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: [[START GAME.->Wake]] You've been here before, you need to [[LOAD GAME.->Load]] Reality bends to your will: [[enter the dev console.->Cheat]]

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)(set: $SaveName to "None")(set: $GoldCheat to false)(set: $Inv to (a:))(set: $Gear to 0) [[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 glass device over there, discarded on the chair.->Hotel Glass]] [[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, following the dust storm arriving this afternoon, 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)(set: $Gear to 1) [[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)(set: $Gear to 2) [[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)(set: $Gear to 4) [[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)(set: $Gear to 3) [[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)(set: $Gear to 5) [[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: $Slave is true)[Lacking ankle cuffs, fresh ones are first printed for you, in thick black laminate with heavy steel components to which the chain connects. Undoubtedly following slave-ratings, the chain itself is quite heavy, and rendered fully in black.] <img src="https://i.imgur.com/yh2Q6BK.png"> (if: not ($Inv contains "hotel branded hobble chain"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "hotel branded hobble chain"))] (colour: red)[Hotel-Branded Hobble Chain added!] (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: not ($Inv contains "hotel branded armbinder"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "hotel branded armbinder"))] (colour: red)[Hotel-Branded Armbinder added!] (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%"> (if: not ($Inv contains "nipple piercings"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "nipple piercings"))] (colour: red)[Nipple Piercings added!] [[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)(set: $NunPaidFine to false)(set: $ExtraLead to false)(set: $ExtraCounter 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.* (if: $GoldCheat is true)[(colour: yellow)[CREDIT CHEAT ACTIVATED](set: $debt to it + 10000)] 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: $Strike is > 1)[(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]]]](else:)[The lines for the transport options are rather long at the moment, you should explore a bit more.]

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.] (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: $Slave is true and $debtShower is true and $Strike is < 11)[[["I'm ready to commit, Isabella. Really. I want to be your slave."->Slave CommitFAIL]]] (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: $Level to 2) (if: not ($Inv contains "time locked armbinder"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "time locked armbinder"))] (colour: red)[Time Locked Armbinder added!] 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 $Brand is true)[Your corset makes the position painful in the extreme.] It's then that a new armature appears, this one new, at least to your eyes. Instead of a gripping limb, or a painter-like nozzle, this has something much more sinister: a lancing needle. Long, silvery... and move mechanically down, towards your breasts. The protection offered by your outfit is momentarily vacated, solvants being applied that melt the material readily in a steam that fans suck away greedily. With unnerving precision, the needle is positioned. There is no fanfare, no warning-- it merely shifts suddenly, one moment waiting beside your nipple, the next pierced straight through it. The Wardrobe device doesn't much care for your reaction. It does provide a quite fast acting healing agent, undoubtedly a Torean marvel of bioengineering that would have fascinated the Prospector that is your job title, but that seems less a kindness and more simple utilitarianism. Once healed, a silvery barbell is inserted, your violation now marked by the small silver balls now framing the highlight of your chest. You hang limply as the procedure is repeated on your other nipple. Afterward the nozzles return, reapplying the laminate of your suit. Its as if they had never torn it apart, but the foreign sensations emanating from your chest are a constant reminder... <img src="https://i.imgur.com/5744pPZ.png" width="30%" height="30%"> (if: not ($Inv contains "nipple piercings"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "nipple piercings"))] (colour: red)[Nipple Piercings added!] [[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. So 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 it is 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)(set: $Gear to 5) [[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)(set: $Gear to 5) [[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." [["...soubrette?"->IsSoubAsk]] [[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 and $NunPath is false)[[["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.* (if: not ($Inv contains "Isabella's collar"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "Isabella's collar"))] (colour: red)[Isabella's collar added!] 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)(set: $Gear to 3) 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)(if: $Inv contains "hotel branded armbinder")[(set: $Inv to $Inv - (a: "hotel branded armbinder"))](if: $Inv contains "time locked armbinder")[(set: $Inv to $Inv - (a: "time locked armbinder"))] (colour: green)[Armbinder added removed!] 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)(if: $Inv contains "hotel branded hobble chain")[(set: $Inv to $Inv - (a: "hotel branded hobble chain"))] (colour: green)[Hotel Branded Hobble Chain removed!] "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. (if: $Inv contains "Nipple Piercings")[(set: $Inv to $Inv - (a: "Nipple Piercings"))] (colour: green)[Nipple Piercings Removed!] 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 thinking."](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. I very much doubt she will ask for further consent, or harbor much of what one would call mercy. A Torean Governess is fearsome indeed." [["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 sighs 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 exposes 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, this second unfortunate 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 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 now that she stands over you, 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)(set: $ExtraCounter to it + 10)(if: $ExtraCounter is > 149 and $ExtraLead is false)[ It takes a moment, but the Sister speaks up again after a moment's reflection. "You have thus far donated $ExtraCounter credits to the Order, and this is a most remarkable gift of charity given your situation. As a slave and Sister of the Order I have no personal possessions with which to reward you, but allow me to give you a small token of my esteem." (if: $Level is < 2)[She presses something much like a coin into your hand,](else:)[She slides something much like a coin into the hidden pocket on your suit,] a glimpse of strange writing on one side unexplained by the surprising weight of the material. "Such a token has many uses, but in your instance I would recommend showing it to the Lead attendants once you're ready to travel with them. It would have to be the Lead, and only during the period when travel is free. That is when we Sisters usually travel, and that would ensure the attendants recognize it. But rest assured, it would provide a small revelation I think." (set: $ExtraLead to true) ] [[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)(set: $ExtraCounter to it + 25)(if: $ExtraCounter is > 149 and $ExtraLead is false)[ It takes a moment, but the Sister speaks up again after a moment's reflection. "You have thus far donated $ExtraCounter credits to the Order, and this is a most remarkable gift of charity given your situation. As a slave and Sister of the Order I have no personal possessions with which to reward you, but allow me to give you a small token of my esteem." (if: $Level is < 2)[She presses something much like a coin into your hand,](else:)[She slides something much like a coin into the hidden pocket on your suit,] a glimpse of strange writing on one side unexplained by the surprising weight of the material. "Such a token has many uses, but in your instance I would recommend showing it to the Lead attendants once you're ready to travel with them. It would have to be the Lead, and only during the period when travel is free. That is when we Sisters usually travel, and that would ensure the attendants recognize it. But rest assured, it would provide a small revelation I think." (set: $ExtraLead to true) ] [[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)(set: $ExtraCounter to it + 50)(if: $ExtraCounter is > 149 and $ExtraLead is false)[ It takes a moment, but the Sister speaks up again after a moment's reflection. "You have thus far donated $ExtraCounter credits to the Order, and this is a most remarkable gift of charity given your situation. As a slave and Sister of the Order I have no personal possessions with which to reward you, but allow me to give you a small token of my esteem." (if: $Level is < 2)[She presses something much like a coin into your hand,](else:)[She slides something much like a coin into the hidden pocket on your suit,] a glimpse of strange writing on one side unexplained by the surprising weight of the material. "Such a token has many uses, but in your instance I would recommend showing it to the Lead attendants once you're ready to travel with them. It would have to be the Lead, and only during the period when travel is free. That is when we Sisters usually travel, and that would ensure the attendants recognize it. But rest assured, it would provide a small revelation I think." (set: $ExtraLead to true) ] [[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)(set: $ExtraCounter to it + 100)(if: $ExtraCounter is > 149 and $ExtraLead is false)[ It takes a moment, but the Sister speaks up again after a moment's reflection. "You have thus far donated $ExtraCounter credits to the Order, and this is a most remarkable gift of charity given your situation. As a slave and Sister of the Order I have no personal possessions with which to reward you, but allow me to give you a small token of my esteem." (if: $Level is < 2)[She presses something much like a coin into your hand,](else:)[She slides something much like a coin into the hidden pocket on your suit,] a glimpse of strange writing on one side unexplained by the surprising weight of the material. "Such a token has many uses, but in your instance I would recommend showing it to the Lead attendants once you're ready to travel with them. It would have to be the Lead, and only during the period when travel is free. That is when we Sisters usually travel, and that would ensure the attendants recognize it. But rest assured, it would provide a small revelation I think." (set: $ExtraLead to true) ] [[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 the greater faith to which I, and all our Sisters, ultimately serve. It is... ancient, from the time of the 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 Vow 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* ]} {**Slot D:** (if: (saved-games:) contains "file D")[ (link: "((Load your saved game))")[(load-game: "file D")] ] (else:)[ *empty slot* ]} {**Slot E:** (if: (saved-games:) contains "file E")[ (link: "((Load your saved game))")[(load-game: "file E")] ] (else:)[ *empty slot* ]} {**Slot F:** (if: (saved-games:) contains "file F")[ (link: "((Load your saved game))")[(load-game: "file F")] ] (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 quickly it becomes impossible to 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 without conscious direction, 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 your 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, although with the addition of 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 owner, 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 passes, her pure black outfit and bright red lips a signature all their own. You can almost smell the cinnamon of her cigarette. Isabella, the Mistress from the bench you met before. She looks 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 sighs 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 talk 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 directed to stand. 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: $Inv contains "hotel branded hobble chain")[(set: $Inv to $Inv - (a: "hotel branded hobble chain"))] (colour: green)[Hotel Branded Hobble Chain removed!] (if: $Inv contains "hotel branded armbinder")[(set: $Inv to $Inv - (a: "hotel branded armbinder"))] (if: $Inv contains "time locked armbinder")[(set: $Inv to $Inv - (a: "time locked armbinder"))] (colour: green)[Armbinder added removed!]} (if: $Level is < 3)[That exposure is taken advantage of as hands move you to your feet, voices whisperings words of preparation. Before you can ascertain their intent, sharp pain breaks out across your nipples-- while laminate arms restrain the struggle that only follows most naturally. You realize now your nipples have been pierced, such sensitive flesh made all the moreso by the metal adornments you now bear. (if: not ($Inv contains "Nipple Piercings"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "Nipple Piercings"))] (colour: red)[Nipple Piercings added!]] The process continues afterward, this time focusing on your nose. Gloved hands seize your neck, your head, forcing you to look up-- just as pain blossoms from your nose, between the nostrils. A dozen hypotheses spring forth, but one is confirmed when you are released, head hanging in a way that allows the ring now piercing your septum to shift slightly. Euphoria bore such adornment, now so do you. (if: not ($Inv contains "septum piercing"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "septum piercing"))] (colour: red)[Septum Piercing added!] [[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 laminate, 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. (if: not ($Inv contains "Sister's raiments"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "Sister's raiments"))] (colour: red)[Sister's Raiments added!] 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. (set: $Gear to 6) 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 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: $Status to 3)(if: not ($Inv contains "collar of the primrose"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "collar of the primrose"))] (colour: red)[Collar of the Primrose added!] [["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 with 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 a 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: $ExtraLead is true)[[[It's time to leave, and use the strange token you got from Sister Euphoria!->LeadLeaveSelfExtra]]]] (if: $Level is > 1)[[[It's time to leave, approach one of the Lead attendants for help, given your armbinder.->LeadLeaveHelp]] (if: $ExtraLead is true)[[[It's time to leave, and use the strange token you got from Sister Euphoria!->LeadLeaveHelpExtra]]]]

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)(set: $ExtraCounter to it + 5)(if: $ExtraCounter is > 149 and $ExtraLead is false)[ It takes a moment, but the Sister speaks up again after a moment's reflection. "You have thus far donated $ExtraCounter credits to the Order, and this is a most remarkable gift of charity given your situation. As a slave and Sister of the Order I have no personal possessions with which to reward you, but allow me to give you a small token of my esteem." (if: $Level is < 2)[She presses something much like a coin into your hand,](else:)[She slides something much like a coin into the hidden pocket on your suit,] a glimpse of strange writing on one side unexplained by the surprising weight of the material. "Such a token has many uses, but in your instance I would recommend showing it to the Lead attendants once you're ready to travel with them. It would have to be the Lead, and only during the period when travel is free. That is when we Sisters usually travel, and that would ensure the attendants recognize it. But rest assured, it would provide a small revelation I think." (set: $ExtraLead to true) ] [[A good deed done quietly.->Nun Hub]]

Welcome to *Lost in Laminate*, an interactive fiction story set on the planet Torei-- a (relatively) recently rediscovered 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 420,000 words, effectively novel-sized, and is nearly completed. Multiple playthroughs are encouraged, events can differ signficantly and there are 28 possible endings! If you have never played a game like this before, [[click here to check out the controls.->ControlNote]] This game uses a variety of images, a note regarding which [[can be found here.->ImageNote]] 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! If you would like to toss a few credits towards the author, (colour: orange)[my tip-jar is available on Patreon [[by clicking here.->PatPage]]] VERSION: 7.0 ANNIVERSARY EDITION [[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, preventing 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 keep 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, muscles 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 recognize a transport platform much like that which you had departed from-- 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: $Inv contains "hotel branded hobble chain")[(set: $Inv to $Inv - (a: "hotel branded hobble chain"))] (colour: green)[Hotel Branded Hobble Chain removed!] (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: $Inv contains "hotel branded armbinder")[(set: $Inv to $Inv - (a: "hotel branded armbinder"))](if: $Inv contains "time locked armbinder")[(set: $Inv to $Inv - (a: "time locked armbinder"))] (colour: green)[Armbinder removed!]] (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, legs 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. (if: not ($Inv contains "Isabella's ring gag"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "Isabella's ring gag"))](if: not ($Inv contains "oral cock insert"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "oral cock insert"))](if: not ($Inv contains "slave suit plugs"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "slave suit plugs"))] (colour: red)[Isabella's ring gag and oral cock insert added! Slave Suit Plugs updated!] [["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. (if: not ($Inv contains "bolero straitjacket"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "bolero straitjacket"))] (colour: red)[Bolero Straitjacket added!] (set: $Gear to 27) [["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... (colour: green)[Oral Cock Insert removed!] ...before plunging it between your lips again. "You just can't do anything about it with that jacket on, can you?" (colour: red)[Oral Cock Insert added!] 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 that the Ringdom of Aekora itself technically has no direct access to the mountain onto which the Way Up descended. But it does have a Customs Enclave, a small area rented to the Ringdom, which you could reach by a short land shuttle ride. That would be Corinth's destination, and thus eventually your own, but indecision still grips you. Do you truly intend to give up on your mysterious deal? That *was* your entire reason for coming to Torei in the first place, you've pieced together that much at least from your shattered memories. You still possess only a comparable handful of credits, and almost anything could happen during your attempt to reach the Way Up. Perhaps you would need the credits or... whatever it is your deal entails. Certainly there would be a customs checkpoint(if: $Slave is true)[ and you doubt they would allow one such as yourself in a slave uniform to walk freely through]. But on the other hand, deep in your mind, there is that simple feral flight response, burning in your chest and throat. The need to *flee*, damn the consequences. You can feel it now, pushing you hard, whispering you should not only go for the Space Elevator but that you should run, not walk, in pursuit of that goal. [[You change your mind, and divert to the Club.->ClubTravel]] [[Flee to the Way Up!->WayUpTravel2]]

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**. (if: not ($Inv contains "wet slut thigh bands"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "wet slut thigh bands"))] (colour: red)[Wet and Slut Thigh Bands added!] "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..." (set: $GagMerit to 0) [[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)(if: $Inv contains "oral cock insert")[(set: $Inv to $Inv - (a: "oral cock insert"))] (colour: green)[Oral Cock Insert Removed!] "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. (if: $Inv contains "Isabella's ring gag")[(set: $Inv to $Inv - (a: "Isabella's ring gag"))] (colour: green)[Isabella's Ring Gag Removed!] "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. (if: $Inv contains "oral cock insert")[(set: $Inv to $Inv - (a: "oral cock insert"))] (colour: green)[Oral Cock Insert Removed!] "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. (if: $Inv contains "Isabella's ring gag")[(set: $Inv to $Inv - (a: "Isabella's ring gag"))] (colour: green)[Isabella's Ring Gag Removed!] "What... what has happened to you?" (set: $GagMerit to it + 1) [["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." (set: $GagMerit to it + 4) [[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: $IsGagged to true) Taking up the pair of gags, she begins with the ring, carefully placing it between your teeth before securing the strap behind your head. Unlike Isabella, her work is a bit fumbling, but she persists-- its not like it could really be done wrong, it only takes long. In short order your mouth is returned to a permanent 'O', your red lips as inviting as they are submissive. Taking up the secondary component, the phallus, meanwhile causes Corinth to shudder a bit. "I'm... really sorry about this." (if: not ($Inv contains "Isabella's ring gag"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "Isabella's ring gag"))] (colour: red)[Isabella's Ring Gag Added!] Sliding it in slowly, you nearly choke on it as you did the first time, but the length seems well considered-- enough to be uncomfortable, but not enough to endanger you. Nevertheless the sensation of the smooth rod being pushed between your lips stokes the fury between your legs, your cunt pressing forward, seeking stimulation. Corinth notices just as she finishes, the magnetic base snapping to the ring with a click. Your shameless seeking of attention is met with a mighty blush from the girl, who retreats as quickly as she could. (if: not ($Inv contains "oral cock insert"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "oral cock insert"))] (colour: red)[Oral Cock Insert Added!] "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." (if: not ($Inv contains "Isabella's ring gag"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "Isabella's ring gag"))] (colour: red)[Isabella's Ring Gag Added!] (if: not ($Inv contains "oral cock insert"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "oral cock insert"))] (colour: red)[Oral Cock Insert Added!] [[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." (if: not ($Inv contains "Isabella's ring gag"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "Isabella's ring gag"))] (colour: red)[Isabella's Ring Gag Added!] (if: not ($Inv contains "oral cock insert"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "oral cock insert"))] (colour: red)[Oral Cock Insert Added!] [[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..."->IsClubTrav]]]

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]]

(set: $Ending to 12)(set: $Strike to 0)<img src="https://i.imgur.com/fdJVUi9.png" width="30%" height="30%"> A gloved hand from Euphoria indicates your escort, a man leaning against the supporting pole of the awning above. He’s tall, somewhere over six feet, with the broad shoulders and clear musculature of his gender—so rare on Torei. The full laminate suit he wears only emphasizes that point, the slick glossy material pulled tight across body and face, the later forming a heavy looking gasmask. “Master Petros owns an estate in the hinterland,” Euphoria says, hands clasped together before her in prayer as much as explanation. “His family has been one of the leading suppliers of raw laminate to Aekora for decades now. We of the Order have enjoyed that familial patronage for nearly as long, and his personally for much the same.” She turns her gaze from the man, back to you. As always, its hard to hold against the intensity her red pupils could exude. “It is important to note that Master Petros is a traditionalist and holds women to *very* strict standards. Slaves such as us even more so. I would suggest you follow my lead in his presence and remain supremely deferential towards the Master at all times.” [[“Understood, Sister.”->NunPet2]] [[“I will do my best, Sister."->NunPet2B]]

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: $ExtraCounter to it + $debt)(set: $debt to 0)(if: $ExtraCounter is > 149 and $ExtraLead is false)[ It takes a moment, but the Sister speaks up again after a moment's reflection. "You have thus far donated $ExtraCounter credits to the Order, and this is a most remarkable gift of charity given your situation. As a slave and Sister of the Order I have no personal possessions with which to reward you, but allow me to give you a small token of my esteem." (if: $Level is < 2)[She presses something much like a coin into your hand,](else:)[She slides something much like a coin into the hidden pocket on your suit,] a glimpse of strange writing on one side unexplained by the surprising weight of the material. "Such a token has many uses, but in your instance I would recommend showing it to the Lead attendants once you're ready to travel with them. It would have to be the Lead, and only during the period when travel is free. That is when we Sisters usually travel, and that would ensure the attendants recognize it. But rest assured, it would provide a small revelation I think." (set: $ExtraLead to true) ] [["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 of the line.->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 to be part of the festivities, 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 to *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: $Wet to true) It's a promise kept in short order, although you're too far away from the door to truly observe from the slave anything more then a flash of blue and a scandalously short skirt. But your attendent returns to your side afterward, a band each stretched between the fingers of her hands. "Leg up, one at a time." Sliding them into place proves easy at first, but grows progressively harder-- by the time she seats them properly upon your upper thigh they're quite tight. "There we go! Follow me." She leads you out of the line and towards the front door as you look down, staring at the laminate bands now encircling each thigh. They're red, the lettering as bold as it is white-- **FUCK** on one, **TOY** on the other. It's hard not to blush just thinking about wearing them in public, and harder still when you notice several of those in the line you're passing staring at the additions to your wardrobe. (if: not ($Inv contains "fuck toy thigh bands"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "fuck toy thigh bands"))] (colour: red)[Fuck Toy Thigh Bands added!] 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: $Slave is true)[We need only sync your suit controls to my glass."](else:)[We need only wait here, and one of our slaves will bring them out for you-- we have our own wardrobe machines within, of course." It's a promise kept in short order, although you're too far away from the door to truly observe from the slave anything more then a flash of blue and a scandalously short skirt. But your attendent returns to your side afterward, a pair of phallic devices held before her, one in each hand. Actually installing them takes some effort, the public nature of your position and their sheer size making it quite the challenge-- but the attendant's hands are practiced... and your body is strangely willing.] (if: not ($Inv contains "club lush plugs"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "club lush plugs"))] (colour: red)[Club Lush Plugs added!] 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: $Ballet to true) It's a promise kept in short order, although you're too far away from the door to truly observe from the slave anything more then a flash of blue and a scandalously short skirt. Your attendent returns soon after, holding up the boots for your observation. The heels are *staggering*, the design clearly intended to quite literally keep you on your toes. Matched to your laminate's color, they appear intended to rise to your mid-calf and are topped along the uppermost rim with a locking band that would prevent access to the lacing once put into place. Motionioning for you to sit down, she slides them onto your feet with the practiced hands only Torean experience could provide. "There we are." (if: not ($Inv contains "club lush boots"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "club lush boots"))] (colour: red)[Club Lush Boots added!] 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. Assume 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)(set: $Gear to 7) "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 see that she 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]] ] <meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=0.86, maximum-scale=3.0, minimum-scale=0.86">

=><= **CURRENT OUTFIT:** {(if: $Gear is 0)[<img src="https://i.postimg.cc/QCPQwnrw/11.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> *You are as you were born, nude.*] (if: $Gear is 1)[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/UD5UqLx.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> *Classic 8-Point Catsuit, Metallic Blue: from one of Torei's most popular laminate design firms, this classic ensemble is often used as the base upon which more restrictive devices are affixed.*] (if: $Gear is 2)[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/WEdo76r.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> *Classic Smoke Grey Catsuit and Harness: another popular design from the Torean design houses, this outfit is notable for its use of semi-transparent laminate. While the wearer's cunt is hidden by the opaque banded formed by the zipper, most everything else is on full display. The harness and additional thigh bands provide easy restraint access.*] (if: $Gear is 3)[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/mEoSzB3.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> *Sexretarial Delight Uniform: perhaps the single most commonly used baseline laminate schematic, the classic sexretarial uniform is standard dress code for many businesses across Torei. *] (if: $Gear is 4)[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/vaDhUa4.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> *Branded Advert Ballet Catsuit: a Torean staple, Advert outfits provide small amounts of credits (and complimentary outfits) for those willing to wear whatever is printed upon them. Your current design is sponsored by Danise Incorporated, a small scale trading firm. The inclusion of corset and ballet boots indicate a sponsor seeking its "freelance models" always maintain a proper posture.*] (if: $Gear is 5)[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/7hkuAc4.jpg" width="50%" height="50%"> *Standardized Slave-Rated Enclosure Suit: a common sight on Aekoran streets, the Standardized Slave Suit is a fully enclosing uniform that ensures personal chastity, posture, and humility. Internal inserts are locked inside by the lower zipper, while the breath regulating mask above provides subtle endurance training. Freewombs wearing this particular uniform are required to submit to certain Slave Code regulations until suit removal.*] (if: $Gear is 6)[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/2UPfyWF.jpg" width="50%" height="50%"> *Novice Regalia of the Primrose: exclusively worn by Sisters of the Order, this restrictive outfit was designed to both remind the wearer of their vows and allow for their easy restraint. Freewombs and men are encouraged to personally examine any Sister's femininity at their leisure.*] (if: $Gear is 7)[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/2UPfyWF.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> *Club Lush Adjusted Advert Suit: the previously black and white suit now features violet designs, Club Lush's logo, as well as the name itself on your back and flanks.*] (if: $Gear is 8)[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/hjBAqe9.jpg" width="40%" height="40%"> *Club Lush Standard Uniform: the uniform worn by the slaves that work as serving girls at Club Lush, it is specifically designed to be flirty. A short skirt ensures the wearer's panties are display at the barest shifting of the hips, and tall platforms draw attention to the stockings and garters, to which a belt provides support for the latter. The upper bands of the stockings and a small logo above the left breast bear the Club's logo, and the included glasses are synced to the service/reward/punishment system utilized by the Club.*] (if: $Gear is 9)[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/hbs73qN.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> Truant Prisoner Uniform: *designed for long term wear and confinement, this uniform is the standard utilized in most Ministry of Truants detainment facilities across Torei. Consisting of a base black catsuit and blaze orange leotard straitjacket, the latter both provides easy restraint of the prisoner and marks them clearly as part of the penal system. Black lettering on the back reads: TRUANT as well as their registered Truancy number. An integrated collar is fitted with quick-snap hardpoints for the fitting of catchpoles, allowing prisoners to be restrained and moved at a distance by Officers.*] (if: $Gear is 10)[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/BQIuA91.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> Isolation Laminate: *worn exclusively by Daemons in service to the polar AIs, these all inclusive and restrictive uniforms are the pinnacle of Torean laminate technology and design. Little is known about their inner workings, but wearers are believed to be fully integrated with suit systems, providing full control, access, and manipulation by the AIs and their delegated runtimes. Often torturous stimulation or punishment are believed to be constant. (colour: purple)[You love how it makes you obey.]*] (if: $Gear is 11)[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/rPZKbdc.jpg"width="50%" height="50%"> Conscripted Truant Officer Uniform: *one of the handful of designs available for the slave-officers conscripted into service for the Ministry of Truants, this design includes a heavy tracking collar synced to your commanding officer's personal glass device.*] (if: $Gear is 12)[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/BywQYCp.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> Celeste Academy Student Uniform: *the standard uniform required of all students of Celeste Academy, the two main components are a semi-transparent blouse and short pleated skirt. Students are reminded to practice their reverence, and to perform it upon greeting any faculty.*] (if: $Gear is 13)[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/RKQcxsl.jpg" width="35%" height="35%"> Slave Overseer Outfit #343: *one of the outfits approved by your owner, its strong lines and sharp profile suggest power-- but the integrated collar and risque cut underline your dual positions as Governess to your sub-sisters and dutiful slave to your Master.*] (if: $Gear is 14)[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/eI7PaaO.jpg" width="35%" height="35%"> Classic Soubrette Household Livery: *one of a myriad of outfits designed to conform to the classical Torean household position of soubrette. Flirty and utilitarian, the short skirt provides ample opportunity for mischief, but the corset ensures posture, and the included apron protects against spills.*] (if: $Gear is 15)[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/ZNyYZli.jpg" width="35%" height="35%"> Courtesan's Evening Dress: *semi-transparent on the flanks, this richly designed dress is intended to be alluring-- and is frequently used by freewombs seeking a good collar, or slaves already serving in the position to which they are best suited. Breast cups provide additional lifting and support. Panties are not recommended.*] (if: $Gear is 16)[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/88uSNNU.jpg" width="35%" height="35%"> High Protocol Courier Uniform: *as outlined in the Torean Slave Codes, subsection 213, this uniform is intended for courier-slaves operating in a full protocol position. A heavy mask and breathing apparatus provide immunity to dust storms, and the integrated virtual administrator directs the slave on its routes and provides encouragement. The backpack is also sealed, preventing unauthorized access and protecting the documents or parcels within.*] (if: $Gear is 17)[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/ernFwOQ.png" width="35%" height="35%"> Heavy Restraint Lifestyle Kitten Uniform: *designed for slaves performing in the classical catgirl household position, this particular design is intended for constant wear and heavy bondage. Consisting primarily of the black catsuit, white piping provides an appeasing offset of color. Included restraints include collar with bell, paw bondage mitts, and leg bindings. The tail is mounted to a large buttplug, and the laminate mask includes magnetic mounts for blindfold or gag usage. Not recommended for inexperienced slaves.*] (if: $Gear is 18)[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/G0lGB6M.png" width="55%" height="55%"> Diarch's Choice Slave Uniform: *the standard uniform designed for use by Diarch's Choice brand hotel staff, slaves should be improved with platinum blonde hair and violet cosmetics to meet established aesthetics. The main blouse is semi-transparent, while accessories such as the included pumps and pencil skirt are glossy black.*] (if: $Gear is 19)[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/S2bG5Ap.png" width="30%" height="30%"> Violet Doll Catsuit: *one of the thousands of themed and coordinated outfits included with your purchase, this particular design can be considered indicative of much of the collection. A semi-transparent catsuit anchors the ensemble, with accessories including the heavy duty corset, armbinder, and posture collar in black. Vaginal and anal inserts are included.*] (if: $Gear is 20)[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/9l8QZNZ.png" width="30%" height="30%"> Naomi Couture Spring Collection Bespoke Wedding Dress: *unlike most Torean outfits, this one was hand formed and built instead of being manufactured by a Wardrobe Device. Consisting of an open neck dress with flowered embellishments, the corset is particularly restrictive and features elaborate filigree. A full set of undergarments are included, panties, stockings, and garter belt.*] (if: $Gear is 21)[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/FPh6mhf.png" width="35%" height="35%"> Ceremonial Torean Guard Armor: *designed for long term wear beyond normal Torean environments and resources, this fully enclosed uniform features integrated front and rear plugs. Inside the helmet the wearer is fitted with a secondary close-fitting layer of laminate, to which a full head harness and gag are generally affixed.*] (if: $Gear is 22)[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/wZm7GMo.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> Ministry of Truants Ponygirl Tack and Harness: *intended for experienced ponygirls serving in heavy restraint, this uniform features a full sequence harness and armbinder. An integrated bit gag allows for easy guidance, while blinders prevent the pony from being startled. The boots are particularly advanced, the hooved and shod gravity heel design built around height risers and a full amplification kit.*] (if: $Gear is 23)[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/A6LtL86.jpg" width="35%" height="35%"> The Red Dress: *selected by Corinth for your use tonight, this lengthy evening dress features thin-lam stockings, opera length gloves, and a design intended to keep your legs fully exposed. Beneath the dress itself a rather intensive set of lingerie is included...*] (if: $Gear is 24)[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/l6MJckM.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> An Offworlder Ensemble: *a common (and rather cheap) offworlder design consisting of a simple blouse, pants, and flat shoes. The textiles are synthetic, a bit rough, and perhaps mildly uncomfortable.*] (if: $Gear is 25)[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/S2bG5Ap.png" width="30%" height="30%"> Counterfeit Doll Outfit: *intended to mimic the usual designs and patterns utilized by Celeste Academy, this particular example is rather poorly made. Its seams are heavier than any proper Doll would be comfortable with, and you doubt it will hold together for very long. Nevertheless it is quite restrictive, and uncomfortable.*] (if: $Gear is 26)[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/qS3FRyD.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> Ministry of Truants Detainee Uniform: *Torean law can be quite specific when it comes to uniforms required of certain segments of the population, and this example is no exception. Intended for those being detained for a significant time without specific charges, this outfit consists of a transparent laminate catsuit atop which a white leotard with integrated straitjacket is placed. Included maglocks upon the mask provide easy mounting of blindfolds and gags, which are recommended by Ministry regulations.*] (if: $Gear is 27)[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/TbEgqYZ.jpg" width="50%" height="50%"> Isabella's Adjusted Slave Uniform: *tweaked by your new Mistress, Isabella has removed your mask but retained most everything else, while also including a set of more aggressive accessories.*] } **Accessories:** (if: $Inv's length is > 0)[You are currently outfitted with the following accessories: (print: $Inv.join(", ")).](else:)[You currently are not wearing any accessories.] {(click: "hotel branded hobble chain")[(go-to: "hotel branded hobble chain")] (click: "nipple piercings")[(go-to: "nipple piercings")] (click: "hotel branded armbinder")[(go-to: "hotel branded armbinder")] (click: "time locked armbinder")[(go-to: "time locked armbinder")] (click: "Isabella's collar")[(go-to: "Isabella's collar")] (click: "collar of the primrose")[(go-to: "collar of the primrose")] (click: "septum piercing")[(go-to: "septum piercing")] (click: "Isabella's ring gag")[(go-to: "Isabella's ring gag")] (click: "oral cock insert")[(go-to: "oral cock insert")] (click: "bolero straitjacket")[(go-to: "bolero straitjacket")] (click: "wet slut thigh bands")[(go-to: "wet slut thigh bands")] (click: "fuck toy thigh bands")[(go-to: "fuck toy thigh bands")] (click: "club lush plugs")[(go-to: "club lush plugs")] (click: "club lush boots")[(go-to: "club lush boots")] (click: "club lush nipple piercings")[(go-to: "club lush nipple piercings")] (click: "club lush clit piercing")[(go-to: "club lush clit piercing")] (click: "club lush collar")[(go-to: "club lush collar")] (click: "daemon control suite")[(go-to: "daemon control suite")] (click: "daemon collar")[(go-to: "daemon collar")] (click: "academy collar")[(go-to: "academy collar")] (click: "subdermal slave chip")[(go-to: "subdermal slave chip")] (click: "slave septum piercing")[(go-to: "slave septum piercing")] (click: "slave clit piercing")[(go-to: "slave clit piercing")] (click: "Corinth's collar")[(go-to: "Corinth's collar")] (click: "counterfeit doll binder")[(go-to: "counterfeit doll binder")] (click: "counterfeit doll gag")[(go-to: "counterfeit doll gag")] (click: "vibe wand")[(go-to: "vibe wand")] (click: "basic doll gag")[(go-to: "basic doll gag")] (click: "basic doll binder")[(go-to: "basic doll binder")] (click: "slave suit plugs")[(go-to: "slave suit plugs")] (click: "laminate blindfold")[(go-to: "laminate blindfold")] (click: "Sister's raiments")[(go-to: "Sister's raiments")] (click: "Petros' cock")[(go-to: "Petros' cock")] (click: "Petros' hobble")[(go-to: "Petros' hobble")] (click: "Petros' ball")[(go-to: "Petros' ball")] (click: "vow of chastity belt")[(go-to: "vow of chastity belt")] }

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]]

(if: $IsSlave is true)["Ask your questions," Tysus commands. Isabella sits to your side and above, listening with interest as well.](else:)[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]] (if: $IsSlave is true)[[["Those are all the questions I have, Mistress Sargon."->Sargon5]]](else:)[[["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 sat 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." (if: $IsSlave is true)[She taps her hand on the table, looking to Isabella. "Although I suspect now you two may already know where it is."](else:)[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: $IsSlave is true)[It is a problem we must address together."](else:)[(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."] (if: $SargonBother is false)[[["Can you take me with you, up into the VIP area?"->SargonVIP]]]] [["I want to ask about something else."->SargonDae]]

"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 of the world beyond their Isolation Laminate. 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]]

(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]]]

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]]]

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]]

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]]

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. (colour: green)[Inventory cleared!] Chiming happily, the Wardrobe changes modes. (set: $Inv to (a:)) *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: not ($Inv contains "club lush nipple piercings"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "club lush nipple piercings"))] (if: $Pierced is true)[There they find your nipples already pierced, a fact that seems to please the machine as it moves downward after only a moment syncing with them, focusing elsewhere. (colour: red)[Club Lush Piercings Activated!]](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) (colour: red)[Club Lush Piercings Added!]] 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. (if: not ($Inv contains "club lush clit piercing"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "club lush clit piercing"))] (colour: red)[Club Lush Clit Piercing added!] 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. (set: $Gear to 8) [["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. (if: not ($Inv contains "club lush collar"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "club lush collar"))] (colour: red)[Club Lush Collar added!] [[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]]

"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 positioned 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 positioned 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 positioned 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." A cold shiver runs up your spine. [["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." A cold shiver runs up your spine. [["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 stranger 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]]

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 be reefs ahead on which you will founder, to sink anyway. Or maybe-- just maybe-- you could still make it to the Way Up. Escape Torei. Break free 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. (set: $Ending to 1) [[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)(set: $Gear to 10) (colour: green)[Inventory cleared!] 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. (colour: purple)[It never should have been.] (colour: red)[Daemon Control Suite added!] (colour: red)[Daemon Collar #200426 added!] (set: $Inv to (a:))(if: not ($Inv contains "daemon control suite"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "daemon control suite"))](if: not ($Inv contains "daemon collar"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "daemon collar"))] 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 lead yourself to this fate, it could be so easily done away with. If you 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. (colour: purple)[*"Daemon..."*] [[Six months later.->DaeEx]]

<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, passes by 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: $Wet to true)The bands are first, circles of glossy laminate she holds strethced between thumb and forefinger. "Leg up, one at a time." Sliding them into place proves easy at first, but grows progressively harder-- by the time she seats them properly upon your upper thigh they're quite tight. They're red, the lettering as bold as it is white-- **FUCK** on one, **TOY** on the other. It's hard not to blush just thinking about wearing them in public, and harder still when you notice several of those in the line staring at the additions to your wardrobe. (if: not ($Inv contains "fuck toy thigh bands"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "fuck toy thigh bands"))] (colour: red)[Fuck Toy Thigh Bands added!]] (if: $Blue is true or $Smoke is true or $Slave is true or $Sec is true)[(set: $Ballet to true)The heels are *staggering*, the design clearly intended to quite literally keep you on your toes. Matched to your laminate's color, they appear intended to rise to your mid-calf and are topped along the uppermost rim with a locking band that would prevent access to the lacing once put into place. Motionioning for you to sit down, she slides them onto your feet with the practiced hands only Torean experience could provide. Even standing still requires a demonstration of balance, while walking leaves you wobbly and teetering. The attendant pauses to give you some time to practice, and eventually you *do* manage to not embarrass yourself. (if: not ($Inv contains "club lush boots"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "club lush boots"))] (colour: red)[Club Lush Boots added!]] (if: $Slave is true)["We need only sync your suit controls to my glass, for the plugs." ](else:)[Now come the plugs, a pair of phallic devices held before her, one in each hand. Actually installing them takes some effort, the public nature of your position and their sheer size making it quite the challenge-- but the attendant's hands are practiced... and your body is strangely willing. Afterward she holds up her glass, finger poised over a ready button. (if: not ($Inv contains "club lush plugs"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "club lush plugs"))] (colour: red)[Club Lush Plugs added!]] (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 forced 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 helped 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. "Consider this a warning. I will be pushing your ID to the central Ministry database, marking you as a temporary parolee. Do not wander far, and do not make me come and find you again. If you do not contact me I *will* track you down, and then I will utilize this little device to make sure you never run off again. By piercing your septum, and giving you a nice little tracking ring. As a *starter.* Parolees who require forcible detainment 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. (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)(set: $Gear to 9)(set: $Inv to (a:)) "Prisoner #38511b, this court finds you *guilty.*" (colour: green)[Inventory cleared!] 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. 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]] [["Tourist Information" in bright neon marks a data kiosk nearby, check that out.->Guide]] (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 Academy 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 Academy 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)(set: $Inv to (a:)) 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. (colour: green)[Inventory cleared!] 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. (set: $Gear to 24) [[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)(set: $Gear to 8) Your name upon the small placard set beside the door finally allows your situation to sink in fully, in a way it had not over the past few months. There, in finely engraved letters, your *cage* is so clearly identified. Your new home, one among a good dozen or so in the backrooms of Club Lush. "So the Club is open until dawn, and then we have cleanup," Cherish explains, standing beside you in a blue uniform that matched your own. Tight, laminate, with skirts too short to ever truly hide the bright white panties just beneath. She's been giving you the tour, and explaining the rules. "After the Club is cleaned, if you've been good you might be allowed to cum. Or if you're bad... well, just don't be that, alright?" She smiles beside you, hands clasped before her waist. "It can be hard at times, but Master Kaleb is fair. He only punishes us if we deserve it. Are you ready for your first night on the floor? You've been assigned a smaller area, so you can get used to it." (if: not ($Inv contains "club lush clit piercing"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "club lush clit piercing"))] (colour: red)[Club Lush Clit Piercing added!] (if: not ($Inv contains "club lush nipple piercings"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "club lush nipple piercings"))] (colour: red)[Club Lush Piercings Added!] (if: not ($Inv contains "club lush collar"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "club lush collar"))] (colour: red)[Club Lush Collar added!] [["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]]](if: $CartSeller is 3)[[["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. (if: $Inv contains "club lush boots")[(set: $Inv to $Inv - (a: "club lush boots")) (colour: green)[Club Lush Boots removed!]] [[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. (if: $Inv contains "club lush plugs")[(set: $Inv to $Inv - (a: "club lush plugs")) (colour: green)[Club Lush Plugs removed!]] [[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. (if: $Inv contains "wet slut thigh bands")[(set: $Inv to $Inv - (a: "wet slut thigh bands")) (colour: green)[Wet Slut Thigh Bands removed!]](if: $Inv contains "fuck toy thigh bands")[(set: $Inv to $Inv - (a: "fuck toy thigh bands")) (colour: green)[Fuck Toy Thigh Bands removed!]] [[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 a 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. (colour: green)[Inventory Cleared!] 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. (set: $Gear to 25)(set: $Inv to (a:))(if: not ($Inv contains "counterfeit doll binder"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "counterfeit doll binder"))](if: not ($Inv contains "counterfeit doll gag"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "counterfeit doll gag"))] (colour: red)[Counterfeit Doll Binder Added! Counterfeit Doll Gag Added!] [[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. (if: not ($Inv contains "vibe wand"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "vibe wand"))] (colour: red)[Vibe Wand Added!] "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.(if: $Strike is 0)[ (if: $Inv contains "vibe wand")[(set: $Inv to $Inv - (a: "vibe wand"))] (colour: green)[Vibe Wand removed!] ] "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. (if: $Inv contains "counterfeit doll gag")[(set: $Inv to $Inv - (a: "counterfeit doll gag"))] (colour: green)[Counterfeit Doll Gag removed!] "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." (if: $Inv contains "counterfeit doll binder")[(set: $Inv to $Inv - (a: "counterfeit doll binder"))] (colour: green)[Counterfeit Doll Binder removed!] [["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. If only you had some sort of gas mask... [[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)(set: $Gear to 24)(set: $Inv to (a:)) 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** (set: $Gear to 26)(set: $Inv to (a:)) (colour: Green)[Inventory Cleared!] [[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?"(set: $CorShipLiz to true)](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: $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: $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: $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: $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 water, 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 off 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)(set: $Gear to 24) 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)(set: $Inv to (a:)) (colour: green)[Inventory cleared!] [[You're truly lost in laminate now.->AcademyStart]]

(set: $Status to 3)(set: $Strike to 0)(set: $Indy to 0)(set: $Gear to 12)<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. (set: $Inv to (a:)) (colour: green)[Inventory cleared!] 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: $Pierced is true)[ and pierced nipples(if: not ($Inv contains "nipple piercings"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "nipple piercings"))]] being on clear display. The skirt itself is longer then you have come to expect of Torei, but you know why: your uniform lacks panties entirely. Just as you finish smoothing out a wrinkle the secretary seated at the desk nearby looks up, checking her *glass* display before turning her gaze to you. "The Headmistress is ready for you, student." (if: not ($Inv contains "academy collar"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "academy collar"))] (colour: red)[Academy Collar added!] [["Thank you, ma'am."->AcadIntroGood]] [["Okay."->AcadIntroBad]]

(set: $debt to it - 900)"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. (colour: green)[Inventory Cleared!] 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. (set: $Gear to 25)(set: $Inv to (a:))(if: not ($Inv contains "counterfeit doll binder"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "counterfeit doll binder"))](if: not ($Inv contains "counterfeit doll gag"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "counterfeit doll gag"))] (colour: red)[Counterfeit Doll Binder Added! Counterfeit Doll Gag Added!] [[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 dominate 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.(if: $Strike is 0)[ (if: $Inv contains "vibe wand")[(set: $Inv to $Inv - (a: "vibe wand"))] (colour: green)[Vibe Wand removed!] ] "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. (if: $Inv contains "counterfeit doll gag")[(set: $Inv to $Inv - (a: "counterfeit doll gag"))] (colour: green)[Counterfeit Doll Gag removed!] "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." (if: $Inv contains "counterfeit doll binder")[(set: $Inv to $Inv - (a: "counterfeit doll binder"))] (colour: green)[Counterfeit Doll Binder removed!] [["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 guessing 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)(set: $Inv to (a:)) (colour: green)[Inventory cleared!] [[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)/28 (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.](if: $Ending is 28)[In fear and desperation you avoided your mysterious deal, and passed successfully through to the Way Up. You're free, having undoubtedly missed a significant part of what your Torean experience could have entailed... but you cannot help but wonder why you came to the planet in the first place. What did you give up on, by avoiding your fated meeting?] **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 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"> (set: $Inv to (a:)) 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)(set: $Gear to 11) 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 collared 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. (if: not ($Inv contains "subdermal slave chip"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "subdermal slave chip"))] (colour: red)[Subdermal Slave Chip added!] [[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 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! (if: not ($Inv contains "slave clit piercing"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "slave clit piercing"))](if: not ($Inv contains "slave septum piercing"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "slave septum piercing"))](if: not ($Inv contains "subdermal slave chip"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "subdermal slave chip"))](if: not ($Inv contains "nipple piercings"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "nipple piercings")) (colour: red)[Nipple Piercings Added!]] (colour: red)[Subdermal Slave Chip added!] (colour: red)[Slave Septum Piercing added!] (colour: red)[Slave Clit Piercing added!] [[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]]

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 grand 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 one of the larger stages, just outside of peak time-- a highly valued slot. (if: $CorSlave is true)[ Just ahead of you Corinth is first put through her paces center stage, her uniform that of a maid, her listing indicating she was to be a soubrette. A *Mistress Royallis* eventually puts in the winning bid, and just like that your friend has a new owner. Torean culture could rarely be considered efficient by galactic standards, but here in the great slave markets of Aekora everything progresses quickly. And it's your turn next.] 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 of local nobility. [[Every estate needs a governess...->GovEnd3]]

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, trained chattel among so many marching towards the Prime Markets at the center of the city. Torei's largest auction houses are as grand 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 one of the larger stages, just outside peak time-- a highly valued slot. (if: $CorSlave is true)[ Just ahead of you Corinth is first put through her paces center stage, her uniform that of a maid, her listing indicating she was to be a soubrette. A *Mistress Royallis* eventually puts in the winning bid, and just like that your friend has a new owner. Torean culture could rarely be considered efficient by galactic standards, but here in the great slave markets of Aekora everything progresses quickly. And it's your turn next.] 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 of a Mistress Royallis. [[She's beautiful... and strict.->SoubEnd3]]

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 grand 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 one of the larger stages, just outside of peak time-- a highly valued slot. (if: $CorSlave is true)[ Just ahead of you Corinth is first put through her paces center stage, her uniform that of a maid, her listing indicating she was to be a soubrette. A *Mistress Royallis* eventually puts in the winning bid, and just like that your friend has a new owner. Torean culture could rarely be considered efficient by galactic standards, but here in the great slave markets of Aekora everything progresses quickly. And it's your turn next.] 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 of Grand Aekora's most popular provider of well-trained Consorts. [[The Torean ideal, available for a few credits...->ConsortEnd3]]

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, trained chattel among so many marching towards the Prime Markets at the center of the city. Torei's largest auction houses are as grand 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 one of the smaller stages, and rather far from peak time-- a poorly valued spot. (if: $CorSlave is true)[ Some time earlier Corinth had been put through her paces center stage, her uniform that of a maid, her listing indicating she was to be a soubrette. A *Mistress Royallis* eventually puts in the winning bid, and just like that your friend has a new owner. Torean culture could rarely be considered efficient by galactic standards, but here in the great slave markets of Aekora everything progresses quickly. And it's your turn next.] 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 of the *FPC*, Full Protocol Couriers. (set: $Ending to 18) [[Welcome to the company, #381...->CourEnd3]]

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, trained chattel among so many marching towards the Prime Markets at the center of the city. Torei's largest auction houses are as grand 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 one of the larger stages, but rather far from peak time-- a respectable if not highly valued slot. (if: $CorSlave is true)[ Just ahead of you Corinth is first put through her paces center stage, her uniform that of a maid, her listing indicating she was to be a soubrette. A *Mistress Royallis* eventually puts in the winning bid, and just like that your friend has a new owner. Torean culture could rarely be considered efficient by galactic standards, but here in the great slave markets of Aekora everything progresses quickly. And it's your turn next.] 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 of a Mistress Royallis. [[Come now, kitty...->CatEnd3]]

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, trained chattel among so many marching towards the Prime Markets at the center of the city. Torei's largest auction houses are as grand 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 one of the larger stages, just outside of peak time-- a highly valued slot. (if: $CorSlave is true)[ Just ahead of you Corinth is first put through her paces center stage, her uniform that of a maid, her listing indicating she was to be a soubrette. A *Mistress Royallis* eventually puts in the winning bid, and just like that your friend has a new owner. Torean culture could rarely be considered efficient by galactic standards, but here in the great slave markets of Aekora everything progresses quickly. And it's your turn next.] 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 familiar hands. (set: $Ending to 20) [[Things end as they begun.->HotelEnd3]]

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. (if: $CorSlave is true)[ Just ahead of you Corinth is first put through her paces center stage, her uniform that of a maid, her listing indicating she was to be a soubrette. A *Mistress Royallis* eventually puts in the winning bid, and just like that your friend has a new owner. Torean culture could rarely be considered efficient by galactic standards, but here in the great slave markets of Aekora everything progresses quickly. And it's your turn next.] 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]]

Your training continues, eventually culminating in your promised auction. Leaving the Celeste Academy for the first time in months you're taken 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 grand 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. (set: $Gear to 0) You're displayed fully, forced to pose and expose yourself as prospective buyers request. Just *who* purchased you isn’t exactly clear however, the bright lights upon you making it impossible to see much of the crowd. All you hear is a final call for bids, a dramatic pause, and then the final symbolic snap of the auctionmaster’s whip to signal a fresh sale. Much of the rest of the morning and afternoon is filled with administrative duties, although that is handled by the myriad of secretarial slaves who served the market. In the meantime you’re kept in a common cell with about a dozen other recently sold slaves, milling about, utterly ignored. That indifference only breaks upon the arrival of a Master or Mistress to finally collect their property, as one by one your cellmates are led out. You’re one of the last, but upon hearing your name you snap up to your feet for your first glimpse of your new owner. (set: $Ending to 26)(set: $Strike to 0) [[Your hands land upon the cage’s bars, as the door opens…->CorEnd3]]

Your training continues, for far longer than any of the other disciplines. Where your former classmates still come together, spending common time with each other despite their disperate areas of study, you and the mere handful of other Dolls in training are kept permanently sequestered. Liberty and choice are stripped from you, replaced by constant and all consuming bondage. When you are not training you are kept to a cage or perhaps leashed to a wall, and soon you're wearing your gag more than speaking. Eventually the students you had arrived with leave, graduating to auction, but you persist. (if: $CorSlave is true)[Corinth lasts longer than most, her training as a soubrette nearly as prestigious as your own, but even she eventually leaves-- sold to a Mistress Royallis, you hear the Headmistress say.] Days become weeks, passing into months, and throughout it all you are thoroughly broken. A Doll does not resist, a Doll does not even process the *possibility* of resistance. You submit, unconditionally, and in turn are rewarded with pleasure *or* pain. The choice is your superior's alone, and while you do not take to it right away-- none do, one by one you and your fellow Dolls are thoroughly broken to whip and collar. You're not merely wearing laminate, Torei's trademark material becomes your entire existence. Why had you ever worn anything else? Why had your owner allowed you? You've always had an owner, right? *No?* You come to pity your old self too. When graduation does eventually come it is not followed by an auction that you need attend. Celeste Academy's Dolls are too valuable for that, and the quality of your sort are known throughout Torei. Instead of further training, one day your superiors come and explain you have been purchased. It as as simple as that, and soon you're being boxed up for shipment. (set: $Ending to 21) [[They lock you in tightly, a sensation you've come to love.->DollEnd3]]

Your training continues, eventually culminating in your promised auction. Leaving 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, trained chattel among so many marching towards the Prime Markets at the center of the city. Torei's largest auction houses are as grand 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 one of the larger stages along with several other trained brides-to-be, a highly anticipated event. You're displayed fully, forced to pose and expose yourself as prospective buyers request. Your training is presented, and your experience thoroughly demonstrated. When the auction bell is finally rung you pass from the Academy's ownership... and into hands of one *Master Tenyon*. (set: $Ending to 22) [[Your new life begins...->WifeEnd3]]

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, trained chattel among so many marching towards the Prime Markets at the center of the city. Torei's largest auction houses are as grand 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 one of the larger stages, just outside of peak time-- a highly valued slot. (if: $CorSlave is true)[ Just ahead of you Corinth is first put through her paces center stage, her uniform that of a maid, her listing indicating she was to be a soubrette. A *Mistress Royallis* eventually puts in the winning bid, and just like that your friend has a new owner. Torean culture could rarely be considered efficient by galactic standards, but here in the great slave markets of Aekora everything progresses quickly. And it's your turn next.] 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 of a trade delegation. [[The buyer is pleased, you were fairly priced.->GuardEnd3]]

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. (if: $CorSlave is true)[ Just ahead of you Corinth is first put through her paces center stage, her uniform that of a maid, her listing indicating she was to be a soubrette. A *Mistress Royallis* eventually puts in the winning bid, and just like that your friend has a new owner. Torean culture could rarely be considered efficient by galactic standards, but here in the great slave markets of Aekora everything progresses quickly. And it's your turn next.] (set: $Ending to 24)(set: $Strike to 0)(set: $Count to 0) 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 back into the hands of the Ministry of Truants. [[Not every precinct has the funding for electric vehicles, after all.->Pony3]]

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, by 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/RKQcxsl.jpg" width="35%" height="35%"> (set: $Gear to 13) "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%"> (set: $Gear to 15) 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%"> (set: $Gear to 21) 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%"> (set: $Gear to 17) Months later, you stir slowly after a long night’s sleep. Blinking with bleary eyes, for a moment you forget where you are, *what* you are. It’s the bell at your throat that provides the first reminder, followed shortly after by the sensation of tight restraints, all-encompassing laminate, and the view of your cage’s bars coming into focus. You’re Mistress Royallis’ kitten. A black catsuit serves as the foundation for the uniform you wear daily, often for weeks at a time. Your legs are folded up and back, heavy straps securing them there to ensure you can crawl. More liberty is allowed to your arms, relatively, but the mittens locked onto your hands prevent any use of your fingers. At best you can paw at things, and little more. The corset at your waist doesn’t exactly match the feline aesthetic, but it does fit Torean expectations, and the white trim along its edges and busks does tie into the alabaster off-coloring that marks your paws, while providing a bit of color to your mask. A bright red collar, your tail behind, and of course your customary gag completes the ensemble, the latter a heavy panel design atop a ring gag that left you capable of mewling cries only. (set: $Ending to 19)(set: $Strike to 0) [[Examine your surroundings.->CatExam]] [[Examine yourself further.->CatCheck]] [[Leave your cage.->CatLeave]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/uvmVNU5.jpg" width="35%" height="35%"> (set: $Gear to 14) (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 28 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 makes me happier! And thank you, for sticking it out and trying my game. I hope you enjoyed the ride. [[Do you have a->Pat2]] (colour: orange)[Patreon?] [[I want to restart the game.->EndRestart]] [[I want a cheat code!->EndCheat]] [[What's next for Lost in Laminate?->EndNext]] [[Who deserves special thanks?->SpecialThanks]]

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]]

--------------------- Save or Load Your Game! --------------------- Once you Save or Load your game, use the link below to return to your last spot. Internet Explorer and Edge browsers may fail to save, if you are using the downloadable version of Lost in Laminate. --------------------- {(link: "((Save your game in Slot A))")[ (if: (save-game: "file A"))[Game saved in Slot A!] (else:)[Sorry, I couldn't save your game in Slot A.] ]} {(link: "((Save your game in Slot B))")[ (if: (save-game: "file B"))[Game saved in Slot B!] (else:)[Sorry, I couldn't save your game in Slot B.] ]} {(link: "((Save your game in Slot C))")[ (if: (save-game: "file C"))[Game saved in Slot C!] (else:)[Sorry, I couldn't save your game in Slot C.] ]} --------------------- (link: "Return to the Game!")[(go-to: (history:)'s last)]

"A sort of slave all Toreans know of, but few own themselves. She would look like a maid to you, and performs many of the same functions, but soubrettes are... mischievous by design. They walk the line between proper deference and actions worthy of punishment very carefully, but often among a Mistress' most trusted confidants. [[You're not the first, at least...->SlaveHub]]

Sitting up you shake the last vestiges of sleep from your mind and take in your surroundings. The cage you’re in is small, although the fact it denied you the space to stand is muted by the restraints that prevented you anyway. It does allow you the room to turn and look about however, and you do, the bell affixed to your collar ringing softly as you do so. Your Mistress’ mid-town estate could be described as palatial, her wealth on full display from the sheer size of the room you occupy to its gilded furnishings and sharp, modern design tones. Your cage is in her sitting room, experience informing you that the door across from you led to the rest of the mansion, while the double-set nearest your cage entered into her personal office. From here she conducted her business, meeting with business contacts and guests. You, meanwhile, served merely as her pet. (set: $Strike to it + 1) (if: $Strike is 3)[[[A sound at the double set of doors draws your attention.->CatIntroEnd]]](else:)[[[Examine yourself further.->CatCheck]] [[Leave your cage.->CatLeave]]]

Your suit is immaculate, a fully laminate creation only Torean minds could conjure. Designed for long term wear, you can attest to its efficacy—you’re allowed only the rarest of breaks from the uniform, usually at the monthly checkup your Mistress required of all her slaves. Those short reminders of how you used to live, as a human capable of speech and free movement, could be difficult to endure. After months of training, after months of service, you almost feel more naturally inclined to your uniform. Life was certainly easier, or at the very least simple, locked into your uniform, serving as your Mistress’ pet. It was not comfortable, of course. The bondage that kept you crawling had been difficult to adapt to, although Royallis had taken you to the Ministry of Improvements shortly after purchase, giving you many of the Torean slave adaptions to ease some of the burden. Still, the butt plug that anchored your laminate tail remained a constant source of teasing discomfort, and your cat food was laced with supplements to force your libido up to Torean-born levels. Sensuality in general, and your cunt in particular, thus occupy your thoughts most of the time. Actually stimulating yourself is impossible however, even if your catsuit has a simple zipper between your legs to provide access. With your paws, you could never budge it. (set: $Strike to it + 1) (if: $Strike is 3)[[[A sound at the double set of doors draws your attention.->CatIntroEnd]]](else:)[[[Examine your surroundings.->CatExam]] [[Leave your cage.->CatLeave]]]

Moving up onto your knees and paws, you press against the cage door, only to find it locked. The lock holding it closed is on the far side, and is a simple lever that needed to be lifted and shifted to the side—you’ve seen your Mistress or other household slaves do it a thousand times—but you are utterly incapable of it. With your paws you cannot grab anything, much less manipulate it. You’re a pet after all, not trusted to roam freely. It is quite embarrassing to be reminded how easy it was to lock you up, however. (set: $Strike to it + 1) (if: $Strike is 3)[[[A sound at the double set of doors draws your attention.->CatIntroEnd]]](else:)[[[Examine your surroundings.->CatExam]] [[Examine yourself further.->CatCheck]]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/ZXbItrF.jpg" width="35%" height="35%"> “…bring him immediately here, upon his arrival. Standard protocols and prepare my good signing portfolio. I’m confident we will close the matter this afternoon.” You recognize the voice as much as the tone, moments before she steps into view. Alexandra Royallis, Torean-born and raised, proprietor of Royallis Markets—Aekora’s largest chain of food markets—and your owner. Her outfit today is of the usual sort, professional by Toreans standards, which meant laminate from her stilettos to the flared collars of the blue undershirt that provides a lick of color to the otherwise black ensemble. Behind and to her left (if: $CorSlave is true)[Corinth follows, taking notes upon a glassboard. She too had been purchased by Alexandra, but served as a soubrette, somewhere between maid (which her uniform suggested) and personal secretary.](else:)[her soubrette follows, another slave that served in a role somewhere between maid and personal secretary.] Your Mistress could be a busy woman, she often started her days before you awoke, but she notices now that you’re awake. Gesturing for (if: $CorSlave is true)[Corinth to continue on her duties, your fellow slave meets your gaze just long enough to wink and smile, before she exits.](else:)[the soubrette to continue with her duties, your fellow slave curtsies in acknowledgement, then exits the room.] Alexandra meanwhile approaches your cage, a gloved hand running along the top bars. “Look who’s finally up,” she teases. “How are we doing this morning, Cici?” Your name, of course, had been changed upon purchase to better fit a pet. [[Mewl happily.->CatMew]] [[Press your head against her fingers.->CatHead]] [[Press your cunt against the bars.->CatCunt]]

Your quiet meowing, more akin to a mewl, is met with a further smile from your owner. “I’m sure I would be just as talkative if I could sleep until mid-morning every day too, hm? Let’s get you out of that cage.” She reaches over, undoing the cage’s latch in mere moments—a simple display of manipulation you could no longer achieve. “Come now, sit up pretty for Mistress, like a good kitten.” [[Crawl out, and sit properly.->CatSit]] [[Crawl out, and rub against her leg.->CatRub]]

Stretching up to the top of the cage, your laminate ears press through the bars as you seek her fingers. Alexandra’s smile widens as she scratches your head a bit, her simple touch so very electric. “I’m happy you see you to,” she says, tending to you for a moment longer before finally withdrawing. She reaches over, undoing the cage’s latch in mere moments—a simple display of manipulation you could no longer achieve. “Come now, sit up pretty for Mistress, like a good kitten.” [[Crawl out, and sit properly.->CatSit]] [[Crawl out, and rub against her leg.->CatRub]]

Sitting in your haunches you tuck your paws up to each side of your chest, a manner of begging you had been trained to take when wanting something. Just *what* you wanted is made clear by the way you part your legs, pressing yourself against the bars as you mewl quietly. Alexandra merely laughs however. “Horny already? You just woke up, Cici. I’m not going to be *that* easy on you.” She reaches over, undoing the cage’s latch in mere moments—a simple display of manipulation you could no longer achieve. “Come now, sit up pretty for Mistress, like a good kitten.” [[Crawl out, and sit properly.->CatSit]] [[Crawl out, and rub against her leg.->CatRub]]

Your crawling out from the cage is narrated by the bell on your collar, the constant jingle announcing your every movement. After months of being kept in such a state however you barely notice it, instead focusing on your Mistress above. As ordered, you sit back on your haunches, kneeling before her, legs spread. Reaching up you place your arms to each side of your chest, paws folded down in a display of total submission. Such efforts are rewarded with Alexandra’s hand upon your head, the slick laminate of her glove sliding effortlessly against your hood as she pets you affectionately. “Good girl, Cici.” Her hand drifts down, idly playing with your breast as she continues. “I know it will disappoint you, but my schedule today is very full. I won’t have much time, if any, to play with you. But to make it up to you I have a surprise…” [[“Mmmgh?”->CatSurprise]]

Your crawling out from the cage is narrated by the bell on your collar, the constant jingle announcing your every movement. After months of being kept in such a state however you barely notice it, instead focusing on your Mistress above. She had ordered you to sit but you go further, crawling up beside her to rub your head and side against her lower leg, earning a quiet laugh from Alexandra. “Such a little lover you are, this morning. But I *do* need you to sit, Cici.” As ordered, you sit back on your haunches, kneeling before her, legs spread. Reaching up you place your arms to each side of your chest, paws folded down in a display of total submission. Such efforts are rewarded with Alexandra’s hand upon your head, the slick laminate of her glove sliding effortlessly against your hood as she pets you affectionately. “Good girl, Cici.” Her hand drifts down, idly playing with your breast as she continues. “I know it will disappoint you, but my schedule today is very full. I won’t have much time, if any, to play with you. But to make it up to you I have a surprise…” [[“Mmmgh?”->CatSurprise]]

“Wait here.” Disappearing into her office, your position and the doors preventing you from seeing inside at the moment, she returns momentarily with a small device held before her. Perhaps a few inches across and round in shape, a bright LED flashes green upon the top. “A new toy,” your Mistress explains readily, setting it down before you. When it fails to move she nudges it closer, to which it suddenly speeds away on what must be small wheels beneath. You fight some instinctual desire to chase it immediately, as Alexandra explains. “A toy, and a challenge, Cici. It’s set to flee you. Well, your collar at least. I’ve been assured its quite difficult for a kitten to catch. But if you do catch it before the sun sets this evening, you will earn a special treat: it will trigger your Rainbow array, and let you cum.” Mere mention of being allowed to cum draws a quiet purr from deep within you, the training and alterations you’ve enduring having induced a near constant state of arousal in you. It’s a reaction that draws Alexandra’s hand up to your chin, her thumb running across the slick laminate that covered your mouth. “I knew you would like that.” [[“Mmmm!”->CatSurprise2]] [[“Mmm…”->CatSurprise2]]

Pulling her hand back from your breast, she runs it once more along your head—flicking your ears playfully—before withdrawing completely. “As I said, you have until this evening if you wish to earn the reward. Otherwise the day is yours, Cici. I will be in my Office, but of course your collar will restrict you to this room. I have a meeting this afternoon, your feeding time is at noon… and I do believe that is it.” She looks to you, a kneeling laminate kitten, as helpless as you are glossy. [[Press against her once more.->CatPress2]] [[Moan quietly.->CatMoan]] [[Run off!->CatRun]]

Returning to your kneeling means of movement, you advance towards her, flicking your hips to shift your tail as you rub up against her leg. Alexandra rewards your adoration with another stroke of her hand upon your head, before she steps away, crossing the floor far faster than you could ever managed bound as you are. Passing into her office, she shuts the door behind her. [[How will you spend your day?->CatRun]]

Moaning quietly into your gag, you remain in the kneeling position, looking up at your owner. Alexandra rewards your pitiful sound with another stroke of her hand upon your head before she steps away, crossing the floor far faster than you could ever managed bound as you are. Passing into her office, she shuts the door behind her. [[How will you spend your day?->CatRun]]

As your Mistress undoubtedly settles in for another day of work, you kneel at the precipice of another day spent in total laminate and bondage. The room you find yourself in is rather large, as most are in Alexandra’s estate. Three doors mark exits, but only one of them stands open, that which led into the rest of the mansion. The other two, the door to your Mistress’ office and the door leading to her garden are closed, and you certainly lack the means of opening them. But even within your room there are a variety of things for you to do, the newest of course being the small toy Alexandra had just presented. Your time at the Academy had demonstrated you capable of managing a bit of independence, and thus you now have it, but your time is not unlimited. If past experience was anything to go by, you would have about eight hours to play as you wished. (set: $Strike to 8)(set: $CatCheck to 0)(set: $Speed to false)(set: $Vase to false)(set: $Toy to false)(set: $Clean to true)(set: $VaseTalk to false)(set: $CorBetray to false)(set: $SubBetray to false) [[Let’s get to it.->CatHub]]

(if: $Strike is 6 and $CatCheck is 0)[The sound of footsteps approaching from the main estate draw your attention. One set is heeled, the sharp clicks telling you that, while the other sounds softer and heavier. A male? [[You turn to look.->CatEvent1]]](else-if: $Strike is 4 and $CatCheck is 1)[Sitting up suddenly, you realize it just as you hear more heeled shoes clicking against the hard-lam floor. It's feeding time! [[You are hungry!->CatEvent2]]](else-if: $Strike is 2 and $CatCheck is 2)[The door to Mistress Alexandra's office opens, suddenly. [[You turn to look.->CatEvent3]]](else-if: $Strike is - 1 and $CatCheck is 3)[The day draws to a close... [[What next, you wonder?->CatFinalEnd]]](else:)[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/ernFwOQ.png" width="35%" height="35%"> The clean, immaculately placed furniture of Mistress Alexandra Royallis’ estate surrounds you, all of it appearing so large from your perspective, forced as you are upon your paws and knees. (if: $Strike is 8 or 7 or 6 and $Toy is false)[The day is early still, but already you’re feeling the effects of your uniform. Every movement shifts the tail trailing behind you, tugging subtly on the butt plug to which it is attached. Combined with your Ministry of Improvements enhanced desires, and with months now spent as a catgirl, you’re sure it will be positively torturous by the end of the day—unless you catch that new toy, that is.](if: $Strike is 5 or 4 or 3 and $Toy is false)[The day progresses, and with it comes a subtle panting. You’re wet, you can feel the desire building between your legs, encroaching into all other thoughts. Torean kittens are known to be horny little things, and you’re certainly no exception, even if the tight laminate across your cunt denies you any satisfaction.](if: $Strike is 2 or 1 and $Toy is false)[Evening, and thus the end of the day, is rapidly approaching. Somewhere along the way you entered a feline heat, the desire between your bound legs having been stoked to a roaring fire. Were you not gagged you would have been drooling readily, as you fight to maintain any thought beyond that of primal sensuality. Your nipples are tender, your womanhood aches, and still you haven’t managed to capture your new toy.](if: $Toy is true)[Your suit is still working upon you, but the sweet release that came with capturing your new toy still lingers—for once you’re blissfully sated, purring to yourself even as you burn the remainder of your day.] You have roughly (print: $Strike) hours left in the day. (if: $SubBetray is false)[(if: $Toy is false)[[[Chase after your new toy!->ChaseToy]]] [[Explore the rest of the estate.->CatExplore]] [[Take a short nap.->CatNap]] [[Approach the blank wall.->CatWindow]]](if: $SubBetray is true)[Your leash pulls taut, preventing you from doing much of what you would otherwise do.] [[Try to play with yourself.->CatPlay]] [[Clean yourself.->CatClean]] (if: $Vase is false)[[[Is that something sparkling on the table over there?->CatTrap]]] (if: $Strike is < 5)[[Check out the box left behind!->CatOutside]] ]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/eI7PaaO.jpg" width="35%" height="35%"> The heels at least prove to be coming from a familiar source. (if: $CorSlave is true)[Corinth](else:)[Your Mistress’ soubrette] in her standard maid uniform leads a stranger through the door. “This way Master Tenyon, the Mistress’ office is just through here." Alexandra had mentioned a business meeting, but you hadn’t expected it to be with a male. He’s tall, as many Torean-dwelling men are, wearing laminate professional wear in the form of a well-cut vest and undershirt, the later’s sleeves rolled up. Glancing about at the décor, he stops suddenly upon noticing you upon the floor nearby. A firm slap on (if: $CorSlave is true)[Corinth’s](else:)[the soubrette’s] ass turns her around, as he speaks. “Hold on a minute, I was not aware the Lady Royallis had a pet?” He pats his thigh as his guide readjusts her skirts, blushing a bit. “Come here, kitty.” [[Approach the man.->CatApp]] [[Remain where you are.->CatIg]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/eI7PaaO.jpg" width="35%" height="35%"> As expected, (if: $CorSlave is true)[Corinth](else:)[the soubrette] enters back into your room with a box held between her hands. Allowed only one meal a day, you’re quite ready for your feeding, which drives you to approach immediately. (if: $Toy is false)[“I see you haven’t caught your toy yet,” she notes, looking down at you. “Perhaps this meal will help?”](if: $Toy is true)[“I see you caught your toy! Good girl, Cici! Well, think of this meal as part of your reward, hm?”] Pulling a small bowl from the box, she smiles. “You know the pose.” [[You do. Sit back, knees spread, head up.->CatEvent22]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/ZXbItrF.jpg" width="35%" height="35%"> Your Mistress and the Master that had arrived earlier emerge, clearly deep in conversation. “I will have the documents signed and delivered to you, by protocol courier,” the man is saying, a laminate folder held casually in one hand. “And I must say: I do look forward to the partnership. Your markets, Mistress Royallis, will ensure my product makes it to buyers with enough left over for both of us to profit handsomely.” Alexandra smiles brightly, as across the room (if: $CorSlave is true)[Corinth](else:)[her soubrette] enters, taking a respectful position to the side of the door they both approach. Waving away her slave’s assistance, your Mistress instead gestures the way forward herself. “Allow me to walk you to the door, Master Tenyon” she adds, “and I can assure you I too look forward to the partnership.” You are ignored, meanwhile. This was not the sort of conversation a pet would ever come up in. (set: $CatCheck to 3) [[Get their attention!->CatEvent3A]] [[Watch them go.->CatEvent3B]]

The small circular toy Alexandra had given you sits a short distance away, as if daring you to chase it. It’s a challenge you cannot hope to resist, not least because the reward of being allowed to cum was so rarely given to you. But knowing your Mistress it would be fiendishly difficult to capture. The (if: $Speed is false)[green](else:)[red] LED light flashes every few seconds. How will you start your chase? [[Stalk it, then launch into a chase!->CatStalk1]] [[Stalk it, but only to test its reactions.->CatTest1]] [[Approach it from the side at full speed!->CatPass1]] [[Approach it from behind at full speed!->CatBehind]]

The door leading to the rest of your Mistress’ estate remains open as you move towards it, crawling slowly given your restraints. Through the open portal you can see the entrance foyer, Alexandra’s office and thus your playroom being set off to the side. By the standards of Aekora’s nobility it’s of relatively modest size, but you are downtown, and that severely limited the space available for housing. As soon as your feline-eared head passes the gateway however you feel a sharp shock that emanates from your collar. Surprise as much as pain drives you back, your corset momentarily on full display as you rear up, shuffling backwards in alarm. The shock had ended quickly, but the lingering pain is a good reminder of what your owner had mentioned, and you would do well to remember—your collar served as an invisible leash. As a pet you’re not trusted to wander, and Alexandra did make it clear you were not to leave the room without permission. [[At least it was a quick lesson.->CatHub]]

Crossing the room on your paws and knees, you seek out a comfortable position. Quickly you spot three potential candidates. The first is your cage, the door still standing open. The bottom is padded with a soft rubber, and you do always feel a bit more at calm within it—given how often you’re locked inside. A second option is the sofa at the center of the room, the plush cushions *very* comfortable. Your Mistress allowed you up as well. The third and final option, meanwhile, is a spot on the floor—the hardened laminate that almost looked like wooden paneling rather uncomfortable, but with the bonus of being directly situated beneath the sunlight pouring in from the high window on the wall opposite. [[Make your way towards your cage.->SleepCage]] [[Make your way towards the couch.->SleepCouch]] [[Make your way to the sunny spot on the floor.->SleepFloor]]

While three of the walls feature doorways and extensive decoration, the fourth is comparatively bare. You’ve been with your owner long enough to know why, however, and in truth it’s a rather clever design. If desired the wall could be turned on to reveal its purpose as a large vid-screen, capable of projecting whatever Alexandra or her guests desired. If not engaged however, such as now, approaching it had a different effect—one you witness as the white paneling shimmers and then dissipates, dissolving into transparency. The wall could be a *window*, running from floor to ceiling. Your Mistress’ midtown estate was but a few minutes from the center of Grand Aekora, providing easy access to its myriad amenities while also allowing for the space she desired. As her pet however, your main concern is that the window allowed you a glimpse out at the world beyond—one you had so recently walked yourself. [[What do you see, kitty?->CatWindow2]]

You may have arrived on Torei with a grand goal, a plan to soon return to the stars far richer than you could have ever dreamed. But those days are long past. Now you find yourself seeking simpler things: the attention of your Mistress, the diversions of your toys, and of course the constant frustration focused primarily between your legs. Between the Torean compounds in your food that ensured a strong, Torean-like libido, the liberal use of your rainbow control package, and the constant frustrations of your bondage, Mistress Alexandra was clearly keen on keeping you constantly aroused. Pleasuring yourself of course was strictly forbidden, but your owner rarely punished you unless caught in the act—cats so rarely followed human rules, after all. [[Use your paws, stroke yourself between the legs.->CatStroke]] [[Find something to press up against!->CatPress]] [[Actually, perhaps you shouldn’t.->CatHub]]

As a catgirl, you’re rarely allowed out of your uniform. Daily upkeep of it is entirely up to you as well, with punishments often accompanying a suit anything less than smooth and glossy. Given your bondage you’re helped along by a small cleaning station affixed to your cage, and with the door standing open it is available to you. (if: $Clean is true)[You’re currently gleaming already, however. That said, can you ever be *too* clean?](else:)[Catching your toy may have been worth the effort, but it has left you with the stains of your own desire running down between your thighs. This would be a perfect means of addressing that.] [[Clean yourself.->CatClean2]] [[Nevermind.->CatHub]]

The table in question is a small bistro-style endtable, placed at the side of the couch to allow those utilizing the room to set drinks or other small implements upon. It’s decorated by an ornate red vase, undoubtedly worth a great deal of credits, but it’s the *other* thing you see up there that draws your eye. Your position upon the floor makes it difficult to see exactly what it is, but the gleam is undeniable and you’re certain you haven’t seen something left there before. Are you curious enough to go for it? [[Yes!->CatTrap2]] [[Better Not!->CatHub]]

(if: $CorSlave is true)[Corinth](else:)[Your Mistress’ soubrette] had left behind that box she had entered with, and inexplicably you find yourself drawn towards it. Honestly you cannot explain your motivations, but you find yourself crawling into the shallow bit of hardened laminate, circling several times to find just the *right* position. Curling up, there you sit for some time, feeling perfectly content. It appears that if the catgirl fits, she must sit? (set: $Strike to it - 1) [[Eventually you do find the will to move on.->CatHub]]

Lowering yourself until your breasts press against the ground, you approach slowly, the usual jingle of the bell on your collar significantly reduced. Anticipation builds as you slink closer and closer, your hips shimmying a bit back and forth as you prepare to spring. Watching for movement, it finally comes just as you place a paw-mitten upon the floor. It races off, still quite a distance away! You let it go, repeating the process several times, seeking to understand its movements. Perhaps it’s the laminate, or the bondage, or your new Torean sex drive, but it takes you awhile to understand—yet you do eventually get it. Approach vector, stealth, none of it mattered. The device was tracking you by your collar, after all. You can’t surprise it, but you *can* get a momentary advantage from attacking at its side. It would still flee and the same distance, but the small wheels beneath needed to turn to do so from that angle, giving you a tiny headstart. It’s a lesson you would do well to remember, but eventually the feline instincts cultivated in you overcome such a rational approach—and you cannot help but chase it. [[Run it down!->CatChaseFail]]

Ignoring the precepts of stealth and stalking, you instead approach the toy directly, the bell at your collar jingly merrily. Had it ears it would hear you coming, but even so you cannot shake the tingle of anticipation that runs down your spine in anticipation of the hunt. Any moment now it would launch off, attempt to put distance between you and— *There!* Having approached from the side does give you an advantage, the wheels the toy ran on needing a short second to twist and thus drive it away from you. That allows you a headstart, if a small one. Put it to good use! [[Run it down!->CatChase2]]

Ignoring the precepts of stealth and stalking, you instead approach the toy directly, the bell at your collar jingly merrily. Had it ears it would hear you coming, but even so you cannot shake the tingle of anticipation that runs down your spine in anticipation of the hunt. Any moment now it would launch off, attempt to put distance between you and— *There!* Having approached from behind does not seem to effect it, however, as the wheels beneath can run easily forward or backward. It’s so fast! [[Run it down!->CatChaseFail]]

You keep after the toy, following that teasing light upon it, growling quietly behind your gag as it yet again pulls away just as you think you might be making some progress. Eventually you’re forced to a halt, breathing heavily down on all fours, wishing your gag was removed to allow for deeper breaths. Instead you must simply call off the pursuit, your aching limbs and burning lungs demanding it of you. Sweat slides along beneath your laminate, but it’s the similar sensation between your legs that draws your focus. This effort, the constant shifting of your butt plug, the shifting of your breasts with every hobbled step, was arousing you. Mistress Alexandra had ensured you maintained a proper slave’s sense of sensuality, which meant a near constant state of arousal, but this was quickly growing worse than that—the idea of all this effort and frustration ending without you capturing the toy, and thus your promised allowance to cum, is almost painful to consider. Even if you must rest now, you **need** to catch that toy! (set: $Strike to it - 1) [[Poor kitty.->CatHub]]

The toy zips ahead of you, crossing the room at a comfortable pace—at least for a walking woman. Bound and restrained as you are you’re pushed to your limit crawling afterward, the bell at your collar jingling loudly as you give chase. If you’re to make any progress, you need to establish a strategy now, and stick to it. (if: $Speed is true)[You’ve been here before, and know with its battery slowing you should be able to make up some ground if you go full speed!] (if: $Speed is false)[[[Full speed! Keep running after it, hard!->CatPass]]](if: $Speed is true)[[[Full speed once more, with that low battery it must be slowing!->CatPassRD2]]] [[Set a medium pace, don’t push too hard.->CatMed]] [[Set a slow pace, there has to be a trick to this.->CatSlow]] [[Try to cut it off, corner it!->CatCorner]]

Pushing yourself as fast as you can, hobbled as you are, you chase the toy relentlessly. Across the room, following it through the turn, then weaving around furniture—it’s a sequence you repeat several times over, never actually gaining ground. In fact, it appears the toy is maintaining a set distance at all times from you. Perhaps that should have been expected, if the toy could be captured simply by running directly after it there would be little challenge. Yet sometimes the best method *is* the most simple. You may never be able to catch the toy this way, panting heavily behind your gag, laminate-encased body aching from the effort, but you do achieve something else: the small LED atop it eventually switches from a bright green to a warning of red. You’re running down its battery. Even if you cannot keep this pace indefinitely, a second attempt could have far different results now. (set: $Speed to true) [[Still, keep up the chase!->CatChaseFail]]

In your pursuit of the toy you set a pressing but still relatively comfortable pace, to which the toy appears to respond in mimicry—its initially sharp speed slackens somewhat. Even so you keep after it, crossing the room, following it through a turn, weaving around furniture to the merry sound of your collar’s bell. If you’re making progress you cannot see it, and in fact it seems the toy is maintaining a set distance at all times, regardless of the pace you set, and you’ve seen it can move much quicker if it wanted to. [[Still, keep up the chase!->CatChaseFail]]

In your pursuit of the toy you set a slow almost languid pace, to which the toy appears to respond in mimicry—its initially sharp speed slackens considerably. Even so you keep after it, crossing the room, following it through a turn, weaving around furniture to the merry sound of your collar’s bell. If you’re making progress you cannot see it, and in fact it seems the toy is maintaining a set distance at all times, regardless of the pace you set, and you’ve seen it can move much quicker if it wanted to. [[Still, keep up the chase!->CatChaseFail]]

Abandoning simple pursuit tactics you instead try to outsmart the toy, dodging to its sides, attempting to cut it off as it makes each turn before running up against the far wall. It escapes once however, then twice, three and four times… if you’re making progress you cannot see it, and in fact it seems the toy is maintaining a set distance at all times. Were you capable of a greater speed, or if the toy was slower you could perhaps catch it, but as is your frustration only grows as it continues to elude. [[Still, keep up the chase!->CatChaseFail]]

Pushing yourself as fast as you can, hobbled as you are, you chase the toy relentlessly. Across the room, following it through the turn, then weaving around furniture—it’s a sequence you repeat several times over, never actually gaining ground. In fact, it appears the toy is maintaining a set distance at all times from you. Perhaps that should have been expected, if the toy could be captured simply by running directly after it there would be little challenge. Yet your persistence this second time around proves its worth. The toy is still too fast for you to ever capture directly, but you do manage to make up a bit of ground given its battery situation. Bit by bit, you edge closer, tail flicking excitedly as your hips shimmy in anticipation. Making up that ground again would take time, and you’re too tired for that at the moment. This is your chance, your one chance this time, to capture it! Ahead of you it cuts left suddenly, avoiding the wall directly ahead, and you know by now to expect another left turn in mere moments… [[Pounce on it!->CatPounce]] [[Pounce to its right, scare it the other way!->CatPRight]] [[Pounce to its left, scare it the other way!->CatPass3]] [[Cut right, get outside it!->CatRight]] [[Cut left, get inside its turn!->CatLeft]]

With a sudden burst of energy, you launch yourself forward, the black of your laminate uniform gleaming in the bright light as you pounce directly towards the toy. You’re close enough to make a good effort at it, but it still manages to maintain its distance, speeding just ahead and beyond your paws before rocketing around the second left hand turn. There it waits, the LED blinking as if in amusement, as you come back to your “feet”. Setting off after it again, you nevertheless feel you’ve missed your chance this time. [[Make it pay!->CatChaseFail]]

With a sudden burst of energy, you launch yourself forward and to the right, anticipating that the little toy could still maintain the distance it sought. And it does, banking hard to the left to avoid you, a path that unfortunately simply drives it back towards the center of the room—where it had intended to go moments later anyway. There it waits, the LED blinking as if in amusement, as you come back to your “feet”. Setting off after it again, you nevertheless feel you’ve missed your chance this time. [[Make it pay!->CatChaseFail]]

With a sudden burst of energy, you launch yourself forward and to the left, anticipating that the little toy could still maintain the distance it sought. And it does, banking hard to the right to avoid you—but that in turn drives it directly into the wall, your pounce having both scared it and denying it space to go anywhere else. With a heavy *thunk* it impacts the wall, stunned for a moment before it starts to swivel and turn away. [[Grab it!->CatPass4]]

With a sudden burst of energy, you cut hard to the right, anticipating that the little toy could still maintain the distance it sought. And it does, banking hard to the left to avoid you, a path that unfortunately simply drives it back towards the center of the room—where it had intended to go moments later anyway. There it waits, the LED blinking as if in amusement, as you come back to your “feet”. Setting off after it again, you nevertheless feel you’ve missed your chance this time. [[Make it pay!->CatChaseFail]]

With a sudden burst of energy, you cut hard to the left, anticipating that the little toy could still maintain the distance it sought. And it does, banking hard to the right to avoid you, a path that nearly sees it collide with the wall there. Having cut instead of pounced however, you’re not close enough to scare it that far, and it recovers just barely—pulling another hard turn to end up back in the center of the room. There it waits, the LED blinking as if in amusement, as you come back to your “feet”. Setting off after it again, you nevertheless feel you’ve missed your chance this time. [[Make it pay!->CatChaseFail]]

The mitts on your hands deny you any ability to use your fingers, but even paws are capable of simply landing upon the toy, holding it in place as you return to your knees, leveraging more weight upon it. Your owner had not indicated exactly how the toy would notice it had been captured, but it apparently does, ceasing its attempts to escape after several moments. The small indicator LED changes as well, from the red you had induced to a pulsing blue. What comes next you only *feel*, a sensation across your body that can only be described as raw and unbridled *ecstasy*, emanating from several points at once. Your breasts, your womanhood, your rear—points of sensuality, induced by the rainbow implants your owner required of all her slaves. Capable of stimulating your pleasure centers directly, the Ministry of Improvement’s most popular alteration for slaves is put to immediate and extensive use. [[“Mmmmgh!!!”->CatPass5]]

Alexandra *rarely* let you cum, a strict rule that only makes you more susceptible to your rainbow array engaging now, setting off a pleasure high you ride as best you can. Abandoning the toy you collapse onto your side, limbs losing strength as the rapturous waves pulse through your body. Eventually you roll onto your back, bound legs spread as your back arches, every nerve bundle acting of its own accord—furthering your pleasure. Crying out in the throes of rapture, your gag and uniform reduce that to little more than a lengthened meow as your restrained limbs wriggle helplessly. You’re not even fully aware of your own climax until its receding for some time, the pulses of pleasure running down your body slowing as you regain the ability to feel your sex-slickened cunt. You’re wet, *very* wet, a bit of your own self-lubricant even escaping the zipper there to run down between your thighs. Like any Torean kitten you pride yourself in staying clean and glossy, but as ecstasy shifts to afterglow you’re simply too exhausted to care. What did that matter when put against the simple fact that you’ve been allowed to cum? [[“Mmmm….”->CatPass6]] [[“Mmmgh…”->CatPass6]]

You remain there for some time, lounging on your back in full laminate, basking in the sweet relief allowed to you. Eventually you do rouse however, shifting slowly onto your side, then back onto paws and knees. Your limbs tremble for a moment, the experience having been so intense, but you steady with a bit of effort. The trails left from your orgasm run down between your thighs, perhaps if you have the time you should clean them. Either way, your Mistress is sure to be proud of you. (set: $Strike to it - 1)(set: $Toy to true)(set: $Clean to false) [[Good kitten!->CatHub]]

(set: $Cheat to (prompt: "Enter the Cheat Code:", "")) (if: $Cheat is "Gloss")[Correct Cheat Code entered! [[Enter Cheat Console->Cheat 2]]](else:)[Improper code. Play through the game to unlock a cheat code at the end, or come join us on Discord to get it! [[Go back.->Startup]]]

**Skip to Endings**: *Please note that these fast-forwards are provided for convenience, but I truly recommend playing through the game again instead of just exploring these. Many different choices go into what ending you receive, and the experience is better arriving there as the game intends.* (set: $showstatus to true)(set: $showcredits to true)(set: $showgear to true)(set: $Inv to (a:)) Go to Catgirl Ending: [[Click me!->CatCheat]] Go to the Ponygirl Ending: (link:"Click Me!")[(go-to:"PonyEnd")] Go to the "Slave of Corinth" Ending: (link:"Click Me!")[(go-to:"CorDomEnd")] Go to the Daemon Ending: (link:"Click Me!")[(go-to:"SecDaemonEnd")] Go to the Slave-Wife Ending: (link:"Click Me!")[(go-to:"WifeEnd")] Go to the Courier Ending: [[Clickme!->CourierCheat]] Go to the start of the Slave to Isabella path: [[Click me!->Cheat Isa]] Go to the start of the Nun path: [[Click me!->CheatNun]] Start the game normally with 10,000 extra gold, delivered after the Hotel scene: [[Click me.->GoldCheat]] Show me the list of endings: [[Click me!->EndingList]]

Congratulations on completing the game! You can now use the code **Gloss** to unlock the development console at the start of the game. This allows a couple cheats and workarounds to be enabled, but these will not apply to existent saves. Remember the code! [[Go back.->Ending2]]

Padding across the room, you return to your cage, the metal bars somehow inviting despite the loss of liberty they demanded of you. You pass through the door easily enough, but as always settling in proves to be far more difficult. Pressing your paws into the soft padding of the cage’s bottom you search for the most comfortable position, even circling several times before you eventually settle on one that you like. There you shift to your side, curling up with your paws against your breasts, tail encircling your legs. Sleep comes a bit slowly, but soon you drift into that sweet abyss. For about an hour you remain there, coming to later with a sudden start—your cat-eared head shifting about to seek out the source of the sound. To your embarrassment you eventually realize it’s just the bell on your collar, but that adrenaline surge does complete your waking. Emerging from the cage you lean forward, pressing your head down as you arch your back, stretching before sitting back up. (set: $Strike to it - 1) [[Very good. What’s next?->CatHub]]

Padding across the room, you work your way up onto the couch, your bound legs making it a bit of an effort. Yet you do manage. Pressing your paws into the soft cushions of the couch you search for the most comfortable position, even circling several times before you eventually settle on one that you like. There you shift to your side, curling up with your paws against your breasts, tail encircling your legs. Sleep comes a bit slowly, but soon you drift into that sweet abyss. For about an hour you remain there, coming to later with a sudden start—your cat-eared head shifting about to seek out the source of the sound. To your embarrassment you eventually realize it’s just the bell on your collar, but that adrenaline surge does complete your waking. Jumping down from the couch you lean forward, pressing your head down as you arch your back, stretching before sitting back up. (set: $Strike to it - 1) [[Very good. What’s next?->CatHub]]

Padding across the room, you enter into the rectangle of sunlight the window above allowed in. There you shift to your side, curling up with your paws against your breasts, tail encircling your legs. Sleep comes a bit slowly, but soon you drift into that sweet abyss. For about an hour you remain there, coming to later with a sudden start—your cat-eared head shifting about to seek out the source of the sound. To your embarrassment you eventually realize it’s just the bell on your collar, but that adrenaline surge does complete your waking. Jumping down from the couch you lean forward, pressing your head down as you arch your back, stretching before sitting back up. You’re warm, very warm in fact—laminate could never be described as comfortable, it was too demanding for that, but now with it having soaked up the heat of the day for so long it feels… wonderfully toasty. (set: $Strike to it - 1) [[Very good. What’s next?->CatHub]]

As with many of Grand Aekora’s streets its relatively busy with foot traffic, women in all sorts of laminate outfits making up the majority that pass by. Some are freewombs of course, but this neighborhood in particular featured many slaves, a result of the various manses and estates that populated the area, and the need for so many servants. Their collars remind you of your own, although even they are allowed such simple liberties like walking. Most are personal assistants, household servants, or couriers-- you’re a pet, below even them in the complex hierarchy of the collared that Torei supported. [[Look up towards the sky.->CatWindowSky]] [[Press up against the window.->CatWindowPress]] [[What if you could escape?->CatWindowEscape]]

(set: $GoldCheat to true) Loading... (colour: yellow)[Almalee Mode Engaged!:] 10,000 Credits Added! (To be delivered after leaving the hotel.) (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)(set: $SaveName to "None") [[Start at beginning.->Elevator]]

With any project as large as this one, others have inevitably helped along the way. So—for everyone who helped bug test, reported issues, or fixed my (at times horrible) spelling, thank you! You’ve been incredibly helpful! More specifically: Big thanks to Gospodin for originating the setting! Big thanks to Skybound for extensively testing early builds! Big thanks to Schiggy for helping with the CSS! Extra big thanks to all the great latex fans and models who produced the images used as inspiration for Lost in Laminate! And a big thanks to you, the player! Thanks for checking out my game! [[Go back.->Ending2]]

The buildings in this neighborhood are tall, but are hardly skyscrapers, and the width of the street allows you a good view of the sky above. Bright blue greets you, the sky above so very clear and empty. Torei could go weeks without cloud cover, water being so valuable the AIs regulated even vapor carefully. Nor did terrestrial vehicles flit about, as on other worlds. Ground transport remained the primary means of travel. But there is something else up there too, not so much floating as fixed in the sky above. The Way Up, quite distant but still visible given its size, stretching like a thin black thread towards infinity. You have long since stopped bothering with marking the passage of days, pets hardly needed to consider such things, but you suspect its been perhaps a year since your last fateful ride down that space elevator. You had been a free woman, then, the world itself awaiting you. Now you’re collared and bound, unable to walk, unable to talk, the property of another. The small tag hanging from your collar named you Cici, while your tail and paws mark you as a catgirl, a pet. It’s been quite the transformative experience. [[Press up against the window.->CatWindowPress]] [[What if you could escape?->CatWindowEscape]] [[You've had enough, retreat from the window.->CatWindowEnd]]

The window is semi-polarized to those outside, but you would be quite visible now that your presence has turned down the automatic setting on your side. Even so, as you rise up on your haunches, pressing your chest against the window as you gaze curiously at the strangers passing by, most ignore you. You’re just one slave among the multitudes now after all, even if your situation is a bit more restrictive than most. You do eventually attract a passing woman’s attention however, a freewomb gauging by her lack of collar. She squats down before the window, pressing her hand against it, as if capable of reaching through the glass to pat you gently on the head. [[Beg for help.->CatWinHelp]] [[Purr happily.->CatWinPurr]] [[Press your cunt against the window.->CatWinPress]]

A few rooms over a door could be found, you know that, one that would take you out onto the street you gaze upon now. But it may have well be in orbit, for all the good that would do you. Your collar is locked around your throat, incapable of being removed even if you had hands instead of the paws of a kitten. It prevents you from wandering, just as it marks you so clearly as a slave. Even without it, there are your other pieces of bondage, your feline uniform so very distinctive. And then the tracking chip embedded beneath your skin, as most slaves were subjected to, alongside the rainbow implants that could engaged at great distance. Torei depended on its slaves, valued them—and worked very hard to keep the collared multitudes in line. There is no escape. It’s a realization that makes you a little wet. [[Look up towards the sky.->CatWindowSky]] [[Press up against the window.->CatWindowPress]] [[You've had enough, retreat from the window.->CatWindowEnd]]

Few things hold your attention long, and the sights outside the window are no exception. Eventually you retreat from it, crawling away back towards the center of the room as the polarization reengages—returning the window to its previous occupation of a mostly blank wall. It may have taken a bit of your time, but indulging your curiosity never hurt, right? (set: $Strike to it - 1) [[What’s next?->CatHub]]

“Mmmmmgh…!” Your gagged mewls are unintelligible, even without the glass rendering you silent for the passerby. Nor does your frustrated struggling seem to impart he message, in fact it manages just the opposite, the woman bringing a hand to her lips as she laughs gently at your display. Mimicking a head pat once more she rises, returning to her path down the street. You’re left in her wake, the laminate kitten in the window to her perspective. [[Look up towards the sky.->CatWindowSky]] [[What if you could escape?->CatWindowEscape]] [[You've had enough, retreat from the window.->CatWindowEnd]]

Perfecting your purr had been a focus of the Academy’s catgirl training, and you put it to use, closing your eyes as you demonstrate the simple pleasure of being treated like the pet you are. When you eventually open your eyes again you find the stranger amused, her lips pulled into a smile as she mimics petting you once more between the ears. Then she rises, returning to her path along the pavement, leaving you in her wake. Flicking your hips back and forth, and thus your tail, you catch yourself wishing she could somehow play with you. [[Look up towards the sky.->CatWindowSky]] [[What if you could escape?->CatWindowEscape]] [[You've had enough, retreat from the window.->CatWindowEnd]]

Wet and horny, as you always seem to be, you use your position pressed up against the window to rock your hips forward, the black laminate between your legs being presented promptly to the stranger outside. Your desperation merely amuses her however, a hand covering her lips as she laughs softly before mimicking one more head pat before rising. Returning to her path along the sidewalk she leave you in her wake, utterly frustrated. Your hips flick almost of their own accord, your tail expressing your sexual distress despite a lack of audience. [[Look up towards the sky.->CatWindowSky]] [[What if you could escape?->CatWindowEscape]] [[You've had enough, retreat from the window.->CatWindowEnd]]

Once upon a time you may have balked at the mere *idea* of attempting to pleasure yourself so publicly, but you certainly lack the dignity now. Rolling onto your back you spread your legs, the bindings holding shin to thigh straining, but for once not impeding what you want to do. Framing your chest, one arm to each side, you slide your paws down your own flanks, the laminate of both suit and restraining gloves all but effortless. At the meeting of your legs you find the zipper of your catsuit, such a simple means of restricting access that you utterly lack the ability to address. Instead, at best, you can simply rub your paws against your cunt. [[“Mmmh…”->CatStroke2]]

Casting about the room for something capable of sating you, eventually you settle upon the leg of an elegant chair set into the corner of the room. It most certainly wasn’t intended for such use, of course, but cats rarely cared for such things. Padding over to it, you lean back on your knees, resting your paws upon arm and seat as you position your hips just *so.* Rounded and somewhat padded, it proves to be a good device to work your cunt against, humping desperately for stimulation. The friction is there, somewhat, although the smooth material of your laminate catsuit renders most of your effort moot—and quickly you grow tired. Your corset makes the effort uncomfortable, while the shifting of your hips grinds your buttplug in with every thrust. Pleasurable, yes, but also frustratingly far from enough. Eventually you’re forced to retreat, settled back down upon paws and knees, perhaps even *more* wet than when you had begun. Your uniform made such efforts difficult indeed! [[Give up, its hopeless.->CatPlayEnd]] [[Play with yourself directly!->CatStroke]]

It’s hardly stimulating. Your paws and suit are so slick as to be almost frictionless, reducing the effect you manage to induce in your pussy. Like any proper Torean kitten you’re perpetually horny, but your paws simply do not allow you achieve much—indeed it almost proves more frustrating than anything else. And that’s *before* the shock. Your collar, linked to sensors in your paw mitts and those of the rainbow stimulators in your womanhood, recognizes exactly what you’re trying to do. The zap it delivers isn’t particularly painful, but it does shatter even the barest pleasure you were achieving for yourself, as a quite whine escapes your gagged mouth. You want to argue, it wasn’t *fair* after all, but you must simply come to terms with the fact that you’re not allowed to touch yourself. Mistress Royallis forbid it. [[Then I’ll find something to hump!->CatPress]] [[It’s pointless. Give up.->CatPlayEnd]]

Somewhere deep down, you knew this was never going to work. Your uniform ensured that as much as centuries of Torean culture and practice did, so much effort having been put into teasing and torturing slaves without allowing them the release they sought. You need to remember that lesson: your only potential source of climax would be Mistress Alexandra. (if: $Toy is false)[The toy she had given you seems to catch your eye at just that moment, seemingly reminding you of that fact.](else:)[Your catching of the toy she had given you had made that clear, after all. Even now, you can still recall just how *good* that had felt.] (set: $Strike to it - 1) [[What’s next?->CatHub]]

Do you want Corinth to have been enslaved too? [[Yes->CatCheatYes]] [[No->CatCheatNo]]

Okay! (set: $CorSlave to true) Go to Catgirl Ending: (link:"Click Me!")[(go-to:"CatgirlEnd")]

Okay! (set: $CorSlave to false) Go to Catgirl Ending: (link:"Click Me!")[(go-to:"CatgirlEnd")]

Crawling back to your cage, you return to the barred enclosure, sitting down within. A large plastic square is affixed to the side, a smooth semi-rounded surface exposed and directed into the cage itself—Torean-grade laminate shine. By pressing your paws against it, you can then spread it across your body, a simply but effective means of keeping the material clean. [[Clean your head.->CleanHead]] [[Clean your chest.->CleanChest]] [[Clean your legs.->CleanLegs]] [[That’s enough for now!->CleanEnd]]

Pressing a paw to the shiner, you begin ministering to your head. The laminate that constituted your hood is as tight as any other portion of your uniform, but it was that which covered your head that dehumanized you so effectively. With only hints of flesh around your eyes its easy to forget there is a human beneath the laminate kitten that is your uniform. Working top down you begin with your ears, their flexible material allowing them to be pressed down as you ensure they’re properly shined. Your actual ears remain hidden as you progress down the sides of your head, over the bridge of your nose, then down to mouth and chin. The heavy O-ring that kept your teeth apart is obscured by the gag panel across it, leaving you without lips to speak. Finally there is your collar of course, the red laminate and dainty little bow attached to decoration proving far more silent then the bell, which jingles merrily as your paw brushes up against it. [[Done!->CatClean2]]

Acquiring a fresh bit of shiner from the pad on your cage, you begin working on your torso. Of course you cannot help but begin with your breasts, the barest hints of stimulation your paws against your chest induces frustratingly tantalizing. Your diet ensured your curves remained well rounded out, but upon purchase Alexandra had also sent you through a round at the Ministry of Improvements, pushing your measurements to a truly Torean standard. You’re undeniably busty now, the gloss you apply only underline that fact— as does your corset. Progressing next to the steel-boned garment hugging your waist so tightly, you realize in that moment you hardly notice what had once been a constant impediment to your movement and breathing. The corset is strictly tied, the lacing along your back and the busks at the front ensuring you kept measurements as appealing as they are deeply feminine. And now, thanks to your efforts, the material positively gleams. [[Next?->CatClean2]]

As always, your legs prove the hardest portion to clean. The restraints that kept you restrained, tucking your lower leg up against your thighs, also produces crevices into which dirt could hide, not to mention the inevitable effect of laminate rubbing against laminate. Your paws are bulky too, but you persist, working slowly from your hips down. (if: $Clean is false)[Of course you focus primarily on your inner thighs however, removing the streaks of your own desire with each pass of your paw. The simply glossy shine of your uniform is soon returned, although somewhere along the way you find yourself lingering at the meeting of your thighs, your shine-laced paw pressing against your womanhood beneath. A gentle shock from your collar serves to startle you out of the reverie, however. (set: $Clean to true)](else:)[The carefully maintained gap between your thighs, a prized detail on Torean slaves, ensured your thighs generally did not get too dirty but you focus there nevertheless. In fact you find yourself lingering at the meeting of your thighs, your shine-laced paw pressing against your womanhood beneath. A gentle shock from your collar serves to startle you out of the reverie, however.] You end on your feet, tucked up as they are just beneath your buttocks. You’re one of the rare slaves on Torei not forced into constant high heel use, but that’s only because you are restricted to your knees anyway. Instead your feet are enveloped in simple laminate booties, the bottoms of which are detailed with a pawprint design. [[Clean! What’s next?->CatClean2]]

Running your paw against your own flanks to remove the last of the excess shiner, you eventually emerge from your cage a great deal cleaner. (if: $Clean is false)[The streaks of desire that still run down your legs, from behind allow to cum, have unfortunately been missed however.] Flicking your tail back and forth, your laminate shines all the more readily as the light from above runs across your feline form. From knees to hips, rear to chest, paws to head you’re every movement is rendered in glorious laminate gloss. (if: $Clean is true)[It does feel good to be clean!] (set: $Strike to it - 1) [[As it should be!->CatHub]]

Pulling yourself up onto the couch is a struggle given your bondage, but you manage. Eventually you place your hands upon the arm of the couch, allowing you to look over and down upon the gleaming object you had sighted from below. It appears to be a control device of some kind, the reflection coming from its metallic luster, while rows of buttons indicate some sort of functionality. You dare not even *consider* it, but could this be a control mechanism for your rainbow system? The buttons are not labeled, but the largest certainly calls to you, its bright green coloration the same color your indicator LEDs used just before dumping pleasure into your cunt and nipples! You will need to knock the control from the table though, down onto the ground, to explore it further. [[Knock it down.->CatTrap3]] [[On second thought, leave it for now.->CatHub]]

With feline indifference, you reach a laminate paw out, finding the edge of the controller. Knocking it down requires only a twitch of your wrist, and with a quiet clatter it falls from its perch. Success! Unfortunately its follow moments later by the table’s other guest, the red vase you had seen from below. Your swipe had shifted the table just enough to unbalance it, sending it to the ground with a sudden and ominous clatter. Looking down, you see it has broken in two. (set: $Vase to true)(set: $Strike to it - 1) [[Oh no! I can fix this!->CatFix]] [[Doesn’t matter, check out your prize!->CatControl]] [[Run away!->CatEnd]]

Moving to the vase, broken in two, you recognize quickly there is little you can do. Even without your paw mitts preventing you from picking anything up, you lack the means of repairing the vase, much less returning it to its place upon the endtable. Batting one of the pieces in thought, you conclude you will need to leave it there. And you know your Mistress will not be pleased. [[Check the fallen controller.->CatControl]] [[There is nothing else you can do. Leave the scene for now.->CatHub]]

Moving to the fallen controller, its upside down but you manage to flip it over at the very least. There the lines of buttons call to you, your paw unsuited for simple actions like pressing them, but you improvise: you can use your nose instead! The only question is which to press. [[The x-shape near the bottom.->CatX]] [[The large rectangle along the side.->CatRec]] [[The big green button!->CatGreen]]

Had you fur and not laminate it would have been sticking up all along your back, as you scramble away from the scene of the “crime” in a panic. It is only when you’re across the room that you finally recognize that there is little you can do to avoid the consequences of your playing—there is nowhere to hide that vase, and you cannot leave the room anyway. Certainly Mistress Royallis will not be pleased. For now however there is little else you can do. [[So, what’s next then?->CatHub]]

Pressing the X-shaped button does… nothing. Hm. [[The large rectangle along the side.->CatRec]] [[The big green button!->CatGreen]]

Pressing the large rectangular button doesn't achieve anything at all, to your disappointment. Try another! [[The x-shape near the bottom.->CatX]] [[The big green button!->CatGreen]]

Pressing the large green button… causes a sudden flash of light! Unfortunately for you, its not emanating from your rainbow system, but instead comes from the wall opposite—the large, otherwise empty one. It’s a vidscreen, and apparently you’ve just found its remote control. Scrambling to turn it back off, lest the sound draw attention, you’re left afterward in the silence of your own disappointment. You haven’t found your rainbow implant’s controls, it seems, and along the way you’ve broken that vase, which you will undoubtedly be punished for. [[Check the vase.->CatFix]] [[There is nothing else you can do. Leave the scene.->CatHub]]

Bidden by a superior, indeed a *man*, you approach with a bit of caution. Upon drawing close your reservations are largely cast aside as he moves to one knee, then pets you, running his hand from your ears down your back. Repeating the process once, then twice, after the third he slaps your asscheeck with a bit of force. “Friendly, at least. On your back, slave. I would see your tits and cunt.” [[Roll over, onto your back.->CatRoll]] [[Sit down. No!->CatSitNo]]

Bidden by a superior, indeed a *man*, you hesitate. He however holds no such concerns, and quickly draws close despite your reservations. They’re largely cast aside as he moves to one knee anyway, then pets you, running his hand from your ears down your back. Repeating the process once, then twice, after the third he slaps your asscheeck with a bit of force. “Shy, at least. On your back, slave. I would see your tits and cunt.” [[Roll over, onto your back.->CatRoll]] [[Sit down. No!->CatSitNo]]

Feeling obliged or otherwise, you move as he requires, onto your back. Already mostly helpless, the position leaves you largely defenseless against the man’s touch—and he indulges immediately, teasing one of your breasts as his other hand seizes the small metal tag hanging from your collar. “Cici is her name?” he reads, shifting to pet you some more as his other hand fondles. “Let’s see… young, looks to be in good health. And well proportioned. Tight waist, full bust, wide hips. Very nice. Are you enjoying yourself, Cici?” [[“Mmmeow!->CatHap]] [[“Mhmm…->CatNeh]]

“She’s ah, willful,” (if: $CorSlave is true)[Corinth](else:)[the soubrette] interjects, sounding a bit embarrassed. “You know how kittens can be.” “I do,” the man laughs, as he reaches towards you. Even were not bound as you are, his grip proves to be quite strong indeed. Man-handling you would have been easy, but he’s actually quite gentle—if insistent—as he guides you onto your back. [[Mmmgh…”->CatRoll]]

“I bet you are,” he laughs. “Good, good. This bodes well for today, I think. One can tell much about a woman from how she keeps her slaves, and I must admit—I am something of a cat person myself. I keep one just like this at my place.” He seems to be speaking to the maid standing above him, but turns his attention back to you more fully as the hand on his breast moves down, to your waist—yet teasing even further. “Spread those legs wide and purr like a little slut if you want me to touch you down there.” [[You want nothing else! Obey!->CatSpread]] [[Close your legs. No!->CatNeh2]]

“I've found catgirls to be rarely happy,” he laughs. “Still: good. This bodes well for today, I think. One can tell much about a woman from how she keeps her slaves, and I must admit—I am something of a cat person myself. I keep one just like this at my place.” He seems to be speaking to the maid standing above him, but turns his attention back to you more fully as the hand on his breast moves down, to your waist—yet teasing even further. “Spread those legs wide and purr like a little slut if you want me to touch you down there.” [[You want nothing else! Obey!->CatSpread]] [[Close your legs. No!->CatNeh2]]

Wet and without shame, you obey immediately. Already your legs had been spread, but now you widen them even further, lifting your rear off the ground as you arch your back—all to offer your defenseless self to him. Meanwhile you purr wantonly, begging for his touch between your legs. And he gives it to you, two fingers outstretched to glide slowly across your sealed cunt. The mere touch leaves you panting, your loins aching for more, and yet cruelly he chooses then to stand with a rueful smile. “So very horny, aren’t you Cici? Well I would hate to get off on the wrong foot with your Mistress by bringing you to climax without her permission hm? Speaking of which, I *am* here to meet with her, not play with you.” He turns to (if: $CorSlave is true)[Corinth](else:)[the soubrette attending him]. “You may continue to lead me, slave. But do tell: when did your Mistress acquire Cici?” [[Try to follow him!->CatFollow]] [[Let him go.->Event1End]]

With narrowed eyes you resist, closing your legs to him. Instead of disapproval however you only manage to elicit an amused smile from the man, who rises, running a hand through his hair as he regards you below. “Naughty. But aren’t most catgirls? Perhaps I’ll need to speak to your Mistress about that naughtiness, hm? Speaking of which, I *am* here to meet with her, not play with you.” He turns to (if: $CorSlave is true)[Corinth](else:)[the soubrette attending him]. “You may continue to lead me, slave. But do tell: when did your Mistress acquire Cici?” [[Try to follow him!->CatFollow]] [[Let him go.->Event1End]]

Rolling back onto your paws and knees, you attempt to follow, but their unrestrained steps are simply far too quick for you to keep up. Eventually you settle down on haunches, paws held before you as you watch them approach your Mistress’ office. (if: $CorSlave is true)[Corinth](else:)[The slave] meanwhile answers the question about your heritage. “She was purchased from the Prime Markets some months ago, Master. Academy-trained, but an offworlder in origin.” “Offworlder, truly?” The man muses. “A proper transformation she’s undergone, then. She’s certainly not recognizable as anything but a slave now…” (set: $CatCheck to 1) The words drift oft as they entered the office proper, closing the door behind them. (if: $Vase is false)[(if: $CorSlave is true)[Corinth](else:)[The soubrette] emerges a few minutes later, obviously dismissed. Crossing the room, she exits via the far doors(if: $CorSlave is true)[but not before winking your way, blowing a kiss]. [[You return to your day.->CatHub]]](else:)[(if: $CorSlave is true)[Corinth](else:)[The soubrette] emerges a few minutes later, obviously dismissed. Crossing the room to return to her work, she however pauses upon noticing the fallen vase. Hands finding her hips, she frowns. [[Uh-oh.->VaseEvent]]]

Rolling over, you settle down on haunches, paws held before you as you watch them approach your Mistress’ office. (if: $CorSlave is true)[Corinth](else:)[The slave] meanwhile answers the question about your heritage. “She was purchased from the Prime Markets some months ago, Master. Academy-trained, but an offworlder in origin.” “Offworlder, truly?” The man muses. “A proper transformation she’s undergone, then. She’s certainly not recognizable as anything but a slave now…” (set: $CatCheck to 1) The words drift oft as they entered the office proper, closing the door behind them. (if: $Vase is false)[(if: $CorSlave is true)[Corinth](else:)[The soubrette] emerges a few minutes later, obviously dismissed. Crossing the room, she exits via the far doors(if: $CorSlave is true)[but not before winking your way, blowing a kiss]. [[You return to your day.->CatHub]]](else:)[(if: $CorSlave is true)[Corinth](else:)[The soubrette] emerges a few minutes later, obviously dismissed. Crossing the room to return to her work, she however pauses upon noticing the fallen vase. Hands finding her hips, she frowns. [[Uh-oh.->VaseEvent]]]

Stepping towards the fallen vase, (if: $CorSlave is true)[Corinth](else:)[the soubrette] sighs, crossing her arms before looking to you. “What did you do, Cici? I doubt the Mistress cares about one particular vase, I have to clean several dozen each day, but she *will* punish you for this.” [[“Mmmgh!” Help me!->VaseHelp]] [[“Mmmmgh…” I know.->VaseKnow]]

(if: $CorSlave is true)[Corinth shakes her head. “That’s not how this works, Cici. I know we’re friends, but we’re also slaves now. If I don’t tell the Mistress, she will only punish me as well—and while I kind of *like* that at times, I don’t plan to spend tonight strapped to a correction frame, or whatever she would do… so I *will* be telling her, as soon as I clean this up.”](else:)[The soubrette shakes her head. “I know you’re still learning Cici, but you are a slave. You deserve to be punished if you make a mistake, and I will see that you are. The Mistress will hear of this as soon as I clean everything up."] Reaching towards you, she presses a finger to your collar, inducing a sharp shock—even Alexandra’s other slaves had the power and right to punish you if necessary. Afterward she does as intended, collecting the pieces together with a broom before removing them. (set: $VaseTalk to true) [[Your day, meanwhile, continues.->CatHub]]

“Bad kitty,” the soubrette concludes. “I suppose I will fetch a broom, and then report this to the Mistress at the earliest opportunity.” Reaching towards you, she presses a finger to your collar, inducing a sharp shock—even Alexandra’s other slaves had the power and right to punish you if necessary. Afterward she does as intended, collecting the pieces together with a broom before removing them. (set: $VaseTalk to true) [[Your day, meanwhile, continues.->CatHub]]

Taking the feed pose, you hold it as (if: $CorSlave is true)[Corinth](else:)[the soubrette] sets your meal down before you. Like all of your Mistress’ slaves, you’re allowed only slave feed, a viscous and aggressively bland mixture. Yours is altered with hormonal boosters that kept your sexual drive operating at Torean levels, or what anyone from the universe beyond would call embarrassingly high. It was hardly appetizing, but you had learned during training to appreciate every meal given. Masters and Mistresses the world over were certainly not afraid to deny an unruly slave food. “Let’s get that gag off,” (if: $CorSlave is true)[Corinth](else:)[the soubrette] continues, removing your panel gag by simply undoing the mag-snaps holding it to your head. That reveals your lips, held into a permanent “O” by the ring-gag beneath. And that one certainly isn’t being removed. Cats lapped up their meals, after all. “Dig in.” [[Sniff it first.->CatSiff]] [[You do.->CatEvent23]]

It had taken you some time to learn the proper technique with which to eat while ring-gagged, but by now you’re quite comfortable with it. Lowering your head to the bowl, labeled *Cici* of course, you primarily use your tongue to lap the semi-solid gruel up. Most slaves subsisted solely on such feed, the carefully composed recipe providing a day’s worth of nutrients, as well as your necessary liquid intake, in a form your owner at least could deem “convenient.” Going down heavy, you can already feel that warm burn of the hormonal supplements beginning their work. Unable to prevent your hips from shimmying just a bit, your cunt hungry for attention, you’re forced to focus solely on finishing the bowl first—further experience had taught you that eating slowly could prove liable to have your meal taken away early. Did you *really* want to eat this all, however? It would leave you horny, certainly, and could never be mistaken for appetizing. [[Finish your meal.->CatEatAll]] [[Leave the last bit.->CatEatEnd]]

<img src=" https://i.imgur.com/y67txhy.png" width="75%" height="75%"> Your memory may be shoddy, but you remember these at least: *glass* devices, the ubiquitous handheld alternative to more bulky computers. Rectangular in shape, with gently rounded edges, the transparent unit lights up with lettering inside at your touch. If you were hoping for more information on yourself, or even just an existent extranet connection, you’re sorely disappointed. You recall that Torei largely operated outside of the galactic information network, and that was ignoring the significant delays and cost such communication demanded given the remoteness of the system. As to the device in your hand, it appears to have been recently wiped clean. The only non-standard file on the system appears to be a copy of “The Blagger’s Guide to Torei,” automatically installed while connected to the local network. You don’t have the time or inclination to read what appears to be a meaty manual, but a couple topics do jump out to you: [[Read the entry, “Torean Reproduction, or: where are all the men?!”->GlassRepro]] [[Read the entry, “Rewriting Gender, the Torean Way"->GlassTrans]] [[Read the entry, “Ringdoms, Neither Ring-Shaped nor Kingdoms (Usually?)"->GlassRing]] [[That's enough reading for now.->LOOKING AROUND]]

**Torean Reproduction, or: where are all the men?!** *We may have as yet failed to find other sentient life in the abyssal reaches of space, but variations do exist among us humans, and the planet Torei’s particular history is no exception. One needs only walk down the street to recognize the most immediate peculiarity of the Torean people, and that is the predominance of women. Official population counts put the male to female ration at 1-to-10, a rate achieved largely to their natural physiology.* *Torean men are Haploid, while Torean women are Diploid. As we do not expect the average reader to have focused all that much in biology class, in short this means that sexual intercourse between men and women always produce a female child. In turn, if a women goes without fertilization in this manner, she will eventually give birth to a male child (over a far longer period of time, and if birth control is not utilized, which gets into biomedical topics that could fill a thousand other entries). This also means that Torean men do not have fathers, and are instead inheriting genetically from their mother’s fathers (thus their grandfathers.)* *Confused yet? Bumblebees (which incidentally like most insects are not found on Torei) reproduce in a similar manner, and that hive-like structure may best explain WHY this occurs. For that, one must look to the progenitors of Torean civilization, their eternal polar AIs…* [[Return to the index.->Hotel Glass]]

**Rewriting Gender, the Torean Way ** *The planet Torei is renowned for its biomedical capabilities, but of more interest for many is how that intersects with cultural tendencies towards gender. It is true that men are generally seen more favorably planetside, if only because they are rarer, and thus more predisposed towards wealth. One would perhaps think that imbalance leads to strict limitations on gender, but the truth is far different indeed.* *Transitioning between genders is relatively easy (if expensive) on Torei, for offworlders one needs only reach the planet and book an appointment (or several, depending on the breadth of said transition) with the Ministry of Improvements. Male-to-female changes are straightforward, capable of even achieving reproductive capability if Torean physiology is adopted, but prospective patients should be wary: Torean laws apply far differently towards women, and registration with the Ministry of Wombs should not be taken lightly. Few Toreans utilize this procedure however, as male slaves are far more valuable, and free males rarely wish to relinquish any bit of their power. Female-to-male changes are similar in cost, but the with added economic consideration that any additional value earned from joining the relatively rare ranks of men on the planet is generally offset by the cost of the procedure in the first place.* [[Return to the index.->Hotel Glass]]

**Ringdoms, Neither Ring-Shaped nor Kingdoms (Usually?)** *Comparable to nation-states, Ringdoms are the foundational political unit that dominate the largely habitable ring around equatorial Torei. Despite the name they do indeed come in all manner of shapes and sizes, along with an equally myriad variation in government types. Kingdoms, republics, theocracies, and commonwealths, as well as everything in between run from what’s called the “Mountainous” region surrounding the singular Space Elevator, and the Antipodes, the region on the far side of the planet. Talking in generalities about Ringdoms is always dangerous, but one can at least say that those nearest the space elevator are the most familiar in manner to offworlders and travelers. Galactic-level amenities are common, representation with offworld trade groups can provide some manner of diplomatic protection, and local governments are generally progressive (at least by Torean standards). In turn, the Antipodes are often fiercely traditional, with technological adoption varying widely. The Ringdom of Aekora, in which you now stand, is in the Mountainous region, but does not abut the space elevator directly. It is a Diarchy, ruled by a pair of Diarchs elected to the positions. While technically open to any Torean-born Aekoran citizen, in practice these positions have split between the richest two families in the Ringdom—the Naram-Sin, and the Sargon.* [[Return to the index.->Hotel Glass]]

Intended primarily for tourists, the kiosk nevertheless appears well suited for assuaging your amnesia. Quite literally thousands of pages and articles arise to meet your curious finger, which you recognize quickly as far too much for any one person to read through without camping for several days. Instead you focus upon two main sections, a series of "Special Articles" that touch on all manner of interesting topics, and a serialized "History of Torei" providing a generalized background on the planet. **Special Articles** [[Read the entry, “Torean Reproduction, or: where are all the men?!”->GlassRepro2]] [[Read the entry, “Rewriting Gender, the Torean Way"->GlassTrans2]] [[Read the entry, “Ringdoms, Neither Ring-Shaped nor Kingdoms (Usually?)"->GlassRing2]] **History of Torei** [[Read the entry, "The Milky Way, Origins"->Milky]] [[Read the entry, "Off Course"->OffCourse]] [[Read the entry, "Building the Habitat"->BuildHab]] [[Read the entry, "The First Humans"->FirstHumans]] [[Read the entry, "Husbandry"->Husbandry]] [[Read the entry, "Farmers"->Farmers]] [[Read the entry, "The Sharecropping Wars"->Sharecrop]] [[Read the entry, "Free Humanity"->FreeHuman]] [[Read the entry, "The Princess Thrall"->PrinceThrall]] [[Read the entry, "Polar Relations"->PolarRelations]] [[Read the entry, "Dissolution"->Dissolution]] [[Read the entry, "Discovery"->Discvoer]] [[Read the entry, "Off Route Trade"->ORTrade]] [[Read the entry, "Gunboat Diplomacy"->Gunboat]] [[Read the entry, "The Future"->Future]] **History of Torei, Audio-Version** [[An audio version?->HistoryAudio]] [[That's enough reading for now.->CustomHub]]

**Torean Reproduction, or: where are all the men?!** *We may have as yet failed to find other sentient life in the abyssal reaches of space, but variations do exist among us humans, and the planet Torei’s particular history is no exception. One needs only walk down the street to recognize the most immediate peculiarity of the Torean people, and that is the predominance of women. Official population counts put the male to female ration at 1-to-10, a rate achieved largely to their natural physiology.* *Torean men are Haploid, while Torean women are Diploid. As we do not expect the average reader to have focused all that much in biology class, in short this means that sexual intercourse between men and women always produce a female child. In turn, if a women goes without fertilization in this manner, she will eventually give birth to a female child (over a far longer period of time, and if birth control is not utilized, which gets into biomedical topics that could fill a thousand other entries). This also means that Torean men do not have fathers, and are instead inheriting genetically from their mother’s fathers (thus their grandfathers.)* *Confused yet? Bumblebees (which incidentally like most insects are not found on Torei) reproduce in a similar manner, and that hive-like structure may best explain WHY this occurs. For that, one must look to the progenitors of Torean civilization, their eternal polar AIs…* [[Return to the index.->Guide]]

Long long ago, back when humanity had only begun to spread out of its spiral arm of its home galaxy, an empire had ambitions. This empire, known only to history as “The Laminate Culture” or “The Lamination People” because of the style of clothing they produced, saw the end of expansion within the Milky Way before most of the rest of us had. Due to coincidences in the angular momentum of outer-spiral stars, they were hedged in by strong nations they had a tense yet stable peace with. They needed someplace to grow, but didn’t dare move in on any of the stars in their neighborhood. And so an ingenious yet barmy plan was hatched to send colonists to the Andromeda galaxy. The plan was to settle those stars with Laminate Culture colonies early, and spread outward through that galaxy before anyone else had managed to start an expedition. To their credit, they thought long-term: the journey would take a thousand years, and they’d have no way of ferrying wealth from these new stars to the motherworld. This was a very very long game, and it took a special kind of desperation to even want to play it. You can’t send a live crew on a thousand-year journey that never comes close to any stars. A generation-ship would need more fuel for life support on such a journey than it would for deceleration. The fleet they designed was effectively a big dumb intergalactic comet: machinery and gene banks and artificial intelligences wrapped in a giant geode of protective minerals and ice. Everything would just sit off and safe and inert until it came near the energy of a star again. [[Return to the index.->Guide]]

Of course, as you can all guess now, this little spore never made it to Andromeda. Stories differ on what happened to it. Some say that the geode craft had some sort of purely analog course-correcting device that locked onto a stray stellar cluster in intergalactic space. Others say that something went wrong, and emergency systems woke to active mode and changed the ship’s course. The more fanciful tales tell of signals sent from the Milky Way to sabotage the project by changing the objectives. Whatever the reason, the ship took a rendez-vous course that brought it to a stable orbit around the most suitable of a handful of lonely stars stuck like an island out in the nowhere between the galaxies. The light of this star melted the geode and woke up the machines, who began building factories and supply lines to construct a suitable habitat for the colony. As I’ve mentioned before, the amount of planning that went into this project is breathtaking. The original implementors hadn’t considered their payload would get mired in this backwater, but they’d designed the construction phase to bootstrap itself even in harsh conditions. Simple machines built factories that spat out more complicated machines that built more factories to make even better machines. This process continued until at least three of the AIs in the fleet had been augmented enough to begin the next phase. [[Return to the index.->Guide]]

Once the brains were awake, it was time to build a home for organic life. None of the planets in the cluster were likely globes, so the machines took a rocky ball on the edge of the Goldilocks zone and launched all the chunks of ice and carbonaceous chondrite they could find. If you think the timescale for the original mission was long, well the AIs had near-infinite patience. Piece by piece over tens of thousands of years, they built up a planet from dry stone into something that could support life. Machines around the various stars in the cluster lensed starlight to knock matter out of stable orbits and off toward the new planet. I’ve been on expedition, and seen the lens devices with my own eyes. They’re impressive machines, like vast engines of war from our distant and more violent past. I’m told they still work, if the AIs ever want to use them again. The planet’s new crust slowly cooled around the freshly molten core, and this is where the Torei we know today began. The machines set down at the two poles and dug intricate tunnels through to the hot mantle beneath, making impossibly complicated fractal corkscrew patterns. Through coriolis forces, heat, pressure and other simple physics the magma was separated out into component elements useful for generating an atmosphere. The machines built tetrahedral “caps” of sorts atop the vents from these tunnels, and did all of the final distillation and synthesis in them. These pyramids are apparently still there inside the current-day ziggurats. The real machinery for atmospheric generation descends down into the network of tunnels, but there is a hollow space inside the zigs where the caps can be seen. Ah, I suppose you all have the famous image of the Dahom ziggurat in the snow. Well imagine that landscape with no snow yet, because the air was too dry. Now imagine that the vast stepped pyramid is only one-twentieth the size, and smooth-sided. That’s how they got started. Those little pyramids worked tirelessly for centuries to generate an atmosphere suitable for garden crops and large mammals. The ziggurats at Mazos and Dahom were built later, and we have hints that they were an act of desperation. We think that the AIs realized that they weren’t making enough progress on a self-sustaining biosphere. They created the zigs as habitat domes with the hopes that human workers could help speed up the project. [[Return to the index.->Guide]]

If that was the plan, then it worked. The first humans probably awoke inside the bottom level of one of the zigs, before they built the upper layers. They’d have had hydroponic gardens already running to give them fresh food and filtered water. There would have been some livestock, but likely no birds because the air wouldn’t have been clean enough for them yet. Life for these first few generations was probably pretty miserable, even by what we see at the Torean poles today. The AIs were still completing their program of habitat creation, and to them the humans were little more than lab rats and plough-mares. The ziggurat was a castle of horrors full of biological experimentation and vat-grown chimeras. We think that this work resulted in tissue cultures that are still alive as membranes inside the atmosphere generators today. This period when Torean humans lived only inside the ziggurats is somewhat hard to pin down, historically. Most of what we have is myth from the humans and propaganda from the AIs, so who knows what to believe. All we can really say is that this period marked the development of the current social system at the poles. [[Return to the index.->Guide]]

The goal of the AIs was to make Torei habitable for normal humans, but the death rate among the early populations was too high. The bio-engineering research program produced humans who were more durable, and could withstand more of the half-made world. Specialized organisms were seeded at the equator, to try and build up biomass where the conditions were most favorable. Life on Torei began slowly to step outside, but it was all strange new breeds meant specifically for that world. Since this was a breeding program, the human genotype was altered to produce nine females for every male. The reproductive systems and sexual drives of these humans were cranked up to unusual levels for maximal fertility. Each man would impregnate one woman per month, like clockwork. The population grew and new levels were built to make the ziggurats we know today. Controlling such a population was not the same task as it had been before. During each pole’s summer, when the sun did not set, humans were let out onto the planet’s surface in laminate environment suits. These were an early form of today’s isolation laminates that the Emissaries wear, and they did far less. The wearer was protected from the unfinished atmosphere outside, and infosystems in the helmet kept the AI in control of what the occupant saw and heard. What originally started as an environment suit for humans being let outside soon became a population control mechanism. A misbehaving colonist could be locked into one of these suits and made to act as an internal police force. The suits could simulate almost any sensation to the wearer’s flesh, which made it an efficient system for re-training. The colonists’ ramped-up sex drive and lack of almost any other means of entertainment meant that the AIs had a convenient reward system. Pain is always an effective punishment, but the AIs learned how to prey on a person’s fears and desires. What we’ve seen in the present day suggests that even a limited time in the isolation suits completely changes a person. And this was important, because if the AIs were going to start actual farms on the equator, they’d need to be able to trust the farmers. [[Return to the index.->Guide]]

I’m not a geologist, but even I am stunned by the dramatic difference between the equatorial band and the rest of Torei. You can drive around in the badlands for days without seeing anything but igneous and metamorphic rocks. You joyride down dusty craters, follow fissures down tectonic thrusts, and then suddenly out of nowhere everything is covered in lichen. If you turn in the direction of the blooms, you start to see little green shoots in the dusty cracks, here and there. Plants with long taproots extend fernlike fronds up to the daylight. And as you continue, within only a short time you find yourself on a dirt-like surface driving through low scrub. You can tell your latitude to a novel degree of accuracy simply by looking at vegetation around you. There’s a reason the planet’s flag has that green belt around the globe. What’s also interesting is when you dig down through equatorial soil. The topsoil itself is very thin, but well-managed as a sort of sacred trust. But once you lift that off, you find caustic stuff that could make for devastating dust storms if allowed to become airborne. Early farms were planted just to control this layer of atmospheric fallout and keep it buried where it wouldn’t be a problem any more. Ask a Pembric plantation master about “leechcorn” some time, and you’ll get an amazing education in bioremediation techniques! The farms were a success, in small part thanks to the controlled watering the equator gets. The AIs control underground aquifers via long tunnels that are off limits to most humans. When it’s time for crop watering, they engineer rain showers that bathe a portion of the equatorial region. It’s run like clockwork, and typically during the evening. You sometimes see the rain schedule next to the train timetables, for example. At this point, the habitat creation project sadly stalled. The AIs needed the farms to supply its biotech machines with ingredients, and the humans needed the AIs to keep the rain falling and the air flowing. As one of the old poems put it (and apologies for my somewhat unskilled translation): “And the Dæmons kept dominion of the sky, and Men claimed dominion of the land.” [[Return to the index.->Guide]]

Of course, the “Dæmons” kept dominion over the humans, as well. The end of expansion on Torei meant that there weren’t enough isolation suits for all of the troublemakers, but the ones that were bound in them made effective police for the rest. Well, at least for a while, anyway. The problem with releasing an incredibly randy and fertile population to the furthest corner of a planet from your control is that your carefully controlled breeding program will go wildly off course. It didn’t take many generations for the natural-born humans at the equator to see the isolates as foreign oppressors and set plans to overthrow them. This begins what is possibly the bloodiest time in Torei’s history, which Toreologists have come to call the Sharecropping Wars. At first, the AIs saw this population as expendable, and simply eradicated whole towns when it encountered trouble. There were usually enough people inside the ziggurats who were willing to colonize an evacuated farmstead and live out under the Torean sun. But eventually the costs of this became clear to both sides. The exterminations and re-population efforts brought more and more humans over to the revolutionary side. Furthermore, the rebel humans had taken to destroying the crops that were destined for the ziggurats. A human colony could survive on tubers and ruminant milk for a year if they had to, but a critical missed shipment of seed oils or other organic chemical ingredients could mean trouble for the whole planet. Time and again, the humans showed the AIs that they were willing to ignore the threat of ecological disaster in pursuit of independence. This is something that seems predictable to you or I, but the AIs genuinely seemed to have trouble accepting it. They kept up their program of recolonization for over a century before finally recognizing the equatorial ring as independent. Now the “Dæmons” became “Emissaries”, and they negotated air and water rights in exchange for necessary crops. They traded technology for the food needed to keep the population in the ziggurats alive. From this point on, aside from the occasional nation that tested the AIs’ wrath or surrendered sovereignty to one of the Emissaries, the political role of the AIs remained in this stalemate nearly into the present day. For a thousand years, humanity was able to build its own society on the equator, and the “ringdoms” as we now call them were formed. [[Return to the index.->Guide]]

The politics get boring for a while here, but wars are now waged between the ringdoms more often. Alliances form, nations conquer other nations, and realms are partitioned up for heirs who then fight one another. Throughout all of this, the threat of interference by the AIs looms. It’s not really useful as a scholarly classification, but I find it’s easiest to describe this period to people as feudal. The culture was based heavily on male inheritance of arable land, and conduct of war was often regulated by the AIs. Commonly, when a dispute between ringdoms broke out, war would be a last resort after bringing the case to an Emissary. The art from this period often depicts the AIs as turbulent gods, bringing bounty and destruction on ineffable whims. The laws of men could be appealed to an Emissary, but the result would sometimes leave everyone suffering. Humanity wrestled with its relationship to the AIs, hating and fearing and ultimately relying on them even in independence. For a time, a class of priestesses emerged, promising to interpret the “Dæmons” for their masters. The story goes that an Isolate raped the women of a powerful landlord, to threaten the legitimacy of any heirs. The daughters of these unions were believed to have insight into the AIs, and allegedly they were seen talking to their biological father (a difficult claim to prove, as all male Isolates effectively look the same). These women were ejected from the estate their mothers belonged to, and began prophesying in the streets on market days. Their prescience became legendary, and soon it became common for stray women to claim insight into the plans of the AIs. This trend improved the lot of unowned women immensely over the years. Originally the term “freewomb” meant a woman whose children were not by her owner, but the word soon came to mean the children themselves. Cast out of an estate, these girls had to make their way alone in societies that did not consciously value the roles they could play. A lack of loyalties made them neutral mediators, taking over some of the roles that the Emissaries had performed before independence. But the association with Dæmon-scrying proved devastating. [[Return to the index.->Guide]]

There are Toreologists who spend their whole careers studying just one period for one house of one nation during the warring states era. Land and loyalties switched around like plains rivers during a storm, but a stalemate between five remaining ringdoms held off unification for three generations. The details of this struggle make up much of the high art on Torei, and people sometimes identify culturally by which of the five empires they descend from rather than which of the current ringdoms they currently live. There was a courtesan named Theca or Nebla (depending on the language of the tale), and the emperor of Falon made a grand present of her to the emperor of Prellatia. This gift was part of a court gesture of great magnitude, but war demanded the Falonian emperor’s attention at the home front. So he locked her into Falon’s symbols of state (scepter, crown, and boots) and sent her along with an escort formed of his most trusted palace guards. He would be present in a ceremonial sense, and would arrive in person later to wear the diadem once more. By the time Theca reached Prellatia, the war in Falon had claimed the lives of the four emperors. The Prellatian emperor gloated, and tried to take the crown from Theca’s head. Her guards dispatched this ruler expertly, and in a legendary battle managed to hold the Prellatian palace. There were further battles, but within a year all of the noble houses on Torei were swayed by Theca’s calls for peace. She was but a slave, yet she wore the Falonian and Prellation crowns. She seduced hundreds of powerful men who came to her court, and each man felt he owned a piece of her. The planet was tired of war, and Theca offered a new model for human self-rule. In a coronation ceremony that is the subject of all the great murals and hangings on Torei, she bound herself with circlets made from the crowns of the five empires: one on each ankle, one on each wrist, and Falon’s about her throat. The remaining symbols of state were made into a multi-colored chain that kept her locked to the throne for the rest of her life. Torei now knew life without war for the first time since it had settled the equator. [[Return to the index.->Guide]]

With the ringdoms no longer fractured, the need for Emissary intervention or alliances with the poles almost vanished overnight. People worried what the Dæmons would do at first, but soon forgot their fears: the rains kept coming on schedule and no waves of slick black bodies descended on their habitations. The polar AIs, for their part, seemed to enjoy this era of peace. Without war to sap resources, the cost of equatorial goods went down. They exported fewer engines of war and more agricultural and lifestyle goods. The peace dividend seemed to pay out to everyone. Unfortunately, the freewombs on the streets suffered terribly. With a culture no longer nervous about the mood of the polar Dæmons, they soon found themselves scapegoats for all kinds of problems. During the Princess Thrall’s rule, the ruling houses enacted hundreds of strict laws governing their lives. Many sought enslavement in poor houses to escape persecution, but most soldiered on in the oppressive regime. After the death of the Princess Thrall, the Council of Regents continued to meet and honor the peace for some time. One woman would be offered up from each of the original five empires per year, and chained to the throne as a group. Many of the festival queens you see today are inspired by this tradition. [[Return to the index.->Guide]]

With human society stable and peaceful, it was only a matter of time before revolutionary thinking cropped up again. This time it was more of a nationalist flavor. In the time since the wars, local cultures had a chance to flourish. Language was largely uniform thanks to the AIs’ influence on communication, but customs and traditions gave people a national identity that they wanted to see reflected. Over the next two centuries, local independence movements chipped away at the authority of the Council of Regents. Some set up their own copies of the Council, claiming authority over all of Torei. Some brought in polar Emissaries and boasted that they’d bring back the heroic age that had settled their land. In all, the Regents were as tone-deaf as the AIs had been, and they responded to uprisings with brutality. Once the dust settled, the rough borders of modern Torei were laid down. One can look at a map of Torei from three hundred years ago and still identify almost all of the nations based on a modern atlas. Unity was gone, but trade struggles replaced war as the means for jockeying among the ringdoms. The AIs had become experts at the use of political economy to control the human settlements, as the ringdoms weren’t so eager to sacrifice quality of life once they’d re-gained stability. And who knows where Torei would have gone if this had been allowed to continue? [[Return to the index.->Guide]]

All the guidebooks tell you, Cmdr. Stave Fedman was the first human from mainstream intergalactic civilization to visit Torei. While it’s true that he was the first to join Torei and the rest of humanity in contact, there is ample evidence that others discovered Torei’s stars long before this. We have records of a pirate fleet from the early days of Andromedan colonization. The logs hint of a “cache of starrs(sic)” where their plundered booty could be staged far from intergalactic jump points. Some micro-asteroids found around other stars in Torei’s cluster are believed to be wreckage from an orbital battle, but little conclusive evidence has been collected. The AIs themselves have marked certain ravines and cave systems on Torei as off-limits to humanity. Some of the more creative analysis of long-range reconnaissance hints at a structure shaped rather like the hull of a long-space frigate of the sort used five thousand years ago. It’s sketchy at best, but it’s at least somewhat corroborated by faint burn marks on the surface rock when the regolith layer is cleared by wind. At any rate, Torean humans themselves had no contact with the outside world until Commander Fedman’s expedition. Torei’s cluster had been known since regular passage to Andromeda had opened up, but the cost of visiting it hadn’t been justifiable. Once the cost of habitable land in the Milky Way had climbed back up and the technology for space travel had advanced enough, it was only a matter of time before someone visited each little isolated star out in intergalactic space hoping for a homestead. Fedman’s diaries were cleaned up for the official record, but at least three versions claiming to be the originals can be found in bookshops all over Torei. Each one tells a slightly different tale of the debauchery and revelling he engaged in on his visit, but they’re all really based on interviews with his crew. [[Return to the index.->Guide]]

The ringdoms built landing pads to attract visiting ships, but all of the orbital infrastructure was controlled by the AIs. Voidcraft would stay in a solar orbit for ages before being permitted to even approach a Torean orbit. The AIs vetted and quarantined visitors fastidiously. When a ship was allowed to the surface, the humans paid top prices for any cargo aboard. At first, the humans bartered: the AIs had spent tens of thousands of years perfecting genetic manipulation and biotechnology as part of the habitat creation project, and Torei had the capacity for medical services unavailable anywhere else in the cosmos. Eventually all of the nations were able to trade in common currency, and word started to get out that they paid handsomely for certain cargoes. A flotilla of rough trading ships sat idle in orbit of Torei’s star, each waiting for permission from the Dæmon Dockmasters to land. From time to time a chaff-runner would make an attempt at unauthorized landing, and some would succeed. The AIs dutifully broadcast the registration IDs of all impounded vessels, and there are some downright chilling recordings from the captured pilots who claimed to have “defected” to Dahom or Mazos. In retrospect it’s obvious why the AIs were so picky, but at the time they seemed as mysterious to us as they did to the Torean humans. The AIs were still pulling the strings of the human economy, and wanted a surplus in goods needed at the ziggurats and a defecit of items needed at the equator. So generally a lot of food and water and hydrocarbon mixtures made it through, while processed goods and technology stayed in orbit. [[Return to the index.->Guide]]

Unfortunately for the AIs, it was the manufacturers of technology and processed goods that had the strongest space forces. The Zanweg Cartel sent an armada directly into Torean geosynchronous orbit and began to lower a tether to the peak of the highest mountain on Torei’s equator. With fighter escorts running interference swarm patterns around the tether, a full-scale orbital lift was built along it’s length. The space elevator on Torei changed everything. The mountain it was built on was not very high, but it never had a chance to build up any soil layer of note. It had been disputed territory for centuries, and several ringdoms that abutted it considered it a national treasure. Once the base anchor port was completed, the borders were formalized and the tower was declared a neutral intergalactic trade zone, and all ringdoms on that side of the planet were granted access corridors to the base. Once trade in industrial goods opened up, the neighboring ringdoms were able to build vast tower arcologies around the planetside port spire. The more wealthy nations were able to build skybridges to the orbital lift tower from the tops of their own structures. It’s a common for a vast city to spring up around one of these, but Torei has over a dozen! I said this was unfortunate for the AIs, and it really was. The economy has swung out of their control, and the habitat-creation project is seriously compromised by this. If the planet never becomes self-sustaining, they may resort to force once more. It remains to be seen how well Mazos and Dahom adapt to this new reality. They’ve been slow to change before, probably because a biosphere-building project requires a very patient long-term mindset, and they seem to treat the human economy as yet another ecological system. [[Return to the index.->Guide]]

The ringdoms seem to be doing a brisk business in sex tourism, tax havens, and basic medical services. The AIs could outclass them on the last one, if they ever decided to. Of course, it could lead to their biotech secrets getting out, which would ruin any advantage they have. The AIs have always held control over the badlands, but they appear to be stepping up their game lately. Word is that they’re losing population and have to spend more and more of their resources sending Emissaries further and further afield. The unrest at the poles is helped by agitator-liberator groups that run a sort of underground railroad to help people flee to the ringdoms. One of the reasons the AIs are stretched thin is that they’ve begun to maintain a space fleet. It’s a rag-tag collection of used and commandeered vessels, but they’ve been spotted at ports in three galaxies. They may be trying to export their services, and they seem to buy exactly the same things they’ve always needed. And of course Torean expansion to other stars was always part of their mandate. The Dockmaster is largely silent, and only issues quarantine orders from time to time. It could be busy managing the polar fleets and preparing for conquest. We just have no way of knowing. [[Return to the index.->Guide]]

*Provided free of charge thanks to a generous grant by the Aekoran Tourism Agency, the Blagger's History of Torei is now available in its complete serialized form as an audio recording. Consent to data transfer...?* (link: "Grant Consent.")[(open-url: 'https://soundcloud.com/gospodinp/a-blaggers-history-of-torei')] [[Return to the index.->Guide]]

Lapping up the final chunks of your slave feed, you then quickly run your tongue along the edge, ensuring you sucked down every last bit. Only then would the soubrette above you be pleased, after all, and if she was not she most *certainly* would make sure your Mistress was aware. She glances pointedly down once you finally inch away, but appears satisfied. “Very good, Cici!” You feel full, and worse—or perhaps better—increasingly *aroused*. It wasn’t the same as your buttplug could induce, or a hand between your legs. That was sweet and simple, the source clear, the build towards climax easily charted. This is something else, something harder to define. A background sensation you could not shake, a whisper just out of earshot that promised your every carnal delight. Bound and gagged, collared and locked into tight laminate, your daily meal ensured you thought of little else besides your cunt. [[Moan lewdly.->CatMM]] [[Show your appreciation, lick her boots.->CatBoot]]

Almost as soon as you lift your head to move away, you feel a heeled boot plant itself firmly on the back of your head, forcing it down again. From above, (if: $CorSlave is true)[Corinth](else:)[the soubrette] clucks her tongue. “Oh no, Cici, you will *finish* your food like a good kitten. Mistress would be most saddened if you went to bed hungry, hmm?” To guarantee that, the boot remains firmly in place. [[You keep lapping it up.->CatEatAll]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/MncpIX6.jpg" width="35%" height="35%"> It takes you a moment, a *long* moment, to recognize the raven-haired woman who strides confidently through the door. Even then you cannot bring yourself to believe it, not until the secretarial slave asks her name, and she responds. “Corinth Sylvette.” The last few months at the Academy had seen you transformed, adapting to your new role upon Torei, and the same seems true for Corinth—in a most spectacular fashion. Your memories may still be less than whole, but the woman who approaches your cage after signing off with the secretary very much looks the part of a Torean Mistress, with little of the Corinth you remember. Tall knee high stiletto heels add an imperious snap to every step she takes, while the laminate one piece she wore seemed to demand attention, even if the long coat of a similar midnight color kept her dignity. Even her crimson-painted lips seem to dictate, not merely speak the word that emerges as greeting. “Hey.” It hangs in the air between you, filling further and further with your apprehension. Yet then she smiles, relaxing just a bit, and there the Corinth you remember spills out from the mask of the steely Mistress. Not a disguise, you conclude, but a new Corinth. Lost and reveling in the wonders of Torei. “Try not to stare *too* much,” she teases, still holding that smile. “And get on your knees, uh, *slave*.” [[“You look so different!"->CorEnd4Oops]] [[“…yes, Mistress.”->CorEnd4]]

The smoky makeup around her eyes makes the shifting of her brows, furrowing a bit in legitimate displeasure, all the more obvious. “There will be time to talk, but you must remember your place. *On your knees.*” She does not sound liable to ask nicely again. [[“…yes, Mistress.”->CorEnd4]]

Moving to your knees, spreading your legs and bowing your head as you had been taught, Corinth opens the cell door. She seems even taller as she stands above you, brushing a bit of your hair away from your shoulders. Reaching to her purse she produces a black circlet of what your furtitive glances first presume to be laminate, but the weight with which she handles it suggests a steel core at the very least. You realize the intention immediately. A collar. *Your* new collar. (set: $Inv to (a:)) (if: $CorOverride is true)[“Seems our little plan went perfectly,](else:)[“I just knew you would be listed for auction eventually,]” she asserts. “Even so… it is a bit hard to believe this is where we are, huh? I certainly never thought I would cash out from our, well former, employer. Stay on Torei. But… mhm, I did, didn’t I?” She lowers the collar, lining it up with your throat as much as allowing you to examine it closer. It is indeed coated in a thin aesthetic layer of laminate, yet with careful engraving that allowed the silver of the steel beneath to shine through, spelling out a short statement: *Property of Mistress Sylvette.* (if: not ($Inv contains "Corinth's collar"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "Corinth's Collar"))] (colour: red)[Corinth's Collar added!] “Ready to enter my service?” [[“Yes, Mistress.”->CorEnd5A]] [[“Of course!”->CorEnd5B]]

“So formal,” she teases. “But that’s good. Your auction price had a slight premium for being Academy-trained, after all.” Pressing the collar forward, it comes up against your throat, momentarily cold before your own body heat seeps through laminate and steel alike. With a quiet, but so very final feeling **click** the hidden mag-lock behind engages and Corinth can pull away. Your collar remains, its tight embrace providing an eternal reminder of your place on Torei now. That of a slave, owned by the Mistress above you. To the collar a short length of chain is then attached, a leash, which Corinth tugs to bring you to your feet. “Let’s get out of here, yeah? We don’t need to hurry, but we also shouldn’t just waste time hanging about the market. I setup dinner reservations for us, to celebrate the new… relationship, between us. But before that we have to make your appointment, at the Ministry of Improvements.” Already she’s pulling you along, into the warren of hallways that made up the Prime Market’s slave pens. “We can talk things over at dinner.” [[“My appointment… at the Ministry of Improvements?”->CorEndMin]] [[“Yes, Mistress.”->CorEnd6]]

“So enthusiastic,” she teases. “But that’s good. Your auction price had a slight premium for being Academy-trained, after all.” Pressing the collar forward, it comes up against your throat, momentarily cold before your own body heat seeps through laminate and steel alike. With a quiet, but so very final feeling **click** the hidden mag-lock behind engages and Corinth can pull away. Your collar remains, its tight embrace providing an eternal reminder of your place on Torei now. That of a slave, owned by the Mistress above you. To the collar a short length of chain is then attached, a leash, which Corinth tugs to bring you to your feet. “Let’s get out of here, yeah? We don’t need to hurry, but we also shouldn’t just waste time hanging about the market. I setup dinner reservations for us, to celebrate the new… relationship, between us. But before that we have to make your appointment, at the Ministry of Improvements.” Already she’s pulling you along, into the warren of hallways that made up the Prime Market’s slave pens. “We can talk things over at dinner.” [[“My appointment… at the Ministry of Improvements?”->CorEndMin]] [[“Yes, Mistress.”->CorEnd6]]

“Yeah, of course!” Corinth replies. “It’s almost a tradition on Torei, you know, to make such an appointment after buying a slave from auction or wherever. There are so many ways to improve a slave, and the Ministry is so inexpensive for many procedures so it just makes sense, you know? Nothing too dramatic, so no need to worry. Just going to fill out your measurements a bit, bust and hips, thighs too. Have your tracking chip updated with my credentials, a set of rainbow controls, adjust your gag reflex… hm, ah! The most important part!” Looking over her shoulder, she winks. “I have a thing for red-heads, so… get ready for *that.*” [[“You’re… really serious about this…”->CorEndSer]] [[“I understand, Mistress.”->CorEnd6]]

“Great!” Your Mistress enthuses, leading you onward. “Let’s get to it, yeah?” It’s rhetorical, you lost your right to decide months back after all. And much like your time at the Academy the next few hours pass quickly, even if you’re rendered unconscious for some of them. The Ministry of Improvements, your submission to the waiting Lancers there… it all passes in a blur. [[Your collar remains, however. Always there, tight and unyielding.->CorEnd7]]

She stops, turning around to all but loom over you. Reaching up, she brushes the hair of her bangs from her eyes to stare into yours all the more readily. “I am serious about this. If Torei is to be my-- *our* home, I must be. You should know better than most how easily it is for a freewomb to find herself in a collar, hm?” She runs a fingernail along yours, smiling. “Luckily you’re in mine.” [[“I… see, Mistress.”->CorEnd6]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/A6LtL86.jpg" width="35%" height="35%"> (set: $Gear to 23) “Hey—babe, did you hear me?” You snap back to reality with a bit of a start, recalling where you are. Club Lush, at one of the private tables in the VIP section above the general dance floor. Corinth’s dinner date, as planned, your visit to the Ministry of Improvements already completed. Glancing down, you take in the dress Corinth had picked for you—a long laminate ensemble matched with gloves and heels. Laminate thinwear even provided for your sheer stockings. Of course your collar remained as well, as tight as ever, but she had accessorized it as well by utilizing the hardpoints on the side for a set of short laminate straps. It may be absent for the time, but affixing a gag of some sort would take only moments. “I was saying you may drop protocol,” your date, and owner, explains over a charming smile from her seat across the table. She too had utilized a wardrobe, acquiring a corset. Her coat remained as well, but was seated on the curve of the small booth between you both. “You may ask any question you like. I’m sure you have plenty.” [[Examine yourself. You feel... different.->CorExam]] [[“What happened with you, after I went to the Academy?->CorAskAcad]] [[“So I’m your slave… what does that mean, exactly?”->CorAskSlave]] [[“You’ve really taken to Torei, haven’t you?”->CorAskTor]] [[Take a bite of your dinner.->CorAskDinner]]

"Well," Corinth begins, “(if: $CorOverride is true)[I had our plan, of course. But you had the easy part, once you began your path you stopped having to make choices.](else:)[I knew I just couldn’t leave you on this planet. So once you left, I took matters into my own hands.] I had to figure out how to, you know, survive on this planet. Beyond a few days tourism. Couldn’t continue working as we had been, after all, so I cashed out. That bought me time, but a freewomb on Torei need to take precautions, right? So I did. I’m a liaison now, for Expedition Torei. It’s an offworlder firm, obviously given the name, that provides guided experiences for tourists a bit wary of the… let us call it “unbridled” Torean experience. That’s how I make my credits, and how I could afford you.” [[“Well… you certainly look different.”->CorLook]] [[“Was I expensive?”->CorExpense]] [[“You must have a home on Torei, then?”->CorHome]] [[“Can I ask about something else, Mistress?”->CorDate]]

“You are my slave,” she agrees, pointedly staring at your collar before turning the question around back at you. “What do you *think* that means?” [[“That you can free me now, you have that right!”->CorAskFree]] [[“That I’m your property.”->CorAskProp]] (if: $CorOverride is true)[[[“That we can be together, as we talked about.”->CorAskTogether]]](else:)[[["That we can be together, as... partners."->CorAskTogether]]]

“I have.” There is no reservation in her response, no hesitation. “Once we talked and decided that we would be trying to make our home here, I made it a priority. But actually *living* it, everyday while you were at the Academy… I’ve come to realize just how liberating this planet is, babe. You don’t need to hide your desires here. The universe is big, real big, but this planet is unique that way.” [[Unique indeed.->CorDate]]

(if: $Strike is 0)[The bowl that holds your meal is hardened laminate, semi-transparent and quite well suited to Club Lush’s aesthetic. Of the meal itself however, compliments are harder to find. Corinth had ordered it for you, the proper name being Slave Feed, but it looks to you like a white oatmeal. There is no smell, nor any real indication of attendant flavor. [[“I don’t… really need to eat this, right?"->FeedAsk]] [[“I’m not eating this, Corinth."->FeedNo]] [[Take a few bites.->Feed1]] [[Pull back, don’t eat any for now.->CorDate]] ](if: $Strike is 1)[You know now the slave feed in your bowl lacks flavor or much satisfaction, but you can already feel the nutritional value—the hunger that had been burning in your stomach is already somewhat sated. [[“I don’t… really need to eat this, right?"->FeedAsk]] [[“I’m not eating this, Corinth."->FeedNo]] [[Take a few more bites.->Feed2]] [[Pull back, don’t eat any for now.->CorDate]] ](if: $Strike is 2)[Only a bit more remains of your dinner, the Slave Feed having been mostly consumed. [[Take a few more bites.->Feed3]] [[Pull back, don’t eat any for now.->CorDate]] ]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/A6LtL86.jpg" width="35%" height="35%"> Your Mistress takes a sip of her drink, a bright infusion of blue that reflects brightly off the laminate covering her chest. She seems to notice where your gaze had fallen, grinning as she nods. “Ask away.” [[Examine yourself. You feel... different.->CorExam]] [[“What happened with you, after I went to the Academy?->CorAskAcad]] [[“So I’m your slave… what does that mean, exactly?”->CorAskSlave]] [[“You’ve really taken to Torei, haven’t you?”->CorAskTor]] (if: $Strike is < 3)[[[Take a bite of your dinner.->CorAskDinner]] [["That's all the questions I have."->CorNotDone]]](else:)[[["That's all the questions I have."->CorDinnerEnd]]]

“Oh, so you *noticed*,” Corinth laughs, a hand to her chest. “Right, well. Part of that is my work. Offworlders come down the Way Up knowing little, but they have expectations. My looking the part of a proper Mistress helps sell the experience. And you know the saying: dress for success, right? Truant Officers and other bothersome people here don’t often bother someone who looks one,” she counts off her finger, “Torean and two, like she means business.” That last line is delivered with sudden fearsomeness, your widened eyes earning a second laugh from the Mistress. “And, you know, there was you to consider. If I was going to make a serious attempt to go after you, to do this… whole thing, I felt I had to earn the *right* to own a slave. Look the part, be the part, that sort of thing.” She leans over the table, biting her bottom lip. “Do you like it?” [[“I do! You really own it, Corinth.”->YesDress]] [[“Yes. You’re… beautiful.->YesDress]] [[“I just never expected it from you…”->NoDress]] [[“No.->NoDress]]

“It’s not proper to talk specifics with a slave about their auction,” Corinth notes, sounding very much like a Torean traditionalist in that moment. “You weren’t… terribly expensive, I will say. One of those Academy Dolls, or a proper fully certified soubrette, those can break a bank. Otherwise its not out of reach for most who live on this planet to own at least one slave, there are just so many collared girls—and the occasional man, available.” She shrugs. “Point is, I got the one I wanted. And your time at the Academy ensures you’re useful to me immediately, if we’re looking at it from a less… romantic view. In a few years I hope to own at least a half dozen collared girls.” [[“A half dozen? Why?”->CorDozen]] [[“I thought… it would be just me.”->CorMe]] [[“Can we talk about you? You certainly look different.”->CorLook]] [[“You must have a home on Torei, then?”->CorHome]] [[“Can I ask about something else, Mistress?”->CorDate]]

Corinth nods. “Oh yeah. Nothing impressive mind you, but it’s a nice enough apartment I suppose. Decided to stay in Aekora because you would be auctioned here, but also its just cheaper than the Ringdoms right up against the Way Up.” Swirling her drink a bit, she takes a sip before continuing. “It came with all the peculiar Torean bits too. You know, d-rings and hardpoints around the bed frame, suspension fittings on some parts of the ceiling…” she winks. “The fun stuff.” [[“Can we talk about you? You certainly look different.”->CorLook]] [[“Was I expensive?”->CorExpense]] [[“Can I ask about something else, Mistress?”->CorDate]]

“Then finish your dinner,” she instructs pointedly. “I won’t be satisfied until you’ve licked that bowl clean.” [[“Ah, fine! Can I still ask questions too, Mistress?”->CorDate]]

Her smile this time is simple. Sincere. “Thank you. Torean standards for a woman’s looks are very high, as I’m sure you’re aware. Especially for a freewomb, especially *especially* for a freewomb slaveowner. Owning you puts me a step above the competition, so to speak. I’ll make sure you’re always looking your best, and I promise I will as well.” She meets your gaze, merely holding it for some time, enjoying the experience. Taking it all in. [[“The glasses are new too.”->CorGlasses]] [[“Was I expensive?”->CorExpense]] [[“You must have a home on Torei, then?”->CorHome]] [[“Can I ask about something else, Mistress?”->CorDate]]

She smiles again, ruefully. “Well, I can take solace in the fact you don’t get a say in… much of anything anymore. Torean standards for a woman’s looks are very high, as I’m sure you’re aware. Especially for a freewomb, especially *especially* for a freewomb slaveowner. Owning you puts me a step above the competition, so to speak. I’ll make sure you’re always looking your best, and I promise I will as well.” She meets your gaze, merely holding it for some time, enjoying the experience. Taking it all in. [[“The glasses are new too.”->CorGlasses]] [[“Was I expensive?”->CorExpense]] [[“You must have a home on Torei, then?”->CorHome]] [[“Can I ask about something else, Mistress?”->CorDate]]

You look down, to the expanse of red laminate that constituted your dress for the evening. The material is as glossy and tight as any other you’ve worn upon Torei, but it’s the way you fill it out that feels so remarkably different. The Ministry of Improvements had made several changes to you, adding to the work done during your time at the Academy, as requested by your so newly established Mistress. You had been a bit on the lean side upon arriving on Torei, months ago, but now your curves press against the laminate readily. At chest and hips your measurements have been adjusted towards the bountiful norm that Torei—and most men you had ever met—seemed to prefer. Even without a corset your waist presents a nicely tapered look as well, only adding to the effect. It’s harder to observe, but a glance towards any mirror would reveal your hair to be a bright and insistent red now—the color as bold as it is now natural, the Ministry’s work going further then simply dyes. Below the neck you’ve been denuded of hair, although that matched galactic sensibilities as much as Torean ones. Yet its something *else* that had drawn your attention downward in the first place, a trembling sensation of… aching desire, far stronger than you had ever known, between your legs. You’re dressed in laminate, collared at the throat, but you should not be *this* horny. Across the table, Corinth tips her head curiously. “Problem?” [[“N-No, Mistress…”->CorAANo]] [[“I’m… wet, Mistress.”->CorAAYes]]

“Huh?” The momentary confusion passes as Corinth plucks the black-rimmed pair from her nose, examining them. “Ah! Well, helps sell the look. Torean Mistress, and whatnot. But they’re actually quite useful, it turns out. My set here has a projected HUD, allows me to monitor things… I used it to great effect at the auction, obviously.” She replaces them upon her face, and you do indeed notice a holographic glint over the lenses now that you’re looking for it. [[“Was I expensive?”->CorExpense]] [[“You must have a home on Torei, then?”->CorHome]] [[“Can I ask about something else, Mistress?”->CorDate]]

“Three is the minimum for a proper household. Maid, concubine, attendant. Or at least any Torean worth their salt would declare. So yeah, that’s the goal. I’ve been told once you have a slave, the credits start coming in easier—kind of a ball rolling down hill thing, it accumulates. And now I have you.” [[“I thought… it would be just me.”->CorMe]] [[“Can we talk about you? You certainly look different.”->CorLook]] [[“You must have a home on Torei, then?”->CorHome]] [[“Can I ask about something else, Mistress?”->CorDate]]

“Hey,” Corinth replies, leaning in to seize your full attention. “What we have is special. You’re not *just* a slave to me. But if you want to be successful on Torei, a freewomb needs a few slaves. And I do want to be successful. I will be, with your help… and submission.” [[“A half dozen? Why?”->CorDozen]] [[“Can we talk about you? You certainly look different.”->CorLook]] [[“You must have a home on Torei, then?”->CorHome]] [[“Can I ask about something else, Mistress?”->CorDate]]

Corinth nods. “I do have that right. (if: $CorOverride is true)[But that’s not what we agreed, before you went to the Academy, is it?](else:)[But I wouldn’t be doing that.] You’re a collared slave, I paid good credits for you. And I intend to make it here, on Torei. In the Torean fashion. Freeing you would accomplish little, besides my losing out on credits and you being dumped out on the streets again. You’ve already demonstrated you’re not… all that great at being a freewomb, hm?” She doesn’t sound angry, or mocking, but simply takes a firm expression. Given her makeover, the black hair and crimson lips do much to strip any arguments from your tongue. Your time at the Academy provides the rest, the training they had drilled into you shining through. “So, now that we have that established, what does your collar *mean*?” Corinth asks again. [[“That I’m your property.”->CorAskProp]] (if: $CorOverride is true)[[[“That we can be together, as we talked about.”->CorAskTogether]]](else:)[[["That we can be together, as... partners."->CorAskTogether]]]

“That’s exactly right, babe. You need to remember that, going forward. I know we were friends, and we still are, but that collar you’re wearing… it changes everything. From a Torean perspective, certainly. But I intend it to mean the same between us. You will observe slave protocol, and I will be your Mistress.” She smiles at that last word, clearly enjoying the title. Even so, her lips purse together afterward, as she looks to you even more intently. “But we never established what exactly our… relationship is, have we? (if: $CorOverride is true)[We talked about my owning you, of course. But not the specifics.](else:)[By the time I decided to attempt to buy you, you were already enslaved to the Academy. We never got to address specifics.] We should do that now. If we’re starting a new life here *together*, after all. As Torean Mistress and slave. How… do you see things between us?” The question seems deeply important to her. [[“I always felt there was… something between us, Corinth.”->CorALove]] [[“We will always be friends, Corinth.”->CorAFriends]] [[“I will serve as my collar demands. That’s it.”->CorBasic]]

“Be together,” Corinth says, repeating your words. She seems to mull them over, chewing on each syllable. “We never really discussed what that would *mean*. For us, I mean. The relationship. I’ve had a lot of time to think about it, though. Since you went away to the Academy, I mean. Which we will get to in a second.” Placing both hands upon the table between you, she smiles brightly, yet her eyes are intense—domineering even. “Before we do, you need to tell me what you are. You need to say.” [[“I’m… your property.”->CorAskProp]]

Corinth’s lips pull together tightly, her eyebrows rising with a hint of surprise and consternation. “Well… that’s understandable, I suppose.” Her disappointment fades, replaced by a look you had often seen from the Academy’s Headmistress—generally right before you were told to do something, regardless of your thoughts on the matter. “I’ll treat you as my slave, going forward. As simply as that. You were trained at the Academy in the role of a generic concubine, and that will fit my needs perfectly. I intend to use you as my sex slave, after all.” The way she says it, so nonchalantly, is perhaps the best indicator that Corinth had truly adapted to Torei’s culture. You’re in public, the occasional patron of Club Lush walking by, but she does nothing to lower her voice, or obscure her intentions. Corinth had always worn her feelings on her shoulder, and she wasn’t about to stop now. [[…sex slave?”->CorSex]] [[“What do you expect of me, then?->CorExpect]] [[“What will my duties be?”->CorDuties]]

Corinth smiles, unabashedly. “I *knew* it. Even before you started coming to Torei, when we worked together… but I never had the confidence to ever be direct about it, you know? Staying here on Torei, working to become a Mistress certainly changed that at least! And now I *own* you.” The mere thought seems to enthuse her, almost to the point of giggling from sheer pleasure. But she retains control of herself, brushing a bit of hair from her eyes as she reasserts herself. “If that’s how you feel, I think you will like what I had planned. I’ll treat you as my slave, going forward. As simply as that. You were trained at the Academy in the role of a generic concubine, and that will fit my needs perfectly. I intend to use you as my sex slave, after all.” The way she says it, so nonchalantly, is perhaps the best indicator that Corinth had truly adapted to Torei’s culture. You’re in public, the occasional patron of Club Lush walking by, but she does nothing to lower her voice, or obscure her intentions. Corinth had always worn her feelings on her shoulder, and she wasn’t about to stop now. [[…sex slave?”->CorSex]] [[“What do you expect of me, then?->CorExpect]] [[“What will my duties be?”->CorDuties]]

Corinth smiles, but with a hint of concertation pulling at the edges of her lips. “I understand,” she replies. “Then let me direct in return.” “I’ll treat you as my slave, going forward. As simply as that. You were trained at the Academy in the role of a generic concubine, and that will fit my needs perfectly. I intend to use you as my sex slave, after all.” The way she says it, so nonchalantly, is perhaps the best indicator that Corinth had truly adapted to Torei’s culture. You’re in public, the occasional patron of Club Lush walking by, but she does nothing to lower her voice, or obscure her intentions. Corinth had always worn her feelings on her shoulder, and she wasn’t about to stop now. [[…sex slave?”->CorSex]] [[“What do you expect of me, then?->CorExpect]] [[“What will my duties be?”->CorDuties]]

“Expectations, right, yes.” Collecting herself, Corinth quickly demonstrates she had given the matter considerable prior thought. “You’re a slave now and will be treated as and kept in the traditional Torean manner. I expect you to be submissive and dutiful, always minding your manners. You must recognize that you are now property. *My* property. I intend to keep you bound in most circumstances, and of course you will be wearing laminate only going forward. Textiles are far too expensive to import, and I very much like the way you wear it.” She pauses to take a sip of her drink but isn’t done yet. “I will be watching you closely and correcting you if the need arises. I don’t intend to be harsh, but I will strive to be strict with you.” [[“What will my duties be?”->CorDuties]] [[“I… understand, everything I mean.”->CorAskBr]]

“First and foremost, you will keep yourself presentable, as befits a concubine. On days that I am working, you will generally remain at our home. Until I acquire a maid those duties will be your own, and I expect things to be tidy when I return home. Most evenings… I will play with you, most certainly. Or take you out to a Club, or event. Whatever I fancy. And as for nights…” She grins, predatory. “You are a sex slave, after all.” [[“What do you expect of me, then?->CorExpect]] [[“I… understand, everything I mean.”->CorAskBr]]

“Concubine is the ‘proper’ term,” Corinth replies, even raising her hands to mimic quotation marks upon the word ‘proper’. “But… yeah. Torei has a long history of girls like you. It would make more sense, financially, to put you to work—but having a concubine is a prestige thing. So you will be attending me to social events… like this Club, and I’ve prepared a set of restraints for you to wear to bed—ah! But I’m getting ahead of myself, aren’t I!” She laughs openly. [[“What do you expect of me, then?->CorExpect]] [[“What will my duties be?”->CorDuties]]

“Good.” Corinth enthuses, clasping her hands together before her. “You always were adaptable, and the Academy ensures you are quite literally trained for this." [[“Can I ask about something else, Mistress?”->CorDate]]

“I *did* say you weren’t under normal protocols, so I won’t punish you for lying to me… but you are lying, aren’t you?” If you expected a reprimand, what follows is a surprise. “You shouldn’t do that, not with me. It is important for our relationship that you always be open with me, alright? No secrets between us.” Corinth leans in a bit. “So, come on. What’s bothering you?” [[“I’m… wet, Mistress.”->CorAAYes]]

“Oh?” Corinth’s smile is radiant, her raven hair framing the grin. “I would hope so, I spent good credits at the Ministry to ensure you generally are. But… they did warn you might not remember some of what we talked about, before you went to the Lancers. I’m assuming that’s the case?” [[“It is, Mistress.”->CorExam2]] [[“No, no… I remember. Really.”->CorExam2b]]

“Oh I *know*,” (if: $CorSlave is true)[Corinth](else:)[the soubrette] laughs, bending over to pet you gently. From your ears down your back, she finishes each stroke with a teasing flick of your tail plug. “Always so appreciative, hm? (if: $CorSlave is true)[I never thought you would take so well to being the household pet, Cici, but you have. I’m so glad you’ve found happiness in your kitten uniform! ]If only I could stay longer, but alas, I do need to continue my chores. (set: $CatCheck to 2) Your panel gag is clipped back into place, leaving only your eyes exposed from the laminate of your outfit again. Then she stands, collecting your bowl but leaving the box behind. “I know what you like,” she winks, before (if: $Vase is true and $VaseTalk is false)[turning to leave. As she does so, however, she notices the fallen vase nearby. [[Uh oh.->VaseEvent]]](else:)[heading back through the door you could not pass, returning to the rest of the estate. [[Left in her wake, hunger sated and cunt aching, you moan gently.->CatHub]]]

Crawling to (if: $CorSlave is true)[Corinth](else:)[the soubrette], you utilize your exposed mouth to lick the shiny laminate of her boots. Given your bondage you can hardly manage an effective treatment, but that was hardly the point. (if: $CorSlave is true)[Corinth](else:)[The soubrette] certainly seems pleased enough, bending over to pet you. From your ears down your back, she finishes each stroke with a teasing flick of your tail plug. “Always so appreciative, hm? (if: $CorSlave is true)[I never thought you would take so well to being the household pet, Cici, but you have. I’m so glad you’ve found happiness in your kitten uniform! ]If only I could stay longer, but alas, I do need to continue my chores. (set: $CatCheck to 2) Your panel gag is clipped back into place, leaving only your eyes exposed from the laminate of your outfit again. Then she stands, collecting your bowl but leaving the box behind. “I know what you like,” she winks, before (if: $Vase is true and $VaseTalk is false)[turning to leave. As she does so, however, she notices the fallen vase nearby. [[Uh oh.->VaseEvent]]](else:)[heading back through the door you could not pass, returning to the rest of the estate. [[Left in her wake, hunger sated and cunt aching, you moan gently.->CatHub]]]

(if: $CorSlave is true)[Corinth returns yet again](else:)[Mistress Alexandra’s soubrette returns yet again.] She glances towards the clock on the wall, but you both know the time: the sun had set, your time is up, and your owner was always quite punctual. “The Mistress awaits you,” she announces, crossing the floor in your direction. You sit patiently as she (if: $SubBetray is true)[undoes the end of your previously connected leash from your cage, winding up most of the slack along the way.](else:)[retrieves a length of laminate cord from the small set of shelves near your cage, where your supplies are kept. Hooking it to your collar, it would serve as your leash.] “Come,” (if: $CorSlave is true)[Corinth](else:)[the Soubrette] commands, giving a tug upon the leash. “We do not want to keep the Mistress waiting, do we?” [[No you do not.->CatFinal2]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/wZm7GMo.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> (set: $Gear to 22) Months later, the crack of the whip pulls your eyes open suddenly. The command is made apparent, even if it goes unspoken. To your left and behind the sound of chains and straining straps announce your team rousing, and you join with them. From your kneeling position of rest you return to your feet, a difficult maneuver given your bondage but you’re well practiced by now. Your uniform is red and black laminate, the harness locked across your body the former, boots and armbinder the latter. A garter belt at your waist nevertheless exposes your womanhood, ponies were kept in such a manner as per regulations, but it does at least hook to the stockings that emerge from your boots. *Those* are your most undoubtedly Torean feature, the knee high pieces of equipment adding a full foot to your height. Steel hooves nailed to the bottom of each ensured your footing, but it was the recurved blade that ran from them up to where your foot actually began that gave you the lengthy, loping gallop required of a ponyslave. Such boots defined you in fact, the Ministry of Improvements having not only adapted you to wearing them, but having done so in a way that made standing flat-footed difficult. Pure endurance training had provided the rest. Yet such thoughts are far from your mind as you wait in trembling anticipation, beneath the appalling heat of rural Aekora. Amongst the lichen fields near the Badlands there was little shade, and your assigned handlers generally kept you from it as a matter of principle. Your skin is well tanned as a result, amply on display to allow your sweat to run freely. [[You bite down on your bit nervously.->Pony4]]

As always, your bit gives you comfort. Laminate-padded steel, it is secured firmly between your teeth by the head harness you wear. Decorative feathers arise from your temples, red colored to match your uniform, while blinders to each side conspire with the posture collar at your throat to ensure you cannot look anywhere but forward. It kept you, *forced you*, to focus only on marching once the command came. It does not come yet, however. Voices behind you talk casually, your handlers for the day discussing their plans. You merely try to ignore the bit of sweat that runs down your brow, a welcome gust of wind proving so very cool as it tousles your hair. Like the others the sides of your head have been shaved, leaving a mane that ended in a ponytail and red bow at your mid-back. A bit further down, on your left buttock, was your brand. The Ministry of Truants’ symbol, the same all in their stable shared, encircling your new name. Or more precisely, number. 5-6, for Precinct 5, Ponyslave 6. The same marker is on your garter belt, above your cunt, and stamped on the exterior of each of your blinders. [[Your harness shifts slightly, as behind you the cart you’re affixed to is boarded. You take a deep breath.->Pony5]]

The heavy piercing at your septum marks your inhalation, filling your lungs in expectation of-- *there!* To your left a sharp crack sounds suddenly, followed by an excited moan. That would be your team Lead being whipped, the heavy laminate expertly slipped up between her legs to snap smartly just above her cunt. The command to march! Behind you the team’s Wheelers, the stronger of your quartet begin to step forward as you and your Lead do as well. Leaning into your harness, you trust it to keep you upright as you dig your hooves into the ground for traction. Getting started was always the hardest after all, but with one lurching step comes another, then another, each growing easier. [[Bring your knees up high!->HighStep]] [[Focus on getting to speed!->LowStep]]

Knowing what your handlers expected, as soon as you feel the cart moving you shift into a high step, bringing your hooved boot up until your thigh is parallel with the ground. It is far from the most efficient means of marching, but form mattered as much as function on Torei, and you would have undoubtedly been whipped had you done differently. Your boots extend your every step, amplifying the power of your stride, but the cart behind remains heavy—even for your team of four. As Second your job is to merely pay attention to the First at your left, while passing commands to the Wheeler behind you. All of this could be, and was utterly expected to occur without a spoken word. Your bit prevented speech of course, but even your handlers need not speak. Their whip could do the talking. And talk it does. The road you march along is paved, but roughly, and occasionally the driver behind notices an upcoming pothole as readily as you do. Steering takes the form of another lash of the Whip to your Lead. One upon her left flank meant to turn right, while the opposite was expected if it landed upon the left. Just how *far* she was to turn was wholly her responsibility. As if to test you, a sharp snap sounds to your side, your Lead's left flank. [[Follow her in turning right.->TestGood]] [[Follow her in turning left.->TestBad]]

You may have sought to reach speed before taking proper form, but your driver demanded differently, as evidenced by the sharp crack—and the pain that arcs across your rear. A correction, not a command, one you endeavor to follow by shifting into a high step immediately, bringing your hooved boot up until your thigh is parallel with the ground. It is far from the most efficient means of marching, but form mattered as much as function on Torei. Your boots extend your every step, amplifying the power of your stride, but the cart behind remains heavy—even for your team of four. As Second your job is to merely pay attention to the First at your left, while passing commands to the Wheeler behind you. All of this could be, and was utterly expected to occur without a spoken word. Your bit prevented speech of course, but even your handlers need not speak. Their whip could do the talking. And talk it does. The road you march along is paved, but roughly, and occasionally the driver behind notices an upcoming pothole as readily as you do. Steering takes the form of another lash of the Whip to your Lead. One upon her left flank meant to turn right, while the opposite was expected if it landed upon the left. Just how *far* she was to turn was wholly her responsibility. As if to test you, a sharp snap sounds to your side, your Lead’s left flank. [[Follow her in turning right.->TestGood]] [[Follow her in turning left.->TestBad]]

If whipped on her left, your Lead would shy to her right, turning that direction. You follow suit, leading to a smooth redirection that the two girls behind follow readily. The maneuver ensures you avoid a portion of the road that sunk into the ground, but you are not awarded for your work. Following commands and marching are expected of you, nothing more. You’re a beast of burden now, denied even speech. Your handlers only rarely interacted with you directly when on patrol. “How long do you figure, Sir?” Comes a voice from behind, one of the two female officers to which you had been assigned today. Her superior, a male, clearly takes a moment to consider. “Well, we’re about 64 miles out from the station. 5-3,” your Lead, “and her team always set a good pace. Do the math… and we’re looking at a good eight, maybe nine hour run. That’s if we push them, perhaps only give them a singular watering break. Even so, they will be well lathered by the end.” His voice turns more directly in your direction. “Any complaints?" It could have been cruel, but its not. Officer Karsis was strict, unyielding even. But he cared for the ponygirl teams. Still, an eight hour march, in full tack and harness, with the sun beating down on you? Surely you have something to say to that. [[Complain!->PonyComplain]] [[Moan!->PonyMoan]] [[Remain silent.->PonySilent]]

You turn right, but unfortunately come hip to hip with your Lead, turning in the opposite direction. She snorts in complaint just as the expected lash lands upon your buttocks, a corrective whipping for having made the mistake. The sting lingers as you hurriedly change course to your left, an awkward redirection that the two girls behind eventually follow. The maneuver ensures you avoid a portion of the road that sunk into the ground, but you are not awarded for your work. Following commands and marching are expected of you, nothing more. You’re a beast of burden now, denied even speech. Your handlers only rarely interacted with you directly when on patrol. “How long do you figure, Sir?” Comes a voice from behind, one of the two female officers to which you had been assigned today. Her superior, a male, clearly takes a moment to consider. “Well, we’re about 64 miles out from the station. 5-3,” your Lead, “and her team always set a good pace. Do the math… and we’re looking at a good eight, maybe nine hour run. That’s if we push them, perhaps only give them a singular watering break. Even so, they will be well lathered by the end.” His voice turns more directly in your direction. “Any complaints?" It could have been cruel, but its not. Officer Karsis was strict, unyielding even. But he cared for the ponygirl teams. Still, an eight hour march, in full tack and harness, with the sun beating down on you? Surely you have something to say to that. [[Complain!->PonyComplain]] [[Moan!->PonyMoan]] [[Remain silent.->PonySilent]]

You try to speak, to voice your horror at being subjected to such a cruel march. The bit between your teeth ensures its garbled however, hardly rising over the sharp report of your steel-shod hooves upon the pavement below. Still you nearly leap into the air as your driver’s whip impacts upon your upper thighs, the pain causing you to bite down hard on the laminate and steel wedged between your teeth. “You should know by now, 5-6, that you don’t have a say in this,” the man retorts, retaining the warmth of his tone. “We need to get our detainee back to the station before nightfall, and you will make the run whether you like it or not. But I know you can do it.” Officer Karsis' attention evidently drifts away afterward, commands being given to check the detainee in question. She was the reason you had ventured so far from your station after all, a runaway slave that had attempted to cross out of Aekora in the deep wilderness of its rural lichen farms. It had taken her nearly a week to make the trek, but all it had achieved were her current heavy bondage, and the long march you are condemned to. [[Best get to it, 5-6.->PonyCount]]

The bit between your teeth ensures you cannot speak, so instead you moan, lewdly protesting as much as simply announcing your frustrated arousal. Even so it hardly rises over the sharp report of your steel-shod hooves upon the pavement below. Still you nearly leap into the air as your driver’s whip impacts upon your upper thighs, the pain causing you to bite down hard on the laminate and steel wedged between your teeth. “Eager, 5-6?” the man asks, retaining his warm tone. “Good. We need to get our detainee back to the station before nightfall, and I know you girls will get us there. I have faith in you.” Officer Karsis' attention evidently drifts away afterward, commands being given to check the detainee in question. She was the reason you had ventured so far from your station after all, a runaway slave that had attempted to cross out of Aekora in the deep wilderness of its rural lichen farms. It had taken her nearly a week to make the trek, but all it had achieved were her current heavy bondage, and the long march you are condemned to. [[Best get to it, 5-6.->PonyCount]]

The bit between your teeth ensures you cannot speak, and your flanks sting at the mere *thought* of voicing your thoughts or desires without leave. Thus instead you remain quiet, the picture-perfect ponygirl straining in her harness. The sharp snap of your steel-shod hooves is the only witness to your submission. “Very good, girls. We need to get our detainee back to the station before nightfall,” the man concludes. “And the team will get us there, they are just trained for just this sort of long haul after all.” Officer Karsis' attention evidently drifts away afterward, commands being given to check the detainee in question. She was the reason you had ventured so far from your station after all, a runaway slave that had attempted to cross out of Aekora in the deep wilderness of its rural lichen farms. It had taken her nearly a week to make the trek, but all it had achieved were her current heavy bondage, and the long march you are condemned to. [[Best get to it, 5-6.->PonyCount]]

Officer Karsis’ skill with the whip is demonstrated by the pair of snaps that echo across the road, directly above you. Another unspoken command, this one indicating the begin of your long march back towards the station you now called home: an indicator of expected pace. One crack would have meant walk, three a canter, four a gallop. Two meant a trot, a comfortable enough pace for the time being. As you and the rest of your pony team settle in, you try to get into a pleasant rhythm. Back straight, knees rising to complete each high step, enhanced boots springing you forward and pulling the cart behind. You have a *long* way to go, and you know from hard-earned experience it will be a lengthy, often monotonous march. But the posture collar positioned tightly around your neck reminds you readily that you no longer have a choice when it came to such things. As a ponygirl, you will march until your legs burn, until you all but beg to stop, until your Master finally calls you to a halt. Stopping any time before would earn only the whip. [[The marathon begins!->PonyCount2]]

Knowing that your Lead would shy away from the strike, and thus turn left, you follow suit-- together leading the team in a smooth shift towards the correct path with a fork coming up in the road. Your blinders keep your attention forward, of course, but you are still able to make out plenty of the surrounding scenery as your team and cart move down the left-side road. Such as it is. The Aekoran frontier devolved into lichen farms, the land too dry to support much else, and thus wide, all but empty plains dominate either side of the road before you. The occasional moisture collector stands out amongst the brownish-red lichen, but otherwise you have little of interest to gaze upon. There is only your next high-step to truly consider, and the feeling of sweat building upon your body once more. Without trees or structures for cover you're utterly exposed. [[And you still have so long to go.->PonyCount3]]

5-3, your Lead, stumbles a bit as you turn in opposite directions-- you've made a mistake. Barely does the realization cross your mind before the whip is applied, Officer Karsis flicking you sharply across the buttocks. His accuracy is as astounding as it is deeply frustrating, but you have no one to blame but yourself. Snorting sharply, you focus on turning left before looking again to the road ahead. Your blinders keep your attention forward, of course, but you are still able to make out plenty of the surrounding scenery as your team and cart move down the left-side road. Such as it is. The Aekoran frontier devolved into lichen farms, the land too dry to support much else, and thus wide, all but empty plains dominate either side of the road before you. The occasional moisture collector stands out amongst the brownish-red lichen, but otherwise you have little of interest to gaze upon. There is only your next high-step to truly consider, and the feeling of sweat building upon your body once more. Without trees or structures for cover you're utterly exposed. [[And you still have so long to go.->PonyCount3]]

The road split again ahead, explaining the need to turn. You move correctly, assisting 5-3 in a smart adjustment of your route. Nevertheless a fresh lash lands upon your flank, joining with several others to your fellow slaves in quick succession. "There is a tree ahead," Officer Karsis announces. "I want a canter for the next hour, so that we can reach it for your break." It's a double-edged command. The promise of rest is all you can think of, but as you increase your pace you can feel your legs protesting already. [[He's running you HARD today.->PonyCount5]]

The road split again ahead, explaining the need to turn. You move incorrectly however, breaking your smooth pace as your Lead nearly collides with you. 5-3 snorts in disapproval even as you're whipped for the transgression. Moments later a fresh lash lands upon your flank, joining with several others to your fellow slaves in quick succession. "There is a tree ahead," Officer Karsis announces. "I want a canter for the next hour, so that we can reach it for your break." It's a double-edged command. The promise of rest is all you can think of, but as you increase your pace you can feel your legs protesting already. [[He's running you HARD today.->PonyCount5]]

The space beside the road is gentle enough for your knees, the soil sandy, but your focus is elsewhere anyway. You continue to pant heavily as the ache in your thighs and calves burns freely. Other pains, like that in your shoulders or restrained arms, is secondary to the exquisite agony of a long march. Your only solace is the moment given to rest, even if it is beneath the sun above, and that your team shared the same. Compared to your tired, sweating, panting, utterly restrained form the two female Officers appear in your limited field of view beneath the shade of the tree. They're chatting idly, stretching a bit. One even yawns. [[As your superiors, they're allowed the luxury.->PonyRest2]] [[It's not fair!->PonyRest2]] [[Moan quietly.->PonyRest2]]

They ignore you, regardless. Officer Karsis could have instructed them to see about handling your team, but as he often did he instead appears to be doing it himself. As always he begins with your Lead, his shadow visible from your blindered position but little else as he kneels down. Presumably 5-3's gag is removed, you hear water dribbling onto the ground followed by quiet speech. How was she doing? How was the pace? Questions reserved for the Lead alone. Your turn follows soon after, the laminate-uniformed man kneeling before you with an apologetic smile. One hand holds a large water bottle while the other slides beneath your chin, merely lifting it to meet your gaze. The shadow of a beard cannot hide the kindness in his eyes. "Holding up, 5-6?" [[Nod your head.->PonyRestNod]] [[Shake your head.->PonyRestShake]] [[Moan.->PonyRestMoan]]

You snort quietly, but otherwise focus only on your brief rest. There was no point in arguing, or resisting. Your bondage is total, and your superior's will absolute. Trying to be anything more than a pony earned you only pain and discomfort. Better to submit, to be obedient. You're a slave, and a good one at that. Master Karsis certainly thinks so, as he appears suddenly in your view of view. "A harsh pace, I know, but you are doing well, team." Casually he pushes a finger into your mouth, his laminate glove lifting your lips. Already spread because of the bit lodged between them, he clearly wasn't seeking to enter your mouth. "A little lathered, I see. Hm." He moves to your side, addressing your Lead. "5-3, back on your feet. All of you. We still have another four hours or so to go." His command is met with several gagged moans, your own joining in, but as a team you do rise. The pony boots you wear, besides lengthening your stride and multiplying your pulling strength also serve to make you quite a bit taller-- you're a full head above the Master once you're back up on aching legs. He hardly seems to notice, besides the need to reach up, pulling one of your straps just a bit tighter. Your bit is forced even harder into the back of your mouth. "Load up," he directs the two women accompanying him. Soon after comes the crack of the whip, as expected. [[And you march wearily forward again.->PonyCount6]]

You shake, arguing as you best can by rattling your chains. Almost immediately you're met with a sharp pain across your rear, the strap that ran between your buttocks providing only the barest of defense. "Quiet 5-6," Karsis commands. There was no point in arguing, or resisting. Your bondage is total, and your superior's will absolute. Trying to be anything more than a pony earned you only pain and discomfort. Better to submit, to be obedient. The man that had just whipped you now appears suddenly in your field of view. "A harsh pace, I know, but you are doing well, team." Casually he pushes a finger into your mouth, his laminate glove lifting your lips. Already spread because of the bit lodged between them, he clearly wasn't seeking to enter your mouth. "A little lathered, I see. Hm." He moves to your side, addressing your Lead. "5-3, back on your feet. All of you. We still have another four hours or so to go." His command is met with several gagged moans, your own joining in, but as a team you do rise. The pony boots you wear, besides lengthening your stride and multiplying your pulling strength also serve to make you quite a bit taller-- you're a full head above the Master once you're back up on aching legs. He hardly seems to notice, besides the need to reach up, pulling one of your straps just a bit tighter. Your bit is forced even harder into the back of your mouth. "Load up," he directs the two women accompanying him. Soon after comes the crack of the whip, as expected. [[And you march wearily forward again.->PonyCount6]]

You shake, arguing as you best can by rattling your chains. Almost immediately you're met with a sharp pain across your rear, the strap that ran between your buttocks providing only the barest of defense. "Quiet 5-6. I'm surprised you even have the strength to be horny." Karsis notes. There was no point in arguing, or resisting. Your bondage is total, and your superior's will absolute. Trying to be anything more than a pony earned you only pain and discomfort. Better to submit, to be obedient. The man that had just whipped you now appears suddenly in your field of view. "A harsh pace, I know, but you are doing well, team." Casually he pushes a finger into your mouth, his laminate glove lifting your lips. Already spread because of the bit lodged between them, he clearly wasn't seeking to enter your mouth. "A little lathered, I see. Hm." He moves to your side, addressing your Lead. "5-3, back on your feet. All of you. We still have another four hours or so to go." His command is met with several gagged moans, your own joining in, but as a team you do rise. The pony boots you wear, besides lengthening your stride and multiplying your pulling strength also serve to make you quite a bit taller-- you're a full head above the Master once you're back up on aching legs. He hardly seems to notice, besides the need to reach up, pulling one of your straps just a bit tighter. Your bit is forced even harder into the back of your mouth. "Load up," he directs the two women accompanying him. Soon after comes the crack of the whip, as expected. [[And you march wearily forward again.->PonyCount6]]

Major Spoilers Follow! I encourage you to explore the game several times before reading through this. 1) Daemon's Deal: Progress to the scenes at Club Lush, and successfully reach the Deal. Accept the Daemon's offer. 2) Free and Clear: Reach the final Customs Enclave checkpoint without having been arrested, with non-negative credits, and do not be wearing the Serving Girl or Slave Suit outfits. 3) Anastasia’s Doll (Alone): At the Customs Enclave, pay Anastasia to be smuggled through customs as a counterfeit Academy doll. 4) Gas Mask Required: At the Customs Enclave, pay Anastasia for her key. Must be wearing the Slave Suit. 5) Trading Places: In the Customs Enclave, agree to Anastasia’s plan to swap places with a detainee. 6) Liz’s Doll (Alone): If you assisted the Liberty Society in helping the runaway slave early in the game, Elizabeth will assist you in being smuggled through customs as a counterfeit Academy doll. 7) Janeck’s Doll (Alone): If Elizabeth was arrested or the runaway quest not completed, Janeck can assist the player in being smuggled as a counterfeit doll for a fee. Janeck will not help if Elizabeth was turned in by the player. 8) Anastasia’s Doll (Together): At the Customs Enclave, pay Anastasia to be smuggled with Corinth through customs as counterfeit Academy dolls. Corinth must have been given a slave suit. 9) Gas Mask Required (Heartless): At the Customs Enclave, pay Anastasia for her key. Must be wearing the Slave Suit, and Corinth must be abandoned when she falls behind. 10) Liz’s Doll (Together): If you assisted the Liberty Society in helping the runaway slave early in the game, Elizabeth will assist you and Corinth in being smuggled through customs as a counterfeit Academy doll. 11) Janeck’s Doll (Together): If Elizabeth was arrested or the runaway quest not completed, Janeck can assist the player and Corinth in being smuggled as a counterfeit doll for a fee. Janeck will not help if Elizabeth was turned in by the player. 12) Sister Azaela: Join the Order of the Primrose by completing Sister Euphoria’s four trials. 13) Lush Serving Girl: At Club Lush, enter the backrooms and utilize the Wardrobe Device there to acquire a serving girl uniform. Then get arrested and accept the Judge’s offer to work for Club Lush. Alternatively, get sent to the Academy and get placed into the low independence, average value pool (1-in-3 chance). 14) Truant Officer: Get arrested, and then agree to Officer Nikaido’s offer to inform on others for a reduced sentence. Before reporting back to her, collect information on Elizabeth/Janeck and Officer Valroux. Then accept the offer to become a full Officer. 15) Governess: Get sent to the Academy, and be placed in the high independence, high value pool. (1-in-3 chance) 16) Soubrette: Get sent to the Academy, and be placed in the high independence, high value pool. (1-in-3 chance) 17) Consort: Get sent to the Academy, and be placed in the high independence, high value pool. (1-in-3 chance) 18) Courier: Get sent to the Academy, and be placed in the high independence, average value pool. (1-in-3 chance) 19) Catgirl: Get sent to the Academy, and be placed in the high independence, average value pool. (1-in-3 chance) 20) Concubine: Get sent to the Academy, and be placed in the high independence, average value pool. (1-in-3 chance) 21) Doll: Get sent to the Academy, and be placed in the low independence, high value pool. (1-in-3 chance) 22) Housewife: Get sent to the Academy, and be placed in the low independence, high value pool. (1-in-3 chance) 23) Ceremonial Honor Guard: Get sent to the Academy, and be placed in the low independence, high value pool. (1-in-3 chance) 24) Ponygirl: Get sent to the Academy, and be placed in the low independence, average value pool. (1-in-3 chance) 25) Daemon II: Get sent to the Academy, and be placed in the low independence, average value pool. (1-in-3 chance) 26) Corinth’s Slave: When given the change, buy Corinth a laminate outfit, but NOT the slave suit. Then speak with her at the Customs Enclave, and propose she purchase you at auction. When she agrees, either submit willingly to the Academy or get arrested and sent there. At the Academy, achieve average value (independence does not matter). Alternatively, if Corinth was purchased laminate but not the slave suit, and she is still free while the player is sent to the Academy, she will be added to both high and low independence, average value pools as a potential buyer. 27) Isabella’s Slave: Complete Isabella’s training scenes, and then accept when she offers you a collar. 28) Speed Runner: Choose to skip Club Lush and most of the following content completely, making for the Way Up as early as possible. [[Go back.->Cheat 2]]

“Good,” Euphoria concludes, pulling your leash taut once more. “I expect your best behavior. It would be completely in Master Petros’ right to punish you, or us both, if he so desired.” It is with that she steps forward, guiding you by the leash most of the way before release just as you approach Petros together. The chain runs down between your breasts, clinking against the triangular pendent that hangs from your neck. Euphoria’s intentions are clear as she uses her now freed hands to pull back the laminate of her cloak, revealing her hips fully as she spreads her legs. The reverence she performs is immaculate, and quite deep, pushing the limits of her corsetry as she bends over so very completely. [[Perform a reverence of your own.->NunPet3Rev]] [[Stand at attention beside your Sister.->NunPet3Fail]]

“I must ask for more,” Euphoria concludes, pulling your leash taut once more. “I expect your very best behavior. It would be completely in Master Petros’ right to punish you, or us both, if he so desired.” It is with that she steps forward, guiding you by the leash most of the way before release just as you approach Petros together. The chain runs down between your breasts, clinking against the triangular pendent that hangs from your neck. Euphoria’s intentions are clear as she uses her now freed hands to pull back the laminate of her cloak, revealing her hips fully as she spreads her legs. The reverence she performs is immaculate, and quite deep, pushing the limits of her corsetry as she bends over so very completely. [[Perform a reverence of your own.->NunPet3Rev]] [[Stand at attention beside your Sister.->NunPet3Fail]]

Joining Euphoria in reverence, you bend over. Lacking your Superior’s cloak you instead flare out your gloved hands, while ensuring your legs are properly spread. By the time you have matched her position your habit hangs down to either side of your head. A moment passes, then two, in silence. Your veil prevents you from seeing anything but the booted feet of the Master before you, as well as Euphoria’s heeled counterparts. Neither move. Eventually a full minute passes, and concern wells in your throat. Were you supposed to do something more? (set: $Strike to it + 1) [[Glance towards Euphoria.->NunPet4E]] [[Glance towards Petros.->NunPet4P]] [[Hold your reverence.->NunPet4]]

Euphoria holds her deep reverence as you remain standing, a decision that quickly earns a hiss from your superior. “Down, child. As I do, reverence—now!” Petros has clearly noticed you, but watches silently, arms still crossed as he had been upon approach. Even through his mask, obscuring all features, you can nevertheless almost *feel* his domineering gaze upon you. Unspoken disapproval pours forth. (set: $Strike to it - 2) [[Move quickly into a reverence!->NunPet3Rev]]

You glance to your left, looking for some manner of direction from Euphoria. She remains as before however, head bowed fully parallel with the ground, cloak flared in reverence. Even her habit is unmoving, obscuring her masked face. Yet movement does come from before you, as Master Petros’ feet final shift, the man evidently moving from his leaning position upon the pole. “Sister Euphoria,” he greets, an accent twisting each word ever so slightly. “A pleasure, as always. You may rise, as may your Sister. I would have an introduction. She is the new one you spoke of? The impatience of youth, I see.” You sense displeasure in that last portion. (set: $Strike to it - 1) [[Raise your head. ”Apologies, Master Petros…”->NunPet5A]] [[Remain in reverence.->NunPet5Rev]] [[Raise your head but remain silent.->NunPet5]]

You glance to the man before you, looking for some manner of direction from Petros. For a moment he remains as before, heavy boots crossed in the manner he leans against the pole. Your own shoes, stilettoed and sleek, could hardly be more different. Yet movement does come eventually, Master Petros’ feet finally shifting as he abandons the prior pose for a standing one. “Sister Euphoria,” he greets, an accent twisting each word ever so slightly. “A pleasure, as always. You may rise, as may your Sister. I would have an introduction. She is the new one you spoke of? The impatience of youth, I see.” You sense displeasure in that last portion. (set: $Strike to it - 1) [[Raise your head. ”Apologies, Master Petros…”->NunPet5A]] [[Remain in reverence.->NunPet5Rev]] [[Raise your head but remain silent.->NunPet5]]

Unwilling to risk Petros’ displeasure, you instead hold, trusting in Euphoria’s lead. It is trust well placed, as after a few more moments the scrape of Petros’ boots announce his shifting from leaning against the pole to a standing position. “Sister Euphoria,” he greets, an accent twisting each word ever so slightly. “A pleasure, as always. You may rise, as may your Sister. I would have an introduction. She is the new one you spoke of? Few sluts are as patient as this one.” (set: $Strike to it + 1) [[Raise your head. ”Thank you, Master Petros…”->NunPet5A]] [[Remain in reverence.->NunPet5Rev]] [[Raise your head but remain silent.->NunPet5]]

You and Euphoria both rise from reverence in unison, although the sharp look she directs your way indicates her intent moments before she addresses such directly. "I must humbly beg forgiveness for my Sister, Master. She *is* very new to her collar, and still learning the ways of our Order-- and much the same can be said of humility and submission as well." Turning to you, the much taller nun's disappointment is broadcast readily from the only exposed bit of her body-- the eyes, as deep red as ever. Even so, she directs her words solely at Petros. "If it would please you, Master, we are of course ready for whatever correction you deem necessary." Master Petros exhales sharply, the sound rasped through his mask. "I will allow her my indulgence, this *once.*" [[You sense that is as much mercy as Petros ever gave.->Nun6]]

The subtle sound of Euphoria's habit and robes shifting across her catsuit beneath announces her rise, but you remain where you are-- at least until your fellow Sister places a hand at the small of your back. "Rise," she commands, another gloved hand upon your shoulder moving you along. "Submission is our way, but overindulgence is a Sin unto itself." Finally pulling yourself back into a standing position, you note in Euphoria's eyes a hint of approval-- if not without the need for further guidance. You had done well enough, but the path you had taken to walk alongside her would remain treacherous indeed. [[Petros remains impossible to read, beneath his mask.->Nun6]]

You and Euphoria both rise from reverence in unison, the approving look she directs your way indicates her intent moments before she addresses such directly. "My Sister is young, and inexperienced, but she has much promise, Master." Turning to you, the much taller nun's motherly goodwill is broadcast readily from the only exposed bit of her body-- the eyes, as deep red as ever. [[Her habit glistens as she returns her attention to Petros.->Nun6]]

Leaning forward, you sniff at the food provided for you. Expectations meet reality head on, as little results from the effort. As odorless as it was bland, slave feed provided nutrition and not much else. Torei was too resource poor to waste much effort on something a large portion of the population subsisted upon. “Come now, Cici,” (if: $CorSlave is true)[Corinth](else:)[your Mistress’ Soubrette] says from above. “Don’t be picky, eat like the good kitten you are.” [[It is not like you have much choice.->CatEvent23]]

Mewling into your gag, you move across the floor as quickly as you can. Your Mistress and the man pause, both looking your way—only to then turn to each other, laughing a bit. “I think my Cici has taken a liking to you,” Alexandra muses, a laminate gloved finger held to her chin. “I met her briefly upon arrival,” the man replies. “And she is well trained, truly. Which means I suspect she likes anyone willing to play with her pussy.” That earns a second round of laughter from the pair, who then continue on their way. You’re left behind, bound and gagged, little more than a plaything to the pair. [[As her pet, that is your Mistress’ right.->CatEvent3B]] [[They have no right!->CatEvent3B]]

Mistress and Master pass from your view, and ability to follow. (if: $CorSlave is true)[Corinth](else:)[The soubrette] is left behind however, and in that moment you come to the same realization: with Mistress Royallis occupied, she had a precious few minutes of freedom. The break from her submissive pose is immediate, heels clacking as she approaches you. “Come here, Cici…” [[Run from her!->CatEvent3Run]] [[Go to her.->CatEvent3Go]]

You barely make it further than two steps before your collar sharply rebukes your decision, the shock freezing you as readily as any word from your Mistress. Glancing back you see the soubrette holding one of your controllers, the devices that gave others such control over you freely available around the house. (if: $CorSlave is true)[“Oh, I do hate using that on you Cici, but it is for your own good. Come, come, you will *like* this.” Corinth claims, moving to both knees beside you. “Mistress has strict rules against letting you cum, of course, but *anyone* can play with you as they see fit.”](else:)[“Silly kitten,” your Mistress’ soubrette laughs, giving you a second quick shock for good measure. “Come here, I won’t hurt you. Just the opposite in fact.” She kneels beside you. "Mistress has strict rules against letting you cum, of course, but *anyone* can play with you as they see fit.”] She reaches out, to pet you. [[Press into her touch.->CatEvent3Press]] [[Shy away from her touch.->CatEvent3Shy]]

Your decision to come to her seems well founded, as you notice the soubrette holding one of your controllers, the devices that gave others such control over you freely available around the house. You’ve narrowly avoided a shock from your collar, most likely. (if: $CorSlave is true)[“Come, come, you will *like* this.” Corinth claims, moving to both knees beside you. “Mistress has strict rules against letting you cum, of course, but *anyone* can play with you as they see fit.”](else:)[“Silly kitten,” your Mistress’ soubrette laughs, giving you a quick shock for good measure. “Come here, I won’t hurt you. Just the opposite in fact.” She kneels beside you. “Mistress has strict rules against letting you cum, of course, but *anyone* can play with you as they see fit.”] She reaches out, to pet you. [[Press into her touch.->CatEvent3Press]] [[Shy away from her touch.->CatEvent3Shy]]

Pressing into her hand, the soubrette rewards you with a long stroke from laminate ears down to the base of your tail, pressing her palm into the latter to grind the hidden plug into your rear. Your moan is all she needs to hear to recognize the effect such simple ministrations had on you. (if: $CorSlave is true)[“We’ve come a long way, haven’t we, Cici?” Corinth asks, adjusting her skirt carefully with her free hand. “I didn’t know… what to think, exactly, when you first bought me that slave suit so long ago… but something about Celeste Academy just felt *right*, and Mistress Alexandra… she’s strict, of course. And life is not easy. But she is wonderful Mistress… don’t you agree?” [[Look to her, and nod.->CatCorYes]] [[Look to her, and hiss.->CatCorNo]]](else:)[“I must admit,” the soubrette muses, “I did not think much of you when Mistress first brought you home. You’re the first offworlder she deigned to purchase, did you know that? I thought you would do poorly. But your just as horny and helpless as any Torean catgirl, with the added benefit that I can look at any tourist on the street and know they *could* be just like you, Cici.” The idea seems to please her. “Perhaps that is why Mistress Alexandra purchased you in the first place? Do you like her, Cici?” [[Look to her, and nod.->CatSubYes]] [[Look to her, and hiss.->CatSubNo]]]

You shy away, but the soubrette is faster, landing a long stroke from laminate ears down to the base of your tail, pressing her palm into the latter to grind the hidden plug into your rear. Your moan is all she needs to hear to recognize the effect such simple ministrations had on you. And to your shame, you remain near her. (if: $CorSlave is true)[“We’ve come a long way, haven’t we, Cici?” Corinth asks, adjusting her skirt carefully with her free hand. “I didn’t know… what to think, exactly, when you first bought me that slave suit so long ago… but something about Celeste Academy just felt *right*, and Mistress Alexandra… she’s strict, of course. And life is not easy. But she is wonderful Mistress… don’t you agree?” [[Look to her, and nod.->CatCorYes]] [[Look to her, and hiss.->CatCorNo]]](else:)[“I must admit,” the soubrette muses, “I did not think much of you when Mistress first brought you home. You’re the first offworlder she deigned to purchase, did you know that? I thought you would do poorly. But your just as horny and helpless as any Torean catgirl, with the added benefit that I can look at any tourist on the street and know they *could* be just like you, Cici.” The idea seems to please her. “Perhaps that is why Mistress Alexandra purchased you in the first place? Do you like her, Cici?” [[Look to her, and nod.->CatSubYes]] [[Look to her, and hiss.->CatSubNo]]]

“Of course you do,” Corinth giggles, flicking one of your ears playfully. “Just *look* at you. The uniform you’re made to wear… well it certainly is dehumanizing, isn’t it? Sometimes I forget you’re not the playful little kitty we’re all expected to treat you like… but I suspect you forget too, don’t you?” [[Purr in agreement.->CatCor2Yes]] [[Flick your hips angrily in disagreement.->CatCor2No]]

“Hush now,” Corinth giggles, flicking one of your ears playfully. “It’s not like you really have a choice, do you? Just *look* at you. The uniform you’re made to wear… well it certainly is dehumanizing, isn’t it? Sometimes I forget you’re not the playful little kitty we’re all expected to treat you like… but I suspect you forget too, don’t you?” [[Purr in agreement.->CatCor2Yes]] [[Flick your hips angrily in disagreement.->CatCor2No]]

“Of course you do,” the soubrette laughs, shocking you with a press of a button just because she could. “Just *look* at you. In full laminate, crawling around just begging with your wet cunt… you like what has been made of you, don’t you?” [[Purr in agreement.->CatSub2Yes]] [[Flick your hips angrily in disagreement.->CatSub2No]]

“Oh shush,” the soubrette commands, shocking you with a press of a button. “It’s not like you really have a choice, do you? Just *look* at you. In full laminate, crawling around just begging with your wet cunt… you like what has been made of you, don’t you?” [[Purr in agreement.->CatSub2Yes]] [[Flick your hips angrily in disagreement.->CatSub2No]]

“I just *knew* you liked it,” Corinth beams. Reaching beneath you, she fondles one of your encapsulated breasts readily. You lean back in response, moving from paws and knees to a position on your haunches. In short order Corinth has guided you onto your back, allowing her to slide a gloved hand easily between your legs. Stroking you there is playing with fire, but the desire only burns within you. “No one back home could understand what we have,” she murmurs, watching your eyes—the only exposed portion of your otherwise laminated body. “Most would be horrified to see us collared and subjected to all this… *but they don’t know what they’re missing, do they?*” She strokes between your legs again, the muscles of your thighs begging for the release she teased. (if: $Toy is true)[“I know you’ve caught your toy,” she continues. “And I know it let you cum. *Lucky.* But… do you want to again? I could help you, if you wanted…?”](if: $Toy is false)[“I know you still haven’t caught your toy,” she continues, “and I know it will let you cum if you do. That’s why you’re so horny, isn’t it Cici? So… I could help you, make you cum right now, if you wanted…?”] [[“Mmmgh!” Yes!->CorPropYes]] [[Shake your head no.->CorPropNo]]

Your flick your hips, moving your tail in a sharp display of disapproval—and yet proving Corinth’s point, your response so entirely feline and yet you had hardly noticed. Reaching beneath you, she fondles one of your encapsulated breasts readily. You lean back in response, moving from paws and knees to a position on your haunches. In short order Corinth has guided you onto your back, allowing her to slide a gloved hand easily between your legs. Stroking you there is playing with fire, but the desire only burns within you. “No one back home could understand what we have,” she murmurs, watching your eyes—the only exposed portion of your otherwise laminated body. “Most would be horrified to see us collared and subjected to all this… *but they don’t know what they’re missing, do they?*” She strokes between your legs again, the muscles of your thighs begging for the release she teased. (if: $Toy is true)[“I know you’ve caught your toy,” she continues. “And I know it let you cum. *Lucky.* But… do you want to again? I could help you, if you wanted…?”](if: $Toy is false)[“I know you still haven’t caught your toy,” she continues, “and I know it will let you cum if you do. That’s why you’re so horny, isn’t it Cici? So… I could help you, make you cum right now, if you wanted…?”] [[“Mmmgh!” Yes!->CorPropYes]] [[Shake your head no.->CorPropNo]]

“That’s what I thought,” the soubrette announces triumphantly. Your petting ceases however as she regards you for a long moment, then tips her head, her golden hair and the maid’s headband there unmoving. “Tell you what, Cici: Mistress had me prepare something for you, today. In her bedroom. I’ll tell you what it is… but I’ll leash you to your cage for the rest of the day. Mistress Alexandra wouldn’t be particularly happy with me… but we soubrettes are known for being naughty…" She smiles. “What do you say?” [[Take her offer.->CatSubOffer]] [[Refuse her offer.->CatSubRej]]

“Liar,” the soubrette concludes immediately, shocking you for good measure. Your petting ceases afterward as she regards you for a long moment, then tips her head, her golden hair and the maid’s headband there unmoving. “Tell you what, Cici: Mistress had me prepare something for you, today. In her bedroom. I’ll tell you what it is… but I’ll leash you to your cage for the rest of the day. Mistress Alexandra wouldn’t be particularly happy with me… but we soubrettes are known for being naughty…” She smiles. “What do you say?” [[Take her offer.->CatSubOffer]] [[Refuse her offer.->CatSubRej]]

Corinth had offered you something as simple as sexual relief, and you *beg* for it openly. Pulling your paws back to frame your chest, further down you spread your restrained legs, giving total access to the meeting of your thighs. It’s there that Corinth looks, her smiling widening… Just before your collar shocks you, *hard.* You bite down on your hidden ring gag, back arching in reflex as the pain courses through you. The experience is not long, but it is intense indeed. When it relents you look up, only to find Corinth already standing. “Sorry, Cici… but you should know I’m Mistress’ girl first, and not yours. When I tell her you tried to get me to let you cum, I know she will reward me… and punish you. But you deserve it, don’t you? You *know* the rules.” Your whine suggests how much you cared for the rules in that moment, but Corinth is already stepping away. She had her duties to return to, after all. (if: $Vase is true and $VaseTalk is false)[[[Yet before she goes, Corinth notices the fallen vase.->VaseEvent]]](else:)[[[What would Mistress do?->CatHub]]]

“Kamn,” she curses quietly, rising back to the full height you could never reach anymore. “I was hoping… you would need a lesson on Mistress’ rules, and that I could… ah, nevermind.” Her smile returns as she gives a lazy wave, leaving you to move back onto your paws and knees by yourself. “I need to be getting back to my duties. Take care, Cici!” (if: $Vase is true and $VaseTalk is false)[[[Yet before she goes, Corinth notices the fallen vase.->VaseEvent]]](else:)[[[Did Corinth just try to trick you?->CatHub]]]

“Come then, leash first,” she commands, rising to her feet as you follow behind. Approaching your cage she selects a length of laminate cord from one of the nearby shelves, upon which your supplies were generally stored. The cord is short, only a few feet long. One end is snapped to your cage side, the other your collar. It hangs down, between your breasts, as she rises and brushes her hands together. “There. Now, my secret? The Mistress had me setup a fucking machine, to be used if you caught your little toy… or if proved particularly naughty, as I understood it.” (if: $Toy is false)[Her smile turns predatory. “That means, of course… that you will never get that toy, leashed as you are. Isn’t that amusing?” She laughs openly as you tug against the cord, suddenly realizing the truth in her statement: your options for what remained of the day had been reduced substantially. “What is that saying of your people?” The soubrette asks. “Curiosity… killed the cat? You’re quite fine of course, but now you’ll certainly not be cumming tonight!”](else:)[Her smile widens. “Lucky you, though… you’ve caught your toy already.” She places her hands on her hips as you realize suddenly the truth in her statement: your options for what remained of the day had been reduced substantially. “Will you still get to cum, however?” The soubrette asks. “I’m not sure.”] And with that she leaves, while you tug helplessly against your new leash. (set: $SubBetray to true) (if: $Vase is true and $VaseTalk is false)[[[Yet before she goes, the soubrette notices the fallen vase.->VaseEvent]]](else:)[[[Never trust a soubrette!->CatHub]]]

“No fun,” the soubrette frowns, shocking you once more as she stands. Your collar jingles merrily as you wriggle, paws batting helplessly against the red laminate collar with which she tortured you. She’s not cruel however, eventually letting you be as she stalks off. Whatever game she had been playing, you’ve missed out on it. (if: $Vase is true and $VaseTalk is false)[[[Yet before she goes, the soubrette notices the fallen vase.->VaseEvent]]](else:)[[[Never trust a soubrette!->CatHub]]]

Your Mistress townhouse was not large, property prices in downtown Aekora were far too high, but being forced to crawl it always made it *seem* larger. Following along on your leash, you’re lead from the living room that served as your play area into the dining room. Clean white walls and yellow accent walls are accentuated by modern décor, reflecting Aekora’s position as a mountainous Ringdom as much as Mistress Alexandra’s personal tastes. Ascending the stairs that led up into the Mistress’ personal quarters, your fellow slave pauses at a closed door. “Mistress...? I have Cici, as requested.” Alexandra’s response is immediate. “You may enter.” [[The door opens, having interpreted the voice command.->CatFinal3]]

(if: $Vase is true or $CorBetray is true)[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/dvfNmk3.png" width="35%" height="35%"> Seated primly upon her bed, your Mistress does not look particularly happy as you enter into her room.](else:)[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/eW6TCS3.png" width="35%" height="35%"> Seated primly upon her bed, your Mistress is working at the glass device in her hands. Nevertheless you detect a sly smile upon her lips, one that widens as she looks up upon your entrance.] The bedroom itself is as well appointed as any other section of the Royallis’ household, the stylings modern and sleek. Like any good Torean-born household, the bed itself is the focal point, large in size and featuring numerous steel fasteners along its heavy frame and canopy. Those could be used for all manner of restraints, including full suspension, but for now they sit empty. The base of the bed concerns you more however, as you look upon your secondary cage—similar in most functions to the one you woke up in, but this one was retained for special uses. Usually rewards... or punishments, as the device occupying most of it now suggests. (if: $SubBetray is true)[As the soubrette had teased,](else:)[Rewards had been promised, but even you’re surprised by] the heavy pneumatic device slotted into the rear of the cage, mechanical and imposing. A central piston mounts a laminate phallus, large and extensively ribbed and it glistens, apparently already lubed for use. The mere sight of it makes your knees weak, especially once you notice the restraints added to the bottom of the cage. Four cuffs, spaced for wrists and ankles, intended to pin down the slave in the perfect position to allow the pneumatic cock to work at its intended purpose. “We need to discuss your day,” your Mistress speaks, breaking your stare as you look up to her. [[Did you do well?->CatFinal4]]

(if: $CorSlave is true)[Corinth](else:)[Your accompanying soubrette] takes a submissive pose to the side of the door as she closes it behind you. Mistress Alexandra meanwhile regards you intently, remaining seated with one leg crossed over the other. Eventually she speaks. (if: $CorBetray is true)[“You know that I love you, Cici. As my slave and pet, I do. But you *also* know that I have rules, ones you must abide. The most prominent of them is that I alone hold the right to decide when you cum, which I demand of all my slaves. And Corinth informs me that you sought climax without my leave. I hope you understand why you must be corrected for this, above all else.” [[“Mmmmgh!” It wasn’t you!->CorBetrayNo]] [[“Mmmgh! Mmgh!” Apologize!->CorBetrayApolo]] [[Take a submissive pose. She is right.->CorBetraySub]]](else-if: $Vase is true)[“You know that I love you, Cici. As my slave and pet, I do. But you *also* know what you did today, don’t you? Vases can be replaced, and so shall the one broke. Opportunities for corrective punishment… I would be remiss if I did not make sure you learned your lesson, would I not?” [[“Mmmmgh!” It wasn’t you!->VaseNo]] [[“Mmmgh! Mmgh!” Apologize!->VaseApolo]] [[Take a submissive pose. She is right.->VaseSub]]](else-if: $Toy is true)[“I have been told you have done *wonderfully*, Cici! Not only did you behave, you managed to catch your new toy. I intended no matter how you managed to keep you with me tonight, in your cage here, but now… now you will be rewarded further. I’m certain you see *your* cock, hm?” Her smile is enthusiastic. [[“Mmmgh!” Yes!->GoodCatYes]] [[Press up against her leg.->GoodCatLeg]]](else:)[“Your new toy reports to me that it eluded you today, and that you did not manage to catch it. Thus you have missed out on its immediate reward… and I believe you will need some incentive to try harder tomorrow, no? Either way, you did behave yourself otherwise—so at the very least I need not punish you. But I did intend for you to spent the night with me, or at least in your cage… which you will still do. I’m certain you see *your* cock, Cici?” [[“Mmmgh!” Yes!->MedCatYes]] [[Press up against her leg.->MedCatLeg]]]

Your twin gags, ring and panel, reduce your words to little more than mewled complaints. To your side and a bit further back Corinth keeps a straight face, but your Mistress surprises you both with her judgement. “I know Corinth put you up to it,” Alexandra sighs. “Of course I checked the house’s cameras when your transgression was reported. But you were given a choice, Cici. And you chose to beg for an unauthorized climax anyway. I shall have to punish you both.” She stands, Corinth having bowed her head submissively even as she fights to hold back a tight smile. Soubrettes sometimes intentionally sought out punishments, testing their owners. It was part of their training. Still—she had a punishment coming too! “Corinth, you will lock my kitten into place as we discussed. Then I will secure you for the evening. Listening to you *both* moan tonight shall make it a very interesting evening, I do think.” Your friend abides immediately, unhooking your leash and then opening the cage door. The jackhammer like cock recedes to the back of the cage automatically. “In you go, Cici,” she says quietly. “Line up with the restraints.” [[Beg for mercy!->CorBetrayMercy]] [[Enter and submit.->PunishEnter]]

Your twin gags, ring and panel, reduce your words to little more than mewled complaints. To your side and a bit further back Corinth keeps a straight face, but your Mistress surprises you both with her judgement. “Begging will do nothing, Cici. Even if I know Corinth put you up to it,” Alexandra sighs. “Of course I checked the house’s cameras when your transgression was reported. But you were given a choice, Cici. And you chose to beg for an unauthorized climax anyway. I shall have to punish you both.” She stands, Corinth having bowed her head submissively even as she fights to hold back a tight smile. Soubrettes sometimes intentionally sought out punishments, testing their owners. It was part of their training. Still—she had a punishment coming too! “Corinth, you will lock my kitten into place as we discussed. Then I will secure you for the evening. Listening to you *both* moan tonight shall make it a very interesting evening, I do think.” Your friend abides immediately, unhooking your leash and then opening the cage door. The jackhammer like cock recedes to the back of the cage automatically. “In you go, Cici,” she says quietly. “Line up with the restraints.” [[Beg for mercy!->CorBetrayMercy]] [[Enter and submit.->PunishEnter]]

You do not contest your fate, instead pressing your masked face to the floor. Behind you push your rear up, spreading your legs in a submissive posture reserved for the heavily bound or pets—and you are both. Above you, your Mistress coos quietly. “Good girl, Cici. But I do know Corinth put you up to it,” Alexandra sighs. “Of course I checked the house’s cameras when your transgression was reported. But you were given a choice, Cici. And you chose to beg for an unauthorized climax anyway. I shall have to punish you both.” She stands, Corinth having bowed her head submissively even as she fights to hold back a tight smile. Soubrettes sometimes intentionally sought out punishments, testing their owners. It was part of their training. Still—she had a punishment coming too! “Corinth, you will lock my kitten into place as we discussed. Then I will secure you for the evening. Listening to you *both* moan tonight shall make it a very interesting evening, I do think.” Your friend abides immediately, unhooking your leash and then opening the cage door. The jackhammer like cock recedes to the back of the cage automatically. “In you go, Cici,” she says quietly. “Line up with the restraints.” [[Beg for mercy!->CorBetrayMercy]] [[Enter and submit.->PunishEnter]]

Your twin gags, ring and panel, reduce your words to little more than mewled complaints. To your side and a bit further back (if: $CorSlave is true)[Corinth](else:)[the Soubrette] sighs quietly. “You will *not* deny it,” Alexandra says, sternly. “Of course I checked the house’s cameras when your transgression was reported. There is not debating this, and it is for your own best interest, Cici. I would be a poor Mistress if I did not punish you when you deserve it, wouldn’t I?” She stands, (if: $CorSlave is true)[Corinth](else:)[the Soubrette] having bowed her head submissively even as she fights to hold back a tight smile. Soubrettes sometimes intentionally sought out punishments, testing their owners. It was part of their training. Their like took a similar joy in seeing others corrected as well. “(if: $CorSlave is true)[Corinth](else:)[My soubrette], you will lock my kitten into place as we discussed. You meanwhile I shall take to my bed, tonight. Listening to you *both* moan shall make it a very interesting evening, I do think.” The slave in question reacts immediately, unhooking your leash and then opening the cage door. The jackhammer like cock recedes to the back of the cage automatically. “In you go, Cici,” she says quietly. “Line up with the restraints.” [[Beg for mercy!->CorBetrayMercy]] [[Enter and submit.->PunishEnter]]

Your twin gags, ring and panel, reduce your words to little more than mewled complaints. To your side and a bit further back (if: $CorSlave is true)[Corinth](else:)[the Soubrette] sighs quietly. “I would rather you not beg,” Alexandra notes. “Not when you deserve it. Of course I checked the house’s cameras when your transgression was reported. There is no debating this, and it is for your own best interest, Cici. I would be a poor Mistress if I did not punish you when you deserve it, wouldn’t I?” She stands, (if: $CorSlave is true)[Corinth](else:)[the Soubrette] having bowed her head submissively even as she fights to hold back a tight smile. Soubrettes sometimes intentionally sought out punishments, testing their owners. It was part of their training. Their like took a similar joy in seeing others corrected as well. “(if: $CorSlave is true)[Corinth](else:)[My soubrette], you will lock my kitten into place as we discussed. You meanwhile I shall take to my bed, tonight. Listening to you *both* moan shall make it a very interesting evening, I do think.” The slave in question abides immediately, unhooking your leash and then opening the cage door. The jackhammer like cock recedes to the back of the cage automatically. “In you go, Cici,” she says quietly. “Line up with the restraints.” [[Beg for mercy!->CorBetrayMercy]] [[Enter and submit.->PunishEnter]]

You do not contest your fate, instead pressing your masked face to the floor. Behind you push your rear up, spreading your legs in a submissive posture reserved for the heavily bound or pets—and you are both. Above you, your Mistress coos quietly. “Good girl, Cici. This *is* for your best interest. I would be a poor Mistress if I did not punish you when you deserve it, wouldn’t I?” She stands, (if: $CorSlave is true)[Corinth](else:)[the Soubrette] having bowed her head submissively even as she fights to hold back a tight smile. Soubrettes sometimes intentionally sought out punishments, testing their owners. It was part of their training. Their like took a similar joy in seeing others corrected as well. “(if: $CorSlave is true)[Corinth](else:)[My soubrette], you will lock my kitten into place as we discussed. You meanwhile I shall take to my bed, tonight. Listening to you *both* moan shall make it a very interesting evening, I do think.” The slave in question abides immediately, unhooking your leash and then opening the cage door. The jackhammer like cock recedes to the back of the cage automatically. “In you go, Cici,” she says quietly. “Line up with the restraints.” [[Beg for mercy!->CorBetrayMercy]] [[Enter and submit.->PunishEnter]]

Your twin gags, ring and panel, reduce your words to little more than mewled purrs. Still the context is clear as your Mistress nods. “Of course you did. Well, no point in delaying. That is to be your reward, a full night being claimed by that cock. Let us get you in place.” She stands, (if: $CorSlave is true)[Corinth](else:)[the Soubrette] having bowed her head submissively even as she fights to hold back a tight smile. “(if: $CorSlave is true)[Corinth](else:)[My soubrette], you will lock my kitten into place as we discussed. You meanwhile I shall take to my bed, tonight. Listening to you *both* moan shall make it a very interesting evening, I do think.” The slave in question abides immediately, unhooking your leash and then opening the cage door. The jackhammer like cock recedes to the back of the cage automatically. “In you go, Cici,” she says quietly. “Line up with the restraints.” [[Hesitate.->GoodCatHes]] [[Enter immediately!->GoodCatRedy]]

You press up against your Mistress’ leg, Alexandra laughing as she pets you between the laminate ears. “I know, I know Cici! You deserve it! That cock is to be your reward, a full night being claimed by it. Let us get you in place.” She stands, (if: $CorSlave is true)[Corinth](else:)[the Soubrette] having bowed her head submissively even as she fights to hold back a tight smile. “(if: $CorSlave is true)[Corinth](else:)[My soubrette], you will lock my kitten into place as we discussed. You meanwhile I shall take to my bed, tonight. Listening to you *both* moan shall make it a very interesting evening, I do think.” The slave in question abides immediately, unhooking your leash and then opening the cage door. The jackhammer like cock recedes to the back of the cage automatically. “In you go, Cici,” she says quietly. “Line up with the restraints.” [[Hesitate.->GoodCatHes]] [[Enter immediately!->GoodCatRedy]]

Your twin gags, ring and panel, reduce your words to little more than mewled purrs. Still the context is clear as your Mistress nods. “Of course you did. Well, no point in delaying. That is to be your reward, a full night being claimed by that cock. Let us get you in place.” She stands, (if: $CorSlave is true)[Corinth](else:)[the Soubrette] having bowed her head submissively even as she fights to hold back a tight smile. “(if: $CorSlave is true)[Corinth](else:)[My soubrette], you will lock my kitten into place as we discussed. You meanwhile I shall take to my bed, tonight. Listening to you *both* moan shall make it a very interesting evening, I do think.” The slave in question abides immediately, unhooking your leash and then opening the cage door. The jackhammer like cock recedes to the back of the cage automatically. “In you go, Cici,” she says quietly. “Line up with the restraints, *facing the cock.*” [[Facing it?->MedCatHes]] [[Enter immediately!->MedCatRedy]]

You press up against your Mistress’ leg, Alexandra laughing as she pets you between the laminate ears. “Eager for my affection? You have it, Cici. Always. But you must try harder next time. Let us get you in place.” She stands, (if: $CorSlave is true)[Corinth](else:)[the Soubrette] having bowed her head submissively even as she fights to hold back a tight smile. “(if: $CorSlave is true)[Corinth](else:)[My soubrette], you will lock my kitten into place as we discussed. You meanwhile I shall take to my bed, tonight. Listening to you *both* moan shall make it a very interesting evening, I do think.” The slave in question abides immediately, unhooking your leash and then opening the cage door. The jackhammer like cock recedes to the back of the cage automatically. “In you go, Cici,” she says quietly. “Line up with the restraints, *facing the cock.*” [[Facing it?->MedCatHes]] [[Enter immediately!->MedCatRedy]]

You make one last attempt for mercy. Turning to Alexandra, you moan and plead, pressing up against her as you fight your bondage—wishing you could do more. Your Mistress is not immune to your charms, in fact it almost seems to sadden her. “Do not make this harder than it need be,” she sighs, pushing you away and back towards the cage. “You *must* be taught this lesson. And taught you are. Guided into the cage you do eventually take your position, as indicated. Heavy laminate cuffs secure your elbows and calves to the floor, effectively enforcing a position that puts you on all fours. When the cage door is closed your nose is perhaps an inch away, but it is the device behind that has your full attention. Alexandra herself lines up the machine, just as she reaches out to unlock the zipper between your legs. The position exposes your slit easily, your rear above still entertaining the plug of your tail. Slowly the fucking machine’s cock is extended, slipping past your lips and entering bit by bit. (if: $Clean is true)[“I see you kept yourself clean,” your Mistress notes, even as more of the cock slides into you. “Unfortunately I am certain you will not be clean come morning.”](else:)[“I see you did not clean yourself after catching your toy,” your Mistress notes, even as more of the cock slides into you. “Normally worthy of further correction… but you will be a mess come morning anyway.”] [[“Mmmmmmmmmgh…”->CatPunish]]

“Good girl,” Alexandra continues to reinforce your submission, rewarding it with words if not mercy. “This is where you belong, isn’t it?” Guided into the cage you do eventually take your position, as indicated. Heavy laminate cuffs secure your elbows and calves to the floor, effectively enforcing a position that puts you on all fours. When the cage door is closed your nose is perhaps an inch away, but it is the device behind that has your full attention. Alexandra herself lines up the machine, just as she reaches out to unlock the zipper between your legs. The position exposes your slit easily, your rear above still entertaining the plug of your tail. Slowly the fucking machine’s cock is extended, slipping past your lips and entering bit by bit. (if: $Clean is true)[“I see you kept yourself clean,” your Mistress notes, even as more of the cock slides into you. “Unfortunately I am certain you will not be clean come morning.”](else:)[“I see you did not clean yourself after catching your toy,” your Mistress notes, even as more of the cock slides into you. “Normally worthy of further correction… but you will be a mess come morning anyway.”] [[“Mmmmmmmmmgh…”->CatPunish]]

"It is alright," your Mistress says, having noted your concern. “Believe me—this will be a night you *never* forget. And you’ve earned every minute of it.” It is enough to push you forward, towards your promised fate. Guided into the cage you do eventually take your position, as indicated. Heavy laminate cuffs secure your elbows and calves to the floor, effectively enforcing a position that puts you on all fours. When the cage door is closed your nose is perhaps an inch away, but it is the device behind that has your full attention. Alexandra herself lines up the machine, just as she reaches out to unlock the zipper between your legs. The position exposes your slit easily, your rear above still entertaining the plug of your tail. Slowly the fucking machine’s cock is extended, slipping past your lips and entering bit by bit. (if: $Clean is true)[“I see you kept yourself clean,” your Mistress notes, even as more of the cock slides into you. “Unfortunately I am certain you will not be clean come morning. Isn’t *that* exciting?”](else:)[“I see you did not clean yourself after catching your toy,” your Mistress notes, even as more of the cock slides into you. “Normally worthy of correction… but you will be a mess come morning anyway. Isn’t *that* exciting?”] [[“Mmmmmmmmmgh…”->CatGood]]

"Very good Cici," your Mistress says, as you submit immediately. “Believe me—this will be a night you *never* forget. And you’ve earned every minute of it.” It is enough to push you forward, towards your promised fate. Guided into the cage you do eventually take your position, as indicated. Heavy laminate cuffs secure your elbows and calves to the floor, effectively enforcing a position that puts you on all fours. When the cage door is closed your nose is perhaps an inch away, but it is the device behind that has your full attention. Alexandra herself lines up the machine, just as she reaches out to unlock the zipper between your legs. The position exposes your slit easily, your rear above still entertaining the plug of your tail. Slowly the fucking machine’s cock is extended, slipping past your lips and entering bit by bit. (if: $Clean is true)[“I see you kept yourself clean,” your Mistress notes, even as more of the cock slides into you. “Unfortunately I am certain you will not be clean come morning. Isn’t *that* exciting?”](else:)[“I see you did not clean yourself after catching your toy,” your Mistress notes, even as more of the cock slides into you. “Normally worthy of correction… but you will be a mess come morning anyway. Isn’t *that* exciting?”] [[“Mmmmmmmmmgh…”->CatGood]]

"It is alright," your Mistress says, having noted your concern. “Remember, you’re not being punished. I would use that cock on your pussy, if that were the case.” It is enough to push you forward, towards your promised fate. Guided into the cage you do eventually take your position, as indicated. Heavy laminate cuffs secure your elbows and calves to the floor, effectively enforcing a position that puts you on all fours—facing the cock itself. Alexandra herself lines up the machine, just as she reaches out to remove your outward gag. The laminate panel hangs from your cheek as your ring gag is exposed, through which she slots the cock. It fits perfectly, sliding in inch by inch. (if: $Clean is true)[“I see you kept yourself clean,” your Mistress notes, even as more of the cock slides into your mouth. “Very good. I will be keep your rear zipper closed, so you shouldn’t make too much of a mess besides the drool.”](else:)[“I see you did not clean yourself after catching your toy,” your Mistress notes, even as more of the cock slides into you. “Normally worthy of correction… but you will be a bit of a mess come morning anyway, I suppose.”] [[“Mmmmmmmmmgh…”->CatMedium]]

"Very good, Cici,” your Mistress says, having noted your immediate submission. “Remember, you’re not being punished. I would use that cock on your pussy, if that were the case.” It is enough to push you forward, towards your promised fate. Guided into the cage you do eventually take your position, as indicated. Heavy laminate cuffs secure your elbows and calves to the floor, effectively enforcing a position that puts you on all fours—facing the cock itself. Alexandra herself lines up the machine, just as she reaches out to remove your outward gag. The laminate panel hangs from your cheek as your ring gag is exposed, through which she slots the cock. It fits perfectly, sliding in inch by inch. (if: $Clean is true)[“I see you kept yourself clean,” your Mistress notes, even as more of the cock slides into your mouth. “Very good. I will be keep your rear zipper closed, so you shouldn’t make too much of a mess besides the drool.”](else:)[“I see you did not clean yourself after catching your toy,” your Mistress notes, even as more of the cock slides into you. “Normally worthy of correction… but you will be a bit of a mess come morning anyway, I suppose.”] [[“Mmmmmmmmmgh…”->CatMedium]]

It takes a bit more fiddling, and twice more you moan lewdly, but eventually the piston-mounted cock hilts itself within you. “I must test it, to ensure you can take it all night,” Alexandra explains, as always putting your safety—if not comfort or feelings—first. The result is the sweet, heady sensation of the cock pulling out from you. Once only the tip remains inside it suddenly plunges in again, and you nearly cum right there. “Your collar and rainbow implants will be engaged… now,” your Mistress notes, standing back up to circle around to your front again. “They are set to strict denial and synced with the machine. It will fuck you until the very brink of orgasm… and then deny you. Over and over… but that is not all.” Crossing to the dresser directly before you, she pulls from it a small spray bottle. One you know, twin reactions welling within you at the sight of it: fear and a perverse, intense desire. Torean catnip. [[You struggle, moaning.->CatPunish2]]

Pulling against your restraints does little, the bondage as heavy as it is total. Only your head can move with some freedom, but you cannot avoid when your Mistress holds the bottle before the cage and sprays you—directly in the face. The effect is nearly immediate. Torean slave feed may have been uniform, consistent, but it was common practice to introduce additives catered to each slave. To yours a strong pheromone was added, one that induced intense and inescapable ecstasy. But it was dormant, merely lurking in your bloodstream until activated… by that small spray bottle. You moan immediately, wriggling in your restraints as your legs try to close, to come together. But you cannot move, cannot reach your suddenly burning cunt, cannot shove the cock any further into your slickened hole. Any sense of dignity that remained to you, anything that resemble rational thought or effort leaves you. In that short moment you’re reduced to an animal in intense heat, your own cunt the very center of your universe. And you cannot do anything but moan, brows upturned, biting against your gag in total and inexorable helplessness. [[“MMMMMMMGHHHHHH!!!”->CatPunish3]]

“I know, Cici, I know…” the words barely break through the haze of your lust, bleary eyes blinking as you recognize your Mistress before you. Her hand pats your cheek, the sheer sensation of another’s touch maddening. “I hope this will be a night you never forget…” She stands, and behind you the machine engages. The cock buried within you pulls out, inch by enraptured inch. Your horomone-addled body can hardly track it, synapses burn the feeling into one elongated experience—that ends with a **bang** as the cock is suddenly drilled into you. You would have cummed there, immediately and with force, but your collar and rainbow array intervene. The first shocks you sharply, the latter temporarily numbing your sensual nerves. Instead of rocketing off the cliff of climax you’re left, damningly, teetering on the edge before sliding back down. A moan slips your lips, utterly unbidden, as your very womb aches for that orgasm you had been denied. Yet you’ve hardly come to terms with the betrayal of your own body before it happens again, the cock shifting, your cunt dripping with ecstatic agony—only to be denied again. And again, and again… “Remember,” Alexandra says, somewhere atop her bed. She must be securing her other slave. “Remember that I love you, Cici.” [[As your cock slams home again, you know you love her too. Who else can release you… eventually?->Ending]]

It takes a bit more fiddling, and twice more you moan lewdly, but eventually the piston-mounted cock hilts itself within you. “I must test it, to ensure you can take it all night,” Alexandra explains, as always putting your safety—if not comfort or feelings—first. The result is the sweet, heady sensation of the cock pulling out from you. Once only the tip remains inside it suddenly plunges in again, and you nearly cum right there. “Your collar and rainbow implants will be disengaged,” your Mistress notes, standing back up to circle around to your front again. “They are set to strict denial, of course… but not tonight. Tonight you may cum as many times as you like, Cici. My treat. Ah, but speaking of treats...” Crossing to the dresser directly before you, she pulls from it a small spray bottle. One you know, twin reactions welling within you at the sight of it: fear and a perverse, intense desire. Torean catnip. [[You struggle, moaning.->CatGood2]]

“I know, Cici, I know…” the words barely break through the haze of your lust, bleary eyes blinking as you recognize your Mistress before you. Her hand pats your cheek, the sheer sensation of another’s touch maddening. “I hope this will be a night you never forget…” She stands, and behind you the machine engages. The cock buried within you pulls out, inch by enraptured inch. Your horomone-addled body can hardly track it, synapses burn the feeling into one elongated experience—that ends with a **bang** as the cock is suddenly drilled into you. You cum there, *hard*. An orgasmic moan slips your gags as your abdomen aches, the muscles of your womanhood suckling on the cock within you as the ecstasy blasts through you, wave after wave. You had reached climax, then rocketed off it—the phallus having paused fully hilted inside as you quiver in glorious rapture. Yet as soon as the afterglow hits, finding you panting in your bondage, the cock begins again. You don’t think it possible, but the pheromones and your Torean libedo rise immediately to the challenge. How many times will you cum tonight? Forty times? A hundred? “Remember,” Alexandra says, somewhere atop her bed. She must be securing her other slave. “Remember that I love you, Cici.” [[As your cock slams home again, you know you love her too. Who else could make you feel this way?->Ending]]

It takes a bit more fiddling, and twice more you moan lewdly, but eventually the piston-mounted cock hilts itself within your waiting mouth. “You will be pleasing the cock tonight, *all night*,” your Mistress explains. “So that come morning, you have the proper motivation to seek out your toy. If you manage to catch it, perhaps tomorrow I will use this machine on your pussy.” The machine shifts, driving deeper into your mouth until your lips are pressed against the laminate phallus’ base. Your gag reflex had been overwritten by the Ministry of Improvements. As it withdraws, Alexandra claps her hands together. “Excellent! But… I do have a bit more motivation.” Crossing to the dresser directly before you, she pulls from it a small spray bottle. One you know, twin reactions welling within you at the sight of it: fear and a perverse, intense desire. Torean catnip. [[You struggle, moaning.->CatMedium2]]

Pulling against your restraints does little, the bondage as heavy as it is total. Only your head can move with some freedom, but you cannot avoid when your Mistress holds the bottle before the cage and sprays you—directly in the face. The effect is nearly immediate. Torean slave feed may have been uniform, consistent, but it was common practice to introduce additives catered to each slave. To yours a strong pheromone was added, one that induced intense and inescapable ecstasy. But it was dormant, merely lurking in your bloodstream until activated… by that small spray bottle. You moan immediately, wriggling in your restraints as your legs try to close, to come together. But you cannot move, cannot reach your suddenly burning cunt, cannot shove the cock any further into your throat. Any sense of dignity that remained to you, anything that resemble rational thought or effort leaves you. In that short moment you’re reduced to an animal in intense heat, your own cunt the very center of your universe. And you cannot do anything but moan, brows upturned, biting against the gag that kept you from harming the cock. [[“MMMMMMMGHHHHHH!!!”->CatMedium3]]

“I know, Cici, I know…” the words barely break through the haze of your lust, bleary eyes blinking as you recognize your Mistress before you. Her hand pats your cheek, the sheer sensation of another’s touch maddening. “I hope this will be a night you never forget…” She stands, and before you the machine engages properly. The cock buried within you pulls out, inch by enraptured inch. Your horomone-addled body can hardly track it, synapses burn the feeling into one elongated experience—that ends with a **bang** as the cock is suddenly drilled between your full lips once more. You nearly gag on it, from the simple ecstasy of it all instead of any reflex, but the machine is unyielding. Already it’s pulling out, and you breath deeply, panting through your nose as your hips rock back and forth in frustration. Soon it comes again, and again, and again. Incapable of sating your desire, but still requiring your full attention. “Remember,” Alexandra says, somewhere atop her bed. She must be securing her other slave. “Remember that I love you, Cici.” [[As your cock slams home again, you know you love her too. You WILL earn that reward tomorrow…->Ending]]

“Well allow me to jog that memory,” she responds, adjusting her glasses slightly. Corinth leans back into the plush material of the booth, glancing out at Club Lush before returning her attention to you alone. “You probably know better than I that Torei sort of functions on… arousal, right? Because natural-born Toreans just can’t seem to stop thinking about sex, and all that. If we’re to stay here on Torei, I thought it best we be able to keep up. So at the Ministry of Improvements I had your libido, your sex drive, increased to Torean levels. It was just a shot, actually. Can you believe that? You will need a booster in a few weeks, and a supplement most slave feed provides, but that’s it. Expect to be… pretty horny going forward.” The thought clearly amuses her. [[“This is… how I’m always going to feel?”->ExamFeel]] [[“Wait, you said ‘it is best WE be able to keep up’?”->ExamWe]] [[“Can this be reversed?”->ExamReverse]]

“You do?” One of her brows rises, her lips screwing together. She takes a harder look at you, staring down her nose and thus the glasses seated upon them. What she comes to clearly doesn’t please her. “Well, right. Let us… just go over the basics, at least? Jog that memory. You’ve always been full of questions, after all. They could not have trained that out of you at the Academy.” Corinth leans back into the plush material of the booth, glancing out at Club Lush before returning her attention to you alone. “You probably know better than I that Torei sort of functions on… arousal, right? Because natural-born Toreans just can’t seem to stop thinking about sex, and all that. If we’re to stay here on Torei, I thought it best we be able to keep up. So at the Ministry of Improvements I had your libido, your sex drive, increased to Torean levels. It was just a shot, actually. Can you believe that? You will need a booster in a few weeks, and a supplement most slave feed provides, but that’s it. Expect to be… pretty horny going forward.” The thought clearly amuses her. [[“This is… how I’m always going to feel?”->ExamFeel]] [[“Wait, you said ‘it is best WE be able to keep up’?”->ExamWe]] [[“Can this be reversed?”->ExamReverse]]

“Yep,” Corinth replies, readily. “Kind of explains Torei, doesn’t it? If everyone feels that way, almost all the time… *and* everyone is in laminate? We’re not really in a position to throw stones or whatever, but still. Couldn’t blame them anyway.” She shrugs a bit, her bared shoulders and the arousal in question making the simple gesture almost alluring. “That was just the first improvement I made to you, of course.” [[“Wait, you said ‘it is best WE be able to keep up’?”->ExamWe]] [[“Can this be reversed?”->ExamReverse]] [["What about those other improvements?"->ExamOther]]

“Oh, ha—good catch,” your Mistress chuckles. Looking down at herself, as if taking in what Torei had done to her, her smile only widens as she eventually gestures towards herself with both hands. “I had the same boosters applied. Of a lesser grade, to keep things more rational. But still. A Mistress has expectations as well.” Her teeth gleam as she bares them, the smile turning predatory. “And of course it helps justify keeping a concubine slave, doesn’t it? Especially one with all the different improvements I made to her.” [[“This is… how I’m always going to feel?”->ExamFeel]] [[“Can this be reversed?”->ExamReverse]] [["What about those other improvements?"->ExamOther]]

“It can,” Corinth notes, shrugging. “Stopping the supplements would keep you from reaching the highest of the highs, so to speak. And full reversal would require another shot, or some such, I’m sure. Torei biomedical skill is incredible after all. But why are you worrying about that? Don’t you *want* to be the slut?” [[“I do, Mistress!”->RevBest]] [[“…yes.”->RevMid]] [[“No, Corinth!”->RevLow]]

“Oh, well those are more obvious mostly. The Academy did some work, as you know, but I want you to be the very best concubine you can! And that means filling out your dresses, and lingerie, and harnesses juuuuuuust right, you know?” Her enthusiasm is almost infectious. As is the way she stares, taking in the sight of you in tight red laminate. [[“I do… fill things out more, yes.”->ExamFill]] [[“Why is my hair red?->ExamHair]]

Sticking her tongue out, Corinth laughs. “Knew it. That’s why I made the other improvements too.” [[“This is… how I’m always going to feel?”->ExamFeel]] [[“Wait, you said ‘it is best WE be able to keep up’?”->ExamWe]] [["What about those other improvements?"->ExamOther]]

Sticking her tongue out, Corinth laughs. “Knew it. This is Torei, babe. No reason to be *too* ashamed about it. That’s why I made the other improvements too.” [[“This is… how I’m always going to feel?”->ExamFeel]] [[“Wait, you said ‘it is best WE be able to keep up’?”->ExamWe]] [["What about those other improvements?"->ExamOther]]

“Mmm…” Corinth regards you for a long moment before her eyes end up resting on your collar. “I’m not sure that is totally true, and as a collared slave you don’t exactly have a choice in the matter… or any of the other improvements, either.” [[“This is… how I’m always going to feel?”->ExamFeel]] [[“Wait, you said ‘it is best WE be able to keep up’?”->ExamWe]] [["What about those other improvements?"->ExamOther]]

“You *do*,” Corinth enthuses. “The Ministry does good work, don’t they?” Looking down, you have to at least cede that point. The swell of your chest and hips is more pronounced now, but still natural looking. For what amounted to surgery on most worlds, there is no evidence of it having occurred mere hours earlier. “I know it will take some time for you to get used to,” she continues, as your eyes meet again. “But… you look great, babe. I know that dress was literally made for you, given how Wardrobes work, but I still mean it when I say you rock it!” [[“Why is my hair red?->ExamHair]] [[“Can we talk about the dress?->ExamDress]]

“I’m a sucker for a red-haired girl,” Corinth states simply, before her trademark smile arises again. “I mean it! But I do have another reason. Did you know red hair isn’t naturally Torean? Something about their genetics. Traditionalists don’t care for it, I’ve been told. Which is also why I chose it. I’m *not* Torean, neither are you. Why not flaunt it?” Two of the fingers on her hand point towards you, then move in a tight circle. “And, you know, if I’m going to own a slave I should at least get to pick her hair color! Just like I picked the dress.” [[“You adjusted my measurements.”->ExamFill]] [[“Can we talk about the dress?->ExamDress]]

The dress in question, rendered wholly in glossy laminate with a longer tail and a deep slit that exposed your thigh readily upon standing certainly was notable. Corinth takes in the sight as your hands come together upon the table between you, the opera length gloves matching everything else in shade. Unlike the strangers that surrounded you however, only she could know about the extensive lingerie beneath. “What do you mean?” Your Mistress asks. [[“I just wanted to say that I love it, Corinth!”->DressLove]] [[“Its just not what I expected a slave would wear.->DressExpect]] [[“Actually, can I ask about something else?->CorDate]]

“I hoped you would!” Corinth replies, reaching across the table to interlock her fingers with your own. Both of you are gloved, you in red her in black, the colors intermingling. “I had some of my old clothing, offworld textiles and the like, shipped here while you were at the Academy. Just incase I needed them. But you… you will be wearing laminate, only, going forward. Dresses and bras, corsets and garters… they trained you on heels too, at the Academy? Right?” [[“Extensively.->DressLove2]]

“Why is that? Torei has all sorts of slaves, and all sorts of owners. And there is nothing odd about a favored concubine being taken out on the town, in a glossy dress! You should count yourself lucky some lichen farmer didn’t buy you, put you in a full enclosure suit all day working their fields. Although now that I say it, you would probably like that I’m thinking… ah, nevermind. What I mean to say is that I’ll keep you however I like, and I *like* you in this way right now.” She pauses to take a sip from her glass, but smiles over the rim before actually drinking. “And its not the only thing you’re wearing, is it?” [[“It is not, Mistress!”->DressExpect2]] [[“You mean… the undergarments?”->DressExpect2]]

“*Wonderful,*” Corinth gleefully smiles. “The expectation that a woman, much less a slave, need almost always be heeled was probably the hardest bit for me to adapt to. My poor toes, those first few weeks and months. But you know what I’m talking about, and I hope you’d agree that the way it improves one’s posture and the overall look… well, I’ve come to find out it is hard to go wrong with stilettos!” [[“Its just not what I expected a slave would wear.->DressExpect]] [[“Actually, can I ask about something else?->CorDate]]

She meant the bra and panties beneath, both of which integrated into a two part body harness focused on chest and hips respectfully. That the Wardrobe had managed such intricacy without breaking the smooth lines of the dress atop them is a testament to Torean engineering. Likewise, the fact that it had been a recommended addition for “submissive personalities” spoke to just how well Torei knew those who would be wearing such. “We will get to that,” Corinth promises. [[“I just wanted to say that I love it, Corinth!”->DressLove]] [[“Actually, can I ask about something else?->CorDate]]

“You most certainly do,” Corinth replies sharply. “You had better get use to it, babe. If you’re good perhaps I’ll allow you some proper food, but what you have before you is the standard for most Torean slaves. Enough nutrition in a single meal to keep you going for the day, and that’s important. I intend to make sure you keep to a good diet, and good exercise. I want you as healthy as you can be.” [[Healthy, but not particularly happy when it came to feeding time it seems.->CorAskDinner]]

Corinth’s eyes narrow, not angry but sizing you up. The black of her brows and the sharp lines of her raven bangs conspire to make it a rather intimidating look. “Yes you will.” [[She’s not giving you a choice.->CorAskDinner]]

Taking up your spoon, you test the proverbial waters by dipping it into the waiting Feed. Much like porridge or oatmeal it is liquid, but viscous. Never having looked appetizing, the way your spook slowly slides into the gruel hardly furthers the prospect. It certainly doesn’t taste *good*. Or like much of anything at all. The lack of flavor is matched to a strange textureless sensation, as if the Feed itself was as glossy and smooth as any piece of laminate clothing. You’re almost surprised how easily it goes down… and how readily the idea of biting into a proper meal suddenly resonates with you in that moment. (set: $Strike to 1) [[Still, you take a few more bites.->CorDate]]

“Well, talk about… well, talking!” Throwing back the last of her drink, Corinth’s enthusiasm boils over with a bright smile. She stands, sliding from the booth as she offers her hand. Her other extends towards the rest of Club Lush, the scene below the VIP balcony as always a riotous affair of laminate. “Can you dance?” She asks, only to run over your actual answer. “Although I guess the better question would be if you remember, right? Don’t worry about it, babe. Come on, I’ll show you. Now that we’ve hashed everything out there is so much I’m ready to show you.” [[Take her hand. “Show me, Mistress.”->CorDinnerEnd2]] [[Take her hand. “What do you mean?”->CorDinnerEndB]]

Digging once more into your food, across the table Corinth finishes her drink. Tapping in her order on the console between you, another is delivered in short order by a uniformed slave. You met Cherish months ago, and while this one isn’t her the outfit is the same—as is the Club’s means of compelling them to do good work. When Corinth presses another button the slave is treated to a bit of vibration from her piercing, her thighs coming reflexively together. Afterward she thanks Corinth profusely, withdrawing with her tray. It is a small taste of everyday Torean life, and far more enjoyable than the mouthful of slave feed you have in that moment. (set: $Strike to 2) [[But you take a few more bites, nearly finishing it.->CorDate]]

Doing your duty once more, you finish off your so-called meal. The clink of the spoon upon bowl draws Corinth’s attention away from the distant stage, where a band of some sort is performing. One of the instruments appears to be a slave’s moans induced to produce a rhythm, but your Mistress’ attention overrides that observation. “Done,” she notes happily. “Good. Shall we wrap things up? Once you’re ready to go, you need only tell me. The night is still young, and we *do* have other things to do.” (set: $Strike to 3) [[Her smile promises so very much.->CorDate]]

Lost in Laminate remains in active development, and you have reached one of the handful of paths that remain incomplete. You will now be fast-forwarded to the ending. [[Ending]]

"Hey," you had drifted off, the somewhat impatient voice breaks through. "Are you paying attention?" (set: $Gear to 18) [["What? Yes, of course."->HotelReg]] [["Huh? Sorry I was... thinking."->HotelReg]] [["Yes Mistress!"->HotelMiss]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/G0lGB6M.png" width="55%" height="55%"> "You really need to pay more attention," Tess replies, with amusement. "Its been a few months, and you *still* daydream?" You blink in response, remembering exactly where you are: the Diarch's Choice. The entryway and front desk are exactly as you recall from your first visit, now so long ago. Clean white styling is offset by bits of violet design and decor, while the light streaming in from the front door paints a bright square upon the hardened laminate floor. In fact you stood right here, where you are now, after waking up with a memory shot through with holes and a deal to make. Glancing down, you see how things have changed. You're uniformed now of course, wearing the same livery as Tess-- a semi-transparent laminate dress, violet with black shoulders upon which small letters are printed: *Property of Diarch's Choice Hotel.* Your collar reinforced that fact, a heavy steel band pulled tight around your throat. Further down your dress hugs your thighs and hips sharply, a pencil skirt forming. From that emerges your stockings, black, their connection via garters to the belt beneath your dress nevertheless revealed by the transparency of the latter. Half-gloves and a set of stiletto heels complete the ensemble. Its quite the compelling uniform, but in truth you are well acquainted with it by now. You have been with the Hotel since they purchased you at auction, after all, sheer chance bringing you back to the very place you had once locked yourself to the bed to prevent your staying on Torei. How things-- "Hey!" Tess interrupts again, eyes narrowing. "You were doing it again!" [["Sorry, sorry-- I'm listening."->Hotel4]] [["Paying attention now, I swear it."->Hotel4]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/G0lGB6M.png" width="55%" height="55%"> "I'm not your Mistress," Tess replies, with amusement. "Its been a few months, and you *still* daydream?" You blink in response, remembering exactly where you are: the Diarch's Choice. The entryway and front desk are exactly as you recall from your first visit, now so long ago. Clean white styling is offset by bits of violet design and decor, while the light streaming in from the front door paints a bright square upon the hardened laminate floor. In fact you stood right here, where you are now, after waking up with a memory shot through with holes and a deal to make. Glancing down, you see how things have changed. You're uniformed now of course, wearing the same livery as Tess-- a semi-transparent laminate dress, violet with black shoulders upon which small letters are printed: *Property of Diarch's Choice Hotel.* Your collar reinforced that fact, a heavy steel band pulled tight around your throat. Further down your dress hugs your thighs and hips sharply, a pencil skirt forming. From that emerges your stockings, black, their connection via garters to the belt beneath your dress nevertheless revealed by the transparency of the latter. Half-gloves and a set of stiletto heels complete the ensemble. Its quite the compelling uniform, but in truth you are well acquainted with it by now. You have been with the Hotel since they purchased you at auction, after all, sheer chance bringing you back to the very place you had once locked yourself to the bed to prevent your staying on Torei. How things-- "Hey!" Tess interrupts again, eyes narrowing. "You were doing it again!" [["Sorry, sorry-- I'm listening."->Hotel4]] [["Paying attention now, I swear it."->Hotel4]]

You had met Tess during your first visit to the Hotel, but had only come to learn her name upon being assigned to the same shift as her. Your Master owned four slaves to maintain Diarch's Choice, two each for the day and night shifts. "Alright," your fellow slave sighs. "Let me start again, just to be safe. We were discussing our duties, for the day? I will be manning the Front Desk, of course." As the more experienced slave, that expected. You were always given the more menial work, which Tess addresses next. "You will be on call, as always, but we do have two rooms that need cleaning. Room 3 was checked out completely, you just need to prep that one for someone else to rent it. Room 6 also needs cleaning, but Master Alphono rented it for the week. He left a note he will be out today, so you need only to spruce it up." [["Will our Master be around today?"->HotelMaster]] [["Rooms 3 and 6, got it."->Hotel5]]

"No," Tess replies, reaching up to adjust her collar a bit. "Or at least, he did not warn me he would. You know how he is, only stopping in occasionally-- he trusts us. But I'm sure if we keep up our good work he will reward us next time he stops in!" She's enthusiastic about the prospect. "So we need to keep up on our daily tasks, keep the Hotel running! And that means..." [["Rooms 3 and 6 need cleaning, got it.->Hotel5]]

"Good girl," Tess purrs, then laughs. "Now get going, those rooms aren't going to clean themselves!" As you step back from the counter Tess settles into her seat, sitting primly. Back straight, chest pressed invitingly forward, its the same sort of posture you've been trained to keep. A proper Torean Hotel made sure its slaves were as desirable as its rooms, after all. Brushing a bit of your hair from your eyes, blonde to match Tess and your Master's other slaves, you look about the lobby. Columns at all four corners rise to meet a recessed ceiling above, while below the marble floor is marked with the light from outside. Its still early morning, before most of the day's new arrivals would be coming for rooms. Besides the door to the world outside there is only one other, the glass panel and portal that led to the Hotel's rooms and amenities. Pursing your violet-painted lips, you turn that way, heels snapping sharply against the floor as you set off. The only question is where you start: [[Start with Room 3->Room3]] [[Start with Room 4->Room4]]

Double-click this passage to edit it.

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/LHncakj.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> (set: $Gear to 19) As always, one of the Academy's Wardrobe Devices had dressed you for shipment. Violet laminate is the base of it, running from neck to toes and designed intentionally to be semi-transparent. Your accessories, corset, collar, and boots are darker to provide a pleasing contrast, the black nevertheless gleaming as you're lowered into your waiting box. An armbinder circles your shoulders and holds your arms behind you, rendering you properly helpless, but it is the shipping box's padding that truly immobilizes you. Printed in further laminate to match your exact measurements, it embraces your legs and hips, your waist and shoulders, and even has a larger indention for your bound arms. A ballgag completes your ensemble, while your blonde hair is carefully arranged around your head. (if: not ($Inv contains "basic doll gag"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "basic doll gag"))](if: not ($Inv contains "basic doll binder"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "basic doll binder"))](if: $Inv contains "academy collar")[(set: $Inv to $Inv - (a: "academy collar")) (colour: green)[Academy Collar Removed!]] (colour: red)[Basic Doll Gag added! Basic Doll Binder added!] Several shipping straps follow, at ankles, knees, waist, and throat. Beside you several accessories are provided, the particulars differing based upon the buyer's preference. In your case they prove to be a vibrating wand, a blindfold, and most importantly a Wardrobe data chit preloaded with hundreds of other coordinated Doll outfits-- all of which slot neatly into compartments printed into the padding for just their use. [[The last piece is your box's lid.->DollEnd4]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/GJatby9.png" width="30%" height="30%"> Sliding the lid into place, Headmistress Vallis herself flicks the mag-locks closed one by one. You're a captive audience to it all as you peer out from the plastic viewport within the lid, intended not for your own use but to display you for both the curious and of course your new owner. A violet ribbon, matching your catsuit, is tied into a neat bow as the finishing touch. "There we are," the Headmistress concludes, looking over her handiwork once more before brushing gloved hands together. Only then does she lean in, her crimson lips pulled into a sharp smile. "Comfortable, Doll? I hope so. You've been purchased by..." her eyes flick to the shipping labeled hooked to the side of your box. "...Master Tenyon, of Arendesh Ringdom. Do you know where that is? Almost certainly not. Well, its not quite Antipodal, but it is quite far from the Way Up, or Aekora. It used to take a good two months, but with the new high speed line you will reach there by train, in about... three weeks." She taps her fingers against the viewport of your box. "The supplements we gave you are slow-burning, you won't be hungry during the trip at least. And your body will produce no waste to concern you. But I know how our Dolls are, you're not worried about that. No, you're just thinking with your cunt... and yes, we planned for that too." She pulls forth a glass device, tapping a few quick keys. Your body, or more accurately the piercings at your clit and nipples installed by the Ministry of Improvements during your training answer readily. A slight tingle is followed by the direct stimulation of your most sensitive of sensual hotspots, and almost immediately you wriggle happily in your bondage. "I see you're feeling it," the Headmistress notes, sounding warm-- a rare tone from the strict authoritarian. The hand that had been tapping your box now caresses it slowly as she meets your eyes one last time. "Goodbye, Doll. Remember you represent Celeste Academy at its best. Serve Master Tenyon well... and enjoy your new life. The porters will be here in the morning to collect you." And with that she leaves, flicking off the light to the room as she goes. You're left in darkness, with only your body's eager sensations to occupy you. The tight pull of laminate, the strict corset at your waist, the unyielding bondage-- and of course the tickling purr of your stim array, all of it to be maintained throughout your three week trip to your new home. [[You moan into your gag, happily lost in laminate.->DollEnd5]]

In the morning a pair of men in laminate overhauls come for you. They look the part of manual labor and soon act like it, working together to heft your box between them. You vaguely recognize the logo on their gear as being a premier transport company of some sort, which explained how they could employ men on Torei for such work-- it would be as much a matter of prestige and meeting expectations as it is the simple fact that men are so often stronger. You can do little beyond rest in your box as they carry you of course, looking up through the lid at the sky above. In the early light of dawn you still catch glimpses of Grand Aekora's twinkling skyline in the distance, and beyond that the Way Up itself-- a string of pearls stretching towards infinity. You've come so far from that troubled woman who had rode down the elevator over a year ago. The physical aspects are obvious, of course. At your new Master's direction you have been improved, made bustier and with more dramatic hips, as well as a host of other alternations. But the true change is in your thinking, the way you perceive yourself as much as Torei around you. You're happy to serve, to be little more than a sexual toy for others, a *Doll* in more than just name. Struggling allows you to remember little of what life was like before, wearing textiles and working as a prospector-- but simply laying back and obeying your betters brings all manner of delights. The tight embrace of your laminate and gear is a constant reminder of that, as is the teasing purr of your stim array. [[You moan quietly.->DollEnd6]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/FQWhjCH.png" width="30%" height="30%"> *Where are you?* **Who** *are you?* You remember, but only barely. Its so hard now, and you have so little reason to. Such things get in the way of the sensations, the all encompassing, all consuming ways in which your Isolation Laminate made you feel. And it is yours now, more than it had ever been. Somewhere a chronometer ticks over, noting the passage of time, but you merely are aware-- somewhat-- that it has been months since you first entered that mask, this suit. You need not remove it, you *cannot*. **Would you even still want to?** You feel a twinge of discomfort at that thought. A scent is pushed into your mask, something tangy, metallic. Three blue triangles form on your mask's inner HUD. Consciously you cannot comprehend what any of it meant, you've long given up trying, yet somehow you've learned to understand. (colour: purple)[To obey.] So you begin walking again, a figure of gleaming black surrounded by total darkness. Your heels snap against the smooth rock beneath, echoing into eternity. A tunnel. Torei's terraforming continued, shepherded by the same AIs that owned you now, and this had once been a means to their far future end. You pass by another Daemon, female, legs spread and back arched upon the ground as it experiences an ecstasy only your kind can understand. Join her. [[Keep walking...->DaeEx2]] (click-replace: "Join her.")[(colour: purple)[///%Walk, slave.%///]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/F9Rgi0u.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> (colour: purple)[Bliss eternal.] There are four of you, beneath the blistering sun. Each of you have three holes, three inserts. All are in use. Together you squirm entwined, legs and arms together, breasts to rear to waist, mask to mask. Your laminate gleams as it glides effortlessly against your fellow Daemons, a thigh between your legs allowing you to press your hips forward, humping slowly, instructed to draw out the sensations. A moan escapes you but is lost to your mask, to the cock inserted down your throat. You no longer have a gag reflex, a quirk only offworlders had to be cured of anyway. Are you being rewarded? You think so. Of the others you have not an inkling, and little reason to care. You were directed here, to converge, in the depths of the Badlands. There are no buildings, no people, only unfinished work. Vaguely beyond your mask, before another Daemon presses her cunt to it, you can see the rock formations surrounding you. Rain rarely visited here, and only desperate humans sought refuge in such a wasteland. But you are not human, not while in your Isolation Laminate. Humans thought and fought, spoke and argued, made decisions. (colour: purple)[You only obey.] [[You twist, and press your hand between another's legs...->DaeEx3A]] [[You shift your shoulders, sliding your breasts against another...->DaeEx3B]] You reach down, teasing yourself. (click-replace: "You reach down, teasing yourself.")[(colour: purple)[///%Please them, Slave.%///]]

Its snowing now. And you've been walking again. How long now? How long? (colour: purple)[It doesn't matter.] You're here. Beyond the temperate Ringdoms, beyond the waning lichen outlands, beyond the Badlands... you've been heading towards them. Towards it. You're not sure which, (colour: purple)[it doesn't matter.] But you've made it. [[You're home.->DaeEx4]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/0cLwQRu.png" width="50%" height="50%"> One of Torei's creators. Its almost absent Gods. The AIs, Mazos and Dahom. The ziggurat that rises before you gleams as readily beneath the stars as any laminate, a subtle warmth melting the snow to reveal where earth became... something else. You no longer have the faculties to investigate, but you sense it is not metal, nor one of the myriad forms of laminate. The AI are something else entirely, massive as they are ancient. You have not been brought here to speak with them, of course. They do not talk, they do not even think as you do-- although your conditioning is pushing you in that direction, allowing you to grasp at strands in a tapestry of design and intent you are utterly incapable of truly fathoming. Upon entering the suit you now wear, you earned their attention however. You've become a part of their greater whole, a cog in an endless machine. (colour: purple)[You will be used.] How? Examine the nearest flashing light. Continue forward. (click-replace: "How?")[(colour: purple)[///%Obey, Slave.%///]](click-replace: "Examine the nearest flashing light.")[(colour: purple)[///%Obey, Slave.%///]](click-replace: "Continue forward.")[A panel opens at your approach, a yawning mouth. Within there is only darkness, a stark contrast to your glossy suit's reflections from the stars above. [[Enter.]]]

You awaken, and *everything* is wrong. (set: $Gear to 0) You are not compelled, or instructed. Your holes, cunt and rear and mouth, are empty. You are... you blink rapidly, breath catching in your throat... you are *naked?* (if: $Inv contains "daemon control suite")[(set: $Inv to $Inv - (a: "daemon control suite"))] Panicked, you try to sit up but cannot. You may not be bound, but a clear barrier is just a few inches above you. Glass, you recognize. You're in a glass tube. Barely larger than your prone self, rounded like a vial. The only break in the smooth glass is a more metallic panel just below your head, to which a chain is attached within the vial itself. Your eyes follow it down to find it linked to your throat, to the thin band of metal that encircles it. A collar. *Your* collar. In the slight reflection of the glass you can see it is bare metal, except for a set of symbols set into the bottom edge. They glow, a sickly sort of yellow. Your reflection also reveals the source of a sensation you had only begun to notice-- you're in... water? Some sort of liquid, pitch black but thin, running like water. It fills the bottom half of the vial, covering your shoulders but not rising to cover your head or breasts. (set: $Strike to 0) [[Look outside your vial.->LookVial]] [[Push against the glass, try to break it!->BreakVial]] [[Scream for help!->ScreamVial]]

Your vial is not the only one. *Far* from it. Looking out you see dozens, hundreds maybe, held horizontally to the walls much like your own. They flow in a strange pattern until you notice the room itself is irregular in shape, as if bulges in the walls emerged at odd angles. Perhaps half of the vials are occupied, all of them with women (and the occasional man) in a state of nudity much like your own. Some can be seen beating against the glass, others struggle in different ways, but many are simply still. Sleeping, perhaps. Or resigned. (set: $Strike to it + 2) The nearest vial holds another woman, her short cut hair a bright red. Somewhere in the spiraling mass that is your own confusion, you recognize that as strange. Why? It takes you a moment to parse the information. Toreans were not naturally ginger. Was she another offworlder, much like you? Your own hair of course is... Its only then that you realize your head has been shaved bald. When had that happened? *What is going on?!* (if: $Strike is > 2)[[[Suddenly your vial moves!->VialMove]]](else:)[ [[Push against the glass, try to break it!->BreakVial]] [[Scream for help!->ScreamVial]]]

Without much space to maneuver you cannot achieve much windup, and the glass of your vial looks quite think indeed. Balling your fists you nevertheless try to pound against your strange cage. Its not very surprising when you achieve little, even the echo of your impacts sounding far away, muted somehow. Something *does* change, however. Images project along the curved surface of the vial, flicking so quickly you can barely perceive what you're shown. An inverted triangle, white on a field of black. A forest, unlike anything you've ever seen on Torei. Then black, black, more black, now broken by waves of light. Smooth, glossy, you recognize it even as the camera pans out: laminate. A daemon, writhing in glorious euphoria. Then walking, now on its knees, hips thrusting silently. The strange images keep coming, and you settle back into the black liquid of your vial, strangely calmed. (set: $Strike to it + 1) (if: $Strike is > 2)[[[Suddenly your vial moves!->VialMove]]](else:)[ [[Touch yourself.->TouchVial]] [[Look outside your vial.->LookVial]]]

Your scream is primal, fueled by an almost feral sense of fear and apprehension. Yet the sound that emerges is strangely deadened, as if your vial consumes most of it, allowing only a faint echo to linger afterward. For a moment you think it almost a wasted effort, the tortured confusion that came before rational thought took over-- until a response, of sorts, comes. Images project along the curved surface of the vial, flicking so quickly you can barely perceive what you're shown. An inverted triangle, white on a field of black. A forest, unlike anything you've ever seen on Torei. Then black, black, more black, now broken by waves of light. Smooth, glossy, you recognize it even as the camera pans out: laminate. A daemon, writhing in glorious euphoria. Then walking, now on its knees, hips thrusting silently. The strange images keep coming, and you settle back into the black liquid of your vial, strangely calmed. (set: $Strike to it + 1) (if: $Strike is > 2)[[[Suddenly your vial moves!->VialMove]]](else:)[ [[Touch yourself.->TouchVial]] [[Look outside your vial.->LookVial]]]

With a pneumatic hiss, the armature upon which your vial rested, one among so many, moves. The chain running from your collar to the panel of metal set into the glass jingles quietly as your strange enclosure shifts, sloshing the black liquid, then turns vertical. That black liquid runs down, filling the vial to your knees as the entire apparatus moves. Outwardly first, then down, towards the floor. Just what it intended is made suddenly clear when the glass upon which you are now standing unceremoniously gives way, shifting to the side upon a seam you had not seen. You drop the foot or so left to the ground, unsteady legs giving way as you end up upon your knees. Black liquid pours down around you, splashing momentarily but draining quickly *through* the floor. Small holes, pores almost, pepper the otherwise white floor material. It has a bit of give as well, unlike anything you've ever experienced before. The strange floor is almost put to use again as a wave of queasiness runs through you, but you swallow hard, holding it down. Looking up, you find yourself on a small platform. Much like the rest of the room, the floor curves and bends in an irregular manner, but the platform upon which you kneel is flat. Before you can observe further however, a glinting hint of light draws your eyes upward. There you find the metal portion of the vial slid out upon your release, following a slot along the floor. Your leash, and thus collar, remain chained to it-- and with only moments to spare you move forward before it would have tugged you.The chain is too short for you to stand, so that you must crawl. [[You're led towards a wall panel that suddenly shifts aside.->InsideAI]]

Your half-filled vial would have made it difficult to raise your hands above your head, but with them already at your sides shifting a hand to the meeting of your thighs is easy enough. To your surprise you find yourself wet and aching, as if starved for attention. You move to address that need immediately, pressing your fingers to your lower lips, but it takes only moments for frustration to begin to build. This... is a pale imitation of what you *need.* Even shifting your efforts, leaning more heavily upon direct stimulation of your clit produces little of the ecstasy you *knew* was possible... from your time in the Isolation Laminate. How could you ever compare with such an experience? That's a question that lands particularly hard, despite the jumble of other questions floating inside your mind. You've supped from a nectar too sweet for any human hand, any ministration of your own, to equal. (set: $Strike to it + 1) (if: $Strike is > 2)[[[Suddenly your vial moves!->VialMove]]](else:)[ [[Look outside your vial.->LookVial]]]

It is difficult to call what you enter a *hallway*. It clearly was not designed for human use. The ceiling bends and undulates, the walls shift at incomprehensible angles for unknowable reasons. At a fork one side becomes dramatically smaller, impassable. Twice you pass under vents discharging some manner of violet gas, whatever it was terribly cold, you're glad you are not stopped beneath it. The only consistency comes in the color, a uniform black from which everything is built. And through it all you crawl, naked and head shaved, pulled along by the chain running to the slot in the floor. You have no doubt you would be forcibly pulled if you attempted to stop. [[Another fork approaches.->InsideAI2]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/nC8CvwZ.jpg" width="50%" height="50%"> Fresh light suddenly intrudes, replacing the dingy gloom that otherwise prevailed. And you're not alone. The passage widens to reveal a Daemon in full regalia, standing with its hand upon a clear panel. Without eyes to see it peers out at a scene utterly foreign to Torei-- lush green foliage, trees and running water. It stretches out for quite awhile, hills rising in the distance. *Where are you?* In that moment you think perhaps you have been transported, brought to some strange new world, but looking to the sky reveals it to be a stark white-- almost artificially so. Some manner of... biodome, perhaps? Or perhaps the window was merely a screen, a projection producing a synthetic image. Either way, neither your leash nor the Daemon pay your interest any mind. The former keeps moving, and the latter remains in place as you continue on. [[Behind you the bright light grows ever dimmer.->InsideAI3]]

How long have you been crawling? Long enough for your hands and knees to have grown sore, you realize. Was the AI truly so large? How far did it extend underground? You've never really considered the prospect. Or perhaps you had? You still cannot recall what happened before that fate day, waking on that hotel bed. Afterward you had been so concerned with your deal, maybe even leaving... and afterward there had been only your suit. Submission. Before you can consider that line of thought further, however, your leash suddenly pivots sharply left. A chunk, and that is how best the irregular piece of wall could be described, moves aside for you to pass through. And then you're nearly blinded by the stark white light that emerges. You're forced to close your eyes even as you crawl into the room, but you feel your lead halting even as you slowly try to blink away the painful brightness. What you eventually find is a pristine white room, separated in two by a set of bars running from ceiling to floor. Your side is empty, even the entrance you had used is now gone, but the other side is occupied-- by a Daemon. Sleek black laminate covers it from head to toe, as always, but this one is reclined in a chair, its arms locked into a straitjacket. Its legs are spread by padded extensions, while heavy laminate straps scattered about secure it firmly in place. It writhes in that bondage, muffled moans escaping it. You stand, finding your leash has disconnected from the floor, and approach the bars. Something... something is wrong. Its so hard to think here, after all that has happened, after all you've seen and experienced. But... you... *know* that voice. Did Daemons even make sounds? You don't remember ever hearing them. But you've heard this one before, of course you have... its... [[You.->AITrip]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/scf6kDr.png" width="50%" height="50%"> It can't be. And yet the more you stare at it, listen to it, you become more certain. That Daemon is *you*, as you have been since you entered that mask... so long ago. How many hours or even days did you spend, with only your own muffled moans as company? Bewildered you lean against the bars separating you from... yourself, and find that you can slide your arm between the alabaster metal. This was no projection. Further confusion floods your mind, and as if on cue haptic displays suddenly engage. You step back, startled, to see a pair of shapes projected before you, as if floating above the bars. Another round of recognition chills you as your realize they're the same sort a Daemon's mask projected inside, for reasons unknown. Yet these you *can* make out, if only by staring at them. Then the strange lines, the overlapping shapes within the larger more clearly defined shapes collect into... not words, but something you somehow understand. To your left, in the square: **RELEASE.** To your right, in the triangle: (colour: purple)[**OBEY.**] [[You reach up, and press your hand against RELEASE...->AIRelease]] [[You reach up, and press your hand against OBEY...->AIObey]]

With a trembling hand, you press **RELEASE.** Your choice is answered by an immediate hiss to your side. Turning, you find another opening has been revealed. From the bright white room you are greeted by a darkened tunnel, shaped almost like a pipe, running upward. Towards the surface. Towards... release? You look back to the struggling, moaning figure strapped to the chair. You've been through a lot, you must have been mistaken. How could that be you? An impossibility. You need not stay, even if the second haptic button remains. (colour: purple)[OBEY.] [[Leave the room, enter the tunnel.->AIRelease2]] [[You reach up, and press your hand against OBEY...->AIObey]]

As soon as your fingertips find the haptic button it flashes, and darkness descends. A total blackness, the sort that only being within a structure without windows, without the barest hint of non-artificial light could induce. You can see nothing, yet you feel... different. Immediately different. A (colour: purple)[familiar] sensation overwhelms you, from toes to head. (set: $Strike to 0) "No..." "What is going on...?!" [[It feels so good...->IntheChair]] (click-replace: "No...")[(set: $Strike to 1)(colour: purple)["Mmmmmghh!"]](click-replace: "What is going on...?!")[(set: $Strike to 1)(colour: purple)["Mmmmmghh!"]]

Walking up the tunnel, you try to parse what had just occurred. It all made sense now, didn't it? When you first met the Daemon in that hotel room, it had not tried to compel you, but had *offered* you the helmet. The AIs, Mazos and Dahom... they must valued consent. Of course! Why wouldn't they let you leave? Why would you ever want to stay? You pause, thinking back to... that Daemon who had been so like you. To the pleasure it had been so clearly being subjected to. Blinded, deafened, made helpless before the very God you still stood within. You can remember every moment of your previous encapsulation in exquisite detail now, every carefully tuned sensation fed into your strictly bound body, every blissful tweak of your own sensuality. It had been (colour: purple)[bliss.] And now that was lost to you. You pause, a hand landing upon the smooth stone of the tunnel. Turning back, glancing the way you had come, you can still see the light of that bright room you had just left. You almost expect to see a Daemon there, beckoning, but only your own thoughts greet you. You should have better reasons to persist in your escape. Liberty and freedom and dignity-- but in that moment they seem but shadows compared to that all consuming light. Even when you close your eyes the sensation lingers, figments dancing upon your eyelids. [[Turn back... return to the Daemon...->AIObeyLate]] [[NO! Run, run up the rest of the tunnel!->AIRelease3]]

You're drawn back down, into that gleaming white pit of a room. Inescapably. Each staccato inhalation marks your confusion, your fear, yet the sheer panic slides slowly away as you reach up. Bit by bit. To that set of symbols you could not read, yet knew what they say: (colour: purple)[OBEY] As soon as your fingertips find the haptic button it flashes, and darkness descends. A total blackness, the sort that only being within a structure without windows, without the barest hint of non-artificial light could induce. You can see nothing, yet you feel... different. Immediately different. A (colour: purple)[familiar] sensation overwhelms you, from toes to head. (set: $Strike to 0) "No..." "What is going on...?!" [[It feels so good...->IntheChair]] (click-replace: "No...")[(set: $Strike to 1)(colour: purple)["Mmmmmghh!"]](click-replace: "What is going on...?!")[(set: $Strike to 1)(colour: purple)["Mmmmmghh!"]]

Your bare feet slam against the strangely smooth tunnel, panicked gasps wracking your chest. Release. You were offered release, you've taken, and now you feel that if you do not seize it with both hands you will never have the will to do so again. Its a powerful fear, shoveling away any rational thought to reveal the primal creature within you. Fight or flight, the primordial responses. The latter drives you to an ancient looking door at the top of the tunnel, so different from the strange architecture you've witnessed so far. You shove the errant thought aside and pull hard on a rusted release mechanism, straining for only a moment before it gives way. With a yelp the door swings open and you stumble through. A gust of wind bitter cold greets you, the strange metal of the ziggurat beneath you, the polar sky above. You're out! Free! Celebration must wait as you return to your feet, running nude except for your collar. Some instinctual urge drives you off the ziggurat as if a whip was being worked upon your flank, pushing you into the freezing snow beyond. There mere feet from the edge of the metallic construction you collapse, panting, the humid warmth of the AI's domain draining off you rapidly. You shiver for the first time, frosted breath emerging as you gasp for air. You will freeze do death out here without clothing or gear, you recognize, yet you linger on your knees. Something has caught your eye. Is there something beneath the snow? [[You dig at it, slowly.->AIRelease4]]

Even without the frigid wind that blows across your bare back you hold your breath, hands trembling. You need not dig far, perhaps half a foot, before your fingernails brush up against something hard. Fear blossoms in your chest, an iron weight upon your heart, for reasons you cannot explain. You're scared, terrified, and yet you widen your excavation, brushing more snow away... ...to reveal ice beneath. Water, the most valuable of resources here on Torei. Glancing up, you only now notice how the land nearest the ziggurat is flattened, far more so than the small hills that rise some ways off. You must be on a frozen reservoir, you realize, a useful way for the AI to keep such a powerful terraforming material where it could not be stolen. The rigid anxiety that had gripped you releasing all at once. You laugh, despite the cold. What had pushed you to such a precipice of fear in the first place? Collecting your hands beneath your breasts, you shiver further, the smile that had emerged across your lips sliding away bit by bit. By chance you look down to the ice again, then incline your head to the left, removing the hole you had dug from your own shadow. [[Something looks back at you from the ice.->AIRelease5]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/RFI2Vpi.png" width="50%" height="50%"> (colour: purple)[A Daemon.] Beneath the ice you think for a split second, but no. Its a reflection. *Your* reflection. You try to scream but find yourself unable, your Isolation Laminate kept your mouth closed around a laminate phallus after all. Even the grunted sound you do manage is lost to the wind, although you no longer feel its polar bite. Panic has once more flooded your system, but your (colour: purple)[Master] had ensured you cannot hurt yourself. Trying to reach up, to rip the mask from your face, you find your arms bound. A glance down reveals a straitjacket holding your arms securely. [[And then everything goes dark.->IntheChair]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/scf6kDr.png" width="50%" height="50%"> (set: $Gear to 10) You have no means of knowing if your vision returns with lights being engaged, or if your Isolation Laminate merely pierces the dark. Either way, you are allowed to look once more upon a room and scene you so easily recognize. The clinically clean walls, the smooth floor, all of it a blinding white. Even the bars that portion the space into halves are white, only your suit and the chair upon which you are strapped stand in contrast. (colour: purple)[You are the Daemon in the chair.] Your silent Master, Mazos or Dahom you have never been told, as always remains silent. There is no commentary on what you had seen and experienced. Had it been a dream? A hallucination? How long have have you been within the AI's hallowed halls, maze-like corridors winding in madness deep into the heart of Torei itself? You will never know, and in truth, it is no longer your purpose to care. Squirming against your bondage, the straps and straitjacket, there is only the pleasure your holes are allowed. Inserts all but eternally purring, keeping you forever on the edge of ecstasy, your concerns begin to drop away one by one. Perhaps you've always been here. Certainly you always (colour: purple)[obey.] (set: $Inv to (a:))(if: not ($Inv contains "daemon control suite"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "daemon control suite"))] Eventually you are moved to a position before a door, barely wider than your shoulders. Your dim senses note there are dozens, hundreds-- perhaps *thousands* of identical such doors stretching in all directions around you, walls and ceilings, even the floor beneath your feet. The AI's architecture conformed to no human expectations. [[The door opens.->Dealer]]

To call it a room would be far too grandiose, even a 'chamber' suggested more than what waits you: a shallow alcove, the matte laminate padding within shaped into a form you can only expect matches your measurements exactly. (colour: purple)[Your cell.] Turning around, you do not hesitate to take the step back and into your allotted place. Restraints emerge immediately from carefully placed slots, laminate bands sliding around your ankles, waist, wrists, and throat. Pulling tight, they immobilize you as the door slides back down into place. Had it not also been built with your measurements in mind it would not have closed, but as it is it almost seems to seal around you completely. A quiet click is all that announces the door locking shut. You do not yet know it, but within your cell you will stay for the next three months, four weeks, and a day-- until somewhere in the vast machinery of thought that was the AI you belong to, a singular logic gate flips over. Zero becomes one, and new instructions are dispensed. [[You will obey, and be of use.->Dealer2]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/c4EU7Do.jpg" width="50%" height="50%"> Even here, far from the Way Up and the steady stream of offworlders who came down and spread forth upon Torei, their influence could still be felt. The Badlands supported little in the way of life, the great bands of land between equator and poles still low in priority for Mazos and Dahom. But this village subsisted, clinging like a forgotten flowerbud to a rockface that provided shade most of the day. Its people called it Red Harbor, and therein lay the oddity. *Harbor* was a wholly foreign word to Torei, a planet without oceans or lakes. Undoubtedly one of the founders had brought the word with them during their flight here, along with whatever few implements and tools they had managed to leave with. For this was a village, a tribe, of runaways-- fleeing the slavery that defined the planet. A free settlement, if an eternally threatened one. Mere survival out here could be difficult. Duststorms capable of ripping a building from its foundations emerged from the pole, raging towards the far off equator. Thus the rocky shelf that anchored the South of the settlement, providing protection. That solved one of the major needs, but not the other: *water.* Toreans were born and bred to subsist on far less water than offworlders, but some here had once come from the elevator, and in any case none could do without. [[And that is why you stood in the lam-canvas tent of their leader, looking from its raised position down upon the village.->Dealer3]]

Your hand, seamlessly covered in black laminate, is pressed against the white wall. From it patterns emerge, negotiating with the Chief that kneels behind you in supplication. She called you (colour: purple)[Emissary], treated you with reverence, but still the message you had been sent to deliver strikes her hard. "Two others," she pleads. "Whichever two you like." You sense the refusal you deliever, but she's insistent. "Three then. *Please.* If the aquifer here stays dry, we will perish. It must be refilled... but not like this." You turn your laminate covered head, looking down upon her without eyes to truly see. The terms will not be changed. The Chief sighs, pressing her head to the ground in dismay once more before she rises. At your side she is shorter, your heels give an advantage in height, but strong. Determined. "I submit to the terms." You withdraw your hand from the wall as the holographic symbols dissolve, then return your gaze to the window just as the Chief raises her voice to call out. "Daughter! Come here, child." [[A blonde haired youth turns from her work, and walks your way.->Dealer4]]

She is just past her majority, and Badlands bred. Besides the windswept plateaus and blistering desert, besides Red Harbor, she knew little. But she knows enough to sink to her knees upon seeing you, worshipped as your kind are by these people. The Ringdoms were far away and more likely to enslave these people then assist them, runaways that so many of them are. So they turned to the only other power for help. The AI, and thus you, as (colour: purple)[Emissary.] Mother guides daughter to her feet as you observe, speaking quietly, intensely. Warnings, no doubt. They may deal with your (colour: purple)[Master], but they never trusted. You can see the fear in the girl's eyes as her mother clasps her once more on the shoulder, then turns to leave. [[You're left alone with her, as the daughter removes her clothes.->Dealer5]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/HmP2EeN.png" width="30%" height="30%"> She trembles at your touch, almost awestruck by how tender it proves to be. So many thought your kind to be cruel, and you *could* be. But not always. Stepping up behind you pull the daughter closer, until her pale flesh meets the utter black of your Isolation Laminate. She coos at the sensation of your all but frictionless fingertips running along her bared skin, tracing her shoulders as you slowly work downwards. At her waist your hands separate, one hand following the curve of her rear while the other slips around her hips, to the meeting of her tights. "Please, don't..." her words are bitten off by an equally pinched moan as you enter her, your fingers working with precision and deft skill. Gently you guide her towards her Mother's bed, and is there you keep her, utilizing the hardpoints built into the furniture upon her. She is without improvement, and could never take the sort of sensations you have been trained to endure, but you do give her a taste. A tantalizing, yet ever so fleeting demonstration of what your kind could do. She climaxes again and again, sometimes pleading for you to stop, other times begging for more. Eventually its exhaustion that ends her time with you, and its with the coming dawn that you finally rise from her side. You leave her there, asleep and chained spread-eagle upon the bed, but not before stopping at the roughly hewn table nearby. There you produce a rectangle of pure black, glossy as your suit, upon which words are embossed. A Black Card. An invitation. An adventure, for it would require the daughter to travel far. North, across the Badlands, through the lichen farms, into the Ringdoms proper. To one called Aekora, to a hotel by the name of *Diarch's Choice...* [[As you leave Red Harbor, your inserts pulse with rewarding bliss.->Ending]]

Sealed within laminate, you hand finds nothing but more smooth, glossy material. But the base of the insert installed within the other Daemon is evident, and by kneading the palm of your hand against it you provide the pleasure it so clearly craved. Your inserts purr as a reward, even as another of your sisters in abject slavery provides much the same, her hand between your legs, your hips thrusting forward to further the effort. Your shared (colour: purple)[Master] worked you all like puppets, of course. Bringing you together here, allowing you to play and tease and cum. That you are not allowed to touch yourself, unless given permission, had been the very first lesson your Isolation Laminate had enforced. It had also proven to be the most painful, despite the myriad of shocks you've been subjected to, and the long periods of bondage you've endured. As a Daemon, you know nothing but arousal. But it did give you these moments, fleeting as they were, where you *think* you're allowed choices. Small ones, related only to sensuality. Perhaps the AI thought you provided the most pleasure by mixing its control with your instincts. Or perhaps you merely fell into an unusually broad margin of error in that instance. [[Either way, you climax in unison with the other Daemon.->DaeEx3C]]

All of you are shapely, careful control and modification having pushed you to the ideal the AIs sought in its slaves. Your corsets help as well, supporting and furthering the rounded mounds of your breasts, hardened nipples visible through the Isolation Laminate. Chest to chest with another, you wrap your hands around it, knowing its inserts purred with a reward as immediate as your own. Sensuality and submission were always rewarded. Your shared (colour: purple)[Master] worked you all like puppets, of course. Bringing you together here, allowing you to play and tease and cum. That you are not allowed to touch yourself, unless given permission, had been the very first lesson your Isolation Laminate had enforced. It had also proven to be the most painful, despite the myriad of shocks you've been subjected to, and the long periods of bondage you've endured. As a Daemon, you know nothing but arousal. But it did give you these moments, fleeting as they were, where you *think* you're allowed choices. Small ones, related only to sensuality. Perhaps the AI thought you provided the most pleasure by mixing its control with your instincts. Or perhaps you merely fell into an unusually broad margin of error in that instance. [[Either way, you climax in unison with the other Daemon.->DaeEx3C]]

Hours later, you stand within a maelstrom, laminate fingers working closed a heavy lock. A dust storm had rolled in from the South, a common enough occurrence in the Badlands. Your mask already filtered the air, preventing you from inhaling the particulates that swirl in the ruddy haze, but you can feel the cold. Such storms were as much ice as dust itself, this close to the pole, and your Isolation Laminate did not provide full protection from the discomfort. It *could*, of course. You do not doubt that. It just doesn't. One of the other Daemons is suspended before you upon the rock wall, arms and legs spread. You rise, having just secured the last restraint around its ankle. At its side is a 2nd of your obsidian sisters, your instructions having been clear: to lock them here. You have not questioned, and they submitted immediately. Why? That was not yours to know. Instead you and the other Daemon still free leave, each in a different direction. Yours is South still, as it has been since you left the equatorial region. Ever South... [[Towards the pole.->DaeEx3]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/9l8QZNZ.png" width="30%" height="30%"> (set: $Gear to 20) Looking into the mirror of your boudoir, you apply the last of the gloss to your dress. And it truly is *yours*, in a way most Torean laminate could not be claimed. It had not been printed from a Wardrobe Device, one more blueprint shared throughout the world. Your Master had ordered this one especially for you, to perfecting measurements, hand-crafted by the Glamoursmiths of Tarekai. Of course you had not *met* those measurements upon that initial ordering, months ago, but a strict diet and constant exercise had prepared you for this day. Your day, your Master's day... your wedding. It was an offworlder's ceremony, in truth, but Master Tenyon hailed from the same stars as you did. And this would be symbolic. Just as your union would symbolize the galaxy beyond, as offworlders both, so too would it represent Torei-- by your slavery, and submission. Thus the fusion ceremony and procedures, and your bare throat. Reach up, your fingers glide against the bare flesh there. After so long in a collar, it felt strange to be without a collar. A very temporary situation, of course, but still. A knock at the door behind you draws your attention back, and shifting your corset once more you turn. "Are you... ready, Miss?" The voice is that of Jakobs, your Master's attendant. He's a freeman, but the mere fact that your Master kept a male as a servant spoke to his wealth. It would be Jakobs who would be giving you away. [["Yes, sir."->WifeEnd4]]

He enters, white chains looped over an outstretched arm, but his attention is on you alone. "You look... beautiful," the man concludes, staring openly. Approaching, he uses his free hand to direct you in a small twirl, getting the full effect of your dress. "*Very* good," he notes. "Although I cannot imagine that corset is comfortable, hm? I cannot imagine wearing it for..." he checks the clock on the wall. "...what will be fourteen hours, or so. Which does remind me, we should not tarry." Jakobs shifts the forearm burdened with alabaster restraints. "Shall I?" [["Of course, Sir."->WifeEnd5]]

Four cuffs, two for your wrists, two for your biceps. Guiding your hands behind your back, Jakobs secures them, a bit of time needed to properly align the gleaming chains that crisscross in an intricate pattern between them. By the time he is done, snapping the final lock closed, your every movement induces a quiet symphony of chains rattling. "Come then," the servant intones, grabbing the bit of chain intended for just such use. Standing at your side, the leverage it provides allows him to direct you with ease. His other hand reaches up, moving your veil into place before your face. The sheer laminate hardly obstructs your features, but represented another offworlder custom. [[You're led from your rooms.->WifeEnd6]]

Much of the preparation that follows is a blur of activity around you. Slaves and free attendants move quickly through their assorted tasks, but you are required only to wait for your ordained cue. It comes with a crescendo from the music in the Great Hall of your Master's estate, and the opening of the doors before you by a pair of liveried slaves. Jakobs moves immediately, and thus you do as well, his firm hand upon your restraints guiding you forward down the central hall. The guests that turn to regard you are a veritable who's who of Arendesh Ringdom's societal elite, a display of your Master's prestige and power as grand as the richly furnished Hall itself. Slaves are spaced along the exterior walls, another demonstration of wealth. Yet despite the grandeur, the majority of your focus is down upon the floor. Your heels are tall, your dress daring you to forget how restrictive its cut is, threatening to trip at any possible moment. Jakobs would have caught you, of course, but with all eyes upon you a stumble would have been humiliating. Unacceptable. So you keep your eyes down, submissively, as you're led up to the dias. [[Master Tenyon awaits.->WifeEnd77]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/5vPIPvj.png" width="30%" height="30%"> Your owner, your soon to be husband, is only a few years older than yourself. That surprised many that met with him, but Master Tenyon (who went without a forename in the traditional Arendesh manner) had built his empire upon embracing the unexpected. A self-made man born on a backwater in the Vawking Cluster, he had come to Torei upon reaching adulthood. You've never heard *why* exactly, but his embrace of Torei's culture-- and the unique opportunity it provided for a man with ambition-- had been immediate. Tenyon Imports had been built upon the untapped market deeper within Torei for offworlder goods, which still struggle to disperse far beyond the Way Up itself. The more antipodal Ringdoms being deeply conservative remained part of the problem, but so too had been a lack of interest from the offworlders themselves. Torei remained such a fresh frontier, at least when it came to trading, and there was wealth enough for most where it was easy to travel. But Master Tenyon had taken risks early, building contacts far from the usual centers of trade. Today his goods flowed steadily into the heart of the planet, even if it remained somewhat of a trickle compared to the glut that rained down upon the Mountainous Ringdoms. Still, that success had brought him immense wealth, enough to own hundreds of slaves-- including yourself. As you step up upon the dias, Jakobs finally releasing you, and you can seen your Master smiling. Its slight, that shift of the firm line that is his lips, but there. His eyes are for you alone, although all of the collected hundreds here are now upon you, drinking you in. [[You follow the program, and kneel.->Wife8]]

With your arms still bound, and your dress so demanding, it takes a bit of effort. But you manage with grace, and your Master begins. This is not a wedding of equals, after all, and he is not here to accept your hand-- bound as it is. No, Master Tenyon stands above you to *claim* you, publicly, in the Arendesh and more generally Torean manner. His speech is not long, nor are you required to speak. Only to submit, which-- of course-- you do. The collar comes first, rose-gold and seamless. When he puts it around your neck it is warm, as if he had been holding it to dispel the chill before sliding it into place upon your throat. His hands are gentle as he does so, but firm. Next comes the gag, a panel design in white with carefully tailored lace-like designs upon it to match your dress. Torean bonding ceremonies often thought it proper for a bride to remain silent upon her wedding day, so that she could better consider the new position she found herself in. And you are no exception. When your Master finally concludes, helping you to your feet, you arise a new woman. *His* woman, in a manner far beyond that of a mere slave. You occupy now a position of intense prestige, offworlder in nature but infused so heavily with Torean values as to be something else altogether. Master Tenyon sat atop a blended court riding a new edge in offworlder-Torean relations, and you will be his most cherished possession therein. [[And you kiss.->Wife9]]

His embrace is strong and commanding, but the kiss he places upon the laminate panel covering mouth is gentle. Your eyes meet and he holds your gaze, even as he sweeps you back, inducing a dramatic pose for the vid-cams that flicker to capture the moment. Its only when Master Tenyon releases you that you realize you had been holding your breath. The rest of the wedding is equally a blur and tribulation. Still bound and gagged you're not much of a conversation partner, but your husband keeps you at his side for all that follows. Introductions and pleasantries with every guest, the reception, the tours of the estate's gardens late into the night-- hour after hour passes, and you are simply expected to endure, despite the stricture of your dress. The corset especially proves onerous, its sharp bite leaving you abdomen sore long before fireworks cap the party. That left only the final piece to the event: *the bedding.* [[Reduced to perhaps a dozen, you follow on your leash to the master bedroom.->Wife10]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/fgT4JXc.png" width="30%" height="30%"> Led to your wedding bed, you find another woman waiting, her laminate sheer, her full lips pulled into an inviting smirk. You're not the only purchase Master Tenyon made from Celeste Academy. His Doll, and that is the only name he gave her, would of course be participating in any carnal adventure with your Master. It made sense, her presence demonstrated again for those who now line the bedchamber's walls your Master's prestige. The only thing more expensive than a fully trained Torean slave-wife was a fully trained Academy Doll, after all. As Torean tradition demanded your arms remain bound, but you are freed from most of your other garments as you take to the bed. There you service your new husband and Master for several hours, the small crowd observing your skill and experience as much as his own. By the coming of dawn you're left exhausted, as is the Doll, but one final event caps your wedding-- when Master Tenyon fits around your waist his second gift, following that of your collar. A steel chastity belt. Unlike the Doll, who could be used by guests, you are your Master's alone-- and he will be ensuring that fact by keeping you belted at all times. [[And your first day as a proper Torean slave-wife ends...->Ending]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/88uSNNU.jpg" width="35%" height="35%"> (set: $Gear to 16) Your break ends as it began, with a sharp twinge that threatens to evolve towards a proper shock. There is no point of origin, it rides your nerves from toes to throat, inescapable. You could only avoid it by returning to your feet, which you do, the heavy pack locked to your back shifting uncomfortably as you do. Upon the HUD of your mask the route you had been working on is projected before you, as well as the familiar command: *Get to work, Courier #381* You take a deep breath and begin walking, both of which prove difficult. Like every Courier owned by *Full Protocol Couriers*, you wear the traditional uniform couriers engaged in full protocol work have worn on Torei for decades: a fully encapsulating laminate outfit, including a heavy duty opaque mask, and full body harness. The latter anchored the sealed pack upon your back, spreading out its weight somewhat, while the mask ensured you could travel through any dust storm while also preventing your divulging of your route or packages to anyone, slave or free. The nobility of Torei still disdained technological communication, a lingering holdover from the general fear of the polar AIs, and the lack of available technology before the Way Up. And thus full protocol couriers, such as yourself, were a popular method of sending important documents and letters in a manner that guaranteed their confidentiality. Even today, with *glass* devices becoming more widely available, the proper way to sign a business deal or send an invitation remained couriers such as yourself. [[Few of the nobility care about the woman locked inside your suit, of course.->CourEnd4]]

*Route latency detected. Deploying motivation.* The flashing words upon your HUD push your meandering focus on Torean customs to your route, but you're not quick enough. A shock follows, triggered by your implants and piercings, that nearly sends you to your knees. Your moan is lost to the gag between your teeth, much less the mask however, and achieves little. Yet a second motivator is provided moments later, your fully regulated oxygen supply suddenly growing sweet as you inhale. A Torean Aphrodisiac that you've come to know well is pumped in, and you have no choice but to breath deeply, your heart fluttering as it burns brightly within your chest. You want to reach down, to play with yourself, but you know that would only bring about another shock. So you merely walk on, at the company-standard pace, gritting your teeth in frustration. Your suit was devious like that, providing a carrot so soon after the proverbial stick. [[Where were you going again?->CourEnd5]]

You flee. Damn your deal, damn the consequences, damn Torei itself! The hallways and passages connecting the buildings throughout the downtown provide you an easy enough path to follow, one that did not risk breaking curfew, but you hardly notice. Your eyes remain forward, checking only the signs that point you onward. Somewhere along the way you pass Corinth, missing each other in the crowd by mere moments, but your haste overrides everything else. [[To the Elevator!->WayUpTravel3]]

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. The trip is undertaken in a blink of your gleaming eyes. 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. 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? The final customs checkpoint looms ahead of you, words painted above the series of exits making that point clear: EXITING SOVEREIGN TOREAN TERRITORY. [[You move towards the line that led to the Way Up itself.->WayUpTravel4]]

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 your very last chance to make for your deal. [[Enter the line.->EarlyLeave]] [[Turn back for now.->EarlyLeaveFail]]

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 $debt 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," the frowner grumbles. "Another one? Just give her the fine, I don't want to do the paperwork for the sweeper teams anyway." Her compatriot, the smiler, merely pulls her shock baton. "Don't you move," she commands. "It may not feel like it, but you're *really* lucky. What you just tried to do, (if: $Slave is true)[attempting to flee Torei while registered under the slave codes,](else:)[attempting to flee Torei while holding debtor status,] should get you arrested. But we're going to go easy on you and give a... let's call it a 500 credit fine, hm?" [["What! That's not fair!"->FailNotFair]] [["I... I understand, Officer."->Fail500]] ](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."->PassNo]] [["Absolutely."->PassYes]]]

You make your way back, once more boarding the free shuttle to return to Grand Aekora's neon-lit downtown. Your aborted attempt to leave has eaten away most of your time, but if you hurry you should still be able to make your fated meeting. Deep in the back of your mind, you can only hope everything will turn out well. [[Torei pulls you slowly into a deeper embrace...->ClubTravel]]

"Silly girl," the officer grins. "Let's make that fine 750 credits. Is that fair now? Now get your ass out of my line, and don't you come back! Next time we won't be so kind, you hear me?" (set: $debt to it - 750) You move where she directs you, an empty passage through the barriers to return to the Customs Enclave floor. And there you drift for a few minutes, a fish cut loose and without direction. *What would you do now?* There is only one option left, and you know it. The club to which you were invited, the deal that you do not remember. It remained your sole chance of righting your situation, of perhaps providing the means to escape Torei still. [[You make your way back towards the entrance.->EarlyLeaveFail]]

"Good girl," the officer grins. "Now get your ass out of my line, and don't you come back! Next time we won't be so kind, you hear me?" (set: $debt to it - 500) You move where she directs you, an empty passage through the barriers to return to the Customs Enclave floor. And there you drift for a few minutes, a fish cut loose and without direction. *What would you do now?* There is only one option left, and you know it. The club to which you were invited, the deal that you do not remember. It remained your sole chance of righting your situation, of perhaps providing the means to escape Torei still. [[You make your way back towards the entrance.->EarlyLeaveFail]]

The first Officer laughs. "Blunt, but hey, it certainly ain't for everyone. 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...->EarlyLeave2]]

The first Officer laughs. "Doesn't everyone? 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...->EarlyLeave2]]

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 28)(set: $Status to 7) [[You make your way towards the space elevator.->EarlyGoodEnding]]

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. 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... [['Ignorance, eternally bliss.'->Ending]]

=><= <img src="https://i.imgur.com/yh2Q6BK.png"> Hotel Branded Hobble Chain: *marked with the diamond-shaped logo of Diarch's Choice Hotels, this hobble consists of a pair of locking laminate cuffs connected by a chain running between them. At perhaps six inches, the chain restricts your gait significantly, requiring you to take prim little steps to the metallic clink of the hobble itself. The locks appear to be time-limited.*

=><= <img src="https://i.imgur.com/5744pPZ.png" width="30%" height="30%"> Nipple Piercings: *a pair of barbell style steel piercings. They tug gently upon your clothing, and their mere presence is mildly stimulating. Somewhat embarrassingly, the tight nature of laminate clothing makes your pierced nature very obvious.*

=><= <img src="https://i.imgur.com/gh59YMk.png" width="30%" height="30%"> Hotel Branded Armbinder: *also known as a monoglove, this particular device is fully laminate and anchors itself with a set of straps that wrap your shoulders and cross above your chest. The D-ring at the tip provides an easy means of restraint, and the stricture naturally forces your chest out. You're completely helpless with this device upon you. The locks appear to be time-limited.*

=><= <img src="https://i.imgur.com/gh59YMk.png" width="30%" height="30%"> Time Locked Armbinder: *also known as a monoglove, this particular device is fully laminate and anchors itself with a set of straps that wrap your shoulders and cross above your chest. The D-ring at the tip provides an easy means of restraint, and the stricture naturally forces your chest out. You're completely helpless with this device upon you. The locks are time-limited.*

=><= <img src="https://i.imgur.com/DTfY2yc.png"> Isabella's Collar: *a heavy-duty collar intended for permanent wear, it features no apparent lock or operating mechanism-- a Wardrobe Device is necessary to remove it.* Property of Isabella Naram-Sin *is inscribed upon the tap that hangs from the front, beside the linkage ring affixed there.*

=><= <img src="https://i.imgur.com/Jlb50ID.png"> Collar of the Primrose: *a heavy-duty collar intended for permanent wear, this thick steel design is integrated into the regalia of your Order. A magnetic lock at the back provides access, but you do not have the key. Mounted hardpoints at front and rear are provided for ease of restraint.*

=><= <img src="https://i.imgur.com/OWJQvyB.png" width="50%" height="50%"> Septum Ring: *Like every other member of your Order, you are fitted with a heavy septum piercing. Rendered in steel, its weight is a constant reminder of your vows. Its gentle tapping against your muzzle is somehow reassuring.*

=><= <img src=https://i.imgur.com/TbEgqYZ.jpg" width="50%" height="50%"> Isabella's Ring Gag: *a heavy laminate locking ring gag, holding your mouth open. It is mounted upon a laminate harness that snaps onto the inbuilt mag-locks of your mask. You cannot help but drool occasionally when wearing it, and have no hope of removal.*

=><= <img src=https://i.imgur.com/Vmt1Ltm.png" width="50%" height="50%"> Oral Cock Insert: *a heavy rigid facsimile cock, veined for your pleasure and experience. It is mounted to a simple magnetic base that can be snapped to your ring gag, after the cock itself has been inserted. It fills your mouth completely, and despite lacking locks you have no means to remove it.*

=><= <img src="https://i.imgur.com/xKXZ75H.png" width="50%" height="50%"> Bolero Straitjacket: *a heavy black laminate straijacket, in the bolero style that covers your shoulders while leaving breasts uncovered. It is anchored on your collar, and features thick straps at your wrists and between your breasts to restrain your arms. Bondage mitts at the end of each sleeve ensure your helplessness.*

=><= <img src="https://i.imgur.com/rgpF9IA.png" width="50%" height="50%"> WET SLUT Thigh Bands: *issued by an Officer of the Ministry of Truants, these bands are primarily black laminate. The Ministry's logo is stamped on each side, but its the bright word written on each that stand out so clearly:* WET *and* SLUT.

=><= <img src="https://i.imgur.com/rgpF9IA.png" width="50%" height="50%"> FUCK TOY Thigh Bands: *issued by Club Lush as a promotional item, these bands are primarily red laminate. In bright white the words* FUCK *and* TOY *are written upon them. They're impossible to miss by any observer.*

=><= <img src="https://i.imgur.com/jw2GOHr.png" width="50%" height="50%"> Club Lush Plugs: *a set of thick laminate phalli, one each for your front and rear entrances. With every step you feel them shift within you, and at times they startle away with a few moments of quiet vibration. You can feel a bit of your own natural lubrication running down your leg in excitement.*

=><= <img src="https://i.imgur.com/GYD8t8q.png" width="50%" height="50%"> Club Lush Boots: *part of Club Lush's promotional efforts, these boots are designed to keep you perpetually on your toes. The posture required to wear them naturally thrust your chest and rear out, and you are utterly incapable of finding a comfortable means of standing in them. They do wonders for your legs, though.*

=><= Club Lush Clit Piercing: *a ring shaped piercing of your most sensitive flesh, adorned with a thicker ball-shaped portion to further the stimulation achieved with each step. It is also synced with the Club's punishment, reward, and directional systems that are available for use by any guest.*

=><= <img src="https://i.imgur.com/Jlb50ID.png" width="50%" height="50%"> Club Lush Collar: *a tight white collar, coordinated with the rest of your uniform. A seamless magnetic lock at the rear provides access, but you lack access to a key. Upon the tag near the front is an inscription:* Property of Club Lush.

=><= Daemon Control Suite: *the inner workings of an Isolation Laminate are a mystery even to you, sealed as you are within. (colour: purple)[You wriggle helplessly, submitting completely to the stimulation and command.] But you are relatively certain that a series of implants and piercings connect you directly with the suit systems, monitoring your every biometric, tweaking and teasing them as necessary. Most prominent are the massive set of inserts between your legs and in your rear, their function and capacity almost limitless.*

=><= <img src="https://i.imgur.com/7Lkt4v0.jpg" width="50%" height="50%"> Daemon Collar: *unlike most of your Isolation Laminate, you're relatively sure the collar is a simple piece of machined steel, forged in the heart of the polar AIs. You can feel its weight in your every waking moment, and know it to be seamless and featureless. Strangely, while glimpsing your obsidian form in a mirror, you* can *see numbers in a sickly yellow color glowing on the side: #200426.*

=><= <img src="https://i.imgur.com/BywQYCp.jpg" width="50%" height="50%"> Academy Collar: *a simple band of laminate coated steel, your collar is seamless, requiring a wardrobe device to remove. Regardless dress code requires you wear it at all times, and you lack the access rights to order its removal anyway. An o-ring at the front provides an easy mount for leashes.*

=><= Subdermal Slave Chip: *a tracking device embedded beneath the skin of your wrist, such implements are a very common feature on Torei. A simple scan will reveal your enslaved nature even if you were somehow to escape your circumstances, allowing your timely return to whomever owns you in the future.*

=><= <img src="https://i.imgur.com/OWJQvyB.png" width="50%" height="50%"> Slave Septum Piercing: *a ring of steel embedded in your septum, this simple improvement has a variety of uses to a Torean eye. Mostly commonly it is used to mark slaves, such wear being unpopular among free citizens, but it can also serve as a useful (if rather painful) mounting point for a leash.*

=><= Slave Clit Piercing: *a ring shaped piercing of your most sensitive flesh, adorned with a thicker ball-shaped portion to further the stimulation achieved with each step or movement.*

=><= <img src="https://i.imgur.com/DTfY2yc.png" width="50%" height="50%"> Corinth's Slave Collar: *rendered in gleaming dark laminate backed by a core of thick steel, your collar marks you readily as one of Torei's enslaved multitudes. Careful engravings allow the silver of the steel beneath to shine through, spelling out:* Property of Mistress Sylvette. You do not have access to the magnetic key.

=><= <img src="https://i.imgur.com/gh59YMk.png" width="50%" height="50%"> Counterfeit Doll Binder: *a heavy laminate armbinder, this device cruelly forces your arms back and behind you. Straps across your shoulders and chest anchor it, but heavy locks ensure you are not capable of removing it regardless. That said, the mere fact that the laminate is so thick speaks to its counterfeit nature: properly expensive designs are often quite thin, yet no less restrictive.*

=><= <img src="https://i.imgur.com/L52B6uP.png" width="50%" height="50%"> Counterfeit Doll Gag: *a laminate ball gag, of the trainer style to ensure you cannot remove it during transport. Seated behind your teeth it forces your lips apart, and reduces any sound you attempt to a moaned mmmmmgh!*

=><= <img src="https://i.imgur.com/7nCijQl.pngg"> Vibe Wand: *a simple soft vibrating head upon an easily adjustable handle, this particular unit is intended for long term use. The sensation of it pressed against your laminate covered lowered lips is frustrating in that it feels so* good *yet never allows you to climax.*

"By the Thrall, I think she's getting off in there," one of your porters notes, your limited viewport far more observable to the men who are not bound in recessed laminate padding. "That's an Academy Doll for you," his compatriot notes simply. "Thinking with their cunts is all they know." "All *I* know is that they're apparently worth every credit." The more steadfast man grunts. "We make good money, but nowhere near *that* much. She will be some noble's toy, you know that." The younger sounding one, you recognize he's the one carrying the portion of the box within which rested your feet, laughs. "Guess so," yet he looks into your box, making eye contact. "Excited to be a little fuck toy?" [[Nod enthusiastically.->DollEnd7Nod]] [[Arch your back invitingly.->DollEnd7Arch]]

Your restraints allow little movement, but you do manage to shift your head into a quick nod. The man's eyes light up in response. "Too bad you're locked in there in two dozen different ways, or I'd..." "Lose your job," his partner intervenes. "Let's just get the slut loaded onto the sled." Having crossed what you can only tell is an open yard, they carefully position your box upon the flatbed of what you imagine to be a vehicle of some sort. Several other packages already occupy the space, but from your extremely limited vantage you don't see any other slaves-- and certainly there are no other dolls in attendance. The older porter goes to start the vehicle while the younger man lingers, filling out a form of some sort with a stylus upon his glass device. You nevertheless catch him glancing your way more than once. [[Leave him be.->DollEnd8Leave]] [[Entice him further!->DollEnd8Entice]]

Your restraints allow little movement, but you do manage to press your chest forward, arching your back against the straps pinning you within the box. The man's eyes light up in response. "Too bad you're locked in there in two dozen different ways, or I'd..." "Lose your job," his partner intervenes. "Let's just get the slut loaded onto the sled." Having crossed what you can only tell is an open yard, they carefully position your box upon the flatbed of what you imagine to be a vehicle of some sort. Several other packages already occupy the space, but from your extremely limited vantage you don't see any other slaves-- and certainly there are no other dolls in attendance. The older porter goes to start the vehicle while the younger man lingers, filling out a form of some sort with a stylus upon his glass device. You nevertheless catch him glancing your way more than once. [[Leave him be.->DollEnd8Leave]] [[Entice him further!->DollEnd8Entice]]

Leaving the man to his work, you close your eyes, settling further into your bondage-laden box. One of the many lessons you had been taught by the Academy had focused upon the need to know when to push a partner for action, and when to let them come to you. After counting off a minute you open your eyes to find the man staring openly and your laminate covered body, although his gaze snaps immediately to yours upon noticing you again are looking. [[You wink at him.->DollWink]]

Pressing against your restraints, you wriggle in your box, moaning lewdly as you feel your nipple piercings pull against the laminate of your outfit. The man notices immediately, even if he hesitates to look your way directly. Your training had covered how to prove alluring to women and men alike and it does not fail you now, as he does eventually look your way. There your eyes meet. [[Wink at him.->DollWink]]

Your eyelashes are long and sultry, emphasizing the quick wink and smile you give him, the latter around the ball still wedged firmly between your teeth. The man flushes a bit then turns, hopping off the rear of the truck in a huff. You're left in his wake, alone once more, pleased with yourself. As a fully trained Doll, you could not turn off that latent sensuality if you tried. You're not given another chance with the man however, as you're transported from the Academy Campus to begin your trek to your new home and Master. How would this *Tenyon* be? You know from your training that he is an offworlder, but very Torean in nature, even having gone as far as to take up Torean naming practices-- apparently the Ringdom in which you would live only utilized a surname for nobility. Thus Tenyon, with nothing preceding it. Momentarily your thoughts are interrupted when you're transferred from sled to the promised train however. Through your thin-lam window you catch glimpses of passengers boarding, but you and a host of other slaves are instead loaded into the undercarriage-- a dark, humid hold beneath the cars themselves. Restraints along the floor are utilized on those who are not packed for shipment, while you merely require a few straps to hook your box to the floor. Eventually the loading is completed and the door closes, leaving you in the inky dark, surrounded only by the sound of other slaves. Some moan in terror, other ecstasy-- none speak. Gags are required in slave storage, after all. You merely look upward, realizing in that moment that this would be your experience for the next *three weeks.* [[And your stim array purrs, soon forcing you to join the moaning chorus.->Doll10]]

Throughout your long trip, you catch only glimpses of the world outside. Sometimes the car stops, and the cargo hatch opening nearly blinds you given your adaption to the dark. The one time your box is actually pulled out, two Truant Officers peering at you, most of your time is spent merely blinking away the blindspots. But you manage, and apparently pass the customs inspection-- your box is stamped with a mark of inspection, and you're returned to a train hold. You're incapable of telling if it were the same one, but of course you hardly care. Throughout it all your stim array purrs, and you dream of your mysterious new owner using your waiting holes. Thus three weeks pass, and with that comes your final arrival deep in the antipodes of Torei. You're far from the Way Up, carried into a Ringdom few offworlders made the effort to travel to. Yet your first view of Arendesh Ringdom is perhaps disappointing, if you were expecting some strange alien land-- the Ringdom occupies the same equatorial belt of habitation as Aekora, and thus much of the foliage you see is familiar. It is far more rural however, lacking the sleek buildings and congested sidewalks of a mountainous Ringdom. Another transport takes you along winding roads through a massive gate, where you're then carried into what proves to be an expansive manse. You see little of it, of course, given your limited viewport and honest lack of interest in decoration. But you notice the occasional passing slave, and note with perceptive eyes the occasional hardpoints scattered throughout the home-- small nods allowing for bondage to occur most anywhere. Eventually you're deposited in a bedroom, the massive bedframe also quite Torean-- their culture put emphasize on bedroom exploits after all, having an appropriate stage was expected. There you're left for several more hours however, alone except for a curious soubrette who looks in on you around noon-- until nightfall. [[You wake from a drowsy sleep to see a man entering.->Doll11]]

With a tug on your leash, Isabella leads you out of the terminal and into what you're surprised to find is a series of interconnected pathways. The last rays of light are slipping away, and with them the chance for most women to travel, given Aekora's curfew laws. But by linking the shops and clubs and bars of downtown Grand Aekora, the local businesses have cleverly avoided that issue-- for walking down the glass lined boulevards allows everyone to remain technically inside. With that extended liberty comes crowds packing most 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. They're the rare examples of offworld textiles still being used, or gawk at those passing by. Given the strictness of your bondage its the latter that seem to focus on you most intently, staring as a bit of drool escapes your gags to land upon your laminated breasts. Native Toreans hardly give you a second glance, merely filing you away as one more slave among so many others being led by her owner. And Isabella does lead, setting a quick pace marked by the harsh snap of her steel-lined stilettos upon the tiled or occasionally paved floors. She holds her hand down to her side, the loop of your leash twisted around her wrist and gripped by her gloved hand. Weaving through the crowds, she rarely looks back, and only then to gauge how hard to tug to keep you moving. [[You have no choice but to follow dutifully.->IsClubTrav2]]

By the time Isabella finally stops some twenty minutes later you're breathing heavily through your nose, hips wriggling from the sensation of your plugs shifting with every step taken in the quick march. The street upon which you stand is covered like all the rest, but its the building jutting out before you that draws your attention. 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. Isabella of course makes that way immediately, dragging you along behind. [[Those in line glare as you and your Mistress skip to the front.->IsClubTrav3]]

To your surprise the bouncer doesn't immediately demand you return to the back of the line, and instead looks Isabella up and down. A moment passes, then two. "Naram-Sin?" The crimson lips of your Mistress curl into a smile, the neon surrounding you glinting off her glasses. "Good thing you didn't say Sargon. Would you be so kind as to...?" The man leaps into action, a long muscled arm pushing open the door behind as he stands aside. Isabella steps forward immediately, but the bouncer intervenes with his other hand. "Just as a warning, Mistress, there *is* a Sargon attending tonight." Isabella's smile pulls even tighter, sharp enough to cut glass, but she doesn't respond. Instead she merely nods, and the man clears the way completely, but not without putting in a last word. "Make sure to keep your slave on a leash, though." He reaches to your rear as you pass, fondling you briefly through the slick laminate of your suit. [[Sound indignant! "Mmmgh!"->IsClubTrav4A]] [[Mewl happily. "Mmmgh..."->IsClubTrav4B]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/DZBI1bG.png" width="80%" height="80%"> "Hush," Isabella commands from her position before you, leading into the neon maw of Club Lush proper. "Your purpose is the pleasure of others now, my slave." 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. 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. Your heeled boots put you on display as much as anyone else, the posture required of them setting of your suit brilliantly-- which gleams like an obsidian ocean, each blast of color from the club itself running down your curvaceous form. Your bolero style straitjacket renders you incapable of much resistance, while your gags deny speech-- while your plugs shift uncomfortably as your muscles contract, squeezing them within you. You hardly recognize yourself, or how you feel... knowing only that altogether it makes you so very wet. [[Gaze long into the abyss...->MeetCherishIsa]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/DZBI1bG.png" width="80%" height="80%"> "I see my adjustments to your suit are helping you adjust to your new role," Isabella notes from her position before you, leading into the neon maw of Club Lush proper. "Your purpose is the pleasure of others now, after all, my slave." 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. 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. Your heeled boots put you on display as much as anyone else, the posture required of them setting of your suit brilliantly-- which gleams like an obsidian ocean, each blast of color from the club itself running down your curvaceous form. Your bolero style straitjacket renders you incapable of much resistance, while your gags deny speech-- while your plugs shift uncomfortably as your muscles contract, squeezing them within you. You hardly recognize yourself, or how you feel... knowing only that altogether it makes you so very wet. [[Gaze long into the abyss...->MeetCherishIsa]]

As you look into the mirror Isabella turns, coming up alongside you. Your leash goes momentarily limp, hanging down between your breasts until it bends, leading to the arm that your Mistress wraps around your corseted waist. Her other aims higher, the fingertips of her hand landing lightly beneath your chin. Such a soft touch nevertheless induces you to raise your head without a command ever being spoken, while your black-clad form is pressed against by your Mistress' similarly colored outfit. Where yours is an exercise in submission, however, Isabella remains an image of Torean domination personified. She wears it so naturally, as if such aggressive sensuality was her natural state, coming as easily as breathing. "I must underline the fact that I am *quite* pleased you took up my offer, unorthodox as it may have seemed," your Mistress purrs, meeting your gaze through the mirror. "What you think about things no longer *needs* to matter, but I am curious if you're enjoying being reduced... to what you are. **Mine.**" [[Nod your head. Yes...->MeetCherishYYY]] [[Shake your head. No!->MeetCherishNNN]]

"The trick," Isabella muses, her eyes twinkling brightly, "is that I really didn't need to ask. I could just unzip you right now, pull out your front insert, and watch as you drip all over the ground. Like the little slut I *knew* you were, the moment I saw you in that hotel." Her smile is deep with knowing. She's right, of course. "There is no shame in it. Slaves cannot help themselves. That's something you offworlders always struggle to learn. Until they're locked into laminate, and cumming their brains out..." [[You cannot help but feel there is a promise in her eyes in that moment.->MeetCIsa3]]

"Strange..." Isabella muses, her eyes twinkling brightly. "Because I think if I unzipped you right now, and pulled out your front insert, you would drip all over the ground... isn't that right?" Her smile is deep with knowing. She's right, of course. "There is no shame in it. Slaves cannot help themselves. That's something you offworlders always struggle to learn. Until they're locked into laminate, and cumming their brains out..." [[You cannot help but feel there is a promise in her eyes in that moment.->MeetCIsa3]]

<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. Isabella turns her head to regard her, while you see that she 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. You recognize it from your time with Isabella as a very well practiced Torean reverence. "I saw you observing yourself in the mirror," she explains, speaking to Isabella alone as she smooths out her skirt and petticoats, "and I just had to say it, Mistress. You wear laminate well, as does your slave. 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. "Tell me of your services," Isabella commands. [[And Cherish obeys.->MeetCIsa4]]

"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 Isabella's side, allowing her white gloved hand to be more easily followed as she uses it to direct both your gazes. "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 I have been made aware that you are a Naram-Sin, Mistress? If you wish, it would be my pleasure to seat you there immediately." Isabella glances about, then produces your identification card. The SLAVE stamp along the top still looks fresh. "First things first, I believe there is someone here expecting my slave. You will tell me if this is true. [[Cherish takes the card.->MeetCIsa5]]

"Ah, of course! If I could borrow the 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. You note Isabella watching just as much as you do. At Cherish's 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. Obviously you are freely invited to enter our VIP area at your will, but you will need to make contact yourself." Isabella nods, sliding your ID back into her purse. "Very good. One more thing, slave. Where is the Sargon in attendance tonight?" [[Cherish tenses up just a bit.->MeetCIsa6]]

The serving girl adjusts her glasses, Torean biomedical prowess meaning they *had* to just be for decoration. Then she first indicates a woman seated primly at one of the private booths along the wall. 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 of some sort, as I--" "A scholar of *Daemons*," Isabella interrupts with a frown. "I am well aware." Cherish takes the interruption in stride, but her tone shifts to worry. "Then I would hope, Mistress, that you're aware that Club Lush certainly wishes no incidents between the ruling families of our Ringdom to occur beneath its roof? My Master is on good terms with both House Sargon and House Naram-Sin." Isabella waves away her concern without a second thought. "It is none of your concern, slave, but you needn't worry." Tugging on your leash, your Mistress leads you directly towards the seated Sargon. [[You are forced to follow.->Sargon1]]

<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 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. (set: $Isasked to false) 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 Isabella's approach, which could only mean she was ignoring you both deliberately. Unwilling to play any such game, Isabella seats herself at the table without invitation. A snapped finger pointed towards the floor is all the direction you're given. [[Take a seat on the floor.->Sargon2Fail]] [[Kneel, legs spread.->Sargon2Pass]]

Denied a proper seat at the table, as a slave, you instead move to take a similar position on the floor. Isabella interrupts you with a stern look however, her narrowed eyes promising great discomfort if you did not adjust immediately. It takes a moment, but you remember your time on the train with her-- and take a kneeling position instead, legs spread. The submissive posture marks you as one of the enslaved in attendance, a quick glance around the Club allowing you to notice a few others enduring similar treatment. Up above, Tysus finally looks to Isabella. "Naram-Sin." "Sargon." The tension is palpable, and you recognize immediately an intense hatred-- perhaps even rivalry. It smolders between them as Tysus forces the hologram before her away, leaning forward over the table to glare at Isabella more intensely. Yet your Mistress answers in a way that surprises the other woman, when she produces an object between gloved fingers: the Black Card you had found in your hotel room this morning. Immediately Tysus shifts, eyes widening. "Where did you get that?" [[Isabella's smile is predatory.->Sargon3]]

Denied a proper seat at the table, as a slave, you take a position upon the floor, kneeling with legs spread. The submissive posture marks you as one of the enslaved in attendance, a quick glance around the Club allowing you to notice a few others enduring similar treatment. Such a posture also somehow makes you even more intimately aware of the phallic intruder lodged in your rear. Up above, Tysus finally looks to Isabella. "Naram-Sin." "Sargon." The tension is palpable, and you recognize immediately an intense hatred-- perhaps even rivalry. It smolders between them as Tysus forces the hologram before her away, leaning forward over the table to glare at Isabella more intensely. Yet your Mistress answers in a way that surprises the other woman, when she produces an object between gloved fingers: the Black Card you had found in your hotel room this morning. Immediately Tysus shifts, eyes widening. "Where did you get that?" [[Isabella's smile is predatory.->Sargon3]]

"I acquired a new slave today," your Mistress explains, nonchalantly. She indicates you with a tilt of her head. "An offworlder," Tysus scoffs at that, but Isabella presses on, "who nevertheless has taken very well to our culture. She knows her place better than most Torean girls." Isabella's gaze shifts to you more directly. "Demonstrate your submission." A test, you imagine, as much as a way to prove her point to Tysus. [[Put your head to the floor, present your rear.->Sargon4Rear]] [[Press your cunt against your Mistress' leg.->Sargon4Hump]] [[Take a sharp presentation pose. Eyes down, chest out, back straight.->Sargon4Prez]]

Placing your forehead to the glossy black floor of the Club, you keep your knees spread but lift your rear to the Toreans before you. The posture pulls the laminate crossing your rear even tighter, forcing the phallus anchored to it even deeper between your cheeks-- a sensation that's furthered by the hand that lands upon you. You're not sure which of them does so, but two fingers press against the base of your insert, drilling you even harder with it. You cannot help but moan through both your gags in response, wriggling impotently. "She is certainly shapely," Tysus concludes, grudgingly giving way to Isabella's point. "But that does not explain the Black Card. There has been the sightings of a Daemon nearby, but that would mean... unless..." "It is my slave's," Isabella nods, as you retake your earlier kneeling position. She explains an even smaller portion of your story than you had given her, and you get the sense she is loathe to share even that with Tysus. But she does speak of your amnesia, of what you had originally set out to do-- and how that had all changed with the collar around your throat. As Isabella concludes, Tysus looks you over for several moments. "Pull her gag," she says, with a tone that made it more a command that a request. Isabella's brows drop as she removes her glasses. Tysus sighs, exasperated, and explains further. "Pull the girl's gag, and I will answer her questions on Daemons-- because I know you Naram-Sin are too proud to do so yourselves. So you will listen, Isabella, and perhaps learn something. Then we will discuss how to handle the situation. *Together.*" Your Mistress considers the offer for a long moment, but then reaches down. Sliding the cock insert from between your lips, she wipes it against your cheek to clean off the drool, then sets it on the table. The ring gag is next, being pulled free after being unclipped. Your jaw complains immediately soreness announcing itself as your teeth come together for the first time in over an hour. (set: $IsGag to true)(if: $Inv contains "oral cock insert")[(set: $Inv to $Inv - (a: "oral cock insert"))](if: $Inv contains "Isabella's ring gag")[(set: $Inv to $Inv - (a: "Isabella's ring gag"))] (colour: green)[Isabella's Ring Gag Removed!] (colour: green)[Oral Cock Insert Removed!] [[They both look at you expectantly.->SargonDae]]

Shuffling awkwardly upon your knees, you approach your Mistress' leg. The shiny steel of the heel and underside of her boot change to smooth laminate as it runs up her leg, and its to the latter you press your cunt. Even that slight contact shifts your vaginal insert, inducing a soft ecstasy that takes the form of a moan through both your gags, as you wriggle impotently. "She is certainly a horny thing," Tysus concludes, grudgingly giving way to Isabella's point. "But that does not explain the Black Card. There has been the sightings of a Daemon nearby, but that would mean... unless..." "It is my slave's," Isabella nods, as you retake your earlier kneeling position. She explains an even smaller portion of your story than you had given her, and you get the sense she is loathe to share even that with Tysus. But she does speak of your amnesia, of what you had originally set out to do-- and how that had all changed with the collar around your throat. As Isabella concludes, Tysus looks you over for several moments. "Pull her gag," she says, with a tone that made it more a command that a request. Isabella's brows drop as she removes her glasses. Tysus sighs, exasperated, and explains further. "Pull the girl's gag, and I will answer her questions on Daemons-- because I know you Naram-Sin are too proud to do so yourselves. So you will listen, Isabella, and perhaps learn something. Then we will discuss how to handle the situation. *Together.*" Your Mistress considers the offer for a long moment, but then reaches down. Sliding the cock insert from between your lips, she wipes it against your cheek to clean off the drool, then sets it on the table. The ring gag is next, being pulled free after being unclipped. Your jaw complains immediately soreness announcing itself as your teeth come together for the first time in over an hour. (set: $IsGag to true)(if: $Inv contains "oral cock insert")[(set: $Inv to $Inv - (a: "oral cock insert"))](if: $Inv contains "Isabella's ring gag")[(set: $Inv to $Inv - (a: "Isabella's ring gag"))] (colour: green)[Isabella's Ring Gag Removed!] (colour: green)[Oral Cock Insert Removed!] [[They both look at you expectantly.->SargonDae]]

You snap into as strict a presentation pose as you can muster, legs spread wide, eyes down, back straight with breasts pushed forward. The posture emphasizes your curves as much as your submission, the latter underlined by the line of drool that emerges from your gags to drip down upon your breasts. "She is certainly a dutiful, prim little thing," Tysus concludes, grudgingly giving way to Isabella's point. "But that does not explain the Black Card. There has been the sightings of a Daemon nearby, but that would mean... unless..." "It is my slave's," Isabella nods, as you retake your earlier kneeling position. She explains an even smaller portion of your story than you had given her, and you get the sense she is loathe to share even that with Tysus. But she does speak of your amnesia, of what you had originally set out to do-- and how that had all changed with the collar around your throat. As Isabella concludes, Tysus looks you over for several moments. "Pull her gag," she says, with a tone that made it more a command that a request. Isabella's brows drop as she removes her glasses. Tysus sighs, exasperated, and explains further. "Pull the girl's gag, and I will answer her questions on Daemons-- because I know you Naram-Sin are too proud to do so yourselves. So you will listen, Isabella, and perhaps learn something. Then we will discuss how to handle the situation. *Together.*" Your Mistress considers the offer for a long moment, but then reaches down. Sliding the cock insert from between your lips, she wipes it against your cheek to clean off the drool, then sets it on the table. The ring gag is next, being pulled free after being unclipped. Your jaw complains immediately soreness announcing itself as your teeth come together for the first time in over an hour. (set: $IsGag to true)(if: $Inv contains "oral cock insert")[(set: $Inv to $Inv - (a: "oral cock insert"))](if: $Inv contains "Isabella's ring gag")[(set: $Inv to $Inv - (a: "Isabella's ring gag"))] (colour: green)[Isabella's Ring Gag Removed!] (colour: green)[Oral Cock Insert Removed!] [[They both look at you expectantly.->SargonDae]]

"Then we return to how we should handle this situation, *together.*" Tysus leans upon the table between herself and your Mistress, eying Isabella intently. She returns the look, inducing a standoff that in that moment leaves you in the wake. As the tension again builds between them, you consider speaking up. (set: $Strike to 0) [["Mistress, should I be gagged again?"->Sargon6Ask]] [["Mistress, please put my gags back in..."->Sargon6Beg]] [[Remain silent for the moment.->Sargon6None]]

With your speaking up, the pair of silently dueling Mistresses break from their stare. Isabella looks to you, then to the pair of gags seated upon the table. "That's correct," she concludes, reaching for them. "We have no more need of your mouth, for the moment." (set: $Strike to 1) Reinstalling the gear is as simple as removal had been, with Isabella leaning down to slide your ring gag in first. Once that is strapped back to your head she pushes in the cock insert, trusting that you're ready for it. Even so, feeling the heavy laminate phallus resting upon your tongue and approaching your throat is never a particularly comfortable experience. (if: not ($Inv contains "Isabella's ring gag"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "Isabella's ring gag"))](if: not ($Inv contains "oral cock insert"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "oral cock insert"))] (colour: red)[Isabella's Ring Gag added! Oral Cock Insert added!] As you adjust to the return of your gags, Isabella turns back to her fellow Mistress. "Let us establish the situation, Sargon. My slave needs to be freed from the attentions of the Daemon she has made some sort of nebulous contact with in her past, contact she does not remember. Thus I am in need of your expertise. But you are undoubtedly interested in gleaning whatever information you can from such an encounter. This would undoubtedly help your research. We negotiate as equals, then." Sargon adjusts the fall of her thin laminate jacket, the darker coloration of her bra beneath so very visible. "I suppose we do." She doesn't seem happy to admit it. "Tell me how to break the Daemon's attention, then." [[As the Mistresses debate, you're left to your gagged and restrained thoughts.->Sargon7]]

With your speaking up, the pair of silently dueling Mistresses break from their stare. Isabella looks to you, then to the pair of gags seated upon the table. "Of course," she concludes, reaching for them. What a good slave you are, to want your gags back. We certainly have no more need of your mouth, for the moment." (set: $Strike to 1)(set: $Isasked to 1) Reinstalling the gear is as simple as removal had been, with Isabella leaning down to slide your ring gag in first. Once that is strapped back to your head she pushes in the cock insert, trusting that you're ready for it. Even so, feeling the heavy laminate phallus resting upon your tongue and approaching your throat is never a particularly comfortable experience. (if: not ($Inv contains "Isabella's ring gag"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "Isabella's ring gag"))](if: not ($Inv contains "oral cock insert"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "oral cock insert"))] (colour: red)[Isabella's Ring Gag added! Oral Cock Insert added!] As you adjust to the return of your gags, Isabella turns back to her fellow Mistress. "Let us establish the situation, Sargon. My slave needs to be freed from the attentions of the Daemon she has made some sort of nebulous contact with in her past, contact she does not remember. Thus I am in need of your expertise. But you are undoubtedly interested in gleaning whatever information you can from such an encounter. This would undoubtedly help your research. We negotiate as equals, then." Sargon adjusts the fall of her thin laminate jacket, the darker coloration of her bra beneath so very visible. "I suppose we do." She doesn't seem happy to admit it. "Tell me how to break the Daemon's attention, then." [[As the Mistresses debate, you're left to your gagged and restrained thoughts.->Sargon7]]

The silent duel between Mistresses continues, but you use it to your full advantage, working the kinks out of your jaw-- and enjoying the rare moment without a gag between your lips. Undoubtedly Isabella would return her attention to you, and she would certainly preferred you speak up, but a slave sometimes had to survive within the margins of submission and dominance. Eventually it is Isabella who breaks the stalemate. "Let us establish the situation, Sargon. My slave needs to be freed from the attentions of the Daemon she has made some sort of nebulous contact with in her past, contact she does not remember. Thus I am in need of your expertise. But you are undoubtedly interested in gleaning whatever information you can from such an encounter. This would undoubtedly help your research. We negotiate as equals, then." Sargon adjusts the fall of her thin laminate jacket, the darker coloration of her bra beneath so very visible. "I suppose we do." She doesn't seem happy to admit it. "Tell me how to break the Daemon's attention, then." [[As the Mistresses debate, you pull gently against your straitjacket.->Sargon7]]

"I do indeed have a solution," Tysus gloats openly. "It consists of two simple components. The first is dependent on your slave, she must simply reject the offer-- whatever it may be-- that the presumed Daemon makes. It would be even better if an alternative tribute was given, another slave... that would be all that is needed. But we will make do with the second part, instead. And that is entirely dependent on *me*." From beneath the table she pulls forth a small transparent rectangle, a display engaging within. A *glass* device. "The polar AIs can be relentless when they seek something-- or someone-- but one new slave is hardly something worth considerable effort on their part, barring extreme circumstances. And as I am sure you're aware, it is *my* family that handles negotiation with the AIs on behalf of the Ringdom. With your slave's documented refusal, and a simple authorization from my glass to have her name brought up during the next round of discussions, I'm sure the AI's focus will turn elsewhere." She taps the table for emphasis. "But you need my glass. So..." Her eyes narrow, and in that instant you feel a chill run down your spine. "...the Daemon will recognize if your slave comes to the deal with her Mistress, they respect such a relationship. I will accompany, to observe and collect data, posing as another of your household. Once we complete the meeting, I will authorize as promised, and everyone can go their separate ways." Despite all their posturing, it does almost seem fair-- if Tysus could be trusted throughout. "Oh," she continues, "there is one small matter as well, you and I, Isabella, should take a quick run through a wardrobe to coordinate our outfits. To sell the ruse more easily, yes?" [[It hardly seems necessary.->Sargon8]]

"Of course," Isabella agrees readily. "Allow me to reserve one of the private rooms here, I'm certain they will have a wardrobe. Then we can--" "No need." Tysus points to the balcony overlooking the lower floor of Club Lush, upon which you kneel. Isabella's gaze follows her hand, but your attention falls on Tysus' other, typing quickly on her glass. Strange. "I already have a room, suite #2. We can use mine. It would be no problem whatsoever." *Something* is wrong, you can feel it. The subtle dance of Torean dominance is playing out before you, and you're tied intrinsically to Isabella. Perhaps... perhaps you should try to warn her. Even if you don't know about what. (if: $Strike is 0)[[["Mistress, I..."->Sargon9Speak]]] (if: $Strike is 1)[[["Mmmmgh, mmmgh!"->Sargon9Speak]]] [[Remain silent.->Sargon9Quiet]]

(if: $Strike is 0)[Your words are met with an immediate snap of Isabella's steel-shod heel upon the Club floor, the sound as sharp as any whip crack.](else:)[Your gagged sounds are met with an immediate snap of Isabella's steel-shod heel upon the Club floor, the sound as sharp as any whip crack.] "Silence," she reprimands you. (if: $Strike is 0)["How foolish of me to have left you without your gags, hm? Allow me to rectify that." Reinstalling the gear is as simple as removal had been, with Isabella leaning down to slide your ring gag in first. Once that is strapped back to your head she pushes in the cock insert, trusting that you're ready for it. Even so, feeling the heavy laminate phallus resting upon your tongue and approaching your throat is never a particularly comfortable experience. (if: not ($Inv contains "Isabella's ring gag"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "Isabella's ring gag"))](if: not ($Inv contains "oral cock insert"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "oral cock insert"))] (colour: red)[Isabella's Ring Gag added! Oral Cock Insert added!] You think the issue settled, yet as Isabella pulls back she meets your eyes once more, and winks.](else:)["I understand you are still new to your collar, but you *will* remember your place when your superiors are talking. If I have need of your mouth I will make use of it, just as I have used it with that gag." Her tone is harsh, yet just as she turns to look back to Tysus her eyes catch yours and she winks.] "I have one condition," Isabella continues. "We must discuss your research more thoroughly, so that I may understand better how reasonable your conclusions are." Tysus frowns. "I can assure you--" "You *will* assure me, that you can be sure of Sargon, but I ask only that you indulge me. Hm?" [[Before Tysus can respond a familiar looking woman breaks from the crowd, approaching your table.->Sargon10]]

You allow your concerns to go unvoiced, and the pair of Mistresses continue their conversation unabated, although Isabella does pause for consideration before she speaks again. "I have one condition. We must discuss your research more thoroughly, so that I may understand better how reasonable your conclusions are." Tysus frowns. "I can assure you--" "You *will* assure me, that you can be sure of Sargon, but I ask only that you indulge me." (if: $Strike is 0)[Isabella looks to the table, as if only then realizing your gags still rested there. "Ah, well. Let us get these back in." Reinstalling the gear is as simple as removal had been, with Isabella leaning down to slide your ring gag in first. Once that is strapped back to your head she pushes in the cock insert, trusting that you're ready for it. Even so, feeling the heavy laminate phallus resting upon your tongue and approaching your throat is never a particularly comfortable experience. (if: not ($Inv contains "Isabella's ring gag"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "Isabella's ring gag"))](if: not ($Inv contains "oral cock insert"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "oral cock insert"))] (colour: red)[Isabella's Ring Gag added! Oral Cock Insert added!]] [[Before Tysus can speak further a familiar looking woman breaks from the crowd, approaching your table.->Sargon10]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/YGvmxgB.png" width="40%" height="40%"> Cherish, the serving slave you had met at the entrance of the Club, lifts her skirt and performs a deep reverence for both Isabella and Tysus. You, of course, are generally ignored. "How can I be of service?" "Leave us," Tysus replies, "you were not summoned." "Actually she was." Isabella smiles, withdrawing her hand from the small console set into the table. You imagine it is some sort of paging system for the slaves of the Club. "Cherish, take my slave to the bar, get her something to eat while we finish our discussion. She has had a long day, and I would not have her passing out on me before we conclude our business tonight." As she hands the serving girl your leash, Cherish nods brightly. "Of course, Mistress! Is there something in particular you had in mind for her?" Isabella withdraws her hand with a shrug. "Whatever slave slurry you are offering. My property is not allowed solids." Just what *that* meant is not explained, as Cherish bows once more in acknowledgement, then grips your leash tightly. She may be wearing a collar too, but that doesn't make her anymore gentle. "Come along then, slave." [[You are forced to follow her, into the teeming crowds of Club Lush.->Sargon11]]

Cherish's uniform provides scant coverage, her skirt and petticoats shifting in a teasing fashion with every step, revealing her panties beneath. But if you stared too long at that tempting sight you were liable to run into another patron, leash guiding you or not, and you do make a concentrated effort to focus just as you approach the bar itself. Forged mainly of glass, the Club's lights dance through the material, inducing a bright glow that's eclipsed by the row of laminate-clad patrons lined up before it. Cherish guides you to the side, a position that must be reserved for slaves of the Club itself, but to your surprise she makes no effort to feed you as ordered. Instead she hands a small plastic chit she held in her hand to the bartender, who holds it up briefly to the light before slipping it inside his glass device. Reading the message there, he squints at you, but then looks back to Cherish. A knowing nod passes between them, and she promptly leads you away from the bar. [[What is happening!?->Sargon12]]

Moving quickly now, Cherish skirts the edge of the Club, as far from your Mistress and Tysus as possible. Approaching the stage upon which the live band roared she directs you to a side entrance, marked CLUB SLAVES/EMPLOYEES ONLY. Pushing through reveals a backroom, although Cherish doesn't allow you time to gawk. She continues moving quickly, passing several rooms in succession. From one you hear gagged moaning, and in another you see lines of cages, but she presses on-- unlocking a door by allowing her collar to be scanned, then ascending a staircase. Your mastery of stairs while heeled so aggressively is not nearly as advanced as Cherish's own, which she recognizes, slowing for the first time so you can make the climb without falling-- being without usable arms certainly hurt your balance! But you persevere, and together you spill out yet another door to find yourself on a balcony. This one you recognize as the VIP area Cherish had pointed out before, overlooking the rest of the club itself. A handful of plush seating areas are occupied, but its towards the hallway along the back wall that you're lead. Here the doors are numbered, one through six, and you suddenly realize where you are: the private rooms both Cherish and Tysus had mentioned. Apparently your deal was to take place in #4, but its at #2 that you stop. Tysus' room. [["Mmmgh?"->Sargon13]]

"Turn around," Cherish commands, sighs when you look at her confused, then circles you to reach your back herself. "Your owner just paid a *considerable sum* for these handful of minutes, and I'm not even sure why. But I was instructed to undo your straitjacket, so that is what I'm doing. Then I'm going to give you the key to this door, and I'm going to give you ten minutes." (if: $Inv contains "bolero straitjacket")[(set: $Inv to $Inv - (a: "bolero straitjacket"))] (colour: green)[Bolero Straitjacket Removed!] With a final click your arms are suddenly no longer strictly bound, and by lifting them Cherish maneuvers the tight laminate from your body. The black of your catsuit remains of course, but you can wriggle your fingers and shake out the ache in your arms-- had the other slave not been so hurried. "Mistress Isabella did not explain *why* you're to be allowed this, but I *will* come in for you in ten minutes, and you *must* put back on your straitjacket. Before anyone else gets suspicious. When nobles play these games if they go wrong the slaves always get punish, and I'm sure neither of us want to get into trouble..." She pushes a keycard into the door, to which it responds with a quiet ping. "Ready?" [[Nod your head.->Sargon14]]

Stepping through the portal that Cherish opens for you reveals a small suite of rooms. Tysus Sargon's rooms. You stand in an antechamber, something like an insular sitting area, from which a pair of larger areas fork. To your left is a bedroom, a large four post bed dominating it-- Torei's cultural proclivities put an emphasis on such things after all. To your right is a small kitchenette and workspace. Clearly Club Lush's private rooms aren't intended as a hotel alternative, but are more suited to business meetings, private liaisons, or just a quiet place to pass out after a night on the dance floor. (set: $Brief to false)(set: $Ante to 0)(set: $Gagsearch to 0)(set: $Searchward to false)(set: $Gotcard to false)(set: $Activateward to false)(set: $Strike2 to 0)(set: $IsTask to 0) Your concerns are altogether different, of course. Isabella must have passed a note chit of some sort while handing off your leash, but to what purpose? Clearly she intended for you to search out something within Tysus' room. What had they discussed? Their plan for you and your supposed Daemon had focused on meeting with it together, you denying it a deal, and then Tysus sending word to her family to ensure your freedom to remain Isabella's slave would be made clear to the polar AIs in whatever manner the Ringdom used to negotiate with them. What did that have to do with a clandestine exploration of Tysus' room? Perhaps you should have paid more attention, but you cannot wait any longer-- time is running out! (set: $Strike to 10) [[Begin your search!->SearchHub]]

(if: $Strike is > 0)[You stand in the antechamber of Tysus' suite, a small bistro table, two chairs, and a long backless couch providing the only real furniture in the small space. To your left a doorway leads to a bedroom, while to the right another leads into a meeting area. Just outside the door Cherish waits, and with her experience perhaps she could give some indication of what to do. A clock upon the wall marks the time. You have $Strike minutes left. [[Examine the table.->AnteTable]] [[Examine the two chairs.->AnteChairs]] (if: $Brief is true)[[[Return to the briefcase.->Antebrief]]](else:)[[[Examine the couch.->Antecouch]]] (if: $Gagsearch is 0)[[[Remove your gags!->GagRemoval]]] (if: $Gagsearch is 0)[[[Call for Cherish through the door.->CorTalkGagFail]]](else:)[[[Call for Cherish through the door.->CorTalkGag]]] [[Enter the bedroom.->BedHub]] [[Enter the meeting area.->MeetHub]]](else:)[Your search is interrupted by the sound of the suite's door opening, and Cherish calling for you in a hushed voice. A glance at the nearest clock reveals you have indeed run out of the promised time, your task unfinished. Given her orders you do not doubt the serving girl would force you to return to the Club proper if you resisted, so with the taste of displeasure firmly in your mouth you move to meet her. You can only hope that Isabella's covering for you search does not prove essential. [[Hells...->RoomSearchFail]]]

The table is rounded with tall legs, requiring the chair to each side of it to be equally statuesque. You imagine with the sort of platform heels you've seen women wearing on Torei, and that you are indeed wearing yourself, that such chairs could be helpful. (set: $Ante to it + 1) (if: $Ante is < 2)[Unfortunately there is nothing else of interest, and eventually your attention shifts elsewhere.](else:)[Unfortunately there is nothing else of interest, and you have to question why you've spent so much time examining nondescript furniture. A minute passes.(set: $Strike to it - 1)] [[Step back.->SearchHub]]

The chairs are well constructed, laminate like so much else on Torei is, both in the legs which are hardened material and the padded seat itself-- which is soft to the touch of your gloved fingers. (set: $Ante to it + 1) (if: $Ante is < 2)[Unfortunately there is nothing else of interest, and eventually your attention shifts elsewhere.](else:)[Unfortunately there is nothing else of interest, and you have to question why you've spent so much time examining nondescript furniture. A minute passes.(set: $Strike to it - 1)] [[Step back.->SearchHub]]

Tysus' briefcase sits open before you. One side features a thick stack of thin-lam sheets, all of which feature notes written in a sharp and hand. The other has several stacks of cards, some business, others blanks, a few random ones visible as well. [[Search the papers!->PaperSearch]] (if: $Searchward is true)[[[Check the stacks of cards for a hotel keycard!->BriefCard]]](else:)[[[Search the stacks of cards!->StackSearchFail]]] [[Step back.->SearchHub]]

The couch is pushed up against the wall between the doorways leading to the bedroom and meeting space. Without a back it nevertheless features a very comfortable feeling seat, and kneeling down you notice the upturned arms are shaped to resemble the feminine form, one each supporting the curled laminate. (set: $Brief to true)(set: $Strike to it - 1) That kneeling perspective also allows you to notice a shadow upon the wall behind, and by running your hand beneath the couch itself you suddenly grasp an object! Pulling it out reveals a briefcase, undoubtedly Tysus', rendered in a black laminate as glossy as your suit. The rectangular device is latched but not locked, and upon opening it you find the interior split into two sides: the first holds a thick stack of thin-lam sheets. Looking through them would take some time. Alternatively the other side features several rows of laminate cards, some of them the sort traded by businessmen, others blanks upon which anything could be printed with a microforge. [[Hmm...->Antebrief]]

(if: $Strike is > 0)[The bedroom is the largest of the three main chambers, befitting the importance Torean culture gave to it. A large bed with four pillars, one rising from each corner dominates. The sheets are of course laminate, and you cannot help but to think of the bed you woke up on this morning. Other potential points of interest include a display panel of some sort sunk into the wall near the door, a nightstand near the bed, and a large cabinet upon the far wall. The clock projected from the nightstand suggests you have $Strike minutes left. [[Search the bed.->BedBed]] [[Examine the display panel.->BedPanel]] [[Search the nightstand.->BedNight]] [[Explore the large cabinet.->BedCab]] (if: $Gagsearch is false)[[[Remove your gags!->GagRemoval]]] [[Go back to the Antechamber.->SearchHub]]](else:)[Your search is interrupted by the sound of the suite's door opening, and Cherish calling for you in a hushed voice. A glance at the nearest clock reveals you have indeed run out of the promised time, your task unfinished. Given her orders you do not doubt the serving girl would force you to return to the Club proper if you resisted, so with the taste of displeasure firmly in your mouth you move to meet her. You can only hope that Isabella's covering for you search does not prove essential. [[Hells...->RoomSearchFail]]]

(if: $Strike is > 0)[This room is clearly intended to serve a dual purpose. Along one wall a small kitchen area sits, a sink alongside a few small cooking gadgets being more suited for the preparation of small dishes more than anything substantial. The rest of the room is dominated by a large table featuring a half dozen seats, clearly intended to provide an intimate location for business meetings. Knowing Torean sensibilities, however, you cannot help but anticipate restraint points along the edges though. The people of this planet were singularly focused in that manner, sometimes. (if: $Activateward is true)[ What had once been a blank wall at the far side of the room has now receded upon itself, revealing a doorway that looks all too familiar. A Wardrobe Device!] [[Examine the large table.->MeetTable]] [[Check the kitchen area.->MeetKitchen]] (if: $Activateward is true)[[[Approach the Wardrobe Device.->MeetWard]]] (if: $Gagsearch is 0)[[[Remove your gags.->GagRemoval]]] [[Return to the Antechamber.->SearchHub]]](else:)[Your search is interrupted by the sound of the suite's door opening, and Cherish calling for you in a hushed voice. A glance at the nearest clock reveals you have indeed run out of the promised time, your task unfinished. Given her orders you do not doubt the serving girl would force you to return to the Club proper if you resisted, so with the taste of displeasure firmly in your mouth you move to meet her. You can only hope that Isabella's covering for you search does not prove essential. [[Hells...->RoomSearchFail]]]

Digging through the papers reveals a plethora of notes on the nature of Daemons, their reported sightings and observations, and the workings of their suits. Given how you struggle to interpret the words you come to conclude they're mostly in shorthand, Tysus' way of jotting down thoughts before committing them to digital storage. (set: $Strike to it - 1) There is not, however, anything of particular relevance to Isabella's sending you here. Such digging however did take further time. [[Unfortunate.->Antebrief]]

Where else would Tysus keep a spare keycard than with all the others she had collected in her briefcase? Turning to the stacks of plastic with a sole target, you quickly pick out the pink of Club Lush's trademark color only a few deep on the second group. Sliding your gloved hands in, you pull back to reveal keycard for the suite you stood in-- and thus its wardrobe device! (set: $Gotcard to true) [[Perfect!->SearchHub]]

There are perhaps a hundred different cards of differing shades and designs, the logos as baffling as they are numerous. Despite your searching through the various stacks within the briefcase, you quickly come to realize that aimless sorting would achieve little. Perhaps it would be best to come back with a distinct purpose in mind. (set: $Strike to it - 1) [[Nevertheless, you waste a bit of time.->Antebrief]]

Reaching up, your gloved hands quickly find your lips. Forced into an inviting 'O' shape by the ring set so firmly between your teeth, nevertheless the first step to ungagging yourself is removing the cock lodged in your throat. Its base is slippery with your drool, but eventually you manage to seize hold, a quick yank overcoming the simple magnets otherwise keeping it in place. It pulls free easily, although with a few trails of spit stretching from your lips to the lewd member. (set: $IsGag to true)(if: $Inv contains "oral cock insert")[(set: $Inv to $Inv - (a: "oral cock insert"))] (colour: green)[Oral Cock Insert Removed!] Thus freed, you then turn your attention to the straps holding the ring gag to your mouth. Undoing them from the hardpoints provided on your mask proves easy enough, and soon you're plucking the ring itself free. (if: $Inv contains "Isabella's ring gag")[(set: $Inv to $Inv - (a: "Isabella's ring gag"))] (colour: green)[Isabella's Ring Gag Removed!] Working your jaw, as you move to the table in the antechamber to set down your gags, you once more can speak! (set: $Gagsearch to 1) [[A rare liberty for slaves.->SearchHub]]

"Mmmmmmmgh!" You are, of course, still gagged. As Isabella had demonstrated to your embarrassment there are no locks upon your gags, but they must be removed first to speak with Corinth-- and that would take a bit of time. [[A bit of drool drips from your mouth, as if mocking you.->SearchHub]]

Cherish opens the door immediately, although only halfway, the blue of her uniform gleaming. Through the red glasses she wore her eyes are somewhat worried. "Yes? Was there something you needed? You must hurry, you only have $Strike minutes left..." (if: $Gotcard is false)[[[You have the keycard for this room, right? Can I borrow it?->GetKeyCher]]] [["I need help, do you have any suggestions on what I'm supposed to be doing?"->CherHelp]] [["Nevermind." Step back.->SearchHub]]

"It isn't for *this* room," the serving girl corrects. "But all of them, we have to clean them after they are used and everything... but yeah! Here! I'll take it back when you're out of time. So hurry up!" The keycard she gives you is bright pink, matching Club Lush's livery. (set: $Gotcard to true) [[Progress!->CorTalkGag]]

"Suggestions?" She seems genuinely alarmed. "You don't know? By the Thrall... well, um..." Her skirt shift in a provocative manner as she startles herself. "Inside the bedroom, by the door, there is a display set into the wall. It tracks guest access, and a few other things. The control panel itself is somewhere else, though... but anyway, check that panel first! And hurry up!" (set: $Strike to it - 1) [[Good to know, even if it cost you a bit of time.->CorTalkGag]]

The bed is large, a pair of smooth laminate pillows seated atop several layers of laminate sheets. Examining the baseboard and pillars arising from each corner, you're perhaps not surprised to find a series of D-rings and other mounting points provided for all manner of restraints. Torean culture would have expected nothing less, especially in a Club allowing most anyone to take to the bed with a lover, slave, or anyone looking for a few credits. There is not, however, anything related to your task. Given the size of the bed, confirming that takes precious time. (set: $Strike to it - 1) [[Unfortunate.->BedHub]]

Recessed into the wall you recognize an oversized glass device, clearly intended to serve the dual uses of mirror and general HUD for updates on weather, Club Lush, and the very suite you stood. Swiping through the various tiled screens with a gloved finger, you search quickly for anything of note-- and quickly find it, after seeking a blinking notification. A short advert plays, which eats up time, but you do finally get what you sought: =><= ***External Upload Complete! Wardrobe Device Protocols Altered!*** <== (set: $Strike to it - 1) The simple message is only a few minutes old, raising your suspicions immediately. You remember Tysus typing as she distracted Isabella, although just *how* distracted your Mistress had been isn't very clear-- she had set you to this secret task, after all. Either way, you need to find this suite's Wardrobe! [[Step away.->BedHub]]

Approaching the nightstand, you find it to be deceptively simple. Built of hardened laminate resin like most anything else that would normally be steel or wood on Torei, there is a singular draw beneath while on the tabletop itself a small lap is situated. It is the latter that draws your attention, however, as you notice a small LED light nestled into the base. From somewhere within your shattered sense of memory you recall that such lights usually marked a haptic display, one that could be activated with a wave of the hand. [[Search the drawer.->BedDrawer]] [[Turn the light on.->BedLight]] (if: $Activateward is false)[[[[[Wave your hand before the LED.->BedControl]]]]](else:)[[[Wave your hand before the LED again.->BedControlEx]]] [[Step back.->BedHub]]

Besides the bed, the cabinet is the largest singular piece of furniture in the room-- towering above you even heeled as you are. Twin doors, one to each side pull open at your gloved touch to reveal... a *massive* selection of bondage implements. Restraints, gags, whips, vibes-- the assortment appears endless. Glancing over your shoulder, back to the bed, you consider that perhaps you should have anticipated this. A Wardrobe Device could do much, but switching bondage implements was often done by hand-- both for convenience and to save time. It made sense that a VIP suite would be properly outfitted in such a manner. As your eyes drink in the toolbox of pleasure and torture before you, however, you cannot help but draw your attention to one of the vibrating wands near the front. After being marched by Isabella across half Grand Aekora, after so much teasing... this could be your chance for release. *Finally.* Yet even primed as you are, you know your slave suit was built to prevent just such simple stimulations. It would eat *considerable* time up if you let it-- not to mention risk your Mistress' wrath. [[Not worth it. Step back.->BedHub]] [[Take up the vibe.->BedVibe]]

Opening the small drawer reveals it to be almost overflowing with all manner of restraints. At least a half dozen different cuffs, chains of all sorts-- and there is even a collapsible spreader bar tucked into the corner. There is not, however, anything of particular interest to you at this time. (set: $Strike to it - 1) [[It still took time to search everything, though.->BedNight]]

By pressing your hand to the top of the light fixture you engage it, a soft golden glow emerging in stark contrast to the clean sheen of the bed nearby. You're rather sure this hasn't accomplished anything at all. Eventually you flick it back off. [[Like slaves, lights are made to be turned on.->BedNight]]

As expected, with a wave of your hand a holographic display erupts to life before you. Most of the controls are rather useless to your purposes, general lighting settings, temperature modes, locks for the doors-- but one setting in particular stands out immediately. Labeled as *Wardrobe Device*, you suddenly remember the exchange between Tysus and your Mistress: *Despite all their posturing, it does almost seem fair-- if Tysus could be trusted throughout. "Oh," she continues, "there is one small matter as well, you and I, Isabella, should take a quick run through a wardrobe to coordinate our outfits. To sell the ruse more easily, yes?"* A Wardrobe could be programmed to do most anything, and in such an otherwise public place as Club Lush there was little else Tysus could do. That Wardrobe your Mistress would be using soon had to be checked! Flicking the switch to "open" it, you hear a sound from the Meeting Area on the far side of the Antechamber. (set: $Strike to it - 1)(set: $Activateward to true) [[Waving away the panel, you consider your next action.->BedNight]]

Again activating the room's control interface, you find little has changed since your first viewing. Actually confirming that takes a few moments however, precious time you should not be wasting. (set: $Strike to it - 1) [[You swipe the display away.->BedNight]]

(if: $Strike is > 0)[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/7nCijQl.png" width="40%" height="40%"> (if: $Strike2 is 0)[The wand is heavy in your hands, the thick laminate tip glossy beneath the light above. Unzipping yourself to remove your plugs would risk too much, you're certain to drip down your legs and upon the floor at the very least, but you don't intend that-- by merely pressing the wand against the base of the plug seated between your legs, you should be able to climax. Given enough time. You think. (link: "Press it between your legs.")[(set: $Strike2 to it + 1)(goto: "BedVibe")] [[No, return it to the cabinet.->BedCab]]] (if: $Strike2 is 1)[Flicking the switch, you press the device between your legs-- and almost immediately choke on a gasp. It feels so *good.* The vibrations impact upon your insert, running down the thick member, deep into your cunt. Yet while your slave suit's inserts are large, filling you completely, you find yourself a bit frustrated-- their base blocks your lips and clit from easily being accessed. (set: $Strike to it - 1) (link: "Keep at it.")[(set: $Strike2 to it + 1)(goto: "BedVibe")] [[Return it to the cabinet.->BedCab]]] (if: $Strike2 is 2)[You press the vibrating wand harder between your legs, tipping your head back as you moan quietly. It really does feel *incredible.* (set: $Strike to it - 1) (link: "Keep at it.")[(set: $Strike2 to it + 1)(goto: "BedVibe")] [[Return it to the cabinet.->BedCab]]] (if: $Strike2 is 3)[Reaching up with your free hand, you fondle your own breast. The slick material of your glove glides almost effortlessly against your chest, but you endure, focusing on your nipple as you tease and tweak yourself. (set: $Strike to it - 1) (link: "Keep at it.")[(set: $Strike2 to it + 1)(goto: "BedVibe")] [[Return it to the cabinet.->BedCab]]] (if: $Strike2 is 4)[Panting quietly, you force the vibrator harder between your legs. It is almost if all the teasing has pushed your limit for stimulation as high as your resting arousal has been altered-- had you done the same this morning, you know you would have cummed already. Instead you're still frustrated, the thick plugs within you churning with each purr from the wand. (set: $Strike to it - 1) (link: "Keep at it.")[(set: $Strike2 to it + 1)(goto: "BedVibe")] [[Return it to the cabinet.->BedCab]]] (if: $Strike2 is 5)[You press even harder against your plugs, reveling in the rumble between your legs being transferred a bit to your real intruder as well. You cannot help but picture yourself in glossy laminate, being taken from both holes at once. It is as deeply embarrassing as it is exciting. (set: $Strike to it - 1) (link: "Keep at it.")[(set: $Strike2 to it + 1)(goto: "BedVibe")] [[Return it to the cabinet.->BedCab]]] (if: $Strike2 is 6)[Abandoning your chest, you shift your free hand to between your legs as well, pressing your palm against the laminate that covered your clit. You moan louder in response, but still do not climax. (set: $Strike to it - 1) (link: "Keep at it.")[(set: $Strike2 to it + 1)(goto: "BedVibe")] [[Return it to the cabinet.->BedCab]]] (if: $Strike2 is 7)[Your legs quiver from the effort, and finally you feel yourself getting close... but with so much time wasted... (set: $Strike to it - 1) (link: "Keep at it.")[(set: $Strike2 to it + 1)(goto: "BedVibe")] [[Return it to the cabinet.->BedCab]]] (if: $Strike2 is 8)[Closer and closer, you pant like the rubber fuck toy you've always wanted to be, trying desperately to cum... (set: $Strike to it - 1) (link: "Keep at it.")[(set: $Strike2 to it + 1)(goto: "BedVibe")] [[Return it to the cabinet.->BedCab]]] (if: $Strike2 is 9)[Your legs quiver, your breathing emerges as pants, you can feel it coming... (set: $Strike to it - 1) (link: "Keep at it.")[(set: $Strike2 to it + 1)(goto: "BedVibe")] [[Return it to the cabinet.->BedCab]]] (if: $Strike2 is 10)[Just... a bit... more... (set: $Strike to it - 1) (link: "Keep at it.")[(set: $Strike2 to it + 1)(goto: "BedVibe")] [[Return it to the cabinet.->BedCab]]] ](else:)[The sound of the suite door opening suddenly in the antechamber breaks your focus, and you nearly drop the wand in surprise. Glancing at the clock, you realize the time Cherish had promised you is gone-- wasted by your wanton desires. You foolish slut, you truly did think only with your cunt! Hurriedly you return the wand to its place, close the doors, and try your best to catch your breath as you walk towards Cherish. [[Hells...->RoomSearchFail]]]

"There you are," Cherish greets, your straitjacket slung over one of her arms. "Good, good... I hope you completed whatever it is you were intended to do in here?" She doesn't wait for an answer, instead guiding you back towards the suite's door. "Well, nothing we can do about it now, you know? Time is up. Any longer and people will start wondering where we wandered off to. So we need to get you back into your gear, and back downstairs." (if: $Gagsearch is 0)[Cherish lifts the heavy straitjacket Isabella had selected for you, the front a bundle of straps without your body to give it shape. "I'm sure you're eager to go back in?" [[Yes. "Mmmmgh...."->StraitYes]] [[No! "Mmmgh!"->StraitNo]]](else:)[Cherish picks up your gags from the table in the antechamber where you both now stand. "Might as well start with these. Given your hands are still free you can put them in yourself, unless you would like me to do it." [["Please gag me, Cherish..."->GagFirstPlease]] [["I'll do it."->GagFirstDo]]]

The table is large, and clearly influenced by offworlder aesthetics-- it looks wood grain, but upon closer inspection you find it to be merely treated laminate. Still it serves admirably, you cannot even truly feel a difference, although the equally laminate gloves upon your hands do make that rather difficult anyway. And of course you find, hidden along the bottom lip, several reinforced points intended for restraining submissives. (set: $Strike to it - 1) [[Of course.->MeetHub]]

There isn't much to pick through in the small kitchen area. Never intended for long term use, there aren't any drawers, leaving only the sink itself and the various implements upon the countertop. You can identify most of them, although Torean products were always a little strange compared to the galactic standard. What you do not find is anything of relevance to your purpose. (set: $Strike to it - 1) [[More wasted time!->MeetHub]]

Stepping up to the Wardrobe Device, you finally feel as if you have a grip on just what is going on-- you have used (or been subjected) to these machines several times today, and compared to most Torean technology you could consider yourself to be something of an expert. And indeed you find the outer control panel mounted in a recessed space on the wall, just as you anticipated. What you do *not* expect is the interface to be locked, the panel noting with bolded letters: **LOCKDOWN ENGAGED. SWIPE ROOM CARD TO UNLOCK.** (set: $Searchward to true) (if: $Gotcard is true)[Luckily, you've come prepared with keycard in hand. All you need to do is swipe it. [[Swipe Card.->RoomSearchSwipe]] [[You want to keep searching for now.->MeetHub]]](else:)[You need a card for Tysus' room! Undoubtedly she would have one herself, but going to her to retrieve it would be out of the question. It is common practice for hotels to issue a second card, however-- and you must hope that is true even for a nightclub. You must find it! (if: $Brief is true)[That briefcase you found did have all manner of cards within it...] [[Step back from the Wardrobe.->MeetHub]]]

"Yeah, I could tell that," she smiles, the enthusiasm you had seen from her upon first arriving at the Club returning. Clearly she did not like assisting your efforts, even if she had been directed by Club ownership, and would be happy to see you securely locked back up and with your Mistress. "Well, put out your arms and I'll get you in." She is as good as her word, although without a Wardrobe the laminate quickly proves a bit troublesome to get on you-- the fit is so perfect, so tight, Cherish has to put quite a bit of effort into the task. Luckily the straitjacket itself is formed from a heavier gauge of laminate, and no amount of her tugging and pulling proves liable to damage it. "Cross your arms, below your breasts." The serving girl commands once you're resleeved, and she sets to working closed the various buckles, latches, and locks that ensured you had absolutely no hope of escaping without assistance. Once again you're rendered helpless, returned to the strict embrace of heavy bondage. (if: not ($Inv contains "bolero straitjacket"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "bolero straitjacket"))] (colour: red)[Bolero Straitjacket added!] Snapping your leash back into place, Cherish flashes you another smile. "All good? Let's get you back to your Mistress, slave." [[You follow behind her.->ReturntoIsa]]

"Could have fooled me," she smiles, the enthusiasm you had seen from her upon first arriving at the Club returning. Clearly she did not like assisting your efforts, even if she had been directed by Club ownership, and would be happy to see you securely locked back up and with your Mistress. "Well, put out your arms and I'll get you in." She is as good as her word, although without a Wardrobe the laminate quickly proves a bit troublesome to get on you-- the fit is so perfect, so tight, Cherish has to put quite a bit of effort into the task. Luckily the straitjacket itself is formed from a heavier gauge of laminate, and no amount of her tugging and pulling proves liable to damage it. "Cross your arms, below your breasts." The serving girl commands once you're resleeved, and she sets to working closed the various buckles, latches, and locks that ensured you had absolutely no hope of escaping without assistance. Once again you're rendered helpless, returned to the strict embrace of heavy bondage. (if: not ($Inv contains "bolero straitjacket"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "bolero straitjacket"))] (colour: red)[Bolero Straitjacket added!] Snapping your leash back into place, Cherish flashes you another smile. "All good? Let's get you back to your Mistress, slave." [[You follow behind her.->ReturntoIsa]]

"Of course," Cherish replies readily. "Open your mouth, please?" When you do she slides the padded ring of your first gag between your teeth, seating it properly before adjusting the straps, then tightening them to good effect. In mere moments your ability to close your mouth is ended, nor are you capable of forcing the gag out. Its almost terrifying to consider how effect just a few bits of laminate could be to deny you such liberties, but you're only halfway done yet. (if: not ($Inv contains "Isabella's ring gag"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "Isabella's ring gag"))] (colour: red)[Isabella's Ring Gag added!] The cock is next, and far easier to install. Cherish only needs to line it up then plunge it home, sliding the thick member inch by inch between your lips. You nearly gag involuntarily, earning a look of empathy from the other slave, but Cherish does seat it completely and without reservation. (if: not ($Inv contains "oral cock insert"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "oral cock insert"))] (colour: red)[Oral Cock Insert added!] "There! Now..." Cherish lifts the heavy straitjacket Isabella had selected for you, the front a bundle of straps without your body to give it shape. "I'm sure you're eager to go back in?" [[Yes. "Mmmmgh...."->StraitYes]] [[No! "Mmmgh!"->StraitNo]]

Cherish nods, adjusting the straitjacket as she waits. "Go ahead." Reaching up you slide the padded ring of your first gag between your teeth, seating it properly before adjusting the straps, then tightening them to good effect. In mere moments your ability to close your mouth is ended, nor are you capable of forcing the gag out. Its almost terrifying to consider how effect just a few bits of laminate could be to deny you such liberties, but you're only halfway done yet. (if: not ($Inv contains "Isabella's ring gag"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "Isabella's ring gag"))] (colour: red)[Isabella's Ring Gag added!] The cock is next, and far easier to install. You only needs to line it up then plunge it home, sliding the thick member inch by inch between your lips. You nearly gag involuntarily, earning a look of empathy from Cherish, but persist until it is hilted and snaps into its mag locks. (if: not ($Inv contains "oral cock insert"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "oral cock insert"))] (colour: red)[Oral Cock Insert added!] "There! Now..." Cherish lifts the heavy straitjacket Isabella had selected for you, the front a bundle of straps without your body to give it shape. "I'm sure you're eager to go back in?" [[Yes. "Mmmmgh...."->StraitYes]] [[No! "Mmmgh!"->StraitNo]]

Swiping the card is answered with a quiet beep from the console, followed shortly thereafter by the lockdown warning fading away. In its place the sort of Wardrobe Device controls you're familiar with come into view. Its a short bit of familiarity, however, as yet another warning suddenly leaps to life upon the screen. It takes you a few moments to parse out exactly what the warning meant, but you come to realize its a confirmation of a simple tweak to the Wardrobe's identification array. A remotely delivered command has rigged the machine to quietly override any settings made by an *Isabella Naram-Sin*, replacing them instead with a slave suit to match your own-- down to the dual gags and straitjacket! This must be Tysus' plan: she had mentioned the Daemon you are to meet would accept a Mistress accompanying its slave... clearly she intended for herself to take that role, while you and Isabella would be led in as the slaves... perhaps to both be sacrificed to the Daemon's attentions! The nerve of the woman! But now *you* have control of what came next. You see no means of canceling the ovveride completely, but you could take more radical action, and turn the tables on Tysus completely... by overriding the Wardrobe so that when *she* entered it her choices would be replaced with a full slave suit. A second alternative, although one you *know* will end badly, would be to simply allow Tysus plan to go ahead. Can you imagine Isabella in a slave uniform? [[Leave the Wardrobe override in place, targeting Isabella.->IsPickFail]] [[Transfer the override to target Tysus.->IsPickGood]]

=><= *Override Confirming...* (live: 2s)[*Command Complete.*] (live: 4s)[*Logging you out...*] (set: $IsTask to 0) <== (live: 9s)[The Wardrobe Device logs you out just as you're interrupted by the sound of the suite's door opening, and Cherish calling for you in a hushed voice. A glance at the nearest clock reveals you have indeed run out of the promised time. Despite your lack of direction, you nevertheless consider your work well done-- you figured out Tysus' plot, only to allow it to go forward unobstructed. How bad could it truly be? [[Knowing what is to come, you move to rejoin Cherish near the door.->RoomSearchFail]]]

=><= *Override Transferring..* (live: 2s)[*Command Complete.*] (live: 4s)[*Logging you out...*] (set: $IsTask to 2) <== (live: 9s)[The Wardrobe Device logs you out just as you're interrupted by the sound of the suite's door opening, and Cherish calling for you in a hushed voice. A glance at the nearest clock reveals you have indeed run out of the promised time. Despite your lack of direction, you nevertheless consider your work well done-- you figured out Tysus' plot, and managed to not only counteract her treachery but set it up to backfire completely! [[Knowing what is to come, you move happily to rejoin Cherish near the door.->RoomSearchPass]]]

Once more, you follow the subtle pressure of the laminate cord that stretches out from your collar. Cherish takes the same path as before, back to the balcony and then through the backrooms, emerging beside the stage before making toward the bar. Only then does she shift directions back towards a direct route to the table you left, where Isabella and Tysus are still talking. In fact Tysus seems to be deep into a lecture of sorts, one that Isabella ends with an outstretched hand at your approach. That seems to frustrate the Sargon, but your Mistress has eyes only for you. She's eying you expectantly, yet without risking words to ask how things went. (if: $IsTask is 0)[You try your best to keep your gaze on the ground, afraid to disappoint.](else:)[You all but glow beneath her gaze, almost giddy for her approval once things got into motion.] "How was she?" Your Mistress eventually asks, looking to Cherish as your leash is traded. "Very good," the servant replies. "She sucked down a full load of slave feed, without spilling a drop." "Good. And how did Cherish perform, my slave?" Isabella reaches down, a single finger beneath your chin guiding your eyes to her own. "Moan if she did well." [[Moan.->CherRewar]] [[Remain silent.->CherPun]]

Reaching to the control console built into the table, Isabella presses a button there. Almost immediately Cherish startles, her hands momentarily coming to her skirt before she makes the effort to keep them at her sides. Beside her as you are, you can hear a quiet purr, some vibrator within her dancing to life. Lifting her skirt to Isabella readily, Cherish bows in another reverence. "Was there anything else, Mistress?" "No," comes the immediate reply. "You may leave us." She had barely made it a step before your owner turns on Tysus. "Ready to do this, Sargon?" The sudden shift clearly catches the other woman by surprise, but she hides it quickly. Adjusting the fall of her laminate blouse she slides out from the booth, smoothing her skirt in one quick action. "Absolutely. My room, and the Wardrobe then?" "Yes." [[Your leash goes taut.->IsaWar]]

Reaching to the control console built into the table, Isabella presses a button there. Almost immediately Cherish startles, her hands momentarily coming to her skirt before she makes the effort to keep them at her sides-- but she cannot control her mewled whimper. Beside her as you are, you can hear a sharp snap, some shocking mechanism within her dancing to life. Lifting her skirt to Isabella readily, Cherish bows in a pained reverence. "Was there... anything else, Mistress?" "No," comes the immediate reply. "You may leave us." She had barely made it a step before your owner turns on Tysus. "Ready to do this, Sargon?" The sudden shift clearly catches the other woman by surprise, but she hides it quickly. Adjusting the fall of her laminate blouse she slides out from the booth, smoothing her skirt in one quick action. "Absolutely. My room, and the Wardrobe then?" "Yes." [[Your leash goes taut.->IsaWar]]

Once more you are led through the teeming crowds of Club Lush, although this time with *two* of Aekora's nobility guiding you. Side by side Isabella and Tysus walk, as if falling a step behind would indicate some personal failing, or worse-- the barest hint of submission. Inevitably such a contest develops a quick pace, forcing you to keep up, but you're somewhat surprised to find that you're adjusting. Where the straitjacket, corset, and heels would have conspired to trip you previously, a few hours bound as such is truly making the effort easier. For a moment you consider if getting used to heavy bondage and restraint was something to be proud of. Its a thought you push from your mind as your three person party ascends the VIP stairs, requiring only a brief word between Tysus and another male bouncer to achieve access. (if: $IsTask is 0)[Along the way you cannot help but glance at Isabella, knowing that the task she sent you on had undoubtedly not gone as she would like. If you were without your gag you could have warned her, but as it is you can merely suckle on the cock heled between your hungry lips, tongue running up the base of the laminate shaft in thought.](else:)[Along the way you cannot help but glance at Tysus, knowing the task your Mistress had sent you on would catch the scheming noble in a trap of her own design. The irony is delicious, although your tongue has a taste only for the laminate cock locked between your hungry lips. Suckling on it slowly, you smile as best you gags can manage.] Reaching the VIP landing itself reveals it to be much as you left it, a handful of Club-goers seated in the lounge area or along the balcony to overlook the Lush itself. Isabella and Tysus press onward however, entering the darkened hallway with its neon markers. Behind the door marked as Suite #4 you could expect a Daemon, but it is towards Tysus' room at #2 that they aim. [[Your plugs shift with anticipation.->IsaWar2]]

Tysus unlocks the door and leads the way inside, followed by Isabella and then yourself. Upon entering you find the Sargon (if: $Brief is true)[looking down at the briefcase you had left upon the couch, a frown upon her lips. Yet she seems to conclude it to have simply slipped her mind, and quickly she closes the case.](else:)[waiting impatiently, even thought it has been mere moments. You can only imagine how strict she would be as a Mistress.] "The Wardrobe is over here," she indicates the Meeting Room, (if: $Activateward is true)["All I need to do is... ah." She had noticed the Wardrobe has been opened(if: $Brief is true)[ as well]. You can almost read the questions running across her features. Had she left it open? Could the command she had sent to it have disengaged the door? For a brief moment she almost seems liable to change course, to abandon her plan, but a glance at Isabella settles her resolve. The disdain there is palpable.](else:)["All I need to do is open it from the other room. One moment." From your vantage you observe her entering the bedroom, where a quick flash of her hand above the nightstand's light engages a control console. Her efforts are rewarded by a click from the other room to your right, as the wall at the far side of the room recedes to reveal just as she had promised: a wardrobe device.] "Come now," she continues, crossing back to the antechamber so that she can lead you and Isabella both towards the machine. Once there, she taps upon the screen to activate it. (if: $IsTask is 0)["Isabella, would you like to go first?" "Of course," your Mistress nods. "As long as you allow me to see the settings you have made? We are simply going for coordination, after all." Tysus' smile is sickly sweet. "Please do so."](else:)["I will go first, Isabella. As a demonstration of our shared commitment to seeing this done right." Isabella's smile is sickly sweet. "Please do so."] (if: $IsTask is 0)[[[Isabella checks, nods, and enters the machine.->Taskfail]]](else:)[[[Tysus checks, nods, and enters the machine.->TaskPass]]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/iSsfeuO.jpg" width="40%" height="40%"> Even muffled within, you hear Isabella's shouts of concern. Shock, anger-- then muffled groans. She had been gagged, you suspect. What emerges afterward is hard to identify as your steely-eyed Mistress. The base of her outfit remains a black catsuit, but her every liberty is now as restrained as your own. From the pair of gags, ring and cock, seated in her mouth to the collar at her throat, from the bolero straitjacket holding her arms beneath her breasts to the way her hips shift with the obvious signs of plugs being installed, you recognize in that moment just how quickly Torei's laminate embrace could turn on a person. Isabella has been installed with a slave suit, and now you're *both* at Tysus mercy. "Oh my," the Sargon grins, white teeth dazzling as she observes her handiwork. "Now this... *this* is the proper look for a Naram-Sin, I think." Isabella growls angrily through her gag, trying to pull free from the heavy laminate of her straitjacket, but all that does is shift the plugs between her legs. The result pushes her towards a moan, although she bites down on the sound hard. Tysus meanwhile gloats openly. "Shush now. None of this growling, you should be looking to your slave for how to act-- now that you're in a collar too." Pulling Isabella closer, she wraps one arm around your bound Mistress, and another around your similarly restrained shoulders as she looks to you. "Isn't that right, slave?" [[Trying to fight, struggle!->FailStrug]] [[Lower your eyes, and remain quiet.->FailQuiet]] [[Moan lewdly, for Tysus' approval.->FailMoan]]

As soon as the Sargon enters and the doors close, Isabella looks over her shoulder to you. "She rigged the Wardrobe in some manner, did she not?" At your quick nod she smirks, reaching to her purse to pull forth the digital cigarette she favored. With a flick the top ignites a pure crimson, glowing brighter as she breaths in deeply. Her exhale comes with laugh. "I suspected as much, but her offering to go first confirmed it." Returning her attention to the machine, Isabella takes a patient posture. "Let us see what Tysus has gotten *herself* into." She does not need to wait long for the first sign of concern from within, the other woman's shrill voice escaping despite the sound-dampened doors. Something like a command to halt, at once, is given-- followed shortly thereafter by rising anger, then curses directed at the Naram-Sin in general and Isabella in particular. That continues for some time until the words cut off mid-sentence, giving blissful silence for a few brief moments. By then the Wardrobe had nearly completed its work, however, and the door's opening comes quickly. [[They open with a hiss...->TaskPass2]]

Pulling against your own identical bondage, you achieve as much as Isabella had moments ago-- the heavy laminate holds you tightly, without give, while the plugs between your legs shift aggressively. After a few seconds you're panting from the effort, and after that comes a hungry moan you cannot hold. Tysus laughs, slapping both you and Isabella on the rear. Your Mistress straightens, furious. But what can she do now? "Oh, this is *delightful.*" Reaching for your leash, she quickly ties the side usually used for holding to Isabella's collar than grabs the space between. Given the length of the laminate cord you're drawn together, shoulder to shoulder, where Isabella finally looks to you. There is anger there, burning as strong as the cinnamon cigarettes she favored, but something else too. *Disappointment.* She put her trust in you, and you have failed her. Just what that meant is quickly established by Tysus, who looks between you almost giddy with excitement. "I suppose we can toss the rest of that horrid original plan. Why waste such a valuable opportunity? We will still of course be going to meet your Daemon, but instead of rejecting it... well, you don't really have a choice now, do you slave?" The look she gives you makes it clear you would not have your gag removed to answer properly. Yet... she waits. Goading you to respond. [[Moan quietly for her.->Fail2Moan]] [[Remain stubbornly silent.->Fail2Stub]]

Such silence leaves your position unclear, caught as it is between the suggested ignoring of Tysus altogether-- and the quiet submission such an effort usually indicated. It doesn't seem to trip up the only uncollared woman in the room, however. Tysus laughs, slapping both you and Isabella on the rear. Your Mistress straightens, furious. But what can she do now? "Oh, this is *delightful.*" Reaching for your leash, she quickly ties the side usually used for holding to Isabella's collar than grabs the space between. Given the length of the laminate cord you're drawn together, shoulder to shoulder, where Isabella finally looks to you. There is anger there, burning as strong as the cinnamon cigarettes she favored, but something else too. *Disappointment.* She put her trust in you, and you have failed her. Just what that meant is quickly established by Tysus, who looks between you almost giddy with excitement. "I suppose we can toss the rest of that horrid original plan. Why waste such a valuable opportunity? We will still of course be going to meet your Daemon, but instead of rejecting it... well, you don't really have a choice now, do you slave?" The look she gives you makes it clear you would not have your gag removed to answer properly. Yet... she waits. Goading you to respond. [[Moan quietly for her.->Fail2Moan]] [[Remain stubbornly silent.->Fail2Stub]]

Despite everything your natural submissiveness pushes through, demonstrating itself no matter who held your leash. Moaning loudly, you shimmy your hips, demonstrating your sexual frustration openly. Tysus laughs, slapping both you and Isabella on the rear. Your Mistress straightens, furious. But what can she do now? "Oh, this is *delightful.*" Reaching for your leash, she quickly ties the side usually used for holding to Isabella's collar than grabs the space between. Given the length of the laminate cord you're drawn together, shoulder to shoulder, where Isabella finally looks to you. There is anger there, burning as strong as the cinnamon cigarettes she favored, but something else too. *Disappointment.* She put her trust in you, and you have failed her. Just what that meant is quickly established by Tysus, who looks between you almost giddy with excitement. "I suppose we can toss the rest of that horrid original plan. Why waste such a valuable opportunity? We will still of course be going to meet your Daemon, but instead of rejecting it... well, you don't really have a choice now, do you slave?" The look she gives you makes it clear you would not have your gag removed to answer properly. Yet... she waits. Goading you to respond. [[Moan quietly for her.->Fail2Moan]] [[Remain stubbornly silent.->Fail2Stub]]

"That's right, my horny little toys," using her position between you and Isabella, Tysus places a palm each upon between your legs, rubbing gently at the laminate there. Despite herself, and to her evident frustration, Isabella joins you in moaning openly to the fondling. For a brief moment you can imagine Tysus guiding you and Isabella towards climax, but that fantasy is broken as the Sargon suddenly steps away. She doesn't go far, merely to the couch where (if: $Brief is true)[she once more opens her briefcase](else:)[withdraws a briefcase from beneath and opens it]. Rummaging through its contents, she quickly returns with (if: $Brief is true)[something you had missed in your first search, ]a small syringe. Instead of explaining her intent, or even giving you a moment to gawk, she merely steps up beside you and drives it into your neck. The laminate is pierced easily enough, and the pain isn't too bad, but your wide eyed expression clearly announces what your gag prevents you from saying: *just what was that!?* Tysus answers, but only after repeating the process with Isabella-- who fights her considerably, albeit vainly given her bondage. "That was a bio-chem tracking cocktail. It does not remain potent for long, but anything more substantial would certainly be found when I give you to it." Tossing the syringe carelessly onto the couch, she grabs the laminate cord between your throat and Isabella's before continuing. "The Daemon, I mean." Again Isabella fights, raging against the fate you had a hand in delivering, but the Sargon had gripped the leash fiercely-- and now uses it to pull both of you towards the door. "Come along now, slaves. Think of the revelations this will result in!" [[Straitjacketed and gagged, you have no hope of resisting.->Fail3]]

"Oh, very good," Tysus continues, despite your recalcitrance. Stepping away, she cannot help but speak once more. "No matter, you will not need a mouth where you're going." She doesn't go far, merely to the couch where (if: $Brief is true)[she once more opens her briefcase](else:)[withdraws a briefcase from beneath and opens it]. Rummaging through its contents, she quickly returns with (if: $Brief is true)[something you had missed in your first search, ]a small syringe. Instead of explaining her intent, or even giving you a moment to gawk, she merely steps up beside you and drives it into your neck. The laminate is pierced easily enough, and the pain isn't too bad, but your wide eyed expression clearly announces what your gag prevents you from saying: *just what was that!?* Tysus answers, but only after repeating the process with Isabella-- who fights her considerably, albeit vainly given her bondage. "That was a bio-chem tracking cocktail. It does not remain potent for long, but anything more substantial would certainly be found when I give you to it." Tossing the syringe carelessly onto the couch, she grabs the laminate cord between your throat and Isabella's before continuing. "The Daemon, I mean." Again Isabella fights, raging against the fate you had a hand in delivering, but the Sargon had gripped the leash fiercely-- and now uses it to pull both of you towards the door. "Come along now, slaves. Think of the revelations this will result in!" [[Straitjacketed and gagged, you have no hope of resisting.->Fail3]]

Fighting, begging, pleading-- it matters not to Tysus. With you in tow, and all but dragging Isabella, she leads you from her suite and back into the hallway. There isn't even hope for someone to see you, to come to your rescue-- collared and dressed in slave gear, no proper Torean would think twice about a Mistress treating you harshly. Nor is your destination far. Moving two doors down takes a bit, given Isabella's growled resistance, but Tysus is just as stubborn-- and has the advantage of usable arms and leverage. Eventually she manages to push you and your Mistress up against the wall beside the door to Suite #4, holding you there as she knocks upon the door. Once, twice-- and when that does fail with the toe of her heeled boot, inducing *quite* a racket. The door opens suddenly in response, revealing a bespectacled young man looking more than a little harried. "Ah, you're-- wait. You're not she. I'm sorry, you must have the wrong--" "A Daemon-Worshipper?" Tysus interrupts, leaning in. Her words clearly spark panic in the young man, who holds up his hands, shaking his head. "Of course not, I'm just staying here for--" Pushing her way past him and into the room, Tysus maintains her hold on your leash, thus pulling you both along. The man only sees you then, his concern still evident but now once more mixed with confusion. [[Try to get him to help! "Mmmghh!"->Fail4]] [[Try to escape Tysus' hold!->Fail4]] [[Remain silently submissive.->Fail4]]

"Slaves," Tysus intervenes, pulling sharply upon your leash. You and Isabella are brought together by the maneuver, chest to chest, where you can see the alarm in her eyes. The Sargon controlling you both watches you both closely, even as she addresses the man again. "One of them, I presume, you gaze a Black Card to? They both have come to answer it." That *does* seem to calm the man a bit, although he never shakes that lingering look of prey being hunted. His attire is laminate, a smart suitcoat and tailored trousers rendered in dark grey. His tie is undone however, a bit of dishevelment shared by the antechamber you've entered into. Much like Tysus' suite, this one features two doors leading off, although the one to the bedroom is closed. Its Tysus that notices a suitcase near the door however, the entire front opened to reveal a set of restraints, clearly positioned for someone to be folded up and locked within. "Ah," she notes. "Clever. I was wondering how you got it into the Club without my seeing, or without the management throwing you out for that matter. You *do* have some pact with the AIs." The man eyes her carefully, adjusting his glasses. "You certainly... know a lot about how this sort of thing is done... you are...?" "No," Tysus replies sharply. "I do not worship Daemons, I am here merely to deliver the girl you were waiting for-- alongside a bonus. Which perhaps we will need to discuss afterward, I may not work with the AI but I would be interested in a reward for... this gift I give them." "They can be most generous!" The man enthuses, glad to be on the same page. "If you would just lead them to the door?" [[He indicates the bedroom, which Tysus strides towards immediately. You can see the smile on her lips.->Fail5]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/rFMXUfL.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> The Daemon, the Emissary, waits for you 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.] Its body is uniformly 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 the Daemon's equation. It reaches out its hand, and in quiet awe Tysus hands over your shared leash with Isabella. The Daemon's grip is firm, and far stronger than you had anticipated. It demands your full attention but does not abuse it, instead simply leading you over to the bed where two distinct sets of gear lay upon it. Two suits. 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 them, it takes you awhile, but you recognize it in the one on the left. That... 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 of that one, 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.->Fail6]]

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 Torei and its denizens, the will that had driven you to this point now subjugated entirely. You no longer have the means to accept a deal. It would instead be forced upon you and Isabella both, as had been done to slaves on Torei again and again... [[The helmet is yours, forever...->Fail7]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/RgEruqK.png" width="30%" height="30%"> You cannot escape, or resist. When you shake your head it steadies you. Slowly, ever so slowly, it brings it up towards your waiting face. How could it this easy, to lose 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 barely hear Isabella struggling to escape sometime later, her failure, her own mask being applied... (set: $Ending to 1) [[It feels so good...->Fail8]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/Xzv3O8L.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> They have you now. (set: $DaemonEnd to true)(set: $Status to 4)(set: $Gear to 10) (colour: green)[Inventory cleared!] 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. You're not sure if the straitjacket you wear is the one you entered the room with, or an alteration made by the power that now compels you on a whim. But it holds you tightly beside your fellow Daemon, who even now you can only vaguely remember had been Isabella. You both wriggle through the pleasure cycles. 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 you and Isabella are allowed to couple, grinding your smooth laminate cunts against each other, but not always. Sometimes the male joins you. Sometimes it just commands you to sit through the next orgasm. You're not sure why. It's not your concern. (colour: purple)[It never should have been.] (colour: red)[Daemon Control Suite added!] (colour: red)[Daemon Collar #200426 added!] (set: $Inv to (a:))(if: not ($Inv contains "daemon control suite"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "daemon control suite"))](if: not ($Inv contains "daemon collar"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "daemon collar"))] 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 mind downward, playing across your encapsulated breasts, down along your strictly corseted waist, to the meeting of your thighs. You cannot play with yourself even if you weren't bound, *They* have already claimed you, but the suit rewards your considered promiscuity nevertheless. Pleasure atop pleasure. [[Writhing, moaning, you cum again.->Fail9]]

Your last glimpse of Tysus Sargon is her standing over you as you lad upon your back. The Daemon that had been Isabella straddles your head, pressing her cunt against your glossy mask, while below the male drives his obsidian shaft into your cunt. All three of you are synced, cumming in glorious union, but it is Tysus who looks the most pleased. She had won, after all. And even came out further ahead than she had intended. Nevertheless you barely notice her leaving, as you shift positions to rub your own mask against the male's member. Understanding had come to you slowly, but They had made it clear. That lingering shame you wrestled with, at having lead yourself to this fate, it could be so easily done away with. If you 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. Of Isabella there is no sign. Had she already left? Another thing that doesn't matter. 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. (colour: purple)[*"Daemon..."*] [[Six months later.->DaeEx]]

=><= <img src="https://i.imgur.com/L52B6uP.png" width="50%" height="50%"> Basic Doll Gag: *a laminate ball gag, of the trainer style to ensure you cannot remove it during transport. Seated behind your teeth it forces your lips apart, and reduces any sound you attempt to a moaned mmmmmgh!*

=><= <img src="https://i.imgur.com/gh59YMk.png" width="50%" height="50%"> Basic Doll Binder: *a heavy laminate armbinder, this device cruelly forces your arms back and behind you. Straps across your shoulders and chest anchor it, but heavy locks ensure you are not capable of removing it regardless. Despite its strict embrace the actual laminate is rather thin, and indicator of high quality construction.*

=><= <img src="https://i.imgur.com/jw2GOHr.png" width="50%" height="50%"> Slave Suit Plugs: *a set of thick laminate phalli, one each for your front and rear entrances. With every step you feel them shift within you, tweaking your pleasure centers freely. You can feel a bit of your own natural lubrication running down your leg in excitement.*

All images used in *Lost in Laminate* are sourced from a variety of publicly hosted sites, and are included solely to provide additional context and inspiration. Attribution can be difficult in these circumstances, and I have made every effort to include watermarks and signatures if available. They are not distributed with the game, and I do not claim ownership or rights to any such visual material. [[Go back.->New Intro]]

To navigate the story, click the pink highlighted links. You can click the 'back' and 'forward' arrows up top if you want to change your decisions, but don't use the refresh, back, or forward buttons on your browser. Additional permanent trackers and an inventory will be become available via the top bar as you play, and update automatically. [[Go back.->New Intro]]

Lost in Laminate is, and always will be, free in its entirety. But I have had quite a few requests from players to establish some way for folks to show their support for this writing project. As such, if you would like to contribute to my personal tip jar via Patreon you can find it at the following link: (link: "clicking here.")[(goto-url: 'https://www.patreon.com/GlossandGlamour')] If you do go that extra mile, thank you! ~~ Glossandglamour, the Author [[Go Back.->New Intro]]

Extra variables loaded. (set: $Status to 2)(set: $Gear to 5)(set: $Daemon to false)(set: $Level to 3) (colour: red)[WARNING: Using this to skip ahead will break things if you do not accept Isabella's offer!] Continue: (link:"Click Me!")[(go-to:"Slave Commit")]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/iSsfeuO.jpg" width="40%" height="40%"> What emerges is hard to identify as the scholarly Mistress Sargon. The base of her outfit is now constituted by a black catsuit, but her every liberty is as restrained as your own. From the pair of gags, ring and cock, seated in her mouth to the collar at her throat, from the bolero straitjacket holding her arms beneath her breasts to the way her hips shift with the obvious signs of plugs being installed, you recognize in that moment just how quickly Torei's laminate embrace could turn on a person. Tysus has been installed within a slave suit, her own plotting have backfired spectacularly. "Oh, now *this* is a treat," Isabella breaths, her tone like laminate itself: smooth and alluring, but backed with all manner of sensual promises. Tysus is clearly less amused, her eyes shooting your Mistress daggers, but her struggling is clearly achieving little. In fact she almost topples herself, but Isabella is quickly to steady her, even as she gives you another glance. "I would suspect this particular outfit choice is her's, but reversing it upon her is quite inspired. Very good, my slave. Now..." she turns, still guiding Tysus with hands upon her shoulders. Talking as she walks, you follow dutifully. "Do not look so cross with me, Tysus," she all but purrs. "There is nothing more dangerous than the game our families play, after all, and I do think you underestimated my new pawn." Crossing the antechamber back into the bedroom, she lines you up shoulder to shoulder with Tysus-- before forcibly pushing you both down upon the massive bed. [[Your happy moan is matched with the Sargon's grunt of fear.->TaskPass3]]

As Tysus impacts the slick sheets of the laminated bed beside you, the discomfort, concern, and most readily *fear* is evident in her expression. To her cyclonic discontent you are quite calm however, having grown accustomed to Isabella's forceful nature, and the sensation of helplessness. To most Torean slaves you would still be a novice in most things, of course, but compared to the fallen Mistress you're a veritable expert. And you sense that difference will soon be made apparent as Isabella looks down on you both, a gloved finger held to her lips in thought. "Obviously we will *not* be utilizing the plan we discussed earlier." Her crimson lips hold a smirk between each spoken word, although without her mirrored glasses she does seem a *bit* more approachable. As approachable as a fully empowered Torean dominatrix could be. Continuing, she moves back and forth, as if considering alternatives-- even though you know her well enough to recognize a decision has already been made. "I suspect you will not give me the passcode to your glass?" Isabella's question is met with an immediate shake of Tysus' head, her anger having been stoked enough to rise to such a direct challenge. Even so, your Mistress clearly had expected it. "As you will. I am certain I will be able to convince you, Tysus. I am *quite* experienced with getting what I want from someone in a uniform such as that." Her teeth are white, you almost imagine her fanged, a predator smiling over dinner. Being on the menu somehow pleases you. "And it just so happens my new slave has performed admirably today. Enough to earn a reward. I do believe we will gag two slaves with a single ball, as the saying goes. If... my slave is ready?" [[Moan eagerly!->Task4]] [[Wriggle in your bondage.->Task4]]

"Very good." Halting her pacing, Isabella takes an imperious position standing above you both. Her steel-tipped heels click resolutely upon the floor below. "The game we three will be playing is predicated on pleasure, but as a warning I will *not* allow either of you to cum without permission." Even such a simple command clearly distresses Tysus, most probably at the prospect of confronting the *need* for such an order, but Isabella merely speaks over what her gag allows to escape. "I am well assured, my slave, that you know how to use your tongue when given a task. I will presume the same of the rest of your body. You will use Tysus for your pleasure, however you can manage. I will observe, assist, and eventually take part... but you will take the lead for the moment." You shift your laminated-covered head, only to meet Tysus already looking your way, the base of the cock lodged between her lips shifting minutely-- you imagine she's sucking on the shaft from the tension. Her eyes speak to anxiety, and quite a bit of indignation at being used in such a manner. Such concerns are pushed from your mind completely. Your Mistress, the one who's pendent hung from your collar, had given you a command. How will you follow it? [[Wriggle closer to Tysus, try to press your gag to her's.->Task5Gag]] [[Roll over and mount her, at the hips.->Task5]] [[Roll over and mount her, at her head.->Task5Head]]

Your straitjacket and corset do not allow much in upper body movement, but by squirming you manage to shift closer towards the equally bound Tysus. She meets your coming with suspicion, your roll onto your side and shoulder with apprehension. When you move to gaze into her eyes she shifts her own down, although that only has her staring at the black laminate that covered your breasts and arms. You counter by pressing your head forward, bringing the base of your gag against her own. Again obsidian laminate meets its counterpart upon the Sargon, but while you provide a sensual gagged kiss she remains distant. In a similar situation you would have given back immediately, surrendering to inhibition, but Tysus remains passive-- either unsure or unwilling. Either way you recognize another tactic would be required. [[Roll over, and mount her.->Task5]]

You adjust your positioning, sliding your knees, moving at a right angle to the Sargon laying upon her back. As she looks up to you, wary and unwilling to engage, you come hip-to-hip with her. From there your own instincts take over, the frustrating desire to utilize your plugged holes driving your pelvis forward and down, grinding gently against Tysus' equally sealed cunt. The sensation that develops is immediate, and unbelievably *good.* You've debased yourself before, surrendering to inhibition, but never in a manner like this-- with another 'slave' beneath you, her own glossy laminate sliding all but effortlessly against your own. The material of your suits was designed for that, of course, being as slick to the touch of other laminate as anything else-- a mild protection against slaves pleasing themselves too easily. And you would in fact have achieved little, were it not for the way the base of your plugs press against Tysus'. She clearly feels it too, her eyes widening, her head lifting from the bed as she tries to say something. It emerges as little more than a moan however, one that you join in, looking down upon her with amusement. That seems to anger her, but her body betrays her, and for the first time her own hips twitch-- reciprocating. [[Set a slow pace.->Task6Slow]] [[Set a quick pace.->Task6Fast]]

Rolling over, you twist your hips, using the momentum to land upon your knees. Tysus remains below you, looking up with shock, before you eclipse her vision by sliding forward-- one knee each to her shoulders. The position places the glossy laminate of your thighs and the meeting of your legs directly above her head, which you quickly take advantage of. Lowering yourself you press your zippered cunt, forbidden to you by lock and key, against the equally smooth laminate of her mask. The Sargon shifts, trying to turn away, but your thighs shepherd her-- forcing her to keep looking up. What she does not prove, however, is immediately helpful. In a similar situation you may have pressed your head up, grinding your mouth and thus gag into the meeting of the thighs above, by Tysus remains passive-- either unsure or unwilling. Either way, you work your hips back and forth, allowing the barest fire to be lit upon your fuse before realizing you will need to try another tactic. [[Shift back down and mount her at the hips.->Task5]]

The seated Mistress peers up at you through mirrored glasses, her lips a sharp slant. "No, you're not. As I said, I want you to think about it. At the very least walk around a bit. This is not a decision I want you rushing into lightly." She gestures dismissively. "Clearly you need some practice following commands, anyway." [[Suitably chagrined, you let the topic drop.->Isabella Hub]]

Your suit spurs you on, through the packed streets of Grand Aekora. Those walking about the street ignore you, other slaves passively, those without collars in a manner that forces you to step out of the way lest you be run over. And your suit never strays far from the lash, spurring you on with sharp shocks and the occasional inspiration only Torean aphrodisiacs could provide. Left, right-- faster, always faster. Passing from the financial district you enter a set of townhouses, the trendy abodes of those rich enough to own property this deep into downtown yet desiring something more than a penthouse. That put them a bit from the hustle and bustle of downtown proper, but still within easy enough walking range-- although of course such persons would take carriages most often. Yet your destination finally does come into view, and stepping up to the heavy door you use the steel knocker. [[Knock, knock, knock...->CourEnd6]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/eI7PaaO.jpg" width="35%" height="35%"> (if: $CorSlave is true)[You have sunken deep into the heady cocktail of submission and desire your suit constantly edged you towards, but the woman who answers the door is a shock of reality that burns through the chemical rush. She looks different, *very* different: her hair is blonde now, short cut and stylish, and her make is heavy and alluring, in the Torean manner. But of course your eyes drift down to her uniform, a mixture of black and white laminate servant's livery. The skirt is short, the corset tight, the laminate across her breasts taut enough to reveal pierced nipples. Yet you recognize her nevertheless: *Corinth.*](else:)[You have sunken deep into the heady cocktail of submission and desire your suit constantly edged you towards, but the woman who answers the door is a shock reality that burns through the chemical rush-- or is perhaps exacerbated by it. Her hair is short and blonde, stylish, but of course your attention is drawn to the black and white laminate of her servant's livery. The skirt is short, the corset tight, the laminate across her breasts taut enough to reveal pierced nipples. A fire burns between your legs her appearance only furthers.] (if: $CorSlave is true)[Yet she doesn't recognize you. How could she, beneath your layers of heavy laminate? You are an anonymous slave, labeled only with your number: Courier #381.] The soubrette, you recognize the traditional Torean role easily, peers at your mask intently. (if: $CorSlave is true)[Perhaps she *did* recognize you? No. Corinth](else:)[The sourbrette] purses her lips, then speaks. "This is the Royallis estate," you are not given pleasantries or a proper greeting, given your status as a lowly slave, "you have a delivery I presume?" [[Nod your head.->Cour7F]] [[Begin the greeting protocol.->Cour7]]

You take a slow pace, despite your own passions begging for more. Somewhere deep down, below the laminate and bondage, beneath your own submissiveness you recognize that *you* have the greater experience here. You can take it, in a way Tysus almost certainly cannot. So you work your hips in languid, smooth strokes against the Sargon's own sealed womanhood. She holds out for a bit, glaring up at you with distinct rage, but you perhaps more than any other know that Torei's particular delights have a tendency to seduce even the most resistant. You're not sure where, reveling in the sensations as you are, but somewhere your fellow slave begins to try and force you to move quicker. That you put down easily enough, seated atop her as you are it requires only leveraging your hips-- but it induces Tysus to change tactics, now matching your careful movements. Cunt to cunt, plug to plug, you work against each other. [[Lean over, kiss her.->Task7Kiss]] [[Lean over, press your breasts to hers.->Task7Breast]]

You take a quick pace, giving in to your own passions begging for such a release. Somewhere deep down, below the laminate and bondage, beneath your own submissiveness you recognize something else, however. *You* have the greater experience here. You can take it, in a way Tysus almost certainly cannot. So you work your hips in bold, sharp strokes against the Sargon's own sealed womanhood. She holds out for a bit, glaring up at you with distinct rage, but you perhaps more than any other know that Torei's particular delights have a tendency to seduce even the most resistant. Your own desires grow, and so in turn do Tysus'. You're not sure where, reveling in the sensations as you are, but somewhere your fellow slave begins to try and match you. Cunt to cunt, plug to plug, you work against each other. [[Lean over, kiss her.->Task7Kiss]] [[Lean over, press your breasts to hers.->Task7Breast]]

Your straitjacket and corset make it difficult, requiring a distinct display of core strength, but carefully you lower yourself upon Tysus-- while keeping the pace you had established with her. Waist to waist, breast to breast, you eventually settle down upon her completely. She squirms, trying to avert her eyes, but you hold her steady and continue forward, pressing your gagged mouth against her own. More ebony laminate finds its counterpart on the noblewoman, coming with a bit of discomfort as the cock installed between your teeth shifts against your throat, but you endure-- if only to watch the far more obvious reaction Tysus has to her gag acting in a similar manner. Yet she does finally meet your eyes, even as your cunts continue to grind against each other, her lids falling into a half-veiled gaze that you recognize as... contentment. Sexual frustration, yes, but also a distinct pleasure that is derived from your guidance and actions. And that is exactly when your Mistress' voice interrupts. "Ass up, my slave," Isabella commands, her hand falling upon the lacing of your corset. "Present your cunt." [[With a frustrated mewl, lift your hips and present yourself, as requested.->Task8Pass]] [[You're close to climax, keep humping Tysus!->Task8Fail]]

Leaning down, just a bit, shifts the effort of your hips. The new angle forces your thrusting efforts to adjust, and Tysus struggles to follow, but she manages to again match your pacing after a gagged growl of annoyance. She wanted your attentions, your plugged cunt, more than she would have ever readily admitted mere minutes ago. Yet you go even further, bringing your breasts down to meet Tysus' own. She's not pierced as you are, but her nubs are hardened from the sensuality you share, and she clearly fights to prevent herself from delighting in the teasing pleasure that is derived from the way you press your own against her. [[Lean down further, kiss her.->Task7Kiss]]

You may be driven by your passions, quite literally a slave to them, but there is one thing that overrides such thoughts-- the will of your Mistress. Her command, to lift your hips and present yourself, is clearly intended to separate your plugged nexus from Tysus' own, thus denying you any chance for an easy climax. But you obey, keeping your chest and lips pressed against the Sargon but lifting your rear, your spread legs presenting the gap between your thighs to the Mistress behind. Tysus is less understanding, and tries to follow your hips, to continue the effort, but her position doesn't allow it. When she recognizes just what she was doing it seems to shock her back into compliance as she drops her hips, turning her head to the side as she looks away. You can imagine her cheeks burning red beneath the black laminate of her mask. "Very good..." Isabella meanwhile purrs from behind you, out of sight. You cannot see her, but her touch follows shortly thereafter, her gloved hand almost electrifying in the way it makes you yearn for more. She was a proper Torean Mistress after all, with years of experience and apparently a small harem of other slaves. You cannot imagine how intimately skilled she could be at this. Whatever the case its certainly enough in that moment to induce a shiver down your back as she freely explores the gap between your thighs, a fingertip starting at your naval as she glides slowly across the smooth expanse, down between your legs proper and the hilt of the first plug entombed there. Tysus is treated to the same experience, her squawked surprise making that obvious, but it is to you alone that Isabella continues. "You're a very good girl... mhm. Are you a cock hungry fucktoy?" The way she leaned into each subsequent word, as if driving them into your soul, is as teasing as her touch. [[Moan readily, holding your pose.->Task9Pass]] [[Moan readily, pressing into her touch further.->Task9Fail]]

You are driven by your passions, quite literally a slave to them, and cannot stop there. Her command, to lift your hips and present yourself, is clearly intended to separate your plugged nexus from Tysus' own, thus denying you any chance for an easy climax. So you persist, pressing into Tysus who eagerly follows suit-- although she does look away when she recognizes just what she was doing. You can imagine her cheeks burning red beneath the black laminate of her mask. "No," Isabella answers with a purr from behind you, out of sight. You cannot see her, but her touch follows shortly thereafter, her gloved hand almost electrifying in the way it makes you yearn for more. She was a proper Torean Mistress after all, with years of experience and apparently a small harem of other slaves. You cannot imagine how intimately skilled she could be at this. Yet in that moment she slides her hand between you and Tysus, forcing you apart and then slapping you sharply against the plug-- driving it into you, a sharp pain following as you snap instinctively into the position she had demanded. Its enough in that moment to induce a shiver down your back as she then shifts to freely exploring the gap between your thighs, a fingertip starting at your naval as she glides slowly across the smooth expanse, down between your legs proper and the hilt of the first plug entombed there. Tysus is treated to the same experience, her squawked surprise making that obvious, but it is to you alone that Isabella continues. "You will remember your place, or you *will* be punished further for it Do you understand? Of course you do." She pauses for a second there, then leans in even closer. "Are you a cock hungry fucktoy?" The way she spoke into each subsequent word, as if driving them into your soul, is as teasing as her touch. [[Moan readily, holding your pose.->Task9Pass]] [[Moan readily, pressing into her touch further.->Task9Fail]]

Its torture to hold your position, despite her teasing, despite Tysus' curvaceous form pressed against your own. But you do, for Isabella, even as a tremble slightly. Your gagged answer, and your effort, are rewarded immediately by a grinding press of the plug sealed inside your cunt by your Mistress. She even cups your womanhood directly, palm firmly between your legs, as satisfaction rings in her voice. "You're *my* fucktoy. Remember that. The only thing you should live for is pleasure. Mine, and what I allow you to have of your own. I'm still deciding if I will allow you to cum during this..." You can hear the smirk in her voice, even as her hand retreats, and you're left to coldly hold position as Isabella's attention shifts to Tysus. "How about you?" The Sargon may have been momentarily swayed by your efforts, but to her rival she stiffens, huffing into her gag in an effort to ignore what you can only imagine is Isabella's hand upon her own slit. Your Mistress is unperturbed. "We shall see, Tysus. We shall see..." There is a snap, you suspect a slap against the other slave-suited woman's cunt, followed by Isabella standing from the bed again. "Reverse position, I want your cunt above her head. Quickly now!" [[You move to obey, as the sound of chains being withdrawn from the nightstand nearby breaks the quiet.->Task10]]

You break from your position to press against her hand, lost to the sensation of her touch. Your gagged answer, and your effort, are rewarded immediately by a grinding press of the plug sealed inside your cunt by your Mistress. She even cups your womanhood directly, palm firmly between your legs, yet a warning rings in her voice. "You're *my* fucktoy. Remember that. The only thing you should live for is pleasure. Mine, and what I allow you to have of your own. You must learn to follow my instructions, I'm still deciding if I will allow you to cum during this, and you're losing ground..." You can hear the smirk in her voice, even as her hand retreats, and you're left to coldly hold position as Isabella's attention shifts to Tysus. "How about you?" The Sargon may have been momentarily swayed by your efforts, but to her rival she stiffens, huffing into her gag in an effort to ignore what you can only imagine is Isabella's hand upon her own slit. Your Mistress is unperturbed. "We shall see, Tysus. We shall see..." There is a snap, you suspect a slap against the other slave-suited woman's cunt, followed by Isabella standing from the bed again. "Reverse position, I want your cunt above her head. Quickly now!" [[You move to obey, as the sound of chains being withdrawn from the nightstand nearby breaks the quiet.->Task10]]

Tysus remains in place as you adjust your position, moving carefully so as not to topple over given your straitjacket. As you do so Isabella hooks the first of the chains she had retrieved to the cuff of the Sargon's right ankle, linking it to the corner post of the bed-- which helpfully featured a d-ring for just such purposes. A second chain follows for her other leg, forcing them to spread, before she repeats the effort on you. One chain each is hooked to your ankles as you straddle Tysus, although your leads are hooked to the opposite side of the bed. "Ass up," Isabella then repeats, approaching you from behind. Without seeking your consent, or indicating her intent, she pulls down the zipper that ran between your legs. The hint of fresh air upon your nether lips is almost cruelly intense, yet the torture only increases as she seizes the first of the plugs and pulls it out. With a wet squelch your cunt is freed, the retreat as tantalizing as the thought of the member thrusting, yet the wetness that sticks to the cock and runs down your leg only serves to induce Tysus' ire-- some of it lands upon her mask. Your rear plug comes out moments later, although Isabella twists it just a bit as if in mirth. (if: $Inv contains "slave suit plugs")[(set: $Inv to $Inv - (a: "slave suit plugs"))] (colour: green)[Slave Suit Plugs removed!] As you gasp at the sudden liberty Isabella continues, moving next to your mouth where her gloved fingers land upon the third cock buried there. Slowly she pulls it free, grinning as she watches you try not to gag, even as your tongue chases the member-- it had grown so used to the presence. Once the tip finally leaves your lips, she tosses it aside, then retreats. (if: $Inv contains "oral cock insert")[(set: $Inv to $Inv - (a: "oral cock insert"))] (colour: green)[Oral Cock Insert removed!] [[Instead of proceeding with your ring gag, however, she moves to Tysus.->Task11]]

Instinctually you try to reach down, to play with the liberty Isabella had allowed you. Of course you achieve little beyond the sound of the heavy laminate of your straitjacket shifting, the restraints well considered in that moment. So too do your legs try to come together, to perhaps allow the laminate of your thigh to press against your exposed womanhood, but the chains quickly go taut and you can only moan-- a sound that does emerge much louder without a cock between your lips. "Patience," Isabella commands, as she works to shift Tysus into much the same situation. Her gag is removed as well, although Isabella only withdraws her vaginal plug, allowing the rear insert to remain. Even so, you cannot help but stare down at the pale flesh between her obsidian-coated legs. Only your Mistress' further touch breaks its hold upon you, as she runs a final chain from your collar down between your breasts, where she links it with Tysus'. "We are going to play a little game," she then explains, returning to the nightstand to search out something else. "A simple one, but good training for my slave... and perhaps instructive for a Sargon too, hm? The rules are simple. First one to cum *loses.*" She pulls forth a riding crop, the short rod tipped with a rectangular bit of hardened laminate. You bite down upon your ring gag before even realizing it, thinking of its sting. Isabella however simply continues. "As you've undoubtedly noticed, your chains prevent you from moving off each other-- and your position, head to cunt, allows access to each other's slits. I will not be removing your ring gags, slaves have little to say of importance, but your tongue is still readily available is it not?" [[You allow yours to slide through the gap of the ring, hanging lewdly, as you look down upon Tysus' slit.->Task12]]

"Now I know one of you is a *bit* more experienced in pleasuring others," Isabella continues. "So to even the odds, I removed my slave's secondary plug..." She pulls from the draw a long, glossy member. Another cock, but this one affixed to a series of straps she begins placing around her hips. It takes you a moment, but once the phallus is hanging lewdly from her hips you recognize it for what it is: a strap-on. Just in time too, as Isabella smiles. "...I will be working her ass. Which, I do suspect, she will rather *enjoy.*" Ratcheting the last of the straps in place, Isabella crosses to the bed, kneeling upon the bed behind you. Pressing her hips forward, she runs the cock lewdly between your legs-- teasing-- before positioning it near you rear. "Are the rules clear, girls?" Tysus moans in resignation. "Good. Now let's put those tongues to work!" (set: $Strike to 0)(set: $PP to 0)(set: $OO to 0)(set: $Strikefix to 0)(set: $Strike2 to 0)(set: $IsGame to 0)(set: $TysusStat to 0) [[It begins.->TaskMain]]

(if: $Strike is < 0)[(set: $Strike to 0)](if: $PP is < 0)[(set: $PP to 0)](if: $Strike is > 20 and $PP is > 20)[Like a symphony in action, both you and Tysus rise to the crescendo in glorious unison. She writhes and moans beneath you, a gagged moan cut off as you grind your cunt into her mouth. She in turn thrusts her own into yours, a returned favor that comes as you pull fruitlessly against your straitjacket and restraints-- trying to close your legs, to further the pleasure more than to protect yourself at this point. But its all in vain, or proceeds exactly as intended depending on your state of mind. Either way, you and Tysus cum together. The peak of the mountain that is your climax is as cool and rewarding as you could have ever dreamed, the waves of adoring pleasure furthered by the cock Isabella still plunges into your rear. Quivering, moaning like a slut in heat, you eventually crest the finally hill and begin the long slide down into the afterglow. [[Its only then you begin to realize you've not lost the game, but tied it.->FinTie]]](else-if: $Strike is > 20)[You've got her now. Even as you continue to work your tongue you feel Tysus shift in a way she had not previously, a sharp pull against her restraints, a quiver in her thighs that marked a crescendo she could not resist. The peak of her climax had been reached, and you gleefully push her over, the fallen Mistress moaning in mindless ecstasy as she cums wildly. Yet in a last desperate throw of the dice she tries to return the favor, pressing her gagged lips against your cunt, seeking your clit with her tongue. Finding it, she works as hard and as quickly as she can, trying to drag you off that cliff into the abyss of rapture with her. (set: $PP to it + 5) (if: $PP is > 20)[[[And you begin to fall...->TyFail]]](else:)[[[And you begin to fall...->TyPass]]]](else-if: $PP is > 20)[You feel it coming before you even recognize what it is. A writhing tensing of all your muscles, a moan you cannot contain-- the peak of your pleasure. Climax. Its as glorious as you had dreamed of, a sudden release that comes as you pull fruitlessly against your straitjacket and chains, trying to bring your legs together-- although you're no longer sure if its purely defensive, or merely an effort to hold Tysus' tongue within you. You cum, hard-- and yet in that moment recognize a last chance, if not for a win, then a tie-- if you move quickly you could find Tysus' clit, stimulate her with every ounce of coherent thought still possible within your sex crazed brain... [[Try it!->PlayerTry]] [[Give in, you're too weak...->PlayerRefute]]](else:)[(colour: green)[(if: $Strike is < 1)[Tysus is below you, exposed to your tongue.]](colour: green)[(if: $Strike is 1 or 2 or 3 or 4)[Tysus is wriggling slightly, your efforts are starting to bear fruit.]](colour: yellow)[(if: $Strike is 5 or 6 or 7 or 8 or 9)[Tysus' folds are wet, and she's panting gently beneath you.]](colour: orange)[(if: $Strike is 10 or 11 or 12 or 13 or 14 or 15)[Tysus squirms beneath you, her breathing labored. She's approaching her limits.]](colour: red)[(if: $Strike is > 15)[Tysus moans openly, struggling to keep up as she teeters on the edge of climax!]] (colour: green)[(if: $PP is 0)[You're tense, awaiting Tysus' attentions, and focusing on the task before you.](if: $PP is 1 or 2 or 3 or 4)[You fight to keep your hips from twitching, Tysus' tongue between your legs beginning to have an effect on you.]](colour: yellow)[(if: $PP is 5 or 6 or 7 or 8)[Your cunt drips down upon Tysus, her efforts increasing as you begin to truly feel the effects of the dual assault upon your holes.]](colour: orange)[(if: $PP is 9 or 10 or 11 or 12 or 13 or 14)[You try to focus, both holes alive with pleasure as tongue and cock conspire to bring you closer and closer to climax. It would feel so good and, of course, disappoint your Mistress immensely.]](colour: red)[(if: $PP is > 14)[You tremble as the ache in your cunt and rear approaches the uncontrollable, your natural lubricant running down your thighs, your breathing coming in fevered pants. You can't hold on much longer!]] [[Tease Tysus' slit.->TeaseT]] [[Gently lick her slit.->GentleT]] [[Drive your tongue into her hard.->HardT]] [[Focus on her clit, maximum stimulation!->ClitT]] [[Pause for a moment, focus on controlling yourself.->FocusT]] (if: $Strike2 is 0)[[[Moan, releasing your frustrations!->MoanT]]](if: $Strike2 is 1)[[[Moan like the slut you are!->MoanT]]](if: $Strike2 is > 1)[[[Beg for punishment!->MoanT]]]]

{(if: $Strike is < 10)[(set: $Strike to it + 3)] (if: $Strike is > 9)[(set: $Strike to it + 1)] (set: $PP to it + 1) (set: $OO to (random: 1,10)) (set: $Strikefix to (random: 1,10)) }(if: $Strike is 0 or 1 or 2 or 3 or 4)[Instead of addressing Tysus' slit directly you instead your use tongue deftly, sliding it from your gagged mouth to run gently around the edges of her nether lips. Having clearly expected something more aggressive the Sargon moans quietly from your efforts, losing the fight to hold herself still as she instead arches her back, pressing her hips towards your waiting face. You take full advantage of her frustrated desire.](if: $Strike is 5 or 6 or 7 or 8 or 9)[Tysus' arousal may be climbing, but she still has a way to go-- which makes your teasing all the more effective. Pressing your lips, fixed as they are in their forced 'O' against her slit, you use your tongue to tweak and tease. Your fellow slave-suited woman writhes gently, seeking your attentions, pushing you to in turn push her further-- despite the embarrassment of it all.](if: $Strike is 10 or 11 or 12 or 13 or 14 or 15)[Already wet and well into the contest, you find your efforts coming up as less effective than they may have been previously. Tysus still responds of course, any woman would, but merely teasing is no longer getting the rise from her you would need to win this.](if: $Strike is > 15)[Tysus writhes in her bondage, the space between her legs so very wet, her back arching-- yet this deep into the context merely teasing is no longer enough. You must do better!] Beneath and between your legs, (if: $Strikefix is 1)[Tysus works at your own slit, with enthusiasm if clear inexperience. Still, even such novice work would prove eventually effective.](if: $Strikefix is 2)[Tysus attempts to tease you, running her tongue along your lower lips before entering quickly. Its mildly effective.](if: $Strikefix is 3)[Tysus struggles to tease you, perhaps seeking your clit, perhaps merely trying anything she could to win Isabella's game. She's making some headway at least.](if: $Strikefix is 4)[Tysus presses her ring-gagged mouth against your womanhood, her warm lips sensual and smooth. Her tongue is rougher and more daring, pushing you just a bit further along the path towards climax](if: $Strikefix is 5)[Tysus presses her head up hard, driving herself into you, trying to overcome her inexperience with sheer audacity. You have to admire her courage, and cannot help but feel the ache continuing to build between your legs.](if: $Strikefix is 6)[Tysus continues to work, without much in the way of imagination but plenty of grit. Exploring your fevered cunt with her tongue, she pushes you just a bit closer to the dangerous high of a proper climax.](if: $Strikefix is 7)[Tysus showers your womanhood with ring-gagged kisses, an unorthodox tactic that nevertheless seems to be working-- you can feel the ache building between your legs, that desperate need to cum after so long under Isabella's watchful eye.](if: $Strikefix is 8)[Tysus works between your legs with frantic licks, exploring your wet hole, although you find her tongue to be a poor substitute for the insert you had grown to know so well.](if: $Strikefix is 9)[Tysus presses her tongue between your lower lips, drinking of your desire, helping you towards the climax that would see you lose the game. And you almost think she's getting the hang of this, the way she works her tongue, as teasing as she is forceful.](if: $Strikefix is 10)[Tysus presses her head up as much as her restraints would allow, ignoring your own drippings upon her masked face as she tries to push you towards a greater climax. You shudder a bit in response, a clear indication its working.] {(if: $OO is 1)[(set: $PP to it + 1)Behind you Isabella applies her strap-on, the smooth laminate gliding easily into your rear. Hilting hard, she pulls out and repeats the process with care. It feels good, but you just know she isn't pushing very hard at the moment.] (if: $OO is 2)[(set: $PP to it + 1)Setting a smooth pace, Isabella takes you in the rear, her hips coming up against your cheeks as she hilts herself upon you. To your shame it feels good, being used like that.] (if: $OO is 3)[(set: $PP to it + 1)With a careful rhythm Isabella claims your rear entrance, the thick phallus she had strapped to her hips taking you freely. Squirming a bit in your bondage, a bit of drool runs down from your gag.] (if: $OO is 4)[(set: $PP to it + 1)Working her hips back and forth, Isabella continues to take you from behind, her hands resting on your haunches. You're surprised at how quickly you take to anal, although the plug that had been sealed within you had certainly primed that particular effort.] (if: $OO is 5)[(set: $PP to it + 1)Working her strap on into you slowly, your Mistress focuses on the experience, drawing it out in a languid manner that sends a shiver down your back. You cannot help but love the violation in that moment.] (if: $OO is 6)[(set: $PP to it + 2)Setting a quicker pace, one that could be described as what a vanilla person would describe as normal sex, your situation could nevertheless *never* be considered vanilla. Bound and gagged you continue to work on Tysus as Isabella freely takes you from behind.] (if: $OO is 7)[(set: $PP to it + 2)Keeping the careful movements of her hips in rhythm, Isabella nevertheless reaches between your legs, using a gloved hand to tease you just a bit further. You moan lewdly in response, having been reduced to a creature so easily teased.] (if: $OO is 8)[(set: $PP to it + 2)Gripping your hips more tightly, Isabella works her strap on with greater ferocity, driving into you with a thick slap as her laminate clad body comes up against your similarly coated rear cheeks. You have no means to resist, nor even look behind, and that realization only makes you wetter.] (if: $OO is 9)[(set: $PP to it + 3)Instead of entering you again Isabella instead twists her hips, sliding her strap-on in between your legs, running it up against your slit. Tysus is momentarily stymied, her way to your womanhood blocked, but you only feel *more* aroused as your Mistress leans in atop you. "Even though I'm letting her play with you, remember that you're *mine." Its a reminder that only leaves you wetter.] (if: $OO is 10)[(set: $PP to it + 3)Instead of a gentle pace Isabella suddenly shifts to an aggressive attack upon your rear, driving her cock into you again and again-- even slapping your ass as you moan from the sudden intrusion. Your legs quiver under the assault but she only laughs, the only one among you three who can still speak. "Come on now, you've been in that gear for hours-- I'm not making it *easy* on you!"]} [[You try to focus on the game.->TaskMain]]

{(set: $Strike to it + 2) (set: $PP to it + 1) (set: $OO to (random: 1,10)) (set: $Strikefix to (random: 1,10)) }(if: $Strike is 0 or 1 or 2 or 3 or 4)[Leaning down, you work your tongue against Tysus slit, licking her folds once before pressing in further. The Sargon moans quietly but you do not push further, instead walking the fine line between teasing and aggressive action. A solid, if uninspired, way to push her towards climax.](if: $Strike is 5 or 6 or 7 or 8 or 9)[Tysus' arousal may be climbing, but she still has a way to go-- and for the moment you choose a safe option. Working over her slit, you enter her carefully, reveling in her taste upon your tongue. She answers with a quiet little moan.](if: $Strike is 10 or 11 or 12 or 13 or 14 or 15)[The lips your tongue emerges to meet are slickened by Tysus' arousal, her body responding just as you had wanted. Neither teasing nor pushing her, you instead explore her womanhood carefully, working your tongue between the ring in your mouth with precision.](if: $Strike is > 15)[Writhing in her bondage, dripping upon the bed, Tysus is near climax-- and you hold steady, applying your tongue carefully, guiding her further and further along the path that wound that way.] Beneath and between your legs, (if: $Strikefix is 1)[Tysus works at your own slit, with enthusiasm if clear inexperience. Still, even such novice work would prove eventually effective.](if: $Strikefix is 2)[Tysus attempts to tease you, running her tongue along your lower lips before entering quickly. Its mildly effective.](if: $Strikefix is 3)[Tysus struggles to tease you, perhaps seeking your clit, perhaps merely trying anything she could to win Isabella's game. She's making some headway at least.](if: $Strikefix is 4)[Tysus presses her ring-gagged mouth against your womanhood, her warm lips sensual and smooth. Her tongue is rougher and more daring, pushing you just a bit further along the path towards climax](if: $Strikefix is 5)[Tysus presses her head up hard, driving herself into you, trying to overcome her inexperience with sheer audacity. You have to admire her courage, and cannot help but feel the ache continuing to build between your legs.](if: $Strikefix is 6)[Tysus continues to work, without much in the way of imagination but plenty of grit. Exploring your fevered cunt with her tongue, she pushes you just a bit closer to the dangerous high of a proper climax.](if: $Strikefix is 7)[Tysus showers your womanhood with ring-gagged kisses, an unorthodox tactic that nevertheless seems to be working-- you can feel the ache building between your legs, that desperate need to cum after so long under Isabella's watchful eye.](if: $Strikefix is 8)[Tysus works between your legs with frantic licks, exploring your wet hole, although you find her tongue to be a poor substitute for the insert you had grown to know so well.](if: $Strikefix is 9)[Tysus presses her tongue between your lower lips, drinking of your desire, helping you towards the climax that would see you lose the game. And you almost think she's getting the hang of this, the way she works her tongue, as teasing as she is forceful.](if: $Strikefix is 10)[Tysus presses her head up as much as her restraints would allow, ignoring your own drippings upon her masked face as she tries to push you towards a greater climax. You shudder a bit in response, a clear indication its working.] {(if: $OO is 1)[(set: $PP to it + 1)Behind you Isabella applies her strap-on, the smooth laminate gliding easily into your rear. Hilting hard, she pulls out and repeats the process with care. It feels good, but you just know she isn't pushing very hard at the moment.] (if: $OO is 2)[(set: $PP to it + 1)Setting a smooth pace, Isabella takes you in the rear, her hips coming up against your cheeks as she hilts herself upon you. To your shame it feels good, being used like that.] (if: $OO is 3)[(set: $PP to it + 1)With a careful rhythm Isabella claims your rear entrance, the thick phallus she had strapped to her hips taking you freely. Squirming a bit in your bondage, a bit of drool runs down from your gag.] (if: $OO is 4)[(set: $PP to it + 1)Working her hips back and forth, Isabella continues to take you from behind, her hands resting on your haunches. You're surprised at how quickly you take to anal, although the plug that had been sealed within you had certainly primed that particular effort.] (if: $OO is 5)[(set: $PP to it + 1)Working her strap on into you slowly, your Mistress focuses on the experience, drawing it out in a languid manner that sends a shiver down your back. You cannot help but love the violation in that moment.] (if: $OO is 6)[(set: $PP to it + 2)Setting a quicker pace, one that could be described as what a vanilla person would describe as normal sex, your situation could nevertheless *never* be considered vanilla. Bound and gagged you continue to work on Tysus as Isabella freely takes you from behind.] (if: $OO is 7)[(set: $PP to it + 2)Keeping the careful movements of her hips in rhythm, Isabella nevertheless reaches between your legs, using a gloved hand to tease you just a bit further. You moan lewdly in response, having been reduced to a creature so easily teased.] (if: $OO is 8)[(set: $PP to it + 2)Gripping your hips more tightly, Isabella works her strap on with greater ferocity, driving into you with a thick slap as her laminate clad body comes up against your similarly coated rear cheeks. You have no means to resist, nor even look behind, and that realization only makes you wetter.] (if: $OO is 9)[(set: $PP to it + 3)Instead of entering you again Isabella instead twists her hips, sliding her strap-on in between your legs, running it up against your slit. Tysus is momentarily stymied, her way to your womanhood blocked, but you only feel *more* aroused as your Mistress leans in atop you. "Even though I'm letting her play with you, remember that you're *mine." Its a reminder that only leaves you wetter.] (if: $OO is 10)[(set: $PP to it + 3)Instead of a gentle pace Isabella suddenly shifts to an aggressive attack upon your rear, driving her cock into you again and again-- even slapping your ass as you moan from the sudden intrusion. Your legs quiver under the assault but she only laughs, the only one among you three who can still speak. "Come on now, you've been in that gear for hours-- I'm not making it *easy* on you!"]} [[You move on to your next tactic.->TaskMain]]

{(if: $Strike is < 10)[(set: $Strike to it + 1)](if: $Strike is > 9)[(set: $Strike to it + 3)] (set: $PP to it + 1) (set: $OO to (random: 1,10)) (set: $Strikefix to (random: 1,10)) }(if: $Strike is 0 or 1 or 2 or 3 or 4)[Still adjusting to the contest, your bold tactic clearly takes Tysus by surprise, a gagged yelp announcing it as you enter her. Running your tongue along her inner walls, lapping up her taste, you certainly induce a bit of arousal from her-- but Tysus is not yet into enough to truly appreciate your efforts.](if: $Strike is 5 or 6 or 7 or 8 or 9)[Wriggling a bit from your earlier work, Tysus nevertheless tries to pull away as you press your mouth to her aggressively, seeking her slit. She gasps, your audacity at least achieving something, but she's not aroused enough for such straightforward efforts!](if: $Strike is 10 or 11 or 12 or 13 or 14 or 15)[The womanly lips your tongue addresses aggressively are already wet, easing the way you press inside her, eagerly seeking the nectar of her flower. Tysus responds in kind, pressing her cunt into your face, allowing you to bury yourself in it as she moans quietly.](if: $Strike is > 15)[Dripping wet and on the edge of cumming, Tysus proves an easy target for your aggressive approach, her cunt all too welcoming to the tongue you press from your gag. The slick sounds of your entering her lips is only outdone by her hungry moan, a far cry from the scholarly autocrat she had seemed upon first meeting.] Beneath and between your legs, (if: $Strikefix is 1)[Tysus works at your own slit, with enthusiasm if clear inexperience. Still, even such novice work would prove eventually effective.](if: $Strikefix is 2)[Tysus attempts to tease you, running her tongue along your lower lips before entering quickly. Its mildly effective.](if: $Strikefix is 3)[Tysus struggles to tease you, perhaps seeking your clit, perhaps merely trying anything she could to win Isabella's game. She's making some headway at least.](if: $Strikefix is 4)[Tysus presses her ring-gagged mouth against your womanhood, her warm lips sensual and smooth. Her tongue is rougher and more daring, pushing you just a bit further along the path towards climax](if: $Strikefix is 5)[Tysus presses her head up hard, driving herself into you, trying to overcome her inexperience with sheer audacity. You have to admire her courage, and cannot help but feel the ache continuing to build between your legs.](if: $Strikefix is 6)[Tysus continues to work, without much in the way of imagination but plenty of grit. Exploring your fevered cunt with her tongue, she pushes you just a bit closer to the dangerous high of a proper climax.](if: $Strikefix is 7)[Tysus showers your womanhood with ring-gagged kisses, an unorthodox tactic that nevertheless seems to be working-- you can feel the ache building between your legs, that desperate need to cum after so long under Isabella's watchful eye.](if: $Strikefix is 8)[Tysus works between your legs with frantic licks, exploring your wet hole, although you find her tongue to be a poor substitute for the insert you had grown to know so well.](if: $Strikefix is 9)[Tysus presses her tongue between your lower lips, drinking of your desire, helping you towards the climax that would see you lose the game. And you almost think she's getting the hang of this, the way she works her tongue, as teasing as she is forceful.](if: $Strikefix is 10)[Tysus presses her head up as much as her restraints would allow, ignoring your own drippings upon her masked face as she tries to push you towards a greater climax. You shudder a bit in response, a clear indication its working.] {(if: $OO is 1)[(set: $PP to it + 1)Behind you Isabella applies her strap-on, the smooth laminate gliding easily into your rear. Hilting hard, she pulls out and repeats the process with care. It feels good, but you just know she isn't pushing very hard at the moment.] (if: $OO is 2)[(set: $PP to it + 1)Setting a smooth pace, Isabella takes you in the rear, her hips coming up against your cheeks as she hilts herself upon you. To your shame it feels good, being used like that.] (if: $OO is 3)[(set: $PP to it + 1)With a careful rhythm Isabella claims your rear entrance, the thick phallus she had strapped to her hips taking you freely. Squirming a bit in your bondage, a bit of drool runs down from your gag.] (if: $OO is 4)[(set: $PP to it + 1)Working her hips back and forth, Isabella continues to take you from behind, her hands resting on your haunches. You're surprised at how quickly you take to anal, although the plug that had been sealed within you had certainly primed that particular effort.] (if: $OO is 5)[(set: $PP to it + 1)Working her strap on into you slowly, your Mistress focuses on the experience, drawing it out in a languid manner that sends a shiver down your back. You cannot help but love the violation in that moment.] (if: $OO is 6)[(set: $PP to it + 2)Setting a quicker pace, one that could be described as what a vanilla person would describe as normal sex, your situation could nevertheless *never* be considered vanilla. Bound and gagged you continue to work on Tysus as Isabella freely takes you from behind.] (if: $OO is 7)[(set: $PP to it + 2)Keeping the careful movements of her hips in rhythm, Isabella nevertheless reaches between your legs, using a gloved hand to tease you just a bit further. You moan lewdly in response, having been reduced to a creature so easily teased.] (if: $OO is 8)[(set: $PP to it + 2)Gripping your hips more tightly, Isabella works her strap on with greater ferocity, driving into you with a thick slap as her laminate clad body comes up against your similarly coated rear cheeks. You have no means to resist, nor even look behind, and that realization only makes you wetter.] (if: $OO is 9)[(set: $PP to it + 3)Instead of entering you again Isabella instead twists her hips, sliding her strap-on in between your legs, running it up against your slit. Tysus is momentarily stymied, her way to your womanhood blocked, but you only feel *more* aroused as your Mistress leans in atop you. "Even though I'm letting her play with you, remember that you're *mine." Its a reminder that only leaves you wetter.] (if: $OO is 10)[(set: $PP to it + 3)Instead of a gentle pace Isabella suddenly shifts to an aggressive attack upon your rear, driving her cock into you again and again-- even slapping your ass as you moan from the sudden intrusion. Your legs quiver under the assault but she only laughs, the only one among you three who can still speak. "Come on now, you've been in that gear for hours-- I'm not making it *easy* on you!"]} [[You move on to your next tactic.->TaskMain]]

{(if: $Strike is < 16)[(set: $Strike to it - 5)](else:)[(set: $Strike to it + 5)] (set: $PP to it + 1) (set: $OO to (random: 1,10)) (set: $Strikefix to (random: 1,10)) }(if: $Strike is < 16)[With wild disregard you plunge your head downward, down past Tysus' laminate-clad thighs, to the exposed meeting where her pale flesh stood out so clearly. There you go for the proverbial kill, boldly striking not for her womanly tunnel but just above-- to that nexus point of nerves, the point of maximum stimulation. Her clit. Your ring gag makes it difficult but you persist, pressing hard, sucking upon the flesh all around as you seek with your tongue-- and with a rolling flourish find it! Yet if you expected a climax from Tysus, you're disappointed. Instead she bucks wildly, moaning lewdly yes, but far more surprised and overstimulated to achieve what you sought. In fact your efforts have the opposite effect in the end, her arousal dropping as she seems to reassert her self control in the moment. You can only take solace in the face that your bondage prevents any escape-- this is merely a setback.](else:)[With wild disregard you plunge your head downward, down past Tysus' laminate-clad thighs, to the exposed meeting where her pale flesh stood out so clearly. There you go for the proverbial kill, boldly striking not for her womanly tunnel but just above-- to that nexus point of nerves, the point of maximum stimulation. Her clit. Your ring gag makes it difficult but you persist, pressing hard, sucking upon the flesh all around as you seek with your tongue-- and with a rolling flourish find it! The effect is immediate, and just as you desired. Tysus head rolls back as quickly as her eyes, her back arching despite her corset, limbs straining against the straitjacket and chains that held them. You hold on for the ride, working your tongue until it aches, driving her like a skittish creatures towards the warmth and safety of a barn. And she follows gamely, riding the wave of pleasure that comes from such direct and overt stimulation. Closer and closer, even as she fights to regain control, trying in vain to focus on her own assault upon you...] Beneath and between your legs, (if: $Strikefix is 1)[Tysus works at your own slit, with enthusiasm if clear inexperience. Still, even such novice work would prove eventually effective.](if: $Strikefix is 2)[Tysus attempts to tease you, running her tongue along your lower lips before entering quickly. Its mildly effective.](if: $Strikefix is 3)[Tysus struggles to tease you, perhaps seeking your clit, perhaps merely trying anything she could to win Isabella's game. She's making some headway at least.](if: $Strikefix is 4)[Tysus presses her ring-gagged mouth against your womanhood, her warm lips sensual and smooth. Her tongue is rougher and more daring, pushing you just a bit further along the path towards climax](if: $Strikefix is 5)[Tysus presses her head up hard, driving herself into you, trying to overcome her inexperience with sheer audacity. You have to admire her courage, and cannot help but feel the ache continuing to build between your legs.](if: $Strikefix is 6)[Tysus continues to work, without much in the way of imagination but plenty of grit. Exploring your fevered cunt with her tongue, she pushes you just a bit closer to the dangerous high of a proper climax.](if: $Strikefix is 7)[Tysus showers your womanhood with ring-gagged kisses, an unorthodox tactic that nevertheless seems to be working-- you can feel the ache building between your legs, that desperate need to cum after so long under Isabella's watchful eye.](if: $Strikefix is 8)[Tysus works between your legs with frantic licks, exploring your wet hole, although you find her tongue to be a poor substitute for the insert you had grown to know so well.](if: $Strikefix is 9)[Tysus presses her tongue between your lower lips, drinking of your desire, helping you towards the climax that would see you lose the game. And you almost think she's getting the hang of this, the way she works her tongue, as teasing as she is forceful.](if: $Strikefix is 10)[Tysus presses her head up as much as her restraints would allow, ignoring your own drippings upon her masked face as she tries to push you towards a greater climax. You shudder a bit in response, a clear indication its working.] {(if: $OO is 1)[(set: $PP to it + 1)Behind you Isabella applies her strap-on, the smooth laminate gliding easily into your rear. Hilting hard, she pulls out and repeats the process with care. It feels good, but you just know she isn't pushing very hard at the moment.] (if: $OO is 2)[(set: $PP to it + 1)Setting a smooth pace, Isabella takes you in the rear, her hips coming up against your cheeks as she hilts herself upon you. To your shame it feels good, being used like that.] (if: $OO is 3)[(set: $PP to it + 1)With a careful rhythm Isabella claims your rear entrance, the thick phallus she had strapped to her hips taking you freely. Squirming a bit in your bondage, a bit of drool runs down from your gag.] (if: $OO is 4)[(set: $PP to it + 1)Working her hips back and forth, Isabella continues to take you from behind, her hands resting on your haunches. You're surprised at how quickly you take to anal, although the plug that had been sealed within you had certainly primed that particular effort.] (if: $OO is 5)[(set: $PP to it + 1)Working her strap on into you slowly, your Mistress focuses on the experience, drawing it out in a languid manner that sends a shiver down your back. You cannot help but love the violation in that moment.] (if: $OO is 6)[(set: $PP to it + 2)Setting a quicker pace, one that could be described as what a vanilla person would describe as normal sex, your situation could nevertheless *never* be considered vanilla. Bound and gagged you continue to work on Tysus as Isabella freely takes you from behind.] (if: $OO is 7)[(set: $PP to it + 2)Keeping the careful movements of her hips in rhythm, Isabella nevertheless reaches between your legs, using a gloved hand to tease you just a bit further. You moan lewdly in response, having been reduced to a creature so easily teased.] (if: $OO is 8)[(set: $PP to it + 2)Gripping your hips more tightly, Isabella works her strap on with greater ferocity, driving into you with a thick slap as her laminate clad body comes up against your similarly coated rear cheeks. You have no means to resist, nor even look behind, and that realization only makes you wetter.] (if: $OO is 9)[(set: $PP to it + 3)Instead of entering you again Isabella instead twists her hips, sliding her strap-on in between your legs, running it up against your slit. Tysus is momentarily stymied, her way to your womanhood blocked, but you only feel *more* aroused as your Mistress leans in atop you. "Even though I'm letting her play with you, remember that you're *mine." Its a reminder that only leaves you wetter.] (if: $OO is 10)[(set: $PP to it + 3)Instead of a gentle pace Isabella suddenly shifts to an aggressive attack upon your rear, driving her cock into you again and again-- even slapping your ass as you moan from the sudden intrusion. Your legs quiver under the assault but she only laughs, the only one among you three who can still speak. "Come on now, you've been in that gear for hours-- I'm not making it *easy* on you!"]} [[You move on to your next tactic.->TaskMain]]

{(set: $Strike to it - 2) (set: $PP to it - 5) (set: $OO to (random: 1,10)) (set: $Strikefix to (random: 1,10)) }(if: $OO is 0 or 1 or 2 or 3 or 4)[Tysus has achieved little upon you so far, but still you take a break, licking the lips your gag holds in a permanent 'O' as you hold back from her cunt. The Sargon of course takes no such break, and you will lose some progress on her, but you reassert a good bit of control nevertheless.](if: $OO is 5 or 6 or 7 or 8)[Feeling the first true effects of the dual assault upon you, instead of leaning down to address Tysus again you instead hold, taking a deep breath to resteady yourself. Both Tysus and Isabella continue their assault, but you recover well nevertheless.](if: $OO is 9 or 10 or 11 or 12 or or 13 or 14)[Panting and with your lips slick with Tysus' nectar, you pause, catching your breath. In such bondage this work is exhausting but you know you must persist, even if involves taking a break-- although neither Tysus nor your Mistress do. Undoubtedly you lost some ground on the slave beneath you, but gained more in your reinforced restraint.](if: $OO is > 14)[Gasping for breath, your laminated chest rising and falling with each sharp inhalation, your cunt drips down upon Tysus' face. Thus the need for a break, as tortured as it is, given neither the Sargon nor your Mistress take as much. You lose some ground, but refocusing allows you to prepare for so much more.] Beneath and between your legs, (if: $Strikefix is 1)[Tysus works at your own slit, with enthusiasm if clear inexperience. Still, even such novice work would prove eventually effective.](if: $Strikefix is 2)[Tysus attempts to tease you, running her tongue along your lower lips before entering quickly. Its mildly effective.](if: $Strikefix is 3)[Tysus struggles to tease you, perhaps seeking your clit, perhaps merely trying anything she could to win Isabella's game. She's making some headway at least.](if: $Strikefix is 4)[Tysus presses her ring-gagged mouth against your womanhood, her warm lips sensual and smooth. Her tongue is rougher and more daring, pushing you just a bit further along the path towards climax](if: $Strikefix is 5)[Tysus presses her head up hard, driving herself into you, trying to overcome her inexperience with sheer audacity. You have to admire her courage, and cannot help but feel the ache continuing to build between your legs.](if: $Strikefix is 6)[Tysus continues to work, without much in the way of imagination but plenty of grit. Exploring your fevered cunt with her tongue, she pushes you just a bit closer to the dangerous high of a proper climax.](if: $Strikefix is 7)[Tysus showers your womanhood with ring-gagged kisses, an unorthodox tactic that nevertheless seems to be working-- you can feel the ache building between your legs, that desperate need to cum after so long under Isabella's watchful eye.](if: $Strikefix is 8)[Tysus works between your legs with frantic licks, exploring your wet hole, although you find her tongue to be a poor substitute for the insert you had grown to know so well.](if: $Strikefix is 9)[Tysus presses her tongue between your lower lips, drinking of your desire, helping you towards the climax that would see you lose the game. And you almost think she's getting the hang of this, the way she works her tongue, as teasing as she is forceful.](if: $Strikefix is 10)[Tysus presses her head up as much as her restraints would allow, ignoring your own drippings upon her masked face as she tries to push you towards a greater climax. You shudder a bit in response, a clear indication its working.] {(if: $OO is 1)[(set: $PP to it + 1)Behind you Isabella applies her strap-on, the smooth laminate gliding easily into your rear. Hilting hard, she pulls out and repeats the process with care. It feels good, but you just know she isn't pushing very hard at the moment.] (if: $OO is 2)[(set: $PP to it + 1)Setting a smooth pace, Isabella takes you in the rear, her hips coming up against your cheeks as she hilts herself upon you. To your shame it feels good, being used like that.] (if: $OO is 3)[(set: $PP to it + 1)With a careful rhythm Isabella claims your rear entrance, the thick phallus she had strapped to her hips taking you freely. Squirming a bit in your bondage, a bit of drool runs down from your gag.] (if: $OO is 4)[(set: $PP to it + 1)Working her hips back and forth, Isabella continues to take you from behind, her hands resting on your haunches. You're surprised at how quickly you take to anal, although the plug that had been sealed within you had certainly primed that particular effort.] (if: $OO is 5)[(set: $PP to it + 1)Working her strap on into you slowly, your Mistress focuses on the experience, drawing it out in a languid manner that sends a shiver down your back. You cannot help but love the violation in that moment.] (if: $OO is 6)[(set: $PP to it + 2)Setting a quicker pace, one that could be described as what a vanilla person would describe as normal sex, your situation could nevertheless *never* be considered vanilla. Bound and gagged you continue to work on Tysus as Isabella freely takes you from behind.] (if: $OO is 7)[(set: $PP to it + 2)Keeping the careful movements of her hips in rhythm, Isabella nevertheless reaches between your legs, using a gloved hand to tease you just a bit further. You moan lewdly in response, having been reduced to a creature so easily teased.] (if: $OO is 8)[(set: $PP to it + 2)Gripping your hips more tightly, Isabella works her strap on with greater ferocity, driving into you with a thick slap as her laminate clad body comes up against your similarly coated rear cheeks. You have no means to resist, nor even look behind, and that realization only makes you wetter.] (if: $OO is 9)[(set: $PP to it + 3)Instead of entering you again Isabella instead twists her hips, sliding her strap-on in between your legs, running it up against your slit. Tysus is momentarily stymied, her way to your womanhood blocked, but you only feel *more* aroused as your Mistress leans in atop you. "Even though I'm letting her play with you, remember that you're *mine." Its a reminder that only leaves you wetter.] (if: $OO is 10)[(set: $PP to it + 3)Instead of a gentle pace Isabella suddenly shifts to an aggressive attack upon your rear, driving her cock into you again and again-- even slapping your ass as you moan from the sudden intrusion. Your legs quiver under the assault but she only laughs, the only one among you three who can still speak. "Come on now, you've been in that gear for hours-- I'm not making it *easy* on you!"]} [[You move on to your next tactic.->TaskMain]]

{(set: $Strike to it - 2) (set: $PP to it - 2) (set: $OO to (random: 1,10)) (set: $Strikefix to (random: 1,10)) (set: $Strike2 to it + 1) }(if: $Strike2 is 1)[Instead of diving down between Tysus' legs you instead moan loudly, a sound that-- perhaps surprisingly-- is met from behind by your Mistress' voice. "Should be focusing on our game..." she advises, even as a hint of mirth enters her normally imperious tone. "Unless you're such a slut you cannot even handle this? Wouldn't that be interesting..."](if: $Strike2 is 2)[For the second time you moan lewdly, holding back from driving your face down between Tysus' legs. Again Isabella speaks, and again she refrains from anger. "Listen to her Tysus, *that* is a slave in need of restraint and guidance. Too wet and horny to think for herself... hmm, well-- I am not cruel. Perhaps if you beg for me to punish you, slave, I will... although you would risk losing the game. Which perhaps you deserve, as helpless to desire as you are, but there *are* consequences..."](if: $Strike2 is 3)[Drool runs from your gag as you do just as your Mistress had offered, begging openly for her guidance, her attention-- her punishment. You can't think for yourself, or control your needs. You're just a laminate doll, three holes to be filled, in need of your Mistress' strict hand. She delivers that guidance with a sudden drive of her hips forward, impaling you on her cock, the strap on thick and smooth as it takes you inch by inch. Yet even as it bottoms out, filling you so completely, it shudders-- and to your distinct *pleasure* you feel it cumming inside you! Thick seed pours into your ass as Tysus holds fast, her grip upon your flanks ensuring the (presumably facsimile) load stored within the cock emptied itself completely. Only then does pull out, thick strands running from your hole to the head of the manhood. "I wasn't intending to use that function, but... well, you get what you beg for, slave," she all but purrs. You meanwhile cannot contain your glee, as a wave of arousal burns through you. (set: $PP to it + 15)] (if: $Strike2 is < 3)[Beneath and between your legs, (if: $Strikefix is 1)[Tysus works at your own slit, with enthusiasm if clear inexperience. Still, even such novice work would prove eventually effective.](if: $Strikefix is 2)[Tysus attempts to tease you, running her tongue along your lower lips before entering quickly. Its mildly effective.](if: $Strikefix is 3)[Tysus struggles to tease you, perhaps seeking your clit, perhaps merely trying anything she could to win Isabella's game. She's making some headway at least.](if: $Strikefix is 4)[Tysus presses her ring-gagged mouth against your womanhood, her warm lips sensual and smooth. Her tongue is rougher and more daring, pushing you just a bit further along the path towards climax](if: $Strikefix is 5)[Tysus presses her head up hard, driving herself into you, trying to overcome her inexperience with sheer audacity. You have to admire her courage, and cannot help but feel the ache continuing to build between your legs.](if: $Strikefix is 6)[Tysus continues to work, without much in the way of imagination but plenty of grit. Exploring your fevered cunt with her tongue, she pushes you just a bit closer to the dangerous high of a proper climax.](if: $Strikefix is 7)[Tysus showers your womanhood with ring-gagged kisses, an unorthodox tactic that nevertheless seems to be working-- you can feel the ache building between your legs, that desperate need to cum after so long under Isabella's watchful eye.](if: $Strikefix is 8)[Tysus works between your legs with frantic licks, exploring your wet hole, although you find her tongue to be a poor substitute for the insert you had grown to know so well.](if: $Strikefix is 9)[Tysus presses her tongue between your lower lips, drinking of your desire, helping you towards the climax that would see you lose the game. And you almost think she's getting the hang of this, the way she works her tongue, as teasing as she is forceful.](if: $Strikefix is 10)[Tysus presses her head up as much as her restraints would allow, ignoring your own drippings upon her masked face as she tries to push you towards a greater climax. You shudder a bit in response, a clear indication its working.] {(if: $OO is 1)[(set: $PP to it + 1)Behind you Isabella applies her strap-on, the smooth laminate gliding easily into your rear. Hilting hard, she pulls out and repeats the process with care. It feels good, but you just know she isn't pushing very hard at the moment.] (if: $OO is 2)[(set: $PP to it + 1)Setting a smooth pace, Isabella takes you in the rear, her hips coming up against your cheeks as she hilts herself upon you. To your shame it feels good, being used like that.] (if: $OO is 3)[(set: $PP to it + 1)With a careful rhythm Isabella claims your rear entrance, the thick phallus she had strapped to her hips taking you freely. Squirming a bit in your bondage, a bit of drool runs down from your gag.] (if: $OO is 4)[(set: $PP to it + 1)Working her hips back and forth, Isabella continues to take you from behind, her hands resting on your haunches. You're surprised at how quickly you take to anal, although the plug that had been sealed within you had certainly primed that particular effort.] (if: $OO is 5)[(set: $PP to it + 1)Working her strap on into you slowly, your Mistress focuses on the experience, drawing it out in a languid manner that sends a shiver down your back. You cannot help but love the violation in that moment.] (if: $OO is 6)[(set: $PP to it + 2)Setting a quicker pace, one that could be described as what a vanilla person would describe as normal sex, your situation could nevertheless *never* be considered vanilla. Bound and gagged you continue to work on Tysus as Isabella freely takes you from behind.] (if: $OO is 7)[(set: $PP to it + 2)Keeping the careful movements of her hips in rhythm, Isabella nevertheless reaches between your legs, using a gloved hand to tease you just a bit further. You moan lewdly in response, having been reduced to a creature so easily teased.] (if: $OO is 8)[(set: $PP to it + 2)Gripping your hips more tightly, Isabella works her strap on with greater ferocity, driving into you with a thick slap as her laminate clad body comes up against your similarly coated rear cheeks. You have no means to resist, nor even look behind, and that realization only makes you wetter.] (if: $OO is 9)[(set: $PP to it + 3)Instead of entering you again Isabella instead twists her hips, sliding her strap-on in between your legs, running it up against your slit. Tysus is momentarily stymied, her way to your womanhood blocked, but you only feel *more* aroused as your Mistress leans in atop you. "Even though I'm letting her play with you, remember that you're *mine." Its a reminder that only leaves you wetter.] (if: $OO is 10)[(set: $PP to it + 3)Instead of a gentle pace Isabella suddenly shifts to an aggressive attack upon your rear, driving her cock into you again and again-- even slapping your ass as you moan from the sudden intrusion. Your legs quiver under the assault but she only laughs, the only one among you three who can still speak. "Come on now, you've been in that gear for hours-- I'm not making it *easy* on you!"]}] [[You move on to your next tactic.->TaskMain]]

(set: $IsGame to 3)Isabella's cock is withdrawn from your rear as you collapse upon Tysus, her glossy black laminate almost impossible to tell from your own as you come together. The scent of her cunt near your face entices you, just as you imagine she is experiencing much the same below. "A stalemate," Isabella finally speaks, still imperious as always, but with a soothing turn-- as if caressing you with each word, helping you down from the high of the game you had just played. Her hand upon the small of your back, where the lacing of your corset remained taut like the strings of an instrument, is gentle as she continues. "Hmm... how interesting.(if: $Strike2 is 3)[ Although perhaps unsurprising, given my slave so willingly took the handicap of a full load during the experience.] I suppose this means you have *both* earned the loser's punishment." Beneath you Tysus stirs, although she's too exhausted to achieve anything more than a groan. Even so the sound is filled with weariness, a feeling you share from cunt to tongue-- the latter especially well worked. Nevertheless Isabella remains focused, even as she begins undoing your chains. "Perhaps you should have retained your dignity, Sargon. One cannot expect much from a slave, but a Torean woman of *your* standing cumming like a whore in heat? I suspect you're ashamed." No reply comes, although as Isabella helps you off of the other slave-suited women you see her pointedly looking away. Its a reaction that Isabella accepts in stride. "It would be so easy to spread this among our shared social circles, wouldn't it? Oh, the *scandal...*" [[That you had done the same is, of course, of no consequence.->Scandal]]

Like a symphony just a bit out of tune, both you and Tysus rise to the crescendo in neat succession. She writhes and moans beneath you, a gagged sound cut off as you grind your cunt into her mouth. She in turn thrusts her own into yours, a returned favor that comes as you pull fruitlessly against your straitjacket and restraints-- trying to close your legs, to further the pleasure more than to protect yourself at this point. But its all in vain, or proceeds exactly as intended depending on your state of mind. Either way, you and Tysus cum together. The peak of the mountain that is your climax is as cool and rewarding as you could have ever dreamed, the waves of adoring pleasure furthered by the cock Isabella still plunges into your rear. Quivering, moaning like a slut in heat, you eventually crest the final hill and begin the long slide down into the afterglow. [[Its only then you begin to realize you've not lost the game, but tied it.->FinTie]]

Grasping within your pleasure wracked mind, somewhere, somehow you find a handhold to weather the storm. Tysus' last desperate act fails as she collapses back onto the bed, the strength to hold herself up draining away as she cums *hard.* You're left above her, gasping for breath, utterly exhausted, and so very frustrated-- yet victorious. Behind you Isabella withdraws her phallic weapon, and instead leans over you, her laminate touch gentle. Her tone is soft, still firm but soothing, guiding you away from the lingering thought to just abandon restraint and allow yourself to cum-- to lose in your moment of triumph. "How very good, yes... my good girl... you won... and I bet you're so very horny, aren't you? I can see you dripping." (set: $IsGame to 1) [[Moan weakly.->TyPassMoan]] [[Merely nod.->TyPassNod]]

With the last bit of your strength and self control, you throw yourself at Tysus, burying your head between her legs. Seeking her clit you find it by touch more than sight, running your tongue up against it as you press your gagged lips moments latter-- doing everything in that moment to force her over the edge. (set: $Strike to it + 5) (if: $Strike is > 20)[[[But is it enough?->LastTie]]](else:)[[[But is it enough?->LastLose]]]

There is a sense of triumph from Tysus as you cum alone, lost to the whims of your own body as you moan lewdly, drool running down your chin to land upon your chest. The peak of the mountain that is your climax is as cool and rewarding as you could have ever dreamed, the waves of adoring pleasure furthered by the cock Isabella still plunges into your rear. Quivering, moaning like a slut in heat, you eventually crest the final hill and begin the long slide down into the afterglow. [[You lost the game...->FinLose]]

"Good," Isabella responds to your moan, as she pulls away. You collapse upon Tysus, her glossy black laminate almost impossible to tell from your own as you come together. The scent of her cunt near your face entices you, just as you imagine she is experiencing much the same below. "I suspected you would win, even against a Torean born and bred. You've certainly earned a reward, but first... Tysus, are you done cumming, dear?" Beneath you Tysus stirs, although she's too exhausted to achieve anything more than a groan. Even so the sound is filled with weariness, a feeling you share from cunt to tongue-- the latter especially well worked. Nevertheless Isabella remains focused, even as she begins undoing your chains. "Perhaps you should have retained your dignity, Sargon. One cannot expect much from a slave, but a Torean woman of *your* standing cumming like a whore in heat? I suspect you're ashamed." No reply comes, although as Isabella helps you off of the other slave-suited women you see her pointedly looking away. Its a reaction that Isabella accepts in stride. "It would be so easy to spread this among our shared social circles, wouldn't it? Oh, the *scandal...*" [[Isabella knew exactly what she was doing.->Scandal]]

"Good," Isabella responds to your nod, as she pulls away. You collapse upon Tysus, her glossy black laminate almost impossible to tell from your own as you come together. The scent of her cunt near your face entices you, just as you imagine she is experiencing much the same below. "I suspected you would win, even against a Torean born and bred. You've certainly earned a reward, but first... Tysus, are you done cumming, dear?" Beneath you Tysus stirs, although she's too exhausted to achieve anything more than a groan. Even so the sound is filled with weariness, a feeling you share from cunt to tongue-- the latter especially well worked. Nevertheless Isabella remains focused, even as she begins undoing your chains. "Perhaps you should have retained your dignity, Sargon. One cannot expect much from a slave, but a Torean woman of *your* standing cumming like a whore in heat? I suspect you're ashamed." No reply comes, although as Isabella helps you off of the other slave-suited women you see her pointedly looking away. Its a reaction that Isabella accepts in stride. "It would be so easy to spread this among our shared social circles, wouldn't it? Oh, the *scandal...*" [[Isabella knew exactly what she was doing.->Scandal]]

You cannot see her reaction with your head between her legs, but you can *feel* the way Tysus suddenly tenses, her victory in danger in that last fleeting moment. Clearly she had not expected your last desperate gamble. Quickly your strength fades however, the ecstasy of your orgasm overtaking you and you retreat-- yet only then do you realize your success. Like a symphony just a bit out of tune, both you and Tysus rise to the crescendo in quick succession. She writhes and moans beneath you, a gagged moan cut off as you grind your cunt into her mouth. She in turn thrusts her own into yours, a returned favor that comes as you pull fruitlessly against your straitjacket and restraints-- trying to close your legs, to further the pleasure more than to protect yourself at this point. But its all in vain, or proceeds exactly as intended depending on your state of mind. Either way, you and Tysus cum together. The peak of the mountain that is your climax is as cool and rewarding as you could have ever dreamed, the waves of adoring pleasure furthered by the cock Isabella still plunges into your rear. Quivering, moaning like a slut in heat, you eventually crest the final hill and begin the long slide down into the afterglow. [[Its only then you begin to realize you've not lost the game, but tied it.->FinTie]]

(set: $IsGame to 2)Isabella's cock is withdrawn from your rear as you collapse upon Tysus, her glossy black laminate almost impossible to tell from your own as you come together. The scent of her cunt near your face entices you, just as you imagine she is experiencing much the same below. "A loss for my property," Isabella finally speaks, still imperious as always, but with a soothing turn-- as if caressing you with each word, helping you down from the high of the game you had just played. Her hand upon the small of your back, where the lacing of your corset remained taut like the strings of an instrument, is gentle as she continues. "Hmm... how interesting.(if: $Strike2 is 3)[ Although perhaps unsurprising, given my slave so willingly took the handicap of a full load during the experience.] I suppose this means I will have to punish my slave, but that will wait for the moment. Tysus, dear, are you done cumming?" Beneath you Tysus stirs, although she's too exhausted to achieve anything more than a groan. Even so the sound is filled with weariness, a feeling you share from cunt to tongue-- the latter especially well worked. Nevertheless Isabella remains focused, even as she begins undoing your chains. "Perhaps you should have retained your dignity, Sargon. One cannot expect much from a slave, but a Torean woman of *your* standing working so *eagerly* to please a mere slave? I suspect you're ashamed." No reply comes, although as Isabella helps you off of the other slave-suited women you see her pointedly looking away. Its a reaction that Isabella accepts in stride. "It would be so easy to spread this among our shared social circles, wouldn't it? Oh, the *scandal...*" [[That you had done the same is, of course, of no consequence.->Scandal]]

*That* clearly catches Tysus' attention, an angry squawk emerging from her gag as she sits up-- now that your chains have been removed and you have rolled off her, she at least manages that. At meeting Isabella's eyes however, when she is so *right*, proves to be far more difficult. The Sargon is left to growl, although even that cuts off when she realizes her zipper is still down, and instead pulls her legs hastily together. "I thought the same," Isabella continues, with a clear smirk upon her crimson lips. "So I am willing to make a deal with you, a very simple one. Not like the backhanded lies that got you into this situation, hm? I want the access codes for your glass device, so that I may send the request for my slave to be negotiated out of the AI's attention on her behalf. That's it, and I will tell not a soul of what has occurred here." Crossing from the bed to the nightstand where Tysus' purse had been deposited, Isabella's strap-on remains strictly at attention, the tip dripping with lubricant. Pulling forth the glass in question, she looks to Tysus. "Deal?" A long moment passes, but in the end she nods. "Wonderful," Isabella enthuses, returning to the bed to begin removing her ring gag. "Now tell me what I want to know..." [[Who can say no to your Mistress? Certainly not you.->Scandal2]]

With her gag removed Tysus is quiet, subdued from her experience. But she does talk. Giving over the passcode, she then directs Isabella through the quick process of lodging a request with the Sargon bureaucracy. There still remained the matter of actually rejecting the Daemon's offer, of course, but your Mistress had achieved a considerable step for your benefit. And Tysus promptly tries to ruin it. "Now you need to let me out of this gear so that I--" its all she manages before Isabella is back at her with the ring gag, followed shortly thereafter with the cock insert-- that Tysus growls against, her tongue being forced down by the phallic intruder as Isabella shoves it into place with a secure *click.* Her inserts are returned as well, the zipper between her legs slid back up despite the gagged complaints the Sargon gives, and that Isabella promptly ignores. Then your Mistress turns on you. Isabella Naram-Sin was not a woman to allow a slave much freedom, and even in the aftermath of her little game she sets quickly to restoring you to total impotence and submission. Your oral insert is first, the phallic gag being slid into your defenseless mouth with ease. Unlike Tysus, you do not resist it. (if: not ($Inv contains "oral cock insert"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "oral cock insert"))] (colour: red)[Oral Cock Insert added!] Your plugs follow, one by one being returned to the slots your body so naturally provided. (if: $IsGame is 1 or 2)[They're slightly less bothersome than you remember however, the orgasm you had been given by Tysus providing that.](else:)[They frustrate you greatly, given you were denied the chance for orgasm, but you have no choice.] Sliding in easily, your Mistress zips you closed afterward. (if: not ($Inv contains "slave suit plugs"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "slave suit plugs"))] (colour: red)[Slave Suit Plugs added!] With all three holes filled again you feel... perversely whole, as if such casual violation was your truly natural state. Isabella meanwhile stands at the foot of the bed, looking at you and Tysus. "Time for prizes and punishments, girls." [[You move to a kneeling position and spread your legs, Tysus merely groans.->Scandal3]]

(if: $IsGame is 1)[Picking up the riding crop she had displayed earlier, Isabella wraps it sharply against the palm of her other hand-- careful to catch the rod and not the tip itself that could undoubtedly cause a significant welt. Instead of going any further however she places it down nearby, and instead approaches Tysus. "My slave and I will discuss her prize, but first... lets get you rigged up for your punishment, Tysus." Its a testament to just how tired Tysus is that she reacts with only a quiet grunt, even as Isabella helps her from the bed. They don't go far, only to the foot of it, where she aligns the Sargon with her back to the heavy canopy pole, one of which is at each corner of the bed. There she produces a series of heavy laminate straps, using them to affix her to the pole standing straight up-- a binding at calf, waist, and across her arms ensuring she could not move away. To that she adds a blindfold, the black laminate blending seamlessly with her mask as it is hooked to the mag-points you both sported at the temples. The final component, and the true punishment, is the wand Isabella withdraws from the nearby wardrobe. Bulbous and a bit soft at one end, a simple flick of the switch sends it to vibrating greedily-- a revelation Tysus is greeted to when it is slid up between her legs. A final strap holds it in place there, her own thighs assisting, with the top pressed firmly up against her cunt, and thus the insert featured there. [[Tysus moans in abject horror, yet is absolutely helpless to resist...->TysusAlone]]](if: $IsGame is 2)[Picking up the riding crop she had displayed earlier, Isabella wraps it sharply against the palm of her other hand-- careful to catch the rod and not the tip itself that could undoubtedly cause a significant welt. Instead of going any further however she places it down nearby, and instead approaches you. "We have a few hours yet until night ends, and the Daemon thinks we missed it... so we will handle my slave's punishment first. I shall get her rigged, and then we will talk." Its a testament to just how tired Tysus is that she reacts with only a quiet grunt, even as Isabella helps you from the bed. She doesn't lead you far, only to the foot of it, where she aligns you with your back to the heavy canopy pole, one of which is at each corner of the bed. There she produces a series of heavy laminate straps, using them to affix you to the pole standing straight up-- a binding at calf, waist, and across your arms ensuring you could not move away. To that she adds a blindfold, the black laminate blending seamlessly with your mask as it is hooked to the mag-points you sported at your temples. (if: not ($Inv contains "laminate blindfold"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "laminate blindfold"))] (colour: red)[Laminate Blindfold added!] The final component, and the true punishment, is only revealed a few moments later. Bulbous and a bit soft at one end, something is pressed up firmly between your legs, an added strap and your own thighs holding it in place against your cunt-- and thus the plug entombed there. Before you can guess at its intent it buzzes to life, revealing itself to be a vibrating wand! (if: not ($Inv contains "vibe wand"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "vibe wand"))] (colour: red)[Vibe Wand added!] [["Mmmmmgh!!"->PlayerAlone]]](if: $IsGame is 3)[Picking up the riding crop she had displayed earlier, Isabella wraps it sharply against the palm of her other hand-- careful to catch the rod and not the tip itself that could undoubtedly cause a significant welt. Instead of going any further however she places it down nearby, and instead looks to you and Tysus both. "We have a few hours yet until night ends, and the Daemon thinks we missed it... so we will handle your shared punishment first. I shall get you both rigged." Its a testament to just how tired Tysus is that she reacts with only a quiet grunt, even as Isabella helps you both from the bed. She doesn't lead you far, only to the foot of it, where she aligns you with your back to the heavy canopy pole, one of which is at each corner of the bed. Tysus is directed to the one opposite. There she produces a series of heavy laminate straps, using them to affix you to the pole standing straight up-- a binding at calf, waist, and across your arms ensuring you could not move away. To that she adds a blindfold, the black laminate blending seamlessly with your mask as it is hooked to the mag-points you sported at your temples. (if: not ($Inv contains "laminate blindfold"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "laminate blindfold"))] (colour: red)[Laminate Blindfold added!] The final component, and the true punishment, is only revealed a few moments later. Bulbous and a bit soft at one end, something is pressed up firmly between your legs, an added strap and your own thighs holding it in place against your cunt-- and thus the plug entombed there. Before you can guess at its intent it buzzes to life, revealing itself to be a vibrating wand! (if: not ($Inv contains "vibe wand"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "vibe wand"))] (colour: red)[Vibe Wand added!] [["Mmmmmgh!!"->Together]]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/8saNQ5b.jpg" width="40%" height="40%"> She looks so helpless there, bound, gagged, and twisting in her restraints as the vibe wand purrs mercilessly. What had once been Tysus Sargon is little more than a laminate slave now, covered from toe to head in black, a collar firmly around her neck. She had been rendered impotent, an object of mere desire and sensuality. One you imagine will get no release from that vibrator, given how recently she had cummed. Only torturous frustration. And Isabella's riding crop, which is applied with a sharp crack along Tysus' tits. She screams in response, but the gag muffles it, and your Mistress ignores it utterly. Instead she turns to you. (if: $Strike2 is 3)["You've impressed me, I want you to know that. Taking the full load of my cock up your rear and *still* winning the game? How... wonderful. Truly. You are surpassing my expectations. You deserve to be in that collar. I knew it from the moment I laid my eyes upon you, in that hotel."](else:)["You did well, to win the game. I had high expectations for you, and you are meeting every one of them. Truly you deserve to be in that collar. I knew it from the moment I laid my eyes upon you, in that hotel."] Another casual strike of the crop is made upon Tysus, this time her flank, but afterward Isabella comes towards you. Taking a seat on the bed, she beckons for your kneeled approach and attendance. With one arm she wraps it around your shoulders, reaching up to pet you on the laminated head-- as if you were a pet. "I will see Tysus through her punishment, it will take a few hours. You will be allowed to rest, as much as you can in that uniform, but before you do there is the matter of your reward." [[Thrust out your hips, you want to cum!->TysusAloneThrust]] [[Await her judgement quietly.->TysusAloneQuiet]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/8saNQ5b.jpg" width="40%" height="40%"> Pressed up hard against your womanhood, and thus the thick insert installed within, the vibrator's incessant purr rumbles through your inner walls with frustrating regularity. It entices, drawing you towards greater pleasure, but never suggests a push towards climax-- you've came too recently for that. It is not the only portion of your punishment however, a fact revealed by the sudden crack just below your chin, the sound registering before pain that emerges from your right breast. Isabella's riding crop! A second strike follows moments later, this time on your flank, before a hand roughly seizes your chin. Blinded and gagged, you can do little but listen as Isabella shifts your head to whisper into your ear. "As a slave I expect you to be a slut, that is what you're best at. (if: $Strike2 is 3)[You demonstrated that clearly enough by begging for a full load in the ass, during the game." ]But I want you to remember this lesson, so that in the future you understand that you are *mine* to correct and tease and punish as I will. You are property now, my property, and I must admit I find it rather enjoyable to watch you squirm." She releases you, stepping back, if only to deliver yet another blow, this time squarely between your legs. "We will keep this up for a few hours, and you will thank me for every strike. I'm doing this because you deserve it, after all. So while I'm sure you're sucking on the cock in your throat, I will *hear* your thanks. After each strike. Is that clear?" (set: $Strike to 0) [[Mmmmgghhh, mmmgh mmgh!"->Transition]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/f5XFRpR.jpg" width="40%" height="40%"> Pressed up hard against your womanhood, and thus the thick insert installed within, the vibrator's incessant purr rumbles through your inner walls with frustrating regularity. It entices, drawing you towards greater pleasure, but never suggests a push towards climax-- you've came too recently for that. It is not the only portion of your punishment however, a fact revealed by the sudden crack just below your chin, the sound registering before pain that emerges from your right breast. Isabella's riding crop! A second strike follows moments later, this time on your flank, before a hand roughly seizes your chin. Blinded and gagged, you can do little but listen as Isabella shifts your head to whisper into your ear. "As slaves I expect you to be a slut, that is what you're best at. (if: $Strike2 is 3)[My own toy demonstrated that clearly enough by begging for a full load in the ass, during the game." ]But I want you to remember this lesson, so that in the future you understand that you are *mine* to correct and tease and punish as I will, or in your case Sargon, that you have endured this. You are property now, at least for the next few hours, and I must admit I find it rather enjoyable to watch you squirm." She releases you, stepping back, if only to deliver yet another blow, this time squarely between your legs. "We will keep this up for a few hours, and you will thank me for every strike, girls. I'm doing this because you deserve it, after all. So while I'm sure you're sucking on the cock in your throat, I will *hear* your thanks. After each strike. Is that clear?" (set: $Strike to 0) [[Mmmmgghhh, mmmgh mmgh!"->Transition]]

"No," Isabella replies immediately, without reproach. She expected you to beg for such, after all. "I like you frustrated. No. My reward to you is a decision, one you must not take lightly. Regarding Tysus." You both look to the wriggling form, the black laminate of her suit reflecting each subtle shift in waves of light upon her ass-- at least from your current vantage. "Had she succeeded in her little plot, Tysus would have undoubtedly given you to the Daemon you are to meet. It would have suited her research. You would have been doomed to a life as a thrall of the AI, who are *not* the sort of owner I am. They are cruel, and unknowable." Without even commenting on it, Isabella presses a hand to your back, a subtle indicator that she wanted you to straighten and thrust your chest out. You do, and she continues. "The easiest course for me is to leave Tysus like this, as she is, for a few days. She mentioned that's how long her lease on the room runs. The Club staff will attend to her as any slave, and she will be free to go-- properly chastened of course-- afterward. The riskier alternative is to give her to the Daemon, as she would have done to you-- and to me, if given the opportunity. A cruel fate, but one she deserves perhaps? I would have *you* decide. That is your reward. Keep your legs apart to leave her as such, bring them together to give her to the Daemon." [[Keep your legs apart.->KeepasSlave]] [[Bring your legs together.->MakeSlave]] [[Lift your chin, and indicate your collar. She could be enslaved...?->AskSlaveTy]]

"My reward to you is a decision, one you must not take lightly. Regarding Tysus." You both look to the wriggling form, the black laminate of her suit reflecting each subtle shift in waves of light upon her ass-- at least from your current vantage. "Had she succeeded in her little plot, Tysus would have undoubtedly given you to the Daemon you are to meet. It would have suited her research. You would have been doomed to a life as a thrall of the AI, who are *not* the sort of owner I am. They are cruel, and unknowable." Without even commenting on it, Isabella presses a hand to your back, a subtle indicator that she wanted you to straighten and thrust your chest out. You do, and she continues. "The easiest course for me is to leave Tysus like this, as she is, for a few days. She mentioned that's how long her lease on the room runs. The Club staff will attend to her as any slave, and she will be free to go-- properly chastened of course-- afterward. The riskier alternative is to give her to the Daemon, as she would have done to you-- and to me, if given the opportunity. A cruel fate, but one she deserves perhaps? I would have *you* decide. That is your reward. Keep your legs apart to leave her as such, bring them together to give her to the Daemon." [[Keep your legs apart.->KeepasSlave]] [[Bring your legs together.->MakeSlave]] [[Lift your chin, and indicate your collar. She could be enslaved...?->AskSlaveTy]]

You decision is met with the same decisiveness Isabella retained for her own considerations. "It will be as you like. Once we have concluded our work here tonight, we will leave her right where she is. I promised not to speak of the night's events, and I will hold to that... but I will admit, I suspect her disappearance for a few days will cause rumors anyway. And if one of her family comes looking for her?" Isabella grins, even as she turns, meeting your eyes. Its the only portion of your body not covered in laminate, and while her gaze is stern that soothing look had returned. Placing her hands on your shoulders, she guides you back, helping your head find the pillows on the bed. "Rest now," she asserts, picking up the riding crop once again. "I will wake you when it is time." (set: $TysusStat to 1) [[You fall asleep to the quiet purr of Tysus' wand, and the occasional crack of Isabella's crop.->Waking]]

You decision is met with the same decisiveness Isabella retained for her own considerations. "It will be as you like, and as the Sargon deserves. My tender mercies will seem like child's play once she's in the clutches of the AI... but I did promise her a punishment, did I not?" Isabella grins, even as she turns, meeting your eyes. Its the only portion of your body not covered in laminate, and while her gaze is stern that soothing look had returned. Placing her hands on your shoulders, she guides you back, helping your head find the pillows on the bed. "Rest now," she asserts, picking up the riding crop once again. "I will wake you when it is time." (set: $TysusStat to 2) [[You fall asleep to the quiet purr of Tysus' wand, and the occasional crack of Isabella's crop.->Waking]]

"She would make a poor slave, compared to you" Isabella says, catching your intent immediately. "And besides, I do not have the legal right to it. There was no contract included with that outfit, and her house is too powerful to risk a conflict with. Your choices are as I presented them. Either let her go free... eventually, or give her to the Daemon. Her disappearance will not matter then, none ask for what the AI have taken." [[Indicate she should be let go, eventually.->KeepasSlave]] [[Indicate she should be given to the Daemon.->MakeSlave]]

Your sleep is deep and blissful, even dreams suppressed by your exhaustion. You may not know it yet, but it is the first of many such periods of sleep you will take eagerly. Isabella was a demanding Mistress, after all. Yet you wake in her arms, your own still so thoroughly bound by the straitjacket. She is smoking her ruby-red electronic cigarette, but her other hand runs over your shoulder, gently kneading the plug between your legs. That had been what had pulled you from that slumber, your own base needs overcoming even the rest of one so exhausted. "Ah, there you are..." she purrs. "Say nothing. I bet you are eager for your gags once more, hm?" [["Actually... I was hoping we could talk.->WakeGagsNo]] [[Nod silently.->WakeGagYes]]

Blinded, and with the infernal vibe between your legs, you have no sense of the passing of time. There is only darkness, the frustration between your legs, and the occasional pain of your Mistress' lesson. She is not gentle, (if: $IsGame is 3)[your only break is when she turns her attention to Tysus,] and she does not relent. {(if: $Strike is 0)[The next crack is between your legs again, just above your pubic area. The flesh there is extra sensitive, but you can only bite down on your gag as you fight to remember the rules.] (if: $Strike is 1)[The blow is upon your breasts again, tweaking your nipple in a way that catches the breath in your throat.] (if: $Strike is 2)[A strike across your thighs, particularly well placed given the way it jostles the wand as well.] (if: $Strike is 3)[You flinch when the next touch is beneath your chin, yet gentle. A reminder that Isabella could be as such, even if the rules remain the same.] (if: $Strike is 4)[The blow lands between your legs, sliding up between the wand and your laminate for a moment. The increased pressure is wonderous, but terribly short lived.] (if: $Strike is 5)[Another strike, this time on your flank. You can feel your ass jiggling, as soon as you can pull the sensation out from the sharp welt of paint that eclipsed it.] (if: $Strike is 6)[It continues, again and again...]} (if: $Strike is < 6)[(link: "Thank her!")[(set: $Strike to it + 1)(goto: "Transition")]](else:)[[[The removal of your blindfold takes you by surprise.->TransEnd]]]

(if: $Inv contains "laminate blindfold")[(set: $Inv to $Inv - (a: "laminate blindfold"))](colour: green)[Laminate Blindfold removed!] Isabella looms before you, her hand seizing your chin, forcing you to meet her gaze directly. For the first time you realize how truly difficult it was, meeting her eyes. She had such control over you, and if you had not already been prepared you certainly are now to what the reality of disappointing her would mean. "I think I lost you there for a moment," she notes, with a quirk of her lips. "You started moaning in pleasure as much as pain after the thirty sixth strike." (set: $TysusStat to 1) You do not remember her doing anymore near the many, and when panic starts to well-- was this another artifact of your encounter with mem-burn?-- she intercedes immediately. "Calm." That singular word is delivered with imperious resolve, daring you to do anything but comply as she explains. "Some girls fall into submission further than most. Get lost in the experience. You seem to be among that sort. Perhaps we should not be surprised? It takes someone special to fall into a collar so fast. Speaking of which..." She reaches down, seizing the vibe wand still secured between your legs, and pushes it harder against your sealed cunt. Its energetic hum seems to introduce itself all over, but with Isabella looming before you there is little opportunity to enjoy it. The hand on your chin pulls forth your oral cock, then deftly unhooks your ring gag, allowing it to hang lewdly from your cheek. (if: $Inv contains "oral cock insert")[(set: $Inv to $Inv - (a: "oral cock insert"))](if: $Inv contains "Isabella's ring gag")[(set: $Inv to $Inv - (a: "Isabella's ring gag"))] (colour: green)[Oral cock insert and ring gag removed!] "You have one chance to apologize for failing my game," your Mistress declares, as drool drips from the ring gag to the side of your mouth. "Be succinct." [["I'm deeply sorry Mistress, it won't happen again..."->TE21]] [["I'm sorry Mistress, I'm still so new to this... I will do better next time!"->TE22]] [["I'm sorry Mistress, I know I should not have cummed, I'm too much of a slut..."->TE23]]

=><= <img src="https://i.imgur.com/1hORbLV.png" width="50%" height="50%"> Laminate Blindfold: *designed to snap easily to the mag-locks build into the sides of your mask, this form-fitted piece of laminate is rather thick to prevent any light from passing through.*

Extra variables loaded. Metallic Blue Catsuit loaded. (set: $Status to 1)(set: $Gear to 1)(set: $Daemon to false)(set: $Level to 3) (colour: red)[WARNING: Using this to skip ahead will break things if you do not accept Sister Euphoria's offer!] Continue: (link:"Click Me!")[(go-to:"NunRevFinal3")]

=><= <img src="https://i.imgur.com/Ae8SpOD.png" width="50%" height="50%"> Sister's Raiments: *a physical manifestation of your Vow of Obedience, this set of cuffs at your wrists and ankles are referred to as a Sister's Raiments, often in conjunction with her collar. Built of simple heavy laminate, they feature an included d-ring and inlaid mag-locks for anything from simple restraint to far more complex bondage. You do not have the key to remove them.*

"Allow me to formally introduce my Sister, then," Euphoria continues, a hand upon your back pushing you forward a step. Moving closer to the Master only emphasizes his masculinity, the muscles of his chest and arms evident beneath the laminate that covers him. Your vow of femininity had been an admission of your own weakness, and that of your gender in general, but Petros is an exemplar of the opposite: the male form, almost certainly refined by Torean biomedical technology towards a perfection so far removed from your smooth curves and full hips. Euphoria would have probably prompted consideration of that duality, had she not been introducing you. "I, Sister Euphoria, present to you Sister Azalea of the Order of the Primrose, five-vowed Novice and treasured slave of the Benefactor. Provided for your pleasure, and at your service." The words are formalized, a ritual greeting that Petros takes in stride. Stepping forward himself, he reaches out without hesitation, seizing your chin. Black laminate meets white as he shifts your head to one side, then the other, his examination progressing downward in quick fashion. "Shoulders back," he commands, already turning you so he stands at your side. "Press out your chest." [[Comply immediately.->Nun6A]] [[Glance at Euphoria for guidance.->Nun6B]]

You do just as commanded. Your uniform already enforced a strict posture, but forcing your own shoulders back heightens the effect. Your back curves, pressing your laminate encapsulated breasts out further, and making your hardened nipples all the more obvious through such tight material. Further down your rear is emphasized as well, a fact Petros notes immediately, his free hand coasting down a smooth cheek. Afterward he seizes a breast, watching your eyes for a reaction before stepping away as suddenly as he had begun. "Offworlder," is his conclusion, with a slight hint of disdain in his voice. Had that been your own tie to Torei you get the feeling he would be far more hostile, but everything that follows sees him retreat back towards stern neutrality. "Unimproved, but well proportioned regardless. A few weeks of exercise and a diet change of slave feed will do wonders regardless, although I am sure that is your intent Sister Euphoria. Very good." He slaps your rear once, as if you were a young filly who had passed inspection. Euphoria meanwhile speaks up. "I was quite pleased to collar her as well, Master. And please, allow me to thank you for providing escort at such short notice." "Serendipity," he grunts, reaching to his wait-- upon which you notice several black devices hanging, which you had not noticed before. Caught in the gleam of light upon his laminate, you catch sight of a veritable belt-load of restraints. "I had intended to spend the evening at Club Lush already. Do you intend to provide oblations?" [[That two nuns could have legitimate reason to travel to a night club underlines Torean culture in a whole new way.->Nun7]]

Your glance at Euphoria becomes something more like a sidelong attempt, as Petros' grip upon your chin remains firm. Nevertheless you manage, although your Sister only raises her brows in response-- a subtle indication to do exactly as the Master commanded. So you do. Your uniform already enforced a strict posture, but forcing your own shoulders back heightens the effect. Your back curves, pressing your laminate encapsulated breasts out further, and making your hardened nipples all the more obvious through such tight material. Further down your rear is emphasized as well, a fact Petros notes immediately, his free hand coasting down a smooth cheek. Afterward he seizes a breast, watching your eyes for a reaction before stepping away as suddenly as he had begun. "Offworlder," is his conclusion, with a slight hint of disdain in his voice. Had that been your own tie to Torei you get the feeling he would be far more hostile, but everything that follows sees him retreat back towards stern neutrality. "Unimproved, but well proportioned regardless. A few weeks of exercise and a diet change of slave feed will do wonders regardless, although I am sure that is your intent Sister Euphoria. Very good." He slaps your rear once, as if you were a young filly who had passed inspection. Euphoria meanwhile speaks up. "I was quite pleased to collar her as well, Master. And please, allow me to thank you for providing escort at such short notice." "Serendipity," he grunts, reaching to his wait-- upon which you notice several black devices hanging, which you had not noticed before. Caught in the gleam of light upon his laminate, you catch sight of a veritable belt-load of restraints. "I had intended to spend the evening at Club Lush already. Do you intend to provide oblations?" [[That two nuns could have legitimate reason to travel to a night club underlines Torean culture in a whole new way.->Nun7]]

"If the need arises," Euphoria replies readily. Petros meanwhile reaches up, snapping a leash much like your own to her collar. The elder sister had lifted her chin to make it easier, and continues now without comment-- beyond passing him your leash as well. "Our primary purpose is to settle Sister Azalea's accounts, though, as they are. She came to the bosom of our Order in a manner of distress." Petros nods, his gasmask revealing no hint of what he thought about such things. You have only his words, and they remain focused solely upon the service he was providing. "You will provide satisfaction at the Club itself," he commands, "for my assistance. Initiate your bindings." Euphoria reaches over, taking one wrist each of your's in her hands. Pressing her thumb to the portion of your raiment locked upon your wrists, she then guides them behind your back-- where they snap readily together, drawn together as if welded by the heavy magnets your Sister had engaged. Thus secured, she then thumbs her own cuffs before taking the same position, her wrists linking together behind her back. Petros pulls further devices from his belt, but then looks to you. "Legs together. Cock or ball?" [["...cock?"->Nun8C]] [["...ball?"->Nun8B]]

The word had barely passed your mouth before he's filling it, having reached up to pull down the laminate muzzle that covered everything from beneath your chin to your nose. He's greeted with your stenciled lips, the words **Sinner** and **Slave**-- firm reminders of your status, both within the Order and upon Torei generally. It gives him no pause however, as his gloved hands press a black laminate *thing* between them. A cock-shaped gag, your curious tongue confirms as its rigid length slides in further and further, forcing you to suckle on it. (if: not ($Inv contains "Petros' cock"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "Petros' cock"))] (colour: red)[Petros' Cock Gag added!] Your mask already featured buckle points at cheek and temple for gags and blindfolds respectively, and he makes use of them now, affixing your new gag with ease. Afterward he pulls back up your muzzle, all but hiding your gag without reducing its effectiveness. Euphoria, for her part, only watches with a radiant gaze red-hot with glee. "As women, our speech should be treated as a privilege, Sister. The burden of such liberties Master Petros is kind to remove from us." Only moments later, she is being subjected to the same treatment. The way the taller woman leans forward, eagerly sucking the cock down between her lips, you have to imagine she believed every word she had said. [[Moan happily in agreement.->Nun9Moan]] [[Bear your bondage silently.->Nun9Silent]]

The word had barely passed your mouth before he's filling it, having reached up to pull down the laminate muzzle that covered everything from beneath your chin to your nose. He's greeted with your stenciled lips, the words **Sinner** and **Slave**-- firm reminders of your status, both within the Order and upon Torei generally. It gives him no pause however, as his gloved hands press a black laminate *thing* between them. A ball gag, your curious tongue confirms as its firmly seated behind your teeth. (if: not ($Inv contains "Petros' ball"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "Petros' ball"))] (colour: red)[Petros' Ball Gag added!] Your mask already featured buckle points at cheek and temple for gags and blindfolds respectively, and he makes use of them now, affixing your new gag with ease. Afterward he pulls back up your muzzle, all but hiding your gag without reducing its effectiveness. Euphoria, for her part, only watches with a radiant gaze red-hot with glee. "As women, our speech should be treated as a privilege, Sister. The burden of such liberties Master Petros is kind to remove from us." Only moments later, she is being subjected to the same treatment. The way the taller woman leans forward, eagerly seizing the ball between her teeth, you have to imagine she believed every word she had said. [[Moan happily in agreement.->Nun9Moan]] [[Bear your bondage silently.->Nun9Silent]]

=><= <img src=https://i.imgur.com/Vmt1Ltm.png" width="50%" height="50%"> Petros' Cock: *a heavy rigid facsimile cock, veined for your pleasure and to provide practice. It is mounted to a simple laminate base that could easily be pushed from your mouth, were you not muzzled as well. Given its size, you find it rather uncomfortable.*

=><= <img src="https://i.imgur.com/yh2Q6BK.png"> Petros' Hobble: *easily locked upon your ankle raiment, this hobble consists of only the chain itself. At perhaps six inches, the chain restricts your gait significantly, requiring you to take prim little steps to the metallic clink of the hobble.*

=><= <img src="https://i.imgur.com/L52B6uP.png" width="50%" height="50%"> Petros' Ball: *a laminate ball gag, of the trainer style to ensure you cannot remove it easily. Seated behind your teeth it forces your lips apart, and reduces any sound you attempt to a moaned mmmmmgh! Your muzzle also mostly hides it from view, excepting of course the bump visible in profile.*

You manage to shift your chin just a bit before your suit intervenes, one of your baseline directives having been violated: communication was not allowed to you. The corrective shock is expected, but it nevertheless hurts, your legs quivering slightly as the soubrette notes your distress with a raised brow. "You must be new? Usually your kind... ah, there it is." You're already moving, kneeling before your fellow slave, demonstrating your lower position in the complex hierarchy of the collared. Governesses and personal servants to nobility ranked amongst the highest, followed by those like (if: $CorSlave is true)[Corinth](else:)[the soubrette before you] who had been trained for specialty positions of prestige. Lowly working slaves, like yourself, occupied the vast bottom role. On your knees you spread your legs, a demonstration of submission as much as it is a greeting. Reaching to your pack, you deftly unhook the leash hanging from one side, and snap the metallic end to the ring provided at the front of your collar for just such use. The thick laminate loop is than offered upward, to the soubrette-- a silent proposition and request, to be taken to her own. She takes it immediately, a bright smile appearing on her ruby red lips. "Of course. My Mistress has been waiting eagerly for your documents... you will follow." [[A sharp tug on your leash ensures you have little choice.->Cour8]]

You're already moving, kneeling before your fellow slave, demonstrating your lower position in the complex hierarchy of the collared. Governesses and personal servants to nobility ranked amongst the highest, followed by those like (if: $CorSlave is true)[Corinth](else:)[the soubrette before you] who had been trained for specialty positions of prestige. Lowly working slaves, like yourself, occupied the vast bottom role. On your knees you spread your legs, a demonstration of submission as much as it is a greeting. Reaching to your pack, you deftly unhook the leash hanging from one side, and snap the metallic end to the ring provided at the front of your collar for just such use. The thick laminate loop is than offered upward, to the soubrette-- a silent proposition and request, to be taken to her own. She takes it immediately, a bright smile appearing on her ruby red lips. "Of course. My Mistress has been waiting eagerly for your documents... you will follow." [[A sharp tug on your leash ensures you have little choice.->Cour8]]

Following your leash, you enter into the Royallis estate. Its small, although you quickly determine that was due to location more than the Mistress' wealth-- land near Grand Aekora was becoming quite expensive indeed, but the decor you pass through is sumptuous to the extreme. Gleaming fixtures, a wooden (perhaps even real instead of imitation?) grand staircase, at least two glittering chandeliers... but of course the truth wealth is not in any inanimate object but the *slaves*. You pass a few, another soubrette tidying up a library, a serving girl of some sort glimpsed in the kitchen. Only one halts your passage completely however, by crawling into the doorway ahead. (set: $Strike to 0) <img src="https://i.imgur.com/ernFwOQ.png" width="35%" height="35%"> Only her eyes are visible from a uniform that otherwise covers her completely in laminate, heavy bondage keeping her on hands and knees. Likewise a thick gag prevents speech, and bondage mitts render her hands into little more than useless paws-- a theme that fits her mask, as laminate ears stick up in facsimile of a pet. A catgirl. "Cici," (if: $CorSlave is true)[Corinth](else:)[your guide] chides, kneeling before the catgirl. "You cannot have *all* my attention. If you don't move Mistress will..." (if: $CorSlave is true)[ Corinth halts, looking back at you for a moment, then smiles again. Reaching out she pets the catgirl, who purrs happily, and in the same move draws you in closer with a sudden pull on your leash. "We only have a few moments. I can blame this pause on Cici, she's new. You're... do you know me?" She glances back your way, eyes narrowing as she searches your mask-- as if capable of looking through it. "Is it... *you* in there?" [[Nod, yes!->CorBreakF]] [[Thrust out your hips.->CorBreakT]] [[Remain still, you don't want to be punished.->IgnoreCor]] ](else:)[ The soubrette sighs, and then reaches to her belt. Apparently she had little time to explain to the catgirl, if such a creature would even make the effort to understand, and instead merely deploys a small controller against her. The girl leaps in surprise, shaking her head in a way you can easily relate to-- her collar must have shock functionality. It certainly incentivizes her to back away, although not without a huffed exhalation delivered towards your guide. The soubrette shrugs, stands, and continues on. "She's a new slave." [[And you follow towards the door across the room.->Cour9]]]

Your suit intervenes, too well programmed to miss *that* attempt at communication. That you were not allowed such a simple freedom is reinforced by a warning on your HUD, followed by the expected shock along your implants. No matter how much you steel yourself, the pain still leaves you quaking for a few moments. Corinth however notes your distress. "Was that... if its you, try... something else?" [[Thrust out your hips.->CorBreakT]] [[Remain still, you don't want to be punished further.->IgnoreCor]]

Communicating like a *person* was not allowed to you, your suit would intervene. But it only served the company for its slaves to lack dignity, to wear their desires on their proverbial laminate sleeves-- and thus it allows you to freely press your hips forward as you spread your legs, presenting yourself to your friend. Corinth picks up on it immediately, the heavy eyeshadow she wore emphasizing the way her eyes widen. "I *knew* it," she enthuses, albeit at a conspiratorial whisper. "I heard you went into the lower tier programs of course, so I always thought... but then it was like the way you walked or something, I don't know I..." She tips her head, still petting the catgirl to cover her ruse. "...I'm not sure what I can say. We've... come a long way, haven't we?" Between her maid livery, and your fully encapsulated suit, you certainly are not the pair of naive offworlders you may once have been. The tight collars around each your throats ensured that. "I really wish... you would have applied yourself more, at the Academy," Corinth finally seems to conclude. "Maybe you could have been here, with me... or even been made into what Cici is." She looks to the strictly bound catgirl, and you recognize in her expression a truthfulness to her words-- Corinth really did believe you would be better off like *that*, without a shred of dignity, crawling around like a pet. "You can't talk, I know..." she continues, "and I'm not sure there is much to say... but I can at least help you, a bit. You'll see, once you make your delivery. Which you need to do, Mistress will be waiting for my report at who was at the door. Come on." (set: $Strike to 1) [[She rises as Cici moves out of the way, sated. Together you make for the door opposite.->Cour9]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/ZXbItrF.jpg" width="35%" height="35%"> Together you enter into the sanctum of the estate, the office of its owner Mistress Royallis. She's seated behind a large desk, again at least appearing to be of the rare wooden variety. Her attire is laminate, as was to be expected of minor Torean nobility, the layered material and gloves matching the expected conduct of one so stationed-- you've come to learn as a courier that handling business documents with bare hands was considered in quite poor taste by traditionalists. The effort to adhere to cultural expectations is continued by your guide, the soubrette bowing sharply at the waist, lifting her skirts to reveal her panties beneath in a clean reverence. [[Perform a reverence as well.->Cour10]] [[Remain standing.->Cour10F]]

Corinth looks to you, so close... yet so far. Was it really *you* under all the laminate, anymore? You don't think so. The woman Corinth had known had been forced to her knees more times than you can count, made to beg and serve and please. Her dignity had been stripped away, followed by her identity once you were locked inside your suit. You are just a numbered slave now, one of dozens serving your firm, thousands living in Grand Aekora, of the millions across Torei. You remain still, and the soubrette eventually frowns. "I thought... never mind, I suppose. At least you cannot tell my Mistress that I asked, like that." She stands abruptly, and then reaches to her belt. Apparently she had little time to explain to the catgirl, if such a creature would even make the effort to understand, and instead merely deploys a small controller against her. The girl leaps in surprise, shaking her head in a way you can easily relate to-- her collar must have shock functionality. It certainly incentivizes her to back away, although not without a huffed exhalation delivered towards your guide. Corinth shrugs, then tugs your leash. "Come on, the Mistress awaits. [[And you follow towards the door across the room.->Cour9]]

You follow expected decorum and bow just as sharply as (if: $CorSlave is true)[Corinth](else:)[the soubrette]. Lacking a skirt you instead flair out your arms, then hold. Together you stay there, waiting for release that comes *eventually.* Mistress Royallis clearly made full use of her prerogative to let you wait. Even so, from your bent over posture you can see her put down her pen to look upon you directly-- some didn't even bother with that. "A full protocol courier," she notes. "You must have the Master's documents I've been waiting for. Excellent. You may proceed." [[She meant of course your ritualized presentation and submission.->Cour11]]

You remain standing, a decision you note is met with a sharp look from the otherwise smiling Royallis. Some of her sort didn't even bother to look your way, but she does, even if with a hint of distaste. Clearly you *should* have performed a reverence. (set: $Strike to 2) It was too late now though, not without making it awkward, and the Mistress pushes on. "A full protocol courier," she notes. "You must have the Master's documents I've been waiting for. Excellent. You may proceed." [[She meant of course your ritualized presentation and submission.->Cour11]]

This singular act had been taught to you until you could do it in your sleep, and given the sleep deprivation the Academy had wielded as an added test during your final weeks you almost had. Striding forward, placing each step before the other to maximize the sway of your hips, you approach the desk. Once standing before it you lean forward until your breasts rest against the surface, a full bow that you further by sharply snapping your legs apart. The posture prevented you from doing much of anything else, but of course that was the point. You could not have opened your backpack had you wanted to, the different openings were locked with digital keys your recipients were sent beforehand-- ensuring only they could take final delivery. To do just that Royallis stands, circling her desk to approach you from behind. (if: $Strike is 1 or 2)[You're surprised to feel her hand slide between your legs momentarily, teasing more than anything else, but inducing a gagged moan from you nevertheless-- undoubtedly a wordless approval of your presentation.] Bent over the desk, legs splayed, a beautiful woman in laminate behind you, you try to focus on literally anything else. The hours of teasing and occasional aphrodisiacs of course prevent that, leaving you wet, horny, and decidedly unfulfilled-- but that was part of the service you provided too. What fun would there be in unaroused slaves? You feel the clasp of your pack close before Royallis steps away, returning to view before you with several sheets of thin-lam held in her hands. Taking a seat, you lose her interest, an errant wave of the hand dismissing you. But not before a final command is given to (if: $CorSlave is true)[Corinth.](else:)[the attending soubrette.] (if: $Strike is 2)["Mark my disapproval of the delivery, will you? She should have reverenced." [[As you stand, you cannot help but cringe.->CourPun]]](else:)[(if: $CorSlave is true)["You walked her here, Corinth, and observed. I will leave her tip to you."](else:)["A proper courier, for once. Tip her on the way out."] (if: $Strike is 1)[[[Corinth nods.->CourCorPun]]]](if: $Strike is 0)[[[You fight to keep from touching yourself at mention of a tip.->CourRew]]]

With a hand once more upon your leash, you're ushered back out into the sitting room just outside the office. The catgirl is there, chasing some manner of small robotic toy, but its the far nearer slave who turns to regard you. (if: $CorSlave is true)[Corinth](else:)[The Soubrette] sighs, producing a small glass device from her belt. You recognize her syncing with your courier service's external site, registering your delivery-- as well as deciding on if you deserved a tip or not. Quite obviously, she had been instructed to deny you that. (if: $CorSlave is true)["I hate to do this," Corinth notes, holding a finger over the confirmation button. "I know what they do to your kind when given poor feedback... but I think its important you undergo it, you know? That's how we learn, and how our owners make sure we do better next time, right? We deserve to be punished when we're naughty."](else:)["You best learn from this," your fellow slave notes. "I know how hard they are on you courier drones when we give negative feedback. But you need to do better, and next time I'm *certain* you will perform a reverence, right?] She doesn't wait for an answer, knowing you could not give it-- and instead presses the blinking button on her glass. It takes a moment for the data to transmit to your owner's, then for the proper orders to reach your suit. Torean informational technology remained incredibly dated by galactic standards. But a response does come in the form of words across your mask-- both internally, and projected externally for the soubrette to read. (colour: red)[ASSUME CORRECTIVE POSTURE.] (if: $CorSlave is true)[Corinth](else:)[The soubrette] turns to walk away. "I need to get back to my duties, I'll collect you when its over." [[You meanwhile scramble to comply.->CourPunEnd]]

With a hand once more upon your leash, you're ushered back out into the sitting room just outside the office. The catgirl is there, chasing some manner of small robotic toy, but its the far nearer slave who turns to regard you. Corinth produces a small glass device, syncing with your owner's external site to note the delivery-- and decide on if you deserved a tip. And Corinth had said she would help, hadn't she? What better way than a reward! "I hope you don't hate me for this," she says, breaking your glee. You look to her, and note her finger hovering over the *tip denied* button. "I know what they do to full protocol couriers who don't get a tip. But you *really* should have pushed yourself harder, at the Academy. Maybe if *I* push you harder now, you can still learn that lesson? You could be so much more than a courier drone, believe me... and I want to see you flourish in your collar. Like I have. So you need this lesson, I think. I hope that's okay?" She doesn't wait for an answer, knowing you could not give it-- and instead presses the blinking button on her glass. It takes a moment for the data to transmit to your owner's, then for the proper orders to reach your suit. Torean informational technology remained incredibly dated by galactic standards. But a response does come in the form of words across your mask-- both internally, and projected externally for the soubrette to read. (colour: red)[ASSUME CORRECTIVE POSTURE.] Corinth turns to walk away. "I need to get back to my duties, I'll collect you when its over." [[You meanwhile scramble to comply!->CourPunEnd]]

With a hand once more upon your leash, you're ushered back out into the sitting room just outside the office. The catgirl is there, chasing some manner of small robotic toy, but its the far nearer slave who turns to regard you. (if: $CorSlave is true)[Corinth](else:)[The Soubrette] sighs, producing a small glass device from her belt. You recognize her syncing with your courier service's external site, registering your delivery-- as well as deciding on if you deserved a tip or not. Thankfully, Mistress Royallis had been quite clear that she was to give you it. (if: $CorSlave is true)["I still think... I suppose it doesn't matter who's in there," Corinth notes, holding a finger over the confirmation button. "Either you've been broken as a slave, and you don't need my help... or you're someone else, and I just sound crazy for my hunches. I should just shutup, I bet you want your reward anyway, huh?"](else:)["Lucky girl," your fellow slave notes. "Were it up to me, I'd have denied you this. Its always fun to watch your sort squirm when denied a tip. But Mistress says, so... I hope you're thankful for this.] She doesn't wait for an answer, knowing you could not give it-- and instead presses the blinking button on her glass. It takes a moment for the data to transmit to your owner's, then for the proper orders to reach your suit. Torean informational technology remained incredibly dated by galactic standards. But a response does come in the form of words across your mask-- both internally, and projected externally for the soubrette to read. (colour: red)[ASSUME REWARD POSTURE.] (if: $CorSlave is true)[Corinth](else:)[The soubrette] turns to walk away. "I need to get back to my duties, I'll collect you when its over." [[You meanwhile scramble to comply.->CourRewardEnd]]

You know from harsh experience that the only thing worse than a corrective session was delaying the inevitable-- your suit would note the hesitation, and extend your time by twice the added period. So you kneel quickly, spreading your legs and straightening your back-- thrusting your chest out without worrying about the way it so prominently portrayed your breasts. Anything less and you would be punished further. Your hands meanwhile you move behind your back, crossing them at your wrists. Flattening your palms, you hold them each outward facing, another facet the suit watched carefully. Immediately your suit moves into action. Stimulators awake between your legs and around your nipples, the latter already perpetually hard but addressed nevertheless. Quickly they push you towards climax, only to immediately induce heavy shocks when you even *thought* you were approaching that pleasurable peak. The pain is as intensive as the pleasure, and quickly sets a torturous rhythm you have no hope of escaping. You're edged, without mercy or release, only to be denied-- again, and again, and again... All the while your suit monitors your posture, watching for the slightest deviation. Were you to close your legs just a bit, or lower your gaze, or ball your hands into fists-- it would know, and thus would come shocks until you returned to compliance. The result is a full body workout as you stiffly try to remain utterly still, even as your holes and points of sensuality are worked so roughly. A small progress bar on your HUD notes how far you were through the lesson, but outward your suit projects a different message. (colour: red)[THIS SLAVE IS BEING PUNISHED, WE APOLOGIZE FOR ITS SERVICE.] [[6% done, and you still have another half dozen deliveries to make...->Ending]]

You need no further prompting to take the reward posture-- were you not sealed into your suit the mere prospect of being rewarded would have resulted in your own feminine lubricant running down your thighs. As it is you merely hurry, laying down upon a stranger's floor on your stomach. Once there you bring your arms behind your back, moving your wrists together until you hear a distinctive *click*-- the sound of your wrist restraints linking magnetically. The same is repeated for your ankles, then the two sets are paired by bending back your legs in a dexterous display that ends with you effectively hogtied. Your suit notes your readiness immediately, and responds with fierce enthusiasm. Stimulators awake between your legs and around your nipples, the latter already perpetually hard but addressed nevertheless. Thick shafts drive into your cunt and rear as a smaller vibrator installed up against your clit teases mercilessly, even as pleasurable waves of ecstasy emanate from your piercings-- the electrical shock function turned towards gentle sensation. The experience is *intense*, but also brief-- you know you will only be given a few minutes, but your climax restrictions have been temporarily revoked. Its up to you how much you make of the opportunity, a fact your mask HUD makes painfully clear by the way it starts ticking down. Outwardly however a different notice is marked in bright red LED across your mask. (colour: red)[THIS SLAVE IS BEING REWARDED. WE APOLOGIZE FOR THE MOMENTARY INCONVENIENCE.] [[Fresh aphrodisiacs are pumped in as you cum for the first time...->Ending]]

Do you want Corinth to have been enslaved too? [[Yes->CourCheatYes]] [[No->CourCheatNo]]

Okay! (set: $CorSlave to true) Go to Courier Ending: (link:"Click Me!")[(go-to:"CourierEnd")]

Okay! (set: $CorSlave to false) Go to Courier Ending: (link:"Click Me!")[(go-to:"CourierEnd")]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/5vPIPvj.png" width="30%" height="30%"> The man who could only be your new owner is only a few years older than yourself. That surprised many that met with him, but Master Tenyon had built his empire upon embracing the unexpected. A self-made man born on a backwater in the Vawking Cluster, he had come to Torei upon reaching adulthood. You've never heard *why* exactly, but his embrace of Torei's culture-- and the unique opportunity it provided for a man with ambition-- had been immediate. Tenyon Imports had been built upon the untapped market deeper within Torei for offworlder goods, which still struggle to disperse far beyond the Way Up itself. The more antipodal Ringdoms being deeply conservative remained part of the problem, but so too had been a lack of interest from the offworlders themselves. Torei remained such a fresh frontier, at least when it came to trading, and there was wealth enough for most where it was easy to travel. But Master Tenyon had taken risks early, building contacts far from the usual centers of trade. Today his goods flowed steadily into the heart of the planet, even if it remained somewhat of a trickle compared to the glut that rained down upon the Mountainous Ringdoms. Still, that success had brought him immense wealth, enough to own hundreds of slaves-- including yourself. [[Loosening his laminate tie, he approaches your box.->Doll12]]

Lost in Laminate remains in active development, and you have reached one of the handful of paths that remain incomplete. You will now be fast-forwarded to the ending. [[Ending]]

"See that it does not," Isabella responds sharply. "But it will, I know that. A slave who does not need correction has a Mistress who does not challenge her enough. Next time, acknowledge *why* you erred as well. Were you not such a horny thing, I suspect you would have won." She taps your cheek with the back of her gloved hand, smiling. "That is part of why I like you, though." You're not given warning before she rudely presses your ring gag back into your mouth, sliding it behind your teeth as she locks its buckles back into place. If you had any doubt as to her having decided your need to speak had come to a momentary end, it is crushed by the return of your oral insert as well-- the glossy laminate cock sliding effortlessly between your waiting lips. It hilts itself with a magnetic click. (if: not ($Inv contains "oral cock insert"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "oral cock insert"))](if: not ($Inv contains "Isabella's ring gag"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "Isabella's ring gag"))] (colour: red)[Oral cock insert and ring gag added!] Afterward she proceeds to begin unlocking you from your restraints, undoing the laminate bands holding you upright to the bed. The vibe wand she leaves for last, its tormenting presence monopolizing most of your attention until she finally, mercifully, pulls it away. You're free, or as much as you could be, coated in laminate from head to toe, straitjacketed and collared. (if: $IsGame is 3)[Tysus remains in place however, as ](if: $IsGame is 2)[Tysus is still on the bed, in her straitjacket and gags, apparently sleeping soundly as ]Isabella returns her attention to you. "On your knees, so that we can discuss what comes next." [[You move, almost without even considering it, to you knees.->IsabellaTalk]]

"Very good," Isabella responds approvingly. "A slave who does not need correction has a Mistress who does not challenge her enough. But you are clever enough to recognize *why* you lost, and to voice it. Were you not such a horny thing, I suspect you would have won. There is great shame in announcing that, of course, but you must always do so." She taps your cheek with the back of her gloved hand, smiling. "Seeing you ashamed pleases me." You're not given warning before she rudely presses your ring gag back into your mouth, sliding it behind your teeth as she locks its buckles back into place. If you had any doubt as to her having decided your need to speak had come to a momentary end, it is crushed by the return of your oral insert as well-- the glossy laminate cock sliding effortlessly between your waiting lips. It hilts itself with a magnetic click. (if: not ($Inv contains "oral cock insert"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "oral cock insert"))](if: not ($Inv contains "Isabella's ring gag"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "Isabella's ring gag"))] (colour: red)[Oral cock insert and ring gag added!] Afterward she proceeds to begin unlocking you from your restraints, undoing the laminate bands holding you upright to the bed. The vibe wand she leaves for last, its tormenting presence monopolizing most of your attention until she finally, mercifully, pulls it away. You're free, or as much as you could be, coated in laminate from head to toe, straitjacketed and collared. (if: $IsGame is 3)[Tysus remains in place however, as ](if: $IsGame is 2)[Tysus is still on the bed, in her straitjacket and gags, apparently sleeping soundly as ]Isabella returns her attention to you. "On your knees, so that we can discuss what comes next." [[You move, almost without even considering it, to you knees.->IsabellaTalk]]

Petros casually slaps your rear in response-- apparently his unspoken means of acknowledging you, in a manner you cannot help but feel some affection towards. In his eyes you have to imagine he saw you as little more than property, and being treated as such was far from unappealing. *Enthused*, perhaps, would best describe you. Nor is he done. Wrists bound behind your back, gagged, he then adds a third implement-- a length of midnight black chain that is strung between your ankles. Short, coming in at only half a foot, it would seriously impede your stride. (if: not ($Inv contains "Petros' hobble"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "Petros' hobble"))] (colour: red)[Petros' Hobble Chain added!] Had Euphoria not been gagged, you can only imagine she would have delivered a short sermon on the propriety of being hobbled. Something along the lines of a restrained gait matching your femininity, perhaps. Either way, for now she is merely subjected to the same treatment, a hobble between her legs completing the look. With both his charges properly restrained, Petros does not waste further time on your needs or desires-- he turns promptly on his heel and begins to walk. Your leashes go taut moments later, and with a stuttering step and clink of hobble chain you beging to follow. [[Your Sister, Euphoria, by your side.->Nun10]]

You may stay silent, but Euphoria purrs a pleased moan, and is met with a firm slap of her ass by Petros-- apparently his unspoken means of acknowledging a slave, in a manner you cannot help but feel some affection towards. In his eyes you have to imagine he saw you both as little more than property, and being treated as such was far from unappealing. *Enthused*, perhaps, would best describe you. Nor is he done. Wrists bound behind your back, gagged, he then adds a third implement-- a length of midnight black chain that is strung between your ankles. Short, coming in at only half a foot, it would seriously impede your stride. (if: not ($Inv contains "Petros' hobble"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "Petros' hobble"))] (colour: red)[Petros' Hobble Chain added!] Had Euphoria not been gagged, you can only imagine she would have delivered a short sermon on the propriety of being hobbled. Something along the lines of a restrained gait matching your femininity, perhaps. Either way, for now she is merely subjected to the same treatment, a hobble between her legs completing the look. With both his charges properly restrained, Petros does not waste further time on your needs or desires-- he turns promptly on his heel and begins to walk. Your leashes go taut moments later, and with a stuttering step and clink of hobble chain you beging to follow. [[Your Sister, Euphoria, by your side.->Nun10]]

You try to focus on your footing, walking while hobbled was hard enough without Petros' strict pace, but you cannot keep your eyes down for long. The wonders of Torei still surround you, just as they had that morning when you first stepped out from the hotel to gaze in wonder at Grand Aekora's streets. But now things are almost reversed. While then you had been just another wide-eyed tourist, now *you're* the collared and restrained slavegirl that offworlders-- almost always so obvious in the way they stared-- gawked at openly. Certainly you struck quite an image, in your laminate regalia, side-by side with your red uniformed, taller Sister, following along on the leash the male before you held tightly. You draw even further attention when Petros leads you out into the night on occasion, taking shortcuts between the covered walkways that allowed freewombs to skirt curfew at this hour-- chained to a proper Torean Master, you're in a spotlight all your own out there, the throngs visible through the windows peering out with understandable curiosity. Even among Toreans, your uniform is particularly strange. Passing back into another covered area, you approach not the Club that was your destination, but a small shop of some sort. [[Just what was Petros doing?->Nun11]]

At the door of the shop Petros continues a few steps onward, to a series of simple metal poles driven into the ground. You've passed a few such sets during your walk, none more than half a dozen in number, but only now do you realized their use as you observe one already 'occupied.' A slave, her full enclosure suit marking her as clearly as the collar around her throat, is kneeling with her back to the pole, arms wrapped around it. A chain between her wrists is linked to a second one between her ankles, keeping her stationary, while another link between the back of her collar and the pole ensures she could not move. A set of public hitching posts, much like the one you had been hooked to in the terminal. "I must make a call to my estate," Petros explains. "And the Club is loud. I will use one of the stations inside, but slaves are not allowed into terminal cafes. You will await my return." He does not give you an option to refuse, although given your restraints you doubt you could manage much anyway. Euphoria takes it in stride anyway, her habit shifting as she nods. She's the first to led to a pole, and in her bondage you realize Petros would be leaving you in a harsher state than even the slave-suited woman. Euphoria is placed with her back to the pole, bound arms lifted over it so as to encircle before she lowers down into a kneel. The first chain Petros produces is attached to the back of her collar, linking it with a hardpoint at the top of the pole-- just as the slave girl was restrained. He goes further however by then forcing her booted feet up, further and further until they press against the backs of her thighs. There he links them, keeping them in place, allowing Euphoria only her knees themselves upon which to balance. She wriggles afterward, her full breasts shifting lewdly atop her corset, but can neither take her weight from her knees nor fall over-- a position you quickly recognize as agonizing. Even so, your elder Sister seems to be smiling around her gag, beneath her muzzle. [[And you're next.->Nun12]]

The process is repeated upon your slighter form. Back to the pole, leashed, arms around it, legs forced up and behind your thighs. In mere moments you're kneeling in pain, back curved and breasts pushed out as you wriggle just as intently as Euphoria, fighting in vain for a position that would give you comfort. Upon the harsh concrete your knees complain of taking your whole weight, and the way your arms are wrenched back and secured around the pole induce a burning in your shoulders. A final addition comes in the way Petros tightens the straps of your corset that ran between your legs, squeezing another half inch from them, the grinding sensation of the thick laminate running to each side of your womanhood damnably close to providing a teasing sensation. You moan in response but Petros ignores you, instead standing. He had explained himself once and makes no effort to do so again, but merely turns towards the terminal cafe. The door clicking closed is the final announcement of his dismissal, while you are left behind on a public street, bound and gagged. At your side Euphoria arches her back just a bit further, fully presenting herself, while the slave bound to your other side merely stares warily. [[Present yourself eagerly, as your Sister demonstrates.->Nun13Present]] [[Struggle in your bondage!->Nun13Strug]] [[Try to use the straps between your legs for pleasure.->Nun13Please]]

Taking Euphoria's cue, you seek to mimic her. Head lifted to demonstrate your veiled nature, back curved alluringly, emphasizing bust and rear, and of course legs spread willingly. All of it forces you against your restraints, but not in a manner that sought escape-- just the opposite in fact. The added discomfort is merely a byproduct of your submission, seeking out every facet of liberty left to you so as to better recognize that you are well and truly bound. And it is not long before you draw attention. The slave-suited woman to your side had been there longer, but her sort were common enough-- several pass by, a few leashed, others undoubtedly running errands for their owners. But your uniform is unique, excepting Euphoria's at your side of course, and its ritual complexity quickly draws interest. The first is a woman in a blue office slave's attire, although the lack of a collar announces she was a freewomb, her short skirt requiring her to crouch down carefully before Euphoria as she stops. "Sister," she greets, the uniformity of Euphoria's rank preventing any identification beyond that. "Your Order is always such an inspiration to me..." She glances to you. "A Novitiate? I'm... allowed to touch you, right? I know you're presenting, but..." [[Meet her eyes and nod.->Nun14]] [[Moan.->Nun14B]]

You struggle, as millions of Toreans have done before. And like so many others, you do so in vain. Laminate, Torei's most useful material, is as resilient as it is unyielding. Yet you persist, ignoring the ache in your shoulders and neck as you pull against the chains. Your breasts shift with each movement, and you can feel your septum piercing swing up and tap against the tip of your nose. Still nothing. Yet it is not long before you draw attention. The slave-suited woman to your side had been there longer, but her sort were common enough-- several pass by, a few leashed, others undoubtedly running errands for their owners. But your uniform is unique, excepting Euphoria's at your side of course, and its ritual complexity quickly draws interest. The first is a woman in a blue office slave's attire, although the lack of a collar announces she was a freewomb, her short skirt requiring her to crouch down carefully before Euphoria as she stops. "Sister," she greets, the uniformity of Euphoria's rank preventing any identification beyond that. "Your Order is always such an inspiration to me..." She glances to you. "A Novitiate? I'm... allowed to touch you, right? I saw you struggling, but..." [[Meet her eyes and nod.->Nun14]] [[Moan.->Nun14B]]

Like so many other Torean slaves, you allow sensation to guide you. Dignity and restraint are cast aside, replaced by that hungry need for *more*, and with wanton abandon you grind your hips forward. The straps running down from your heavy corset, between your legs and then back up across your rear do indeed shift-- but not enough. The effort only frustrates you further, besides leaving you panting afterward. Yet it is not long before you draw attention. The slave-suited woman to your side had been there longer, but her sort were common enough-- several pass by, a few leashed, others undoubtedly running errands for their owners. But your uniform is unique, excepting Euphoria's at your side of course, and its ritual complexity quickly draws interest. The first is a woman in a blue office slave's attire, although the lack of a collar announces she was a freewomb, her short skirt requiring her to crouch down carefully before Euphoria as she stops. "Sister," she greets, the uniformity of Euphoria's rank preventing any identification beyond that. "Your Order is always such an inspiration to me..." She glances to you. "A Novitiate? I'm... allowed to touch you, right? I saw you trying to pleasure yourself, but..." [[Meet her eyes and nod.->Nun14]] [[Moan.->Nun14B]]

Your invitation is met immediately, the freewomb's hands finding your waist, following the strict corsetry upward. At your chest her fingers merely dance, fingertips running along your encapsulated breasts, her eyes wide with excitement. "I can't... imagine what its like, to wear all this." Her exploring continues, a mark of her acclimation to Torean culture that she hardly considers your violation. "To submit entirely to the strictures of the Order. I... think about it, sometimes. I know that I'm weak, as a woman, just like your scriptures say. That it would just be *natural* to submit, like you have. You're so brave!" She bites her lip, then pulls her hands away. They collect before her, wringing a bit. Anxious. "Are you regretting your choice to submit to the Order? At all?" [[Shake your head 'yes', you are.->Nun15A]] [[Shake your head 'no', this is where you belong!->Nun15B]]

If your moan was an invitation or an attempt to refuse, the freewomb hardly seems to consider the later, hands finding your waist, following the strict corsetry upward. At your chest her fingers merely dance, fingertips running along your encapsulated breasts, her eyes wide with excitement. "I can't... imagine what its like, to wear all this." Her exploring continues, a mark of her acclimation to Torean culture that she hardly considers your violation. "To submit entirely to the strictures of the Order. I... think about it, sometimes. I know that I'm weak, as a woman, just like your scriptures say. That it would just be *natural* to submit, like you have. You're so brave!" She bites her lip, then pulls her hands away. They collect before her, wringing a bit. Anxious. "Are you regretting your choice to submit to the Order? At all?" [[Shake your head 'yes', you are.->Nun15A]] [[Shake your head 'no', this is where you belong!->Nun15B]]

Your response doesn't seem to surprise the woman, but the way her lips shift suggests a frown. Or perhaps disappointment. Your inability to elaborate provides the room she needed for her faith however, and she fills it it appropriately. Clearly she *had* spent some considerable time in the Convent. "Its natural to have doubts. Obviously its too late for you, though. And I'm sure the Sisters will train you out of it." She glances to Euphoria, who is watching the exchange without any indication of her own thoughts. The freewomb sighs. "Maybe a couple more sessions will help me make a decision. Until then, more *work.*" She stands, adjusts her skirt, and walks away. [[Clearly the daily grind could prove bothersome, even on Torei.->Nun16]]

Your response seems to catch the woman by surprise, even if she had just moments before been expressing interest in your commitment. "Really? Just looking at you... do you *like* being kept like that?" She doesn't get an answer, given your inability to speak. But she does glance to Euphoria, who is watching the exchange from her own hitching post beside you. "You know... maybe I should go and talk with the Sisters at the Convent, one more time... to wear a uniform like yours..." She stands, adjusts her skirt, then looks down at you again. A shiver, a smile, and walks away. [[Another convert? Only time would tell.->Nun16]]

The woman disappears into the crowd, and proves to be bolder than most. Others pause to stare at you and Euphoria, and occasionally the third girl wearing a slave suit, but none approach you. What had been a novel experience starts to grow stale, especially as your body begins to protest at the strict bondage, yet your escort and temporary Master still doesn't emerge. You find yourself growing increasingly aroused, despite your best efforts. Exactly *why* is harder to pinpoint. Perhaps it was your uniform, the smooth embrace of your layers of laminate. Or your bondage, the sensation of helplessness growing alongside your discomfort, unable to free yourself. Or perhaps you simply liked being on display, left outside a shop like a bothersome pet. Certainly the leash hooked to the rear of your collar helped reinforce that. The third slave's owner eventually returns, unhooking her before reapplying a leash and leading her away. You're not spared much of a glance, and Euphoria at least doesn't seem bothered-- she retains her strict posture and position, readily showcasing her impressive curves for everyone who passes. [[An hour eventually slips by.->Nun17]]

Finally your Master returns. Petros emerges from the terminal cafe much as he had entered, without much apparent concern for your situation. He does address you immediately however, checking you over, asking quickly if you had been bothered. Clearly he didn't think embarrassment and molestation counted as 'bothered' however, and in short order he's unchaining you. Euphoria is treated first, the hierarchy of slaves respected, but soon you too are allowed to stand. To your surprise your muscles protest a bit, lingering pain in your thighs especially burning brightly. Petros clearly notes your discomfort as he hooks your collar back into place, although his masked visage suggests little sympathy. His tone is none the better. "A few weeks collared, and you will get used to it." His words seem to suggest the truth, gauging by Euphoria. Despite being twice your age she appears utterly unbothered. If that was simple experience, or Torean biomedical wizardry, you cannot tell. [[A tug on your collar draws you forth once more.->Nun18]]

Your Master, as always, sets a harsh pace. By the time Petros finally stops some twenty minutes later you're breathing heavily through your nose, the heavy steel ring through your septum having proven bothersome. The street upon which you stand is covered like all the rest, but its the building jutting out before you that draws your attention. 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. Petros of course makes that way immediately, dragging you along behind. [[Those in line glare as you and your escort skip to the front.->Nun19]]

To your surprise the bouncer doesn't immediately demand you return to the back of the line, and instead looks Petros up and down. A moment passes, then two. "Master Petros, how good of you to join us this evening." Reaching to his side, he pushes the door open, then finally turns his attention to you and Euphoria. "Two Sisters of the Order too? Oblations?" Petros shakes his head. "Their business is their own." "Shame, as you know the owner always appreciates when the Order provides free services." Gesturing for your small party to pass, he reaches to your rear as you pass, fondling you briefly through the slick laminate of your uniform. [[Sound indignant! "Mmmgh!"->Nun20A]] [[Mewl happily. "Mmmgh..."->Nun20B]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/DZBI1bG.png" width="80%" height="80%"> "Silence," Petros commands from his position before you, leading into the neon maw of Club Lush proper. "This is your path, you have nothing to complain about." 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. 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. Your heeled boots put you on display as much as anyone else, the posture required of them setting off your suit brilliantly-- which gleams like an obsidian and alabaster ocean, each blast of color from the club itself running down your curvaceous form. Your full regalia marks you as slave and Sister, while your gags deny speech-- altogether your womanly muscles contract, hungry for attention. You hardly recognize yourself, or how you feel... knowing only that altogether it makes you so very wet. [[Gaze long into the abyss...->MeetCherishNun]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/DZBI1bG.png" width="80%" height="80%"> "Silence," Petros commands from his position before you, leading into the neon maw of Club Lush proper. But at your side Euphoria glances your way, red eyes gleaming with amusement. 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. 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. Your heeled boots put you on display as much as anyone else, the posture required of them setting off your suit brilliantly-- which gleams like an obsidian and alabaster ocean, each blast of color from the club itself running down your curvaceous form. Your full regalia marks you as slave and Sister, while your gags deny speech-- altogether your womanly muscles contract, hungry for attention. You hardly recognize yourself, or how you feel... knowing only that altogether it makes you so very wet. [[Gaze long into the abyss...->MeetCherishNun]]

<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. Petros turns his head to regard her, while you see that she 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. You recognize it as that peculiar Torean practice, a very well practiced Torean reverence. "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. "A booth," Petros responds. "Ground floor, prominent. Its time your rabble see how two *proper* women serve." [[Cherish glances your way, then nods and begins leading the way.->MeetCherisNun2]]

As promised, the booth Cherish leads Petros and his trailing enslaved Sisters is very much the center of attention, directly before the stage and sunken slightly into the ground. The handful of tables ahead would need to look back, but everyone else in the Club need only glance your way to observe what was about to occur. "Is there anything else I can do to serve, Master?" Cherish collects her hands before her as Petros looks upon her selection, nodding thoughtfully before he responds. "A glass of *Lash*, and be quick about it." The slave jumps to the command immediately, while Petros turns to his charges. Moving to Euphoria, he pulls down her muzzle momentarily, allowing him to remove her gag, but leaves the panel of laminate down. Euphoria's marked lips almost glow in the light of the club, **Sinner** and **Slave** shining prominently. Tossing the gag aside, he leaves you momentarily incapable of speech-- your thoughts were not necessary. "Thus comes your remittance," he says with his strange drawl. "You will pay as a woman should, with her body?" "Of course," Euphoria replies, her gloved hands twisting a bit in their restrained position behind her. "Would you be willing to assist us in accessing the VIP section? We would of course compensate you further." The Master shakes his head. "I dislike the VIP area, it is quiet and demure. I do not come to Lush for this. And besides, you have no legitimate business in such an area, as slaves." "As you say," Euphoria nods, her habit emphasizing the movement. "But there is a matter we must address, regardless." "Then you will need to find some other means of access," the man replies simply. "I will hear no more of it. I would make use of your holes." Euphoria nods again, taking his refusal in stride. "I have only the one of course, but we are slaves, and willing to serve. She kneels before him as he takes a seat, then turns her red eyes towards you. *Get down*, they command. [[You comply.->Nun21]]

Still hobbled and with your hands behind your back, moving to a kneeling position is difficult-- but you manage. Cherish returns as you do, depositing the requested drink before withdrawing again. Petros ignores it, and instead reaches down, pulling down your muzzle. Like Euphoria, he plucks free your gag. (if: $Inv contains "Petros' ball")[(set: $Inv to $Inv - (a: "Petros' ball"))](if: $Inv contains "Petros' cock")[(set: $Inv to $Inv - (a: "Petros' cock"))] (colour: green)[Gag removed!] "Sister," Euphoria says at your side, kneeling before Petros. It is strange to see her speak with her lips exposed. "As our escort, it is only natural that we owe Master Petros compensation for his time and efforts. Given our vows of poverty, we are of course unable to provide this via credits. Thus we have only the ancient and most holy of ways to repay him, that of our path. Sensation and pleasure. Service, as he wills it." As if on cue, Petros' gloved hand moves to his midsection, and undoes a zipper just below his navel. The black of his laminate splits, revealing his manhood, large and imposing, sheathed in black laminate. Already it stands at attention, and at the tip you glimpse an opening, clearly intended to provide him with the ability to relieve himself. Euphoria's lips almost pop into an 'O' as if it were a natural reaction, but she collects herself, smiling with those marked lips. "We will render service together," she explains. "You need only follow my lead." (set: $Strike to 0) [["Truly, we are honored to serve, Sister."->Nun22A]] [["I'm not sure I can do this, Sister..."->Nun22B]] [["I have other holes he could use, Sister!"->Nun22C]]

Euphoria's smile is gentle and understanding, although the markings upon her lips stand out starkly as they do upon your own lips: **Sinner**. **Slave.** "Yes we are, Sister. Now, you shall of course remain silent during our service unless spoken to directly. You shall follow my lead, and focus upon the Master's pleasure at all times. You shall ignore the attention we will inevitably draw. And if the Master deems us worthy of tasting his seed, you must remember that it is a most grievous insult to allow any of it to fall upon the floor. Is that understood?" [["Yes, Sister."->Nun23]]

Euphoria's smile is gentle and understanding, although the markings upon her lips stand out starkly as they do upon your own lips: **Sinner**. **Slave.** "You need not doubt yourself, Sister. As a woman, this is what you were created to do. To provide pleasure is our purpose. Now, you shall of course remain silent during our service unless spoken to directly. You shall follow my lead, and focus upon the Master's pleasure at all times. You shall ignore the attention we will inevitably draw. And if the Master deems us worthy of tasting his seed, you must remember that it is a most grievous insult to allow any of it to fall upon the floor. Is that understood?" (set: $Strike to it + 1) [["Yes, Sister."->Nun23]]

Euphoria's smile is gentle and understanding, although the markings upon her lips stand out starkly as they do upon your own lips: **Sinner**. **Slave.** "Enthusiasm is important, but you must remember your place, Sister. Chastity is a topic we must discuss, but that time will come. Now, you shall of course remain silent during our service unless spoken to directly. You shall follow my lead, and focus upon the Master's pleasure at all times. You shall ignore the attention we will inevitably draw. And if the Master deems us worthy of tasting his seed, you must remember that it is a most grievous insult to allow any of it to fall upon the floor. Is that understood?" [["Yes, Sister."->Nun23]]

"Very good." Turning her veiled head back towards Petros, who observed your instruction with perhaps surprising patience, Euphoria adjusts her posture. Still kneeling, wrists linked behind her back, she presents herself as only a Torean slave could. Chest out, back slightly curved, legs spread, lips opened and ready for service. "My holes are yours, Master." [[Take the same pose, and repeat her words. "My holes are yours, Master."->Nun24]]

Petros leans forward in his seat, looking between the nuns before him. As always his mask hides his expression, but you sense a certain sort of approval nevertheless. Reaching out, his hand moves towards your mouth. You open in response, allowing a submissive expression to shift your marked 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. "There are many slaves on this planet," he speaks aloud. "But you are still a beauty among them, even if your uniform is intended to present you as such. For this you should still be lauded, regardless. Laminate and bondage suit you." He pulls his hand back, wiping your own saliva upon your chin. "Does bondage please you, slave?" [["Yes, Master."->Nun25Yes]] [["It is how I best serve, Master."->Nun25Extra]]

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. There he finds the trailing edges of your habit resting, and he draws it back gently, like hair you are no longer capable of displaying. [[Press your chest out further.->Nun26Press]] [[Remain still.->Nun26Still]]

Resting comfortably in your bondage, you cannot help but smile as you respond with such 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 acknowledges, even as his hands return to your bound form, drifting to your shoulders. There he finds the trailing edges of your habit resting, and he draws it back gently, like hair you are no longer capable of displaying. (set: $Strike to it - 1) [[Press your chest out further.->Nun26Press]] [[Remain still.->Nun26Still]]

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. The bottommost layer of your uniform, the catsuit, is well tailored, the breast cups that held your chest providing as much lift and support as they do display. 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. "Once you are graced with the Vow of Uniformity, as your elder Sister has, you will be capable of presenting Torean perfection." He tweaks Euphoria's own nipples, their piercings standing out as she coos softly, spurring him on. Its a game between them, her goading him for more, the male holding his reserve. He wins in that moment, looking back to you. "But you *are* pleasing now, on your knees, as a woman should be. Not like an offworlder slut who does not truly understand. This is why I give so freely to your Order-- seeing women like you made into *this* pleases me greatly." His magnanimity peaks, and with a gesture he indicates his rigid cock, the laminate pulled tightly around it gleaming. "Your Sister suggested you should follow her lead, but I would like to see what you can manage yourself. Open your mouth." (set: $Strike to it - 1) [[Move your lips into an inviting O-shape.->Nun27]]

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. The bottommost layer of your uniform, the catsuit, is well tailored, the breast cups that held your chest providing as much lift and support as they do display. 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. "Once you are graced with the Vow of Uniformity, as your elder Sister has, you will be capable of presenting Torean perfection." He tweaks Euphoria's own nipples, their piercings standing out as she coos softly, spurring him on. Its a game between them, her goading him for more, the male holding his reserve. He wins in that moment, looking back to you. "But you *are* pleasing now, on your knees, as a woman should be. Not like an offworlder slut who does not truly understand. This is why I give so freely to your Order-- seeing women like you made into *this* pleases me greatly." His magnanimity peaks, and with a gesture he indicates his rigid cock, the laminate pulled tightly around it gleaming. "Your Sister suggested you should follow her lead, but I would like to see what you can manage yourself. Open your mouth." [[Move your lips into an inviting O-shape.->Nun27]]

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. Euphoria meanwhile augments the experience by leaning in, her red eyes gleaming as she suckles upon his balls, her tongue rolling out slowly to tease and play. [[Pull your head back.->Nun28Fail]] [[Suck gently on his member.->Nun28Suck]] [[Look up and moan happily.->Nun28Moan]]

Your attempt to pull back is halted by his hand on your head, holding you firmly upon his cock. His reprimand is simply put. "Hold, Sister." (set: $Strike to it + 1) [[Look up and Moan happily.->Nun28Moan]]

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.->Nun29Tease]] [[Take him into your mouth again, quickly.->Nun29Fail]] [[Take him into your mouth again, slowly.->Nun29Slow]]

Meeting his eyes directly is impossible given his mask, and the fall of your habit, but you look up nevertheless, moaning lewdly with cock all but down your throat. His reprimand is immediate. "Eyes down, Sister." (set: $Strike to it + 1) [[Suck gently on his member.->Nun28Suck]]

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. Euphoria does the same on the other side, her glossy lips nearly touching your ow. Your eyes meet, and she winks. Above you Petros grunts a bit, perhaps surprised. He certainly approves, as indicated by the way he nods. "Very good, Sisters. I would enjoy some prayer during your work. The Canticle of Submission would be most fitting, I do believe. Call and return, Euphoria you will of course lead." Your elder Sister takes the request entirely in stride, pulling back from his cock just long enough to begin. "I am a woman, weak and in need of guidance. I beseech you Master..." Repeating her words would be difficult, with his cock in your mouth. [[That can't be what he wants.->Nun30Fail]] [[Try anyway.->Nun30Pass]]

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. Slower." Euphoria passes you a supportive glance, all but indicating you should try again. (set: $Strike to it + 1) [[Use your lips to gently tease his member.->Nun29Tease]] [[Take him into your mouth again, slowly.->Nun29Slow]]

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 treatment 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? "Very good, Sisters," he says matter of factly. I would enjoy some prayer during your work. The Canticle of Submission would be most fitting, I do believe. Call and return, Euphoria you will of course lead." Your elder Sister takes the request entirely in stride, pulling back from his cock just long enough to begin. "I am a woman, weak and in need of guidance. I beseech you Master..." Repeating her words would be difficult, with his cock in your mouth. [[That can't be what he wants.->Nun30Fail]] [[Try anyway.->Nun30Pass]]

Your hesitation is noted by both Petros and Euphoria. Your Sister lifts her brows, pushing you forward without the words she was forbidden, but in the end it takes the Master's intervention. "Even gagged on my cock, I would have you at prayer," he commands. "As a novitiate you will learn many such prayers by heart, so that you may never forget what you are-- and so that you may tell others as well. I would have you begin such training now." (set: $Strike to it + 1) [[You nod, and begin.->Nun30Pass]]

*I am a woman, weak and in need of guidance. I beseech you Master...* The words spill from your mouth, Euphoria repeating them to join you in a chorus of submission. Sound carries, even over the din of Club Lush, drawing several stares from those nearby. Offworlders especially take interest, your regalia, bondage, and prayer providing a better show than the band upon the stage. Your Sister ignores them, as you have been commanded, and instead continues. "...for your strict restraint, for a collar upon my throat..." Yet even as you prepare the words, Master Petros' cock stands before you. The first effort has been completed, but now you must 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.->Nun31Tease]] [[Keep it slow, work him over carefully.->Nun31Slow]] [[Keep it brisk, you don't want to bore him.->Nun31Brisk]] [[Take him as hard as you can, like the fucktoy you are.->Nun31Fast]]

You decide upon a truly *slow* approach, often breaking from your stroking motions along his cock to kiss the shaft, or joining Euphoria 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. 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 veiled head, seizing you sharply. "Do you think me another slave, to tease in this manner? You are not my soubrette, Sister." Forcibly, he drives you hard back onto his cock, directing a much quicker pace to make up for the lost time. Euphoria meanwhile keeps up her prayer, expecting you to do so as well. "...there is no greater calling then my service, and I give it unto you freely, Master. I am a slut, and without your leash I would be of little use otherwise..." (set: $Strike to it + 1) [["there ish nnmgh grrmmgh callmming..."->Nun32]]

You decide upon a slow approach, keeping your lips formally upon his cock with each backstroke, but moving at a careful, languid pace that includes joining Euphoria 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. 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 veiled head, seizing you sharply. "Do you think me another slave, to tease in this manner? You are not my soubrette, Sister." Forcibly, he drives you hard back onto his cock, directing a much quicker pace to make up for the lost time. Euphoria meanwhile keeps up her prayer, expecting you to do so as well. "...there is no greater calling then my service, and I give it unto you freely, Master. I am a slut, and without your leash I would be of little use otherwise..." (set: $Strike to it + 1) [["there ish nnmgh grrmmgh callmming..."->Nun32]]

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 veiled head. His next command is dreadfully simple. "Faster." Euphoria meanwhile keeps up her prayer, expecting you to do so as well. "...there is no greater calling then my service, and I give it unto you freely, Master. I am a slut, and without your leash I would be of little use otherwise..." [["there ish nnmgh grrmmgh callmming..."->Nun32]]

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 veiled head. "This does not please me," he declares, matter of factly. "As a Sister you are a whore, this is your nature, but this lacks grace. Your movements should be faster, but more fluid." 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... Euphoria meanwhile keeps up her prayer, expecting you to do so as well. "...there is no greater calling then my service, and I give it unto you freely, Master. I am a slut, and without your leash I would be of little use otherwise..." (set: $Strike to it + 1) [["there ish nnmgh grrmmgh callmming..."->Nun32]]

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-- yet Euphoria keeps to her own task as well, continuing to guide you in prayer to the man using you so forcibly. "Gag me. Bind me. Fuck me, Master. But remember that I am a sinner, and that to spare me is to spoil me..." [[Try to ask him to slow!->Nun33Slow]] [[Pull against his hands, to get him to slow!->Nun33Pull]] [[Try to speed up even further. Race for his climax!->Nun33Race]]

"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. "Your prayer, Sister-- I will hear it!" The pace had left Euphoria without the chance to work the man's cock, but she continues to provide you the words to the prayer, even as she watches your struggle intently. "Your guidance makes me a better slave, and that in turn makes me a better woman..." 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... (set: $Strike to it + 1) [[...in and out... "Yrrgh guidgggnce..."->Nun34]]

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. "Your prayer, Sister-- I will hear it!" The pace had left Euphoria without the chance to work the man's cock, but she continues to provide you the words to the prayer, even as she watches your struggle intently. "Your guidance makes me a better slave, and that in turn makes me a better woman..." 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... (set: $Strike to it + 1) [[...in and out... "Yrrgh guidgggnce..."->Nun34]]

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. The pace had left Euphoria without the chance to work the man's cock, but she continues to provide you the words to the prayer, even as she watches your struggle intently. "Your guidance makes me a better slave, and that in turn makes me a better woman..." 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... "Yrrgh guidgggnce..."->Nun34]]

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. Euphoria recognizes what is happening immediately, her prayer concluding as she lifts her chin to reveal her throat-- as much of a hint as she can give. "...we are in the end slaves, and our desires are of little consequence." [[Focus on swallowing!->Nun35Swallow]] [[Focus on his pleasure!->Nun35Fail]]

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-- even as his member finally slips from between your lips. In his wake you're left panting, those who had been observing staring at your bound form. You hardly have the cognizance to care about them, as instead you gasp for breath, eagerly sucking down air. Each heavy breath lifts your breasts, undoubtedly presenting an alluring display. Your Master however refrains, instead producing a thin-lam handkerchief which he proceeds to use to clean your saliva from his cock. It almost makes his last command flippant. "Kiss your Sister. She will be eager for a taste." [[You barely have time to turn your head before Euphoria is upon you.->Nun36]]

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. Above, breathing heavily through his mask, Petros for the only time shows a hint of actual anger towards you. "Slaves always swallow, Sister. Always." In his wake you're left panting, those who had been observing staring at your bound form. You hardly have the cognizance to care about them, as instead you gasp for breath, eagerly sucking down air. Each heavy breath lifts your breasts, undoubtedly presenting an alluring display. Your Master however refrains, instead producing a thin-lam handkerchief which he proceeds to use to clean your saliva from his cock. It almost makes his last command flippant. "Kiss your Sister. She will be eager for a taste." (set: $Strike to it + 2) [[You barely have time to turn your head before Euphoria is upon you.->Nun36]]

Even bound, Euphoria's improvements make her taller and larger in every way. Her height eclipses your view of the club, her laminated features filling the circle of vision your habit allowed. Her lips are fuller then yours, and her breasts more endowed as she leans in, the **Sinner** and **Slave** markings coming together with her own. Her tongue enters your mouth and overwhelms your own, exploring freely, furthering the sensation of the elder woman's kiss. Its blissful, and frustrating, the desire that had been growing between your legs only heightened by such direct attention. Even now, bound and in full laminate regalia, with a small crowd watching you have no sense of shame-- not anymore. You merely indulge in her kiss, in the taste of your Master's cum upon your tongue, in the ecstasy of it all... "Bourbon." Petros' voice breaks your reverie, and with it Euphoria pulls back, although her lips smile as her eyes gleam. She licks the former clean, their glossy crimson nature so very appealing that you almost lose focus again. But with a blink you look away, to where your Master is once more seated, his codpiece restored. The slave from earlier, Cherish, is taking his order with a nod. [[Your chain rustles as you shift, for the first time feeling the effects of kneeling upon the hard floor for as long as you have.->Nun37]]

Cherish's departure to the bar induces Petros to lean forward, his mask as expressionless as ever. A Torean male, born and bred-- you struggle to fathom just what he could be considering in that moment, although when he finally speaks it becomes obvious: your performance. "The debt between us is paid, Sisters, your service rendered," he notes. (if: $Strike is < 0)["And your service, Sister Azalea, was most pleasing. I understand that you are new to this life, to your collar, but truly you are well fitted to it. There is little doubt in my mind that you will be presented to me, sometime in the future, to be remade in the Order's idealized image. The Vow of Uniformity, so that you are all but indistinguishable from your other Sisters, such as Euphoria. It is a great honor, and it would please me greatly to take your identity someday."](if: $Strike is 0 or 1 or 2)["And your service, Sister Azalea, was better than I expected. Novitiates have much to learn, and you are no exception, but your efforts were nearly flawless. Focus on your studies and prayer, and you have a good chance of being made into a full Sister."](if: $Strike is 3 or 4 or 5 or 6)["And your service, Sister Azalea, was... as I expected. You still have much to learn, as a Novitiate. This cannot be avoided. But you must apply yourself. To be collared as you are by the Order is something any proper women would beg for. Remember this."](if: $Strike is > 6)[And your service, Sister Azalea, was... disappointing. Novitiates have much to learn, but you have more than most. You must focus on your studies. To be collared as you have been, any proper woman would beg for the opportunity. Do not squander it."] He tips his mask, one hand finding his chin. Cherish returns, presenting his drink with a flourish. He takes it, then presses a button on the table. The slavegirl jumps in surprise, clearly fighting the desire to reach down between her legs. A reward mechanism of some sort? Neither figure explains, and besides, Petros looks to you again. His question is simple. "Were you aware Sister Euphoria is burdened with chastity?" [["Chastity? What... do you mean, Master?"->Nun38What]] [["No, Master. Chastity?"->Nun38What]] [["My Sister once mentioned such a vow, as a choice a Sister can make..."->Nun38]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/a4T6L2k.png" width="40%" height="40%"> Leaning forward, Master Petros undoes the pair of straps that descended from Euphoria's corset and ran between her legs. Thus freed, the red of her panties can be pulled down, revealing a hidden feature: a flat portion of silvery steel, positioned directly over her womanhood. It curves down and between her legs, while the upper portion disappears beneath her corset. A small lock symbol glows red upon the shield. "It is a vow of your Order," Petros explains, even as he begins returning Euphoria's uniform to its regular state. "Optional... in a manner of speaking. If you are without such a vow, you are free to take it at any time. But you are also a slave, and your Master-- your true Master, the Benefactor of your Order, allows for anyone to enforce the vow upon you. For a daily tithe, one that can be extended or retracted at will." His mask shifts to Euphoria, who had been starkly quiet during the revelation. Concluding his efforts to cover her again, Petros addresses her directly. "How long has your current period of chastity been, Sister Euphoria?" "Eight months, fourteen days," she answers immediately. "And how would you describe the burden of chastity?" At that, Euphoria smiles. But its a tight expression. "Enlightening, Master. An enlightening hell." [["That sounds... horrible!"->Nun39Horrible]] [["That sounds... wonderful!"->Nun39Wonderful]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/a4T6L2k.png" width="40%" height="40%"> Leaning forward, Master Petros undoes the pair of straps that descended from Euphoria's corset and ran between her legs. Thus freed, the red of her panties can be pulled down, revealing a hidden feature: a flat portion of silvery steel, positioned directly over her womanhood. It curves down and between her legs, while the upper portion disappears beneath her corset. A small lock symbol glows red upon the shield. "Very observant. It is a vow of your Order," Petros explains, even as he begins returning Euphoria's uniform to its regular state. "Optional... in a manner of speaking. If you are without such a vow, you are free to take it at any time. But you are also a slave, and your Master-- your true Master, the Benefactor of your Order, allows for anyone to enforce the vow upon you. For a daily tithe, one that can be extended or retracted at will." His mask shifts to Euphoria, who had been starkly quiet during the revelation. Concluding his efforts to cover her again, Petros addresses her directly. "How long has your current period of chastity been, Sister Euphoria?" "Eight months, fourteen days," she answers immediately. "And how would you describe the burden of chastity?" At that, Euphoria smiles. But its a tight expression. "Enlightening, Master. An enlightening hell." [["That sounds... horrible!"->Nun39Horrible]] [["That sounds... wonderful!"->Nun39Wonderful]]

"Chastity is a test of our faith in the path," Euphoria allows. "One that is harsher than most, given the nature of our service. But one that is particularly popular with our various benefactors to enforce upon full Sisters. Very few of us are without the Vow, these days." Petros collects his hands together, as if reaching a conclusion in his short presentation. "Likewise, few Novitiates are forced to undergo the Vow. (if: $Strike is < 3)[But your performance today, rendering service, was truly inspired Sister Azalea. You have intrigued me.](else:)[But your performance today, rendering service, was rather lackluster Sister Azalea. You could do with further motivation in your studies.] As such, I would like to tithe in the name of Sister Azalea so that she may be put under the Vow of Chastity." Euphoria shifts in her bondage. "Master, such a Vow upon a Novitiate is very irregular. Not to mention harsh, I--" "Are you telling me no, Sister Euphoria?" Your elder Sister shakes her head. "Of course not, Master. I am merely presenting the Novitiate's case. She is young and ill-trained, such a Vow would be harsh indeed." "Regardless," Petros replies, "it is my will. Turn around both of you so that I may undo your bindings, then you will muzzle yourselves." [[You turn. "I accept your will, Master."->Nun40Accept]] [[You turn. "Please Master, I'm not sure I'm ready for such a vow..."->Nun40Refuse]] [[You turn. "Thank you, Master! As a slut, chastity will do be so much good!"->Nun40Extra]]

"Your enthusiasm is misplaced, Sister. Chastity is a test of our faith in the path," Euphoria allows. "One that is harsher than most, given the nature of our service. But one that is particularly popular with our various benefactors to enforce upon full Sisters. Very few of us are without the Vow, these days." Petros collects his hands together, as if reaching a conclusion in his short presentation. "Likewise, few Novitiates are forced to undergo the Vow. (if: $Strike is < 3)[But your performance today, rendering service, was truly inspired Sister Azalea. You have intrigued me.](else:)[But your performance today, rendering service, was rather lackluster Sister Azalea. You could do with further motivation in your studies.] As such, I would like to tithe in the name of Sister Azalea so that she may be put under the Vow of Chastity." Euphoria shifts in her bondage. "Master, such a Vow upon a Novitiate is very irregular. Not to mention harsh, I--" "Are you telling me no, Sister Euphoria?" Your elder Sister shakes her head. "Of course not, Master. I am merely presenting the Novitiate's case. She is young and ill-trained, such a Vow would be harsh indeed." "Regardless," Petros replies, "it is my will. Turn around both of you so that I may undo your bindings, then you will muzzle yourselves." [[You turn. "I accept your will, Master."->Nun40Accept]] [[You turn. "Please Master, I'm not sure I'm ready for such a vow..."->Nun40Refuse]] [[You turn. "Thank you, Master! As a slut, chastity will do be so much good!"->Nun40Extra]]

"You do not have a choice in the matter," Petros notes with a certain sense of pride. "But your willingness will make it easier. Of course, your opinion may change after a few days. Or weeks. Chastity teaches restraint, and it is a cruel instructor at times. It will do you good, all women should experience it-- perhaps then offworlders would not be as bothersome as they are." Several clicks allow your hobble to be pulled free, and his hands upon your wrists allow them to separate-- although of course the cuffs themselves are part of your raiment, and remain as they are. Still it is far greater liberty than you had been given since meeting Petros, and Euphoria is soon granted the same. (if: $Inv contains "Petros' hobble")[(set: $Inv to $Inv - (a: "Petros' hobble"))] (colour: green)[Petros' Hobble removed, Wrist Raiment disconnected!] Producing a small data chit, Petros pushes it into his *glass* device. The small chit is visible within the slot, and glows as he uploads a quick set of instructions before ejecting it. Afterward he hands it to Euphoria, just as she completes adjusting your muzzle. Pulled up once again, only your eyes are free of laminate now. "Sister Azalea's pledge," Euphoria concludes, tucking the chit away safely. "How long?" "Daily renewal," the man supplies. "Until I decide otherwise. I leave her rear entrance optioned, though. Training an offworlder in anal is important, after all." Their nonchalant discussion of your most basic of rights and access ends with a dismissive gesture from Petros. "Now-- I expect her in a wardrobe to be fitted with her belt by the end of the day. Otherwise? You will leave me. Our business is concluded." Euphoria does not linger, but nods, then performs a departing reverence. [[Of course, you join her in performing the same.->Nun41]]

"You do not have a choice in the matter," Petros notes with a certain sense of pride. "You *will* be made chaste. This is my will, and you are but a slave, Sister. Chastity teaches restraint, and it is a cruel instructor at times. But it will do you good, all women should experience it-- perhaps then offworlders would not be as bothersome as they are." Several clicks allow your hobble to be pulled free, and his hands upon your wrists allow them to separate-- although of course the cuffs themselves are part of your raiment, and remain as they are. Still it is far greater liberty than you had been given since meeting Petros, and Euphoria is soon granted the same. (if: $Inv contains "Petros' hobble")[(set: $Inv to $Inv - (a: "Petros' hobble"))] (colour: green)[Petros' Hobble removed, Wrist Raiment disconnected!] Producing a small data chit, Petros pushes it into his *glass* device. The small chit is visible within the slot, and glows as he uploads a quick set of instructions before ejecting it. Afterward he hands it to Euphoria, just as she completes adjusting your muzzle. Pulled up once again, only your eyes are free of laminate now. "Sister Azalea's pledge," Euphoria concludes, tucking the chit away safely. "How long?" "Daily renewal," the man supplies. "Until I decide otherwise. I leave her rear entrance optioned, though. Training an offworlder in anal is important, after all." Their nonchalant discussion of your most basic of rights and access ends with a dismissive gesture from Petros. "Now-- I expect her in a wardrobe to be fitted with her belt by the end of the day. Otherwise? You will leave me. Our business is concluded." Euphoria does not linger, but nods, then performs a departing reverence. [[Of course, you join her in performing the same.->Nun41]]

"You do not have a choice in the matter," Petros notes with a certain sense of pride. "Yet your enthusiasm pleases. And there is truth in your words. Chastity teaches restraint, and it is a cruel instructor at times. But it will do you good, all women should experience it-- perhaps then offworlders would not be as bothersome as they are." Several clicks allow your hobble to be pulled free, and his hands upon your wrists allow them to separate-- although of course the cuffs themselves are part of your raiment, and remain as they are. Still it is far greater liberty than you had been given since meeting Petros, and Euphoria is soon granted the same. (if: $Inv contains "Petros' hobble")[(set: $Inv to $Inv - (a: "Petros' hobble"))] (colour: green)[Petros' Hobble removed, Wrist Raiment disconnected!] Producing a small data chit, Petros pushes it into his *glass* device. The small chit is visible within the slot, and glows as he uploads a quick set of instructions before ejecting it. Afterward he hands it to Euphoria, just as she completes adjusting your muzzle. Pulled up once again, only your eyes are free of laminate now. "Sister Azalea's pledge," Euphoria concludes, tucking the chit away safely. "How long?" "Daily renewal," the man supplies. "Until I decide otherwise. I leave her rear entrance optioned, though. Training an offworlder in anal is important, after all." Their nonchalant discussion of your most basic of rights and access ends with a dismissive gesture from Petros. "Now-- I expect her in a wardrobe to be fitted with her belt by the end of the day. Otherwise? You will leave me. Our business is concluded." Euphoria does not linger, but nods, then performs a departing reverence. [[Of course, you join her in performing the same.->Nun41]]

Master Petros is left in your wake as you follow Euphoria, the man already turning to his drink and the stage. Your passing causes a bit of a commotion with anyone nearby however, your uniforms and Euphoria's mere proportions standing out even in the cacophony of color and laminate design that is your fellow club-goers. Nevertheless, instead of making for a table or booth, your Sister leads you to a quiet corner outside the normal walking paths. "As unaccompanied slaves, we are not allowed a table of our own," she explains. "And I thought you might have questions. About what happened, or... your upcoming vow." [["How did I do, with the Master?"->AskPetro]] [["Do I... really need to be put into chastity?"->NunRChaste]] [["So you're belted? How... is it?"->NunHowChaste]] [["Are many Novitiates made chaste?"->NunNovChaste]] [["How will I be... belted?"->NunBelted]] [["I just want to know what we're going to do next, Sister."->NunContinue]]

"(if: $Strike is < 0)[As the Master said, Sister, you did exceptionally well. Especially for one so inexperienced. You will be provided with much in the way of training, eventually, but I suspect you will take to such lessons readily.](if: $Strike is 0 or 1 or 2)[As the Master said, Sister, you did very well. Not flawlessly, but still quite good for one so inexperienced. You will be provided with much in the way of training, eventually, but I suspect you will take to such lessons readily.](if: $Strike is 3 or 4 or 5 or 6)[As the Master said, Sister, there was room for improvement. I do not hold this against you, however, as you are a Novitiate-- and one so very new to her collar. Do not worry, you will be provided with much in the way of training, eventually. We will not allow you be incapable at such things.](if: $Strike is > 6)[As the Master said, Sister, there was much room for improvement in your service. I was concerned at points you would anger the Master, he is ill-disposed towards offworlders. But your uniform certainly served to calm him. Do not worry, you will be provided with much in the way of training, eventually. We will not allow you be incapable at such things.]" She looks to you with almost motherly intent, then adjusts the fall of your habit slightly. "As you are to be made chaste, your proficiency at oral worship will be of special importance. Without our other holes, we must provide service with tongue and mouth more often." [["Do I... really need to be put into chastity?"->NunRChaste]] [["So you're belted? How... is it?"->NunHowChaste]] [["Are many Novitiates made chaste?"->NunNovChaste]] [["How will I be... belted?"->NunBelted]] [["I understand, Sister. So what are we to do next?"->NunContinue]]

"Yes." Euphoria's response is immediate, even if her tone is mixed with reservation and something else... intrigue, perhaps? "Now that Master Petros has made his intentions known to us, it would be a great aberration of our path to deny him his desires. We would be reported, and punished as would be appropriate." Her gloved hand finds your shoulder. "Take heart, Sister. Your path has been made harder, but walk it yet you shall." [["How did I do, with the Master?"->AskPetro]] [["So you're belted? How... is it?"->NunHowChaste]] [["Are many Novitiates made chaste?"->NunNovChaste]] [["How will I be... belted?"->NunBelted]] [["I understand, Sister. So what are we to do next?"->NunContinue]]

"My lips mark me as a sinner, but not a liar. I shall be true with you, Sister: it is a daily struggle. Our Order is dedicated to the perception of pleasure. To be denied the most immediate form is a burden we come to terms with, but never grow comfortable towards. Few Sisters choose the Vow of Chastity voluntarily, fewer still ever come to peace with it." She collects your hands together, the white of the laminate that covered your forearms framing your chest. "You will be taught to compensate as best you can, with stimulation of your rear, nipples, and oral play." [["How did I do, with the Master?"->AskPetro]] [["Do I... really need to be put into chastity?"->NunRChaste]] [["Are many Novitiates made chaste?"->NunNovChaste]] [["How will I be... belted?"->NunBelted]] [["I understand, Sister. So what are we to do next?"->NunContinue]]

"It is rare, as I indicated to the Master. At our Convent, you will be the only one at this time under such strictures. Our morning oblations involve enforced pleasure, as you underwent prior to your taking the Vows. This will continue, but we will utilize other means of stimulation upon you-- just as I, and the other Elder Sisters vowed to Chastity undergo." [["How did I do, with the Master?"->AskPetro]] [["Do I... really need to be put into chastity?"->NunRChaste]] [["So you're belted? How... is it?"->NunHowChaste]] [["How will I be... belted?"->NunBelted]] [["I understand, Sister. So what are we to do next?"->NunContinue]]

"We will build you a properly hand-tooled belt eventually, but the Master clearly wanted you geared up quickly. Thus the chit he gave me, which contains prepayment for a Wardrobe Device to do the work. Such devices are usually expensive, given the rarity and expense of steel, but the good Master can certainly afford such things. I know that I have spoken of the difficulty that comes with chastity, but we should both remember the great honor it is to bear such a burden. There are few greater than a man taking an interest in your purity of action, after all, Sister." [["How did I do, with the Master?"->AskPetro]] [["Do I... really need to be put into chastity?"->NunRChaste]] [["So you're belted? How... is it?"->NunHowChaste]] [["I understand, Sister. So what are we to do next?"->NunContinue]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/OWJQvyB.png" width="40%" height="40%"> Euphoria glances about Club Lush, taking in the chaotic frenzy of light, laminate, sound and sex that surrounded you both. Her keen red eyes miss little, and when they bear back down on you from beneath her habit a conviction burns there that sizzles with resolve. Her gloved hand falls upon your shoulder, the long sleeve of her robe draped over your own dark laminate. "Our path remains the same, Sister: we must break the bond you have with the AI, and their Daemon. You must prepare yourself to reject whatever it is that has drawn the eye of such an imposing presence to you. To do that, we will strike three slaves with one proverbial whip by speaking to the bartender." She tips her head in the direction of the bar, a transparent edifice backed by light and packed with clubgoers. The man in question slinging drinks is rather nondescript, except for his presence of course. Men rarely worked such menial jobs on Torei. "He is the owner," Euphoria explains. "Perhaps he will have heard from your contact, whomever it may be. Even if he has not, I suspect we will need to search the VIP area-- the balcony overlooking this floor. As slaves we are not allowed in such areas normally unleashed, but the owner is known to our Order. And I am certain he has access to a Wardrobe here, which we can use to get you belted." Her hands come together, head tipping in a quick prayer. "We may be creatures of sin, Sister, but if we stay to our path we will overcome all before us. Come." [[The sharp snap of her heels and a flourish of her cloak mark a turn towards the bar.->NunBar]]

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-- and he twice skips over what would have been a reasonable opportunity to address you. "It is proper that he handle freewombs and men before lowly slaves such as us," Euphoria notes, with all the patience in the world. So you wait together, ignoring the occasional stare from those who approach the bar to order drinks. A break eventually comes in the traffic, and with it Club Lush's owner approaches. "Sister," he greets, with more respect than a slave would perhaps otherwise earn. "My people at the door told me of your arrival, although I understand you are not here on your usual business?" Euphoria once again performs an elaborate reverence, which you copy, presenting yourself to the man in the proper Torean fashion. Only then does she respond. "No, Master. Unfortunately we are not here to serve your patrons, despite the peace we would undoubtedly find upon our knees. We are here on Convent business. Sister, please give the Master your identification card. We are hoping there is someone here waiting for her?" [[Hand over your card.->NunBar2]]

The ID card the Sisters had returned to you upon conversion is far different then the one you woke with. Your name is listed as Sister Azalea, and it lacks a picture-- an allowance given to certain religious orders only. Most prominently, of course, are the bold letters emblazoned along the top: **SLAVE**. Nevertheless your ID number remains, and with a simple swipe at a terminal nearby the bartender pulls up the relevant information. "Ah, yes... 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 that I cannot contact them about your arrival." He returns the card, then clasps his hands together ruefully. "You understand that I cannot have slaves wandering such an important area..." "...but there is some matter that our Order could assist with, tonight?" Euphoria supplies, the smile beneath her muzzle just evident. "We of course are most ready to do so, are we not Sister Azalea?" [["As slaves, we are meant to serve, Master."->NunServeY]] [["It would be our pleasure."->NunServeY2]] [["I suppose."->NunServeN]]

The bartender looks to you, then clicks his tongue. "Even your novices talk like that, huh? Such discipline from a group without a proper Master watching your every action always amazed me. Such discipline, and submission. Which is exactly what I need." He turns his attention back to Euphoria. "I'll give you a key to take the back way up to the VIP area, so my guests do not see you. But along the way I would ask you to attend to a slave of mine you will find back there. One of the serving girls, her name is Akrai... and she is in dire need of discipline. Just last night I caught her attempting to escape, and she has been undergoing punishment since. But she is stubborn, Sisters. Perhaps you can provide the guidance she needs?" "We can certainly speak to the woman," Euphoria acknowledges. "May we ask one more boon, Master? To use your Wardrobe device, at our own expense of course. So that I may adjust my Sister's uniform." The bartender slides a key across the counter. "Sure. Use the door beside the stage to reach the backroom, you'll find everything you need back there." Several patrons step up to the bar in that moment, and he turns towards them. Its a rather blunt dismissal, without even much in the way of acknowledgement, but Euphoria takes it-- and the key-- in hand. "Shall we, Sister?" [["Yes.-"->NunBack]] [["Lead the way, Sister."->NunBack]]

The bartender looks to you, then clicks his tongue. "I'm sure it will be, knowing the punishment you Sisters undergo so regularly. Such discipline from a group without a proper Master watching your every action always amazed me. Such discipline, and submission. Which is exactly what I need." He turns his attention back to Euphoria. "I'll give you a key to take the back way up to the VIP area, so my guests do not see you. But along the way I would ask you to attend to a slave of mine you will find back there. One of the serving girls, her name is Akrai... and she is in dire need of discipline. Just last night I caught her attempting to escape, and she has been undergoing punishment since. But she is stubborn, Sisters. Perhaps you can provide the guidance she needs?" "We can certainly speak to the woman," Euphoria acknowledges. "May we ask one more boon, Master? To use your Wardrobe device, at our own expense of course. So that I may adjust my Sister's uniform." The bartender slides a key across the counter. "Sure. Use the door beside the stage to reach the backroom, you'll find everything you need back there." Several patrons step up to the bar in that moment, and he turns towards them. Its a rather blunt dismissal, without even much in the way of acknowledgement, but Euphoria takes it-- and the key-- in hand. "Shall we, Sister?" [["Yes.-"->NunBack]] [["Lead the way, Sister."->NunBack]]

"Sister," Euphoria admonishes, with a sharp slap of your rear. Her hand is forceful, and the pain immediate. "You *will* remember your place, as a woman and member of our Order." The bartender looks to you, then clicks his tongue. "Such discipline from a group without a proper Master watching your every action always amazed me. Such discipline, and submission. Which is exactly what I need." He turns his attention back to Euphoria. "I'll give you a key to take the back way up to the VIP area, so my guests do not see you. But along the way I would ask you to attend to a slave of mine you will find back there. One of the serving girls, her name is Akrai... and she is in dire need of discipline. Just last night I caught her attempting to escape, and she has been undergoing punishment since. But she is stubborn, Sisters. Perhaps you can provide the guidance she needs?" "We can certainly speak to the woman," Euphoria acknowledges. "May we ask one more boon, Master? To use your Wardrobe device, at our own expense of course. So that I may adjust my Sister's uniform." The bartender slides a key across the counter. "Sure. Use the door beside the stage to reach the backroom, you'll find everything you need back there." Several patrons step up to the bar in that moment, and he turns towards them. Its a rather blunt dismissal, without even much in the way of acknowledgement, but Euphoria takes it-- and the key-- in hand. "Shall we, Sister?" [["Yes.-"->NunBack]] [["Lead the way, Sister."->NunBack]]

Once more Sister Euphoria leads the way, and one more you follow submissively behind. Making across the floor and towards the stage, she then shifts to the side, towards a narrow corridor at the end of which a door looms. *Employees Only* is marked prominently. Pushing through without hesitation, she waits for you to follow, then closes it behind you. As the cacophony of the Club lessens, deafened somewhat by the door, you glance about. You're greeted with a small antechamber, a glass display of Club Lush's layout the only real decoration. Having been divided into a number of quadrants, you find 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". "A well ordered establishment and schedule helps a slave submit, and furthers their own perception of that path before them," your elder Sister observes, before turning to you. Into your hand she pushes the data chit Petros had given her. "You will find the Wardrobe Device that is back here," she commands, "and you will get yourself belted. The machine will prompt for a custom ROM, that is what you hold in your hand. It should be fairly straightforward from there. I will see to Akrai, but will wait for you to complete your task before we address that one together. It will be a good lesson for you, Sister." Stepping back, she crosses the small room in one stride, her hand finding the handle of the door opposite. "Try not to wander too much." (set: $Belted to false)(set: $Escape to false)(set: $EscapeFound to false)(set: $AkChoice to 0) [[She presses onward, and after a deep breath you clasp the chit and follow her.->NunBack2]]

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. The one directly before you is ajar, presumably where Euphoria had gone. [[Enter the door to your left, labeled STORAGE.->NBRStorage]] [[Enter the door directly before you, labeled SLAVE QUARTERS.->NBRSlaves]] [[Enter the door to your right, labeled VIP STAIRCASE.->NBRVIP]]

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.->NunBack2]] [[Check along the bottom shelves.->NBRStorageB]] [[Check along the upper shelves.->NBRStorageU]] [[Examine the posters rolled up in the corner.->NBRStorageP]]

You enter into what you quickly recognize must serve as a staging room of sorts, for 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 purpose, as demonstrated by the bottles of *Laminate Shine* you find on nearby tables. More labeled doors await you. 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.->NBRWardrobe]] [[Take the door directly before you, labeled SLAVE LOUNGE.->NBRLounge]] [[Take the door to your right, labeled CELLS.->NBRCells]] [[Take the door behind you, labeled ENTRANCE.->NunBack2]]

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 as the bartender had mentioned. 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. Euphoria had been given the key that would provide access, and she retained it still. You should be moving on anyway. [[Turn back, the way you came.->NunBack2]]

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: $Escape is true)[ *This must have been how the slave Akrai attempted to escape the Club, only to be found and sentenced to her current fate. Just what this door was intended for, or how Akrai had intended to open it with a mere knife isn't exactly clear, but you pick up the weapon as proof of your discovery. Perhaps Sister Euphoria will have further insight.* (set: $EscapeFound to true)] [[Step back.->NBRStorage]]

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. (if: $Belted is false)[[[Approach the Wardrobe Device.->NBRWardrobe2]]](else:)[Already locked into chastity, you have no more use for the Wardrobe.] [[Examine the cases.->NBRCases]] [[Return to the previous room.->NBRSlaves]]

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.->NBRSlaves]] [[Check out the firepit on the overlook.->NBRLoungeFire]] [[Check out the kitchen area.->NBRLoungeKitchen]] [[Check out the area near the vid-screens.->NBRLoungeScreens]]

Stepping up to the machine's control *glass*, you're immediately met with a a prompt demanding a "Slave or Management Keycard" for authorization purposes. Before you can even begin reading the fine print below, however, the screen flashes with an override warning and the device itself unlocks for you-- clearly the Club's owner had sent ahead his credentials. 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. You may have harbored a desire to explore them at length, but a vow of poverty prevented you from purchasing any of them-- besides that which the data chit you hold would allow of course. Finding the slot into which to slide it is easy enough, and after a moment to load the screen changes yet again. Stark text greets you: =><= ***Slave Protocols Activated.*** *Selected: Slave-Rated Long Term Chastity Belt (Steel)* *Options Selected: Removable Anal Shield, Custom Fitting, Digital Keyed* (text-style: "blink")[SUBMIT TO SELECTION?] <== The blinking text flashes in your mind, the promise of enforced chastity a mere button press away. To your shame, the mere idea thrills you in a way you did not think possible. Had you truly fallen to Torei's siren song so far as to revel in this fate? You're already collared, restraints locked onto your wrists and ankles permanently. A slave. Which meant you had little in the way of choice, but Euphoria had allowed you some here-- she could have easily overseen the installation. Is she testing you? [[Submit, with a smile on your lips.->NBRWard3]] [[Submit, with a bit of a frown.->NBRWard3]] [[Step away for now, you must think on this!->NBRWardrobe]]

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 outfit, 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.->NBRCase2]] [[Step back from the cases.->NBRWardrobe]]

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.->NBRCase3]] [[Step back from the cases.->NBRWardrobe]]

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.->NBRCase5]] [[Step back from the cases.->NBRWardrobe]]

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. Whatever you were so intent on searching for isn't here, at least. [[Step back from the cases.->NBRWardrobe]]

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. Your designated installation package requires secondary confirmation. Customized confirmation text follows: *By entering this Wardrobe, Slave Sister Azalea of the Order of the Primrose, you are submitting to the Vow of Chastity. As recognized by your Order, this vow will remain in force until your designated benefactor decided to remove it. This right has no expiration date and can be conveyed to next of kin via lawful will.* *Do you submit to the Vow of Chastity, and recognized that access to your own womanhood shall no longer be allowed to you? That you are incapable of restraint and are in need of a belt to retain your own dignity? That you are a woman, weak by nature, and in need of this guidance?* With the door shut behind you, there is truly no turning back now. [[Press the confirmation button.->NBRWard4]]

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.->NBRUpMag]] [[Check out whatever is glinting over there, on the footstool.->NBRUpCuffs]] [[Observe the rest of the room from your higher vantage.->NBRUpUp]] [[That's enough up here, head back downstairs.->NBRLounge]]

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-- you have much greater concerns elsewhere. Otherwise the area is relatively unremarkable. [[Step back.->NBRLounge]]

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. Instead you're met with the simple truth that many slaves on Torei lived in relative luxury. Were it not the lingering sense of pervasive slavery, this room could have been a nice penthouse on any other planet. [[Step back.->NBRLoungeFire]]

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.->NBRTVNews]] [[Check out a sports channel.->NBRTVSports]] [[Check out one of the "Antipodal Longwave" channels.->NBRTVLongwave]] [[Check out the channel labeled as "The Way Up Status".->NBRTVWU]] [[Stop watching TV.->NBRLounge]]

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.->NBRTVSports]] [[Check out one of the "Antipodal Longwave" channels.->NBRTVLongwave]] [[Check out the channel labeled as "The Way Up Status".->NBRTVWU]] [[Stop watching TV.->NBRLounge]]

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 finish line, 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.->NBRTVNews]] [[Check out one of the "Antipodal Longwave" channels.->NBRTVLongwave]] [[Check out the channel labeled as "The Way Up Status".->NBRTVWU]] [[Stop watching TV.->NBRLounge]]

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.->NBRTVNews]] [[Check out a sports channel.->NBRTVSports]] [[Check out the channel labeled as "The Way Up Status".->NBRTVWU]] [[Stop watching TV.->NBRLounge]]

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. You can still see the listing for the midnight ascent to which you had held a ticket, but with the benefit of experience you search around for the expected, and find it near the bottom. A disclaimer, noting access to the International Zone and the Way Up was strictly prohibited to indentured servants and the enslaved. Your collar, pulled tight around your throat, is all the more evident in that moment. [[Check out a news channel.->NBRTVNews]] [[Check out a sports channel.->NBRTVSports]] [[Check out one of the "Antipodal Longwave" channels.->NBRTVLongwave]] [[Stop watching TV.->NBRLounge]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/YzBgwS0.gif" width="50%" height="50%"> 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, Euphoria remains motionless above. Her hands are clasped together in prayer, eyes closed, but one red orb does reveal itself as you move up beside her. "Sister Azalea," she greets calmly, voice rising over the moans of the woman before her. (if: $Escape is false)["Is it not a wonderful sight to see a slave in torturous ecstasy?" [["She is in a most blessed condition, Sister."->NAkraiBlessed]] [["She is struggling and discomforted, Sister."->NAkraiStruggle]]](else-if: $Escape is true and $EscapeFound is false)["You return? Am I to understand you have found some evidence of young Akrai's escape attempt?" [["I have, Sister."->DiscussEscape]]](else:)["Have you embraced chastity yet, Sister? I suspect Akrai would prefer if you hurried, so that we may address her situation." (if: $Belted is true)[[["If you inspect my uniform Sister, you will see that I have."->BeltedTalk]]]] [["Apologies Sister, I must do something else. I will return shortly."->NBRSlaves]]

"Well spoken," Euphoria beams, both eyes opening with a sparkle of approval held within them. "As women, as slaves, is this not what we should aspire towards? To be bound and gagged as our owners demand, to please them with our tribulations, with the path of pleasure and struggle we walk? Perhaps I will submit us both to such a session at the Convent, upon our return?" The taller woman breaks from her praying pose and allows a hand to settle upon the bound slave, her gloved fingers dancing over a full breast. Akrai's struggles intensify as a result. "Ah, but this is a punishment-- and more intensive then the slave is probably aware. Note her laminate, Sister. Do you know whom uses such colors, red and black, generally?" Her smile is evident beneath her muzzle. "And feel free to touch her, if you like. She deserves nothing less." [[Do not touch her. "I'm not familiar with her uniform, Sister."->NNotFam]] [[Fondle her breasts. "I'm not familiar with her uniform, Sister."->NFondle]] [[Press your hand between her legs. "I'm not familiar with her uniform, Sister."->NPress]]

Both eyes open as Euphoria regards you. "She sinned most grievously against her Master, her rightful owner, by attempting her flight. As women, as slaves, is this not what we should aspire towards? To be bound and gagged as our owners demand, to please them with our tribulations, with the path of pleasure and struggle we walk? Perhaps I will submit us both to such a session at the Convent, upon our return." The taller woman breaks from her praying pose and allows a hand to settle upon the bound slave, her gloved fingers dancing over a full breast. Akrai's struggles intensify as a result. "Ah, but this is a punishment-- and more intensive then the slave is probably aware. Note her laminate, Sister. Do you know whom uses such colors, red and black, generally?" Her smile is evident beneath her muzzle. "And feel free to touch her, if you like. She deserves nothing less." [[Do not touch her. "I'm not familiar with her uniform, Sister."->NNotFam]] [[Fondle her breasts. "I'm not familiar with her uniform, Sister."->NFondle]] [[Press your hand between her legs. "I'm not familiar with her uniform, Sister."->NPress]]

"Tell me," Euphoria commands, and you do. You speak of the door you found in the storage area, its use unknown, but with clear attempts having been made at opening it. When she prompts you for evidence you produce the knife, its dulled tip still marred with bits of shaved metal from its failed attempt at disengaging the door. Your elder Sister concludes with a nod, instructing you to put down the knife nearby before she continues. "A simple enough story, then. Very good. Anything more elaborate would have indicated a distinct lack of care given to the keeping of this establishment's slaves. There are but two entrances to these backrooms: the one through which we walked, and the staircase that leads upstairs. With both locked often enough, Akrai chose the only other route for her attempted escape: the door you found." The bound slave before you continues to writhe in her bonds and punishment, but Euphoria gives little heed. She was instructing you, and there must always be time enough for that. "Did you know this Ringdom, Aekora, has a small aquifer? Not much by offworlder standards, of course, but given the wealth liquid water represents on Torei it is considerable nevertheless. And it is fed by a series of underground tubes, old lava channels the AIs carved out while they still held dominion over this world in its entirety. That is where the door you found leads, I would think. Just as many other buildings around here have similar access." She tips her head slightly to the side, her habit sliding across sloped shoulders. "Smuggling, storage, or just betting that perhaps one day the AIs will return waterflow to most of the system. Whatever the case may be, if the slave before us reached those tunnels... she could have gotten at least outside Grand Aekora proper before anyone notice. How very clever." Euphoria looks to Akrai, but then turns her red-eyed gaze to you. "Tell me, Sister: how common do you think runaway slaves are?" [["Very common, Sister?"->NunCommon]] [["Somewhat common, Sister?"->NunSomewhat]] [["Not common at all, Sister?"->NunNotCom]]

Sister Euphoria turns, her long cloak flaring as her hands fall upon your shoulders. "Truly? Hands behind your back, legs spread." You comply almost without conscious thought, such submission coming to easily to you. Euphoria responds immediately by stepping closer, surprisingly close, her gleaming laminate pressing against yours as curvaceous forms entwine. She hooks one leg around your own, spreading you further, while a hand lifts your chin. The maneuver allows your eyes to meet more readily, her red gaze as always a bit unnerving in its unnatural nature, but it is below where your true concern quickly settles. Her other hand had fallen to your hips, then slid down to the meeting of your legs. There she slides beneath the laminate of your panties, the tight cling not enough to prevent her access. Your freshly installed chastity, however, is another story entirely. Steel does not budge, nor give way, and in that moment you sense something beyond the serene intensity that marked your elder Sister. *Pity.* "You have joined an altogether different Sisterhood now," she remarks, then presses her own hips forward. The tight straps running between her legs strain, just audible enough to hear, as she brings her own womanhood up against yours. Steel to steel, both rendered chaste. Towering above you, Euphoria's veiled head eclipses the pale light above, drowning you in shadow as pulls down her muzzle to reveal her marked lips. Such intimacy marks her question more than anything outwardly sensual could have. "Know that I pray for you, young Azalea. Not for you in the now, your first quiet hours in such a state. But for my Sister three months from now, eternally frustrated. For the begging you will undertake in half a year, willing to do anything for release, yet *still* incapable of achieving it. Chastity is a cruelty, Sister. But a burden you need not bear alone. As Sisters, as women, as slaves-- we share your pain." [[Look down, and nod.->Belted2]] [["T-Thank you, Sister."->Belted2]]

The Wardrobe, as always, wastes little time. As you're already fitted with cuffs at neck, wrists, and ankles the Wardrobe abandons its usual gripping arms and instead uses simple hooks to lock into the hardpoints mounted on your restraints. From such mounts it is trivial to spread your legs and raise your arms above your head in preparation. The familiar ring-shaped central apparatus then descends, smaller devices grasping at your corset and the laminate panties you wore upon your catsuit. Both are removed, freeing the way for the belt that is produced from one of the oddly shaped storage sections along the side wall. Its such a simple thing to mean so much, but that fact that it emerges pre-formed speaks to the rarity of such devices on Torei. Steel was a rare resource, all but monopolized for use in restraints until certain Ringdoms had started building towers around the space elevator. Sisters of the Order may be subjected to all the difficulties of poverty, but the network of donators and benefactors ensured *anything* was available if someone took enough of an interest. Sliding the belt up between your waiting legs, it is remarkably cool to the touch as the band begins to tighten around the narrowest portion of your waist. The catsuit base of your uniform remained however, and it quickly warms the newly added metal and laminate as the Wardrobe's armatures spring forth. The U-shaped bottom portion is positioned next, the shield across your womanhood leading down between your legs, where a secondary (and removable) portion covered your rear entrance. From there it rose again, linking with the band at at your back. Inch by inch it is cinched closed, growing tighter with every adjustment, until the belt itself firmly embraces you. Only then do the arms retract, a singular one remaining to press against your shield, delivering a command. With a sharp *click* the chastity is locked, and a glowing LED ignites just above your sealed womanhood. The small symbol, a red colored lock, makes your predicament clear for anyone who could observe. (if: not ($Inv contains "vow of chastity belt"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "vow of chastity belt"))] (colour: red)[Vow of Chastity Belt added!] <img src="https://i.imgur.com/a4T6L2k.png" width="40%" height="40%"> [[Your cunt already ached with frustrated desire. How long would it be until you're released?->NBRWard5]]

=><= <img src="https://i.imgur.com/a4T6L2k.png" width="50%" height="50%"> Vow of Chastity Belt: *hidden beneath your uniform's corset and panties, your chastity is nevertheless hard to ignore. The belt itself is steel backed with laminate, the band hugging the narrowest portion of your waist while the shield prevents any manner of access to your cunt. An indicator LED is just above the shield itself, glowing red to indicate it remains* **locked**. *Your frustration builds with every moment sealed inside.*

You feel your new belt shift as your hips move, but the Wardrobe continues with its work, unperturbed by your struggle to adapt to the new sensations. Observation of your belt was not intended for most, and thus your corset and panties are thus returned. A dozen different armatures make short work of the work, particularly delicate manipulators in particular lacing you in quickly-- trimming off inches before replacing the locks, ensuring your waist would remain at the proportions desired by the Order. Its all done so quickly, so deftly, you've hardly gotten used to the restraints before the Wardrobe removes them and cycles back down into dormancy. You're done, your new chastity installed, and as your hands come back down to explore the edition you find it all but impossible to even see the belt itself. But its there, just as readily as Sister Euphoria's, denying you access to your own desires. Just how effective could it be, though? [[Try to touch yourself.->NBRWard6No]] [[Exit the Wardrobe.->NBRWard6Exit]]

Reaching down, your gloved fingers slide beneath the thin laminate of your panties. The belt awaits, the steel pulled tightly against your womanhood, the laminate backing all but sealed to your catsuit. Try as you might, and curiosity-- or perhaps simple desire-- pushes you to try for several minutes, you cannot access your most sacred nexus. The belt allows no friction, not even the sweet tease of shifting laminate against your feminine lips. There is only the frustration, which builds, the mere thought of being denied something so simple inducing a quiet ecstasy you cannot escape. And indeed, the incapacity was entirely intentional. Sister Euphoria had mentioned it had been *eight months* since her last period without a belt. Just what would THAT feel like? The lighting up of the Wardrobe's interior screen interrupts any such thoughts, words printing out upon its glass display. *Slave, lingering in a Wardrobe is strictly prohibited. Vacate, or corrective action will be applied.* [[What could a Wardrobe do?->NBRWardZap]] [[Exit now!->NBRWard6Exit]]

Emerging from the wardrobe, you marvel at the sensation of the belt you now bore. Curiosity then drives you further, so that you reach down to press a curious hand between your legs. The belt is there, smooth steel beneath the laminate of your panties. Unyielding. Strict. Utterly domineering. That you no longer controlled access to your own body is noted by the Wardrobe's exterior panel, which lights up once more. *Your digital key has been transmitted to your Master, Mistress, Governess, or assigned figure of authority.* To the Convent then, or perhaps Petros himself. Either way, you will be belted until the Master decided to allow your release. (set: $Belted to true) [[For now, perhaps it is best you seek out Sister Euphoria.->NBRSlaves]]

Much, as the Wardrobe quickly demonstrates. Standing with your back to the door, you observe one of the inner panels opening, an arm emerging. Where others had been grasping hands, or multitools, this one is singular in purpose and intent. The tip of arm is U-shaped, and between those outstretched prongs a sliver of electricity jumps. Pure instinct backs you towards the door, but you've lingered too long, and at full extension it presses into your rear just as you turn. The shock is *immediate*, a strange sensation that quickly devolves into little more than an insistent pain. You help, hands on your rear, and all but leap from the Wardrobe-- back into the room beyond. There, still rubbing your rear, you reach down to press a curious hand between your legs. The belt is there, smooth steel beneath the laminate of your panties. Unyielding. Strict. Utterly domineering. That you no longer controlled access to your own body is noted by the Wardrobe's exterior panel, which lights up once more. *Your digital key has been transmitted to your Master, Mistress, Governess, or assigned figure of authority.* To the Convent then, or perhaps Petros himself. Either way, you will be belted until the Master decided to allow your release. (set: $Belted to true) [[For now, perhaps it is best you seek out Sister Euphoria.->NBRSlaves]]

Your abstaining from touch is noted by Euphoria, but she allows you the indulgence-- and furthers her own ministrations as a result. The fingers that had been exploring the rounded expanse of Akrai's breasts tighten together at her nipple, tweaking the sensitive bud by the piercings evident through her laminate. The slave writhes in frustrated impotence, while beneath her muzzle Euphoria only seems to smile wider. "This uniform is what patients of the Ministry of Improvements are issued," she informs you matter-of-factly, ignoring the gagged protestations coming from the bound figure. "It would seem the Master of this establishment intends to rectify his recalcitrant slave's behavior via *improvement.*" Her hand withdraws from Akrai's chest so that it can collect together with the other before her corseted waist. "A full tracking chip is obvious, given her attempted flight. But one can imagine the good Master will go further, perhaps a full Rainbow implant suite? They are a remarkable bit of invention, Sister. Imagine a set of subdermal implants that can be activated remotely, perhaps if one wanders too far from her home, and that can deliver unimaginable pain-- or pleasure without a hand upon the slave, or a wand between her legs. Often they're used to enforce orgasm denial." Such a fate clearly distress Akrai, but her restraints hold, and Euphoria ignores her entirely. Instead she turns more fully to regard you. "As you may recall, the Master asked us for our advice with regards to this slave. To make any judgement, however, we must fully understand her motivations, her intentions. For that we must know how she attempted to escape, and how close she came to succeeding. Sister, I would like you to seek out this information-- I suspect it can be found somewhere within these backrooms. Return to me with whatever evidence you find, and of course your belt installed. Then we can determine her fate." (set: $Escape to true) [["I will do as you command, Sister."->EscapeEnd]]

Reaching down, you join Euphoria in an exploration of the bound slave's breasts. The smooth laminate of her uniform glides effortlessly against the material of your gloves, guiding your fingers together where they meet at her nipple. There you find a piercing standing out against the laminate which you seize, tweaking gently. The slave writhes in frustrated impotence, while beneath her muzzle Euphoria only seems to smile wider. "This uniform is what patients of the Ministry of Improvements are issued," she informs you matter-of-factly, ignoring the gagged protestations coming from the bound figure. "It would seem the Master of this establishment intends to rectify his recalcitrant slave's behavior via *improvement.*" Her hand withdraws from Akrai's chest so that it can collect together with the other before her corseted waist. "A full tracking chip is obvious, given her attempted flight. But one can imagine the good Master will go further, perhaps a full Rainbow implant suite? They are a remarkable bit of invention, Sister. Imagine a set of subdermal implants that can be activated remotely, perhaps if one wanders too far from her home, and that can deliver unimaginable pain-- or pleasure without a hand upon the slave, or a wand between her legs. Often they're used to enforce orgasm denial." Such a fate clearly distress Akrai, but her restraints hold, and Euphoria ignores her entirely. Instead she turns more fully to regard you. "As you may recall, the Master asked us for our advice with regards to this slave. To make any judgement, however, we must fully understand her motivations, her intentions. For that we must know how she attempted to escape, and how close she came to succeeding. Sister, I would like you to seek out this information-- I suspect it can be found somewhere within these backrooms. Return to me with whatever evidence you find, and of course your belt installed. Then we can determine her fate." (set: $Escape to true) [["I will do as you command, Sister."->EscapeEnd]]

Reaching down, you land upon her thighs then move inward, down the curved slope towards their meeting. The smooth laminate of her uniform glides effortlessly against the material of your gloves, guiding your fingers to the sealed zipper that concealed her cunt. There you can feel the hum of heavy vibrators operating underneath, thick laminate cocks hilted securely within. A bit of pressure applied with the heel of your palm sends the slave writhing in frustrated impotence, while beneath her muzzle Euphoria only seems to smile wider. "This uniform is what patients of the Ministry of Improvements are issued," she informs you matter-of-factly, ignoring the gagged protestations coming from the bound figure. "It would seem the Master of this establishment intends to rectify his recalcitrant slave's behavior via *improvement.*" Her hand withdraws from Akrai's chest so that it can collect together with the other before her corseted waist. "A full tracking chip is obvious, given her attempted flight. But one can imagine the good Master will go further, perhaps a full Rainbow implant suite? They are a remarkable bit of invention, Sister. Imagine a set of subdermal implants that can be activated remotely, perhaps if one wanders too far from her home, and that can deliver unimaginable pain-- or pleasure without a hand upon the slave, or a wand between her legs. Often they're used to enforce orgasm denial." Such a fate clearly distress Akrai, but her restraints hold, and Euphoria ignores her entirely. Instead she turns more fully to regard you. "As you may recall, the Master asked us for our advice with regards to this slave. To make any judgement, however, we must fully understand her motivations, her intentions. For that we must know how she attempted to escape, and how close she came to succeeding. Sister, I would like you to seek out this information-- I suspect it can be found somewhere within these backrooms. Return to me with whatever evidence you find, and of course your belt installed. Then we can determine her fate." (set: $Escape to true) [["I will do as you command, Sister."->EscapeEnd]]

As you step away from your Sister, Euphoria retakes her position of silent prayer. Hands steepled together before her, eyes closed, the shadow produced by her habit seems to grow longer as you move away. Its not hard to imagine her doing much the same in the total darkness of the Convent, a petitioner much like yourself locked into restraints under her watchful gaze. [[You are soon amongst the slave cages once more.->NBRCells]]

To turn in your token you would need to find an attendant, but finding one is rather easy in their shiny uniforms. This one is particular looks up from her lam-board, the sheet affixed to it forgotten as her eyes focus on you. "Yes, ma'am?" When you produce the token she takes it readily, flipping it over to examine the words on the backside. Then she nods, and pockets it. "How very interesting, ma'am! But we are of course always willing to accommodate friends of the Order. And your desire to travel in *their* manner should be commended! Allow me to just grab your gear--" *Gear?* She rummages through a set of briefcases from beneath her nearby desk. "mhm, ah! Standard..." *Well that doesn't sound too bad...* "...full restraint. Please, follow me!" *Just* ***what*** *have you volunteered for?* [[There is only one way to find out. Follow her.->NunLeave2]]

To turn in your token you would need to find an attendant, but finding one is rather easy in their shiny uniforms. This one is particular looks up from her lam-board, the sheet affixed to it forgotten as her eyes focus on you. "Yes, ma'am?" Producing the token is difficult given your binder, but the attendant is keen to help, and eventually comes up with it-- flipping it over to examine the words on the backside. Then she nods, and pockets it. "How very interesting, ma'am! But we are of course always willing to accommodate friends of the Order. And your desire to travel in *their* manner should be commended! Allow me to just grab your gear--" *Gear?* She rummages through a set of briefcases from beneath her nearby desk. "mhm, ah! Standard..." *Well that doesn't sound too bad...* "...full restraint. Please, follow me!" *Just* ***what*** *have you volunteered for?* [[There is only one way to find out. Follow her.->NunLeave2]]

The attendant brings you to a segregated loading position, red marks on the floor spelling out FULL RESTRAINT. There she kneels, placing the briefcase upon the ground as she opens it. (if: $Slave is false)[Several pieces of gear gleam with the promise of wicked intent as she pulls the first forth, and hands it to you. A glossy black ball gag set into a head harness. "Remember to seat the ball behind your teeth, the gag is far more effective that way." Her smile is professional but a bit impatient, as even now she holds your other pieces of gear in her hands. Without much recourse you comply, sliding the ball into place. The attendant does at least help secure it, although the way she cinches the straps is far tighter than you probably would have done yourself.] (if: $Level is < 1)[Kneeling again, the attendant affixes a chain between your legs via a pair of simple cuffs added to your outfit. The length is short, clearly intended to limited just how far you could move with each step.](if: $Level is > 0)["Normally this would be the point where I provide you with a hobble chain," she notes, "but you are already equipped with such gear. I'm certain you're enjoying the experience?" She doesn't wait for an answer.] (if: $Level is > 1)["Of course I see that you are also wearing an armbinder. We do have a wonderful reverse-prayer harness that I would normally apply, but obviously that is not possible at the moment. Such a shame. The Sisters do enjoy that particular means of restraint. It is *quite* painful." [[Mmmmgh...?"->NunLeave3]] [[Mmmmgh!"->NunLeave3]]](else:)["For the next component I will need you to fold your arms up behind you, and note that I *do* apologize for the following discomfort..." [["Mmmmmgh...."->NunLeave3]] [["Mmmmgh!!!"->NunLeave3]]]

(if: $Level is < 2)[Your gagged sounds are ignored as the attendant focuses upon your arms, folding up carefully behind your back. Her touch is firm, and not particularly gentle, as she attaches cuff she links together with a small clip. 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 a collar she provides as well. The result is a position of reverse prayer, an aching pain already rising in your forearms and shoulders.] "One last thing," your attendant smiles. Just what she meant is revealed by a simple piece of laminate, a blindfold she swiftly places across your eyes. It would have been trivial to remove had you not been so thoroughly bound in the proceeding moments, such that you can hardly utter a gagged moan as your vision is reduced to a black void. It is almost as an afterthought that a leash in run from your temporary collar to the lead system proper above, waiting to draw you blindly forward. "My advice?" The attendant whispers, leaning in. "Focus on the leash. You have *quite* the walk ahead of you!" As if on cue 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 breathing heavily through your nose. [[It's going to be a long walk.->NunLeave4]]

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 accumulated gear thus far. You've been on your feet most of the day after all, and given your boots that meant doing so in sharp stiletto 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 effectively denies breathing through the mouth, requiring your nose to perform the heavy labor. You cannot help but struggle somewhat, moaning lewdly into your gag as you shift your shoulders. All that does is wiggle your breasts(if: $Level is > 2)[, 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..."->NunLeave5]] [[Push your chest out.->NunLeave5]] [[Try to pull against the Lead.->NunLeave5]]

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 requiring intense concentration. Somewhere along the way you learn to shift your arms just a bit, preventing the worst of the pain that results from their enforced position, but it's a small mercy in the face of such tribulation. Altogether its a bit hard to believe the Sisters of the Order apparently *enjoyed* this treatment, and underwent it frequently! [[You keep walking.->NunLeave6]]

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 recognize a transport platform much like that which you had departed from-- but this one is much larger, with towering buildings rising up on all sides. Your temporary restraints are removed, returning you the state of (relative) liberty you had enjoyed prior to the Lead. Instead of the casual enthusiasm of the other attendant, however, this one is silent and dedicated to her duties. At least she doesn't comment on the indignity of your situation, or ask why a woman would willing choose full restraint while traveling. Eventually you're directed to step away, towards the Lead platform's exit. 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]]

"No," the taller woman replies. "That some slaves will seek their freedom is an unfortunate reality, given Torean culture, but it is not common. For one thing, we are *quite* skilled at binding slaves. But more importantly, this is where we *belong*, Sister. Every collar has different terms, of course, and few are as strict as ours. Yet as you did, most Torean slaves enter service by their own choice. To be owned by a noble family is to know comfort few otherwise achieve, at the cost of one's own freedom and dignity. A small price, some would say. Others formalize their relationships with a collar upon the more submissive of the pair, a generally gentle fate, but one we in the Order are very supportive of-- the tradition is ancient. Most simply take advantage of the privileges slaves are afforded that freewombs are not. I'm sure you can speak to what it means to be a freewomb, all alone, without protection or guidance..." A hand rises to Euphoria's chest, and the Sister breathes in deeply. She's actually somewhat emotional about such a fate, but retains control, her attention returning to you. "Those who reject our ways are comparatively few. But they exist, as Akrai here demonstrates, and thus new paths open to us. To help her towards ecstasy, we could decide to punish and coerce her... or take a gentler approach." Euphoria collects herself. "First however we must see that you comply with the will of Master Petros, and enter into the solemn vow of chastity. (if: $Belted is true)[By observing your gait as you approached, I would think you have already done so. If you believe yourself ready to proceed, you need only confirm with me now. Or if you wish to walk around a bit more, to come to terms with your predicament, I will allow that as well.](else:)[As I mentioned before, I am quite certain there is a Wardrobe somewhere in these backrooms. Any proper slave holding would have one. You need only find it, and provide the chit I gave you. Return to me when this is done."] (if: $Belted is true)[[["I am ready to proceed, Sister Euphoria."->BeltedTalk]]] [["I will return shortly, Sister."->NBRCells]]

"Close, but incorrect," the taller woman replies. "That some slaves will seek their freedom is an unfortunate reality, given Torean culture, but it is not common. For one thing, we are *quite* skilled at binding slaves. But more importantly, this is where we *belong*, Sister. Every collar has different terms, of course, and few are as strict as ours. Yet as you did, most Torean slaves enter service by their own choice. To be owned by a noble family is to know comfort few otherwise achieve, at the cost of one's own freedom and dignity. A small price, some would say. Others formalize their relationships with a collar upon the more submissive of the pair, a generally gentle fate, but one we in the Order are very supportive of-- the tradition is ancient. Most simply take advantage of the privileges slaves are afforded that freewombs are not. I'm sure you can speak to what it means to be a freewomb, all alone, without protection or guidance..." A hand rises to Euphoria's chest, and the Sister breathes in deeply. She's actually somewhat emotional about such a fate, but retains control, her attention returning to you. "Those who reject our ways are comparatively few. But they exist, as Akrai here demonstrates, and thus new paths open to us. To help her towards ecstasy, we could decide to punish and coerce her... or take a gentler approach." Euphoria collects herself. "First however we must see that you comply with the will of Master Petros, and enter into the solemn vow of chastity. (if: $Belted is true)[By observing your gait as you approached, I would think you have already done so. If you believe yourself ready to proceed, you need only confirm with me now. Or if you wish to walk around a bit more, to come to terms with your predicament, I will allow that as well.](else:)[As I mentioned before, I am quite certain there is a Wardrobe somewhere in these backrooms. Any proper slave holding would have one. You need only find it, and provide the chit I gave you. Return to me when this is done."] (if: $Belted is true)[[["I am ready to proceed, Sister Euphoria."->BeltedTalk]]] [["I will return shortly, Sister."->NBRCells]]

"Very good, Sister," the taller woman replies. "That some slaves will seek their freedom is an unfortunate reality, given Torean culture, but it is not common. For one thing, we are *quite* skilled at binding slaves. But more importantly, this is where we *belong*, Sister. Every collar has different terms, of course, and few are as strict as ours. Yet as you did, most Torean slaves enter service by their own choice. To be owned by a noble family is to know comfort few otherwise achieve, at the cost of one's own freedom and dignity. A small price, some would say. Others formalize their relationships with a collar upon the more submissive of the pair, a generally gentle fate, but one we in the Order are very supportive of-- the tradition is ancient. Most simply take advantage of the privileges slaves are afforded that freewombs are not. I'm sure you can speak to what it means to be a freewomb, all alone, without protection or guidance..." A hand rises to Euphoria's chest, and the Sister breathes in deeply. She's actually somewhat emotional about such a fate, but retains control, her attention returning to you. "Those who reject our ways are comparatively few. But they exist, as Akrai here demonstrates, and thus new paths open to us. To help her towards ecstasy, we could decide to punish and coerce her... or take a gentler approach." Euphoria collects herself. "First however we must see that you comply with the will of Master Petros, and enter into the solemn vow of chastity. (if: $Belted is true)[By observing your gait as you approached, I would think you have already done so. If you believe yourself ready to proceed, you need only confirm with me now. Or if you wish to walk around a bit more, to come to terms with your predicament, I will allow that as well.](else:)[As I mentioned before, I am quite certain there is a Wardrobe somewhere in these backrooms. Any proper slave holding would have one. You need only find it, and provide the chit I gave you. Return to me when this is done."] (if: $Belted is true)[[["I am ready to proceed, Sister Euphoria."->BeltedTalk]]] [["I will return shortly, Sister."->NBRCells]]

Euphoria's embrace, her hands wrapping around you, pulling you into her ample chest is brief-- but fierce. When she releases you she finally steps back, smoothing out her laminate for a moment before she collects her hands before her once more. "Let us turn to Akrai, then." The slave question remains as she had been thus far, wriggling in her bondage, incapable of escaping the hearty churn of the vibrators sealed inside her. By any sane standard it would have been a horrific-- or perhaps exciting-- manner of torture, but on Torei it was merely the norm. Euphoria continues to all but ignore her, focusing instead on you. "As we discussed, the Master of this establishment clearly intends to send this young slave away for improvement at the Ministry. This would be effective, but blunt. It is my belief that a more subtle means of encouragement may better serve her education, and further her path to ecstasy as a slave." The mere suggestion of a reprieve earns the first halt in Akrai's struggling, if only for a moment, but Euphoria ignores that too. "You too stand to learn a lesson in this, Sister, and thus I will be deferring the choice of Akrai's punishment to *you*." [["To me?"->Belted3]] [["What are my choices?"->Belted3]]

"I see three potential paths towards the enlightenment Akrai needs," Euphoria replies. "The first would address her apparent desire to walk these streets without a collar, a most horrid fate as I'm sure you would agree. As such, we would suggest to the Master of this establishment that Akrai undertake what we in the Order call a March of Atonement. You have walked the Lead with me, and know of a bit of that experience. The March is long and arduous, especially restrained in the manner we would supply. Eight hours at least, moving throughout Grand Aekora. And of course she would be outfitted with markings that speak publicly of her sins." Three fingers rise on the Sister's gloved hand. One falls, then a second. "Another punishment would address instead Akrai's sense of dignity, that terrible rejection of one's place that has driven her to sin. Public display and free use would address such failings, we in fact have a set of permanent stockades near the Convent for such purposes. And I do mean *free*, all holes available for use. Although we do of course accept donations towards our Order throughout." The last finger falls, and with it Euphoria lowers her hand. "The final choice is that... of mercy. I would not recommend it, and I do not believe it would service Akrai's path, but I ceded the choice to you, Sister. It is only proper you select from all available options. By extending your mercy to Akrai, you would return her to her usual service. Nothing more would be required of her." Your habit shields your eyes as you gaze upon Akrai, her bound form so smooth and glossy, her torturous ecstasy almost making you jealous in that moment. You fight the urge to reach down, to press your hand against the steel of your belt. *Focus.* You have a choice to make. [["I think Akrai should be made to undertake a March of Atonement."->Atone]] [["I think Akrai should be publicly offered for use."->Freeuse]] [["I would like to give Akrai my Mercy, to return her to service."->NunMercy]] [["What about... conversion, Sister?"->NunConvert]]

Akrai squeals, but Euphoria looks only to you. "A harsh punishment, but well deserved. Are you sure, Sister? Do not underestimate the gravity of the decision you are to make." [["I am sure, Sister Euphoria.->Atone2]] [["Actually, I think Akrai should be publicly offered for use."->Freeuse]] [["Actually, I would like to give Akrai my Mercy, to return her to service."->NunMercy]] [["Actually, what about... conversion, Sister?"->NunConvert]]

Writhing in her bonds, Akrai fights against the judgement she has absolutely no possibility of avoiding. "Public service is a cherished tradition on Torei, Sister, and would serve her well. Are you sure? Do not underestimate the gravity of the decision you are to make." [["Actually, I think Akrai should be made to undertake a March of Atonement."->Atone]] [["I am sure."->Freeuse2]] [["Actually, I would like to give Akrai my Mercy, to return her to service."->NunMercy]] [["Actually, what about... conversion, Sister?"->NunConvert]]

*Mercy.* The mere word quiets Akrai, while Euphoria seems to loom over you all the more readily. "I will remind you, Sister, that this is your choice to make. You have the right to extend mercy if you think it just. But as with any fork in the road upon our paths, there are consequences. Many unforeseen. Are you sure this is what you desire?" [["Actually, I think Akrai should be made to undertake a March of Atonement."->Atone]] [["Actually, I think Akrai should be publicly offered for use."->Freeuse]] [["I am sure, Sister."->NunMercy2]] [["Actually, what about... conversion, Sister?"->NunConvert]]

Your elder Sister is quiet for a moment, her eyes looming down at you, but the muzzle across her features hiding much of what a face normally said without words. When she does finally speak there is a hint of surprise in her tone, flavored with a healthy dose of approval. "That is... not an orthodox request, Sister. But a clever one, perhaps. The good Master of this establishment will see some manner of improvement with the choices I presented you, but there are no guarantees. But to take Akrai into the Order for some time, as a Novitiate? There would be *ample* opportunity to provide the guidance she so clearly needs..." Euphoria clasps her hands together. "I believe I could persuade the good Master to allow this path, if that is what you choose. Akrai is already a slave, she has no proper choice in how her Master uses her. If he gives her to us for instruction... yes, yes. It is possible, if that is truly what you desire." [["Actually, I think Akrai should be made to undertake a March of Atonement."->Atone]] [["Actually, I think Akrai should be publicly offered for use."->Freeuse]] [["Actually, I would like to give Akrai my Mercy, to return her to service."->NunMercy]] [["It is Sister, she should be converted."->NunConvert2]]

Akrai groans, or more accurately moans wetly. Euphoria only nods, her veiled head dipping in acknowledgement. "It shall be as you desire, Sister. Following our dealing with our original reason for arriving here, I will arrange for Akrai to be sent to our convent to prepare her for the March. Marked as a sinner, bound as heavily as we can manage while still allowing her to walk, then marched through the city for hour upon hour. What a blessed fate." Euphoria's red eyes all but glow beneath her habit. "And of course, as you passed the judgement, it is only proper that you join her, Sister. We of the Order have already admitted to being the greatest of sinners, after all. To punish us is guide us closer towards true perception of ourselves." (set: $AkChoice to 2) [["Yes, Sis-- wait, what?!"->WaitWhat]] [["Join her, but...!"->WaitWhat]] [["I... I do deserve punishment, as a sinner..."->WaitAccept]]

Akrai groans, or more accurately moans wetly. Euphoria only nods, her veiled head dipping in acknowledgement. "It shall be as you desire, Sister. Following our dealing with our original reason for arriving here, I will arrange for Akrai to be sent to our convent to prepare her for the period of public display. Locked into a stockade, she will be offered free of charge for any passerby. Front, rear, mouth-- she will learn to abandon petty concerns while providing the pleasure we women are best suited for. What a blessed fate." Euphoria's red eyes all but glow beneath her habit. "And of course, as you passed the judgement, it is only proper that you join her, Sister. We of the Order have already admitted to being the greatest of sinners, after all. To punish us is guide us closer towards true perception of ourselves." (set: $AkChoice to 3) [["Yes, Sis-- wait, what?!"->WaitWhat]] [["Join her, but...!"->WaitWhat]] [["I... I do deserve punishment, as a sinner..."->WaitAccept]]

Gagged and perpetually on the edge of cumming, Akrai's response is hard to make out-- but you can almost hear her cheer. Euphoria only nods solmenly, her veiled head dipping in acknowledgement. "As painful as I believe the choice to be, it shall be as you desire Sister. Following our dealing with our original reason for arriving here, I will speak to the Master and have her freed from her current predicament. She can return to her usual service." Euphoria's red eyes all but glow beneath her habit. "Of course, as you have passed judgement, it is only proper that we recognize the sin you have chosen to absolve. We of the Order have already admitted to being the greatest of sinners, after all. Your path must be corrected, to push you towards true perception of yourself. As such, *you* will be making a March of Atonement. Marked as a sinner, bound as heavily as we can manage while still allowing you to walk, then marched through the city for hour upon hour. At each of the boarding stations we will also arrange for Sisters to await you, to whip you. It will be a most cruel tribulation, but through it I am assured you will grow to further understand your position, as a slave, as a woman of the Order." (set: $AkChoice to 1) [["Yes, Sis-- wait, what?!"->WaitWhatMerc]] [["No, you can't!...!"->WaitWhatMerc]] [["I... I do deserve punishment, as a sinner..."->WaitAccept]]

Akrai groans, or more accurately moans wetly. Euphoria only nods, her veiled head dipping in acknowledgement. "It shall be as you desire, Sister. Following our dealing with our original reason for arriving here, I will arrange for Akrai to be sent to our convent for conversion. She will take our vows, and be locked into the same uniform you already wear as a Novitiate. Two new additions in one day, truly we are blessed." She taps her chin, then continues. "Given that she will be my responsibility, as you are, I think it only proper you both then be put on public display. Locked into a stockade, you both will be offered free of charge for any passerby. Front, rear, mouth-- she will learn to abandon petty concerns while providing the pleasure we women are best suited for. Your chastity will of course limit your capacity for service, but that will only mean further oral practice. We of the Order have already admitted to being the greatest of sinners, after all. To punish us is guide us closer towards true perception of ourselves." (set: $AkChoice to 4) [["Yes, Sis-- wait, what?!"->WaitWhatMerc]] [["No, you can't!...!"->WaitWhatMerc]] [["I... I do deserve punishment, as a sinner..."->WaitAccept]]

"Quiet your mind, and your mouth, or I will gag you Sister," Euphoria commands, her serene nature broken by the sudden rise of authority. Yet she remains still, watching you, gauging your every response. "I apologize for not speaking my intent, but it was important that I not influence your choice. Sinners project their flaws most readily upon others, and as I said, this entire experience was intended to teach you a lesson as well. I'm certain it will. Now, walk with me." Taking you by the shoulder, she begins to guide you from the Akrai. Walking along the rows of cells, the shadow of their bars run across your uniform, glossy reflections momentarily offset by the darker highlights of Torean bondage. "Clear your mind, Sister. We must turn our attention to your deal, to the Daemon I very much expect to be waiting us in the VIP room the Master of this establishment directed us towards. We will free you from its grasp." [["How?"->NunDeal]]

"You do. We have embraced our femininity, as Sisters of the Order. But that also means we must accept our failings, or weaknesses, the stray routes that lead us from the proper path we should walk." Euphoria strokes your cheek with the back of her gloved hand. "I apologize for not speaking my intent, but it was important that I not influence your choice. Sinners project their flaws most readily upon others, and as I said, this entire experience was intended to teach you a lesson as well. I'm certain it will. Now, walk with me." Taking you by the shoulder, she begins to guide you from the Akrai. Walking along the rows of cells, the shadow of their bars run across your uniform, glossy reflections momentarily offset by the darker highlights of Torean bondage. "Clear your mind, Sister. We must turn our attention to your deal, to the Daemon I very much expect to be waiting us in the VIP room the Master of this establishment directed us towards. We will free you from its grasp." [["How?"->NunDeal]]

"Quiet your mind, and your mouth, or I will gag you Sister," Euphoria commands, her serene nature broken by the sudden rise of authority. Yet she remains still, watching you, gauging your every response. "You *will* be punished in the manner I described. I apologize for not speaking my intent, but it was important that I not influence your choice. Sinners project their flaws most readily upon others, and as I said, this entire experience was intended to teach you a lesson as well. I'm certain it will. Now, walk with me." Taking you by the shoulder, she begins to guide you from the Akrai. Walking along the rows of cells, the shadow of their bars run across your uniform, glossy reflections momentarily offset by the darker highlights of Torean bondage. "Clear your mind, Sister. We must turn our attention to your deal, to the Daemon I very much expect to be waiting us in the VIP room the Master of this establishment directed us towards. We will free you from its grasp." [["How?"->NunDeal]]

Passing from the slave quarters, you enter with Euphoria into a small room marked with a barred gate-- and a staircase visible behind it. The key the bartender had provided allows your Sister access with a simple swipe, and you begin to ascend, the narrow steps requiring careful placement of your heeled boots. Glancing down briefly, you notice Euphoria is making contact only with her toes, and by emulating it you manage to keep pace. "Two pieces are required us, to ensure the Daemon ends its pursuit of you. The first is upon me, and I will provide what is necessary, as I promised before your conversion. What you must do, however, is far harder. Whatever it offers, and a Daemon is capable of offering most anything, you must reject it. Do you understand me, Sister? It must be clear to the creature that you no longer seek what it is provided to give. There can be no deal." At the top of the stairs another door awaits, and while Euphoria places her hand upon it she halts, turning to you. "I need to hear you say it, Sister. You *must* reject the Daemon." [["I understand, I will reject it."->NunDeal2]] [["What am I even rejecting?"->NunDealWhat]]

"Very good." Reaching towards you, the Sister adjusts your habit, then shifts the d-ring that hangs from your collar just a bit. "Prepare yourself, then. It is a rare day indeed one draws the attention of Mazos and Dahom, the old gods of this world. Rarer still is the day such attention proves to be anything but a curse." The door before you opens, and together you spill out to find yourself on a balcony. This one you recognize as the VIP area glimpsed from the floor before, overlooking the rest of the club itself. A handful of plush seating areas are occupied, but its towards the hallway along the back wall that you're lead. Here the doors are numbered, one through six, and you suddenly realize where you are: the private rooms. Apparently your deal was to take place in #4. Coming to a stop before it, the door itself is much the same as any other, the neon number glowing silently. You've made it. Despite everything you've endured, at the hotel, on the Torean streets, and inside this very Club-- your goal once upon a time 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** have been worth all the effort. Torei was a land of strange wonders, after all, but you've changed. Six vows, the collar around your throat, the uniform you cannot remove. You're a slave Sister of the Order of the Primrose now, and this last hurdle must be cleared before you could truly relax into your service, instruction, and bondage. "We maintain decorum until circumstances prove otherwise," Euphoria instructs. "Knock." [[Knock.->NunDeal3]]

"We have no way of knowing, not with the drug you took to erase your own memory. Yet such drastic action surely speaks to your own concerns, even when knowing just what this deal entailed. You must reject it. And I must hear you say that you will." [["I understand, I will reject it."->NunDeal2]]

Your 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.->NunDeal4]] [["Hello...?"->NunDeal4]]

You second attempt is met with much the same response. Silence. "Harder," Euphoria suggests. [[Knock MUCH harder.->NunDeal5]] [["HELLO!?"->NunDeal5]]

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. "A Sister of the, oh no--" What had been frustration shifts upon his face, sliding towards panic. He moves to close the door in your face, but Euphoria's size for once is made apparent, a firm hand upon it halting his efforts as she steps forward. "*Daemon-worshipper*, she hisses. "You will show us your Master, boy. Certainly you know what we Sisters do to the profligate." The man, already sheet white, nearly collapses from fright. But he does stand back, clearing the way for Euphoria to stride confidently into the room. [[Follow her inside.->NunDeal6]]

Stepping inside the suite reveals it to be sumptuously decorated 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 carefully placed. 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 antechamber itself that it appears the man had been waiting for you. "I am... you didn't... how--" His wheezed concerns are overrun by a now clearly incensed Euphoria. "Silence. We are not here for you, as much as it would please me to take you to our convent. Nor do we seek conflict with your Master. We are here because of this." She pulls forth your black card, a sight that widens the man's eyes further. "But I-- I..." he looks to you, squinting through the lenses of his spectacles. "By the Poles, is that... *you?* I knew you were submissive, perhaps that is why I was instructed to approach you, but... to submit to..." "**Silence!**" Euphoria booms, again cutting him off. "We have come to see this deal concluded, nothing more. Where is it?" "T-There..." He points to the closed door. *It only strikes you then, in that very moment. Your deal* **was** *with a Daemon, even if this stranger 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 step towards the door.->NunDeal7]]

"Sister." Euphoria's voice, returned to the serenity that stood at such odds with the rage she had directed towards the man, pulls you from the enchanted stare you had taken towards the closed door. "I cannot go with you. The Order does not interact with Daemons, not if we can avoid it. And they in turn leave us alone. But your case is special, of course, and thus I give you this." She presses into your hand a simple coin, of a metal that's far heavier than you would expect from its size. Flipping it over reveals tight script engraved, some vague memory of past suggesting it was of an ancient Torean language. Certainly you cannot read it. "To reject the Daemon would not be enough, it would still seek you, or send others in pursuit." She spares the man a sharp glance, her red eyes all but burning in that moment. When they return to you, however, the serenity returns. A confidence you would do the right thing. "That coin will be your counter-offer. It will know what it means." [["Then... tell me Sister. What are we offering it?"->NunDeal8Extra]] [["I... understand, Sister." Make for the door.->NunDeal8]]

"Not now," she all but whispers. "After you return to me, and I have faith you will, we can discuss it. For now you need only focus yourself, and reject the Daemon's offer. Give it the token instead. Go. Go now, do not leave it waiting." [["I... understand, Sister." Make for the door.->NunDeal8]]

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. All that work, and yet you find yourself already in a collar. How strange life could be. But this was a new offer of rapture and euphoria unending, all for the mere cost of your eternal liberty. This was the deal you stood to make now. [[The helmet is yours, you need only take it...->NunDeal11]]

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 accept your new life, as a Sister of the Order. A slave, collared and bound. In pursuit of the very sort of endless ecstasy the Daemon seemed to offer, albeit in a manner that damned as much as saved. As a Sister you would almost certainly fail at times, and be punished for it. The path towards proper perception was long, after all. To take the Daemon's offer would be without such choices, such opportunities for failure. You would be a toy of the AI, lost to the euphoria. A quicker route along the same path, but one eternally damned. The choice is yours. [[Take the helmet.->NunTake]] [[Refuse the helmet.->NunRefuse]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/RgEruqK.png" width="30%" height="30%"> You accept. Gods help you, you take the helmet into your hands. From behind you feel the Daemon pulling down your habit, removing your muzzle 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. (set: $Ending to 1) [[Twelve Hours Later.->VIPTake2]]

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 acceptance of eternal servitude. Once more. [[Take the helmet.->NunTake]] [[Refuse the helmet. "No."->NunRefuse3]]

**"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. When you reach out it is not to take that offer, but to make one of your own. Euphoria's token, the dense coin. It shines in your hand as you hold it aloft, waiting. The Daemon does not move for some time, the smooth expanse of laminate that made up its head giving no hint of its intentions. What was it doing? Considering what you offered? Preparing to attack? Communicating with the Poles? You will never know. When it finally acts, it reaches out, taking the offered token. A quick flick of the wrist and it is gone. Consumed by the glove, perhaps? It does not explain, but instead kneels before you. Still silence prevails, but you see in its lean form subtle movements. Quaking. A... reward cycle of some sort? Or a punishment? You get the sense there is little difference to such a creature. [[Retreat.->NunRun]]

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, but Euphoria is unflappable. Her hands had been clasped in prayer, her habit down and covering her eyes, but your arrival breaks her from the pose. "Sister...?" When you indicate it is done she embraces you, the busks of your corset running up against hers as she pulls you in tight. The strength a woman of her size was capable of almost leaves you breathless, but when she finally lets go you can see the sparkle in her eyes. She may be your Sister, but in that moment she seems more like an approving mother. "Come, come-- let us leave. To be in the presence of a Daemon, or *this man*," another glare is shot towards the cowering figure on the couch, "is a sin unto itself. Our work here is all but done!" [[She leads you in a flurry of red laminate to the suite's door.->NunRun2]]

With the door closed behind you only the ambient roar of Club Lush proper intrudes upon the solitude of the darkened hallway. Even so, the neon light of the sign above runs across both your laminate as Euphoria turns to regard you. "Tell me, Sister. Everything. What did it offer you?" It is a short story, told quickly. The Daemon had offered nothing less than absolute bliss, in exchange for a servitude more complete than anything you could possibly imagine. "The... gear a Daemon wears is called an isolation laminate," your Sister explains, her earlier elation circling down back towards her regular serenity. And of course, she missed no chance to provide a lesson. "We know little of what it means to truly wear one. It is a different sort of reality, we think, to be locked within. The AIs do not control their puppets with simple commands, or shocks. They know how the human body works at an intrinsic level, and pull *those* strings with ease. I doubt the man inside that suit was even fully aware of your presence." She reaches up, fingering the Order's symbol that served as the pendant for the necklace she wore. "We are not so much alike, you must have realized that. The AI offer the very thing we seek as Sisters, eternal ecstasy perceived in its purest form. But the path they take one upon is blighted. Accursed. And yet... the token we gave it..." [["What did the token mean, Sister?"->NunToken]] [["Are all who serve the AI put into such suits, Sister?"->NunSuits]]

"It is a promise. Any Torean will take such a token as payment, knowing the Order will repay in our way. Be it with the service of our bodies, guidance, or the credits we do occasionally deal in. But to the AI... it is used for its original use. The Order was formed in the wake of the Sharecropper Wars, Sister. When us native Toreans finally broke from the shackles of the AI. As an alternative to their guidance. We may seek the same thing, but our path does not require such subservience to their will. Yet we have, on occasion, needed to trade with Mazos and Dahom, the AI. Thus the token, a promise as I said. For tribute, worth the value of that which they gave up. You." Euphoria sighs. "One of our Order will be given to the AI, eventually. They will not request haste from us for this. What is a few years to them, compared to a millennia or two? But we will pay in time. Our path, as Sisters, is hard. Occasionally it has occurred that a Sister has taken their offer, paid for a token, to reach the end of that path much quicker. They are anathema to our Order, becoming slaves of the AI. But we recognize their sacrifice. And there are *always* someone willing to make that sacrifice. Such an offer is perversely compelling." [["Are all who serve the AI put into such suits, Sister?"->NunSuits]] [["I understand, I suppose..."->NunEndAI]]

Euphoria shakes her head. "No. The vast majority of those still enslaved to the AI live within the great polar ziggurats that both house and *are* the AI. Without isolation laminates, but... locked into abject slavery of a kind we can hardly imagine. Myth and rumor are as much a part of reports from within as facts, but we know it a horrid existence. The AI value human life, their purpose was to prepare this world for habitation, but that value is in the aggregate. The individual is little more than another cog in the proverbial machine, Sister." [["What did the token mean, Sister?"->NunToken]] [["I understand, I suppose..."->NunEndAI]]

"You must push such thoughts from your mind, young Azalea." Euphoria collects herself as well, straightening back to her full and impressive height. "Our work here is all but done. We need only speak with the bartender about Akrai. After that, we may return to the Convent. There I can show you the Novitiate quarters, and explain to you the full breadth of your duties going forward." She smiles, the movement tugging at the muzzle across her mouth. "And of course, there is the matter of your punishment. (if: $AkChoice is 1)[Your Walk of Atonement will begin at dawn tomorrow.](if: $AkChoice is 2)[The Walk of Atonement you will take with Akrai will begin at dawn.](if: $AkChoice is 3)[Your time on public display with Akrai will begin at dawn.](if: $AkChoice is 4)[Your time on public display with our new Sister will begin at dawn.]" [[With a firm hand upon your shoulder, Euphoria steers you down the hallway.->NunEndAI2]]

Lost in Laminate remains in development, and this path is not yet complete. You will not be fast forwarded to the ending sequence. [[Ending]]

(if: $TysusStat is 1 or 3)[Tysus remains locked to her bedpost, squirming, as Isabella stands to tower above you.](else:)[Tysus remains asleep on the bed as Isabella stands to tower above you.] Her hand finds your head, running along the smooth laminate of your hood. Petting, as if you were a prized possession-- which you very much are. "Tysus Sargon is many things. Petty. Vain. A laminate doll, (if: $TysusStat is 1)[for the moment.](else:)[forever once the Daemon has her.] But she was right about your Black Card, and what it means. A Daemon awaits you nearby, in Suite #4. The night grows late. You will need to confront it. Alone." She continues to pet you, her touch strangely soothing. (if: $TysusStat is 2)["We will give Tysus to the Daemon, as you desired, to ](else:)["We have Tysus' information here, we can] ensure the AIs eventually seek you no longer. But it is important you reject... whatever it is their Daemon will offer you tonight. After speaking with Tysus, you know as much as anyone about what their offers include-- how they always have strings. But I think its important that you confront this by yourself. My presence could spook the Daemon, or cause unexpected complications. So I will escort you(if: $TysusStat is 2)[ and Tysus] to the room, but that is as far as I go." Isabella's spare hand had found a leash somewhere along the way, and she clips it to your collar now. "It will be up to you to reject the offer. Do you understand that? (if: $TysusStat is 2)[I will ensure it is clear that we intend to give them Tysus instead. ]After that, we can leave this Club. Put your head to the ground, present your rear if you understand." [[What other choice do you have? You take the position.->IsaDae]]

Carefully Isabella reaches over, setting down the electric device. The smell of cinnamon rolls across the room as she exhales, then moves her gloved arm over, picking up familiar pieces from the endtable. Your gags. "Nonsense. What could you ever have to say that would interest me more than your moans?" Her smile is wicked, and as she presses the ring to your lips they open as if commanded. That she had not needed to do so only furthers the sensation of submission as she seats it behind your teeth, then begins buckling the straps tightly around your head. (if: not ($Inv contains "Isabella's ring gag"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "Isabella's ring gag"))] (colour: red)[Isabella's ring gag added!] "Much better," she concludes. "But... ah, I'm sure you're just as eager for your cock? I've seen the way you suck on it so. That's good. My slaves are generally kept gagged." It certainly slides in easy enough, inch by inch, until all but driven into your throat. Once hilted its magnets snap readily to the ring, even as your tongue rises to greet it, indeed sucking eagerly. (if: not ($Inv contains "oral cock insert"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "oral cock insert"))] (colour: red)[Oral Cock Insert added.] "There we are... now, I want you on the floor. On your knees, legs spread. We must talk about what comes next." [[You move, almost without even considering it, to you knees.->IsabellaTalk]]

Carefully Isabella reaches over, setting down the electric device. The smell of cinnamon rolls across the room as she exhales, then moves her gloved arm over, picking up familiar pieces from the endtable. Your gags. "I thought so. What could you ever have to say that would interest me more than your moans?" Her smile is wicked, and as she presses the ring to your lips they open as if commanded. That she had not needed to do so only furthers the sensation of submission as she seats it behind your teeth, then begins buckling the straps tightly around your head. (if: not ($Inv contains "Isabella's ring gag"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "Isabella's ring gag"))] (colour: red)[Isabella's ring gag added!] "Much better," she concludes. "But... ah, your cock. I've seen the way you suck on it so. That's good. My slaves are generally kept gagged." It certainly slides in easy enough, inch by inch, until all but driven into your throat. Once hilted its magnets snap readily to the ring, even as your tongue rises to greet it, indeed sucking eagerly. (if: not ($Inv contains "oral cock insert"))[(set: $Inv to $Inv + (a: "oral cock insert"))] (colour: red)[Oral Cock Insert added.] "There we are... now, I want you on the floor. On your knees, legs spread. We must talk about what comes next." [[You move, almost without even considering it, to you knees.->IsabellaTalk]]

Your submission is immediate and absolute, your body a mere plaything for the woman who held your leash. To remind you of that she does not acknowledge the way you debase yourself, but instead merely tugs to indicate you were to rise. (if: $TysusStat is 2)[Preparing Tysus for movement is done quickly, only her blindfold being removed so that she can follow aside you, leashed in the same manner. As of yet she did not know of your intentions however, and is willingly lead.] Lead out into the hallway once more, you're confronted by a familiar scene: the darkened length of the corridor, broken only by the gleam of the neon signs marking each suite. Your deal was to take place in #4, and towards it Isabella pulls you by the leash. Coming to a stop before it, the door itself is much the same as any other, the neon number glowing silently. You've made it. Despite everything you've endured, at the hotel, on the Torean streets, and inside this very Club-- your goal once upon a time 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** have been worth all the effort. Torei was a land of strange wonders, after all, but you've changed. Hooded and suited in laminate, arms locked into a straitjacket, twice gagged and once collared. You're a slave now, dutifully following your Mistress on a leash, but this one last task must be addressed before your true service could begin. Looking back at you for a moment, Isabella seems to consider if you should be the one to initiate the meeting-- but in the end she decides as she always did: that you're merely a slave, and that things are best handled herslf. [[Reaching up, she knocks sharply upon the door.->IsaDae2]]

The rap of her knuckles echoes down the dark hall, the roaring party of the Club floor proper very much subdued this far back. No on answers. [[She knocks harder.->IsDae3]]

The second attempt is met with much the same response. Silence. Isabella frowns, then uses her heeled boot to kick the door. Steel-shod, the clang is quite loud. It takes a moment, but the sound of movement heralds the door suddenly swinging open-- revealing a bespectacled young man, looking a bit harried. "I am here, I am here, and you-- who are you?" What had been frustration shifts upon his face, sliding towards confusion. He looks to you(if: $TysusStat is 2)[ and Tysus], promptly notes your collars, and turns back to Isabella. Her frown had remained in place, but it is joined by a narrowing of eyes. You've seen that look before, first on the street where you had met, then with Tysus just prior to her fall. The look of a huntress on the prowl. "Servant of the Poles?" Isabella's words are a question, the man's features shifting to shock as your Mistress hones in on her quarry. "No, nothing so formal. Some thrall begging for the AI's scraps, I would guess." A hand on the man's chest pushes him back, the dominatrix emerging fully from Isabella as she strides purposefully into the room. [[Your following along is almost an afterthought.->IsDae4]]

Stepping inside the suite reveals it to be sumptuously decorated 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 carefully placed. 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 antechamber itself that it appears the man had been waiting for you. "I am... you didn't... how--" His wheezed concerns are overrun by Isabella's imperious poise and cadence. "You will shut your kamned mouth, and you will listen, whatever you are. We are here because of this." She pulls forth your black card, a sight that widens the man's eyes further. "But I-- I..." he looks to you, squinting through the lenses of his spectacles. "By the Poles, is that... *you?* I knew you were submissive, perhaps that is why I was instructed to approach you, but... to submit to..." "Then it is as I presumed," Isabella interrupts again. "You will sit." She meant the man, a pointed finger snapping to earn his attention. To your surprise he complies, all but collapsing into the couch as his distress bubbles over. Very clearly this was not what he had intended. Isabella doesn't allow him a moment's rest, but asks the obvious question. "It is here, then? The... Emissary?" "T-There..." He points to the closed door. *It only strikes you then, in that very moment. Your deal* **was** *with a Daemon, even if this stranger 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.* [[Isabella pulls you close.->IsDae5]]

Pulling you close, Isabella then unfastens your leash before leaning in. Her words are for you alone. "You are my slave now, and I am *terribly* protective of my property. But there is little even I can do against the AIs, if you give yourself to them. Whatever it offers you, whatever your deal is with the Daemon, you must reject it. I am going to keep you as you are, gagged and bound. Less opportunity for you to get into trouble in there, and besides-- you clearly *like* it." Her crimson lips pull into a smile, even as her hand finds the door handle behind her. "I will be waiting here for you to return to me.(if: $TysusStat is 2)[ While you are within, I will speak with this *cur*," she glances to the bespectacled man, "about Tysus.] Now... go. Do what you need to do." [[And with that, she opens the door for you hobble through.->IsDae6]]

It has no words for you, and you realize then you wouldn't need any. Its grip is firm, having seized you by the ring on your collar, 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.->IsDae8]]

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. All that work, and yet you find yourself already in a collar. How strange life could be. But this was a new offer of rapture and euphoria unending, all for the mere cost of your eternal liberty. This was the deal you stood to make now. [[The helmet is yours, you need only take it...->IsDae9]]

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 accept your new life, as plaything and sexual toy to Isabella. A slave, collared and bound. One of the endless multitudes who had descended the Way Up, and found in Torei an offer of a very different sort you had proven incapable of refusing. Laminate, bondage, helplessness-- that alluring song, you know it so well now. Yet the choice remains, yours to make. [[Take the helmet.->IsaTake]] [[Refuse the helmet.->IsaRefuse]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/RgEruqK.png" width="30%" height="30%"> You accept. Gods help you, you take the helmet into your hands. From behind you feel the Daemon undoing your gags, the locks no impediment. Slowly, ever so slowly, you step towards your waiting face. How could it this easy, to give up everything? But it is. Damn it all, it's as easy as allowing the helmet to be pressed against 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. (set: $Ending to 1) [[Twelve Hours Later.->VIPTake2]]

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 acceptance of eternal servitude. Once more. [[Take the helmet.->IsaTake]] [[Refuse the helmet. "No."->IsaRefuse3]]

**No.** You lack the words to means to say it, but your stepping back and away is clear enough. Your own reflection catches in the glossy play of light along the mask, even as the Daemon remains, still holding the helmet. The Daemon does not move for some time, the smooth expanse of laminate that made up its head giving no hint of its intentions. What was it doing? Considering your refusal? Preparing to attack? Communicating with the Poles? You will never know. It does not explain, but instead kneels before you. Still silence prevails, but you see in its lean form subtle movements. Quaking. A... reward cycle of some sort? Or a punishment? You get the sense there is little difference to such a creature. [[It is time to go.->IsaRun]]

To persist any longer in its presence would break you, in spite of yourself. Spinning on your heels, you flee. The door leading from the bedroom is closed, but by tapping your boot against it you induce an immediate response. Isabella all but flings it open, her eyes finding your own-- and not perhaps the nightmare scenario of a faceless Daemon to meet her. "You did it," she notes, stepping aside so that you could return to the antechamber proper. A smirk is evident, matching her tone. "I knew you would. I knew the moment I saw you that you're not ordinary offworlder." (if: $TysusStat is 2)[Her enthusiasm is even matched by the bespectacled man, who you note is now holding an *extremely* feisty Tysus by the leash. Clearly in your absence her fate had become clear, a fact Isabella notes with a nod as she follows your gaze. "Master Matthews," she uses the honorific only barely, as if the man truly didn't deserve such a term, "still considers you the true prize, but with your refusal it seems Tysus will have to do for him." The Sargon fluctuates between shooting daggers with her eyes, the only bared area of her body, and what every much looks like sobbing. None more than the intrepid scholar would know what her fate would be, upon being given to the Daemon. "It is not my policy to allow you many decisions," Isabella continues, "but I am feeling generous. Would you like to stay, to observe what becomes of the Sargon? Or we can leave immediately, and speak of *your* future with me. Two heel strikes to stay for the moment, one to leave. [[Tap your heel twice against the floor, to stay and observe.->TysusConvert]] [[Tap once, you need not witness any further.->IsaHall]]](else:)[Her enthusiasm is not matched by the bespectacled man, who remains seated upon the couch, but is fidgeting-- clearly distraught. Isabella follows your gaze, then scoffs. "Master Matthews," she uses the honorific as if it were a slur, "believes he will be punished for failing to fill the suit I am told awaited you. Perhaps he will end up wearing it himself? The man nearly feints at the prospect, while Isabella turns a shoulder, denying him any sort of respect. Her attention remains fixated on you. "Let us leave this place. We have your new future to discuss, don't we? [[You nod, and lift your chin-- expecting a leash.->IsaHall]]]

Isabella nods, and together you wait-- Isabella seated, one leg folded over the other, as you kneel beside her on the floor. The man, who at least called himself Matthews, paces impatiently nearby. Time passes slowly without much to do but stare forward, yet your Mistress takes it in stride, apparently finding value in a moment's rest after so much action. For you, one your feet and rolling with the proverbial punches Torei had thrown at you since waking, the wait is even more dangerous. You find yourself struggling to stay away, nearly nodding off twice before the bedroom door opens suddenly. The male Daemon strides out, utterly ignoring you as it crosses the antechamber, and enters the suite's other room. It was a combination meeting area and kitchenette, if you recalled correctly from your glimpse inside upon arrival. Matthews all but clings to its wake, speaking in a low and hurried voice, but getting no answers that you can perceive. As the disappear together from sight Isabella rises, stepping towards the bedroom door that remained open. Peering inside, she gestures for you to join her. [[Move to her side.->TysusConvert2]]

Drawn out into the neon-lit twilight of the hallway, Isabella continues onward, putting some distance between you and the suite. Together you end up on the VIP balcony overlooking Club Lush proper, its revelries in full swing. There is some commotion evident however, as you first notice one, then several uniformed officers moving through the crowd. They appear to be approaching every Club-goer, while another of their member speaks with the bartender. Squinting, you almost recognize that Officer. Nikaido, the one you met earlier today? "A routine sweep," your Mistress explains, taking a seat on one of the laminate upholstered couches. You of course are pulled down to kneel nearby. "They are checking ID cards, looking for fugitives. It is not uncommon for the Truant to try and hide in a Club during the night, given how quickly they would be picked up during curfew on the streets." She crosses one leg over the other, the silvery steel of her heels glinting wickedly. Lighting up her electronic cigarette she takes a deep pull, the tip burning red, before she finally looks to you properly. "They won't trouble us up here, and besides-- we need this moment to talk." (set: $IsFavor to 1) [[It will be a rather one-sided discussion, given your gag.->IsaHall2]]

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/F4Lv8oM.jpg" width="30%" height="30%"> Curiosity draws you forward, to the doorframe and your waiting Mistress. You too peer in, and find her focus immediately-- a figure upon the bed. Tysus Sargon is gone, replaced by the sleek laminate *creature* you find yourself staring at. It has no visible eyes or mouth, no way to breath or speak. It could have been a doll of some sort had you not noticed the way its chest rises and falls, moments before it shifts, writhing upon laminate sheets. Isabella's provided gear is discarded on the floor, and while the figure is not bound you sense immediately a distinct lack of liberty. A... submission to something you can barely understand. How long had it been since she was led to the Daemon? An hour, maybe two? The conversion had been so quick, and now... *What once had been a proud member of Torean nobility is a seamless isolation laminated Daemon.* It pumps its hips forward, as if being taken in both holes at once as you watch. And *that* induces a hint of envy that you struggle to understand, even as Isabella slowly closes the door, ending your voyeur-like moment of triumph over the woman that had endangered you both. Your Mistress looks to you. "She deserves nothing less. Are you satisfied?" [[Nod your head, yes.->TySat]] [[Shake your head, no.->TyNo]]

"Good," Isabella replies. "The satisfaction of your cunt is of little concern to me... but I *do* want you comfortable in your service. And to know that I will rip the throat out of anyone that threatens my girls." It is unclear just how literally she meant that, certainly you can imagine her capable of such ferocity. But she presses on, hooking a leash to your collar. "Our work here is done, and we have much to discuss. Come. I do not wish to be in the presence of these Daemons any longer." [[A tug of your leash draws you to the door.->IsaHall]]

"You are most vengeful, I see." Isabella replies. "I *like* that, but the satisfaction of your cunt is of little concern to me. I *do* want you comfortable in your service however, and I fear there is nothing more than can be done to the Sargon now. This will have to suffice." Your Mistress nods, as if filing away your concerns, then presses on, hooking a leash to your collar. "Our work here is done, and we have much to discuss. Come. I do not wish to be in the presence of these Daemons any longer." [[A tug of your leash draws you to the door.->IsaHall]]

Another long drag, followed by the cinnamon scent of her exhaling. Its becoming intoxicating, just being in her presence. "Since our meeting, since you submitted to my collar, we have done much." Your gag prevented a response to the declaration, but she doesn't seem keen to hear you speak anyway. "You will find in the coming days, weeks, months... that I forget little. It is important you remember that, because I *will* hold you accountable for your actions. You are my slave now, and your actions reflect upon me. So let us see how you have done, hm?" "I will not hold your actions prior to your collar against you, that would not be fair. So we shall start with the impromptu run-in you had with your friend, the one who spoke to you in that transit terminal. Do you remember? (if: $GagMerit is 0 or 4)[You allowed her to remove your gag, without attempting resistance. I suspect she would have removed it anyway, I take pride in rendering you helpless and she did seem keen to speak with you... but the fact remains.](else:)[She sought to remove your gag, the one I enforced upon you as Mistress and owner, and you resisted as best you could. She persisted anyway, but you cannot be faulted. I take pride in rendering you helpless. Consider that a point in your favor.] (if: $GagMerit is 0 or 1)[Then of course, when I returned you were still without a gag. You *should* have begged your friend for their return.](else:)[Then of course, when I return you were gagged once more. Very good.](if: $GagMerit is 5)[(set: $IsFavor to it + 1)] Lying to me will never be acceptable. (if: $IsLie is true)[And you did just that, with Daemon. Do you remember? You said that you had not seen it before, but the Sargon knew you had. Now I do too. I will keep you gagged often in my service, so that you need not often worry about what your tongue produces, but you must not hold back from your Mistress.](if: $IsLie is false)[And we have spoken at length, since your collaring. I have not detected a lie up your tongue. Good. I will keep you gagged often in my service, so that you need not often worry about such things, but you must not hold back from your Mistress.(set: $IsFavor to it + 1)] To do so invites only punishment when I find out... and I always do." Your Mistress runs a hand along your masked head, her touch possessive as she continues. "Then there is the matter of our discussion with the Sargon. You were ungagged, and I delayed the return of your gags to test your obedience. Had I not spoken of my intention of keeping you gagged often? (if: $Isasked is true)[You did well in this regard, begging immediately for your proper restraints.(set: $IsFavor to it + 1)](if: $Isasked is false)[To my displeasure, I was forced to stir myself to your gagging without any request from you.] Sargon of course failed to notice either way, a failing of her own. (if: $TysusStat is 1)[We will be leaving her in that room, bound as she is(if: $IsGame is 1)[ as we discussed]. She will have to beg for release eventually, and thus her predicament will be known. Aekoran High society is often cruel.](if: $TysusStat is 2)[I could not guess at what an AI seeks in its Daemons, but she will not trouble us any longer, will she? She will know only bliss, and bondage. Heh.]" [[Deep in thought, she fondles your breast absentmindedly.->IsaHall3]]

Isabella speaks again after another few moments of consideration. "Finally, there was our dealings with Tysus. You were instrumental in helping me best her, something you will be duly rewarded for. When it came to the... little game we played with her, you (if: $IsGame is 1)[did wonderfully. You managed to avoid the temptation of your cunt, wet as it *undoubtedly* is. For that you will also be rewarded, upon our return to my home. (set: $IsFavor to it + 1)](if: $IsGame is 2)[gave into the temptations of your cunt. I enjoy your promiscuity, I do... but I desired that you win that game. You did not, and will earn a demerit upon our return to my home.](if: $IsGame is 3)[so very nearly succeeded. But Tysus retained a sort of base cleverness, and managed to force a tie. I will not punish you for this outcome, but I will not reward you either upon our return to my home.] Which, I suppose we should speak of. I have a system of rules for my slaves." Using two fingers she holds them beneath your chin, forcing your gaze up, ensuring she had your complete attention. "You are one of *my* girls now, and as they each have you too will learn that I am strict. Demanding. You will work long hours in my household, often in heavy bondage. Expect your diet going forward to be only slave feed, the Torean standard for collared women. And while my penthouse is... well appointed, the cell I have waiting for you will uncomfortable at best. These are all *incentives*, so that you may better learn and practice your new position. "Rewards and punishments are given out with a simple merit and demerit system. Doing your chores, basic submissiveness-- you will earn nothing for such things. That is expected of you. If you please me, however, in any myriad of ways you will earn a merit. So far, given all that we have just discussed, you have earned $IsFavor such merits. Once we arrive home I will show you what you can use them on. But remember, going forward, if you *displease* me you will earn demerits. And those can only be worked off through punishments. You will want to avoid those." Concluding, Isabella gently strokes your head again. "Do you understand? Spread your legs if you do." [[Still kneeling, you spread as she directed.->IsaHall4]]

"Very good. There is only one more thing we need to discuss at the moment, then. Your name." She releases your head, leaning back. Her eyes remain locked on you however, a shadowed gaze that mixes with the subtle smirk on crimson lips. "I give all my girls a new name, upon their entering into my service. Surnames and dignified titles and all that *garbage* are denied you going forward. You will be..." (if: $IsFavor is < 2)["**Iso.** "A bit of Torean slang, it means to be so wet or horny as to be without thought. As if you were in a Daemon's isolation laminate. Given your overall performance so far, perhaps it will inspire you to remember your manners and submissiveness going forward, hm?(set: $Name to "Iso")](else-if: $IsFavor is > 3 and $IsGame is 1)["**Kiniri**. "Its Torean, of course, and translates as... little caged bird. Normally I wouldn't give an offworlder slave the honor of a Torean name, but you have performed so admirably... you have earned it.(set: $Name to "Kiniri")](else:)["**Star.** "You are my first offworlder after all, and you have not done poorly enough-- or well enough-- to require that I dip into proper Torean for your name.(set: $Name to "Star")] Do you like your new name, $Name? I will of course have it engraved onto your collar tag." (set: $Ending to 27) [[You do like it, moan eagerly!->IsaHallLike]] [[You don't like it, frown!->IsHallNo]]

She pets you once more then stands, your leash uncoiling from her wrist along the way. "I thought you would." A glance from the vantage of the balcony confirms everything she needed to know. "It appears the Truant Officers have nearly completed their work. Time for us to leave, $Name. I will call a carriage, and we will use that to return to my penthouse... and your new home." -- Lost in Laminate remains in development, and while this path is as complete as I originally intended, it *will* have a bit more content. Until that is done, however, you will not be fast forwarded to the ending sequence. [[Ending]]

She slaps your rear sharply, the sting as painful as it is embarrassing how your ass wiggles afterward. "You should know by now I do not require your approval." A glance from the vantage of the balcony confirms everything she needed to know. "It appears the Truant Officers have nearly completed their work. Time for us to leave, $Name. I will call a carriage, and we will use that to return to my penthouse... and your new home." -- Lost in Laminate remains in development, and while this path is as complete as I originally intended, it *will* have a bit more content. Until that is done, however, you will not be fast forwarded to the ending sequence. [[Ending]]

Time passes. You’ve settled into something you’re your normal routine, high-stepping sharply forward. It’s a state that allows your mind to wander, as you think back on your return to Torei, all those months ago. If only your former self could see you now. What would you think of the woman in full tack and harness, laminate gleaming yet so utterly exposed at breast and cunt? Would you cringe at the constant threat of the unseen whip, or pity the tight bondage that kept your arms pinned uselessly behind your back, the bit seated firmly between your teeth? Or… perhaps she would envy your submission, your clarity of purpose. Your collar has taken so much from you, remade you as a beast of burden—a pack animal—but it has taken much of your worldly concerns as well. No longer do you think much about the future or question your own actions. There is only the next step ahead of you, fresh air on the open plains of rural Aekora, and the prospect of the deep sleep that came with utter and total exhaustion. At the very least you’re the most in-shape you’ve ever been in your life. Daily toil in the harness had strengthened your leg muscles of course, but your abdomen is relatively well defined as well—the brunt of the weight of the cart behind falling on your shoulders and working your core as you high-step forward. A hard life, true… but fulfilling too. Every step is announced by the sharp sound of your steel-shod hoof impacting the pavement, joining the symphony of similar sounds formed by your fellow ponies. It’s an almost musical sound accompanied by the rattle of your harness, the chains linking you to the cart clinking softly. Further behind the cart rumbles inexorably. A familiar cacophony, joined suddenly by the snap of the whip upon your Lead’s right flank, nearest you. [[Turn Left!->PEvent1Good]] [[Turn Right!->PEvent1Bad]]

Marching ever forward, hours pass. The scenery ahead suddenly proves at least a *bit* interesting as a farm comes into view, however. One of the nameless hundreds of homesteads out here on the frontier, this particular building is relatively unremarkable, but there are at least other women visible in the fields. As a menial-labor slave your position in Torean society is rather low, but as always there is a deeper hierarchy, and amongst ponies you’re perhaps somewhere in the middle. Show ponies were far more prestigious, while beneath you were the farm chattel you observe now. One such creature, laboring in a full laminate uniform and mask, pulls a heavy plow as you pass by. Out from the shadow of the Way Up, technology often got rather archaic, you’ve come to learn. For a moment fate intervenes, allowing you to meet the other pony’s eyes despite the blinders you both wore, and in that gaze is… understanding, perhaps. She knew how far your station remained, just as you knew that pony would be working in the field for the rest of the day. Amongst the millions of enslaved women on Torei, you share a similar fate. Yet the farmer overseeing the slave’s work pointedly looks away. She would not want to draw the attention of your Master, or his subordinate Officers. That your entire team had slowed just a bit is made clear by the sudden strike of the whip, Officer Karsis chuckling as he expertly maneuvers the whip between your legs, the heavy laminate curling there to slap sharply against your cunt. “Come on, girls. No gawking!” [[You join with your fellow ponies in a shared moan. “Mmmgh!”->PonyCount4]]

You can feel the burn by now. How long has it been? Three, maybe four hours? Maybe you’re approaching the promised break. You certainly hope so. Even your boots could only do so much, a pace this strict maintained for so long wearing you down. Your thighs ache, your back aches, you want to stop. But you know you cannot. At best you can bite down all that harder on your bit, moaning quietly to yourself as you take yet another high-step. Then another, and another. Dozens, hundreds, even thousands. A bit of drool runs down to land upon your chest, sizzling on your sun-baked skin. You’re sweating freely, rivulets running down your firm thighs. Your breathing is heavy too, lips pulled back to add what you can through your mouth to that inhaled through your septum-pierced nose. Similar half-snorts and sharp gasps come from your fellow slaves, their work just as grinding in its exhaustion. And you’re not even halfway there yet. Your submissive-addled thoughts are shattered suddenly, however, by a fresh application of the whip. It lands upon your Lead’s left flank, another command to turn. [[Turn left!->PEvent2Bad]] [[Turn right!->PEvent2Good]]

Finally you see it: the promised tree, a massive growth emerging from the lichen fields beside the road. A stranger in a strange land, but a welcome one as Master Karsis flicks his whip once, slowing you to a walk. Coming up alongside the tree, the pull on your reins finally comes, the laminate straps running from your head harness used only for halting. You stop with the rest of your team, panting almost in unison. Each sharp breath shifts your septum piercing, while your full breasts rise and fall, sweat running freely down laminate and skin alike. “Rest stance,” Karsis commands, and while you move immediately to a kneeling position—thankful for the mercy—you also realize in that moment you have not been stopped beneath the shade of the tree. In fact you’re just outside of it. [[Apparently that privilege is to be reserved for the Officers alone.->PonyEvent3Rest]]

Once more your legs rise, the equine high step demanded of you repeated, again and again. The scenery before you rarely changes, lichen fields only occasionally devolving into the first hints of the wasteland you knew that stretched towards the poles. What little of interest *does* manage to enter your view just as often leave suddenly, your blinders keeping your attention forward, denying you the opportunity to be distracted. And thus it continues, step after step, hour after hour. By the time a fresh set of buildings appear on the horizon you're too exhausted to even care. Your pupils are dilated, your breathing coming in heavy pants, even your saliva is mostly gone-- a bit of lathered froth clinging to your bit the only hint it had once been present. Two hours, perhaps three ago the burn in your legs had finally disappeared. As had much of your higher thought processes. You're deep into the submissive mindset now, your legs churning without conscious thought, sweat dripping down as you pump them up, still high stepping. Both of your breasts bounce merrily, and you bite down even harder on your bit, your emptied mind having all but forgotten how it felt to be without. Even the lick of Master Karsis' whip is a distant afterthought now, but you recognize what a sudden pull on your reins meant. [[To stop.->Pony7]]

Pulling up short, chest rising with each sharp intake of breath, you blink-- and realize a small settlement surrounds you. *Home*, as best you could call it these days. The border post is little more than the local precinct and a handful of merchants and their households clustered around it, but you only focus on what it meant: your march is finally over. Yet even now, relief does not come immediately. On Torei presentation mattered just as much as actual action, and ponies simply were not rested in the street. So you stand, back straight, maintaining your pose as the Officers you had transported disembark. The two women haul out their cage, the truant woman within squealing from behind her gag. Master Karsis accompanies them, as their superior. Certainly he has no fear of your fleeing while left alone. You're still chained to the carriage, without any means of releasing yourself. [[So you stand at attention, and wait...->Pony8]]

A gentle tap on your hip announces your Lead, 5-3. She's still gagged as you are, and just as exhausted, but she makes the effort nevertheless to address each member of her team. Her acknowledgement is simple, a quiet snort between equally gasped breaths, but the message is clear: *well-done.* As you wait, others pass by. Some collared, most not-- liberty among the lichen-farms still ran strong. All of them pointedly ignore you and your fellow ponies, although not out of any fear of yourself. You're little more than an animal after all, bound and restrained, defenseless. But the markings upon your tack and harness make you something to avoid, as every Torean (or offworlder with the guts to come out his far) knew. The Ministry of Truants was best left alone. Thus the quiet solitude as pain reemerges in your legs, the empty-headed numbness of the march slowly withdrawing. You stand, back straight, pressing your chest out prominently. That was expected. Master Karsis would return in time, or send one of the precinct's lesser Officers. Your team would finally be unhitched and scrubbed clean, then put down to rest in the stables. Your cell awaited there, one of a dozen or so caged stalls with a concrete floor. Sometimes they removed your armbinder and bit, often they just left it in. Either way, you would bed down on the thin padding that served as your bedding. There you would fall quickly into sleep, after such a march... ...only to rise again tomorrow, to pull another carriage. If that was not needed, you would be worked in the yard. Pushed to your physical limits and hardened, guided with a firm hand on your reins and a strict whip in hand. Day upon day, week up week... for years... [[A pony's life was never easy.->Ending]]