smuggler. Waving for you to stay back, Elizabeth speaks in a hushed tone, indicating you once-- then twice, the second time more aggressively. For a moment it seems the discussion is going against you, but in the end they come to some manner of understanding, a firm handshake sealing the deal. Afterward Elizabeth returns to you. "You're good to go. Tell the attendant at the counter there you want 'the slave's special', and she will take you for preparation." Her hand extends, a very offworlder means of saying goodbye. "Good luck." (set: $Ending to 6) [[Shake her hand. "Thank you."->ProtestHelpLizShake]] [[You're still on Torei. Give her a parting reverence.->ProtestHelpLizRev]]

Janeck clasps her hands together. "250 credits, then?" You offer your ID, which she presses to her *glass, confirming the transaction. "Good. Follow me, we just need to go upstairs." She takes the lead, blazing a path through the milling crowds. Instead of dancing around groups moving slower Janeck simply shoves through them, leaving several angry tourists in your wake-- but you do make good time. Crossing the Terminal you ascend the stairs to the second level together, then pivot towards a mostly empty cafe. (if: $SmugGreet is true)[You've been here recently, speaking to Anastasia, and it's towards she that Janeck aims.](else:)[A woman in a stark black catsuit sits alone at the cafe's center, sipping quietly from a cup of tea-- and it's towards she that Janeck aims.] The cooperative ally that had been mentioned. Or, less politely: smuggler. Waving for you to stay back, Janeck speaks in a hushed tone, indicating you once-- then twice, the second time more aggressively. For a moment it seems the discussion is going against you, but in the end they come to some manner of understanding, a firm handshake sealing the deal. Afterward Janeck returns to you. "It's done. Tell the attendant at the counter there you want 'the slave's special', and she will take you for preparation." Her hand extends, a very offworlder means of saying goodbye. "Good luck." (set: $Ending to 7) [[Shake her hand. "Thank you."->ProtestHelpJanShake]] [[You're still on Torei. Give her a parting reverence.->ProtestHelpJanRev]]

Your hands clasp together, (if: $Textile is true or $Sec is true)[bare flesh to bare flesh,](else:)[bare flesh to laminate,] unable to say more. How could you? On Torei, one's own freedom and liberty were the most valuable things a woman could have-- and yours had been deeply endangered. But now? A narrow path leads down from that jagged cliff of enslavement. Stepping back, you turn to the cafe's counter, approaching the attendant who clearly does not grasp the gravity of the situation from your perspective-- she almost looks bored. "What will it be, ma'am?" The attendant asks. [["The... slave's special?"->SmugShip5]]

Torei's influence compels you, that deep-seated desire to *submit* that drove so much of the planet's culture. Elizabeth was helping you, words alone would not suffice-- and thus one final reverence. On Torei, one's own freedom and liberty were the most valuable things a woman could have-- and yours had been deeply endangered. But now? A narrow path leads down from that jagged cliff of enslavement. All thanks to her. Elizabeth merely shakes her head. "Maybe you belong *here*?" It's too late for that now, though. Stepping back, you turn to the cafe's counter, approaching the attendant who clearly does not grasp the gravity of the situation from your perspective-- she almost looks bored. "What will it be, ma'am?" The attendant asks. [["The... slave's special?"->SmugShip5]]

Torei's influence compels you, that deep-seated desire to *submit* that drove so much of the planet's culture. Janeck was helping you, words alone would not suffice-- and thus one final reverence. On Torei, one's own freedom and liberty were the most valuable things a woman could have-- and yours had been deeply endangered. But now? A narrow path leads down from that jagged cliff of enslavement. All thanks to her. Janeck merely shakes her head. "Maybe you belong *here*?" It's too late for that now, though. Stepping back, you turn to the cafe's counter, approaching the attendant who clearly does not grasp the gravity of the situation from your perspective-- she almost looks bored. "What will it be, ma'am?" The attendant asks. [["The... slave's special?"->SmugShip5]]

The woman nods. "No rush, I have all night." *Discussing your options with Corinth may be a good idea.* [[You consider your options.->CustomProtest]]

"A place of decorum, foremost," the woman replies evenly. Her gloved hand taps the stonework of the small reflecting pool beside her. "Come, rest yourself." [[Take the offered seat.->AcadGreetSeat]] [[You don't like this. Leave!->CustomHub]]

You take to your knees beside her, her placid expression shifting into a slight smile. "That's much better, isn't it?" Her hand still moves within the pool, the ripples still existant but now unseen. "What brings you to me, at this hour?" [["I was... curious, what is this place?"->AcadGreet3]] [["I'm just exploring, I guess."->AcadGreet3]] [["I'm trying to find a way across the border..."->AcadGreet3]]

The woman eyes you calmly. "(if: $Servant is true)[I very much doubt that, slave. Even if you did not have that collar around your neck, your uniform speaks to your purpose. Flirtatious, without dignity. A pretty little thing for the pleasure of your betters, I suspect." Her tone remains even, collected. "Show me your ID." You do, and there she finds SLAVE stamped all so clearly upon it. "A poor first impression," she notes, returning it to you. "A slave with a false tongue. But I will not have you removed, not if you demonstrate you understand your place." The toe of her heeled shoe taps the ground beside her, *click-click*. "On your knees."](if: $Slave is true)[I very much doubt that, slave. Even if the laws regarding such a uniform were not clear, the way you wear it would speak to your purpose. The subtle shifting of your hips, the way you walk-- you're wet, aroused from the simple act of being so restrained. A faceless little thing for the pleasure of your betters, I suspect." Her tone remains even, collected. "Show me your ID." You do, and there she finds FREEWOMB stamped all so clearly upon it. "Interesting-- how did you end up in such a state? Curiosity abounds. Yet decorum remains, and you are under the Slave Codes. I will not have you removed, not if you demonstrate you understand your place." The toe of her heeled shoe taps the ground beside her, *click-click*. "On your knees."] [[You will not take this-- leave!->CustomHub]] [[You move to your knees, a proper slave.->AcadGreetKneel]]

You take the offered seat, seated beside her on the lip of the pool. Within her hand still distrubs the watter, ripples spreading in all directions. "What brings you to me, at this hour?" [["I was... curious, what is this place?"->AcadGreet3]] [["I'm just exploring, I guess."->AcadGreet3]] [["I'm trying to find a way across the border..."->AcadGreet3]]

Hunger drives you from your siting position to your knees, blindness and straitjacket making it a bit of an effort. Still, you must manage a pleasing response as you hear the cell door open. The Officer approaches, unhooking your gag panel and then pulling it out, allowing it to hand from the side of your head. Your ring gag remains however, drool now free to drip lewdly down upon your chest. "Alright," the Officer continues. "You have two minutes." [[Just what did that mean?->SmugFood2]]

Your refusal is met with a sigh from the Officer, but she does proceed to replace your panel gag-- once more rendering your head into an unbroken shell of white laminate. "Fine, be that way." She growls. "You'll have to eat eventually." Had the other prisoner not been eating? If so, you had maintained what little dignity you could in this situation, but it does leave you feeling distinctly hungry-- the pang in your stomach only growing as the Officer stalks away, closing your cage afterward. [[You're alone again.->SmugWalk]]

A hand settles on your laminate hooded head, followed by something at your lips-- passing quickly into your mouth, slotting perfectly within the ring you cannot dislodge. Deeper and deeper it goes, filling your mouth as it then threatens your throat, serious effort required to keep from gagging on the laminate dildo. Your confusion seems to be interpreted by the Officer as hesitation, resulting in a sigh. "Well come on now, suck it down, slut. 90 seconds left, I'm watching the clock." *Suck it down?* [[You're not doing anything like that!->SmugFoodFail2]] [[Try sucking on the cock.->SmugFood3]]

Your refusal is met with a sigh from the Officer, but she does slide the cock out from between your lips. Wiping the excess spit hanging from it on your cheek, she proceeds to replace your panel gag-- once more rendering your head into an unbroken shell of white laminate. "Fine, be that way." She growls. "You'll have to eat eventually." Had the other prisoner not been eating? If so, you had maintained what little dignity you could in this situation, but it does leave you feeling distinctly hungry-- the pang in your stomach only growing as the Officer stalks away, closing your cage afterward. [[You're alone again.->SmugWalk]]

Unable to close your lips, your mouth and throat does much of the work, experimenting carefully with a suckling the phallic object rammed down your throat-- and immediately you're rewarded with the member discharging, most of it dumping straight down your throat but some lands on the back of your tongue. It tastes... rather horrid, but already your stomach seems to be responding, begging for the nutrients. "One minute of slave slurry left," counts the Officer. [[Food! Suck hard!->SmugFoodHard]] [[Suck, but carefully.->SmugFoodMed]] [[Absolutely not! Pull back!->SmugFoodFail2]]

You choose a frantic pace, sucking greedily on the offered cock, even moving your head back and forth to further the effort. The phallic imposter responds in kind, warm streams of slurry erupting from its tip to run down your throat. In the end you manage to fill yourself quite contentedly, and are going for even more when the dildo is suddenly slid back out from your lips. Your efforts had caused some of the slurry to build up, and now it runs down your chin, joining the drool on your chest in a truly wanton display of lust. "Thank gods you started eating," the Officer notes, sounding quite surprised, "but you sure were eager for a little cock, huh?" Your tongue emerges from the ring gag, having worked up a panting sweat. Had the mystery prisoner been refusing to eat? You've certainly set a different, far less dignified tone. Not that you're given the opportunity to ask as the panel covering your lips is suddenly pulled tight, then locked in place. The Officer leaves you there, drool and slurry on your chest, but at least quite full. [[Worth it.->SmugWalk]]

You choose a measured pace, sucking shamefully on the cock thrust into your mouth, but maintaining as much dignity as you could muster in such a situation. It allows you to suck down enough of the slave food to satiate yourself, but only barely-- hunger pangs still rumbling your stomach as the intruder is slid suddenly from your mouth. "You actually ate," the Officer comments, surrounding both surprised and pleased. "*Finally*." Had the mysterious prisoner you've replaced been refusing? You're not given the opportunity to ask as the panel covering your lips is suddenly pulled tight, then locked in place. The Officer leaves you there, drool on your chest, but at least a bit less hungry now. [[Worth it.->SmugWalk]]

You know the pattern now, and soon fall into a monotonous grind of working through the paces. Inspections at dawn and dusk, your feedings at noon. Otherwise the Officers leave you alone in the darkness of your blindfold, except to occasionally squeeze your plugs. Only Valroux occasionally allows you to go without your blindfold, but those periods allow you little more then a vista of steel bars and brick walls. Days pass, one by one, until *finally* the schedule is broken. They come for you in the morning, just after your first inspection. "Get her up," an Officer commands, booted feet approaching to lift you. Once there the blindfold is removed, hanging from your mask against your cheek as you gaze at three Officers-- one to each side, the other standing before you. "I still have no idea why you were trying to cross the border the way you did, and if I could I'd send you to a tight little cell at the Ministry-- but the treaties with the Offworlders require we return you. So we will." She snaps a leash to your collar, then tugs it harshly. "Follow." [[You don't have a choice.->SmugWalk2]]

The Officers still flank you to each side as you're marched from the cage you've spent the last several days in. Still in your ballet boots, still hobbled, you need to be careful on the stairs, but you manage as best you can. Exiting what must be the local Truant Officer's barracks, you emerge back into the Aekoran Customs Enclave-- your escort and uniform immediately drawing stairs. In fact your forced march becomes something of an event, so many tourists being treated to their first *true* Torean experience as you make your way to the checkpoint. If at once time you would have been denied passage, now you're allowed through with nary a hesitation, Anastasia's tale of your being returned to the international zone clearly coming true. Waiting for you on the far side are a set of international zone security officers, their lack of laminate and mostly male genders marking them as decidedly non-Torean. Seeing your uniform, their leader sighs. "Is all that really necessary?" "She *deserves* a collar," the Truant Officer snaps back. "Just because we can't prove it doesn't mean we weren't going to make sure she knew her place, while back in Torei." As if to demonstrate the point, she yanks down on your leash-- hard. "Show them how much of a stupid, submissive slut you are." [[Show them. Kneel and spread your legs.->SmugWalkSub]] [[You're no longer in Torei. Deny her.->SmugWalkNo]]

Your role may be as an imposter, but the Officer has you right: you *are* a properly submissive slut. Sinking to your knees before the men, you spread your legs, revealing more prominently to them the inflators of your plugs dangling there. "See?" The Truant Officer says, gleeful to make one last point before she hands your leash to their lead man. "She would be happier here in tight bondage then with *you.*" The Security Officer sighs. "Be that as it may... let's get that hood of her, at the very least." You're on free soil, but still the prospect is alarming-- your ruse becoming clear as soon as the tight laminate is peeled from your face. The commotion is immediate, the Truant Officers demanding to know who you are just as aggressively as the Security Officers. Decorum eventually reasserts itself with the Security Officer pointing out that no matter *who* you are, you're on the international side of the border. And that meant you're free. [[Look back at the Truant Officer. "Who's stupid now?"->SmugWalkStupid]] [[Remain demurely at the side of the man holding your leash.->SmugWalkQ]]

Your role may be as an imposter, but the Officer has you wrong: she has no power over you anymore, and you demonstrate that by yanking your own neck up-- wrenching your leash free from her grip. "*Bad* mistake, who--" the Truant Officer begins, only for the Security Officer to intervene with a chuckle. "Not so fast, she's my jurisdiction now. Let's get that hood of her, poor girl." You're on free soil, but still the prospect is alarming-- your ruse becoming clear as soon as the tight laminate is peeled from your face. The commotion is immediate, the Truant Officers demanding to know who you are just as aggressively as the Security Officers. Decorum eventually reasserts itself with the Security Officer pointing out that no matter *who* you are, you're on the international side of the border. And treaty laws meant you're free. [[Look back at the Truant Officer. "Who's stupid now?"->SmugWalkStupid]] [[Remain demurely quiet as they hash it out.->SmugWalkQ]]

"Why you--" How often did a Torean woman, freewomb or slave, speak that way to an Officer of *her* rank? Her subordinates step in to hold her back, and for once you've got the last laugh as the international zone Security Officers lead you away for debriefing. There are more men in the room you're eventually led to then you've seen all day, and between them they explain your situation. In short? You're free. Already the Ministry of Truants is arguing for your re-extradition, but the international zone is careful to protect its own rights, and here that helps you immensely. Everything else bleeds into the backround as you wrestle with that, though: you're *free*. You've made it! Despite everything Torei has thrown at you, from the hotel to the streets to the club, you've come out on the other side-- encased in glossy laminate, but *free.* "Excuse me, Miss," one of the men intercedes, concern on his face. "You're free to go, but we do have some clothes here we can offer you. Instead of... *that.*" He meant your detainee suit, of course. [["Thank you, I would appreciate that."->DetEscapeClothes]] [["Actually... no, I'll keep my suit. Just undo my arms?"->DetEscapeSuit]]

"Fine, fine," the Truant Officer finally breaks from her arguing, ceding their point of jurisdiction. "But just look at her-- she'll be back, someday. And she'll probably *want* a collar by then." You gave her the last word as the Security Officers lead you away for debriefing, and she had in turn left you with something to wrestle with: did you *really* want to leave? It's too late to turn back for now, anyway. There are more men in the room you're eventually led to then you've seen all day, and between them they explain your situation. In short? You're free. Already the Ministry of Truants is arguing for your re-extradition, but the international zone is careful to protect its own rights, and here that helps you immensely. Everything else bleeds into the backround as you wrestle with that, though: you're *free*. You've made it! Despite everything Torei has thrown at you, from the hotel to the streets to the club, you've come out on the other side-- encased in glossy laminate, but *free.* "Excuse me, Miss," one of the men intercedes, concern on his face. "You're free to go, but we do have some clothes here we can offer you. Instead of... *that.*" He meant your detainee suit, of course. [["Thank you, I would appreciate that."->DetEscapeClothes]] [["Actually... no, I'll keep my suit. Just undo my arms?"->DetEscapeSuit]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/l6MJckM.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> (set: $Textile to true)(set: $Slave to false)(set: $Blue to false)(set: $Smoke to false)(set: $Brand to false)(set: $Servant to false)(set: $Sec to false) The outfit they eventually provide is not particularly flashy, but it is about as far from your laminate uniform as could be managed. Freed from so much glossy material, you return to a state of dignity, the Officers leading you out and releasing you with a complimentary new ticket for the Way Up. You're no longer lost in laminate. [[And the Way Up looms...->SmugRunEnd]]

Your answer seems to stun the collected security Officers, standing as they are in a circle around you. Several are very clearly trying to not stare at your laminated form, so tightly sealed, hooded and restrained. Yet they hardly seem ready to argue the point either, your liberty here at least still very much maintained-- even if you chose not to seek *dignity.* Freeing your arms, you're ventually lead out to the international concourse, where the final Officer gestures that you're truly free to go-- and the Way Up looms above. (set: $GEndOutfit to 1) [[Be on your way...->SmugRunEnd]] [[Give him a parting reverence. "Thank you, sir."->DetEscapeRev]]

Despite having awoken tied to your own rented bed, without a credit to your name, you've made it. You're free, beyond the grasping shackles of Torean society, it's strange culture and restraints. (if: $GEndOutfit is 1)[(Even if you've retained the uniform.) ]Perhaps several days locked inside a cage, plugged and teased, fed only the sucking of a cock was hardly an escape worth celebrating... but you've escaped Torei, a fate few others could claim. Most would not have not had the guts, but you're **free**, and the galaxy awaits... [[You make your way towards the space elevator.->GoodEnding]]

You may be beyond Torei's reach, but you find its strictures having grown on you. They feel... *right.* Bowing to the security officer you thrust out your hips, demonstrating your femininity and submission for all to see. When you raise your masked head you find him blushing fiercely, looking away, but you hardly need his acceptance-- that you had submitted would need to be enough. Stepping away, your ballet boots snap upon the tiled floor with each step. [[Good girl.->SmugRunEnd]]

(if: $Servant is true or $Slave is true)[She looks down at your kneeling form.](else:)[She looks to you, seated beside her.] "Well, let me formally welcome you to the only off-campus refuge provided by Celeste Academy, the largest training academy in Aekroa." She pulls her hand from the water, flicking her fingers to dry her red-gloved hand before collecting both hands upon her lap. "We are strategically positioned here, and staffed all night for a very particular reason-- to provide an *alternative.*" [["An alternative to what?"->AcadGreet4]] [["I'm not sure I understand...?"->AcadGreet4]]

The woman returns her gaze to yours. "As the only means of exiting Aekora into the international zone, where slavery does not exist, it is not uncommon to see those passing through who are... running out of options," she explains. "Freewombs nearing a collar, slaves on the run, tourists in fear of Ministry-- all sorts make it this far, only to see that final checkpoint, all those Truant Officers. A wall they cannot cross, not without *considerable* risk." She smiles. "Celeste Acadamy is the alternative. If the chances are high that you're about to be collared, you're already destined to enroll with us-- Celeste Academy holds an exclusive contract with the local branch of the Ministry of Truants. Convicted prisoners stripped of their freewomb status are given over to us for training, or retraining, as necessary. But *how* one gets enrolled is important. Come to us willingly, enroll *yourself*, and you can achieve a better valuation and thus placement during your time with us. Often that leads to a more comfortable sort of service upon graduation, and auction." (if: $Servant is true or $Slave is true)[You get the sense she would have greeted you more formally in that moment, had you not been dressed as you are, but she still nods your way.](else:)[She stands, bowing lightly in your direction.] "My name is Veronica. Are you interested in discussing enrollment? (set: $AcadGreet to true) [["...yes."->AcadGreet5Y]] [["No!"->AcadGreet5N]] [["I'm... not sure."->AcadGreet5NS]]

Again Veronica returns her hand to the water, new ripples forming. "I thought so. I am here to answer any questions, if you have them." Between forced slavery and that flickering promise of freedom, something else now stands between: accepting the inevitable. [[She awaits your questions-- or enrollment.->CustomAcademy]]

Again Veronica returns her hand to the water, new ripples forming. "I understand. If you change your mind, I will be here to answer any questions." Between forced slavery and that flickering promise of freedom, something else now stands between: accepting the inevitable. [[She awaits your questions-- or enrollment.->CustomAcademy]]

Again Veronica returns her hand to the water, new ripples forming. "Well, then perhaps we have more to discuss. I am here to answer any questions, if you have them." Between forced slavery and that flickering promise of freedom, something else now stands between: accepting the inevitable. [[She awaits your questions-- or enrollment.->CustomAcademy]]

"You will," Veronica states, matter-of-fact. "Enrolling with Celeste involves stripping you of prior status, and firmly submitting yourself to a life of slavery. We cannot guarantee just *what* sort of slave you will eventually become, that depends on the effort you put into your training, but you will graduate at the end to the auction block." She sounds almost proud. "Voluntary enrollments generally translate to higher valuation at the end, an important consideration. Inexpensive slaves, who often come to us from the Ministry of Truants, often end up serving in very... menial roles. Torei does need a constant supply of servant-slaves and ponygirls, however." [["Right..."->CustomAcademy]]

"Your ID, again?" Pulling up your records, Veronica pages through them slowly. "Hmm... very interesting, that collaring looks *quite* irregular. And mere hours old. Well-- our working relationship with the Ministry of Truants proves quite useful in such irregular situations. Having your current slavery invalidated should be simple enough, as long as you're enrolling with us-- the Courts would be more concerned that you remain in slavery, not the particular terms of it." [[Well that is... good news?->CustomAcademy]]

"Your ID, again?" Pulling up your records, Veronica pages through them slowly. "Hmm... no. Voluntary submission to a slave suit is rare, but it would not harm an attempt to enroll with us. In fact, it demonstrates a clear indication of submissive tendencies. That would in fact serve you quite well-- as a fully collared slave you would of course be under constant restrictions, and expectations would be that you respect your betters." Veronica adjusts her posture slightly. "As a slave, that is most everyone else." [["I have other questions."->CustomAcademy]]

Veronica has an immediate answer for that one. "We do not turn away voluntary enrollees. She would be welcomed. You both would be. Obviously we can not guarantee you would remain together if such a decision was embraced, however." (set: $CorAcad to true) An auction implied sale to the highest bidder, after all. Still-- something to discuss with Corinth, if you desired. [[I have other questions."->CustomAcademy]]

"You would be moved to our campus, in the Aekoran countryside. There, along with the other new students, you would begin your generalized slave lessons. Those persist for several weeks, during which you would be evaluated for presumptive value and your level of dependence-- a good slave can be very dependent, or independent, but it does change what we will train you in." She taps the toe of her shoe against the tiled floor, as if to mark the change to a different period of training. "After that, you will be assigned to a program specialty. Just how long that will be would vary, depending on what you specialize in. Some require several months, others *years*." [["Good... to know."->CustomAcademy]]

The Academy Spokeswoman tips her head slightly in your direction. "We have a strong working agreement with the Ministry of Truants-- most anything can be written off if you submit willingly to a collar. Thus our position here, so near the border. We remain the alternative to an unfortunate stay with the Ministry, followed by potentially low valuation for auction." The idea of being worth little seems to horrify the woman. "A terrible fate." [["Right."->CustomAcademy]]

"Celeste Academy is by *far* the largest training academy in this Ringdom, and as such our offered courses of instruction are quite broad. Servants, concubines, ponygirls, governesses, soubrettes-- I could go on. Our most expensive offerings are slaves trained to serve as picture-perfect wives to our more wealthy clients, and of course our Torean-famous dolls." [["Wife? Like... in marriage?"->AcadWife]] [["What do you mean by 'doll'?"->AcadDoll]] [["I have other questions."->CustomAcademy]]

For all her demonstrated reserve, your words now do provoke Veronica's attention to pull from the water she sat beside-- landing on you fully, as if capable of seizing you bodily. "This is not a decision to be taken lightly," she asserts, the glossy laminate of her outfit running with waves of reflected light as she leans towards you, emphasizing the point. "There is no going back, upon enrollment. To sign upon the proverbial line is final, you would be collared tonight-- and your transporation to our campus arranged on the morrow. So you must be **sure** this is what you desire." (if: $CorSlave is true and $CorStat is 5)[*Enrolling now without helping Corinth decide upon what she is to do would leave her behind.*] [["Let me... think about it."->CustomAcademy]] [["I'm sure-- I want this."->AcadEnroll2]]

"What else could I mean?" Veronica asks, eyes narrowing as if to question the very pertinence of your question. "Celeste Academy offers a catalogue of available slaves trained for full spousal duties: cooking, cleaning, sexual performance. The full feminine suite. Offworlders especially seem to favor them." [["What about the 'dolls' you mentioned?"->AcadDoll]] [["I have other questions."->CustomAcademy]]

"The ultimate sexual toy," Veronica smiles. "Trained in the full suite of sexual activities and service, *intensely* submissive, and delivered to the buyer sealed in a pretty pink box. If our wives are the epitome of the independence we seek in slaves, our dolls are by far the most dependent-- and expensive." [["Wife? Like... in marriage?"->AcadWife]] [["I have other questions."->CustomAcademy]]

Veronica retains her stare. "Why?" The question floats between you, all but bursting with expectation. Why indeed did you wish to give yourself so freely to a lifetime of slavery? [["Actually... you're right, nevermind."->CustomAcademy]] [["I don't know, I just want to."->AcadEnrollFail]] [["I feel... most comfortable, on my knees."->AcadEnrollPass]] [["I just never want to leave Torei."->AcadEnrollFail2]] [["This is my only chance to make something good of today."->AcadEnrollPass]] [["I'm... ready to admit that I need a collar."->AcadEnrollPass]]

"Not good enough," the spokeswoman replies immediately, breaking the gaze she had held upon you so completely. "Consider more completely why you seek a collar." [[You can't even enslave yourself right!->CustomAcademy]]

Veronica holds your gaze for a long time, looking into your eyes, perhaps determining if you measured up. Her conclusion, when it comes, arrives suddenly-- she stands. A small desk is situated in the corner of the otherwise desolate room, and it is from that edifice that she retrieves a glassboard. "By signing this provisional contract, you will be waiving all personal rights and responsibilities to Celeste Academy, pursuant to its foundational charter. This is effectively the same as being collared immediately, but we leave it open to provide for revisions that more closely suit your position going forward once we assign you a final role and begin training for that." She's reading of the glassboard, but turns it around to you now, a litany of text running in stark neon down the front-- until it ends with a singular line intended for a signature. Signing away one's liberty was a simple enough thing, on Torei. Offering it to you, she then pulls forth a simple circle of silver, unadorned but clearly featuring a heavy lock on the back. A collar. *Your* collar. Even looking over the contract you can see it there, a gleaming promise in Veronica's hands as she asks perhaps the most important question of your life. "Do you submit?" [[...no! You can't do it!->AcadEnrollBack]] [["...yes." Sign the board.->AcadEnrollPass2]]

"There are many ways to stay upon this planet, and many of them do not involve a collar." It's a testament to Torei's culture that she did not say *most* reasons did not involve collars. "Consider why you seek to enroll more fully, and if you wish to discuss this again we can." [[Rejected.->CustomAcademy]]

Veronica accepts the glassboard back, her lips set in a firm line, but her eyes surprisingly sympathetic. "It is a momentous step. Many cannot bring themselves to cross that final line, to place their name upon the dotted line. I understand." The collar disappears behind the board, as she holds it to your chest. "The door here remains open if you change your mind, however." [[Hurriedly you escape the Academy's refuge.->CustomHub]]

With perhaps a slight tremble in your hand you take up the lightpen connected to the board, and with a few simple strokes sign away your rights and liberties-- letter by letter. When it is done Veronica accepts the glassboard back, affixing her own signature as principle witness. Then she looks to you, a far more domineering tone in her voice. "Come closer... and kneel" [[Her tone brooks no argument. You approach, and kneel.->AcadEnrollPass3]]

Above you, the Academy recruiter holds the collar aloft-- as if to recognize the importance of this act-- before she lowers it. (if: $Servant is true)[Aligning it with your throat, just below the collar you had received at Club Lush,](else:)[Aligning it with your throat,] she closes it slowly, the interior band pulling tighter as she does, cinching so as to provide as tight an embrace as possible. When her hands withdraw it remains, just uncomfortable enough that its presence could never be forgotten. Veronica smiles from above you. "Welcome to Celeste Academy." [[So close to the Way Up, but all but impossible to reach now...->AcadEnrollPass4]]

Several hours later you lay on the small padded portion of a cell, Veronica having led you to the room located just behind the public area of the Academy's small refuge. You would be taken to Celeste's campus in the morning, and until then you would be kept here-- just another collared slave locked inside a cage, awaiting a fate she could no longer control. How had it come to this? Was that terror, existential and overwhelming, that you felt in your heart-- or a trembling *thrill*? Reaching up, you slowly run a finger along the silver restraint now locked to your neck, marking you readily as something less then human. You're... property now, of a sort. A student to be trained fully in the culture and expectations of this planet, to be shaped and molded into something truly... *Torean.* A creature of pleasure wrapped into laminate. (set: $AcadBonus to 3) [[You're truly lost in laminate now.->AcademyStart]]

(set: $Status to 3)(set: $Strike to 0)(set: $Indy to 0)<img src="https://i.imgur.com/BywQYCp.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> Kneeling primly, you glance down, adjusting your newly provided laminate. Celeste Academy issued Wardrobe rights to this singular uniform to each of its students, as you were informed during orientation. It's your first day at the Academy, and at the very least your dedicated to making a proper first impression. The weight of the collar around your neck, a large ring hanging from it to provide for all manner of leashes and restraints, provides extra incentive. As a slave, you would be punished promptly for stepping out of line. Thus you fiddle with your skirt, the black pleats providing a bit of coverage that your blouse does not-- it is violet, the Academy's color, but semi-transparent. Your breasts(if: $Pierced is true)[ and pierced nipples] being on clear display. The skirt itself is longer then you have come to expect of Torei, but you know why: your uniform lacks panties entirely. Just as you finish smoothing out a wrinkle the secretary seated at the desk nearby looks up, checking her *glass* display before turning her gaze to you. "The Headmistress is ready for you, student." [["Thank you, ma'am."->AcadIntroGood]] [["Okay."->AcadIntroBad]]

"Excellent," Anastasia replies, tapping out a command into her glass. Then she waits, patiently, until the requisite credits are indeed drained from your account. Once it does, you're treated to perhaps Anastasia's first pleased expression-- although quickly it turns predatory. She leans over table, one hand upon it. "We will begin prepping you both for shipment immediately. All you *need* to do is tell the woman at the counter you want 'the slave's special.'" Turning your head, you look across the small cafe to where the cafe's attendent is slowly cleaning out a teacup. She looks bored. [["Okay, I can do that."->CorShip4]] [["That's it?"->CorShip4]]

Anastasia nods, then leans back with her teacup, pointedly dismissing both you and Corinth with her sudden disinterest. Without anything left to do you stand, making your way over to the counter as indicated. "Oh... I did not like her," your friend attempts to whisper, although her regulation mask makes that difficult. She lapses back into silence as you step up to the counter. "What will it be, ma'am?" The attendant asks. [["The... slave's special?"->CorShip5]]

The backroom is not large, primarily reserved for the storage of the cafe's various supplies, but against the far wall there is something unexpected-- a pair of wardrobe devices. They appear a bit... bootleg, mounted on a rolling cart and being smaller then the official ones you've used thus far. Beside them are a series of crates, in differing shapes and sizes. Picking up a glassboard hanging from the side of the wardrobe, the attendant flicks through several pages. "Hmmm... ah, you girls are lucky indeed. Next scheduled pickup is for a pair of fully Academy trained and certified fuckdoll slaves. That means... the violet outfit..." She taps upon the Wardrobe's control panel. "...boots... makeup... gag... there!" Turning to you, she uses the glassboard to gesture towards the maw of the waiting Wardrobe. "Well? In ya go." [["Wait-- what kind of slave?"->CorShip7Ex]] [["I'm not going in there!"->CorShip7Resist]] [["Right... okay."->CorShip7]]

The attendent frowns a bit. "It's... a bit late for that. Usually the people who do this *need* to leave, don't you? To get into the international zone? Well this is the way it's going to happen. So... get in there." Corinth is already approaching her own Wardrobe. "Come on," she indicates the machine next to her. "We can *totally* do this." [["Wait-- what kind of slave?"->CorShip7Ex]] [["Right... okay."->CorShip7]]

With a last hesitant look towards Corinth, you both step into the makeship Wardrobes at the same time-- and your machine responds as you had perhaps expected, with a plethora of arms. Seizing hold of you they begin the systematic removal of your current oufit, but abstain from the (perhaps expensive) solvents used by other machines. Instead your laminate is simply cut off, the sensation of sharp shears running so near your skin quite disconcerting. Yet it achieves its goal without cutting you, leaving you momentarily stripped to your bare skin. Above you the halo-like device that mounted the printing armatures descends, and your new gear is built in place upon you. It starts with a Torean classic, the catsuit, this one in a purple shade that quickly proves to be semi-transparent. Black is then chosen for your accessories, which are formed more slowly. At your feet ballet heels are extruded and then connected to knee high boots, while at your waist an underbust corset is installed, then tightened cruelly by the Wardrobe itself. Afterward your arms are pulled back and layers of laminate applied upon them, linking them together in a single-sleeve armbinder that both prevents any usage of your arms *and* proves decidedly uncomfortable in mere moments. Progressing further up a posture collar, also in black, is printed for around your throat. With it in place, running firmly from jaw to collarbone, you cannot turn your head nor look down. Makeup follows, violet lipstick being applied to your lips, eyeliner and blush accompanying-- while large fake eyelashes ensure a permanently sultry look. The final component is a gag, a large black ball being seated behind your teeth as straps are printed to hold it firmly in place by snapping into place behind your head. Annoyingly, a tube seems to emerge from the back of the ball, tickling your throat slightly. Only then does the Wardrobe release you back out into the backroom. [[You emerge...->CorShip8]]

You step out of the Wardrobe Device (if: $Ballet is true)[in a display of dexterity, having grown accustomed to ballet heels](else:)[stumbling and nearly falling over given your shoes.] Intended to keep you permantently *en pointe*, they're already competing with the strict pull of your new armbinder for the title of 'most uncomfortable.' Yet if you're fighting your new outfit, at your side Corinth emerges, her inexperience leading to a far greater degree of trouble. Her uniform is an exact copy of your own, semi-transparent violet catsuit, corset and heels in black, down to the blonde hair that now runs down to her shoulders-- her own auburn locks having apparently been dyed. Noticing your emergence, the attendant looks to you with a smile, standing over a pair of long crates now laying upon the floor, the pink foam within holding a distinctly feminine silhouette. "Look at you two," she muses, as Corinth wriggles impotently beside you. "A matching set of feminine little dolls now, hm?" (link-reveal: "No I'm not!")[[[ "Mmmmmgh!"->CorShip9]]] (link-reveal: "I have to wear all this?!")[[[ "Mmhhmmgh!"->CorShip9]]] (link-reveal: "Corinth!?")[[[ "Mhhmgh?"->CorShip9]]]

"Well, the gag clearly works," the attendant laughs. Brushing a bit of your own hair from your eyes, she glides her hands up the violet laminate of your chest. It's a simple tease, and one she doesn't linger on before turning to present you to the box upon the floor. "Now, be good dolls and move up beside your boxes. Printed the foam inserts to your exact measurements, while you were inside the Wardrobe. Should be nice and comfy... for awhile, at least." [["Mmmmggh?"->CorShip10a]] [["Mmmmgh..."->CorShip10a]] [[Let her guide you to the box.->CorShip10]]

"I *really* can't understand you with that gag in," the attendent notes. "You really should practice your gag talk." *Was that a thing?* [[Let her guide you to the box.->CorShip10]]

Given your bondage it takes a good bit of effort and assistance from the attendant, but eventually you lead the way for Corinth, and soon find yourself laying in the box just tall enough to fit you. The foam padding beneath you is indeed rather comfortable, even providing a perfectly shaped indent for your bound arms. What's decidedly less comfortable is the lead she connects to the front of your ballgag, the tube positioned down your throat now serving a clear purpose, as she loads a small jug of some sort of liquid into the box beside your head. Food. Further restraints follow, black straps anchored in the box emerging to snap tightly across your body at ankle, hips, waist, and throat-- all of which Corinth watches wide-eyed, her hips shimmying back and forth. Was this whole predicament... turning her on? "There--" the attendent concludes, placing two more items in the insets apparently designed just for them. "Accessories... extra gag, and a vibrating wand. Done! One counterfeit Academy-grade fuckdoll, all pretty and packed up. You just need your lid, and you're lucky, dolls get a *view.*" <img src="https://i.imgur.com/LHncakj.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> To demonstrate she holds up the lid for your box, which indeed does have a clear panel that would expose you from waist to head. The pink graphics and label mark the contents as *Fuckdoll Slave*, *A Fully Trained Torean Doll*, and *A Product of Celeste Academy*. Unable to move, there is little you can do as the lid slotted into place upon your box, then secured with several heavy locks. Corinth is led to her own box moments later, disappearing from view, although you can see the attendent eventually sliding her lid firmly down. [["Mmmgh..."->CorShip11]]

Through the window of your crate, the attendant waves with a smile. "Package pickup is the morning, but you're all set for..." she has the glassboard again, consulting it. "Ah, tough luck. Longer route. Well-- enjoy your time as dolls, girls, you're looking at perhaps two weeks of it." Tapping your crate, she turns back to return to the cafe's front. [["Mmmmmghh!"->CorShip12]] [[Remain silent. It's no use."->CorShip12]]

Somewhere to your side Corinth moans lewdly, but it achieves little. As promised, they come for you in the morning-- two men, wearing simple laminate overalls. They very much look the part of basic labor and act like it, working together to lift your box. The restraints and foam work cooperatively to limit your jostling, and if your toes weren't so strictly pointed and your arms not bent back it would have almost been comfortable. Instead of taking you back through the cafe they carry your display box through some manner of backend tunnel before eventually spilling out onto a public thoroughfare, where a flatbed truck awaits. There you're loaded alongside a variety of other packages and crates, little more then property being moved from one place to another. Placed on your back looking up towards the sky, you're given your first (at least that you could recall) view of the Way Up stretching towards the heavens through the window of your box. You're *so* close, and yet in laminate and restraints, boxed like a perfect little doll, you might as well be a thousand miles away. Corinth's box is retrieved afterward, her quiet moans audible as the men eventually set her down on the higher stack of boxes, tilted sideways to fit-- and allowing you to momentarily meet your fellow faux-doll's eyes. [[One of the porters appears above you.->CorShip13]]

Playing to the role assigned, you act the doll, moaning into your gag as you arch your back. Your bondage prevents much movement, but your chest is thrust up a bit for his pleasure. Corinth follows your lead, pulling against her bondage to do much the same. The man catches the sound and movement, a hand coming to his chin, as if in thought. "Slutty little things..." Arnst, up front, calls again. "You better stop fantasizing about owning those girls, and get back to work. Certainly you won't see them again, did you see that manifest? They're going far out into the Antipodes." The man above you sighs. "I bet she'd be a fun time..." [[He disappears from view, and you're left to your thoughts.->CorShip15]]

Arnst, up front, calls again. "You better stop fantasizing about owning those girls, and get back to work. Certainly you won't see them again, did you see that manifest? They're going far out into the Antipodes." The man above you sighs. "I bet she'd be a fun time..." [[He disappears from view, and you're left to your thoughts.->CorShip15]]

Time passes dreadfully slowly, in your box. Corinth, without even a view of the sky to pass her time, appears to lapse into a blank-eyed submissive state. Eventually you both are offloaded from the truck, entering a processing center of some sort. You catch the glimpse of the occasional collared slave peeking into your display box, but most simply seem focused on their work-- and soon you're being loaded into the baggage compartment of a train. That's even worse, the barest hint of interesting locales replaced by a darkened interior. That Corinth remains nearby is only evidenced by the wet little moan she gives upon her box being placed nearby. Sometime later, you think its night, you finally work up the courage to suckle on the tube hanging from your gag-- and are rewarded with a foul slurry that runs down your throat. Apparently the food of slaves, but all you can attest to is that it's thankfully filling. You don't need to eat much. And thus a cycle developes, your drifting into fitful sleep only to be awakened by the rattle of the train. When hungry you suck out some more of the nutriant slurry. [[Slowly the hours become days... a week passes.->CorShip16]]

The train slows... but are you caught in a dream? It's been getting hard to tell the difference between the waking reality of your dark compartment and your sleep that seems filled with much the same. That you're awake becomes clear as you feel the ache in your arms and legs, a telltale sign soon replaced by blinding *light.* "Transit number... yeah, there they are," a female voice declares, just before hands settle upon your box. You're pulled out into the blinding light of day, although thankfully you're propped up against the side of the train instead of staring up directly into that burning sun. Corinth's box follows, her brows upturning slightly as she is carried past before being leaned up beside you. You're on a train platform of some sort, rolling fields of green stretching out across the horizon. Before you stands something downright terrifying, however-- a pair of Truant Officers. *Has the plan come apart? You can't even run!* [[They begin unlocking both your display boxes.->CorShip17]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/iQB9t2X.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> "Be careful," the Officer working upon Corinth's box admonishes the one working on yours, adjusting her cap. "Don't scratch that box, you know what our orders say." "Yeah, yeah," the shorter one replies, standing back up as they remove both lids in unison. After a week, the fresh air that enters is heavenly-- and feels nearly as good as your fears of discovery being quickly squashed. "Pull the boxes, affix a new label, change the trackers inside," the Officer continues, as if speaking a carefully prepared script. "We've done this a hundred times, stop worrying." "I *always* worry with these dolls," the partner responds. "Most of these jobs are just cheap auction trash, but only the rich would own one of these slaves. Imagine messing that up." The bolder one rolls her eyes, then reaches down, plucking the vibrator wand in your box-- listed as an included accessory-- out from its slot. Her other hand settles on your hip, the smooth curve emphasized by the corset still embracing you so tightly. "Stop. Worrying!" [[Wriggle in your bondage.->CorShip17A]] [["Mmmmmgh..."->CorShip17A]]

"See how well trained these are?" The bolder Officer asks, having noticed your subdued response. "She's been in there for a week, and what happens the moment I grab this vibe? She wants it." (set: $Strike to 0) *Had that been your intent?* "They're *trained* to want it, or to act like they do," the partner responds. "Come on, se--" She's ignored by the wand-armed Officer. "Do you want the vibe, doll? It would be a terrible burden, locked in your cute little box. But you would be all nice at wet for your Master, or Mistress-- whoever owns you." Turning, she looks to Corinth. "Oh-- or maybe *this* doll wants it? Hmm? How about this, I'll set one of you up with it. Whichever one begs for it harder. How does that sound? Good? Good. Let me hear it." At your side Corinth moans with wild abandon, the sound of her squirming against her restraints clearly audible. She wants it, at the very least. *Bad*. (link-reveal: "You want it, beg-- HARD!")[[[ "MMMMMmmmmGHHH!"->CorShip18A]]] (link-reveal: "Let Corinth have it.")[[[ "Mmmmmh..."->CorShip18B]]]

The other Officer sighs as you and Corinth moan in unison, your friend begging harder for the torturous pleasure that would another long internment with that wand. "Don't be like that," comes the response. "Come on, you know she deserves it. No one ends up as one of these fuck dolls without thinking solely with her cunt." The partner looks upon the scene, glistening violet bodies struggling against box restraints, then sighs again. "Fine, but seal them back in afterward. They have to be on the train back to Grand Aekora in like, a half hour." And with that she departs, leaving you with the Officer, the vibrating wand, and a steady approach towards Corinth. (set: $Strike to 1) [[She wanted it, after all...->CorShip19A]]

The other Officer sighs as you and Corinth moan in unison, your friend begging hard for the torturous pleasure that would another long internment with that wand-- but you go even harder at it, throwing yourself against the straps. "Don't be like that," comes the response. "Come on, you know she deserves it. No one ends up as one of these fuck dolls without thinking solely with her cunt." The partner looks upon the scene, glistening violet bodies struggling against box restraints, then sighs again. "Fine, but seal them back in afterward. They have to be on the train back to Grand Aekora in like, a half hour." And with that she departs, leaving you with the Officer approaching you to the dejected moans of Corinth nearby [[Corinth couldn't have handled it, after all...->CorShip19]]

Corinth has no more the means to resist then a doll, and the Officer knows it. Sliding the wand up between her legs, you can imagine her own thighs pulled so tightly together by the intervening straps ensuring it could not move. "How's that? Not good enough, I bet. You want it *on*." And with a flick of her thumb, it is, the rounded tip vibrating fiercly. You can hear it between Corinth's thighs, and much more alarmingly against the zipper guarding her womanhood-- such defenses providing little actual help as the assaulting waves of sensation begin working through her. "Better? Good." Pulling her lid back over, the Officer slots it into place upon Corinth's box as the girl mewls in helpless ecstasy. Your lid follows, the locks are reinstalled afterward as a bit of drool runs down your chin. Once again you're looking out the plastic panel that was your box's display port, through which the Officer looks. She waves, before winking towards Corinth. "Enjoy your trip back the other way, dolly..." [[Corinth has a long trip ahead of her...->CorShip20]]

(if: $Strike is 0)[The vibrator is not positioned particularly well, making any real attempt at orgasm difficult-- but it does prove *relentless.* Eventually you're loaded back into another train compartment, returned to the relative darkness with other pieces of luggage, but the wand makes settling into your previous routine difficult. Despite your best intentions the vibrator is making you wet, inducing an ache in your loins that keeps you up at night. Even your meals, such as they are, are interrupted on occasion by a twitch of your hips. It just felt so *good*, and knowing you couldn't remove the damned thing only made it worse.](if: $Strike is 1)[You're left with a bit of an ache between your legs, despite your best efforts your cunt having wetted a bit at the thought of earning that wand. Instead you're left with merely the orgasmic delight and discomfort that emerges from your fellow doll. Eventually you're loaded back into another train compartment, returned to the relative darkness with other pieces of luggage.] [[And the train rumbles on.->CorShip21]]

Moaning quietly in your little box, the doll you had been forced to imitate can only endure (if: $Strike is 0)[the wand](else:)[Corinth's self-sought torture]. But endure you do, two weeks of mindnumbing immobility, strict bondage, and tight laminate finally come to an end as you're unloaded once more. Just *where* you are isn't clear until your box and Corinth's are positioned upright side-by-side upon a handcart, a man apparently signing for you before leaning you back to begin walking. Above you the Way Up looms, close-- so very close. Eventually you enter into a door, moving down several side passages before coming to a stop inside what appears to be a massive warehouse. Duraplastic containers are stacked all about, almost forming a small ring of privacy within the space your doll boxes are finally removed from the cart and leaned up against. Looking in, the man swings a key around his finger. "Ready to come out?" [[Surely he jests.->CorShip22]]

He is. Working down the locks on each side of your box, he finally removes the lid(if: $Strike is 0)[-- then notices the vibrator, pulling that out first] before addressing the straps securing you in place. Once those are free you try to lurch forward, a firm hand on your shoulder holding you in place-- before he offers a hand. "Two weeks in that getup, and those boots? You ain't gonna want to walk, honey." The truth is evident as you slowly slide free from the custom molding of the box, only to collapse, his strong hands the only thing keeping you upright. Carefully he guides you over to what appears to be a cot, that he helps you sit down on. Then he pulls out your gag. "Welcome to the international zone." [["...I... I made it?"->CorShip23Made]] [["W-Who are you...?"->CorShip23Who]] [["W-Where am I...?"->CorShip23Where]]

"Yes you did," the man replies. "And that's after you pulled the bad luck of a... particularly rough trip, and I've seen all sorts of cover stories come through my little port. "Posing as one of Celeste's pleasure dolls is *not* an easy thing to do. And I'm sure Anastasia did not tell you about that." [["W-Where am I...?"->CorShip23Where]] [["W-Who are you...?"->CorShip23Who]] [["What... happens now?"->CorShip24]]

"Oh, right-- name's Jacob," he says. "I'd shake your hand, but you've got that armbinder on... will probably need to cut that off." He begins looking through the workbench up alongside one of the containers. [["...I... I made it?"->CorShip23Made]] [["W-Where am I...?"->CorShip23Where]] [["What... happens now?"->CorShip24]]

"The international zone of the Way Up, like I said. Where Torei's laws no longer apply. "You're free." [["...I... I made it?"->CorShip23Made]] [["W-Who are you...?"->CorShip23Who]] [["What... happens now?"->CorShip24]]

Having returned to Corinth's box, he repeats the process to free Corinth. (if: $Strike is 0)[She emerges sore, barely able stand.](else:)[She emerges barely cognizant, still thrusting her hips forward even after the vibrator is removed from between her legs. "Had a wild ride, huh?" He asks, to which Corinth can only moan quietly.] Guiding her over, she is seated beside you-- and promptly collapses back, jaw shifting around the ball still locked between her teeth. "Well," he returns to your side, a thin blade in hand. Pressing it against your armbinder, it comes apart with surprising ease. "You've made it to your destination. Two weeks behind schedule and in a *very* interesting manner, but you made it-- just as my better half promised. Obviously I'm removing your binder, but I don't exactly have clothes for you. So you'll be wearing that on your way out of here." He pulls the armbinder away, your arms nearly screaming from the sudden liberty allowed them. After so long restrained, remaining strictly bound almost seemd the greater mercy. "So I'll provide you with a ticket for the Way Up, and you can be on your merry way." [["What do you mean by 'better half'?"->CorShip25What]] [["That sounds... great, Jacob."->CorShip25]]

Jacob shrugs, handing over the ticket before he offers a hand, pulling you to your feet. Two weeks of immobilization could not be overcome by ten minutes seated, but you feel strong enough to at least walk for yourself. Bidding the man goodbye, he points you towards a door on the far side of the terminal, through which you emerge into the public international zone. Despite having awoken tied to your own rented bed, without a credit to your name, you've made it. You're free, beyond the grasping shackles of Torean society, it's strange culture and restraints. (Even if you've retained the uniform.) Perhaps several days locked inside a crate, bound and teased, utterly helpless was hardly an escape worth celebrating... but you've done it, a fate few others could claim. Most would not have not had the guts, but you're **free**, and the galaxy awaits... [[You've made it.->GoodEnding]]

He gives a rueful look. "Thought you looked the type. Come on then." Approaching, he snaps the leash to your collar, then gives a light tug. Two weeks of immobilization could not be overcome by ten minutes seated, but you feel strong enough to at least walk for yourself, which Jacob eases by setting an easy pace. Crossing the warehouse you pass together through a door that leads back to the public international zonem and there find a very different sort of crowd. Where Grand Aekora and its outskirts had been dominated by native Toreans and those bold enough to venture far from the the Way Up, and thus were almost universally in laminate, you had seen the Customs Enclave had been mixing that *very* distinct aesthetic with offworlder textiles-- and now here, on the far side of the border, your continued laminate is as distinct as could possibly be. All eyes turn to you, staring at your laminate outfit, gawking at your staggering heels, leering at the leash running to your collar. For many of them **you** are their first taste of Torei, and it shows. All you can do is keep your eyes forward, however, focusing on your steps and making your way carefully through the main concourses. Crossing that takes a few more minutes, but eventually you do arrive at the gates of the Way Up itself. There Jacob wraps the leash around his wrist several times, drawing you close as he freely gropes your chest. "Here we are-- what do we say, doll?" [["Thank you, Master."->SmugShip26AA]]

"That's right," he smiles, finally unhooking you. With a firm slap on the rear he directs you towards the gates. "Good luck, now!" Despite having awoken tied to your own rented bed, without a credit to your name, you've made it. You're free, beyond the grasping shackles of Torean society, it's strange culture and restraints. (Even if you've retained the uniform.) Perhaps several days locked inside a crate, bound and teased, utterly helpless was hardly an escape worth celebrating... but you've done it, a fate few others could claim. Most would not have not had the guts, but you're **free**, and the galaxy awaits... [[You make your way forward.->GoodEnding]]

Seizing Jacob's blade, you cut free Corinth's armbinder, which in turn allows her to remove her own gag-- setting it aside as she takes a *very* deep breath. "That was... **amazing**, wasn't it?" [["Yes!"->CorShip27a]] [["...yes."->CorShip27a]] [["You actually liked that?"->CorShip27]]

"Being so helpless, and wearing... *this*-- we look almost identical! And did you hear the way those boys talked about you? Luckily I was, you know, all locked up like I was-- otherwise I don't know *what* I would have done." [["Is that why you begged so hard for the wand?"->CorShip28a]] [["I'm just happy it's over."->CorShip28b]] [["You look great like that, by the way. As a doll."->CorShip28c]]

"Yes! You didn't? Being so helpless, and wearing... *this*-- we look almost identical! And did you hear the way those boys talked about you? Luckily I was, you know, all locked up like I was-- otherwise I don't know *what* I would have done." [["Is that why you begged so hard for the wand?"->CorShip28a]] [["I'm just happy it's over."->CorShip28b]] [["You look great like that, by the way. As a doll."->CorShip28c]]

She blushes fiercely. (if: $Strike is 1)["Not as hard as you did, apparently! Bet it felt good.... not that](else:)["You don't know good it felt, to be in there without the opportunity to escape... not that] I ever thought I would be competing with you over... that!" Corinth blushes again, her embarrassment somewhat spared by the sound of Jacob returning. [[Tickets in hand.->CorShip29]]

Your disapproval seems to sour her ebullient mood, but any further response is spared by the sound of Jacob returning. [[Tickets in hand.->CorShip29]]

She blushes fiercely. "You... uh, you do too... everything about this was crazy hard, but like... I..." Words fail Corinth as she blushes again, her embarrassment somewhat spared by the sound of Jacob returning. [[Tickets in hand.->CorShip29]]

"And here we... are," the man announces, handing a ticket each to you and Corinth. "My work here is done for the day-- did you want to be escorted to the Way Up's gates?" As he asks he indicates the leashes hung along the wall. "It's not the way they do it out here, of course, but some girls who come through... just can't shake the Torei from themselves." The thought of being led publicly on a leash clearly interests Corinth, her eyes wide, her head all but nodding-- but she looks to you for the final confirmation. (set: $GEndOutfit to 2)(set: $Slave to false)(set: $Blue to false)(set: $Smoke to false)(set: $Sec to false)(set: $Brand to false)(set: $Servant to false)(set: $Textile to false) [["Oh no, I'm fine-- no thank you."->SmugShip30A]] [["...yes, sir."->SmugShip30]]

He gives a rueful look. "Thought you two looked the type. Come on then." Approaching, he snaps the leash to your collar, the repeats the process with Corinth before he gives a light tug. Two weeks of immobilization could not be overcome by ten minutes seated, but you feel strong enough to at least walk for yourself, which Jacob eases by setting an easy pace. Corinth is your identical twin at your side. Crossing the warehouse you pass together through a door that leads back to the public international zonem and there find a very different sort of crowd. Where Grand Aekora and its outskirts had been dominated by native Toreans and those bold enough to venture far from the the Way Up, and thus were almost universally in laminate, you had seen the Customs Enclave had been mixing that *very* distinct aesthetic with offworlder textiles-- and now here, on the far side of the border, your continued laminate is as distinct as could possibly be. All eyes turn to you and Corinth, staring at your laminate outfit, gawking at your staggering heels, leering at the very idea of two women in identical laminate uniforms following happily along behind the man who held your leash. For many of them **you** are their first taste of Torei, and it shows. All you can do is keep your eyes forward, however, focusing on your steps and making your way carefully through the main concourses. Crossing that takes a few more minutes, but eventually you do arrive at the gates of the Way Up itself. There Jacob wraps the leash around his wrist several times, drawing you close as he freely gropes your chest. "Here we are-- what do we say, doll?" "Thank you, Master!" Corinth provides, at your side. [["Thank you, Master."->SmugShip30A]]

"Excellent," Anastasia replies, tapping out a command into her glass. Then she waits, patiently, until the requisite credits are indeed drained from your account. Once it does, you're treated to perhaps Anastasia's first pleased expression-- although quickly it turns predatory. She leans over table, one hand upon it. (set: $debt to it - 200) "You both will be departing immediately-- the cover of darkness perhaps helping. All you need to do is tell the woman at the counter you want 'to take a walk.'" Turning your head, you look across the small cafe to where the cafe's attendent is slowly cleaning out a teacup. She looks bored. [["Okay, I can do that."->CorKey4]] [["That's it?"->CorKey4]]

Anastasia nods, then leans back with her teacup, pointedly dismissing you with her sudden disinterest. Without anything left to do you stand, making your way over to the counter as indicated. "Oh... I did not like *her*," Corinth whispers through her mask, having moved out of earshot. Still, she watches her tongue as you approach the counter. "What will it be, ma'am?" The attendant manning it asks. [["We would... like to take a walk?"->CorKey5]]

The backroom is not large, primarily reserved for the storage of the cafe's various supplies, but against the far wall there is something unexpected-- a pair of wardrobe devices. They appear a bit... bootleg, mounted on a rolling cart and being smaller then the official ones you've used thus far. Beside them are a series of crates, in differing shapes and sizes. Your guiding attendant ignores them completely however, instead moving towards an otherwise nondescript wall. When she presses upon one of the durasteel bricks, however, it shifts-- revealing a hidden door, and a tunnel burrowed into it. Producing a keycard, she offers it to Corinth-- who promptly hands it to you, as if not desiring the responsibility. The attendant's eyes narrow, but she shrugs afterward, looking to you. "Go down the hallway, fourth door-- only one on your right. The others won't open, so don't try it." [[Take the card. "Understood."->CorKey7]] [["What about after that?"->CorKey7A]]

You step into the secret tunnel, Corinth following, only to see the attendant turn back your way. "Hey-- and good luck. You'll need it." And with that she closes the hidden wall, leaving you both in darkness. The gloom reveals small lights set along the floor, providing you with an obvious path forward, but you still need to watch your footing-- the ground is uneven. One, two, three, you count the doors passed on your left as instructed, until finally coming to another door-- this one on your right. Placing your hand against (if: $Sec is true or $Textile is true)[you feel it to be a bit chilled by the night air undoubtedly just beyond.](else:)[you feel it to be a bit chilled even through your laminate glove, the undoubtedly from the night air just beyond.] (set: $Strike to 0) "Whatever happens," Corinth whispers behind you, "we stick together, right?" [["We stick together, I promise."->CorKeyProm]] [["I can't promise that."->CorKeyNoProm]]

The attendant steps forward, looking to her left, as if she could see through steel and earth to the places beyond. "You'll be outside, in the space between this terminal and the Way Up's international zone. Look for the red door. Get past that, and you're all gloss." She gestures for you to leave. "Now-- go, I need to get back up front in the Cafe." [[You step towards the door.->CorKey7]]

(set: $Strike to 1)Behind the viewport of her heavy slave mask, you can see the relief in her eyes. "I promise too." It's almost midnight, and you're too far along to turn back now. [[Throw the door open, ready for anything.->CorThrowDoor]] [[Gently slide it open, take a peek.->CorPeek]]

)Behind the viewport of her heavy slave mask, you can see the fear in her eyes. "You don't mean that..." It's almost midnight, and you're too far along to turn back now. [[Throw the door open, ready for anything.->CorThrowDoor]] [[Gently slide it open, take a peek.->CorPeek]]

Taking Anastasia's suggestion that this entire attempt could quickly devolve into a footrace, you against Truant Agents with your freedom on the line, you throw the door open-- ready for anything. The darkness of the tunnel meets the quiet dark of the garden beyond, carefully sculpted bushes arranged around a fountain from your point of view, but the sound of the door-- or perhaps your hurried movement-- seems to have drawn immediate attention. A spotlight suddenly ignites, hellishly bright in comparison, from the rooftop of the Terminal you now stand ready to exit. Corinth groans quietly behind you. Still-- you see your goal in the distance, a door that would have been too dark to make out had it not been for the red light blinking above it. You're so close-- and the way is remarkably clear, an empty expanse of grass before you. [[Try to sneak along the edge of the open area.->CorSneak]] [[Run for it-- that spotlight will see you eventually!->CorRun]]

Carefully, mindful of every possible squeak from the archaic sort of hinged door, you work it open. The darkness of the tunnel meets the quiet dark of the garden beyond, carefully sculpted bushes arranged around a fountain from your point of view. Oddly, there are no signs of guards-- the way across is nothing more then a broad expanse of grass. Still-- you see your goal in the distance, a door that would have been too dark to make out had it not been for the red light blinking above it. You're so close! [[They will see you anyway, run for it!->CorRun]] [[Try to sneak along the edge of the open area.->CorSneak]]

Cautiously you lead Corinth in edging along the side of the grassy plain, a choice that proves well considered when you notice several small metallic *things* gleaming in the grass just before the door you had exited. Mines of some sort? Either way you avoid them, but about halfway across another peril befalls you-- a searchlight arcing across the grass, then along the wall you're moving along. It will reach you any moment. Staying along the wall is safer, but will expose you-- even running will not escape that rapidly approaching light. Otherwise you could break out across the grass, watching as best you can for mines. [[Stay along the wall!->CorSneak2Cor]] [[Risk the grass!->CorRun2]]

Breaking from the doorway, you make for the door as fast as you can manage. Your third step reveals how little speed would matter, however, when several small devices jump up suddenly from the grass. *Motion-activated mines* your mind identifies, moments before they discharge in a flash of blinding light. It takes your eyes a good minute to regain vision, but by then you already know you're in trouble. You had fallen, unable to get up-- the *why* explained when you can finally look down, revealing the thick laminate straps that have wrapped around your body. A few feet back Corinth wriggles in a similar state, having already rolled onto her back, screaming in surprise-- a difficult enough endeavor given her regulating mask. A flash of light, binding straps being launched in all directions? You've fallen into a typical Torean security device, and already you can hear voices approaching as a spotlight upon the Terminal circles your fallen form in a halo of bright light. [[Struggle!->CorRunFail]] [[Lay still, accept your fate.->CorRunFail]]

It takes some time for the Truant Officers that find you to extricate you and Corinth from your predicaments, but they manage, eventually securing your hands behind your back as they march you back towards the Terminal. Arrested in the act of an attempted illegal border crossing, you're informed of the gravity of your situation-- and the fact that it will take some time before your trial. Until then, you both will be a guest of the Ministry of Truants. Despite it all, freedom retreats much like the glimmering Way Up behind you, so close yet now eternally out of reach. This will earn you a collar, certainly, and who could tell what would happen then? You're truly lost in laminate now. [[Time passes...->CorRunTrial]]

You break into a sprint, one hand skating along the wall. As expected the spotlight lands upon you rather quickly, momentarily overshooting before coming back to you-- perhaps surprised to have found someone. Alarms in the distance announce you've been discovered, but you're already three quarters of the way to the door, and making good time... ...but Corinth is not behind you. Having seen the same oncoming danger she had chosen instead to make for the grass, a decision that quickly proves ill-considered. As you watch a sudden burst of light momentarily blinds you, Corinth being revealed afterward prone upon the grass, wrapped in the laminate bands of the trap she had triggered. Turning back to help seemed likely to end in your both being captured, (if: $Strike is 1)[ and yet you *had* made her a promise to stick together.](else:)[ and when pressed you had not promised to stick together. Certainly she would want you to get away... right?] [[Go back for her!->CorSneak2Back]] [[Leave her!->CorSneak3]]

Seizing Corinth's hand you break from the wall, eyes firmly upon the ground as you try to dance around the metallic triggers sticking up from the grass. It proves easier then you expected in fact, as they reflect the searchlight still running quickly along the wall. But they're not the only waiting trap. Stepping carefully around a trigger, your (if: $Textile is true)[foot](else:)[heeled boot] hits the grass-- and keeps going down. You stumble, trying to find your footing, only for your other leg to begin sliding into a similar trap. Quickly you sink down to the meeting of your thighs(if: $Slave is true or $Plugs is true)[, your plugs driven sharply into your holes from the impact ](if: $Servant is true)[, your pierced clit announcing its presence with a shot of pleasure through your nerves as you impact ], struggling to free yourself. Corinth had avoided the initial problem, but in her haste to help she trips one of the minds-- and after a bright flash of light ends up fallen beside you, wrapped in the laminate bands that had leaped forth from such a trap. Perhaps the Torean-style pitfall traps have sensors, perhaps you're unlucky-- either way the spotlight arcs suddenly into position overyou both, providing a halo of stark light as voices can be heard in the distance... [[Struggle!->CorRunFail]] [[Lay still, accept your fate.->CorRunFail]]

The red door, your ticket to freedom, is so close... but you can't just leave Corinth. You turn back, moving as quickly as you could. Now that you knew what to look for the small mines are easily seen in the roaming reflections caused by the spotlight... but they're not the only trap. Stepping carefully around a trigger, your (if: $Textile is true)[foot](else:)[heeled boot] hits the grass-- and keeps going down. You stumble, trying to find your footing, only for your other leg to begin sliding into a similar trap. Quickly you sink down to the meeting of your thighs(if: $Slave is true or $Plugs is true)[, your plugs driven sharply into your holes from the impact ](if: $Servant is true)[, your pierced clit announcing its presence with a shot of pleasure through your nerves as you impact ], struggling to free yourself. Perhaps the Torean-style pitfall traps have sensors, perhaps you're unlucky-- either way the spotlight arcs suddenly into position overyou both, providing a halo of stark light as voices can be heard in the distance. Your only solace is your friend at your side, still wrapped in laminate, who manages a single sentence. "...thank you, for coming back..." [[Struggle!->CorRunFail]] [[Lay still, accept your fate.->CorRunFail]]

You hesitate, one heartbeat, two-- then turn away from her. (if: $Strike is 1)["You promised!" Corinth screams behind you.](else:)[You dare not look any longer.] The red door is so near now-- how could you turn back now, when so close? Everything changes when gunshot like pops precede canisters falling around you. however. From them a thick pink smoke emerges, quickly filling a garden courtyard you now realize was perfectly designed for such a trap. (if: $Slave is true)[Luckily, for perhaps the first time since donning your slave suit it proves beneficial-- you're masked, every breath strictly regulated, and *completely immune* to the whatever toxin was spilling forth.](else:)[You try to hold your breath, but running requires oxygen, and you're forced eventually to inhale-- just as you reach the door.] (if: $Slave is true)[[[Keep running!->CorSlaveEscape]]](else:)[[[You reach for the keycard...->CorRun3]]]

(if: $CorSec is true)[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/RFnMSJA.jpg" width="35%" height="35%"> Corinth stands before you, expectant. It almost seems like she's thrusting out her chest a bit. [["Can we talk about your getting over the border?"->CorEasyBorder]] [["So, what do you think of your outfit?"->CorEasyOut]] ](if: $CorDD is true)[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/tWL2aFo.jpg" width="35%" height="35%"> Corinth stands before you, expectant. It almost seems like she's thrusting out her chest a bit. [["Can we talk about your getting over the border?"->CorEasyBorder]] [["So, what do you think of your outfit?"->CorEasyOut]] ](if: $CorSlave is true)[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/Q8FIDj1.png" width="35%" height="35%"> Corinth stands before you, expectant in full slave regalia. It almost seems like she's thrusting out her chest a bit. [["What... were you just doing? Kneeling?"->CorSlaveKneel]] [["We need to talk about getting you over the border."->CorSlaveOp]] [["So, what do you think of your outfit?"->CorHardOut]] ](if: $CorSec is false and $CorDD is false and $CorSlave is false)[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/4UJTJBh.png" width="35%" height="35%"> Corinth stands before you, arms collected before her waist, expectant. [["Can we talk about your getting over the border?"->CorEasyBorder]] ] (if: $CorCredits is false)[[["You mentioned you had some credits on you, right?"->CorCredits]]] (if: $Wanted is > 0)[[["We need to talk about the Ministry of Truants being after me."->CorWanted]]] [["Can we talk about... our history?"->CorHistory]] [["What if... we didn't leave Torei?"->CorStay]] (if: $Servant is true)[[["I'm guess you want to talk about my new... uniform?"->CorServant]]] [[Step away from Corinth, consider your options.->CustomHub]]

Corinth tips her head to the side. "Why? All I need to do is go through the checkpoint, and that shouldn't be that hard-- I haven't done anything that they would detain me for. I'm more concerned about *you*. Being here on Torei for so long, and what you told me happened at that hotel? There is a lot more there to trip you up, you know? So if you need any help, just let me know. I'll do anything I can to help!" [["Will do, Corinth."->CorHub]]

"Now that I've had some time to wear it, you mean? (if: $CorDD is true)[Well... I feel kind of crazy saying this, you know... but I *love* it!" She looks down, the tight black dress barely reaching past her hips. Settling her own hands upon them she skates upwards, following the curve of her waist. "It's like... always being hugged, you know? It's just so tight and, like, *really* kinda slutty... but also empowering! I feel so confident! I've never work anything with garters before either, so that's fun. And the way people look at me, in laminate! Some think I'm crazy, and some are jealous, and the boys..." She laughs, the window to her cleavage being all the more obvious in that moment. (if: $Textile is true)["I see you changed back into something offworld, though... how do *you* feel about laminate?"](else:)["I'm sure you know how it is, being an expert in this stuff. How do *you* feel about laminate?"]](if: $CorSec is true)[Well... I feel kind of crazy saying this, you know... but I *love* it!" She looks down, the tight black dress barely reaching past her hips, the blue of her blouse semi-transparent. Settling her own hands upon the former she skates upwards, following the curve of her waist. "It's like... always being hugged, you know? It's just so tight and, like, *really* kinda slutty... but also empowering! I feel so confident! I've never worn a skirt like this either, so that's fun. And the way people look at me, in laminate! Some think I'm crazy, and some are jealous, and the boys..." She laughs, the outline of her bra beneath being all the more obvious in that moment. (if: $Textile is true)["I see you changed back into something offworld, though... how do *you* feel about laminate?"](else:)["I'm sure you know how it is, being an expert in this stuff. How do *you* feel about laminate?"]] [["I feel the same, Corinth-- it's amazing!"->CorOutSame]] [["I... don't really like it, Corinth."->CorOutNo]] (if: $Slave is true)[[["It feels... right, to be in my slave suit."->CorOutSlave]]]

"What?" Masked as she is, you can only imagine Corinth blushing. "I was just... uh..." Apparently lying isn't one of her strong suits, a fact she seems to come to terms with after a very awkward silence. "Alright... uh... *yeah.* I just... wanted to see how it felt, you know? I saw... things on my way over here, how some others wearing this suit were treated... and I was curious, I guess." [["I guess that's alright, Corinth..."->CorHub]]

"Right, yeah," Corinth replies, glancing down. You can only imagine she's distracted by her plugs, and trying very hard not to show it. Trying and failing. "Do you... have a plan?" She asks. "I don't have... anywhere near enough experience with Torei, you know? So I'm relying on you. If I don't get over the border... I don't know what would happen, dressed like this, without any credits to my name." (if: $CorShip is true)[[["I found... a smuggler who could ship you over the border."->CorShipAna]]] (if: $CorShipLiz is true)[[["I have a contact, Elizabeth, who will get you over the border."->CorShipLiz]]] (if: $CorShipJan is true)[[["I have a contact, Janeck, who will get you over the border."->CorShipJan]]] (if: $CorRun is true)[[["I found... a smuggler, who can help you sneak past the border."->CorRunTalk]]] [["Actually, let's talk about something else."->CorHub]]

She looks down, as if surprised to find the tight laminate suit upon herself. You can hear her taking a deep breath through her mask as she returns her gaze to you. "It's... different then I expected, because when you put this on me... I couldn't believe you did it, that anyone could... *like* this. But..." Corinth takes a second to work up the courage, but she manages it. "... I *do* like it. More then I ever thought I would. The sense of being on display, of it being so tight, of being... almost helpless. It's... it's been a lot to take in, you know? In a good way." [[A lot to take in, indeed...->CorHub]]

(set: $CorCredits to true)"Oh, yeah," Corinth replies, pulling forth her personal ID. "Obviously we can always pull from the company account for purchases, but that only works on the space-station in orbit-- and I kinda sorta maybe didn't bring as many credits down the Way Up as I should of." Her sheepish tone brightens as she pulls forth her ID card, simple proximity allowing her to transfer credits from it. "So I've only got the 50 credits, but I'm giving them to you right now, alright? Use them however you think is best, I trust you." (set: $debt to it + 50) [["Thanks, Corinth."->CorHub]] [["Better then nothing, I guess."->CorHub]]

"I wasn't going to, like, *push* you on it... but I was curious when I saw it on the kiosk we used," she admits. (if: $Wanted is 1)["It said you were wanted for... questioning? Why?"](if: $Wanted is 2)["It said you were... a parolee? What does that mean?"] [["I got into a bit of trouble, at the Club..."->CorWanted2]] (if: $Wanted is 1)[[["It means the Ministry of Truants is after me, Corinth."->CorOntheRun]]](if: $Wanted is 2)[[["It means... I was arrested, Corinth."->CorArrest]]]

Corinth had been idly watching a pair of tourists wandering by, but her attention snaps back to you immediately upon hearing those words. "Stay?" She asks, sounding a bit incredulous. "Here? On Torei? How... how do you mean?" [["I... don't really know, I guess. What do you think?"->CorStayDunno]] [["Well... have you ever thought about owning someone?"->CorStayDom]] [["Well... we could stay together... serve together...?"->CorStaySub]] [["Well... what if you were... to serve me?"->CorStayBeDomd]] [["Nevermind."->CorHub]]

"Uh-- *yeah*," Corinth replies. "It's really cute." It takes her a moment to realize what she had just said. "I mean-- is that a **collar**? And that looks like a uniform! What happened since we last talked, you said you were going to a Club of some sort, right?" You fill her in on the peculiar path you had walked through the violet den of vice and neon that had been Club Lush. Of the Wardrobe Device, of your using the uniform you were now locked into to reach the VIP balcony. And, of course, of the contract you had signed to achieve it all. "Gosh," your friend breathes afterward. (if: $CorSlave is true)["I was going to say that I can't imagine what it's like, to wear something like that... with such a short skirt, that collar, the way everyone must look at you like a servant..." She gestures down, at her own slave-coded uniform. "But... I suppose mine is kind of intended to achieve the same thing, huh? Only you get that skirt. I meant it when I said its like... really cute."](else:)["I can't imagine what it's like, to wear something like that... with such a short skirt, that collar, the way everyone must look at you like a servant..." Her lips pull into a little smirk. "It's a good look for you, though."] [["...thanks?"->CorHub]] [["Thanks!"->CorHub]]

"Oh I'm so happy you think the same!" She exclaims, pulling you into a neat little hug. Her grip is surpisingly fierce, one of her heeled feet pulling up and kicking out behind her in a flourish of emotion. (if: $Textile is true)[Her laminate is so very slick against your offworlder clothing.](else:)[Chest to chest in glossy laminate, you draw several looks from thos passing nearby.] Eventually she does release you, stepping back, hands going behind her back as she positively beams. [[You seem to recall Corinth always having been excitable.->CorHub]]

Her bright mood darkens, a frown pulling across lips painted so carefully by the Wardrobe Machine. "Well... I'm sorry, you're right of course... Torei is... everything about this planet we should be careful of, right? Even the laminate. *Especially* the laminate. (if: $Textile is true)[Is that why you changed into that outfit? Without the laminate I mean?](else:)[I bet you don't want to be wearing it, anymore? I think I saw Wardrobe machines around here somewhere...]" She sighs. "Sorry, we should really be focusing on getting off Torei, huh?" [["Yes we should."->CorHub]]

Her eyes widen, lips opening in momentary shock. "...oh? Really? Well it certainly looks... *intense.*" Corinth allows her gaze to run up and down the black laminate of your uniform, every curve very much on display to her-- and anyone else who sought to take a look. She seems to come to a conclusion but then holds back from saying it aloud, delaying instead by glancing about. "Well... you look good in it," she finally manages, finding the courage to meet your eyes. "Maybe it does suit you..." [[She leaves it there.->CorHub]]

"Our history?" It takes a moment for her to realize what you meant. "Oh-- you mean... because you can't remember much, right? Wow, yeah... maybe we should have done that before? I guess it doesn't matter, we can certainly do it now! Whatever you want to ask, I'll try to tell you." She leans in (if: $CorSlave is true)[winking through the viewport of her mask](else:)[winking towards you]. "I'm probably the best person in the galaxy to do that, after all. So... hit me!" [["Tell me... more about me."->CorTor]] [["So we were friends?"->CorFriends]] [["Tell me more about my job."->CorJob]] [["Do I have... family?"->CorFam]] [["Do we have any other resources to use?"->CorResources]]

"We *are* friends," Corinth corrects, immediately. "Grew up together! May not have been... you know, buddy-buddy all the time, but we both wanted to get off Tor Four together-- so we did! The way our jobs work we don't exactly get to hang out often, but we kept in touch, and when I heard you had missed your check-in time with corporate... that's when I was called in to find you!" [["Well, thanks for coming after me."->CorQ]] [["You didn't need to do that."->CorQ]]

"Oh yeah! Well, you might remember bits of this-- we work for Steris Trans-Galactic. It's a consortium, a big one, and if you want to be specific our department was in acquisitions. The universe is so big and full of different settlements, governments, and organizations that important things can often stay rather local. Our job was to find those things, new biotech advancements, rare plants, whatever-- and bring them to Steris. The pay isn't much better then decent, but the main perk is hard to beat: the opportunity to travel wherever you want! And that's what led you here, I guess. To Torei." [["That does sound familiar."->CorQ]]

"Not that I'm aware of," Corinth replies immediately, her finger flicking out to emphasize the point. "And I would know, I think. We grew up together, after all!" [[Had she not come, would anyone have missed you?->CorQ]]

"About you... right," Corinth folds one arm beneath her chest, the other leading up to her chin, which she taps in thought. "Well, you're from the colony world of Urzan Tor IV-- Tor Four to everyone else. So am I! It... isn't exactly an exciting place. Very frontier, which makes sense, it was only settled in the last colonization wave. Most people are homesteaders, the sort who will live on Tor Four their entire lives, you know? But we wanted something different. So when we hit majority we signed up with Steris Trans-Galactic, and that's how we became... prospectors!" [["I see."->CorQ]]

"Oh yeah," Corinth nods, only for her face to scrunch up. "Well... sorta, I guess. If we contact our employers, Steris, they provide the credits necessary to travel, for supples, lodgings, everything-- although obviously that comes out of the eventual bounty cuts we bring them in return. But the catch is that Torei is too isolated for that. Their credit network here is isolated, you have to exchange your chit for a Torean one upon arrival. And communication can be hard-- you basically need a contact, or contract with one of the Torean businesses, near the space elevator to send data." She sighs. "So we're pretty cut off down here. Once we make it up to the spaceport on the far end of the elevator, though? Shouldn't be a problem from there." (if: $CorCredits is false)["Oh! But I do have those fifty credits, still-- you can have them, if you want. JUst ask.] [["Good to know."->CorQ]]

Corinth looks to you, apparently quite willing to spend as much time as you need on the subject. "Anything else?" [["Tell me... more about me."->CorTor]] [["So we were friends?"->CorFriends]] [["Tell me more about my job."->CorJob]] [["Do I have... family?"->CorFam]] [["Do we have any other resources to use?"->CorResources]] [["That's it, actually. Let's talk about something else."->CorHub]]

You go over your time in the Club more thoroughly, the trials and tribulations that had led to your current issues with Aekora's form of law enforcement. It's a story that Corinth listens to with increasing worry. "They won't let you through the checkpoint to the Way Up with that record," she notes. "But... we already sort of knew that, I guess. We'll have to figure something out. We *must*. Right?" [["Right."->CorHub]]

"They're *after* you?" A hand rises to (if: $CorSlave is true)[Corinth's mouth, but her mask intervenes.](else:)[Corinth's lips, in shock.] "How did you get away from them? I thought the Ministry... well, you don't hear about many people getting away, or so I've heard. Why were they after you?" (if: $EscapePath is 2)[[["I slipped out the front door..."->CorWanted2]] (if: $EscapePath is 3)[[["I sort of... pulled a fire alarm..."->CorWanted2]]

"Arrested!? And they let you... walk out? They didn't... do anything to you? Why did they arrest you?" [["They put me into a cage..."->CorArrest2]] [["It doesn't matter what happened, they arrested me because..."->CorWanted2]] [["I'm... supposed to find other law-breakers, and turn them in, to perhaps reduce my sentence..."->CorArrestNarc]]

You explain the predicament you had been placed in, your caging alongside the other Truants. Corinth looks rather horrified at the entire story, at yet follows your every word as if with bated breath. Was she... enjoying the idea of being locked into such a situation? She doesn't comment on that, instead breaking from her state to lean in. "Why... were they after you, then?" [[Tell her.->CorWanted2]]

"Are you actually going to *do* that?" She asks, eyes wide. "Just... give yourself up, like that? They will enslave you! There... there has to be another way, right?" [["Yes, I think I'm going to turn myself back in, eventually..."->CorArrestNarcYes]] [["No way-- I'll find some way out of this."->CorArrestNarcNo]]

Corinth steps forward, slashing her hand down between you, as if to cut the very diea in two. "You can't! There must be some other way for you.(if: $CorSlave is true)[ And I couldn't come with you, do you realize that? We need to stay together. We *will* stay together.]" Only then does she seem to notice her hard-driving attitude. Stepping back, looking a little sheepish, she sighs. "I just meant... well... how did it happen, anyway? That they wanted to arrest you?" [[Tell her.->CorWanted2]]

"Good." She seems intensely relieved. "I'm certain you can find some other way to handle the situation, right?(if: $CorSlave is true)[ Going with them would split us up, anyway. I can't get across the border in this outfit... so you better not leave me behind!]" Collecting herself, Corinth eventually settles on a detail she hadn't asked about. "Why did they want you in the first place?" [[Tell her.->CorWanted2]]

(if: $CorSec is true or $CorDD is true)["Well..." It takes Corinth a moment to work up to it, but once *there* she doesn't hesitate. "When I first saw you, in that transit terminal, in laminate... I thought... well, I've *always* thought... Torei is a crazy place, right? And now that I've tried it, that maybe if you did want to stay... or if you were going to end up in a collar... what if I owned it? Owned **you.**" [["Own me?"->CorStayDom]]](if: $CorSlave is true)[It takes Corinth a moment to work up to it, but once *there* she doesn't hesitate. "When I first saw you, in that transit terminal, in laminate... I thought... well, I've *always* thought... Torei is a crazy place, right? And now that I've tried it, that maybe if you did want to stay... or if you were going to end up in a collar... what if I did too? To be a slave, together...?" [["Serve... together?"->CorStaySub]]](if: $CorSec is false and $CorDD is false and $CorSlave is false)["Well... honestly? I think the idea is a bit absurd." Without a hint of laminate upon her body, Corinth speaks very much as the offworlder she resembled. "You came here to make a deal, right? And that *obviously* fell through. You should be focused on getting off this planet, not... getting stucking deeper. Right?" If she had a bit more experience in laminate, perhaps she would think differently... but its too late for that now. [["...right."->CorHub]]]

(if: $CorSec is true or $CorDD is true)["Owning someone... owning **you**..." Corinth seems to be mulling the idea over, even pacing a bit in the laminate you had chosen for her. The design is a Torean staple, well suited for a freewomb. You sense she's being careful, but the way she runs her hands down her own hips? Perhaps your choosing this outfit for her makes a difference. "I don't think I could just... you know, *do* it. Settle down with you here, on Torei. I don't have anywhere near enough experience... that would take time to build up, months even..." [["A crazy idea. Nevermind."->CorHub]] (if: $AcadGreet is false)[["What if... we had the time?"->CorStayDomAcad]](if: $AcadGreet is true)[["Actually, there is this Academy..."->CorStayDomGo]]](if: $CorSlave is true)["Serving... alongside you?" Corinth seems to be mulling the idea over, even pacing a bit in the laminate slave uniform you had chosen for her. The design is a Torean staple, well suited for a collared woman. You sense she's being careful, but the way she runs her hands down her own hips? Perhaps your choosing this outfit for her makes a difference. "I don't think... I know I'm not cut out for that. This... terrible... wonderful uniform you chose for me has made that clear." [["I understand."->CorHub]]](if: $CorSec is false and $CorDD is false and $CorSlave is false)["Well... honestly? I think the idea is a bit absurd." Without a hint of laminate upon her body, Corinth speaks very much as the offworlder she resembled. "You came here to make a deal, right? And that *obviously* fell through. You should be focused on getting off this planet, not... getting stucking deeper. Right?" If she had a bit more experience in laminate, perhaps she would think differently... but its too late for that now. [["...right."->CorHub]]]

(if: $CorSec is true or $CorDD is true)["Serving alongside you... as a slave?" Corinth seems to be mulling the idea over, even pacing a bit in the laminate you had chosen for her. The design is a Torean staple, well suited for a freewomb. You sense she's being careful, but the way she runs her hands down her own hips? Perhaps your choosing this outfit for her makes a difference. "I'm sorry... but I couldn't. I can't imagine what it's like to be a slave on this planet, and I don't... want to try now. I hope you understand?" [["I guess."->CorHub]] [["Of course."->CorHub]] ](if: $CorSlave is true)["Serving... alongside you?" Corinth seems to be mulling the idea over, even pacing a bit in the laminate slave uniform you had chosen for her. The design is a Torean staple, well suited for a collared woman. You sense she's being careful, but the way she runs her hands down her own hips? Perhaps your choosing this outfit for her makes a difference. "I couldn't do it alone, I wouldn't *want* to do it alone... but the possibility of doing something like that, of staying here as... slaves..." She had said it aloud, and that seems to empower her. "I mean... I'm intrigued..." That said, the masked girl tips her head, as if in thought. "How... would we go about that, though? We wouldn't be... very valuable as we are. Without training, I mean." (if: $CorAcad is true)[[["There is this Academy, actually..."->CorAcadSlaves]]](if: $CorAcad is false)[[["Well, maybe I'll find something?"->CorAcadSlavesNo]]]](if: $CorSec is false and $CorDD is false and $CorSlave is false)["Well... honestly? I think the idea is a bit absurd." Without a hint of laminate upon her body, Corinth speaks very much as the offworlder she resembled. "You came here to make a deal, right? And that *obviously* fell through. You should be focused on getting off this planet, not... getting stucking deeper. Right?" If she had a bit more experience in laminate, perhaps she would think differently... but its too late for that now. [["...right."->CorHub]]]

"Serve you... as a slave?" You can almost see the shock run up her spine, settling through her limbs before she finally shakes the feeling out. Actually replying takes her a bit longer. "I... don't think I could do that. (if: $CorSec is true or $CorDD is true)[When I first saw you, in that transit terminal, in laminate... I thought... well, I've *always* thought... Torei is a crazy place, right? And now that I've tried it, that maybe if you did want to stay... or if you were going to end up in a collar... what if I owned it? Owned **you.**" [["Own me?"->CorStayDom]]](if: $CorSlave is true)[When I first saw you, in that transit terminal, in laminate... I thought... well, I've *always* thought... Torei is a crazy place, right? And now that I've tried it, that maybe if you did want to stay... or if you were going to end up in a collar... what if I did too? To be a slave, together...?" [["Serve... together?"->CorStaySub]]](if: $CorSec is false and $CorDD is false and $CorSlave is false)[Because... honestly? I think the idea is a bit absurd." Without a hint of laminate upon her body, Corinth speaks very much as the offworlder she resembled. "You came here to make a deal, right? And that *obviously* fell through. You should be focused on getting off this planet, not... getting stucking deeper. Right?" If she had a bit more experience in laminate, perhaps she would think differently... but its too late for that now. [["...right."->CorHub]]]

"If we had months...? I'm kind of afraid you don't, you know? I do, if I really had a reason to stay. If you got in trouble, for example... even got collared. I would do my best to try and buy you, I think. Not that I have many credits... but I would try." She tips her head in thought. "If only there was some way for *you* to stay here, for a few months. Perhaps get some training... if you really wanted to do something like this." Corinth still sounds a bit incredulous, but she's open to the idea at least. "Come back and talk with me again about this if you found a way to get that training, alright?" [["Will do."->CorHub]]

"An Academy?" Corinth asks, sounding intrigued. "Tell me more." You do. Veronica had presented you with an option, the path of voluntary slavery, to escape your predicament. What if Corinth bought you? "It would... be possible," she acknowledges. "With this warning, I could get my credits together, make sure I can outbid anyone at this auction you describe... and that would solve our other problems. I would have time to... get used to Torei, to the idea of owning *you*. And you would get training to be... valuable." She tips her head back and forth, as if weighing the options. "If you end up trying something else, failing to escape or whatever, I would still be prepared to... help you. So it's good you brought this up, if this is what you want. For me... to prepare to purchase you." [["It is. This is what I want."->CorOverride]] [["Actually... no, nevermind. Let me think about this."->CorOverrideNo]]

(set: $CorOverride to true)"Alright." That word sounds unconvinced, but Corinth notices that, digging in-- truly coming to terms with the prospect. "Alright! You do whatever you need to do then, I guess. Turn yourself in. Get arrested. Whatever. If you *do* end up at the Academy, I'll be waiting for you on the other side. Promise." [[A deal is made.->CorHub]]

"I understand," Corinth replies. "Completely. Just... if you want to talk about this again, if you need me to prepare... just let me know." [[Got it.->CorHub]]

"An Academy?" Corinth asks, sounding intrigued. "Tell me more." You do. Veronica had presented you with an option, the path of voluntary slavery, to escape your predicament. Inquiring about Corinth, the Academy spokeswoman had confirmed they took any sort of voluntary enrollment, with the caveat being they were not guaranteed to be placed into the same program. "That sounds... *wow*," your friend finally manages, afterward. "To be... collared like that? Here? I... I would be too afraid to do it alone, you know? But if you were there, even just through training..." She paces back and forth, trying to think it out, but the movement only shifts her plugs-- earning a quiet moan, but perhaps inducing her answer. "I would do it," she whispers, repeating it louder. "I would do it, yeah. If we enrolled together. Do you... want to do that?" [["Yes!"->CorAcadSlaves2]] [["Actually... let me think about it."->CorHub]]

"Yeah," Corinth replies. "If there was a way for us both to be trained... perhaps we could... try that? It's got to be better then being arrested by the Ministry of Truants, right?" She seems to be trying to justify a strong desire for a collar. Apparently giving her that slave suit had unlocked deeply buried feelings within her. [["If I find anything, I'll let you know."->CorHub]]

Approaching you suddenly, she wraps you into a hug, her full enclosure laminate so very slick and glossy. "Wonderful! Wow! Alright!" She steps back, allowing reality to reassert itself over her fantasies-- if only for a moment. "Obviously... this is kind of a one way trip, right? If we do this, there is no turning back. If there is anything you want to do around here, or in general... you know, because we'll be *slaves*, you should do that first." Corinth steps back. "So... ready?" [["Yes. Let's enroll."->CorAcadSlaves3]] [["Let me think on it some more."->CorHub]]

(set: $CorStat to 6)You can't see much of Corinth's face behind her mask, but you get the sense she's smiling as she reaches out, taking your hand in her's. "Lead the way." Guiding Corinth by the hand, you eventually return to Celeste Academy's quiet office-- and Veronica, still immaculate. She eyes Corinth readily upon entering, and even more aggressively once you explain your intentions. Questions follow, for both you and Corinth. Why were you seeking to enroll? Why do you want this? Do you understand you may not be kept together?" It all comes down to a singular question, given to you both. "Do you truly wish this?" [["Yes.->CorAcadSlaves4]]

Veronica holds your gaze for a long time, looking into your eyes, perhaps determining if you measured up. Her conclusion, when it comes, arrives suddenly-- she stands. A small desk is situated in the corner of the otherwise desolate room, and it is from that edifice that she retrieves a glassboard. "By signing this provisional contract, you both will be waiving all personal rights and responsibilities to Celeste Academy, pursuant to its foundational charter. This is effectively the same as being collared immediately, but we leave it open to provide for revisions that more closely suit your position going forward once we assign you a final role and begin training for that." She's reading of the glassboard, but turns it around to you now, a litany of text running in stark neon down the front-- until it ends with a singular line intended for a signature. Signing away one's liberty was a simple enough thing, on Torei. Offering it to you, she then pulls forth a pair of simple circles of silver, unadorned but clearly featuring a heavy lock on the back. Two collars. *Your* collar, and Corinth's. Even looking over the contract you can see it there, a gleaming promise in Veronica's hands as she asks perhaps the most important question of your life. "Do you submit?" [["...yes." Sign the board.->CorAcadSlaves5]]

Above you, the Academy recruiter holds the collar aloft-- as if to recognize the importance of this act-- before she lowers it. (if: $Servant is true)[Aligning it with your throat, just below the collar you had received at Club Lush,](else:)[Aligning it with your throat,] she closes it slowly, the interior band pulling tighter as she does, cinching so as to provide as tight an embrace as possible. When her hands withdraw it remains, just uncomfortable enough that its presence could never be forgotten. Veronica smiles from above you. "Welcome to Celeste Academy." Then she turns to Corinth. "Your turn." Your friend looks to you, looks to your new collar, swallows deeply... and then begins writing her name upon the glassboard. [[So close to the Way Up, but all but impossible to reach now...->CprEnrollPass4]]

Several hours later you lay on the small padded portion of a cell, Veronica having led you to the room located just behind the public area of the Academy's small refuge. You would be taken to Celeste's campus in the morning, and until then you would be kept here-- just another collared slave locked inside a cage, awaiting a fate she could no longer control. How had it come to this? Was that terror, existential and overwhelming, that you felt in your heart-- or a trembling *thrill*? Reaching up, you slowly run a finger along the silver restraint now locked to your neck, marking you readily as something less then human. You're... property now, of a sort. A student to be trained fully in the culture and expectations of this planet, to be shaped and molded into something truly... *Torean.* A creature of pleasure wrapped into laminate. At your side, Corinth sleeps fitfully, the silver collar around her neck so very bright. (set: $AcadBonus to 3) [[You're truly lost in laminate now.->AcademyStart]]

You explain the terms of the deal, Corinth listening intently to every word. "So... you trust this will work? And you have enough credits for this? It sounds expensive. At 450 credits apiece that would be 900 required, for the both of us." (if: $debt is > 899)[[["I trust this, and I have the 900."->CorShipAna2]]](else:)[[["I trust this, but I don't have 900 credits..."->CorShipAnaCred]]] [["I just intend for you to be shipped, so... 450 credits."->CorShipAnaNo]] [["Actually, let's put this on hold for a moment."->CorHub]]

You explain the terms of the deal, Corinth listening intently to every word. "So... you trust this will work? It does seem... pretty good that this Elizabeth is with the Liberty Society, and that she is doing this for free. You must have really helped her out." [["I trust this."->CorShipLiz2]] [["I just intend for you to be shipped..."->CorShipLizNo]] [["Actually, let's put this on hold for a moment."->CorHub]]

You explain the terms of the deal, Corinth listening intently to every word. (if: $TruantStat is 0)["So... you trust this will work? And you have enough credits for this? It sounds expensive. At 250 credits apiece that would be 500 required, for the both of us." (if: $debt is > 499)[[["I trust this, and I have the 500."->CorShipJan500]]](else:)[[["I trust this, but I don't have 500 credits."->CorShipJan500Fail]]] [["I just intend for you to be shipped, so... 250 credits."->CorShipJan500No]]](if: $TruantStat is 2)["So... you trust this will work? And you have enough credits for this? It sounds expensive. At 500 credits apiece that would be 1000 required, for the both of us." [["Janeck won't take me, it would just be you."->CorShipJan250No]]] [["Actually, let's put this on hold for a moment."->CorHub]]

You explain the terms of the deal, Corinth listening intently to every word. "So... you trust this will work? And you have enough credits for this? It doesn't sounds expensive. At 100 credits apiece that would be 200 required, for the both of us. But I'm worried... it sounds really risky, you know? And what if we're caught? Running like that would be... really bad." (if: $debt is > 199)[[["I trust this, and I have the 200."->CorRunTalk2]]](else:)[[["I trust this, but I don't have 200 credits..."->CorRunTalkFail]]] [["I just intend for you to do this, so... 100 credits."->CorRunTalkNo]] [["Actually, let's put this on hold for a moment."->CorHub]]

Corinth isn't here beside you, but the Wardrobe provides a virtually unlimited selection of options for you to run through, and recreating her situation-- in a slave suit, locked in for a few hours, paid for by you-- is easily done. The results, however, are unexpected. *Early removal of a slave suit involves a termination fee,* the Wardrobe warns. *This fee is tripled for short term confinement, as your settings have indicated have occured. There is a contract stripping fee, for the breaking of an agreed upon submission agreement between the suit wearer and the payer of the original suit's fines. These fees are also tripled, for given the lateness of the current day.* The bad news is summed up near the bottom, in bold letters: **Final Cost: 3,250 credits.** You nor Corinth could ever afford that! Clearly you will need to see out other options. [[It was worth a try.->CustomWard2]]

"Wow..." Corinth replies. "That's... a lot of credits! But that's great to hear! I don't have anything else holding me here, in Aekora or on Torei I mean... so I'm ready to go meet with your smuggler whenever you're ready. If you're also good to go, just let me know. Otherwise I can wait here." [["I'm ready."->CorShipAna3]] [["I need to finish some things."->CorHub]]

"Well... this is kinda a non-starter then, huh?" Corinth asks. "This Anastasia woman doesn't sound like the sort who would, you know, take a credit less. We can always discuss this again if you get the 900, though?" [["Sure."->CorHub]]

"Alone..." Corinth shakes her head. "I... trust you, I do. But I don't trust this Anastasia woman, alright? To be boxed up and shipped, as you describe... I would only do it with you." She takes a deep breath, or as much as her mask would allow. "You understand, right?" (if: $debt is > 899)[[["I understand, and I have the 900 for us both."->CorShipAna2]]](else:)[[["I understand, but I don't have 900 credits..."->CorShipAnaCred]]] [["I understand, but let's put this on hold for a moment."->CorHub]]

(set: $CorStat to 3)(set: $Ending to 8)Corinth nods, offering you her hand. "Lead the way, then." Together you cross the Customs Enclave, one last trip that ends with you on the second floor. There, within the cafe, you find Anastasia waiting where you had left her. She examines Corinth from her seat, but when she speaks her attention is all on you. "Two, then, for... my shipping service, I imagine?" [["Yes."->CorShip]]

"That's great to hear! I don't have anything else holding me here, in Aekora or on Torei I mean... so I'm ready to go meet with your contact whenever you're ready. If you're also good to go, just let me know. Otherwise I can wait here." [["I'm ready."->CorShipLiz3]] [["I need to finish some things."->CorHub]]

"Alone..." Corinth shakes her head. "I... trust you, I do. But I don't trust this Elizabeth woman, alright? To be boxed up and shipped, at the order of a woman I've never met, as you describe... I would only do it with you." She takes a deep breath, or as much as her mask would allow. "You understand, right?" [["I understand... so let's do it, together."->CorShipLiz2]] [["I understand, but let's put this on hold for a moment."->CorHub]]

Finding Elizabeth is easy enough, she's where you left her. Introducing Corinth is a bit harder, the Liberty Society member still as suspicious as you remember-- but reminding her of your previous help breaks the ice. Soon she's stepping away. "Follow." She takes the lead, blazing a path through the milling crowds. Instead of dancing around groups moving slower Elizabeth simply shoves through them, leaving several angry tourists in your wake-- but you do make good time. Crossing the Terminal you ascend the stairs to the second level together, then pivot towards a mostly empty cafe. (if: $SmugGreet is true)[You've been here recently, speaking to Anastasia, and it's towards she that Elizabeth aims.](else:)[A woman in a stark black catsuit sits alone at the cafe's center, sipping quietly from a cup of tea-- and it's towards she that Elizabeth aims.] The cooperative ally that had been mentioned. Or, less politely: smuggler. Waving for you and Corinth to stay back, Elizabeth speaks in a hushed tone, indicating you once-- then twice, the second time more aggressively. For a moment it seems the discussion is going against you, but in the end they come to some manner of understanding, a firm handshake sealing the deal. Afterward Elizabeth returns to you. "You're good to go. Tell the attendant at the counter there you want 'the slave's special', and she will take you for preparation." Her hand extends, a very offworlder means of saying goodbye. "Good luck." (set: $Ending to 10) [[Shake her hand. "Thank you."->CorProtestHelpLizShake]] [[You're still on Torei. Give her a parting reverence.->CorProtestHelpLizRev]]

"Alone..." Corinth shakes her head. "I... trust you, I do. But I don't trust this Janeck woman, alright? To be boxed up and shipped, as you describe... I would only do it with you." She takes a deep breath, or as much as her mask would allow. "You understand, right?" (if: $debt is > 499)[[["I understand, and I have the 500 for us both."->CorShipJan500]]](else:)[[["I understand, but I don't have 500 credits..."->CorShipJan500Fail]]] [["I understand, but let's put this on hold for a moment."->CorHub]]

"Alone..." Corinth shakes her head. "I... trust you, I do. But I don't trust this Janeck woman, alright? To be boxed up and shipped, as you describe... I would only do it with you." She takes a deep breath, or as much as her mask would allow. "You understand, right?" [["Well.. she won't take me!"->CorShipJan250No2]] [["I understand, but let's put this on hold for a moment."->CorHub]]

Finding Janeck is easy enough, she's where you left her. Introducing Corinth is a bit harder, the Liberty Society proving rather suspicious-- but reminding her of the credits at stake breaks the ice. Then Janeck clasps her hands together. "500 credits, then?" You offer your ID, which she presses to her *glass, confirming the transaction. "Good. Follow me, we just need to go upstairs." She takes the lead, blazing a path through the milling crowds. Instead of dancing around groups moving slower Janeck simply shoves through them, leaving several angry tourists in your wake-- but you do make good time. Crossing the Terminal you ascend the stairs to the second level together, then pivot towards a mostly empty cafe. (if: $SmugGreet is true)[You've been here recently, speaking to Anastasia, and it's towards she that Janeck aims.](else:)[A woman in a stark black catsuit sits alone at the cafe's center, sipping quietly from a cup of tea-- and it's towards she that Janeck aims.] The cooperative ally that had been mentioned. Or, less politely: smuggler. Waving for you and Corinth to stay back, Janeck speaks in a hushed tone, indicating you once-- then twice, the second time more aggressively. For a moment it seems the discussion is going against you, but in the end they come to some manner of understanding, a firm handshake sealing the deal. Afterward Janeck returns to you. "It's done. Tell the attendant at the counter there you want 'the slave's special', and she will take you for preparation." Her hand extends, a very offworlder means of saying goodbye. "Good luck." (set: $Ending to 11)(set: $debt to it - 500) [[Shake her hand. "Thank you."->CorProtestHelpJanShake]] [[You're still on Torei. Give her a parting reverence.->CorProtestHelpJanRev]]

Corinth shrugs. "Then... we find some other way. Simple as that." [[Is it really that simple?->CorHub]]

"Okay..." Corinth replies. "I'm still not sure about this... but I trust you. I don't have anything else holding me here, in Aekora or on Torei I mean... so I'm ready to go meet with your smuggler whenever you're ready. If you're also good to go, just let me know. Otherwise I can wait here." [["I'm ready."->CorRunTalk3]] [["I need to finish some things."->CorHub]]

"Alone..." Corinth shakes her head. "I... trust you, I do. But I don't trust this Anastasia woman, alright? To use this key, to run for it as you describe... I would only do it with you." She takes a deep breath, or as much as her mask would allow. "You understand, right?" (if: $debt is > 200)[[["I understand, and I have the 200 for us both."->CorRunTalk2]]](else:)[[["I understand, but I don't have 200 credits..."->CorRunTalkFail]]] [["I understand, but let's put this on hold for a moment."->CorHub]]

(set: $CorStat to 4)Corinth nods, offering you her hand. "Lead the way, then." Together you cross the Customs Enclave, one last trip that ends with you on the second floor. There, within the cafe, you find Anastasia waiting where you had left her. She examines Corinth from her seat, but when she speaks her attention is all on you. "Two, then, for... my key, I imagine?" [["Yes."->CorKey]]

Torei's influence compels you, that deep-seated desire to *submit* that drove so much of the planet's culture. Elizabeth was helping you, words alone would not suffice-- and thus one final reverence. On Torei, one's own freedom and liberty were the most valuable things a woman could have-- and yours had been deeply endangered. But now? A narrow path leads down from that jagged cliff of enslavement. All thanks to her. Corinth follows your lead, only a moment behind in her show of submissiveness. Elizabeth merely shakes her head. "Maybe you both belong *here*?" It's too late for that now, though. Stepping back, you turn to the cafe's counter, approaching the attendant who clearly does not grasp the gravity of the situation from your perspective-- she almost looks bored. "What will it be, ma'am?" The attendant asks. [["The... slave's special?"->CorShip5]]

Torei's influence compels you, that deep-seated desire to *submit* that drove so much of the planet's culture. Janeck was helping you, words alone would not suffice-- and thus one final reverence. On Torei, one's own freedom and liberty were the most valuable things a woman could have-- and yours had been deeply endangered. But now? A narrow path leads down from that jagged cliff of enslavement. All thanks to her. Corinth follows your lead, only a moment behind in her show of submissiveness. Janeck merely shakes her head. "Maybe you both belong *here*?" It's too late for that now, though. Stepping back, you turn to the cafe's counter, approaching the attendant who clearly does not grasp the gravity of the situation from your perspective-- she almost looks bored. "What will it be, ma'am?" The attendant asks. [["The... slave's special?"->CorShip5]]

Ascension, so long sought by terrestrial peoples, is accomplished with the barest of effort upon the Space Elevator. Rocketing towards orbit you watch Torei recede beneath you. In the universe beyond it was just one planet, strange and perhaps even dangerous, but isolated-- small. From this perspective its hard to imagine what it would have meant to stay down there. Willingly, or otherwise. You break from that dream of Torei as the carriage reaches its apex, allowing you to disembark. (if: $CorStat is 1 or 2 or 3)[At your side Corinth is already talking about checking in with your shared employer.](else:)[You walk alone, trying to remember more of what you had forgotten.] Perhaps that's why you miss him, following behind. He's young, unassuming, wearing a simple set of spectacles. At his side he carries along a rather large piece of luggage... [['You are... looking into the eye of impossible vastness-- and it has broken from its cosmic divinity to look back into you. Why would it do that?'->Ending]]

You've reached the end of Lost in Laminate! **Your ending:** (print: $Ending)/26 (if: $Ending is 1)[It may not have been the deal you had expected, but the offer proved too enthralling to resist. You're a Daemon now, a toy of the polar AIs that control your every waking moment. The pleasure you experience is incomprehensible, but to the Toreans and offworlders you pass on the street you will be an enigma at best, a creature of myth and danger at the very worst. Torei's ancient gods have claimed you entirely.](if: $Ending is 2)[You passed through the final checkpoint to freedom beyond, having successfully avoided the myriad of dangers and snags that could have kept you on Torei. Congratulations are in order, as this is one of the most difficult endings to achieve!](if: $Ending is 3)[Taking Anastasia's offer, and paying her high fee, you were smuggled out of Torei. The arrangement was high risk, and decidedly undignified, but you've reached the freedom of the Way Up. You made it!](if: $Ending is 4)[Taking Anastasia's discounted and untried means of escaping, you would have failed had you been dressed any differently-- but for once the regulation mask of your slave suit saved you, and ensured your escape into the international zone. It was a close run thing, but you've made it back into the greater galactic community-- and its myriad liberties and freedoms.](if: $Ending is 5)[Working with Anastasia you swapped places with a mysterious prisoner, earning a path to freedom in exchange for damning another woman to what seemed to be lengthy enslavement or torture. You're free now, able to return to the greater galactic community, but at a steep cost indeed.](if: $Ending is 6)[Having assisted Elizabeth in her attempt to smuggle a slave out from Grand Aekora, you forged a strong enough relationship with the Liberty Society to ensure their help when you found yourself in a similar position. Being shipped out of Torei like a packaged doll had hardly been dignified, but you're free to rejoin the greater galactic community, and in the end that's all that mattered.](if: $Ending is 7)[Circumstances put you in contact with Janeck, the Liberty Society's last-minute replacement for smuggling operations near the border. By paying her fee you escaped Torei shipped inside a crate, hardly the most glamorous means of travel, but the fact remains-- you're now free to rejoin the greater galactic community. You made it!](if: $Ending is 8)[Taking Anastasia's offer, and paying her high fee, you and your friend Corinth were smuggled out of Torei. The arrangement was high risk, and decidedly undignified, but you've reached the freedom of the Way Up. You made it!](if: $Ending is 9)[Taking Anastasia's discounted and untried means of escaping, you would have failed had you been dressed any differently-- but for once the regulation mask of your slave suit saved you, and ensured your escape into the international zone. It was a close run thing, but you've made it back into the greater galactic community-- and its myriad liberties and freedoms.](if: $Ending is 10)[Having assisted Elizabeth in her attempt to smuggle a slave out from Grand Aekora, you forged a strong enough relationship with the Liberty Society to ensure their help when you found yourself in a similar position. Being shipped alongside Corinth out of Torei like packaged dolls had hardly been dignified, but you're free to rejoin the greater galactic community, and in the end that's all that mattered.](if: $Ending is 11)[Circumstances put you in contact with Janeck, the Liberty Society's last-minute replacement for smuggling operations near the border. By paying her fee you and Corinth escaped Torei shipped inside a crate, hardly the most glamorous means of travel, but the fact remains-- you're now free to rejoin the greater galactic community. You made it!](if: $Ending is 12)[Having taken the vows of the Order of the Primrose, you have been inducted into one of Torei's ancient religious orders. As a slave you will serve alongside your Sisters in a constant state of submission and worship, seeking further insights into the doctrince of perception, and the sensuality at the core of Torean traditions. Torei has claimed you as its own, although you did go willingly.](if: $Ending is 13)[You have become one of the dozen or so slaves of Club Lush, working as a serving girl in the classicl Torean fashion. Your uniform is revealing, your hours long, and at night you're locked into a cage-- but perhaps that is what you always wanted? Either way, Torei has truly claimed you.](if: $Ending is 14)[You have become a conscripted Officer of the Ministry of Truants, joining the very system and organization that had oppressed and abused you. The average citygoer, be they Torean-born or offworlder, know to be careful in your presence, and most will hate you for the arrests the strict quotas set upon you require. Nevertheless you've escaped the total submission of a slave's life, and its requisite collar. Torei may not have claimed you, but you're making sure the wheels of commerce and slavery keep turning.](if: $Ending is 15)[Having passed through Celeste Academy, you have been enslaved and auctioned. You're a Governess now, a peculiar mix of dominatrix and slave, ruling over the lesser members of your Master's estate, but still quite collared and often restrained yourself. Torei has claimed you entirely, remaking you in its own image.](if: $Ending is 16)[Having passed through Celeste Academy, you have been enslaved and auctioned. You're a Soubrette now, a maid walking the fine line between coquettish teasing and outward overstepping. It's a role that sees you in glossy laminate every day, while your nights are often filled with punishments. Torei has claimed you entirely, truly remaking you in its image.](if: $Ending is 17)[Having passed through Celeste Academy, you have been enslaved and auctioned. You're a Consort now, the sort of escort and concubine intended to blend-in with, and ultimately serve, high society clients. You attended more galas and parties then most on Torei, and you've learned to maneuver the politics and pleasures of Torean nobility-- but the collar around your throat is always a stark reminder of your place. Torei has claimed you, remaking you in its glossy laminate image.](if: $Ending is 18)[Having passed through Celeste Academy, you have been enslaved and auctioned. As a Courier you spend each day locked from head to toe in laminate, transporting documents and notes for whoever paid for your (admittedly quite cheap) services. You've come to despise your mask, the pheremones it forces upon you making it hard to focus at times, but it does motivate you-- and besides, couriers don't need to think of much besides their route and cunts, right? Torei has claimed you, remaking you in its own image.](if: $Ending is 19)[Having passed through Celeste Academy, you have been enslaved and auctioned. You're a Catgirl now, kept heavily restrained and largely helpless, yet allowed the odd bit of mischievousness. Those born of Torei hardly consider you human, while offworlders cannot undestand how one can be treated as you are-- but that hardly matters, you think mostly with your cunt these days anyway. Torei has truly claimed you, remaking you in its own image.](if: $Ending is 20)[Having passed through Celeste Academy, you have been enslaved and auctioned. You're a Concubine now, one of the common variety used and abused in the cheaper establishments near the Way Up. Sex and pleasure define you now, but so do strict restraints. Torei has truly claimed you, remaking you in its own image-- at the very bottom of Torean society.](if: $Ending is 21)[Having passed through Celeste Academy, you have been enslaved and auctioned. You're one of the Academy's famous Dolls, a picture-perfect example of Torean femininity, focused entirely on sensuality. Without strict bindings you hardly know what to do with yourself, and having been given a full Torean libedo you often find it hard to think of anything beyond sex and pleasure. Torei has claimed you, remaking you in its idealized image.](if: $Ending is 22)[Having passed through Celeste Academy, you have been enslaved and auctioned. You're a Housewife now, auctioned to your husband to cherish and obey, a living example of what Torean training and discipline can produce. Managing the household and your spouse's pleasure are your only concerns, tasks you're quite well suited to. Torei has claimed you, remaking you in its image.](if: $Ending is 23)[Having passed through Celeste Academy, you have been enslaved and auctioned. As a Ceremonial Guard you travel beyond the strictures of Torei's laws and culture, but submit regardless, the discpline instilled in you as unyielding as it is harsh. From beneath the pane of your helmet you see many living with liberties you know long can imagine. Torei has claimed you, remaking you in its image.](if: $Ending is 24)[Having passed through Celeste Academy, you have been enslaved and auctioned. As a Ponygirl you live in a full harness, with bit in place, working long days performing menial labor. It's a simple life, and one that has toned your athletic body. It's hardly dignified of course, but you no longer care for such things. All you need is the whip on your flank to tell you what to do. Truly, Torei has claimed you, remaking you in its image.](if: $Ending is 25)[You may have rejected the Daemon's offer, but Mazos and Dahom are not so easily escaped-- and they claimed you in the end. You're a Daemon now, a toy of the polar AIs that control your every waking moment. The pleasure you experience is incomprehensible, but to the Toreans and offworlders you pass on the street you will be an enigma at best, a creature of myth and danger at the very worst.](if: $Ending is 26)[Having passed through Celeste Academy, you have been enslaved and auctioned. Yet your eventual buyer is well known to you, Corinth. She's proving to be as strict as she is loving, keeping you to the collar around your throat even as she allows you some small luxuries. Was this the relationship you had ever envisioned with her? It matters not-- you don't exactly have a choice anymore. And that excites you.](if: $Ending is 27)[You're a slave now, property of Isabella Naram-Sin. Submission and service define you, but you've come to enjoy the sharp, commanding tone of your Mistress, and living in the lap of luxury does have its advantages-- even if you experience most of it on your knees. Torei has claimed you, it seems, but you did go voluntarily.] **Ending credits:** (print: $debt) **Ending Status:** (if: $Status is 1)[(colour: #e61919)[FREEWOMB]](if: $Status is 2)[(colour: #e5e619)[SLAVE CODE]](if: $Status is 3)[(colour: #888)[SLAVE]](if: $Status is 4)[(colour: magenta)[DAEMON]](if: $Status is 5)[(color: orange)[TRUANT]](if: $Status is 6)[(color: navy)[TRUANT OFFICER]](if: $Status is 7)[(color: lime)[FREE]] **Did you find the runaway slave, Amadori?:** (if: $TruantStat is 0)[No. While you learned of the search from Officer Nikaido, in the end you pressed on from the city streets without addressing the matter.](if: $TruantStat is 1)[Yes. Following Officer Nikaido's instructions you found and eventually turned Amadori in, sending her back to the slavery she had so recently escaped.](if: $TruantStat is 2)[Yes. Following Officer Nikaido's instructions you found and eventually turned Amadori in, sending her back to the slavery she had so recently escaped. Going further, however, you also turned in Elizabeth.](if: $TruantStat is 3)[Yes, but having met with Elizabeth of the Liberty Society you instead lied to Officer Nikaido, saving the slave and helping her escape.] **How did you leave Club Lush?:** (if: $EscapePath is 0)[Free and Clear! Having avoided any entanglements you left without the Truant Officers bothering you.](if: $EscapePath is 1)[You gave yourself up, and were in turn arrested by the Ministry of Truants.](if: $EscapePath is 2)[You made a run for it, attempting to sneak past the Officers towards freedom.](if: $EscapePath is 3)[You pulled the fire alarm, enciting mass chaos in your attempt to escape the Club.] [[Did you make the right choices?->Ending2]]

"One moment, Mistress," the Operator returns, working upon her console. A short chain between her wrist cuffs ensures she cannot do much else. "Connecting you now..." It takes a few moments, but eventually the familiar face of your arresting Officer appears before you. "Oh, this should be good," she grins, tipping her cap back a bit. [["I have something to report."->NarcHub3]]

"Well?" Officer Nikaido demands, meeting your eyes through the video port of the comm device. "What have you found?" (if: $NarcJan is true or $NarcLiz is true)[[["I want to report a member of the Liberty Society."->NarcLib]]] (if: $NarcOfficer is true)[[["I want to report a Truant Officer working with criminals."->NarcVal]]] (if: $NarcAna is true)[[["I want to report a smuggler of slaves, named Anastasia."->NarcAna]]] [["Actually, let me get back to you." Hang up.->CustomHub]]

"Details?" The Truant Officer demands, to which you give. (if: $NarcLiz is true)[You tell her of Elizabeth, of her suggestion that you could be smuggled through the border-- a clear crime.](if: $NarcLiz is true)[You tell her of Janeck, of her suggestion that someone could be smuggled through the border-- if willing to pay. Such criminality could not be more clear.] "The Liberty Society," the Officer curses. "They're a kamned fool without a cage, always popping back up. Well-- at least my decision to give you a bit of leash has proven well founded, hm? Good girl. If this information proves solid, and we *will* check it, I can at least guarantee you my recommendation for merit at your trial. Honestly... you're going to get a collar, but that would translate to a headstart in that at least." She looks offscreen, before returning her attention to you. "That's not really enough to earn you an Officer's conscription, though, if that is what you're angling for. That's the only way you avoid full enslavement, after all, and for that I would need more." [["This is all I have."->Narc1Turn]] (if: $NarcOfficer is true)[[["I want to report a Truant Officer working with criminals."->NarcLibVal]]] (if: $NarcAna is true)[[["I want to report a smuggler of slaves, named Anastasia."->NarcLibAna]]] [["Actually, can I call you back? I'm sure I can find more for you!"->NarcReset]]

"Details?" The Truant Officer demands, to which you give. You tell her of Officer Valroux, who has been implicated in rather egregious examples of breaking the law-- including allowing the swapping of detainees! "Corruption in our own ranks" the Officer curses. "I'll have her in the Corrections by the end of night! Well-- at least my decision to give you a bit of leash has proven well founded, hm? Good girl. If this information proves solid, and we *will* check it, I can at least guarantee you my recommendation for merit at your trial. Honestly... you're going to get a collar, but that would translate to a headstart in that at least." She looks offscreen, before returning her attention to you. "That's not really enough to earn you an Officer's conscription, though, if that is what you're angling for. That's the only way you avoid full enslavement, after all, and for that I would need more." [["This is all I have."->Narc1Turn]] (if: $NarcAna is true)[[["I want to report a smuggler of slaves, named Anastasia."->NarcValAna]]] (if: $NarcJan is true or $NarcLiz is true)[[["I want to report a member of the Liberty Society."->NarcValLib]]] [["Actually, can I call you back? I'm sure I can find more for you!"->NarcReset]]

"Details?" The Truant Officer demands, to which you give. You tell her of the so-called 'Travel Agent' Anastasia, who has been admitted to facilitating the illegal passage of slaves beyond the border! "How... dare she," the Officer curses, if a bit strangely. "I'll... certainly get to the bottom of this! Well-- at least my decision to give you a bit of leash has proven well founded, hm? Good girl. If this information proves solid, and we *will* check it, I can at least guarantee you my recommendation for merit at your trial. Honestly... you're going to get a collar, but that would translate to a headstart in that at least." She looks offscreen, before returning her attention to you. "That's not really enough to earn you an Officer's conscription, though, if that is what you're angling for. That's the only way you avoid full enslavement, after all, and for that I would need more." [["This is all I have."->NarcAnaTrap]] (if: $NarcJan is true or $NarcLiz is true)[[["I want to report a member of the Liberty Society."->NarcAnaLib]]] (if: $NarcOfficer is true)[[["I want to report a Truant Officer working with criminals."->NarcAnaVal]]]

"That's how it will be then," the Officer replies, sounding almost... pleased? You sense its a rare state for her. Consulting something just beyond the viewport, she looks back to her comm device to meet your gaze. "There should be a hitching point nearby, sets of public cuffs you can lock yourself into. Just behind you? I'll keep this line open to make sure you lock yourself in-- I'd hate for you to run off on me. Once I see that I'll make my way over. Is that clear?" [["Yes, Officer."->Narc1Turn2]] [["Are public shackles necessary? I'll wait right here."->Nar1TurnNo]]

Nikaido sighs, sliding her cap back down on her head. The shadow of the brim leaves her gaze cloaked in shadow. "I'll forget everything you just told me... for your own benefit. You have time still, but don't waste it. You do *not* want me having to come find you." [[And with that, she breaks the connection.->CustomHub]]

Your second act as an informant is focused around Officer Valroux, who you had heard mentioned as assisting in the potential swapping of detainees. "One of the Ministry's own," the Officer sighs. "And one that has allowed her corruption to be so easily manipulated? I'll have her in Corrections before the night is through!" Nikaido pauses, considering for a moment. "You know-- you've done much better then I had expected. You're quite skilled a digging out criminals it seems, or perhaps you only have a healthy respect for our laws here on Torei? You certainly don't have a problem with turning in your fellow freewombs. That's good. We could use you, in the Ministry I mean. If that is everything you have to report, I can safely say you will have earned my recommendation for conscription into our service. Presuming that's what you want." (if: $NarcAna is true)[[["Actually... I have one more report. There is a smuggler here, named Anastasia..."->NarcLibValAna]]] [["That's all I have to report."->Narc2Turn]] [["Actually, I want more time to keep looking."->NarcReset]]

Your second act as an informant is focused around the so-called 'travel agent' Anastasia, who had admitted so readily to smuggling. "Anastasia" the Officer sighs. "I... see. Well, I'll make note of it." Nikaido pauses, considering for a moment. "You know-- you've done much better then I had expected. You're quite skilled a digging out criminals it seems, or perhaps you only have a healthy respect for our laws here on Torei? You certainly don't have a problem with turning in your fellow freewombs. That's good. We could use you, in the Ministry I mean. If that is everything you have to report, I can safely say you will have earned my recommendation for conscription into our service. Presuming that's what you want." (if: $NarcOfficer is true)[[["There is a third, actually. An Officer Valroux."->NarcLibAnaVal]]] [["That's all I have to report."->NarcAnaTrap]] [["Actually, I want more time to keep looking."->NarcReset]]

Your second act as an informant is focused around the so-called 'travel agent' Anastasia, who had admitted so readily to smuggling. "Anastasia" the Officer sighs. "I... see. Well, I'll make note of it." Nikaido pauses, considering for a moment. "You know-- you've done much better then I had expected. You're quite skilled a digging out criminals it seems, or perhaps you only have a healthy respect for our laws here on Torei? You certainly don't have a problem with turning in your fellow freewombs. That's good. We could use you, in the Ministry I mean. If that is everything you have to report, I can safely say you will have earned my recommendation for conscription into our service. Presuming that's what you want." (if: $NarcLiz or $NarcJan is true)[[["Actually I have one more report, regarding a member of the Liberty Society."->NarcValAnaLib]]] [["That's all I have to report."->NarcAnaTrap]] [["Actually, I want more time to keep looking."->NarcReset]]

Your second act as an informant is focused around (if: $NarcLiz is true)[Elizabeth,](else:)[Janeck,] of the Liberty Society-- and their apparent hand in the smuggling of slaves beyond Aekora's reach. "The Society again, kamn them" the Officer growls. "A good report, and one we will most certainly act upon!" Nikaido pauses, considering for a moment. "You know-- you've done much better then I had expected. You're quite skilled at digging out criminals it seems, or perhaps you only have a healthy respect for our laws here on Torei? You certainly don't have a problem with turning in your fellow freewombs. That's good. We could use you, in the Ministry I mean. If that is everything you have to report, I can safely say you will have earned my recommendation for conscription into our service. Presuming that's what you want." (if: $NarcAna is true)[[["I have one more report to make, about a smuggler named Anastasia..."->NarcValLibAna]]] [["That's all I have to report."->Narc2Turn]] [["Actually, I want more time to keep looking."->NarcReset]]

"That's how it will be then," the Officer replies, sounding almost... disappointed? You're not sure why. Consulting something just beyond the viewport, she looks back to her comm device to meet your gaze. "There should be a hitching point nearby, sets of public cuffs you can lock yourself into. Just behind you? I'll keep this line open to make sure you lock yourself in-- I'd hate for you to run off on me. I'll make a call afterward, then you will be dealt with. Is that clear?" [["Yes, Officer."->NarcAllThree2]] [["Are public shackles necessary? I'll wait right here."->NarAllThreeReal]] [["Actually... can we set this all aside, for a moment? I need to think about this."->NarcReset]]

Your second act as an informant is focused around (if: $NarcLiz is true)[Elizabeth,](else:)[Janeck,] of the Liberty Society-- and their apparent hand in the smuggling of slaves beyond Aekora's reach. "The Society again, kamn them" the Officer growls. "A good report, and one we will most certainly act upon!" Nikaido pauses, considering for a moment. "You know-- you've done much better then I had expected. You're quite skilled at digging out criminals it seems, or perhaps you only have a healthy respect for our laws here on Torei? You certainly don't have a problem with turning in your fellow freewombs. That's good. We could use you, in the Ministry I mean. If that is everything you have to report, I can safely say you will have earned my recommendation for conscription into our service. Presuming that's what you want." (if: $NarcAna is true)[[["I have one more report to make, about an Officer Valroux..."->NarcAnaLibVal]]] [["That's all I have to report."->NarcAnaTrap]] [["Actually, I want more time to keep looking."->NarcReset]]

Your second act as an informant is focused around Officer Valroux, who you had heard mentioned as assisting in the potential swapping of detainees. "One of the Ministry's own," the Officer sighs. "And one that has allowed her corruption to be so easily manipulated? I'll have her in Corrections before the night is through!" Nikaido pauses, considering for a moment. "You know-- you've done much better then I had expected. You're quite skilled a digging out criminals it seems, or perhaps you only have a healthy respect for our laws here on Torei? You certainly don't have a problem with turning in your fellow freewombs. That's good. We could use you, in the Ministry I mean. If that is everything you have to report, I can safely say you will have earned my recommendation for conscription into our service. Presuming that's what you want." (if: $NarcLiz is true or $NarcJan is true)[[["Actually... I have one more report. It's about a member of the Liberty Society..."->NarcAnaValLib]]] [["That's all I have to report."->NarcAnaTrap]] [["Actually, I want more time to keep looking."->NarcReset]]

"Actually," Nikaido interrupts, before you can really dig into your final report. "If you *really* want to report all this, perhaps its best we do this in person. I can make my way to you right now, if you do wish to make all these reports." She moves a bit closer to the viewport of her own comm device, filling it. "Is that what you're want?" [["Yes it is, Officer."->NarcAllThree]] [["Actually... let me think on it?"->NarcReset]]

"That's how it will be then," the Officer replies, sounding almost... pleased? You sense its a rare state for her. Consulting something just beyond the viewport, she looks back to her comm device to meet your gaze. "There should be a hitching point nearby, sets of public cuffs you can lock yourself into. Just behind you? I'll keep this line open to make sure you lock yourself in-- I'd hate for you to run off on me. Once I see that I'll make my way over. Is that clear?" [["Yes, Officer."->Narc2Turn2]] [["Are public shackles necessary? I'll wait right here."->Nar2TurnNo]]

Your agreement is met with an expectant look from Nikaido, who holds the comm line open as you cross over to the waiting point of restraint that she had mentioned. As promised, several sets of cuffs are provided, heavy laminate. Between them a heavy steel bar resides, connecting to each. Installing yourself would thus require you spread your legs to their very limit, but you don't really have another option. Lining yourself up, you snap one cuff around your ankle, then the other-- locks clicking shut audibly. Across the way Nikaido says something, but the words are lost to the distance. Presumably *'on my way'*, as evidenced by the call being terminated. [[All you have now is the wait.->NarcFail3]]

"Unacceptable," the Officer declares. "As a parolee, I do not want you running off while I focus on these other Truants. This is not a negotiation-- you will be in the those bindings, or I will not be coming. Then you're on your own, until I'm forced to come find you-- and you won't like that. So-- bind yourself. Is that clear?" [["Yes, Officer."->NarcAllThree2]] [["Actually... can we set this all aside, for a moment? I need to think about this."->NarcReset]]

Nikaido certainly takes her time to come retrieve you. Locked into your leg spreader, you have little else to do besides watch those passing by-- who in turn stare at you, so publicly bound. The monotony is broken by the occasional glance up, to the Way Up arching up into the sky, which slowly shifts color. Midnight passes, and thus the deadline of your ticket, now expired. "Ah, there you are," a voice greets. It's not Nikaido. [[You turn.->NarcFail4]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/eYFZt2O.jpg"> Nikaido certainly takes her time to come retrieve you. Locked into your leg spreader, you have little else to do besides watch those passing by-- who in turn stare at you, so publicly bound. The monotony is broken by the occasional glance up, to the Way Up arching up into the sky, which slowly shifts color. Midnight passes, and thus the deadline of your ticket, now expired. Its nearly morning before the Officer finally arrives however, strolling through the quiet Customs Enclave. "Ah, there you are," she greets, swinging a key upon a short chain around her finger. "Look at you-- the dutiful slave, waiting in bondage for her betters. I don't need to thank you, I know you did what you did to save your own skin... but I will live up to my word. Your work tonight will go on your permanent record, and maybe that will help you in your coming trial, or what comes after." (set: $AcadBonus to 1) She shrugs, clearly not all that concerned with such details. "And hey, because I'm feeling nice I won't even subject you to public display-- you know, like those girls in black where we last met? I'll just be taking you in, to a nice little Ministry cell. How does that sound?" [["Very good, Officer."->Narc1Good]] [["Whatever."->Narc1Bad]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/eYFZt2O.jpg"> Nikaido certainly takes her time to come retrieve you. Locked into your leg spreader, you have little else to do besides watch those passing by-- who in turn stare at you, so publicly bound. The monotony is broken by the occasional glance up, to the Way Up arching up into the sky, which slowly shifts color. Midnight passes, and thus the deadline of your ticket, now expired. Its nearly morning before the Officer finally arrives however, strolling through the quiet Customs Enclave. "Ah, there you are," she greets, swinging a key upon a short chain around her finger. "Look at you-- the dutiful slave, waiting in bondage for her betters. I don't need to thank you, I know you did what you did to save your own skin... but I will live up to my word. Your work tonight will go on your permanent record, and maybe that will help you in your coming trial... unless you want to avoid that altogether. By joining the Ministry?" (set: $AcadBonus to 1) [["What exactly does a Ministry of Truants Officer do?"->NarcWhat]] [["So... I wouldn't be a slave, as an Officer?"->NarSlave]] [["Would we be working together?"->NarNik]]

"Good girl," she replies, stepping up behind you. Gently taking your wrists, she guides them together behind your back. There you're cuffed, only then does she undo the spreader bar. "Come on then, Truant," she grins, a hand firmly on your shoulder. "Your collar awaits." [[Looking up, you get one last glance of the Way Up.->NarcTrial]]

"Bad girl" she replies, stepping up behind you. Roughly taking your wrists, she guides them together behind your back. There you're cuffed, only then does she undo the spreader bar. "Prison will teach you manners, I suppose. Come on then, Truant," she grins, a hand firmly on your shoulder. "Your collar awaits." [[Looking up, you get one last glance of the Way Up.->NarcTrial]]

Nikaido crosses her arms below her chest. "An Officer of the Ministry of Truants is primarily tasked with enforcing the laws of the Ringdom to which she is assigned. Given this is Aekora, you would have full lawful and procedural powers. That means arresting anyone in violation of the laws, and punishing them as appropriate. Sometimes that means delivering correction on the street, as you see fit. Often that means bringing them in, for trial, the Machinery of Corrections-- or both." [["So... I wouldn't be a slave, as an Officer?"->NarSlave]] [["Would we be working together?"->NarNik]] [["I don't want to be an Officer, I'll settle with a trial and your note of good behavior."->Narc2Auction]] [["Alright, Officer Nikaido. I'll serve as a Truant Officer."->NarcOfficer]]

"Correct," Nikaido replies. "But you would not be free, either. Conscript Officers have firm restrictions on their manner of living, their free time, and of course their work. You can eventually work these off, much like an indentured servant, but you will be held to them until then. That means full arrest quotas. Fail to make *those*, and the commissioned Officer to who you are assigned will ensure you are punished for such poor work." She smiles. "My squad *always* makes its quotas, or my Officers wish they had." [["What exactly does a Ministry of Truants Officer do?"->NarcWhat]] [["Would we be working together?"->NarNik]] [["I don't want to be an Officer, I'll settle with a trial and your note of good behavior."->Narc2Auction]] [["Alright, Officer Nikaido. I'll serve as a Truant Officer."->NarcOfficer]]

"Almost certainly. Each conscripted Officer is assigned to a commissioned Officer, which I am. You would be serve beneath me, as I will. And I like to think of myself as fair with my girls. Punishment and correction are only given when you deserve it, and I do allow them moments of pleasure on occassion. It's a better life than most slaves endure, I can assure you of that." [["What exactly does a Ministry of Truants Officer do?"->NarcWhat]] [["So... I wouldn't be a slave, as an Officer?"->NarSlave]] [["I don't want to be an Officer, I'll settle with a trial and your note of good behavior."->Narc2Auction]] [["Alright, Officer Nikaido. I'll serve as a Truant Officer."->NarcOfficer]]

"A poor choice, but yours to make," she replies, stepping up behind you. Gently taking your wrists, she guides them together behind your back. There you're cuffed, only then does she undo the spreader bar. "Come on then, Truant," she grins, a hand firmly on your shoulder. "Your collar awaits." [[Looking up, you get one last glance of the Way Up.->NarcTrial]]

"The proper choice," Nikaido concludes, with a decisive nod. "Good. It will take a few weeks to get all the paperwork taken care of, and then there will be your training, but you will be in uniform quite soon." Walking behind you, she gently guides your wrists together, then links them behind your back with a set of cuffs. Only then does she undo your spreader bar, allowing you the freedom to walk as she guides you, a firm hand on your shoulder. "Come on then, Cadet," she grins. [[Looking up, you get one last glance of the Way Up.->Officer End]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/rPZKbdc.jpg"> Dawn approaches, and with it your deadline. A conscripted Officer who missed her quota could often have it worse then the Truants she was supposed to bring in, you've learned that over these last few months. But you're close-- needing only this last collar. So why are you staring at the dead end of an alley? (set: $Strike to 0)(set: $Status to 6) You followed her here, your mark, after she ran. Offworlders often proved rather ungainly in Torean-style heels, but she had set a good pace in your footrace, turning the corner into this alley just ahead of you. And now she's disappeared. You have to work quickly, find her-- take too long and she *will* get away. [[Find her!->Officer2]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/y2r4ljL.jpg" width="35%" height="35%"> Anastasia, in her black catsuit. She doesn't look happy. "When we first met," she begins, ignoring your confusion. "What did I tell you? Warn you?" [["I... don't remember?"->NarcFail5A]] [["To not... fuck with you?"->NarcFail5]]

"Think *harder*," she snaps, slapping you sharply across the face. (if: $Slave is true)[Your mask thankfully absorbs the blow.](else:)[Your cheek smarts in her wake, prodding you to remember.] [["To not... fuck with you?"->NarcFail5]]

"To not fuck with me," Nikaido repeats, nodding. "And what did you do? You tried to fuck with me. Did you think I wouldn't know, if you tried to turn me into the Ministry of Truants? I told you, I *told* you that I own them around here. They need me. Every port needs its back door, and if a few slaves slip out it who cares? Nikaido doesn't, that's why she called me." She lets the name drop take its due course, before snapping her fingers together. "Arms behind your back." [["What is happening? Where is Nikaido?!"->NarcFail6A]] [["I'm sorry, I didn't know!"->NarcFail6B]] [[Place your hands behind your back.->NarcFail6]]

"I *told* you," Anastasia snaps back. "She's not coming. You tried to turn me in, so she called me. Now you're just a good little girl who tried too hard. Arms behind your back." [["I'm sorry, I didn't know!"->NarcFail6B]] [[Place your hands behind your back.->NarcFail6]]

"It's too late for that," the smuggler replies. "This entire thing only works because everyone has mutual respect. If the Ministry thinks I'm weak, they would pounce on me. So, sometimes, I need to make an example." She gestures towards you. "Arms behind your back." [["What is happening? Where is Nikaido?!"->NarcFail6A]] [[Place your hands behind your back.->NarcFail6]]

Submitting, you move your arms behind your back. Anastasia follows, producing a pair of cuffs that she uses to secure them there-- making your helplessness even more apparent. Afterward she returns to a position before you, a *glass* device held in her hand. Tapping out a few commands, the spreader bar holding your legs apart trembles, the center portion moving upward, a pole emerging. Its tipped with a (if: $Plugs is true)[concave surface, clearly intended to come up between your legs, and thus against the plugs you already bear.](else:)[a pair of phallic spears. They could only have one purpose.] "You're not getting Nikaido's offer," Anastasia continues, meanwhile. "Whatever it was. No-- you're going to be on display here, as a warning to others for a few days. Then you're going back to the Ministry, for the full treatment. Trial, probably enslavement-- and I'm going to make sure there is a nice, big, black mark on your record." [["Stop whatever you're doing!"->NarcFail7A]] [["A... black mark?"->NarcFail7B]]

"No," Anastasia smiles. "I don't think I will." [["What about.. this black mark?"->NarcFail7B]]

"Freewombs are always sent to the Academy, for training, when they're enslaved. I can't control what they do with you there, but I *can* have you start with a nice demerit on your record. You in a collar will be enough, but here's hoping you end up as a mindless ponygirl, or a fucktoy. I don't really care." Between your legs the rising bar reaches the meeting of your thighs. (if: $Plugs is true)[There hard nubs press against your plugs, driving them deeper into you.](else:)[There Anastasia assists in their installation, eventually allowing them to continue their rise, pressing deep into your womanhood and rear.] The sensation of being filled, of being taken, only grows more intense with every passing moment. Just as you think it cannot get worse it *does*, as your feet leave the ground, putting your entire weight upon the plugs and the narrow bit of attending metal that supported them. [[You cannot help but squirm.->Narc8]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/R9IFbAt.jpg" width="35%" height="35%"> As your feet leave the ground your new predicament becomes clear, to be impaled upon the plugs inside you, then lifted up and put on public display-- and Anastasia had suggested she would leave you like this, for days. "How does that feel, bitch?" Anastasia sneers. [["Please... I'll do anything."->Narc9Please]] [["I can't, I can't! Let me down!"->Narc9No]] [["It feels... good..."->Narc9Yes]]

Your pleas fall on deaf ears. Instead Anastasia steps closer, openly caressing your chest, then running a finger along your chin. With your arms bound, you are helpless before her. "Enjoy your last few days of freedom," Anastasia declares, turning from you with a little wave. "The Officers will come for you in a few days." [[And with that she is gone.->Narc10]]

The smuggler sighs. "Should have known you would be too much of a wet cunt for this to be a punishment-- at first. That's why you're going to stay right there, for a few days. So-- enjoy your last few days of freedom," Anastasia declares, turning from you with a little wave. "The Officers will come for you in a few days." [[And with that she is gone.->Narc10]]

You can struggle, but that only leads to a slight rocking, your intruders answering with pangs of aching pleasure between your legs. Nor can you escape the attention your very public situation produces, especially in a place so near the Way Up. Tourists gawk by the dozens, crowds building for awhile around you with every newly arrived elevator carriage. It's a fate you're forced to endure for a few days, just as Anastasia had warned. After that they come for you, Officers of the Ministry, but only to clap you in further restraints, to take you away as a Truant. Prison, a trial, and whatever came beyond that awaits. (set: $AcadBonus to 2) [[Don't fuck with Anastasia.->NarcTrial]]

The pulse between your legs is mild, but any response from your clit piercing demanded attention. Turning on the floor of Club Lush, you glance about, the HUD built into your glasses highlighting the table that had called you. Making your way to them, a Torean-born couple who you have come to recognize as regulars, you can see their drinks have been emptied. (set: $Strike to 0) [["Refills, I imagine?"->LushRefill]] [[Perform a greeting reverence.->LushRev]]

"I told you the Offworlder wouldn't be respectful, the woman says to her husband with a smirk. "A proper Torean would have lifted her skirt." The man nods, but turns your way, two fingers extended on his gloved hand. "Another Lash for me, and a seltzer for her. Blueberry?" He looks to his other half, the woman shaking her head. "Cranberry then." "And do hurry that cute little ass," the woman adds in. [["Of course, Master."->LushEnd4]]

Reaching down, you grab the hemline of your skirt, lifting it to more fully reveal your panties beneath. Matched with a bowing of your head and slight curtsy, its a picture perfect display of Torean submission. (set: $Strike to it + 1) "Consider me impressed," the woman muses, looking to the man. "Apparently you *can* teach an offworlder a few things. Certainly her collar helps, hm?" The man nods, but turns your way, two fingers extended on his gloved hand. "Another Lash for me, and a seltzer for her. Blueberry?" He looks to his other half, the woman shaking her head. "Cranberry then." "And do hurry that cute little ass," the woman adds in. [["Of course, Master."->LushEnd4]]

Backing off from the table you cross Club Lush's floor to the booming beat of the band performing upon its stage, strobe lights roaming freely across the patrons in laminate-- and your own tight dress. Approaching the bar you find its tender busy, forcing you to wait-- slaves were always addressed last. But he does eventually find the time for you, his smile gentle as he approaches. You know him, how could you not? Club Lush's owner had been rumored to work the bar, and now you know that to be true, as he-- and thus *your* owner-- seemed to find the work amusing. "What do you need, dear?" He asks, running a rag along the glass top. [["Lash and seltzer, cranberry."->LushDrinkRight]] [["Lash and seltzer, blueberry."->LushDrinkWrong]]

"Got it," he replies, already reaching beneath the bar for fresh glasses. Seating them upon a silvered tray he begins filling them, but he's good enough to look to you. (set: $Strike to it + 2) "How are things going, so far?" [["It's busy tonight!"->LushNoMaster]] [["Very good, Master."->LushMaster]] [["I'm doing my best..."->LushNoMaster]]

"Got it," he replies, already reaching beneath the bar for fresh glasses. Seating them upon a silvered tray he begins filling them, but he's good enough to look to you. "How are things going, so far?" [["It's busy tonight!"->LushNoMaster]] [["Very good, Master."->LushMaster]] [["I'm doing my best..."->LushNoMaster]]

You feel it before even noticing his hand had shifted to the bar's control panel, but the result is unavoidable: a sharp shock, enamating from the piercing in your clit, a Club Lush standard. Finishing off the requested drinks, your owner slides the tray to you. "You will remember your place, is that clear, slave? Everything should end with *Master.*" Having fought the urge to place your hands between your legs, defense impossible against such shocks, you're forced to simply nod your understanding as you take up the tray. [["Yes, Master.->LustEnd5]]

You feel it before even noticing his hand had shifted to the bar's control panel, but the result is unavoidable: a sharp spike of pleasure, enamating from the piercing in your clit, a Club Lush standard. Finishing off the requested drinks, your owner slides the tray to you. "That was for calling me *Master*. You're taking well to that collar. Keep up the good work." Having fought the urge to place your hands between your legs, defense impossible against such 'rewards', you're forced to simply nod your understanding as you take up the tray. [["Yes, Master.->LustEnd5]]

"Remember to work your hips more, as you walk," he suggests, as you turn back around. Nevertheless you can feel his eyes upon you as you retreat, and that's enough incentive to follow his request-- you shimmy your hips seductively, carefully placing each foot before each other on your way across the floor. Your patrons certainly seem to notice the change, both eyes landing upon you as you reach their table. Setting the tray down with the flourish you have been taught, you stand back. (if: $Strike is 2 or 3)["Well, she got it right," the woman notes, taking a sip from her drink. "I think she deserves a bit of pleasure, hm?" The man nods, but looks to you first. "Is that what you want? A reward, as you deserve? A little vibe on your clit?" (if: $Strike is 3)[(set: $Strike to 2)] [["I very much would like that, Master..."->Lust6Vibe]] [["If that is what you think I deserve, Master..."->Lust6Vibe]] [["...no, Master. I'm fine."->Lust6Shock]]](else:)["This is not what I asked for," the woman notes, having taken a sip from her drink. "This is blueberry... and I ordered cranberry, did I not?" The man nods, but looks to you first. "I'm going to shock your clit," he says simply. "Which you deserve." [["I'm sorry, Master..."->Lust6Shock]] [["Please, I'll fix it!"->Lust6Shock]]]

Reaching to the small console that each table bore, the man depresses his finger upon it. You're rewarded with a sharp purr of vibration between your legs, riding your most sensative of nerves straight up your spine. A small moan slips from your lips as your feet momentarily twist inward, standing pidgeon-toed as you hold a hand to your skirt-- just barely fighting the urge to rub further at your clit. "Remember to thank us," the woman smiles from her seat. [["Thank you for the pleasure, Mistress."->Lust7]] [["Please Mistress, may I cum?"->Lust7Cum]]

Reaching to the small console that each table bore, the man depresses his finger upon it. You're rewarded with a sharp burn of arching pain between your legs, riding your most sensative of nerves straight up your spine. A small moan of distress slips from your lips as your feet momentarily twist inward, standing pidgeon-toed as you hold a hand to your skirt-- just barely fighting the urge to rub further at your clit. "Remember to thank us," the woman smiles from her seat. [["T-Thank you, for the correction, Mistress."->Lust7]] [["I'm s-sorry..."->Lust7Sorry]]

"Good girl," they smile in unison. Yet even as they speak, you feel your piercing pulse again-- a quick glance revealing the back door's foyer highlighted, a greeter needed. The couple you're currently with have turned away, allowing you to perform a second reverence in short order, then turn and leave. Making your way to the foyer, you find a man staring in stark wonder at Lush's cacophony of Torean excess. The music, the sounds, the women-- you're particularly representative of the latter as you step up to him in your shiny laminate uniform, Club Lush's standardized greeting already on your lips. [["Allow me to welcome you to Club Lush, Master. As a slave of this establishment, please allow me to service you in whatever manner you deem me capable of..."->Lust8]]

"Wet little thing, isn't she?" The man laughs, running a hand along the stocking covering your thigh. "I fear our controls won't allow us that," the woman explains, after taking another sip of her drink. Even for a slut like you. But I am still waiting for you to remember your manners, did we not give you a reward? [["Thank you for the pleasure, Mistress."->Lust7]]

"Not a very bright slave, is she?" The man laughs, running a hand along the stocking covering your thigh. "You're going to get another shock," the woman explains, after taking another sip of her drink, "unless you thank us for shocking you once already." [["T-Thank you, for the correction, Mistress."->Lust7]]

"Holy hells..." the man replies, still turning in a slow arc. He's wearing laminate, but clearly looks uncomfortable in it. A tourist, freshly arrived, you determine easily. He's a bit late in noticing you were speaking to *him*, and when he looks your way he does a double-take, both trying to avoid staring and proving remarkably incapable of it. "H-Hi..." he manages, eyes widening as he glimpses your panties. "I think... I took I tried the high dive first, and that's a bad idea, if you know what I mean..." [["You do not need to stay if you're uncomfortable, Master."->LustLeave]] [["Surely not, Master-- you just need a guiding hand. Allow me."->LustSed]]

"No, no," the man says, breaking away from you. "This was a mistake... I need to take this whole... Torei thing a bit slower, I think. Thank you, uh... ma'am, but I really need to be going." He's gone, back out the door. It's not a good look, losing a patron so quickly, but you have other concerns-- other tables to serve. Focusing on them the rest of the night passes quickly, until you're seeing out the last utterly drunk customer before closing the front door and locking it. Your feet are aching from being in such heels all night, your laminate is scuffed and less than glossy in a few places, and you're quite hungry-- but your duties are not over. Cleaning follows, as a slave you join with the other uniformed girls in collecting glasses, scrubbing the floors, and otherwise preparing Lush for another opening the coming evening. Those who merely worked for the Club, the bouncers and bartenders, the support staff-- they watch, even dirtying a few more glasses you're forced to wash before departing as well. In their wake only Kaleb remains, two fingers held to his mouth producing a sharp whistle. "Line up, girls! Presentation poses, if you would." [[You hurry to comply, joining the line before him, legs spread and arms behind your back.->Lush11]]

"I really should le-- well, I mean..." he blushes adorably, biting his bottom lip as he looks to you again. There is desire in those eyes, clear as day. "I guess I'm just new, to Torei I mean..." *That was obvious.* [[Take his hand in yours. "Come then, allow me...?"->LushTable]] [[Step closer to him. "There is no rush, Master."->LustStep]]

He nearly takes your gloved hand, but pulls back at the last second-- struggling to commit himself. "I... no, I should really go..." [[Let him go, pressing patrons is frowned upon afterall.->LustLeave]] [[Step closer, hold him here. "I'm here to serve Master, however you like."->LustStep]]

Your step closer nearly startles him, as if afraid to step upon social lines he did not understand. Still, he looks down at you, absolutely fixated on your polite smile. "I'm not... I'm not your Master..." [[Press up against him. "You're on Torei, Master. And I'm a slave. This is just respectful."->LushPress]] [[Take his hand, move him towards a table. "You need to stop worrying, Master."->LustLeave]]

Your breasts, covered by the slick laminate of your uniform, press gently against his chest. Just above your hands join them, palms against his pectorals, so strong and masculine despite his timidity. You can feel his breath catch in his throat, yet he remains still, as if waiting to see what you would do next. [[Guide his hands upon your body.->LushGuide]] [[Kiss him lightly, on the cheek.->LushKiss]]

Carefully you slide your hands to his shoulders, then run down his biceps. Finding his wrists, you seize them with your gloved hands, and then slowly shift them towards you. Guiding him, you settle his hands upon your waist, just above where your skirt flared. He openly marvels, but instincts override his reservations and he takes over from there. Exploring your tight waist he moves down your hips, over your skirts and petticoat before gliding underneath. Only when his palms are upon your rear, holding you possessively, does he look back to your eyes. [["There we are. Welcome, again, to Club Lush, Master."->Lush10]]

Carefully you lean in, moving your hands up his shoulders to his neck, where one gloved hand slides behind his head to help bend him down-- into reach. Your pink-painted lips make contact gently, one of your legs rising coquettishly behind. When you pull back he stares at you wide-eye-- then breaks from his reservations, finally. His hands advance, exploring your tight waist before he moves down your hips, over your skirts and petticoat before gliding underneath. Only when his palms are upon your rear, holding you possessively, does he look back to your eyes. [["There we are. Welcome, again, to Club Lush, Master."->Lush10]]

"Thank you... slave." (set: $Strike to it + 5) He smiles, matching your own, as you eventually break from the embrace-- and guide him to a table. The man may have been skittish, but he proves to have deep pockets, spending lavishly for the rest of the evening. He eventually leaves just before dawn, utterly spent, and incredibly drunk. Still, you provide a parting kiss when requested, seeing him out before closing the front door and locking it. Your feet are aching from being in such heels all night, your laminate is scuffed and less than glossy in a few places, and you're quite hungry-- but your duties are not over. Cleaning follows, as a slave you join with the other uniformed girls in collecting glasses, scrubbing the floors, and otherwise preparing Lush for another opening the coming evening. Those who merely worked for the Club, the bouncers and bartenders, the support staff-- they watch, even dirtying a few more glasses you're forced to wash before departing as well. In their wake only Kaleb remains, two fingers held to his mouth producing a sharp whistle. "Line up, girls! Presentation poses, if you would." [[You hurry to comply, joining the line before him, legs spread and arms behind your back.->Lush11]]

"Well," Kaleb grins, clasping his hands together. "Another successful night, hm? But this one was particularly special, I think. Given it was our new girl's first night." He steps before you. (if: $Strike is 0)["And what a poor night it was, I'm afraid. I received complaints from a couple that you failed to show them due respect, and then mistakenly brought them the wrong order? This is most unacceptable, I'm sure you know that." He uses his glass to shock you, *hard*. The pain lances through your womanhood, drawing the strength from your legs, sending you to your knees. "You will need to do better, going forward, he notes. "Another night like this, and I will give you one off-- in a corrections chair, edging you to the point of climax so long you truly start thinking with your cunt. That's what I want from you, after all. Your purpose here is to be pleasing and pleasurable. Is that clear?" [["Y-Yes Master."->Lush12]]](if: $Strike is 1 or 2)["And it proved to be a passable night, I suppose. There weren't any complaints against you, and your clit didn't report too many punishment shocks, but your sales do leave something to be desired. You will need to work on that, going forward. Your purpose here is to be pleasing and pleasurable. Is that clear?" [["Yes, Master."->Lush12]]](if: $Strike is > 4)["And it proved to be an *impressive* night, I must admit.(if: $Strike is 7)[ A couple reported good service, well done and thorough. Good. But the main event, so to speak?] The young man who spent considerable time here, a tourist if I've ever seen one, helped our newest slave pull in the largest share of drink sales tonight! Let's give her a round of applause, girls?" The rest of your fellow slaves clap, but its Kaleb that gives you the true reward-- a nice long activation of your clit piercing, send to *reward*. The pleasurable sensations rage through your womanhood, causing your legs to quiver then give out, forcing you to kneel. Yet the reward continues, driving you closer and closer to sweet release, orgasm-- only for your Master to halt it there. Wet and moaning, you look up to him. "A couple more nights like this, and I might let you cum," he smiles. "Do you want that, slave?" [["Yes, Master!"->Lush12]]]

It may feel like night, deep in the backrooms of Club Lush, but the clock upon the wall announces it to be just passed noon-- and thus your curfew. Along with the other slaves you've been returned to your individual cages, the doors locked, the time yours as you will. Without much to do, and knowing the coming night would see you working the Club's floor again, most of the other slaves are already asleep. You lie away on your small cot however, one hand laying upon your waist, the other running a finger along your collar. (set: $Ending to 13) This is it: your life going forward. Nights spent serving in the bar, coaxing money from tourists and Toreans alike. Mornings cleaning. And the day? Reserved for sleep, as best you could find it while still in full uniform. Master Kaleb will send you through the Wardrobe Device come evening, to refresh your outfit, but you best get used to laminate-- you'll be wearing it near constantly, going forward. Who could have imagined this would be how it would end? That morning, now long ago, where you had awoken chained to your own bed, memory full of holes but free. Now? Now you're just another slave on Torei, lost in laminate... [[Sleep now, you will be back on your heels come nightfall.->Ending]]

The alleyway may be missing its truant, but its not empty. To your left a dumpster is pushed up against the wall, while to your right a door is boarded up. Directly before you several discarded laminate shealfs lay haphazardly upon the floor. (set: $Ending to 14) [[Search that dumpster!->OffDump]] [[Check that boarded door!->OffDoor]] [[What are these shealfs?->OffShef]]

Torean culture recycled most everything: food, laminate, materials of all sorts. With how resource poor the planet remained it had long been a necessity, and in this instance at least keeps you from sullying your uniform as you quickly dig through what little could be found in the dumpster. There is no truant to be found, however. (set: $Strike to it + 1) [[Check that boarded door!->OffDoor]] [[What are these shealfs?->OffShef]]

"Wood" and "trees" were largely foreign to Torei's environment, and thus its perhaps not very surprising that the boards used to seal the disused door are flash-forged laminate, thick and heavy, hard to break. Hard enough in fact that you cannot remove them with a sharp yank, and they most certainly haven't been shifted in the last few minutes. Your truant is not here. (set: $Strike to it + 1) [[Search that dumpster!->OffDump]] [[What are these shealfs?->OffShef]]

Torei favored laminate for its aesthetic look, of course, but simple economics defined its use as well: it remained by far the cheapest material on Torei, used for all manner of purposes. These appear to have formed something like a box or two once upon a time, but ripped apart and exposed to the elements its mostly just trash now, utterly useless. But as you pull away the battered laminate you find something *else*. A manhole cover, presumably leading to the local transit tunnels. Your quarry must have fled downward! (set: $Strike to it + 1) [[Follow her!->OffSewer]]

The manhole must have been open for your Truant to have fled so quickly down it, an ordinance violation you may very well have busied yourself with had you not more important things to worry about. As it is you pull the grate open, heeled shoes hooking into each rung as you quickly clamber down. Dismounting, you pull forth a small *glass* device, flicking it into action. Light springs forth, although you would only need it heading one direction-- to your left the way is dark, pitch black even. To your right however light can be seen in the distance. You must pick a direction. At the very least you know your prey did not have a flashlight herself. [[Go left, down the dark path!->OffDarkSewer]] [[Go right, down the light path!->OffLightPath]]

Venturing to your left, you make your way down the pitch black pathway. Much of the more mountainous portions of Torei were riddled with such passageways, some still being used for slaves to move products and packages, but most had been abandoned-- the Way Up having brought far too much commerce into the region for such narrow passages to provide for. More relevent however, is your inability to see the path ahead without your flashlight. Had you been without it you doubt anyone could make out where they were going, a fact that dawns on you just as you hit a dead-end-- an ancient tunnel collapse sealing the path forward. Your prey may have came here to hide, but without a flashlight she wouldn't have braved it herself on the run. You've gone the wrong way! (set: $Strike to it + 1) [[Turn around, head for the light!->OffLightPath]]

Seeking the light, you're forced to take several turns, but luckily there aren't any branching paths-- you need only follow the dim reflections at each corner. Eventually you make a turn and are greeted with a firm halo of sunlight ahead, an opening! You emerge several streets below where you entered, Grand Aekora being particularly hilly as it approached the Way Up. Of your Truant you still seem to be behind, and here there is no clear path forward-- the street is empty when you glance both ways. You're not without hope however, as there is another resource directly across the street, staring at you. A freewomb in secretarial laminate, glancing over her shoulder your way as she searches her purse for a key to the building she's near. (set: $Strike to it + 1) [["Stop right there!"->OffFW]] [["Hey you!"->OffFW]]

The woman finds her keys just as you hail her, which she promptly drops, thereby losing the slim opportunity to escape your attention. Picking up her keys she collects herself, looking to you with an expression you've grown familiar with since conscription: a mixture of distress and distaste. Few freewombs enjoyed your Ministry's attention, and most actively despised you. "...y-yes, Officer?" You don't have time for a long interrogation. [["I need to ask you a few questions."->OffQ]] [["Have you seen a young woman pass here?"->OffHave]] [["Where is the woman who came from that tunnel?"->OffTun]] [[Pull out your shock baton. "Where is she?"->OffShock]]

"Questions, right," the woman replies. "And those... are?" (set: $Strike to it + 1) [["Have you seen a young woman pass here?"->OffHave]] [["Where is the woman who came from that tunnel?"->OffTun]] [[Pull out your shock baton. "Where is she?"->OffShock]]

"Many Toreans are young women, Officer. Can you be... a bit more specifc?" (set: $Strike to it + 1) [["Where is the woman who came from that tunnel?"->OffTun]] [[Pull out your shock baton. "Where is she?"->OffShock]]

Your eyewitness purses her lips. "Is she... in some sort of trouble? I don't really want to get involved." (set: $Strike to it + 1) [["I'm asking the questions here, slut! Tell me!"->OffSlu]] [["Just tell me."->OffJust]] [[Pull out your shock baton. "Where is she?"->OffShock]]

Pulling your shock baton from your hip gets her attention, the freewomb's eyes widening. Quickly she points down the street. "She went that way, towards the reservoir!" (set: $Strike to it + 1) [[Finally! Follow her!->OffRes]]

She doesn't look happy, but the freewomb does point down the road. "That way, Officer. Towards the reservoir." (set: $Strike to it + 1) [[Finally! Follow her!->OffRes]]

The woman's lips pull into a tight line. "Don't you have anything better to do then bother us freewombs? Come on." (set: $Strike to it + 1) [["I'm asking the questions here, slut! Tell me!"->OffSlu]] [[Pull out your shock baton. "Where is she?"->OffShock]]

Running in heels was never easy, but the Ministry of Truants retained strict dress codes for its Officers. Your training as a Cadet helps however, and as you turn the corner you see her-- running towards the reservoir. Torei had precious little water, making the reservoir a strategic asset for the Ringdom. Your truant appears to be less interested in the liquid wealth, making instead for an automated cleaning barge about to set out from the shore. Circling the holding pond would take a good twenty minutes, you will have lost her by then! (if: $Strike is < 5)[[[Run her down!->OffCatch]]] (if: $Strike is > 4)[[[Run her down!->OffEscape]]]

You do remarkably well in what quickly becomes a footrace, but even so the distance you close isn't enough to seize hold of her. Thinking quickly you reach for your belt, where a variety of Ministry enforcement devices hang-- although only two truly have the possibility of being useful right now. [[Deploy the shock baton!->OffBaton]] [[Pull forth the lam-gun!->OffGun]]

You make your best effort, but the Truant's lead is just too large. Neither baton nor your restraint-gun are in range before she jumps aboard the barge, and it seperates from the dock. Once safe she turns around, waving, a smile on her face. She almost looks familiar, but at this range your curiosity-- and Truant quota-- goes unsated. [[Either way, Nikaido won't be happy about this.->OffEscape2]]

Your chamber is small, but clear, the walls some manner of transparent plastic. It provides a nice view of your Precinct's yard, but such environs provide a second feature: the sunlight falling upon you is amplified and contained. You're sweating from every pore, almost delirious with thirst, with your arms bound above you to the steel post your back is against. You returned twelve hours ago having missed your quota. Normally this little stake-out was reserved for particularly reticent guests of your Ministry, but Nikiado had thought you deserved the opportunity to think about your recent choices-- this isn't the first time you've failed her standards, and you sense she won't accept many more missed quotas. Yet as you consider what could be called your Torean 'career' you cannot help but look up, where rising above the buildings of Grand Aekora the Way Up can be glimpsed in the far distance. Was this truly better then the collar you had escaped by accepting conscription? Were you not part of the problem? And what had it earned you? The line of sweat that runs down your nose to drip off, falling upon the laminate of your chest seems to answer that. Nikaido had suggested a reprieve at nightfall, which had to be coming soon. You best consider how you would beg for her mercy, that would certainly be demanded of you. [[You may not be lost in laminate, but you're certainly making sure others end that way.->Ending]]

Your trusty baton fits well in your hand, long and dangerous-- but not long enough. She's simply too far ahead to reach, a fact demonstrated by her making the final jump to reach the barge ahead of you. By the time you reach the dock its already drifting out, too far for you to follow. Once realizing she was safe your quarry turns around, waving, a smile on her face. She almost looks familiar, but at this range your curiosity-- and Truant quota-- goes unsated. [[Either way, Nikaido won't be happy about this.->OffEscape2]]

Your lam-gun is small, but suited for just these sorts of intermediate ranges. Sliding to a halt you pull it up, trading pinpoint accuracy with sheer volume as you squeeze off one shot, two shots, three. The black pellets cross the distance in mere moments, one missing with a splat beside your quarry, but the other two strike against her legs. Instantly the reactive compound expands, at first slowing the Truant then tripping her up entirely, the sticky restraint having roped between both legs. Marching up to her, you cannot help but to smile. [["You're under arrest."->OffWin]] [["Nice try, slut."->OffWin]]

"Please, I'm sorry, you don't need to do this!" Her pleas are familiar, you've heard them all before. She's still on her stomach as you approach, allowing you to place a knee firmly in her back as you deploy your cuffs. Soon her arms are pinned behind, allowing you to activate the quick-lam's solvant, breaking its hold upon her legs. Hauling her to her feet, you move her towards the nearby wall-- regulations demanded a thorough search of her person as the first step of detainment. Yet as you do so she looks over her shoulder, and you finally get a good look at your Truant. [[You know her!->OffWin2]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/MEKIk40.png" width="50%" height="50%"> It's been months, but you recall her clearly-- she's the tourist who had approached you ever so briefly when you were first detained after Club Lush, the one who had sought to touch you in her curiosity. She had paid for it with an eventual cage beside you that evening, but obviously your paths had diverged-- she was still free, and you... had become part of the system that would certainly send her to a collar for another infraction. That fact and your identity she is clearly aware of as well, as she speaks. "Oh my, it's you! Please! They will send me to auction if I'm arrested again! You're an offworlder, right? Me too. Please... can't you... just let me go? I'm making for the Way Up, I swear. I'm leaving, you will never see me again." Her story is much the same as your own-- a rush towards the space elevator, options narrowing as the collar tightens around her neck. Yours had ended... like *this*, however. Would you condemn her as well? [[Let her go... damn the consequences.->OffLetGo]] [[You have a job to do, arrest her.->OffArrestHer]] [[Gag her, then arrest her.->OffGag]]

Is it empathy? Or merely a sense to help your fellow offworlder? Either way, you eventually reach down, undoing her cuffs. She turns around, clearly surprised-- yet already stepping away, as if afraid you would change your mind. Its not an unfounded idea, Truant Officers could be fickle indeed. "Thank you," she nevertheless says. "From the bottom of my heart... thank you. I won't forget this." And with that, she departs. You're not sure what her remembering will do for you, but you can be certain Officer Nikaido won't be happy about this. You're going to come in under quota. [[You make for the barracks.->OffEscape2]]

Ignoring her begging, you set about your work: pressing her against the wall, followed by a thorough search of her every curve. When she continues to speak you deploy your shock baton, but the mere threat does give you blissful silence. By the time the transport wagon arrives you have her prepped, making loading her into a cage all the easier. As she had endured months ago, locked into a small cage with vibrating cocks lodged in cunt and ass you now repeat the procedure, damning her to a long torturous ride-- and of course a probably collar after her trial. Torean justice, delivered by your hand-- which your superior, Officer Nikaido, notes as she steps up before you. [[You stand at attention.->OffArrestGood]]

Pulling a bright orange ballgag fromy your belt, you deploy it with practiced efficiency, forcing it behind her teeth as you pull the straps tight. Soon she's reduced to moaning helplessness, and you set about your work: pressing her against the wall, followed by a thorough search of her every curve. By the time the transport wagon arrives you have her prepped, making loading her into a cage all the easier. As she had endured months ago, locked into a small cage with vibrating cocks lodged in cunt and ass you now repeat the procedure, damning her to a long torturous ride-- and of course a probably collar after her trial. Torean justice, delivered by your hand-- which your superior, Officer Nikaido, notes as she steps up before you. [[You stand at attention.->OffArrestGood]]

"Well done, Officer," Nikaido nods, pleased by your straighbacked posture, legs slightly spread. She takes advantage of the latter, running her hand up between your thighs, almost possessively. Like most commissioned officers she mostly used your cunt as a focus for punishment, but the occasional bit of teasing seemed to indicate when she was pleased indeed. Here she rubs a finger up against your slit, the thin laminate between her finger and your womanhood only emphasizing the sensation. You're force to merely maintain your pose, staring ahead as she continues. "You're proving to be quite adapt at this, I must admit. Keep it up. You could be free from your conscription in a decade or two, wouldn't that be grand? Come now, Officer. We do still have to string up your capture, teach her a little lesson, hm?" As always you follow behind her diligently, climbing aboard the transport. With nary a whisper the quiet vehicle begins to move, heading deeper into Grand Aekora. In the distance you catch sight of the Way Up, so far away and growing more distant, before its eclipsed by a taller building and thus from view. [[You may not be lost in laminate, but you're certainly making sure others end that way.->Ending]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/2wSljR4.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> The secretary nods, your good manners noted. She was collared too, but as far as the slave hierarchy went here on campus, students could not be lower. With a press of a button the door to the office within is opened to you, which you rise to enter. Passing through the portal you get your first glimpse of your assigned Headmistress, standing behind her desk. Her dress is red, tight laminate that colelcts together in a pencil skirt that ended just below the knees. Black frills provide ornamentation there, coordinating with her gloves and heels, and matching the feathers around her shoulders-- those being of both black and red. It's an imposing outfit, one that is matched by her sharp expression, crimson lips pulled into a line that suggests frequent dissappointment. She *was* an instructor, after all. As expected of one of her high status, you're expected to greet her first. [[Perform a full reverence. "Good morning, Headmistress."->AcadIntroRev]] [[Kneel before her. "Good morning, Headmistress."->AcadIntroKneel]] [[Stand before her. "Good morning, Headmistress."->AcadIntroStand]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/2wSljR4.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> The secretary's eyes narrow, your bad manners noted. She was collared too, but as far as the slave hierarchy went here on campus, students could not be lower. With a press of a button the door to the office within is opened to you, which you rise to enter. Passing through the portal you get your first glimpse of your assigned Headmistress, standing behind her desk. Her dress is red, tight laminate that colelcts together in a pencil skirt that ended just below the knees. Black frills provide ornamentation there, coordinating with her gloves and heels, and matching the feathers around her shoulders-- those being of both black and red. It's an imposing outfit, one that is matched by her sharp expression, crimson lips pulled into a line that suggests frequent dissappointment. She *was* an instructor, after all. As expected of one of her high status, you're expected to greet her first. [[Perform a full reverence. "Good morning, Headmistress."->AcadIntroRev]] [[Kneel before her. "Good morning, Headmistress."->AcadIntroKneel]] [[Stand before her. "Good morning, Headmistress."->AcadIntroStand]]

Demonstrating your immediate submission, you spread your legs then reach down, to the hem of your skirt. Pulling it up reveals your pale thighs, and where they meet your womanly slit. Lacking panties the Torean custom is all the more embarrassing. (set: $Strike to it + 1) Yet you seem to have made the correct choice. Noting your formality, the Headmistress replies in kind, gloved hand being lowered slowly before her. "Down, girl," she commands, waiting for you to comply before continuing. "Welcome to Celeste Academy. I am sure you have already been informed, but I am your registered owner until such time as you are auctioned. My name is Headmistress Vallis." She takes a seat behind her own desk, but does not give you leave to take one of the chairs nearby. Instead she merely steeples her fingers, lips pursed in thought as she looks you over. "A bit slimmer then I had hoped," she finally seems to conclude, using one hand to draw a prim little circle in the air before her. "Turn, let me see your silhouette. Arch that back, show me your tits." [[Follow her commands, turn and present.->AcadIntroTurn]] [["E-Excuse me?"->AcadIntroQ]] [["Actually, I have some questions...?"->AcadIntroQ]]

Intent on demonstrating your immediate submission, you kneel before her, spreading your legs. The Headmistress watches intently, but ultimately shakes her head. "Stand, girl. Your desire to please has been noted, but so has your inexperience. Next time we meet, you will perform a reverence, as expected of all slaves." "Welcome to Celeste Academy. I am sure you have already been informed, but I am your registered owner until such time as you are auctioned. My name is Headmistress Vallis." She takes a seat behind her own desk, but does not give you leave to take one of the chairs nearby. Instead she merely steeples her fingers, lips pursed in thought as she looks you over. "A bit slimmer then I had hoped," she finally seems to conclude, using one hand to draw a prim little circle in the air before her. "Turn, let me see your silhouette. Arch that back, show me your tits." [[Follow her commands, turn and present.->AcadIntroTurn]] [["E-Excuse me?"->AcadIntroQ]] [["Actually, I have some questions...?"->AcadIntroQ]]

Strength of will even when collared is demonstrated by your stand, observing basic protocols but clearly failing to live up to Torean protocols. The Headmistress watches intently, even smirking with a hint of amusement, but ultimately shakes her head. "Your intentions have been noted, girl. But we *will* break you of those. Next time we meet, you will perform a reverence, as expected of all slaves." "Now, with that out of the way, welcome to Celeste Academy. I am sure you have already been informed, but I am your registered owner until such time as you are auctioned. My name is Headmistress Vallis." She takes a seat behind her own desk, but does not give you leave to take one of the chairs nearby. Instead she merely steeples her fingers, lips pursed in thought as she looks you over. "A bit slimmer then I had hoped," she finally seems to conclude, using one hand to draw a prim little circle in the air before her. "Turn, let me see your silhouette. Arch that back, show me your tits." [[Follow her commands, turn and present.->AcadIntroTurn]] [["E-Excuse me?"->AcadIntroQ]] [["Actually, I have some questions...?"->AcadIntroQ]]

"Very good," Vallis purrs, as you comply, turning ninety degrees before emphasizing your feminine assets. Even so, the Headmistress clearly isn't impressed. "A slave's diet will help a bit, but we will need to consider the Ministry of Improvements, I suspect." (set: $Strike to it + 1) It appears to be mostly an aside to herself however, as the Headmistress eventually leans back, repeating the movement with her hand to indicate you could face her again. From there she continues. "I've read your file. Born offworld, but something more then another unfortunate tourist. (if: $Value is -1 or 1)[You were enrolled involuntarily, via the Ministry of Truants. I will assure you, many of my girls have come to us by that path-- it matters not. You collared now, a slave, like so many others. Your record while in custody is another matter, however. (if: $Value is -1)[You were apparently rather combative initially, requiring substantial time in solitary confinement and heavy bondage. That is unfortunate, as it will be appended to your auction file, a public record. I suspect it will damage your value at auction, when that time comes..](if: $Value is 1)[You were apparently well behaved, and have here a commendation for submissiveness? That is quite good, as it will be appended to your auction file, a public record. I suspect that will help your value at auction, when that time comes.]](else:)[You enrolled voluntarily, accepting a collar via our remote station at the Aekoran Customs Enclave? A well-considered choice, especially for an offworlder. I suspect you will find great pleasure in your enslavement, going forward-- and more importantly, this will be noted on your auction file, a public record. Certainly that will make you more valuable to prospective buyers.(set: $Value to 2)](if: $AcadBonus is 1)[ There was also an additional note, indicating you had been a cooperative detainee during a brief period of parole? That will be noted on your record, I assure you.(set: $Value to it + 1)](if: $AcadBonus is 2)[ There was also an additional note, indicating an unspecified incident prior to your arrest? Something to do at the Customs Enclave... and that you were to be fasttracked for low-value menial work. Well, that will be noted on your record, but you can still achieve your higher grade placings if you apply yourself.(set: $Value to it - 2)](if: $ServBail is true)[ Ah, and one last thing-- a mark on your record indicating you were previously collared? The Courts have cleared you, but the fact that you accepted such an offer is noted-- prospective buyers value loyalty, and will note that poorly.(set: $Value to it - 1)]" She smirks. "I suppose you're curious as to what that all means, exactly? How your time here at Celeste will work?" [["Yes, Headmistress."->AcadIntroYes]] [["If that is what you wish to discuss, Headmistress."->AcadIntroBetter]] [["I guess."->AcadIntroWorse]]

"I am *not* in the habit of repeating myself," Vallis growls. You will remember that going forward, yes? Good. Now: **turn**." You do, turning ninety degrees before emphasizing your feminine assets. Even so, the Headmistress clearly isn't impressed. "A slave's diet will help a bit, but we will need to consider the Ministry of Improvements, I suspect." It appears to be mostly an aside to herself however, as the Headmistress eventually leans back, repeating the movement with her hand to indicate you could face her again. From there she continues. "I've read your file. Born offworld, but something more then another unfortunate tourist. (if: $Value is -1 or 1)[You were enrolled involuntarily, via the Ministry of Truants. I will assure you, many of my girls have come to us by that path-- it matters not. You collared now, a slave, like so many others. Your record while in custody is another matter, however. (if: $Value is -1)[You were apparently rather combative initially, requiring substantial time in solitary confinement and heavy bondage. That is unfortunate, as it will be appended to your auction file, a public record. I suspect it will damage your value at auction, when that time comes..](if: $Value is 1)[You were apparently well behaved, and have here a commendation for submissiveness? That is quite good, as it will be appended to your auction file, a public record. I suspect that will help your value at auction, when that time comes.]](else:)[You enrolled voluntarily, accepting a collar via our remote station at the Aekoran Customs Enclave? A well-considered choice, especially for an offworlder. I suspect you will find great pleasure in your enslavement, going forward-- and more importantly, this will be noted on your auction file, a public record. Certainly that will make you more valuable to prospective buyers.(set: $Value to 2)](if: $AcadBonus is 1)[ There was also an additional note, indicating you had been a cooperative detainee during a brief period of parole? That will be noted on your record, I assure you.(set: $Value to it + 1)](if: $AcadBonus is 2)[ There was also an additional note, indicating an unspecified incident prior to your arrest? Something to do at the Customs Enclave... and that you were to be fasttracked for low-value menial work. Well, that will be noted on your record, but you can still achieve your higher grade placings if you apply yourself.(set: $Value to it - 2)](if: $ServBail is true)[ Ah, and one last thing-- a mark on your record indicating you were previously collared? The Courts have cleared you, but the fact that you accepted such an offer is noted-- prospective buyers value loyalty, and will note that poorly.(set: $Value to it - 1)]" She smirks. "I suppose you're curious as to what that all means, exactly? How your time here at Celeste will work?" [["Yes, Headmistress."->AcadIntroYes]] [["If that is what you wish to discuss, Headmistress."->AcadIntroBetter]] [["I guess."->AcadIntroWorse]]

Standing, she grabs a riding crop from her desk, although for the moment she merely snaps it against her palm. "Your time here at Celeste will be consist of two portions, that which you are now in-- your general training as a slave and submissive, followed by the second-- specialized training in the role we select for you. Celeste Academy provides training for all manner of slaves, so we utilize two metrics to place our students in the proper program." She indicates a chart upon the wall behind her, a square divided into four quadrants. Tapping the vertical axis, she looks to you again. "First is that which we have discussed, your raw value. Some of our students demonstrate a committment to their schooling and Torean culture that serves to indicate they will fetch a high base price at auction, and thus would be a good investment for the Academy to train in one of our more intensive roles. That of soubrette, for example, or governess. Even one of our Torean famous dolls, perhaps." Vallis slaps the lower portion of the square. "Other slaves do not demonstrate such value, and are best utilized in more menial roles. Ponygirls, basic servants-- that sort of thing." [["And the second metric, Headmistress?"->AcadIntro5Pass]] [[Remain silent.->AcadIntro5Fail]]

"Such proper manners," the Headmistress muses, sounding quite delighted. "Oh, I suspect you will do very well here. A real charmer... ah, but I digress. I'm certain you are curious." (set: $Strike to it + 1) Standing, she grabs a riding crop from her desk, although for the moment she merely snaps it against her palm. "Your time here at Celeste will be consist of two portions, that which you are now in-- your general training as a slave and submissive, followed by the second-- specialized training in the role we select for you. Celeste Academy provides training for all manner of slaves, so we utilize two metrics to place our students in the proper program." She indicates a chart upon the wall behind her, a square divided into four quadrants. Tapping the vertical axis, she looks to you again. "First is that which we have discussed, your raw value. Some of our students demonstrate a committment to their schooling and Torean culture that serves to indicate they will fetch a high base price at auction, and thus would be a good investment for the Academy to train in one of our more intensive roles. That of soubrette, for example, or governess. Even one of our Torean famous dolls, perhaps." Vallis slaps the lower portion of the square. "Other slaves do not demonstrate such value, and are best utilized in more menial roles. Ponygirls, basic servants-- that sort of thing." [["And the second metric, Headmistress?"->AcadIntro5Pass]] [[Remain silent.->AcadIntro5Fail]]

"That is the *last* time you will show such disdain for protocol, student. Do *not* make me address this with you again." Standing, she grabs a riding crop from her desk, although for the moment she merely snaps it against her palm. "Your time here at Celeste will be consist of two portions, that which you are now in-- your general training as a slave and submissive, followed by the second-- specialized training in the role we select for you. Celeste Academy provides training for all manner of slaves, so we utilize two metrics to place our students in the proper program." She indicates a chart upon the wall behind her, a square divided into four quadrants. Tapping the vertical axis, she looks to you again. "First is that which we have discussed, your raw value. Some of our students demonstrate a committment to their schooling and Torean culture that serves to indicate they will fetch a high base price at auction, and thus would be a good investment for the Academy to train in one of our more intensive roles. That of soubrette, for example, or governess. Even one of our Torean famous dolls, perhaps." Vallis slaps the lower portion of the square. "Other slaves do not demonstrate such value, and are best utilized in more menial roles. Ponygirls, basic servants-- that sort of thing." [["And the second metric, Headmistress?"->AcadIntro5Pass]] [[Remain silent.->AcadIntro5Fail]]

"The second metric, yes," she nods, clearly pleased with your engagement. "A harder measure, but just as important for your placement: that of *independence*. Many slaves believe that service simply requires submission, and while that is true in the basic sense, this does not suit all roles well. For example: a soubrette may resemble what you Offworlders deem a mere *maid*, but the expectations upon her are much higher. She must engage with guests, dancing along the thin line of teasing and insubordination-- in short, she must think for herself, as a slave. The same can be said of a concubine, even if such a simple sexual object is relatively low value. A ponygirl, meanwhile, or one of our dolls are just the opposite. They do not think for themselves, and are not expected to." (set: $Strike to it + 1) You're not familiar with every role Vallis spoke of, but her straightforwardness is a firm reminder you're far from your old life now. Dolls, ponygirls, soubrettes-- this was the language of Torei, and you best learn to speak it quickly. [["And I will be placed in one of these roles, Headmistress?"->AcadIntro6]]

"Speak up, girl," Vallis demands, sharply. "Are you paying attention? Ah, perhaps you are simply trying to mind your manners? Well, one could not ask for a better introduction to the second metric." She taps the rightmost portion of the chart. "A harder measure, but just as important for your placement: that of *independence*. Many slaves believe that service simply requires submission, and while that is true in the basic sense, this does not suit all roles well. For example: a soubrette may resemble what you Offworlders deem a mere *maid*, but the expectations upon her are much higher. She must engage with guests, dancing along the thin line of teasing and insubordination-- in short, she must think for herself, as a slave. The same can be said of a concubine, even if such a simple sexual object is relatively low value. A ponygirl, meanwhile, or one of our dolls are just the opposite. They do not think for themselves, and are not expected to." You're not familiar with every role Vallis spoke of, but her straightforwardness is a firm reminder you're far from your old life now. Dolls, ponygirls, soubrettes-- this was the language of Torei, and you best learn to speak it quickly. [["And I will be placed in one of these roles, Headmistress?"->AcadIntro6]]

The Headmistress nods, the sharp line of her bangs making the mere gesture rather aggressive. "You will, but not for several weeks. Until then, you will be trained in more basic matters-- on Torean culture and history, submission, and your new role within it." She circles the desk, coming up beside you. You both may be heeled, but she's still taller. "Your day will begin promptly before dawn, when you will wake and clean yourself before entering one of our Wardrobes for a fresh uniform. Makeup is *not* applied, you will do that yourself to practice. Afterward, inspection and assignments for the day. Morning classes will follow, which will vary. Lunch comes precisely at noon. Like most slaves on this planet, you will be fed slave gruel. The taste is quite poor, I am told, but it is nutritious-- you will need only that singular meal per day. Afternoon classes afterward. Evenings are spent cleaning, a good thing to practice for any slave-- we do keep Celeste looking impeccable. Before you go to bed there is also a small window for correction or, rarely, rewards. Then bed." The riding crop is extended before you, the thick laminate tip spun in short circles. "We have two types of beds here, and you are allowed to choose between them. The first is a cage, which you would be locked into each night. For your comfort the floor is padded. Or you may choose a bed, it is a simple cot with laminate sheets, but it does come with an additional requirement: you will be awoken an hour early, to serve at the faculty table while we have breakfast." She smiles, her crimson lips seemingly ill-suited for the expression. "The choice is yours." [["I will take the cage, Headmistress."->AcadIntroCage]] [["I will take the cot, Headmistress."->AcadIntroCot]]

"The cage," Vallis notes. "As you will. It is not comfortable, or what anyone would consider the *independent* choice-- but it is acceptable. Some girls simply deserve a cage, and little else." (set: $Indy to it - 1) She taps her riding crop against your rear, gently, as if testing if you would flinch. You don't, too experienced for that, but it only seems to induce the question that follows. "Now that we have the basics covered, there is only the matter of what *you* think of the entire situation, hm? Tell me, girl. What do you expect of your time here, at Celeste?" [["I'll do what I have to, Headmistress."->AcadIntro7Fail]] [["I'm excited to serve, Headmistress."->AcadIntro7Good]] [["I am wet cunt, ready to learn HeadMistress."->AcadIntro7TooGood]]

"The cot," Vallis notes. "As you will. Trading additional duties, the requirement to serve us, for a bit of independence? Interesting." (set: $Indy to it + 1) She taps her riding crop against your rear, gently, as if testing if you would flinch. You don't, too experienced for that, but it only seems to induce the question that follows. "Now that we have the basics covered, there is only the matter of what *you* think of the entire situation, hm? Tell me, girl. What do you expect of your time here, at Celeste?" [["I'll do what I have to, Headmistress."->AcadIntro7Fail]] [["I'm excited to serve, Headmistress."->AcadIntro7Good]] [["I am wet cunt, ready to learn HeadMistress."->AcadIntro7TooGood]]

"A proper slave knows to balance their thoughts with that which is expected of them, and that response is particularly ill-considered," she notes with disapproval. "I've been noting your conduct thus far however, so let us use this as an opportunity for instruction on your value." (if: $Strike is 5)["I'm pleased to conclude that your conduct during this little meeting has been absolutely perfect. You have proven submissive and subservient, as a slave should be. You respected protocol and yet engaged with your owner. Good girl. This will be noted in your public file.(set: $Value to it + 1)](if: $Strike is 4)["I'm please to conclude that your conduct during this little meeting has been nearly perfect. You have proven submissive and subservient, as a slave should be. A missed detail will not be counted against you, not in this environment-- you are learning after all. Expect this to be noted in your file.(set: $Value to it + 1)](if: $Strike is 3 or 2)["Your conduct during this little meeting has been imperfect, but that is not unexpected. I will not hold this against you, not so early in your studies here. This is a place of learning. Going forward, however, you must focus on achieving the subtle mix of submission, subservience, and engagement we look for here at Celeste.](if: $Strike is 1 or 0)[You have proven resistant to even the barest instruction and slow to learn. This is an environment dedicated to learning, but even so my initial impression of your conduct is not high. This will be noted in your public file.]" She returns to her side of the desk, returning her riding crop to its place at her side. "You are dismissed, slave." [[You retreat, as your studies begin...->Acad2]]

"A proper slave knows to balance their thoughts with that which is expected of them, and that response was very well considered," she notes with approval. "I've been noting your conduct thus far however, so let us use this as an opportunity for instruction on your value." (set: $Strike to it + 1) (if: $Strike is 5)["I'm pleased to conclude that your conduct during this little meeting has been absolutely perfect. You have proven submissive and subservient, as a slave should be. You respected protocol and yet engaged with your owner. Good girl. This will be noted in your public file.(set: $Value to it + 1)](if: $Strike is 4)["I'm please to conclude that your conduct during this little meeting has been nearly perfect. You have proven submissive and subservient, as a slave should be. A missed detail will not be counted against you, not in this environment-- you are learning after all. Expect this to be noted in your file.(set: $Value to it + 1)](if: $Strike is 3 or 2)["Your conduct during this little meeting has been imperfect, but that is not unexpected. I will not hold this against you, not so early in your studies here. This is a place of learning. Going forward, however, you must focus on achieving the subtle mix of submission, subservience, and engagement we look for here at Celeste.](if: $Strike is 1 or 0)[You have proven resistant to even the barest instruction and slow to learn. This is an environment dedicated to learning, but even so my initial impression of your conduct is not high. This will be noted in your public file.]" She returns to her side of the desk, returning her riding crop to its place at her side. "You are dismissed, slave." [[You retreat, as your studies begin...->Acad2]]

"A proper slave knows to balance their thoughts with that which is expected of them, and that response was a bit *too* enthusiastic," she notes with a smirk. "I've been noting your conduct thus far however, so let us use this as an opportunity for instruction on your value." (if: $Strike is 5)["I'm pleased to conclude that your conduct during this little meeting has been absolutely perfect. You have proven submissive and subservient, as a slave should be. You respected protocol and yet engaged with your owner. Good girl. This will be noted in your public file.(set: $Value to it + 1)](if: $Strike is 4)["I'm please to conclude that your conduct during this little meeting has been nearly perfect. You have proven submissive and subservient, as a slave should be. A missed detail will not be counted against you, not in this environment-- you are learning after all. Expect this to be noted in your file.(set: $Value to it + 1)](if: $Strike is 3 or 2)["Your conduct during this little meeting has been imperfect, but that is not unexpected. I will not hold this against you, not so early in your studies here. This is a place of learning. Going forward, however, you must focus on achieving the subtle mix of submission, subservience, and engagement we look for here at Celeste.](if: $Strike is 1 or 0)[You have proven resistant to even the barest instruction and slow to learn. This is an environment dedicated to learning, but even so my initial impression of your conduct is not high. This will be noted in your public file.]" She returns to her side of the desk, returning her riding crop to its place at her side. "You are dismissed, slave." [[You retreat, as your studies begin...->Acad2]]

(if: $Indy is -1)[The weeks pass slowly, even once you adjust to a schedule that allowed you little downtime-- and even less sleep. The extra hour your choice of a cage provides proves quite beneficial, but you rarely sleep well, and every morning are forced to press yourself against the bars. Headmistress Vallis required begging for caged slaves to be released.](if: $Indy is 1)[The weeks pass slowly, even once you adjust to a schedule that allowed you little downtime-- and even less sleep. Being forced to wake an hour early doesn't help matters, and each breakfast you serve at proves a challenge. Headmistress Vallis often deployed her riding crop for even the smallest of errors. Certainly you won't forget which fork was intended for salads.] Perhaps its that lack of sleep that draws you into a momentary lull, one that nearly causes you to miss your name being called. Looking up draws your leash across the desk you're seated at, additional chains to wrist cuffs keeping your hands where your Headmistress could see them. Vallis' hand is on her hip, and several of the other students nearby are snickering. "I will take that as a *yes*," the Headmistress fills in. Approaching you she undoes your three restraints, allowing you to follow her back towards the front of the class. "Now-- as I said, some slaves think solely with their cunts. They are dependent upon pleasure and instruction. Others do not-- either can be acceptable, but it does change the nature of the slave." She holds her riding crop, bending it slightly between her hands. "So-- would you like to demonstrate for the class how to beg like a proper slut who wants to cum, or how to properly address a cock?" (set: $Strike to 0) [["I will demonstrate how to beg, Headmistress."->Acad2Beg]] [["I will demonstrate how to service a cock, Headmistress."->Acad2Cock]]

Vallis nods, ceding you the slightly raised platform from which she usually reigned over the class. It provides the other uniformed students a clear view of you, the gentle clink of their desk restraints the only narration as they wait for you to begin. (set: $Indy to it - 1) [[Kneel.->BegKneel]] [[Remain standing.->BegStand]] [[Take a presentation pose.->BegPres]]

Vallis nods, ceding you the slightly raised platform from which she usually reigned over the class-- but not before turning her dias to reveal a laminate cock affixed to it. The position provides the other uniformed students a clear view of you, the gentle clink of their desk restraints the only narration as they wait for you to begin. (set: $Indy to it - 1) [[Kneel.->CockKneel]] [[Bend over.->CockStand]] [[Take a formal kneeling pose.->CockPres]]

Kneeling before the class, you spread your legs and place your hands behind your back-- the classic Torean pose of submission. It's a choice Vallis nods along with, from just offstage. (set: $Strike to it + 1) [["I would like to cum, please."->BegPlease]] [["Mistress, please-- I am wet and wish to cum."->BegDescribe]] [["Mistress, may I cum!?"->BegExpress]]

You remain standing before the class, stiff and a bit awkward. It's a choice Vallis shakes her head to, just offstage. (set: $Strike to it - 1) [["I would like to cum, please."->BegPlease]] [["Mistress, please-- I am wet and wish to cum."->BegDescribe]] [["Mistress, may I cum!? Please!!"->BegExpress]]

You remain standing before the class, but kick your legs out, placing your hands up behind your head. The pose emphasizes your waist and chest, a choice Vallis nods her head to, just offstage. (set: $Strike to it + 1) [["I would like to cum, please."->BegPlease]] [["Mistress, please-- I am wet and wish to cum."->BegDescribe]] [["Mistress, may I cum!? Please!!"->BegExpress]]

"A bit too soft, I'm afraid," the Headmistress instructs, stepping back up onto the platform beside you. "Notice, class, the etiquette-- that is good, saying *please* is well considered. But enthusiasm would be proper, at the risk of being *too* clearly hungry for the attention. In that case something more nuanced, perhaps further description of why the slave wishes to cum, would be proper." (set: $Strike to it - 1) She taps her ankle, and thus her heeled boot, with her riding crop. "Now then, before we chain you, please demonstrate appreciation for my instruction, student." [[Lick her boot.->BegLick]] [[Bow before her.->BegBow]] [[Press your cheek to her boot.->BegCheek]]

"Very good," the Headmistress instructs, stepping back up onto the platform beside you. "Notice, class, the etiquette-- that is good, saying *please* is well considered. But enthusiasm would be proper, at the risk of being *too* clearly hungry for the attention. In that case something more nuanced, as your fellow has demonstrated, would be proper." (set: $Strike to it + 1) She taps her ankle, and thus her heeled boot, with her riding crop. "Now then, before we chain you, please demonstrate appreciation for my instruction, student." [[Lick her boot.->BegLick]] [[Bow before her.->BegBow]] [[Press your cheek to her boot.->BegCheek]]

"Too much," the Headmistress instructs, stepping back up onto the platform beside you. "Notice, class, the etiquette-- that is good, saying *please* is well considered. Enthusiasm would be proper, at the risk of being *too* clearly hungry for the attention. In that case something more nuanced, a description of why the slave should be rewarded, would be proper." (set: $Strike to it - 1) She taps her ankle, and thus her heeled boot, with her riding crop. "Now then, before we chain you, please demonstrate appreciation for my instruction, student." [[Lick her boot.->BegLick]] [[Bow before her.->BegBow]] [[Press your cheek to her boot.->BegCheek]]

Kneeling down before her, you allow your tongue to slip between your lips, running a gentle stroke up the laminate of her boot. It's a choice she purrs approval for, tapping her riding crop lightly against your raised rear to make that clear. (set: $Strike to it + 1) "Good girl. I indicated my boot, and you picked up on that. Very good. Overall, I would consider your demonstration (if: $Strike is 3)[to have been well considered, and proper. You will receive a mark in your file indicating this. Clearly you are taking to your collar well.(set: $Value to it + 1)](if: $Strike is < 3)[to be less than perfect. A good piece of instruction for the class, but not exactly what I was looking for.(set: $Value to it - 1)]" Guiding you back to your feet, she leads you between the sets of desks, returning you to your seat. There she locks your wrists back into place, followed by your leash. Once again you're just another uniformed student, chained to her desk. [[Class continues...->Acad3]]

Kneeling down before her, you place your forehead upon the ground, your skirt exposing your bare rear as you raise it. It's a choice she purses her lips for, tapping her riding crop lightly against your raised rear to make that clear. (set: $Strike to it - 1) "No. I indicated my boot, the implication being it should be addressed directly. Licked. Something to remember going forward, yes? Overall, I would consider your demonstration (if: $Strike is 3)[to have been well considered, and proper. You will receive a mark in your file indicating this. Clearly you are taking to your collar well.(set: $Value to it + 1)](if: $Strike is < 3)[to be less than perfect. A good piece of instruction for the class, but not exactly what I was looking for.(set: $Value to it - 1)]" Guiding you back to your feet, she leads you between the sets of desks, returning you to your seat. There she locks your wrists back into place, followed by your leash. Once again you're just another uniformed student, chained to her desk. [[Class continues...->Acad3]]

Kneeling down before her, your place your cheek against her boot, your skirt exposing your bare rear as you raise it. It's a choice she purses her lips for, tapping her riding crop lightly against your raised rear to make that clear. (set: $Strike to it - 1) "Close. I indicated my boot, the implication being it should be addressed directly, not merely worshipped. Licked. Something to remember going forward, yes? Overall, I would consider your demonstration (if: $Strike is 3)[to have been well considered, and proper. You will receive a mark in your file indicating this. Clearly you are taking to your collar well.(set: $Value to it + 1)](if: $Strike is < 3)[to be less than perfect. A good piece of instruction for the class, but not exactly what I was looking for.(set: $Value to it - 1)]" Guiding you back to your feet, she leads you between the sets of desks, returning you to your seat. There she locks your wrists back into place, followed by your leash. Once again you're just another uniformed student, chained to her desk. [[Class continues...->Acad3]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/BywQYCp.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> The Academy is large, covering a rather substantial campus in the rural edge of Aekora-- as far from the Way Up as one could be while remaining in the Ringdom. Making your way across it, as you are a few days later, requires setting a firm pace-- and managing it in the heels your uniform requires. Your path today is blocked by a crowd ahead however, your fellow students crowded around a glassboard at the intersection of three hallways. Just what intrigued them is unclear, but you have the time to investigate, and begin pushing your way forward. (if: $CorSlave is true)[Your effort is halted by a sudden hand upon your arm. Turning, you find a familiar face indeed. Corinth, dressed identically as you are, a studend of the Academy. The collar around her throat gleams as brightly as her eyes as she pulls you, back out of the crowd. "I knew I'd find you!" [["Corinth!"->CorInterlude]] [["What's going on?"->CorInterlude]]](else:)[Eventually you get close enough to make out the large header label: *Extracurriculars Sign-Ups*. Another student at your side signs her name in the open box at the bottom of one of the listings, before turning to her friend nearby. "You better pick one, before they all fill up-- having one is mandatory!" [[Perhaps you should take a quicker look, then.->Acad3List]]]

Kneeling before the class, you settle your hands on your thighs. Your Headmistress shakes her head from her position just to the side, obviously finding some fault. Yet she lets you continue. [[Take it slowly.->CockSlow]] [[Take it at an even pace.->CockEven]] [[Take it quickly.->CockFast]]

Bending over, you align yourself with the faux phallus. Your Headmistress shakes her head from her position just to the side, obviously finding some fault. Yet she lets you continue. [[Take it slowly.->CockSlow]] [[Take it at an even pace.->CockEven]] [[Take it quickly.->CockFast]]

Kneeling before the class, thrust out your chest as you place your hands behind your back-- a classic Torean pose of submission. Your Headmistress nods from her position just to the side, clearly pleased. Yet she lets you continue. (set: $Strike to it + 1) [[Take it slowly.->CockSlow]] [[Take it at an even pace.->CockEven]] [[Take it quickly.->CockFast]]

You take the full length of the laminate cock into your mouth, hilting yourself on it-- that much you knew to do for sure, it being a Torean tradition. From there you work your head back and forth, setting a slow pace for several minutes until Vallis commands you cease. Pulling off the cock, a bit of your own drool falls upon your chest as you look to her. "Too slow," she instructs, retaking the stage to stand beside you. "Without formal instructions either way, you should set an even pace. Suck without haste, but too slow and you may be perceived as teasing-- and thus worthy of punishment. She taps her ankle, and thus her heeled boot, with her riding crop. "Now then, before we chain you, please demonstrate appreciation for my instruction, student." [[Lick her boot.->BegLick]] [[Bow before her.->BegBow]] [[Press your cheek to her boot.->BegCheek]]

You take the full length of the laminate cock into your mouth, hilting yourself on it-- that much you knew to do for sure, it being a Torean tradition. From there you work your head back and forth, setting an even pace for several minutes until Vallis commands you cease. Pulling off the cock, a bit of your own drool falls upon your chest as you look to her. (set: $Strike to it + 1) "Very good" she instructs, retaking the stage to stand beside you. "Without formal instructions either way, you should set an even pace. Suck without haste, but too slow and you may be perceived as teasing-- and thus worthy of punishment. She taps her ankle, and thus her heeled boot, with her riding crop. "Now then, before we chain you, please demonstrate appreciation for my instruction, student." [[Lick her boot.->BegLick]] [[Bow before her.->BegBow]] [[Press your cheek to her boot.->BegCheek]]

You take the full length of the laminate cock into your mouth, hilting yourself on it-- that much you knew to do for sure, it being a Torean tradition. From there you work your head back and forth, setting a fast pace for several minutes until Vallis commands you cease. Pulling off the cock, a bit of your own drool falls upon your chest as you look to her. "Too fast," she instructs, retaking the stage to stand beside you. "Without formal instructions either way, you should set an even pace. Suck without haste, but too slow and you may be perceived as teasing-- and thus worthy of punishment. She taps her ankle, and thus her heeled boot, with her riding crop. "Now then, before we chain you, please demonstrate appreciation for my instruction, student." [[Lick her boot.->BegLick]] [[Bow before her.->BegBow]] [[Press your cheek to her boot.->BegCheek]]

"I've been trying to keep an eye out for you," Corinth continues, having pulled you up against the hallway's side wall. There she stands before you, rather boldly in fact, keeping you from slipping away. (if: $CorStat is 5)["I was angry at you, for awhile you know. You left me behind! But I just kept thinking... if things went bad for you, this is where you would be sent here eventually. And I was right!](if: $CorStat is 4)["We never got a chance to talk, after trying to run for it... you know? And then we were seperated, the time at the Ministry, then our trials and everything... but I just kept thinking, you would be sent here eventually. ANd I was right!](if: $CorStat is 6)["I know that woman at the enrollment center, near the border, said we may not be kept together... but I didn't really expect it, you know? But I knew I would see you eventually! And I was right!]" She reaches up brushing a bit of her hair from her eyes. "How is... you know, it going so far?" [["Good enough, I guess..."->CorGEnough]] [["I hate this place."->CorGHate]] [["I'm just trying to be a good student."->CorGGood]]

Four listings are outlined on the glassboard, each with a short blurb beneath them and a bit of explanation. The spaces are filling quickly as your fellow students make their own decisions, but none are filled as of yet-- a good thing, given you suspect this decision to be of some importance. (set: $AcadTeam to 0) (if: $CorSlave is true)["You first," Corinth directs. "I know what I'm going to do, but I want to see what you pick."] [[Examine the "Fine Dining Team"->FineDine]] [[Examine the "Bondage Dolls"->BDolls]] [[Examine the "Charm Club"->CharmClub]] [[Examine the "Ballet Society"->BSociety]]

"Well, hey, that's great to hear!" She replies, stepping even closer, reaching up to toy with the ring hanging from your collar. "I really feel like I'm learning a lot, about how things work now that we're wearing... these, and about myself really." She grins, looking to the crowd still nearby. "You sign up, yet?" [["Not yet."->CorIn2]] [["Was just about to."->CorIn2]]

"Aw, come on now, it's not *that* bad." She replies, stepping even closer, reaching up to toy with the ring hanging from your collar. "I really feel like I'm learning a lot, about how things work now that we're wearing... these, and about myself really." She grins, looking to the crowd still nearby. "You sign up, yet?" [["Not yet."->CorIn2]] [["Was just about to."->CorIn2]]

"Me too!" She replies, stepping even closer, reaching up to toy with the ring hanging from your collar. "I really feel like I'm learning a lot, about how things work now that we're wearing... these, and about myself really." She grins, looking to the crowd still nearby. "You sign up, yet?" [["Not yet."->CorIn2]] [["Was just about to."->CorIn2]]

"Great!" She enthuses, again taking your hand, pulling you back towards the crowd. "I don't have much time to talk, I've got to get to my next class, but we can totally do this together-- come on!" [[She pushes towards the front.->Acad3List]]

This listing is for the *Fine Dining Team*. Members practice high society etiquette, intended for independent minded slaves. Each weekend members then serve at a dinner hosted for Aekora's nobility, and other patrons of the Academy. This serves to both demonstrate the practical work the Academy is doing, and introduce slaves for potential consideration by prospective high-end buyers. [[Choose the "Fine Dining Team"->FineDine2]] [[Examine the "Bondage Dolls"->BDolls]] [[Examine the "Charm Club"->CharmClub]] [[Examine the "Ballet Society"->BSociety]]

This listing is for the *Bondage Dolls*, an extracurricular dedicated to the practice of longer term heavy bondage, emulating the Academy's premiere product: its carefully trained and certified dolls. By practicing under the strictest of restraints and situations, slaves in this program usually achieve higher values at auction-- although willfully seeking such restrictions is a mark of intense dependence. [[Examine the "Fine Dining Team"->FineDine]] [[Choose the "Bondage Dolls"->BDolls2]] [[Examine the "Charm Club"->CharmClub]] [[Examine the "Ballet Society"->BSociety]]

This listing is for the *Charm Club*, an extracurricular which focuses on direct sexual stimulation and contact-- hallmarks of the most common form of Academy slave, the average-priced yet relatively independent concubine. While the Academy's chastity rules are still enforced upon students, more frequent opportunities to practice sex are provided. [[Examine the "Fine Dining Team"->FineDine]] [[Examine the "Bondage Dolls"->BDolls]] [[Choose the "Charm Club"->CharmClub2]] [[Examine the "Ballet Society"->BSociety]]

This listing is for the *Ballet Society*, who focus upon strength and flexibility conditioning. Students who thrive in this program tend to be rather dependent on strict instruction, making them well suited to ballet recitals that cap the Society's training and practice. [[Examine the "Fine Dining Team"->FineDine]] [[Examine the "Bondage Dolls"->BDolls]] [[Examine the "Charm Club"->CharmClub]] [[Choose the "Ballet Society"->BSociety2]]

Stepping up before the glassboard, you write your own name in the open space below *Fine Dining Team*. (if: $CorSlave is true)[At your side Corinth does the same, a smile plastered on her violet lips. "Well, I guess we're thinking along the same lines, huh? Neat! I guess I'll see you this weekend. Oh, and there is something else I wanted to do with you... well, I'll just snag you when we get back. Sound good? Great! Anyway, got to go!" Before you can ask for clarification she's gone, the shuffle of laminate bodies near the board having shifted.](else:)[At your side another student presses up against your shoulder, using the proximity to push a slip of thin laminate into your hand. "You picked the faculty's team, now you gotta pick a team with *us*." Before you can ask for clarification or even really tell who that had been, the shuffle of laminate bodies near the board shifts, and you lose track. Your only clue is the note in your hand, a room number on it and a date-- directly after your club's first meet.] (set: $AcadTeam to 1)(set: $Indy to it + 1)(set: $Value to it + 1) [[Huh. What could that mean?->Acad4]]

Stepping up before the glassboard, you write your own name in the open space below *Bondage Dolls*. (if: $CorSlave is true)[At your side Corinth puts her own mark on the *Fine Dining Team*, a smile plastered on her violet lips. "Like being told what to do, huh? I think we could have fun, going forward. Oh, and speaking of that there is something else I wanted to do with you... well, I'll just snag you after the meets. Sound good? Great! Anyway, got to go!" Before you can ask for clarification she's gone, the shuffle of laminate bodies near the board having shifted.](else:)[At your side another student presses up against your shoulder, using the proximity to push a slip of thin laminate into your hand. "You picked the faculty's team, now you gotta pick a team with *us*." Before you can ask for clarification or even really tell who that had been, the shuffle of laminate bodies near the board shifts, and you lose track. Your only clue is the note in your hand, a room number on it and a date-- directly after your club's first meet.] (set: $AcadTeam to 2)(set: $Indy to it - 1)(set: $Value to it + 1) [[Huh. What could that mean?->Acad4]]

Stepping up before the glassboard, you write your own name in the open space below *Charm Club*. (if: $CorSlave is true)[At your side Corinth puts her own mark on the *Fine Dining Team*, a smile plastered on her violet lips. "A bit low class, but you still want to take the lead? I think we could have fun, going forward. Oh, and speaking of that there is something else I wanted to do with you... well, I'll just snag you after the meets. Sound good? Great! Anyway, got to go!" Before you can ask for clarification she's gone, the shuffle of laminate bodies near the board having shifted.](else:)[At your side another student presses up against your shoulder, using the proximity to push a slip of thin laminate into your hand. "You picked the faculty's team, now you gotta pick a team with *us*." Before you can ask for clarification or even really tell who that had been, the shuffle of laminate bodies near the board shifts, and you lose track. Your only clue is the note in your hand, a room number on it and a date-- directly after your club's first meet.] (set: $AcadTeam to 3)(set: $Indy to it + 1)(set: $Value to it - 1) [[Huh. What could that mean?->Acad4]]

Stepping up before the glassboard, you write your own name in the open space below *Ballet Society*. (if: $CorSlave is true)[At your side Corinth puts her own mark on the *Fine Dining Team*, a smile plastered on her violet lips. "Working on your conditioning, and being told what to do? I think we could have fun, going forward. Oh, and speaking of that there is something else I wanted to do with you... well, I'll just snag you after the meets. Sound good? Great! Anyway, got to go!" Before you can ask for clarification she's gone, the shuffle of laminate bodies near the board having shifted.](else:)[At your side another student presses up against your shoulder, using the proximity to push a slip of thin laminate into your hand. "You picked the faculty's team, now you gotta pick a team with *us*." Before you can ask for clarification or even really tell who that had been, the shuffle of laminate bodies near the board shifts, and you lose track. Your only clue is the note in your hand, a room number on it and a date-- directly after your club's first meet.] (set: $AcadTeam to 4)(set: $Indy to it - 1)(set: $Value to it - 1) [[Huh. What could that mean?->Acad4]]

(if: $AcadTeam is 1)[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/hXxWJfG.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> The week comes and goes, leading to the weekend-- and the first meeting of your extracurricular group. The *Fine Dining Team* does as was described, serving at a function the Academy put on for local leaders and nobility. You spend the time in laminate servant's livery, setting the table, serving the meal, and on occasion teasing the guests-- they seem to delight in the occasional impish playfulness, although the danger is always there that you could push things too far, incur a punishment. That was part of the fun though, wasn't it? (if: $CorSlave is true)[Corinth serves beside you in a matching uniform, your first experience with her since enrollment revealing your friend had changed a bit-- grown more decisive, assertive. She seems to be taking to her collar exceptionally well, even thriving in the relative liberty being deprived of dignity and basic rights allowed. She can lift her skirt for others, smile and tease, bend over just *so* when retreiving a dish-- and so do you, learning quickly how the *Fine Dining Team* worked. Its all part of the game.](else:)[Quickly you learn to embrace your role, to thrive without liberty or dignity in a way that revealed such concepts to be... stifling. You can lift your skirt for others now, smile and tease, bend over just *so* when retrieving a dish-- all of it with a confidence that came only through your collar.]] (if: $AcadTeam is 2)[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/EYMsjXV.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> The week comes and goes, leading to the weekend-- and the first meeting of your extracurricular group. The *Bondage Dolls* soon have you in a new outfit. Tightly corseted, they outfit you with a full set of cuffs. At wrist and ankle, joining your collar, you're now permanently ready for restraint amongst them. And use them they do, locking you into strict positions that demand pose and endurance you did not know you had-- yet tap into regardless, thriving without liberty or dignity in a way that reveals such concepts to be... stifling. All the complexities of the world are cut free when you're bound, your concerns reduced merely to your own body, and the commands of your betters. Had you always looked forward to the unyielding grip of tight bondage?] (if: $AcadTeam is 3)[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/Uar0JDx.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> The week comes and goes, leading to the weekend-- and the first meeting of your extracurricular group. The *Charm Club* proves to be an interesting affair, your efforts largely directed towards how best to appear alluring-- and how to tease when necessary. Its a fine line that's demonstrated most aptly by the dress they give you, a tight pink laminate shealth leaving you opened backed, a black bolero-like accoutrement atop providing a hint of class, although that effect is lessened when you're taught how best to undo the buttons and slide it from your toned frame. Eventually it dawns on you, as you straddle another student, pinning her hands above her head as you lean in with a smile, that there was something liberating in all of this. You've been denied anything like dignity, but with your collar comes a free pass to abandon such concerns, to give into your natural sensuality. To truly be the slave Torei already saw you as. ] (if: $AcadTeam is 4)[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/OxxJLZz.png" width="30%" height="30%"> The week comes and goes, leading to the weekend-- and the first meeting of your extracurricular group. The *Ballet Society* focuses heavily on conditioning and the strict execution of coordinated manuevers, the dance and showmanship proving all the harder once you're in their uniform. Tightly corseted, with ballet heels, soon you're practicing your pirouette. It's hard, tiring work, but somewhere within it you come to realize something about your collar. Liberty, dignity, those were things offworlders prized so highly-- why? Was it not better to simply be told what to do, to be a thing of desire and sensuality?] [[Are you learning? Or breaking?->Acad4A]]

Afterward you've just shed your club laminate, returning to the standard uniform, when (if: $CorSlave is true)[a familiar voice interrupts from behind. Corinth. She's wearing the regular student's uniform, but you recognize the sheen-- recently applied. "You forget, or just playing with me? We have that *thing*! Come on, it's like... traditional, or whatever. Follow!" She doesn't give you the opportunity to say no.](else:)[you happen to remember that strange message you had received, the suggestion that you had *another* team to join? What could that mean? To find out would require heading to the classroom it had specified, which you eventually find yourself orientating for. Torei didn't have cats, so curiosity couldn't kill them, right?] [[You enter a classroom...->Acad4B]]

The classroom is without a designated session for the moment, and should have been empty. It's not. Instead you find a group of your fellow students, divided into two lines. The first is standing, and across from them? The second line, kneeling submissively. (if: $CorSlave is true)["It's a... thing they do here," Corinth explains, pushing a bit of her hair from her eyes. It's traditional. We're all slaves here, but slaves are rarely equal on Torei, right? Some are more comfortable on their knees, *always* serving, and some of us are better suited for... leadership? I guess? You need to pick."](else:)[One of your fellow students is standing by, clearly noting the confusion across your features. "It's.. a thing we do here, alright? A tradition. We're all slaves here, but slaves are rarely equal on Torei. Some are more comfortable on their knees, *always* serving, and some of us are better suited for... leadership. You need to pick."] [["'Always' serving?"->Acad4Serve]] [["Leadership?"->Acad4Lead]]

"If that's where you think you belong, you need only kneel at make that clear. And one of those who choose to stand will pick you. Then there are rules, informal... but our Headmistress knows. Like I said, it's traditional. You will need to serve. Carry books between classes, fetch when told to fetch, that sort of thing. It's good practice." [[Take a kneeling position.->Acad4Serve2]] [["Leadership?"->Acad4Lead]] [["What do you think I should pick?"->Acad4What]]

"If that's where you think you belong, you need only stand and make that clear, in front of one of the kneeling girls. Then there are rules, informal... but our Headmistresses knows. You can have your girl do whatever you like, but you need to watch out for her. Make sure she's kept busy, has things to do. It's good practice." [[Take a standing position.->Acad4Stand2]] [["Serving?"->Acad4Serve]] [["What do you think I should pick?"->Acad4What]]

You make your choice known by stepping forward, approaching the paired lines... and settling down on your knees. Mimicking your fellow kneelers, you take a presentation pose, arms back and legs spread. You're not left unattended for long. (if: $CorSlave is true)[Corinth strides up confidently, hesitates only for a moment as if to give the situation proper consideration, then steps to her left-- into the line of standing students. Directly across from you.](else:)[The next arrival, a black-haired student with a wide smile gets the same explanation-- and then chooses immediately, stepping up beside the other standing students, directly across from you.] "Eyes down," she commands, gently. (set: $Indy to it + 1) [[Eyes down.->Acad4Serv3]]

(if: $CorSlave is true)[Corinth smirks. "Oh, we're together too much during the day to *not* have an opinion on this, you know. And from what we've seen of you so far...?"](else:)[Your fellow student nods. "We're together too much during the day to *not* have an opinion on this. Some slaves are just naturally one or the other, you know? And from what we've seen of you so far..."] (if: $Indy is < 0)["Everyone seems to think you're more suited for being on your knees. You like being told what to do."](if: $Indy is > 1)["Everyone seems to think you're more suited to be standing. You can think for yourself, if necessary."] [["Serving?"->Acad4Serve]] [["Leadership?"->Acad4Lead]]

You make your choice known by stepping forward, approaching the paired lines... and settling in alongside your fellow standing students. Your position places you opposite a black-haired student with large eyes, who's staring up at you, trying to keep a smile she held at bay. You get the sense she's... impressed with you? Still, you must correct her. (set: $Indy to it + 1) [[Eyes down.->Acad4Stand3]]

(if: $CorSlave is true)[Above you, Corinth practically gushes with excitement. "Oh, this feels... right? Doesn't it. Wow. I am going to have... so much fun with you. I just know it."](else:)[The student standing above you speaks as if she could not break her firm smile, although of course you're not allowed to look up to confirm that. "Well, isn't this interesting, hmm? My own little toy, to do whatever I wish with...?"] She taps her booted toe against the floor to get your attention, drawing the gaze of several others near you as well. "Lift your skirt. Show me your pussy." [[You hesitate, but lift your skirt...->Acad4Hes]] [[Lift your skirt confidently.->Acad4Conf]]

(if: $CorSlave is true)[As your girl complies Corinth makes her selection next, hesitating for a moment as if to consider the options, but in truth she's already turning towards the line of standing students before her heeled feet take her there. Tapping your elbow with her own, she winks to you with a smile, then looks down at her kneeling girl-- and uses her boot to widen her spread-leg stance a bit.](else:)[Your girl complies, blushing a bit.] You must have been near the last to arrive, as soon the different pairings begin leaving-- but not before one student produces a set of laminate leashes. Deploying one each to those standing, you join with your fellows in leashing the girl at your feet. [[Tease her.->Acad4Tease]] [["What's your name?"->Acad4Ask]] [["Stand. We're leaving."->Acad4Up]]

She's wearing the Academy's standard uniform, which means beneath her skirt she was without panties. It's a weakness you take full advantage of, sliding your foot up between her legs until the tip of your boot finds the meeting of her legs. There you hold, leaving her in sweet suspense for several moments before pulling back with a smile. Below, she finally exhales. [["Stand. We're leaving."->Acad4Up]]

"Pyrri," the girl whispers, keeping her eyes down. [[Tease her.->Acad4Tease]] [["Stand. We're leaving."->Acad4Up]]

Tugging on her leash, you bring your girl to her feet. She's nimble, well adjusted to her heels and apparently very keen to please. It's a pleasing mix, you must admit. [["Come now."->Acad5Stand]]

You haven't been to the Headmistress' office since your first day, months ago. But you've been called to her now, and find it to be much the same as you remember it. This time however you arrive with your pet student on her leash, Pyrri, who you lock to one of the mounting points along the wall intended for just that sort of use. Turning to the secretary-slave who manned the door, you see her already reaching for the access controls. "She's waiting for you." [[The door opens, you enter...->Acad5]]

You submit, but only after a moment's hesitation, a bit of a tremble in your hands. A hand lands upon your head in response, running through your hair, soothingly even. "Very good. We will work on confidence, though. I just know you *want* to show off your tight little cunt, hm?" Leaning over, a leash is snapped to your collar. "Now then, come on. I was supposed to clean the west dorm this evening, but now I have *help*. Isn't that wonderful?" [[You follow along on your leash...->Acad5Kneel]]

You submit readily, lifting your skirt boldly. A hand lands upon your head in response, running through your hair, soothingly even. "Very good. I just knew you *want* to show off your tight little cunt, hm?" Leaning over, a leash is snapped to your collar. "Now then, come on. I was supposed to clean the west dorm this evening, but now I have *help*. Isn't that wonderful?" [[You follow along on your leash...->Acad5Kneel]]

You haven't been to the Headmistress' office since your first day, months ago. But you've been called to her now, and find it to be much the same as you remember it. This time however you arrive on a leash, (if: $CorSlave is true)[Corinth guiding you with a gleeful smile,](else:)[the student who had claimed you,] having restricted your ability to travel the campus-- you did so on a leash, or at an instructor's request, or not at all. She unhooks you with a wink then retreats, leaving you to the small antechamber, and the secretary-slave who still manned the door. "She's waiting for you." [[The door opens, you enter...->Acad5]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/BywQYCp.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> Entering the office of Headmistress Vallis your trainng thus far kicks in, pushing you to perform a well-practiced reverence. Lifting your skirt, you present yourself while bowing at the waist-- a performance that earns the Headmistress' attentive nod. "Presentation pose," she demands of you, another simple command you snap into. Legs spread, hands up behind your head, back curved just right to thrust your chest and present your rear. You could do it sleeping, at this point. "To get the obvious worry out of the way, no, you're not in trouble," Vallis continues, indeed setting your mind at ease. "We're here to talk about your progress so far, your valuation, and to provide an opportunity to increase it further." [["What... sort of opportunity, Headmistress?"->Acad5A]]

"Improving yourself, by submitting to the Ministry of Improvements." She takes the seat behind her desk, as always leaving you to stand. "By Offworlder standards you are relatively well formed, and pleasing to the eye. But this is Torei, and we expect *more*. Now, whomever decides to buy you at auction will be free to make changes to you as they desire, that is their right, but that would come after purchase-- and it is usually in your best interest to seek a higher valuation before that occurs, yes?" She looks down, where your file rests on her desk. (if: $Value is < 1)["So far you're coming in at average value, so this opportunity may be of special interest to you."](if: $Value is > 0)["So far you're coming in above average value, so you're doing quite well already, but the opportunity will still be provided."] "While the Ministry of Improvements can achieve nearly any improvement thinkable, the Academy suggests either of a pair of programs-- our standard improvement, or the advanced improvement." [["Can you tell me more about the Ministry of Improvements, Headmistress?"->AcadHoI]] [["Will it hurt, Headmistress?"->AcadHurt]] [["Can you explain the standard improvement, Headmistress?"->AcadStandard]] [["Can you explain the advanced improvement, Headmistress?"->AcadAdvanced]] [["I don't want to be involved with the Ministry of Improvement at all!"->AcadNoMin]]

She nods. "Like the other Ministries, the Ministry of Improvements is found in most Ringdoms. They provide a nearly endless selection of operative improvements to one's body, from something as simple as rounding out your measurements, to far more extreme procedures. As a slave your alteration is at the whim of your owner, but in this particular instance we find it instructive for you to make the decision yourself. Biomedical technology is Torei's greatest asset, spurred by the occasional release of new information from the AIs. Even extreme work can be done relatively quickly." [["Will it hurt, Headmistress?"->AcadHurt]] [["Can you explain the standard improvement, Headmistress?"->AcadStandard]] [["Can you explain the advanced improvement, Headmistress?"->AcadAdvanced]]

Headmistress Vallis smiles. "A bit." [["Can you tell me more about the Ministry of Improvements, Headmistress?"->AcadHoI]] [["Can you explain the standard improvement, Headmistress?"->AcadStandard]] [["Can you explain the advanced improvement, Headmistress?"->AcadAdvanced]]

Vallis indicates you with slow turn of her wrist, and thus her gloved hand. "The standard program will improve your measurements, filling out your chest by another cup size, adjusting your hips and waist to be wider and more trim, respectively, and adding a bit to your lips. We like them nice and full. Tagging would then be performed, installing a subdermal identification chip beneath your skin-- a requirement for all Academy slaves, to ensure you can be returned to your eventual owner if you were every seperated. (if: $Pierced is true)[You're already pierced at the nipple, otherwise that would be added as well.](else:)[And your nipples, of course. We would have them pierced.] Altogether? You would present an even more feminine figure, curvaceous and desirable." [["I understand, I want the standard improvement."->AcadStanImprove]] [["Can you tell me more about the Ministry of Improvements, Headmistress?"->AcadHoI]] [["Will it hurt, Headmistress?"->AcadHurt]] [["Can you explain the advanced improvement, Headmistress?"->AcadAdvanced]] [["I don't want to be involved with the Ministry of Improvement at all!"->AcadNoMin]]

"The advanced improvement is my personal recommendation," Vallis enthuses, for once sounding like something else besides the stern taskmistress. "All the basic improvements are carried over, the adjustment of your measurements and nipple piercings if you need them. Chest, hips, waist, that sort of thing. But we do go further with this, truly seeking the Torean ideal for a slave's body. Piercings at the tongue and clit as well, rounding out your three pleasure points-- and the subdermal chip, tagging you for any scanning device to identify as propery. Then your gag reflex will be permanently surpressed, an annoying quirk of evolution most slaves are eventually freed from." She taps her chin, thinking. "I do belive that is it. Rainbow implants would be grand, but some buyers do prefer their slaves be without them, for whatever reason, and we do not wish to harm your value. Thus they would skipped, for now. How does that sound?" [["I understand, I want the advanced improvement."->AcadAdvImprove]] [["Can you tell me more about the Ministry of Improvements, Headmistress?"->AcadHoI]] [["Will it hurt, Headmistress?"->AcadHurt]] [["Can you explain the standard improvement, Headmistress?"->AcadStandard]] [["I don't want to be involved with the Ministry of Improvement at all!"->AcadNoMin]]

(set: $Value to it + 1)"A sensible choice," your Headmistress replies, clearly pleased with the decision. "Offworlders often have such a disadvantage at auction, but after this? You will fill our whatever outfits or uniform are demanded of you, and of course will be just like any other collar Torean slut." She reaches beneath her desk, then pushes a simple set of cuffs towards you. "The Ministry's lancers will be here shortly, and they do expect their patients to be suitably restrained. Be a dear and lock your arms behind your back." [["Of course, Mistress."->AcadStand3]]

"That is your choice to make, for *now*," the Headmistress replies. "Your eventual owner may decide differently however, and if that were to occur you would submit regardless-- or suffer the consequences, as they say. Although by then I would hope we would have broken you of any such absurdities." She lets the subject go, returning to your intent. "Are you sure this is what you want? There will not be another chance." [[I'm sure, I don't want improvement."->AcadNoMin2]] [["Can you tell me more about the Ministry of Improvements, Headmistress?"->AcadHoI]] [["Will it hurt, Headmistress?"->AcadHurt]] [["Can you explain the standard improvement, Headmistress?"->AcadStandard]] [["Can you explain the advanced improvement, Headmistress?"->AcadAdvanced]]

(set: $Value to it - 1)"As you will," the Headmistress declares. You know her well enough to expect a hint of disappointment, but instead find a smirk on her lips-- a disconcerting look upon the woman that held so much power over you. This clearly isn't over. "Instead of a valuable alteration to your from, we will instead use this as an instructive moment. The last thing I would wish you to conclude from our little meeting here is that you hold some manner of power, after all. You *will* be going to the Ministry of Improvements, if only to get a taste-- and a sub-dermal implant. We chip all our girls, you see, so that if you ever dishonor the Academy by running you will have nowhere to hide. Truant Officer's scanners are quite adept at detecting such things." [["I... understand."->AcadNoMinYes]] [["You can't do that!"->AcadnoMinNo]]

(set: $Value to it + 2)"How truly well considered," your Headmistress replies, clearly pleased with the decision. "Offworlders often have such a disadvantage at auction, but after this? You will fill our whatever outfits or uniform are demanded of you, but even against Torean girls you will excel. Certainly your future owner will enjoy you!" She reaches beneath her desk, then pushes a simple set of cuffs towards you. "The Ministry's lancers will be here shortly, and they do expect their patients to be suitably restrained. Be a dear and lock your arms behind your back." [["Of course, Mistress."->AcadExtra3]]

"Good girl," the Headmistress concludes. "It's always better when a slave accepts somethings." Reaching beneath her desk, she slides a simple pair of cuffs towards you. "The Ministry lancers will be arriving shortly to pick you up, and they require all patients be suitably restrained. Be a dear and lock your arms behind you." [["Of course, Headmistress."->NoImprove]] [["O-Okay, Headmistress..."->NoImprove]]

The Headmistress' eyes narrow, a dangerous expression. Reaching beneath her desk, she slides a simple pair of cuffs towards you. "The Ministry lancers will be arriving shortly to pick you up, and they require all patients be suitably restrained. You will comply, or you pay for your insolence. Dearly." [["Of course, Headmistress."->NoImprove]] [["O-Okay, Headmistress..."->NoImprove]]

The procedure is simple, but the Ministry of Improvements quickly proves to be popular-- it takes several days for your turn to arrive. In that time you're kept with other slaves, some of them fellow students while others must simply be from regular Torean owners, although the gag they provide prevents any sort of questioning. Eventually your turn comes, a nurse in shiny laminate performing the procedure. It's so simple, yet profound-- even if you were to somehow free yoursel from your collar, change into something beyond the laminate allowed you, any simple Torean scanner could reveal your true nature: a slave, a piece of property. [[It's a thought you've grown used to.->Acad6None]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/Pf9y8Mu.png" width="35%" height="35%"> Days later, you awaken-- working your way through another confusing return to reality. This time however you do not have mem-burn working against you, denying your recollection. Indeed, you recall your trip to the Ministry of Improvements quite clearly. Being stripped of your laminate, throughly examined for preexisting conditions and imperfections. Then the operating table and a heavy laminate mask, where sleep came so blissfully... But you're awake now, and strictly restrained. Laminate covers you from head to toe, a sensation you're familiar enough with now to recognize, but it does take you a moment to understand why your vision is blurred-- your mask is honeycombed, the small holes providing you with limited breath and light. There is a mirror across from you, you realize as you glance about, and it reveals... a woman it takes you a moment to recognize. *Yourself.* Changed, reformed in the Torean manner. Your every curve is now fuller, your breasts quite heavy despite the corset supporting them, while your hips flared aggressively. From the former your pierced nipples are quite evident. Even your thighs have been altered, fuller yet maintaining a clear gap between them just below your womanhood due to your wider hips. Clearly-- Torean biomedical mastery met expectations! [[And you've got several days of inpatient monitoring to look forward to...->Acad6Stand]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/Pf9y8Mu.png" width="35%" height="35%"> Days later, you awaken-- working your way through another confusing return to reality. This time however you do not have mem-burn working against you, denying your recollection. Indeed, you recall your trip to the Ministry of Improvements quite clearly. Being stripped of your laminate, throughly examined for preexisting conditions and imperfections. Then the operating table and a heavy laminate mask, where sleep came so blissfully... But you're awake now, and strictly restrained. Laminate covers you from head to toe, a sensation you're familiar enough with now to recognize, but it does take you a moment to understand why your vision is blurred-- your mask is honeycombed, the small holes providing you with limited breath and light. There is a mirror across from you, you realize as you glance about, and it reveals... a woman it takes you a moment to recognize. *Yourself.* Changed, reformed into the Torean ideal. Your every curve is now fuller, your breasts so very heavy despite the corset supporting them, while your hips flared aggressively. From the former your pierced nipples are quite evident, and while you cannot see them you certainly feel the stud in your tongue, joined by its sister between your legs. Even your thighs have been altered, fuller yet maintaining a clear gap between them just below your womanhood due to your wider hips. Shifting your head reveals the final promised change, something *down your throat*. You had thought it a phallic gag, and it is, but this one is buried so deep you should not be able to breath. Gone is your gag-reflex, a small hole between your lips and at its tip within you allowing oxygen to pass through. Even so, it is **incredibly** uncomfortable. Clearly-- Torean biomedical mastery met expectations! [[And you've got several days of inpatient monitoring to look forward to...->Acad6Extra]]

Weeks, perhaps months pass. You're losing track of time. Classes blur together, submission comes so easily now. You move to your knees, you spread your legs. You stand, you cuff yourself. You lay on your back, you tilt your head just *so*. Invitingly. And now you stand in a line with your fellow students, your Headmistress before you. You look like so many of the others now, after the Ministry of Improvements. Full figured and sensual, a thing to be desired, to be owned. "Your last week in the general program is upon us," Vallis intones, walking slowly before you, pacing along the line of slaves. "And with it, a final choice that we allow you to make. A simple one, but instructive as it is symbolic. To be gagged throughout this last week, or to retain the liberty of speech-- and thus perhaps demonstrate, for the last time, that you retain a sense of independence. A soubrette must speak on occasion to serve best, but a ponygirl? She needs only her bit, and a lash upon the flank to direct." The Headmistress snaps her riding crop to emphasize the point, smiling as she turns to the girl furtherest to the left. "So-- what will it be, slave? Do you want a gag?" It's a question she repeats, one at a time, working towards you slowly.(if: $CorSlave is true)[ When its Corinth's turn she declines.] And then it is you turn. Standing before you, Vallis brings her crop up, placing it gently beneath your chin. "Do you want a gag?" [["Yes, Headmistress."->GagYes]] [["No, Headmistress."->GagNo]]

Weeks, perhaps months pass. You're losing track of time. Classes blur together, submission comes so easily now. You move to your knees, you spread your legs. You stand, you cuff yourself. You lay on your back, you tilt your head just *so*. Invitingly. And now you stand in a line with your fellow students, your Headmistress before you. You stand out from the others now, after the Ministry of Improvements. Full figured and sensual, a thing to be desired, to be owned. "Your last week in the general program is upon us," Vallis intones, walking slowly before you, pacing along the line of slaves. "And with it, a final choice that we allow you to make. A simple one, but instructive as it is symbolic. To be gagged throughout this last week, or to retain the liberty of speech-- and thus perhaps demonstrate, for the last time, that you retain a sense of independence. A soubrette must speak on occasion to serve best, but a ponygirl? She needs only her bit, and a lash upon the flank to direct." The Headmistress snaps her riding crop to emphasize the point, smiling as she turns to the girl furthest to the left. "So-- what will it be, slave? Do you want a gag?" It's a question she repeats, one at a time, working towards you slowly.(if: $CorSlave is true)[ When its Corinth's turn she declines.] And then it is you turn. Standing before you, Vallis brings her crop up, placing it gently beneath your chin. "Do you want a gag?" [["Yes, Headmistress."->GagYes]] [["No, Headmistress."->GagNo]]

Weeks, perhaps months pass. You're losing track of time. Classes blur together, submission comes so easily now. You move to your knees, you spread your legs. You stand, you cuff yourself. You lay on your back, you tilt your head just *so*. Invitingly. And now you stand in a line with your fellow students, your Headmistress before you. You stand out from the others now, after the Ministry of Improvements-- a bit less curvaceous then most of your fellow students. "Your last week in the general program is upon us," Vallis intones, walking slowly before you, pacing along the line of slaves. "And with it, a final choice that we allow you to make. A simple one, but instructive as it is symbolic. To be gagged throughout this last week, or to retain the liberty of speech-- and thus perhaps demonstrate, for the last time, that you retain a sense of independence. A soubrette must speak on occasion to serve best, but a ponygirl? She needs only her bit, and a lash upon the flank to direct." The Headmistress snaps her riding crop to emphasize the point, smiling as she turns to the girl furthest to the left. "So-- what will it be, slave? Do you want a gag?" It's a question she repeats, one at a time, working towards you slowly.(if: $CorSlave is true)[ When its Corinth's turn she declines.] And then it is you turn. Standing before you, Vallis brings her crop up, placing it gently beneath your chin. "Do you want a gag?" [["Yes, Headmistress."->GagYes]] [["No, Headmistress."->GagNo]]

The Headmistress merely nods, understanding completely. Selecting a heavy laminate harness for you from the wall nearby, she bids you to open your mouth, which you do. Sliding the black ball between your lips she seats it expertly beneath your teeth, ensuring it could not be forced out as she begins cinching the straps tightly. Small locks complete the look, and Vallis soon moves on, leaving you as one of the slightly more then half of the students so firmly gagged. (set: $Indy to it - 1) The final week that follows passes even quicker then those previous. The point of decision approaches, where your fate would be decided-- Vallis would assign you a role for further training, a specialized place to which you are best suited. A new life, in the Torean manner, to be served on your knees. [[What will become of you?->AcadPick]]

The Headmistress merely nods, understanding completely. Tourists may think submission meant seeking out the most restrictive of bondage, but that could hardly be further from the truth-- and you both know it. There was a time and a place for such things, and this was not it. (set: $Indy to it + 1) That final week passes even quicker then those previous. The point of decision approaches, where your fate would be decided-- Vallis would assign you a role for further training, a specialized place to which you are best suited. A new life, in the Torean manner, to be served on your knees. [[What will become of you?->AcadPick]]

Your third trip to the Headmistress office demonstrates just how far you've come. Leashed to the wall in the receptionist's room you had waited patiently for your session, Vallis herself emerging to lead you in. Once inside you largely repeat the submissive position required of you, so well practiced now: on your knees, legs spread. Your arms are already bound behind your back, but you hardly notice. It almost feels natural now as you keep your eyes on the floor, waiting for the Headmistress to begin. She eventually does. "Are we ready to learn which role I have picked for you, slave?" [["Yes, Headmistress!"->AcadPick2]]

"Good girl," the Headmistress replies, the exchange so routine by now. "Well, as you know, the role we choose to train you further in is based upon your performance thus far, utilizing a pair of indicators: your level of demonstrated independence, and your perceived auction valuation. We will begin with the former." Above you can hear her flipping through your file, Torei's strange mixture of impressive tech and archaic practices perhaps exemplified in such ancient means of book-keeping. Without trees for pulp paper is not even used. (set: $Strike to 0) (if: $Indy is > 0)["I am pleased to report that you have scored quite exceptionally when it comes to matters of independence, and I will be recommending you for roles that would best utilize this tendency in you. Torei would cease to function, I'm afraid, if every one of our slaves was a mindless slut. You are, I remind you, very much a slut-- but mindless you are not."](else:)["I am pleased to report that you have scored rather low when it comes to matters of independence, and I will thus be recommending you for roles that would best suit your dependent and very submissive tendencies. You need not worry about thinking much for yourself, going forward."] (if: $Indy is > 0)[[[Your cunt aches a bit, a trained reaction to things you find pleasurable.->HighIndy]]](else:)[[[Your cunt aches a bit, a trained reaction to things you find pleasurable.->LowIndy]]]

Vallis presses on, not waiting for your input or reaction. She did not expect it, and in turn you do not expect the opportunity to provide it. This is your fate, your life going forward, and your influence upon it is limited indeed. "Now, your valuation. I will remind you that this is not a measure of your submission, or your progress here-- entirely, at least. It is instead a means for Celeste Academy to focus our most expensive training upon those who will be best served in such positions. (if: $Value is > 3)[Although I hardly need to provide such a disclaimer, in your case. Your valuation has been deemed acceptable, and you will be enrolled in one of our more... intensive training programs, as a result. You will be representing Celeste at its very best.](else:)[As it happens, your valuation has proven to be... let us call it average. I will be enrolling you in a program that best suits you in this regard. Torei always has a need for menial slaves, after all."] (if: $Value is > 3)[[[Again, you feel only pleasure at the prospect of serving.->HighIndyHighVal]]](else:)[[[Again, you feel onlypleasure at the prospect of serving.->HighIndyLowVal]]]

Vallis presses on, not waiting for your input or reaction. She did not expect it, and in turn you do not expect the opportunity to provide it. This is your fate, your life going forward, and your influence upon it is limited indeed. "Now, your valuation. I will remind you that this is not a measure of your submission, or your progress here-- entirely, at least. It is instead a means for Celeste Academy to focus our most expensive training upon those who will be best served in such positions. (if: $Value is > 3)[Although I hardly need to provide such a disclaimer, in your case. Your valuation has been deemed acceptable, and you will be enrolled in one of our more... intensive training programs, as a result. You will be representing Celeste at its very best.](else:)[As it happens, your valuation has proven to be... let us call it average. I will be enrolling you in a program that best suits you in this regard. Torei always has a need for menial slaves, after all."] (if: $Value is > 3)[[[Again, you feel only pleasure at the prospect of serving.->LowIndyHighVal]]](else:)[[[Again, you feel onlypleasure at the prospect of serving.->LowIndyLowVal]]]

(set: $Strike to (random: 1,3))"You may look up, dear," Vallis intones, the command unfamiliar. Yet you comply, as you've been trained to, meeting her firm gaze. There you realize her intent: she wanted to look you in the eyes as she delivered your fate. (if: $Strike is 1)["Given everything I have outlined, I have determined that you will be trained as one of our higher valued products: that of a governess. You have demonstrated a keen ability to reason and direct, and will be trained further in that going forward. The management of other slaves is an important duty in many of the larger Torean households, and as a collared slave yourself your charges will be your constant responsibility. If they fail, you will be punished as well. Many governesses become quite familiar with a frequent mixture of pleasure plain-- and the need for strict handling of their slaves, as a result." Still holding your gaze, unwavering, she extends a hand your way. "How does that sound?" [[You do not have a choice, and you know it. "Wonderful, Headmistress."->GovernessEnd]]](if: $Strike is 2)["Given everything I have outlined, I have determined you will be trained in our of our most expensive and sought after roles-- that of a high class soubrette. Offworlders think them mere maids, and while your uniform and duties will large adhere to such expectations there is another side to such a slave-- that of the mischievous slave, teasing right along the line of propriety. You will seek out punishments on occasion, testing your owner, but in turn may be able to act out and beyond that of most other collared roles. The best soubrettes are a fount of gossip and quiet deals, and are often sought out at the parties of nobility." Still holding your gaze, unwavering, she extends a hand your way. "How does that sound?" [[You do not have a choice, and you know it. "Wonderful, Headmistress."->SoubretteEnd]]](if: $Strike is 3)[Given everything I have outlined, I have determined you will be trained in the classical Torean role of high society consort. You may be owned individually, or by a larger consort firm, but your training will focus on preparing you to be as much a sensual partner and arm-candy as you are a conversationist, holding your own at the social functions and parties you will frequent. Etiquette and protocol will guide you, but in the end you will be expected to demonstrate your value publicly, a female worthy of desire and ownership." Still holding your gaze, unwavering, she extends a hand your way. "How does that sound?" [[You do not have a choice, and you know it. "Wonderful, Headmistress."->ConsortEnd]]]

(if: $CorOverride is true)[(set: $Strike to 4)](else:)[(if: $CorSlave is false)[(set: $Strike to (random: 1,4))](else:)[(set: $Strike to (random: 1,3))]]"You may look up, dear," Vallis intones, the command unfamiliar. Yet you comply, as you've been trained to, meeting her firm gaze. There you realize her intent: she wanted to look you in the eyes as she delivered your fate. (if: $Strike is 1)["Given everything I have outlined, I have determined that you will be trained as one of our more common products: that of courier. Given the often limited state of communications technology, or simply because Torean businesses prefer the traditional means of contact, couriers remain very common even this close to the Way Up. You will be outfited with a locking pack into which documents can be placed, and most probably fitted with a full suit and helmet-- having to stop for a storm rolling in from the badlands would be rather unacceptable. The path you choose is your own however, and skilled couriers can be quite prized as they learn the ins and outs of their routes. Given the traditional lean of the business, your uniform will most probably be strict-- and we will train you to endure such an experience." Still holding your gaze, unwavering, she extends a hand your way. "How does that sound?" [[You do not have a choice, and you know it. "Wonderful, Headmistress."->CourierEnd]]](if: $Strike is 2)["Given everything I have outlined, I have determined you will be trained in one of our most... intriguing roles. One that demands utter submission from you, and yet requires you think for yourself... that of the catgirl. Your training going forward will reduce you to that of animal, routinely gagged, hobbled and given paws so that you can only crawl. Such kittens are expected to be playful however, curious, and perhaps even to get in the occasional trouble. However you come out, you will not longer be treated as a human, but as a pet." Still holding your gaze, unwavering, she extends a hand your way. "How does that sound?" [[You do not have a choice, and you know it. "Wonderful, Headmistress."->CatgirlEnd]]](if: $Strike is 3)["Given everything I have outlined, I have determined you will be trained in our most common and numerous role, that of concubine. A majority of our students end in this role, and as such I must admit it is a struggle to outline just what sort of Master or Mistress you will serve, or where that will be. Many concubines are purchased and then trained further, in fact, by owners who simply wish to specialize their slaves as *they* see fit. That said, you will be trained extensively in the 'Three S's' that we value: that of submission, service, and sex. I'm sure that whomever purchases you will find themselves in possession of a proper piece of property, ready for whatever they demand of you." Still holding your gaze, unwavering, she extends a hand your way. "How does that sound?" [[You do not have a choice, and you know it. "Wonderful, Headmistress."->ConcubineEnd]]](if: $Strike is 4)["Given everything I have outlined, I have determined you will be trained in our most common and numerous role, that of concubine. A majority of our students end in this role, and as such I must admit it is a struggle to outline just what sort of Master or Mistress you will serve, or where that will be. Many concubines are purchased and then trained further, in fact, by owners who simply wish to specialize their slaves as *they* see fit. That said, you will be trained extensively in the 'Three S's' that we value: that of submission, service, and sex. I'm sure that whomever purchases you will find themselves in possession of a proper piece of property, ready for whatever they demand of you." Still holding your gaze, unwavering, she extends a hand your way. "How does that sound?" [[You do not have a choice, and you know it. "Wonderful, Headmistress."->CorDomEnd]]]

(set: $Strike to (random: 1,3))"You may look up, dear," Vallis intones, the command unfamiliar. Yet you comply, as you've been trained to, meeting her firm gaze. There you realize her intent: she wanted to look you in the eyes as she delivered your fate. (if: $Strike is 1)["Given everything I have outlined, I have determined that you will be trained as our rarest-- and highest valued-- of products. You will be one of our Dolls, a slave who lives for nothing more then tight laminate, strict bondage, and the opporunity to service your owner-- whoever that may be. You will be trained extensively in our longest program, entirely in submissive sex, and kept under *very* harsh etiquette protocols. You will be a *thing*, a toy, in every sense of the word. And when we are done with you? You will be packaged and shipped like the Doll you are, in a brightly colored box. Most buyers are in the Antipodes, where Torean culture is very... traditional. And there you will be a valued plaything, a object of immense value, kept in heavy bondage when your Master or Mistress does not wish to play with you." Still holding your gaze, unwavering, she extends a hand your way. "How does that sound?" [[You do not have a choice, and you know it. "Wonderful, Headmistress."->DollEnd]]](if: $Strike is 2)["Given everything I have outlined, I have determined you will be trained as one of our most expensive and popular products. You will be a mail-order housewife, a slave intended for marriage. You will be trained extensively to be a pleasing bride, well suited for the wedding bed, as well as the perfect domestic slave afterward. Most buyers of our housewives are offworlders who have chosen to live on Torei, to embrace its culture-- and you will serve as the perfect way for them to arrive home each day to a warm meal, a kiss on the cheek, and a wife in gleaming laminate. Undoubtedly as an offworlder yourself you will excel in this program." Still holding your gaze, unwavering, she extends a hand your way. "How does that sound?" [[You do not have a choice, and you know it. "Wonderful, Headmistress."->WifeEnd]]](if: $Strike is 3)[Given everything I have outlined, I have determined you will be trained as one of our most interesting and peculiar products: that of the ceremonial envoy guard. Many Ringdoms have begun engaging in trade missions and even full embassies far from Torei, where our laws do not hold sway-- yet we will *not* allow our culture and practices to be diluted. Thus the popularity of ceremonial guards, slaves who maintain their utter submission even when abroad, where laws do not hold them. You will be trained extensively to break you of any lingering sense of freedom, until even when given every opportunity to walk away you remain-- loyal to your collar. In such a state you will be uniformed and drilled in guard duties, although most envoys have less obvious and... *restrained* guards in the odd chance actual danger presents itself. You will be many offworlder's first experience with a Torean slave." Still holding your gaze, unwavering, she extends a hand your way. "How does that sound?" [[You do not have a choice, and you know it. "Wonderful, Headmistress."->GuardEnd]]]

(if: $CorOverride is true)[(set: $Strike to 4)](else:)[(if: $CorSlave is false)[(set: $Strike to (random: 1,4))](else:)[(set: $Strike to (random: 1,3))]]"You may look up, dear," Vallis intones, the command unfamiliar. Yet you comply, as you've been trained to, meeting her firm gaze. There you realize her intent: she wanted to look you in the eyes as she delivered your fate. (if: $Strike is 1)["Given everything I have outlined, I have determined that you will be trained in the strict role of one of Torei's most ancient sort of slave. That of the ponygirl. You will be harnessed with a bit between your teeth, and set to whatever labor your owner decides you are best suited for. Your days will be long and exhausting, and almost certainly repetitive. But you are clearly best suited for such menial work, and I am certain you will thrive in a harness. Ponygirls are exported and resold all across Torei, so I cannot give you an expectation of where you will serve, but most eventually find themselves in a stable. Perhaps if you are lucky you will be chosen for a show-pony's role, or that of a racer. Or... perhaps you will simply be a breeder. Offworlders are valued for that, after all." Still holding your gaze, unwavering, she extends a hand your way. "How does that sound?" [[You do not have a choice, and you know it. "Wonderful, Headmistress."->PonyEnd]]](if: $Strike is 2)["Given everything I have outlined, I have determined you will be trained in our most common and numerous role, that of concubine. A majority of our students end in this role, and as such I must admit it is a struggle to outline just what sort of Master or Mistress you will serve, or where that will be. Many concubines are purchased and then trained further, in fact, by owners who simply wish to specialize their slaves as *they* see fit. That said, you will be trained extensively in the 'Three S's' that we value: that of submission, service, and sex. I'm sure that whomever purchases you will find themselves in possession of a proper piece of property, ready for whatever they demand of you." Still holding your gaze, unwavering, she extends a hand your way. "How does that sound?" [[You do not have a choice, and you know it. "Wonderful, Headmistress."->SecDaemonEnd]]](if: $Strike is 3)[Given everything I have outlined, I have determined you will be trained in our secondmost popular role, that of the service slave. Torei's economy, and indeed our very way of life, depends upon the exact sort of slave that you will be: one trained to serve obediently, to be pleasing and punctual, a piece of property that best represents the owner or company that buys you at auction. Going forward your training will emphasize those points, focusing on common courtesies, as well as how to best serve while strictly bound-- many business owners utilize bound slaves to demonstrate their wares, provide better service, or simply to draw attention. And who knows? Perhaps you will even find service with a firm you are familiar with, most Aekoran businesses do buy directly from the Prime Markets, where you will end up." Still holding your gaze, unwavering, she extends a hand your way. "How does that sound?" [[You do not have a choice, and you know it. "Wonderful, Headmistress."->ServEnd]]](if: $Strike is 4)["Given everything I have outlined, I have determined you will be trained in our most common and numerous role, that of concubine. A majority of our students end in this role, and as such I must admit it is a struggle to outline just what sort of Master or Mistress you will serve, or where that will be. Many concubines are purchased and then trained further, in fact, by owners who simply wish to specialize their slaves as *they* see fit. That said, you will be trained extensively in the 'Three S's' that we value: that of submission, service, and sex. I'm sure that whomever purchases you will find themselves in possession of a proper piece of property, ready for whatever they demand of you." Still holding your gaze, unwavering, she extends a hand your way. "How does that sound?" [[You do not have a choice, and you know it. "Wonderful, Headmistress."->CorDomEnd]]]

Headmistress Vallis brings her hands together, steepling them in the same way she had so long ago, on your first day at the Academy. You've come so far, fallen so far. The collar around your throat feels so natural. "Good. Your training begins tomorrow, then. As one of our namesake Dolls you will be sleeping in a laminate storage sack going forward. Training will take nearly a year, and after that will come your auction. You will undoubtedly bring in a substantial sum for the Academy. Eyes down." Your eye contact breaks as you follow her command without even fully thinking of it, to which Vallis merely begins collecting your file back together. Your submission was expected at this point after all, unworthy of commentary. Instead she waves a hand towards the far door. "You have my leave to go. Return to your dorm for the night. Consider your future. Your new life begins at dawn." [[A new life, indeed...->DollEnd2]]

Headmistress Vallis brings her hands together, steepling them in the same way she had so long ago, on your first day at the Academy. You've come so far, fallen so far. The collar around your throat feels so natural. "Good. Your training begins tomorrow, then. As a fully trained housewife you will be moved to a more domestic bedroom, as befits your station-- although you will be leashed to it each night. Training will take several months, and after that will come your auction. I can only hope you will fetch an acceptable price for the Academy. Eyes down." Your eye contact breaks as you follow her command without even fully thinking of it, to which Vallis merely begins collecting your file back together. Your submission was expected at this point after all, unworthy of commentary. Instead she waves a hand towards the far door. "You have my leave to go. Return to your dorm for the night. Consider your future. Your new life begins at dawn." [[A new life, indeed...->WifeEnd2]]

Headmistress Vallis brings her hands together, steepling them in the same way she had so long ago, on your first day at the Academy. You've come so far, fallen so far. The collar around your throat feels so natural. "Good. Your training begins tomorrow, then. As one of our Ceremonial Guards you will be moved to a cage, as befits your station. Training will take nearly a year, and after that will come your auction. I am certain you will fetch an acceptable price for the Academy. Eyes down." Your eye contact breaks as you follow her command without even fully thinking of it, to which Vallis merely begins collecting your file back together. Your submission was expected at this point after all, unworthy of commentary. Instead she waves a hand towards the far door. "You have my leave to go. Return to your dorm for the night. Consider your future. Your new life begins at dawn." [[A new life, indeed...->GuardEnd2]]

Headmistress Vallis brings her hands together, steepling them in the same way she had so long ago, on your first day at the Academy. You've come so far, fallen so far. The collar around your throat feels so natural. "Good. Your training begins tomorrow, then. As a Ponygirl you will be moved to the stable we have on campus, going forward. Training will take several months, and after that will come your auction. I can only hope you will fetch an acceptable price for the Academy. Eyes down." Your eye contact breaks as you follow her command without even fully thinking of it, to which Vallis merely begins collecting your file back together. Your submission was expected at this point after all, unworthy of commentary. Instead she waves a hand towards the far door. "You have my leave to go. Return to your dorm for the night. Consider your future. Your new life begins at dawn." [[A new life, indeed...->PonyEnd2]]

Headmistress Vallis brings her hands together, steepling them in the same way she had so long ago, on your first day at the Academy. You've come so far, fallen so far. The collar around your throat feels so natural. "Good. Your training begins tomorrow, then. As a Service Slave you will be sleeping in a cage going forward, as most such slaves do. Training will take several weeks, and after that will come your auction. I can only hope you will fetch an acceptable price for the Academy. Eyes down." Your eye contact breaks as you follow her command without even fully thinking of it, to which Vallis merely begins collecting your file back together. Your submission was expected at this point after all, unworthy of commentary. Instead she waves a hand towards the far door. "You have my leave to go. Return to your dorm for the night. Consider your future. Your new life begins at dawn." [[A new life, indeed...->ServEnd2]]

Headmistress Vallis brings her hands together, steepling them in the same way she had so long ago, on your first day at the Academy. You've come so far, fallen so far. The collar around your throat feels so natural. "Good. Your training begins tomorrow, then. As a Concubine you will be given a small bed, to which you will be leashed each night. Training will take several weeks, and after that will come your auction. I can only hope you will fetch an acceptable price for the Academy. Eyes down." Your eye contact breaks as you follow her command without even fully thinking of it, to which Vallis merely begins collecting your file back together. Your submission was expected at this point after all, unworthy of commentary. Instead she waves a hand towards the far door. "You have my leave to go. Return to your dorm for the night. Consider your future. Your new life begins at dawn." [[A new life, indeed...->DaeEnd2]]

Headmistress Vallis brings her hands together, steepling them in the same way she had so long ago, on your first day at the Academy. You've come so far, fallen so far. The collar around your throat feels so natural. "Good. Your training begins tomorrow, then. As a Concubine you will be given a small bed, to which you will be leashed each night. Training will take several weeks, and after that will come your auction. I can only hope you will fetch an acceptable price for the Academy. Eyes down." Your eye contact breaks as you follow her command without even fully thinking of it, to which Vallis merely begins collecting your file back together. Your submission was expected at this point after all, unworthy of commentary. Instead she waves a hand towards the far door. "You have my leave to go. Return to your dorm for the night. Consider your future. Your new life begins at dawn." [[A new life, indeed...->CorEnd2]]

Headmistress Vallis brings her hands together, steepling them in the same way she had so long ago, on your first day at the Academy. You've come so far, fallen so far. The collar around your throat feels so natural. "Good. Your training begins tomorrow, then. As a Governess you will be given a bed if you perform well going forward. If you or the slaves we assign to you fail, however? You will have earned a cage. Training will take several months, and after that will come your auction. I can only hope you will fetch an acceptable price for the Academy. Eyes down." Your eye contact breaks as you follow her command without even fully thinking of it, to which Vallis merely begins collecting your file back together. Your submission was expected at this point after all, unworthy of commentary. Instead she waves a hand towards the far door. "You have my leave to go. Return to your dorm for the night. Consider your future. Your new life begins at dawn." [[A new life, indeed...->GovEnd2]]

Headmistress Vallis brings her hands together, steepling them in the same way she had so long ago, on your first day at the Academy. You've come so far, fallen so far. The collar around your throat feels so natural. "Good. Your training begins tomorrow, then. As a Soubrette you will be moved to a cage going forward, many owners keep their soubrettes at the foot of their bed. Training will take several months, and after that will come your auction. I can only hope you will fetch an acceptable price for the Academy. Eyes down." Your eye contact breaks as you follow her command without even fully thinking of it, to which Vallis merely begins collecting your file back together. Your submission was expected at this point after all, unworthy of commentary. Instead she waves a hand towards the far door. "You have my leave to go. Return to your dorm for the night. Consider your future. Your new life begins at dawn." [[A new life, indeed...->SoubEnd2]]

Headmistress Vallis brings her hands together, steepling them in the same way she had so long ago, on your first day at the Academy. You've come so far, fallen so far. The collar around your throat feels so natural. "Good. Your training begins tomorrow, then. As a Consort you will be provided with a bed going forward, a bit of furniture you best familiarize yourself with-- most Consorts spend a considerable amount of time on their backs upon one, after parties and such. Training will take several months, and after that will come your auction. I can only hope you will fetch an acceptable price for the Academy. Eyes down." Your eye contact breaks as you follow her command without even fully thinking of it, to which Vallis merely begins collecting your file back together. Your submission was expected at this point after all, unworthy of commentary. Instead she waves a hand towards the far door. "You have my leave to go. Return to your dorm for the night. Consider your future. Your new life begins at dawn." [[A new life, indeed...->ConsortEnd2]]

Headmistress Vallis brings her hands together, steepling them in the same way she had so long ago, on your first day at the Academy. You've come so far, fallen so far. The collar around your throat feels so natural. "Good. Your training begins tomorrow, then. As a Courier you will be moved to a particularly small cage going forward, courier offices are usually quite small and cramped. Training will take several weeks, and after that will come your auction. I can only hope you will fetch an acceptable price for the Academy. Eyes down." Your eye contact breaks as you follow her command without even fully thinking of it, to which Vallis merely begins collecting your file back together. Your submission was expected at this point after all, unworthy of commentary. Instead she waves a hand towards the far door. "You have my leave to go. Return to your dorm for the night. Consider your future. Your new life begins at dawn." [[A new life, indeed...->CourEnd2]]

Headmistress Vallis brings her hands together, steepling them in the same way she had so long ago, on your first day at the Academy. You've come so far, fallen so far. The collar around your throat feels so natural. "Good. Your training begins tomorrow, then. As a Catgirl you will be moved to a cage going forward, as fits a pet. Training will take several weeks, and after that will come your auction. I can only hope you will fetch an acceptable price for the Academy. Eyes down." Your eye contact breaks as you follow her command without even fully thinking of it, to which Vallis merely begins collecting your file back together. Your submission was expected at this point after all, unworthy of commentary. Instead she waves a hand towards the far door. "You have my leave to go. Return to your dorm for the night. Consider your future. Your new life begins at dawn." [[A new life, indeed...->CatEnd2]]

Headmistress Vallis brings her hands together, steepling them in the same way she had so long ago, on your first day at the Academy. You've come so far, fallen so far. The collar around your throat feels so natural. "Good. Your training begins tomorrow, then. As a Concubine you will be given a small bed, to which you will be leashed each night. Training will take several weeks, and after that will come your auction. I can only hope you will fetch an acceptable price for the Academy. Eyes down." Your eye contact breaks as you follow her command without even fully thinking of it, to which Vallis merely begins collecting your file back together. Your submission was expected at this point after all, unworthy of commentary. Instead she waves a hand towards the far door. "You have my leave to go. Return to your dorm for the night. Consider your future. Your new life begins at dawn." [[A new life, indeed...->ConcEnd2]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/88uSNNU.jpg" width="35%" height="35%"> Lost in Laminate is still in active development, and this particular scene is uncompleted. You will now be moved to the end of the game. (set: $Ending to 18) [[Onward!->Ending]]

Lost in Laminate is still in active development, and this particular scene is uncompleted. You will now be moved to the end of the game. (set: $Ending to 20) [[Onward!->Ending]]

Your training continues, eventually culminating in your promised auction. Leaving the Celeste Academy for the first time in months you're taking back into Grand Aekora, where you had once roamed freely. Now however you walk the streets in a slave coffle, one slave among so many marching towards the Prime Markets at the center of the city. Torei's largest auction markets are as large as you had imagined, multiple stages running all day and night, the stage and time one was sold upon depending on their role and value. You eventually are brought up upon a smaller stage early in the morning, a time reserved for the more common stock. You're displayed fully, forced to pose and expose yourself as prospective buyers request. When the auction bell is finally rung you pass from the Academy's ownership... and into hands unclear. Unlike most buyers yours is remote, having participated entirely by comm device. Led from the stage you're stored for several days until you're stripped entirely-- apparently at your owner's instructions, until a Market governess comes for you. A simple blindfold and leash is all she needs to direct you, utterly naked, out onto the Torean streets. Where you travel is not clear, but it doesn't take long. Soon she's locking your hands above your head, leaving you to wait bound and blindfolded... [[A door opens nearby. Your owner?->DaeEnd3]]

Lost in Laminate is still in active development, and this particular scene is uncompleted. You will now be moved to the end of the game. (set: $Ending to 26) [[Onward!->Ending]]

Lost in Laminate is still in active development, and this particular scene is uncompleted. You will now be moved to the end of the game. (set: $Ending to 21) [[Onward!->Ending]]

Lost in Laminate is still in active development, and this particular scene is uncompleted. You will now be moved to the end of the game. (set: $Ending to 22) [[Onward!->Ending]]

Lost in Laminate is still in active development, and this particular scene is uncompleted. You will now be moved to the end of the game. (set: $Ending to 24) [[Onward!->Ending]]

They take their time, placing something heavy upon the floor, unzipping it with that distinctive rasp of steel teeth being run down by an equally steel zipper. Then? Silence, long enough you begin to wonder if you've been left alone... only to be met, as if on cue, but footsteps before you. Hands land upon the side of your head, removing your blindfold to reveal... A man. A **familiar** man. Young and wearing glasses, you've been through so much but you have not forgotten *that* face. You met him before, in the VIP room in Club Lush, behind the very door you had thought would lead to your promised deal, your very reason for being on Torei. [[And with him had been... that which appears over his shoulder...->DaeEnd4]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/rFMXUfL.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> The Daemon. "Oh this is *not* how it was supposed to go," the bespectacled man speaks aloud, as you pull against your restraints, still pinning your hands above your head. "But they wouldn't give me my deal, if they didn't get *you*. Thankfully... thankfully you were not that expensive at the auction, otherwise I may have not been able to afford you. But I *did* and now..." He bows, stepping away before exiting out a door nearby. That leaves you alone, with the Daemon. And it's holding something in its hands. A familiar looking mask... [["No, please, I don't want it!"->DaeEnd5No]] [["Leave me alone!"->DaeEnd5No]] [["I knew you would come for me..."->DaeEnd5Yes]]

Your pleas go unanswered. Could the man beneath that isolation laminate even hear you? Did he care? You could not know, but it doesn't matter. This time, you're not being given a choice. Bound securely you cannot escape, and even turning your head proves impossible once one of the Daemon's hands seize your chin. It's so strong. Closer and closer, until finally-- with glorious finality, you feel the impossibly soft laminate of the AI's construction for the very first time. It envelopes your lips, your nose, your chin-- then your entire head in its cool embrace. You're blinded, gagged, deaf, helpless, even as you feel the Daemon moving the back portion into place to complete the seal. Afterward he presses against you, masculinity and femininity joining in rapturous union that takes the form of a simple embrace. Even this first experience feels so strange, so wonderful, so terrifying-- and its only just begun. [[Twelve Hours Later.->DaeEnd6]]

Your words go unanswered. Could the man beneath that isolation laminate even hear you? Did he care? You could not know, but it doesn't matter. This time, you're not being given a choice. Bound securely you cannot escape, and even turning your head proves impossible once one of the Daemon's hands seize your chin. It's so strong. Closer and closer, until finally-- with glorious finality, you feel the impossibly soft laminate of the AI's construction for the very first time. It envelopes your lips, your nose, your chin-- then your entire head in its cool embrace. You're blinded, gagged, deaf, helpless, even as you feel the Daemon moving the back portion into place to complete the seal. Afterward he presses against you, masculinity and femininity joining in rapturous union that takes the form of a simple embrace. Even this first experience feels so strange, so wonderful, so terrifying-- and its only just begun. [[Twelve Hours Later.->DaeEnd6]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/Dw2IHpb.png" width="30%" height="30%"> They have you now. (set: $Status to 4) Your Isolation Laminate is as perfect as you had been lead to believe. Moreso even. The experience of wearing it, in its entirety, is beyond description. And that was *before* the pleasure cycles had started. You lost count of your orgasms somewhere in the twenties, and that had been hours ago when it had directed you to the bed. Now you're utterly lost to the rapture, to its pleasure. Sometimes the male joins you, but other times he's absent from the room. You're not sure why. It's not your concern. It never should have been. Is the absence of ecstasy a feeling? Already you cannot imagine it, but look upon it like a nightmare, horrific and unreal. Only the shame remains, and that grows dimmer with each sensation that emanates from your tortured, rapturous cunt. The thought of your womanhood sends your hands downward, playing across your encapsulated breasts, down along your strictly corseted waist, to the meeting of your thighs. You cannot enter yourself, *They* have already claimed you, but the suit rewards your promiscuity nevertheless. Pleasure atop pleasure. Writhing, moaning, you cum again. [[And again... and again...->DaeEnd7]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/RKQcxsl.jpg" width="35%" height="35%"> "Governess!" The call for you breaks the quiet contemplation of the morning, sunlight streaming in from the veranda just outside your window. You had been shining yourself for the day, your Master's wardrobe providing an acceptable gleam-- but you always strived to look better than that. To set an example. Turning your head the tight choker of a collar at your neck makes itself known, reminding you of your place even when others look to you for direction-- or in fear. The former seems to motivate the slave in the doorway. "Governess, I'm sorry to interrupt... but the new serving girls just arrived. Would you like them at attention, or stored for later? [["At attention, I will address them immediately."->GovEnd4]]

Your Master's newest purchases stand in a rough line as you stride up to meet them, three sets of eyes landing upon you immediately. They're all Torean-born, they *know* just what you are. A governess, a slave who directed others, who wanted nothing more then their submission and service-- and would punish freely if they failed. Drawing up before them you give your prepared speech, a short little thing well practiced by now-- your Master owned considerable property in Aekora's rural districts, and new slaves were a common enough occurence. You speak of their place here upon the estate, of the expectations going forward, and of your shared Master. They seem unrefined, but you will work on that. By the whip or your gentle touch, you've helped sculpt many slaves thus far. When you conclude you shift them into a clean line, on their knees, then delegate their orientation to another of your sub-slaves. You have accounts to go over, a corrective punishment to administer at noon, and of course your daily routine... [[And the day goes on...->GovEnd5]]

That night your new charges join with the other slaves of the estate in the backyard of the manse, where you're staked out upon the ground, four heavy steel rods linked to the cuffs that draw your limbs firmly apart. You've done nothing wrong, indeed your work these past months has been nothing less then exemplary, but you understand why you need to be punished-- the other slaves needed to see, on occasion, that even you could be humbled. You are authority to them, which made such treatment all the more effective at demonstrating your collective Master's superiority over you all. It hurts, the whipping that follows, but through the pain you nevertheless derive a good bit of pleasure, despite it all. When your Master asks for an admission of guilt, you give it freely, writhing in your bondage as he strikes you again... it hurts so good, and you *do* deserve it, don't you? (set: $Ending to 15) [["Yes, Master!"->Ending]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/ZNyYZli.jpg" width="35%" height="35%"> Your client this evening is an offworlder, as many of them have proven to be. So many came to Torei with credits to burn, and so often *you* represented the dream that had motivated them in the first place: a feminine figure in gleaming laminate to have upon their arm, to laugh at their asides, to make them stand out in the crowd, to satisfy their every desire... Tonight that put you in a tight laminate dress, black at its center but semi-transparent along your flanks-- well considered for the charity gala you're attending, your client being the young owner of an upstart shipping consortium. The Ringdom of Alem prominently abutted the Way Up, which explained why many of those attending were offworlders and tourists-- but that only makes you stand out all the more. You're a statement, a demonstration of your client's Torean links and mindset. The collar at your throat underlines that, drawing carefully concealed stares you've nevertheless been taught to identify. They're *curious*, some even jealous as they look to the locked circlet of silvered steel and then to your client, who wears the key for it around his neck. Other small locks decorate your body, at your back, upon your shoes. It was all part of the game, the contract. For the night he owned you, in every sense of the word. [[You smile brightly, leaning in to whisper sweet nothings in his ear...->ConsortEnd4]]

Hours pass, and the gala moves through stages you're now familiar with: the greetings, the toasts, the announcements, a presentation-- then the breaking up into smaller groups, mingling, where the true credits passed between hands. Throughout you attend your client, speaking only when spoken to but doing so well, occasionally leaning in to whisper something-- practical or merely suggestive-- as the situation demanded. Except for the serving girls you're the only slave in attendance, it seems, and that does put you at a bit of a disadvantage-- your heels are more aggressive, your dress so very revealing, that as time ticks by you feel the fatigue building. But you don't have a choice in how things went, and you know it. Instead you merely refocus on your work, leaning forward to emphasize your chest as you address a seemingly impressionable young heiress, performing a Torean reverence just to get the proper rise out of a very fresh looking tourist, allowing your client to tighten your waist cincher just a bit further before he relocks it... [[Midnight comes and goes...->ConsortEnd5]]

The party is over, but your work is not yet done. In the darkened bedroom of his suite you stand before your client as he slowly works through your locks, undoing them one by one-- but he retains the collar, as expected. So many seemed pleased by that particular decoration. Freed from your strictures he undresses you, pulling free your laminate and casting it aside before guiding you down upon the bed. There *you* take the lead, even if he doesn't know it. Adjusting positions, volunteering your mouth-- doing everything in your power to further his satisfaction. Dawn finds you dressed again, waiting on the Torean streets for a ponygirl rickshaw to pick you up. Returning to your owner you will finally be allowed a bit of sleep before the cycle repeats itself, another client waiting for you tonight. You recall they had requested a more outwardly submissive outfit, which would probably mean using a laminate hood. That's unfortunate, you've always hated how they pull on your hair. (set: $Ending to 17) [[Service and pleasure, hand in hand.->Ending]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/FPh6mhf.png" width="35%" height="35%"> Months later, and the stars have changed. After so long on Torei you noticed that first. Yerev Prime is a cosmopolitan world, a place of peace and neutrality, but you're here because it could be found the galaxy's outer rim, as near to Torei itself as one could get. You may have left the planet but its hold upon you remains absolute, as the heavy collar around your throat attests. As one of the half dozen ceremonial guards owned by the Eastern Trade Delegation, an alliance of Torean traders looking to deal more directly with the ships that brought Torei the imports it had come to depend upon, you're owned directy by Envoy Sharo. She's within the Torean embassy, but you remain outside, standing at attention in the red uniform locked upon you. The laminate is a bit heavier then you're used to, the limited supplies of resin for the Wardrobes requiring you wear the suit assigned you for much longer periods then most Toreans would find acceptable. To your side rests a stun baton, you're trained in its use but the Envoy kept less visible guards that would deal with any problems-- your role is to be seen, to demonstrate Torei for anyone brought to the embassy out of curiosity. Looking out from your heavy mask, you're greeted with a small crowd, Torei being infamous enough to draw such attention. [[You've been out here for hours already...->GuardEnd4]]

*"Is she really a slave?"* *"Look at her collar!"* *"I heard they never talk!"* The gossip and discussion follows familiar lines, and your training demanded you ignore such talk-- although the situation does change when a young man steps from the crowd, drawing closer. You can see it in his eyes, a certain curiosity-- and attraction. Your suit leaves little to the imagination, after all. He stops a step or two away, clearly conflicted. [[Step forward.->Guard5Step]] [[Remain in place.->Guard5Remain]]

Protocol and training dictated you remain in place, but you are allowed one step as a warning-- or an invitation. Taking that step clearly draws the attention of the crowd, hushed exchanges being match by the man leaning in, as if to look through the opaque glass of your helmet. Of course, he can't. Realizing that, he points to your arm, a simple enough gesture. "M-May I?" Clearly he wanted to feel your laminate. [[Direct him.->Guard6]]

You remain firmly in place, the slow passage of the planet's twin suns above the sole bit of movement as reflections glide across your glossy uniform. Soon the man seems to notice your intentions, or lackthereof, and steps forward himself. He points to your arm, a simple enough gesture. "M-May I?" Clearly he wanted to feel your laminate. [[Direct him.->Guard6]]

With sudden alacrity you reach forward, seizing his hand. The man nearly jumps out of his loose, textile-based pants-- but you hold firm, pulling him closer. Chest to chest you tilt your helmet as you guide his hand down, where he would would never had the courage to explore: the space between your legs. Your suit lacks a zipper there, or any other means of access-- chastity being required of you-- but the touch alone is electric. Even so he's disappointingly *tourist-minded* and when you finally release pulls back immediately-- blushing heavily. You meanwhile retake your previous position, shock-pole held beside you as the crowd works through what they had just witnessed. [[Torean hospitality, at its finest.->Guard7]]

Later you stand at the ready before the Ceremonial Guard's captain, something like a governess given power over you and your sisters in service. Legs spread, hands locked behind your back by the mag-cuffs integrated into the uniform, she's looking through your report for the day. "Everything seems to be in order," she notes, reaching up to place her hands to either side of your head. Once there she lifts your helmet, the lock undoing automatically at her touch-- allowing you the first breath of unregulated air in sometime. More directly it reveals your gag, a heavy panel style anchored by the straps that encircle your head. The offworlders had been right in that, at least-- you *were* incapable of speech. The captain deactivates her *glass*. "Envoy Sharo took notice of your little display, with the man today. She authorized a few minutes of pleasure activation via your rainbow implants, but your orgasm restriction remains-- is that clear?" When you nod she reaches down, activating the piercings and implants that allowed your sensual hotspots to be toyed with so easily. As the captain leaves you're left to the small cell assigned you, thrusting your hips in vain as the pleasure runs through you... (set: $Ending to 23) [["MMmmmmgh..."->Ending]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/ernFwOQ.png" width="35%" height="35%"> Lost in Laminate is still in active development, and this particular scene is uncompleted. You will now be moved to the end of the game. (set: $Ending to 19) [[Onward!->Ending]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/uvmVNU5.jpg" width="35%" height="35%"> (if: $CorSlave is true)[You're not alone in being purchased by Mistress Royallis-- upon arriving at her penthouse overlooking Grand Aekora you find a familiar face. *Corinth.* It appears you both will be serving as soubrettes, going forward.] Months later morning comes with its familiar routine as you wake in your cage, arm-in-arm with (if: $CorSlave is true)[Corinth](else:)[your Mistress' second soubrette, Kai.] At the foot of Royallis' bed you sleep, and its from that cage that you're eventually released before dawn even breaks. A trip to the wardrobe device follows, after which you and (if: $CorSlave is true)[Corinth](else:)[Kai] and you help adjust your uniforms, ensuring they met the strict standards set by your shared Mistress. Inevitably that leads to a bit of flirting and teasing, your training overriding any other concerns-- but you manage eventually, after your Governess comes in to warn you to hurry. [[Together you finally set about your tasks...->SoubEnd4]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/eI7PaaO.jpg" width="35%" height="35%"> Setting tables, cleaning floors, dusting shelves-- you set about your daily tasks as quickly as you can, knowing the list is intentionally difficult for you to complete. Your Governess and Mistress seemed to agree that you performed best under pressure, after all. ------------ This is one of the endings I'm still playing with! You're about to be fast-forwarded to the ending! (set: $Ending to 16) [[Onward!->Ending]]

Currently there are 27 endings to Lost in Laminate, and the game is heavily dependent on player choice-- play through again to get different endings, different scenes, meet different characters, and get different laminate outfits! Altogether the story is nearly 300,000 words, 1-2 full length novels in length! Did you enjoy the setting? Come join us on the dedicated Torean Discord server, by (link: "clicking here.")[(goto-url: 'https://discord.gg/Y9TPgZg')] There are dedicated roleplaying channels, areas of discussion for Torean culture and history, and of course a live development thread-- where I release early builds for testing! Speaking of feedback-- I love it. Tell me what you think, let me know if you have questions, or even drop a suggestion! Please! Nothing mmakes me happier! And thank you, for sticking it out and trying my game. I hope you like it. [[I want to restart the game.->EndRestart]] [[What's next for Lost in Laminate?->EndNext]]

By clicking the link below you will be returned to the start of Lost in Laminate. All progress and choices made will be wiped, so make sure to save if you wish to keep some record of this playthrough. (link: "RETURN TO START")[(reload:)]

Lost in Laminate can be played from start to finish, but its not yet done. I'm still working on the game, and these are my current focuses: 1) The Nun and Slave with Isabella routes are still unfinished, and will be the focus of my next round of development. These were always intended to be shorter, but very different, approaches to the main plot-- and so expect to see familiar scenes in an entirely new light. 2) Several of the current endings, primarily those that occur if you are placed in the Academy, could be expanded upon-- if I find myself in the mood. The goal would be to make them more like the Truant Officer and Lush Serving Girl options, where a small scene plays afterward. 3) Bug-fixing. Always bug fixing. [[Go back.->Ending2]]

Entering a mindless submissive state is easier than you may have expected. You almost feel like you've been through this before. Yet as the cart rumbles on, and your torture continues, you do make a decision or two. Did you utilize the cuffs? [[Yes...->CuffsYes]] [[No...->CuffsNo]]

(set: $Cuffed to true)And what of the rapturous agony between your legs? How many times did you cum? [[Just once!->CMOne]] [[Four times!->CMFour]] [[Eight times!->CMEight]]

And what of the rapturous agony between your legs? How many times did you cum? [[Just once!->CMOne]] [[Four times!->CMFour]] [[Eight times!->CMEight]]

(set: $OO to 1)Good, good... the riding is ending now, you best start paying attention again... [[You wake...->Event11]]

(set: $OO to 4)Good, good... the riding is ending now, you best start paying attention again... [[You wake...->Event11]]

(set: $OO to 8)Good, good... the riding is ending now, you best start paying attention again... [[You wake...->Event11]]