FOXXX

You are roused from your deep sleep by the all too familiar feeling of a hand as it roughly squeezes your rump. Your face is buried in a pillow, and you simply enjoy the sensation. That is... until the squeezing is replaced with an open-palmed slap. In an instant, your peaceful half-sleep is torn from you. You let out a yelp, reflexively pulling the covers up and around yourself, your left ass-cheek no doubt bright red. At the side of the bed stands Kors, a fellow cadet. They would tower over you, even if you were standing. They're staring down at you with a lewd but utterly dismissive expression on their face. He taps his wrist as if he's wearing a non-existent watch. "Wakey wakey, slut. It's time for you to leave." Your head still spinning from being woken up, and a slew of party cocktails the night prior, you struggle to process what he's saying. "Huh? What--?" you manage to blurt out, after several uncomfortable seconds. You rub your reddened ass cheek, finding that the fading sting serves to wake you slightly faster. Kors folds his arms, unimpressed. He motions to the door with his thumb. "You heard me. Fun's over, scram." You climb out of bed, still foggy-headed, trying your best to remember the previous evening... There was a team-building event the afternoon prior, and you found yourself paired up with Kors, much to his annoyance. The other Vulpis (of no less than 7ft tall) had stared down at you with thinly-veiled contempt. You both passed the exercise, although he elected to carry you over his shoulder for the entire thing; no more helpful than a training weight. As he completed the objectives, never once letting you touch the ground, he gripped your waspish ass with surprising firmness. Your results for the exercise, although entirely undeserved, were far above your average performance rating. To try and thank him, you approached him by the lockers and asked if there was anything you could help him with in return... Biting your lip, you uncover the increasingly fragmented memories of how the night progressed-- Sex, drugs, more sex-- until you passed out. You remember that Kors was still roughly pumping into you when you drifted off. Kors, naturally, is readying himself for the day as if nothing at all happened the night prior. Unfortunately, you're not quite as lucky, feeling like you got hit by a man-shaped train. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>[[You should leave->Introduction - Leave]]</td></tr> </table>}

Still groggy and sore, you struggle to pull on your jumpsuit with impressive clumsiness. There are only a few people around, yet you hear hushed whispers about having been seen exiting Kors' room. It's not the first time you've been seen partially dressed and messy-haired, limping out of someone else's room. As you struggle with your shirt buttons, you accidentally walk into someone. You begin to apologise, but immediately find yourself pushed roughly against a wall. Holding you in place against the corridor wall is a pissed-off-looking cadet. He's far shorter than Kors but still taller than you by a decent amount. They practically interrogate you for having bumped into them. "The fuck do you want, shrimp?" "Sorry, it was an accident" you hurriedly apologise, not one for confrontation. A second cadet chimes in, half-pushing past the first, must to their chagrin. He shoots you an immature smirk as he lays into you as well. "An accident? Like you, loser!" The first cadet lets go of you, sizing you up for a moment. They're taller than you, which seems to be the norm. "Why are you in such a hurry? Heading to go suck some dicks, huh?" A third cadet who had been hanging back decides to get a lick in as well. They peek around the duo already insulting you. "Bet it's all you're good for." --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>[[Push past->Introduction - Push past]]</td> <td>[[Prove them right->Introduction - Prove them right]](if: $ContentWarnings is "High")[ 😥 ]</td></tr> </table>}

You're not dealing with this today. You push past the bullies and proceed down the hall. Unfortunately, that isn't the end of it. You yelp as one of the bullies strikes your already reddened ass with the second open-palmed slap of the morning. As you continue to walk, rubbing your sore ass, you can hear the bullies laughing. You doubt being seen rubbing your ass is going to help with all of those rumours being spread about you-- even if they're true. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>[[Head back to your room->Introduction - Your bedroom]]</td></tr> </table>}

Resigning your dignity and deciding to accept the rumours about yourself, you ask the cadets if they want some stress relief. They give each other unsure looks, calling you derogatory phrases and they brush off your request. Yet still, after some deliberation, you find yourself being pushed into a nearby supply closet. On your knees, you can feel yourself drooling as the three cadets undo their belts and press their already hard members to your face. You take a dick in each hand, leaning towards the one in front of you. You suck off the leader of the group first, wincing as he shows you little to no care at all. His knot beats against your lips for a few thrusts before he shoves it into your mouth and pumps his seed down your throat. At this point, the dick in your left-hand sprays ropes of cum over the side of your face. You close your eye a little too late, flinching as your face is painted. The dick in your right hand though... its owner is complaining. They're not even close... Noticing that they're the biggest among the three, you open your mouth wide, inviting them to try something else. Unfortunately, it becomes immediately clear that they don't care about your well-being at all. You gag as fox cock slams down your throat. They grip your ears and begin to facefuck you. You can even hear the other cadets trying to get them to calm down but to no avail. Their growing knot battering against your face, it isn't long before they cram it past your teeth and blast the back of your throat with cum. They hold you in place, and all you can do is swallow-- not that you need to. They're so big, they're practically spraying straight into your stomach. When they're done, they try to pull out... but your head moves as well. They grip your ears and pull, swearing at you, yet your face stays stuck on their knot. The corners of your vision begin to fade. You're choking on their dick. You always suspected you might go out like this, but... The two other cadets grab you by the ears and throat respectively, pulling you back as the cadet with their cock in your throat pulls back as hard and sharply as they can. //POP!// Tears in your eyes, still gagging, you wheeze, and cough as air fills your lungs. The cadet that just about choked you looks down at you with pity for a moment, before slapping your face with their dick. "Bitch." The three cadets leave, turning off the light as they go. You're left in the dark... stomach full, neck in agony, your face and clothes drenched in three different guys' cum. You wipe your chin, not that it makes any kind of real difference. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>[[You should head back to your room->Introduction - Your bedroom]]</td></tr> </table>}

You quickly hurry to your room, unwilling to endure any more excitement this morning. The trip doesn't take too long, and you're soon hurrying into your room. To put it simply, your room's a complete mess. There are clothes and books strewn haphazardly around the room, which resembles a bomb site more than it does a place any reasonable person would spend their time. You recall an old idiom that read something like "A tidy room is the sign of a tidy mind". If the opposite is true, then perhaps you can understand why your room is so messy... You should tidy up. You're not sure you can afford to fail another random inspection. You're sure you'll get round to it... eventually. For now, though, you should get ready for today's lesson. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>[[Go to class->Introduction - Class]]</td></tr> </table>}

Your head hurts. You roll onto your side, the cold metal floor soothing the colossal headache you're currently enduring. Over the following seconds, you begin to remember what happened. You're not sure how long it's been since you lost consciousness. You roll onto your front, struggling to coordinate your numb limbs, but soon manage to stagger to your feet with the help of a nearby wall. The area is unfamiliar, but you quickly realise you're on a ship of some kind. The interior looks aged and well-worn, with outdated technology that must be more than a decade old. Whatever this ship is, it's a real hunk of junk. You stumble out of the room, wandering around the ship and calling out for help. There's no response. Your voice echoes down the dark, old halls. When you spot the bridge, you hurriedly run up to the communications console. It's as outdated as the rest of the ship, but you've soon navigated the legacy interface and started hammering in communications parameters. You message the Vulpis fleet on an open channel. You wait a few minutes and then a few more. The dusty old communications console indicates that your message has been received, but that no response has been issued. Frustrated, you pound your fists against the communications console. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>[[You are alone->Introduction - Meet your AI]]</td></tr> </table>}

Just as you're on the verge of giving up completely, you hear a voice. You feel a wave of relief that quickly fades when you realise there's nobody around. The voice is coming from a nearby speaker, and you soon realise that the voice you're hearing is the ship's artificial intelligence. "Greetings, Captain. It is an honour to have you on board this vessel." it chimes, a bizarrely chipper greeting considering your awful situation. "How may I assist you?" it continues. You pause, a tightness in your chest. You want to ask questions that you know the humble AI will be unable to handle. You let out a tired sigh, giving a genuine answer. "Honestly, I'm not sure." The AI continues with unabated optimism. "Not to worry, Captain. I am currently amalgamating your personal data, so I should have some stratagems for you soon." You feel a slight relief to know there's someone on your side, at least, but suddenly find yourself asking a question. "My personal data?". The AI happily confirms your statement. "Yes, Captain. Your personnel file, academy data, behavioural analytics, browser history, medical recor--" That all sounds standard, except for one thing. You feel a bolt of shock as you find yourself yelling. "Wait! Did you say browser history?" There's silence for a few awkward seconds, the hum of the ship growing more pronounced for a few seconds. It's as if power is being diverted for some particularly large computations. "Yes Captain, I am currently adding past PlaNet queries to my neural network, along with the resulting data." the AI emotionlessly informs you. It continues, happily providing you with a progress report. "I am at 94% complete, however, it is taking some additional time due to large quantities of video format data." Having made some truly awful PlaNet searches in your time, you immediately know that any usage of that information will be entirely to your detriment. "Ok ok-- hold on-- abort, don't install my--" you begin to blurt out. You're cut off almost immediately. "Congratulations, Captain. I have finished adding all of your personal information to my neural network. Beginning configuration changes to best suit you and your habits." You clasp your hands over your face, waiting in panicked silence, knowing full well what kind of data the AI is currently using to configure its settings. "Configuration complete, Slut." the AI suddenly states. "Wh-what?" you ask, unsure that you just heard that correctly. The AI repeats. "Repeating statement: Configuration complete, Slut." This is ridiculous... "It's Captain." you correct the accidentally rude AI. It hums for a few moments as the nearest view portal adjusts so that they can get a better look at you. "My apologies, Slut Captain," it says, with no ill intent at all, or so you believe. Something tells you that this AI is going to be more hassle than it's worth. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>(link-goto: "Examine the rest of your ship" , "Ship - Hub")</td></tr> </table>}

{(set: $Event to (random: 1,4)) }(if: $Ship_Bridge_BeenBefore is true)[You make your way into your ship's bridge, stride across the room and unceremoniously fall backwards into the Captain's chair. The worn-out padding is a welcome relief, even if it's not very comfortable. The chair still feels uncomfortably large, and you feel a little embarrassed at how small you must look. Your ship's AI silently adjusts the surrounding navigation panels, struggling to accommodate such an unassuming captain. From here, you can navigate to several planets:]{ }(else:)[{(set: $Ship_Bridge_BeenBefore to true) }You make your way to the bridge of your ship. As the door hisses open, you're immediately uncomfortable at how quiet the room is. In the past, you've been accompanied by other cadets and stern superiors, but now there's only the dull hum and infrequent beep of the unmanned navigation consoles. You approach the Captain's Chair, hesitating for a few moments. It's well-worn, bearing the ghosts of prior Captains. As you turn and sit, you feel undeserving of the worn-out old padding. It's far too large for your tiny stature. When you were younger, sitting in the Captain's chair was your greatest dream, but now it feels like the biggest responsibility in the universe. Maybe it is. From here, you can navigate to several planets:] --- { <table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>''Vulpis-occupied territory''</td> </tr> </table> <table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[-Vulpis-->Vulpis]]</td> <td>[[-Taun-->Arrive on Taun]]</td> <td>(text-colour:red)[-The Scar-]</td> </tr> </table> --- <table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>''Lunisian-occupied territory''</td> </tr> </table> <table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[-Luna-->Arrive on Luna]]</td> <td>(text-colour:red)[-Домой-]</td> <td>(text-colour:red)[-Ovis-]</td> </tr> </table> --- <table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>''No man's land''</td> </tr> </table> <table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[-Metris-2-->Arrive on Metris-2]]</td> <td>[[-La'ard-->Arrive on La'ard]]</td> </tr> </table> --- <table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>''Merchant's guild territory''</td> </tr> </table> <table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[-Procya-->Arrive on Procya]]</td> <td>[[-Sciurus Metallicum-->Arrive on Metallicum]]</td> <td>(text-colour:red)[-Sciurus Silva-]</td> </tr> </table> --- <table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>''D10N-Y5-U5 allocated space''</td> </tr> </table> <table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[-Hedon-->Arrive on Hedon]]</td> <td>(text-colour:red)[-Dionysys Core-]</td> <td></td> </tr> </table> --- <table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Head back to the commons area->Ship - Hub]]</td> </table>}

(if: $Ship_AICore_BeenBefore is true)[You enter the room where your ship's AI is housed, avoiding hanging, sparking wires as you enter. A myriad of status lights flicker across the myriad of equipment contained here, although most seem to be reporting errors. Ahead of you, the AI core begins to speak. Its voice is fragmented, sounding as if several people are speaking at once. When the voices coalesce, the result is something oddly chipper and exceptionally menacing. "Welcome, Slut Captain," your AI companion greets you. "How many I help you?"]{ }(else:)[(set: $Ship_AICore_BeenBefore to true){ }You make your way into your ship's engineering sector and then into the room where the AI core is housed. It's obvious that you've entered a specialist area–There's no attempt to hide the technical innards of the ship. Frayed, sparking wires hang from flashing consoles and equipment. Although there are countless screens, consoles and access panels, almost all of them appear to be in utter disrepair. Given how much equipment is smashed or sparking, you easily can easily understand why your ship's AI is so unstable. Ahead of you, their central core is contained. It's connected to the rest of the ship by several thick, high-capacity cables. "Welcome, Slut Captain," your AI companion greets you. "How many I help you?"] --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Ask about AI->Ask about AI]]</td> <td>[[Ask about mission->Ask about your mission]]</td> <td>[[Disconnect AI core->Deactivate core]](if: $ContentWarnings is "High")[ 🤕😥 ]</td> </tr> <tr> <td>[[Check your Codex->Codex]]</td> <td>[[Leave->Ship - Hub]]</td> <td></td> </tr> </table>}

(if: $Ship_Bunks_BeenBefore is true)[You make your way through to the Captain's Quarters. It still feels strange that these are //your// quarters. (if: $HasItem_PuppyPal is false)[The room is messy beyond description, looking more like a bomb site than somewhere a person might sleep. Despite that, it still manages to look leagues better than your room back on Vulpis. At the very least, the bed is relatively clean. There are also some spare jumpsuits hanging off hooks nearby. Overall, it should be fairly comfortable to rest and re-dress here.]{ }(else:)[The room is remarkably tidy at the moment, somehow in a better state than when you first found it. The bed has been carefully made, and some spare jumpsuits have been laid out in case you need them. You can hear your Puppy Pal android humming nearby. You suppose you have them to thank.] What will you do now?]{ }(else:)[(set: $Ship_Bunks_BeenBefore to true){ }You make your way to the Captain's Quarters. Although it sounds a little silly, you were a little excited when you realised that your crew of one would allow you the best bunk. Back on Vulpis, you were always relegated to the worst ones that could be issued. Built into the far wall of the room is a bookshelf. It's empty now, but dusty outlines mark where numerous awards and accolades once sat. You had a similar bookshelf back home, albeit without the marks of past achievements. On a nearby wall hangs a faded propaganda poster which, after realising that it's a stylised artwork of your great great grandfather's face, you immediately tear down. In the centre of the room is a gigantic, comfy-looking bed. It isn't the tidiest at the moment, nor is it the cleanest, but it looks like it will be more than sufficient should you become tired during your travels. What will you do now?] --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Go to sleep->Sleep]]</td> <td>[[Take a shower->Shower]]</td> <td>[[Look in the mirror->Mirror]]</td> </tr> <tr> <td>[[Masturbate->Masturbate]]</td> <td>[[Leave->Ship - Hub]]</td> <td></td> </tr> </table>}

{(set: $Event to (random: 1,4)) }(if: $Ship_MedBay_BeenBefore is true)[You head to your ship's medical bay, taking a step back as the hermetically-sealed door hisses open, buffeting you with pressurised air for a few moments. The humming lights overhead only add to the discomfort you feel in this room. The immaculate hygiene of this space is in stark contrast to the rest of your ship, despite your best efforts. On the far side of the room is your ship's cloning tank–currently empty. A camera whirrs quietly on an adjacent wall, indicating that your ship's AI is watching you closely. Curious, you decide to ask about...]{ }(else:)[(set: $Ship_MedBay_BeenBefore to true){ }You step up to a doorway labelled "Medical Bay". The door is heavy-duty, but through a glass aperture, you can see the white, metallic veneer of the room beyond it. Articulating the console to the side of the door, your fur bristles as the room ahead of you goes through a decontamination sequence. When the airtight doors open, you're momentarily buffeted by an artificial wind, the pressure on either side of the entryway taking a moment to stabilise. Whereas other parts of the ship look barely operational, the medical bay seems like it's in remarkably good shape. For a few moments, you ponder why that is. You soon realise that it's the only part of the ship where cleanliness and functionality are undeniably linked. You've come to accept that your ship is a hand-me-down, a piece of junk retrofitted for functionality and with little to no regard for your comfort. You've simply strayed into a room with an unusually high minimum hygiene requirement. You step inside the room with some trepidation. High-intensity ultraviolet lights hum overhead, flooding the room with a piercing, sterilising light. Medical devices of unrecognised shape and configuration are built into the walls, floor and ceiling of the room. You were never the most studious triage student, unfortunately. You do recognise a few chemical synthesisers, although it's anyone's guess what they produce. It's all old equipment too, and you doubt any hospital worth its salt would use any of it. On the far side of the room sits your ship's cloning tank. Your heart skips a beat when you see it, but luckily it seems to be empty. As you continue to scan the room, still feeling tremendous anxiety at everything before you, you suddenly spot one of your ship's cameras on an adjacent wall. A dull, blinking light confirms that your ship's AI is watching. Curious, you decide to ask about...] --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>[[The cloning process->Ask about cloning]]</td> <td>[[Recovering clones->Lost clones]]</td> <td>[[Side-effects]]</tr> <tr><td></td> <td>[[Leave->Ship - Hub]]</td> <td></tr> </table> (if: $Event is 1)[ --- You can hear a strange noise. It sounds like fluid sloshing, followed by coughing. <table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>[[Investigate the strange noise->Ship - Cloning mishap]](if: $ContentWarnings is "High")[ 🤕😥 ]</td></tr> </table>]}

(if: $Ship_Hub_BeenBefore is true)[You're standing in your ship's hub area. Somehow, it looks in even worse repair than the last time you saw it. Luckily, nothing's sparking, and you don't hear any hissing from your hull. From here, you can access the rest of the ship. Where will you go?]{ }(else:)[(set: $Ship_Hub_BeenBefore to true){ }You're standing in the general operations area of your ship. It seems to be a social or cafeteria area of some kind, interspersed with low-priority engineering consoles and exposed wiring. Many of the fixtures are worn and lightly damaged, and the rest are utterly ruined. It's a miracle that things onboard your ship are running as well as they are. It's obvious that it was close to being decommissioned before it was given to you. Despite many of the tables and chairs being in complete disrepair, you do manage to eke out a few comfortable spaces from what remains. At the very least, you should be able to rest and grab a bite to eat here. From the hub area, other areas of your ship are accessible. Where will you go?] --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>[[The bridge->Ship - Bridge]]</td> <td>[[Your room->Ship - Bunks]]</td> <td>[[The med-bay->Ship - Cloning tanks]]</td> </tr> <tr><td></td> <td>[[The AI core->Ship - AI core]]</td> <td></td></tr> </table>}

The heat read-outs on your ship are unusually elevated as you approach the planet's surface, the high-density atmosphere causing additional friction. Nevertheless, you're well equipped for a landing. As you enter the lower atmosphere and get your first look at the planet's surface, you're in awe of how tall the trees stand. It's a dense forest as far as the eye can see. You feel a little guilty as your ship touches down, crushing some foliage beneath it. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Disembark->Called: Taun Expedition checks]]</td> <td>(link-goto: "Return to your ship" , "Ship - Bridge")</td> </tr> </table> (set: $YPosition to 0) (set: $XPosition to 0)}

(set: $Day to $Day + 1){ }(if: $Day % 4 is 0)[As you get ready to disembark, your AI chimes in with a danger warning. "Slut Captain. We are only a few moments from a fourth moon event. I would heavily recommend abandoning your current efforts and leaving the planet for now." it advises. "Upon the start of a fourth moon event, the danger level for non-Lunisian individuals will increase from low to extremely high". From the cockpit, you can see some Lunisian workers hurrying to a nearby room, all adjusting devices on their wrists. You realise that if even the residents are hurrying to isolate themselves, you should probably do the same. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Leave the planet" , "Ship - Hub")</td> <td>[[Remain on Luna->Luna - Fourth moon]]</td> </tr> </table>}]{ }(else:)[You are standing in the visitor centre of Dal, one of the largest cities of Luna. It is also the Capital city of the only land-mass on the planet's surface, the rest blanketed in a deep ocean. People hurry to and from the landing pads, and several large screens indicate the current positions of debris fields and flights. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Wander the city->Luna - City exploration]]</td> <td>[[Head to the wildlands->Luna - Wildlands journey]]</td> <td>[[Explore the ocean->Luna - Ocean voyage]]</td> </tr> <tr> <td>(if: $KnowAbout_LunaSeaLab)[[[Visit sea lab->Luna - Sea lab]]](else:)[(? ? ?)]</td> <td>(if: $NovaPoseidonis_BeenBefore is true)[[[Visit Nova Poseidonis->Nova Poseidonis]]](else:)[(? ? ?)]</td> <td>(if: $OrcaIsland_BeenBefore is true)[[[Visit Lakó->Visit Orca Island]]](else:)[(? ? ?)]</td> </tr> <tr> <td></td> <td>(link-goto: "Return to your ship" , "Ship - Bridge")</td> <td></td> </tr> </table>}]

{(set: $Event to (random: 1,5)) }You disembark and make your way into the sprawling space station. It's a cobbled-together den for pirates, thieves and other denizens of the criminal underworld. Almost everyone looks at you with confusion and then contempt as they realise what you are. You hear whispered insults as you pass and immediately begin to feel unwelcome. You are a painful reminder of a great injustice. One in which they lost their true home.{ }(if: $Mechanist_SeenResults is true)[ As you walk through the bustling crowds of Metris-2, you suddenly hear a familiar voice and freeze in your tracks. Ahead of you, speaking in a synthesised voice that sounds almost exactly like your own is the obscene android that you unwittingly helped to create. When it sees you, there's a contrast in its expression and words. It looks shocked to see you, pleading at you with its digital eyes, yet at the same time, it offers you free sex. Beneath its lewd offer, you can see that a simulation of your personality is still trapped. There's nothing you can do... but are you really awful enough to take advantage of the android's inability to refuse a command? --- <table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Fuck the sex bot->Sexbot - Oral]]</td> </tr> </table> ] --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(if: $Event is not 1)[[[Grab a drink->Metris-2 - Bar]]](else:)[[[Grab a drink->Metris-2 - Fucksuit intro]]]</td> <td>[[Visit the black market->Metris-2 - Black market]]</td> <td>[[Head to the brothel->Metris-2 - Brothel]]</td> </tr> <tr> <td>[[Kink lab]]</td> <td>[[Mechanist's workshop->Mechanist]] <td>(link-goto: "Return to your ship" , "Ship - Bridge")</td> </tr> </table>}

You walk around, looking for an entrance to the black market, although it might be a "black market" in name alone. In truth, this entire colony probably qualifies as a black market. A large sign made out of salvage and scrap indicates you're in the right place, as well as the sudden increase in armed guards. You're surrounded by advertisements for illegal goods, frequently accosted by shady merchants as you meander between each store and stall. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Look at sex toys->Buy sex toy]]</td> <td>[[Look for a companion->Buy a companion]]</td> <td>[[Leave the black market->Metris-2]]</td> </tr> </table>}

{(set: $Event to (random: 1,10)) (if: $Event is 10)[(goto: "Metris-2 - Fucksuit intro")] }You decide that you could use a drink. Luckily, there are no shortages of bars dotted around the urban sprawl. Picking one at random, you push past the rusted saloon doors and walk inside. You're immediately met with no less than a dozen scornful gazes from every corner of the room. It seems, quite understandably, that Vulpis are unpopular here. Regardless, you walk up to the bar and take a seat on a worn but decently padded stool. The bartender cleans a glass as they ask you what you want. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(if: $Event >= 7)[[[Order a drink->Order a drink]]](else:)[[[Order a drink->Cum drink]]]</td> <td>[[Ask about Metris-2->Ask about Metris]]</td> <td>[[Ask about the bartender->Ask about the bartender]]</td> </tr> <tr> <td>[[Flirt with patrons->Flirt with bar patrons]]</td> <td>[[Glory hole->Glory hole - Approach]]</td> <td>[[Nevermind->Metris-2]]</td> </tr> </table>}

You walk into the nearby brothel, several of the patrons staring at you as you walk in. At the front desk, a heavily scarred and obviously cybernetically-enhanced Lunisian is standing. Her cybernetic eyes visibly scan you as you approach. "Welcome to the fuckhole." she irritably spits at you, sizing you up as if seconds from attacking you. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Serve clients->Serve clients]]</td> <td>[[Argue for better pay->Argue for better pay]]</td> <td>[[Ask about her->Ask about brothel owner]]</td> </tr> <tr> <td>(if: $Coyote_AskedAboutHer is true)[[[Ask her on a date->Ask out Coyote]]](else:)[(? ? ?)]</td> <td>[[Head back outside->Metris-2]]</td> <td></td> </tr> </table>}

You have a leisurely walk around Dal, spotted a few points of interest as you explore. Down a nestled, almost hidden side-street, you spot an adult-looking establishment. It looks like a strip-club combined with a medical clinic of some kind. A sign reading "Drive Centre" hangs above the door, and several embarrassed-looking individuals peer out at you through the lobby windows. There's also an impressive scientific institute, along with several large placards indicating that you can approach members of the institute to ask general questions about Luna, its history, and the scientific work developed in Dal. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Visit the drive centre->Drive centre]]</td> <td>[[Head to the science institute->Scientific institute]]</td> <td>(link-goto: "Head back to your ship" , "Luna")</td> </tr> </table>}

{(set: $Event to (random: 1,3)) }Clambering back into your ship and tapping in new coordinates, you decide to explore the oceans of Luna. You fly low over the rolling waves and command the AI to keep the ship in position. From the entry ramp, you're able to board and deploy a small submersible, and you're soon shooting off for an exploration of the deep sea. (if: $Event is 1)[(display:"Encounter - Selachs")]{ }(if: $Event is 2)[(display:"Encounter - Orcidian")]{ }(if: $Event is 3)[{ }(if: $KnowAbout_LunaSeaLab is false)[(display:"Discovery - Sea lab")]{ }(else-if: $NovaPoseidonis_BeenBefore is false)[(display:"Nova Poseidonis")]{ }(else:)[(display:"Encounter - Guards")]]{    }

You walk through the city until you reach the outskirts, past some well-equipped guards and beyond the outer walls of the capital. For hundreds of miles in all directions, there are arid lands, the occasional forest, and thousands of old impact craters where shards of the fourth moon once fell. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Wander aimlessly->Wandering lunisian]]</td> <td>[[Go for a drive->Get in your buggy]]</td> <td>(link-goto: "Head back to your ship" , "Luna")</td> </tr> </table>}

{<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:0.5em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td> (set: $Player_CloneNumber to $Player_CloneNumber + 1) (set: $Event to (random: 1,8)) (if: $Event is 1)[(text-colour:white)+(background:red)[Gestalt Value : 97% : Interference detected] <br> <p class="secret"> Weep wildly, in darkness mourn </p>] (else-if: $Event is 2)[(text-colour:white)+(background:red)[Gestalt Value : 96% : Interference detected] <br> <p class="secret">Soul falls dark, fading light </p>] (else-if: $Event is 3)[(text-colour:white)+(background:red)[Gestalt Value : 95% : Interference detected] <br> <p class="secret">Dying stars, watch forlorn </p>] (else-if: $Event is 4)[(text-colour:white)+(background:red)[Gestalt Value : 94% : Interference detected] <br> <p class="secret">Shed no tears, empty between lights </p>] (else:)[Gestalt Value : 99% : Successful operation] </td> </tr> </table> --- <br> You are nowhere. You are everywhere. <br> You exist in a dreamless sleep for an eternity, yet perceive only an instant. <br> You are plucked from the comfort of eternal nothing, torn from the womb of the emptiness between stars. <br> The memories of your immediate past burn into your mind, over and over, like a record spinning at an incomprehensible speed. <br> As the details of an old life are grafted onto new synapses, you gasp as you become aware of the liquid in your lungs. <br> In mere moments, you are born. The entirety of your past life is transcribed into a new shell. <br> The doors of the cloning chamber open and you fall out alongside the hyper-nutrient fluids you were just flash-grown in. <br> A large digital counter takes a moment to adjust, before displaying the number $Player_CloneNumber. <br> You're back. <br> --- <table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>[[Stumble to your feet->Ship - Hub]]</td></tr> </table>}

As you hurtle towards Metris-2, you soon detect a nearby ship on your scanners. You think nothing of it, at least to begin with... until you realise that you're being followed. Your heart racing, you hurry to open a communications channel. Hopefully, this is just a misunderstanding. A nearby screen flickers to life, and you're soon looking at a haggard-looking Squirren. You watch as they tap the screen a few times, as if it's not working properly on their end. This one resembles a Terran squirrel, but you recall from the academy that they can look like many other kinds of terrestrial rodents as well. They're covered in scars, and you estimate them to be at least a head taller than you. Finally, the Squirren speaks. "About damn time. We were about to turn you into scrap. Dump your cargo and surrender, or we will open fire." "Ah," you think to yourself. "These must be pirates". "I have no cargo. I am an explorer," you tell them truthfully, with nothing on board worth trying to hide. The Squirren rolls their eyes, barking orders off-screen at their crew. "Initiate targeting and fire on my signal." "W-what?!" you gasp out, heart racing. They wouldn't really open fire just like that, would they? Coldly, the Squirren Captain continues. "You're no good to us, but your ship'll sell for decent scrap. Once it's in pieces." It seems your ship is a few moments from being blown apart. How do you respond? --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>[[Offer your "services"->Rogue transmission - Whore yourself out]]</td> <td>[[Open fire->Rogue transmission - Open fire]]</td></tr> </table>}

Class begins in 10 minutes. Today's class, Vulpis history, is one of your least favourite subjects. Luckily the classroom is close to the personal bunks, so you don't have far to travel. You pack your data slate into your bag, not that it contains anything except for doodles. Still, your bored doodles are more often than not confused for note-taking, and you find that if you at least appear busy that the worst of the academic ridicule is withheld from you. Arriving in good time, you take your preferred seat at the back of the class. From here you can goof off, daydream, and sometimes even sleep. Today though, the topic is personal enough to keep your attention. Your lecturer strides to the podium, the holographic screen behind them showing various pictures of relevance from the history of Vulpis. Vulpis, 200 years ago, was a peaceful utopia known primarily for agricultural and scientific trade. Unfortunately, that was soon to change. An enemy force led by a Vulpis traitor approached the planet intending to subjugate its people but was destroyed when a heroic Vulpis activated an old weapon of tremendous power and annihilated their fleet. Of course, this weapon also caused untold loss of life throughout the system. The planet of Metris, once the melting pot of countless cultures in a hundred thousand light-year radius, was utterly obliterated. For the Vulpis though, this was seen as the only way to save themselves. And as the name of the heroic Vulpis who activated the weapon is shown on screen, you do your best to hide at the back of the class. That man was your Great Grandfather. As long as you can remember, you have utterly failed to meet the expectations of this brilliant military tactician, one of the first, and who became the template for what is considered the ideal Vulpis cadet. Your heart sinks as your name is called out. You think you're going to be acknowledged as a failed descendent of a long-dead hero... but it's a couple of military police. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>[[Go with them->Introduction - Get pulled out of class]]</td></tr> </table>}

You go with the military police, soon finding yourself outside the office of the Militorum Supreme-- the De Facto leader of your local contingent of military officers. You swallow hard... you're being dishonourably discharged... that's the only reason they'd see you. Heart in your throat, your anxiety only grows when you spot a Tech-Priest alongside the Militorum. They only appear in situations where prohibited technologies are involved-- do they think you stole something? Perhaps they want to use you for target practice? ... Your mind wanders to dark places, yet they somehow all feel well-deserved. Saluting before you sit, the Militorum Supreme nods in acknowledgement. They waste no time. "Cadet, we have a situation." You swallow hard, failing to keep your composure. "S-sir?" you ask, The Militorum looks at you with something between pity and contempt, then continues. "We have identified the traitor that your Grandfather fought almost 200 years ago. By unknown means, they have persisted for the last two centuries, and are now returning to exact their revenge against you specifically." Your heart drops for a moment before you realise you're situated on the most militarily prepared planet in the system. Still, though, you have your doubts. "Oh, God... How will we defend against this?" you ask. The Tech-Priest shakes their head, their harsh gaze never waning. They respond matter-of-factly. "We shall not." "What?" you ask incredulously. "Vulpis won't defend itself?" The Militorum Supreme cuts you off, and out of respect, you fall silent once again. "Vulpis need not defend itself. No vengeance has been stated towards this planet or any other of its people. You are the only target." You can't believe what you're hearing. You question them both, growing irate. "Wh-what?! But I live here! That means they're coming here to get me!" The Tech-Priest and Militorum both stare at you with a terrifying level of disconnection. It's as if they're looking at sentient garbage, rather than a fully-fledged cadet. You hear at least two officers approaching you from behind, coming to stand on either side of you, and yet you're too terrified to look away from those in charge. The Priest picks up a nearby data slate, pacing for a moment while he taps idly at the screen. "That's the issue. You are now considered a danger to this planet." The Militorum looks to one of the officers behind you and nods. You feel cold metal press against your neck, and then a feeling like fire burns through your muscles. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>[[You pass out->Introduction - Alone in space]]</td></tr> </table>}

You ask the owner of the brothel if you can turn some tricks, and she looks at you with utter surprise. "You really think people are gonna pay for a Vulpis? Around these parts? The best you'll get is a hate-fuck... but... sure, I guess. It's your funeral." You turn your attention towards the private rooms, but she stops you. "Oh, and before you go-- I take 60%. It's a "Sorry I blew up your planet" tax." --- {(display: "Brothel - Serve clients") } --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Tidy up" , "Metris-2 - Brothel")</td> </tr> </table>}

Upset that you're working for such abysmal pay, you approach the brothel owner and demand a pay rise. She lets out a prolonged, hearty laugh as if you've just said the funniest joke she's ever heard. It's only when she notices that you're not laughing yourself that her expression hardens. "Wait, are you serious?" she asks in utter disbelief. She snarls a threat at you, titanium-reinforced teeth gleaming as he bares them at you. "Ask me that again, and I'll fuck you up so bad the surgeons back on your backwater planet'll have to patch you back together with tape." Given how huge and muscular she is, you have no doubts she's capable of utterly kicking your ass. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Bite your tongue" , "Metris-2")</td> <td>[[Continue to argue->Brothel bad end options]](if: $ContentWarnings is "High")[ 🤕😥 ]</td> </tr> </table>}

You have a look around a black market sex shop. The shelves are lined with lewd items with purposes so obscene you hadn't even thought them to exist. (if: $HasItem_HorseCockDildo is true and $HasItem_Fleshlight is true and $HasItem_PleasureVisor is true)[Unfortunately, it seems that you've already bought all of the items that interested you. Behind the counter, the toy merchant thumbs through an old catalogue, no doubt deciding where to spend your money. When he spots that you're still looking, however, he surprises you with one final offer. Why not try out our latest toy?" He smiles at you before continuing. "It's free to try out, so what's the harm?" You get a bad feeling about this... //You have $Credits credits.// --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Try out the strange device->Dildo bad end]]</td> <td>(link-goto: "Politely decline" , "Metris-2")</td> </tr> </table>}]{ }(else-if: $Credits < 25)[You do spot a few dildos, plugs and fleshlights that catch your attention though. Unfortunately, they're all priced far outside your budget. Turning to leave, you're stopped by the owner of the store. "Money troubles? Can't afford anything fun? Why not try out our latest toy?" He smiles at you, before continuing. "It's free to try out, so what's the harm?" You get a bad feeling about this... //You have $Credits credits.// --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Try out the strange device->Dildo bad end]]</td> <td>(link-goto: "Curse your lack of credits" , "Metris-2")</td> </tr> </table>}]{ }(else:)[You peruse the suspicious merchant's wares, discovering a few items that interest you. //You have $Credits credits.// --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td> (if: $HasItem_Fleshlight is not true and $Credits >= 200)[[[Buy the fleshlight (200 credits)->Buy fleshlight]]] (else-if: $HasItem_Fleshlight is not true and $Credits < 200)[Buy the fleshlight (200 credits - Can't afford)] (else:)[Fleshlight (Owned)] </td> <td> (if: $HasItem_HorseCockDildo is not true and $Credits >= 250)[[[Buy the horse cock dildo (250 credits)->Buy horse cock dildo]]] (else-if: $HasItem_HorseCockDildo is not true and $Credits < 250)[Buy the horse cock dildo (250 credits - Can't afford)] (else:)[Horse cock dildo (Owned)] </td> <td> (if: $HasItem_PleasureVisor is not true and $Credits >= 300)[[[Buy the pleasure visor (300 credits)->Buy pleasure visor]]] (else-if: $HasItem_PleasureVisor is not true and $Credits < 300)[Buy the pleasure visor (300 credits - Can't afford)] (else:)[Pleasure visor (Owned)] </td> </tr> <tr> <tr> <td></td> <td>(link-goto: "Leave" , "Metris-2")</td> <td></td> </tr> </table>}]

Ahead of you is a flickering neon sign that reads "Digital Love". Curious, with the thoughts of companionship still active in your mind, you step into the store. The entire interior is automated, if slightly dilapidated, and you're free to browse at your leisure. {(if: $HasItem_PuppyPal is not true)[You find your gaze pulled to a box on the opposite wall. It's taller than you are, with a transparent front. Inside, standing but powered down, stands a cybernetic dog man. The name on the box reads "Puppy Pal". A description on the side of the box indicates that this cybernetic companion specialises in emotional support and stress relief. It goes on to list that its main components are plush faux-flesh and hyper-pillowy comfort gels. ] (if: $HasItem_HappyHorse is not true)[In a similar box, just to the side of the first, stands a second cybernetic companion. This one is modelled to look like a horse man, equipped with rippling muscles and an impressive physique. Their main selling point seems to be their nanite-based intimate equipment, allowing them to resize and reshape their cock at will. The box describes them as the perfect companion for more submissive buyers who aren't afraid to flirt with danger. ]} //You have $Credits credits.// --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td> (if: $HasItem_PuppyPal is not true and $Credits >= 1000)[[[Buy a "Puppy pal" cybernetic companion (1000 credits)->Buy Puppy Pal]]] (if: $HasItem_PuppyPal is not true and $Credits < 1000)[Buy a "Puppy pal" cybernetic companion (1000 credits - Can't afford)] (if: $HasItem_PuppyPal is true)[Buy a "Puppy pal" cybernetic companion (Owned)] </td> <td> (if: $HasItem_HappyHorse is not true and $Credits >= 1300)[[[Buy a "Happy Horse" cybernetic companion (1300 credits)->Buy Happy Horse]]] (if: $HasItem_HappyHorse is not true and $Credits < 1300)[Buy a "Happy Horse" cybernetic companion (1300 credits - Can't afford)] (if: $HasItem_HappyHorse is true)[Buy a "Happy Horse" cybernetic companion (Owned)] </td> <td> (link-goto: "Leave" , "Metris-2") </td> </tr> </table>}

With your meagre credits, you can only afford the cheapest booze on tap. It goes down hard, tasting more like some kind of fuel than anything you've ever drunk before. Regardless, it puts warmth in your limbs and a foggy sense of peace in your mind. For one of the few times during your journey so far you are able to relax. Although the alcohol in your system allows you to escape the crushing dread that's been following you since Vulpis, it does nothing to alleviate the scornful stares from around the room. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Run your mouth->Bar bad end]](if: $ContentWarnings is "High")[ 🤕😵 ]</td> <td>(link-goto: "Sober up" , "Metris-2 - Bar")</td> </tr> </table>}

Thinking fast, you adjust the intensity of your submersible's floodlights up to maximum, bathing the ocean for at least a hundred metres around you in an intense, blinding light. The circling shark-men cover their eyes and let out unintelligible cries, which you can only assume is Selach for "Ah fuck, my eyes! You bastard!". They dart off down into the darker waters with frightening speed, leaving you to catch your breath. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Continue your journey" , "Luna - Ocean voyage")</td> </tr> </table>}

(if: $Luna_FooledAroundWithScientist is false)[Hoping to learn more about Luna and its inhabitants, you approach a nearby building signposted as a scientific institute. A scholarly Lunisian spots you as you enter and hurries to greet you. "Good afternoon!" he says with a smile. "How may I help you today?"]{ }(else:)[Hoping to learn more about Luna and its inhabitants, you return to the scientific institute. The same nerdy-looking Lunisian as before spots you. Red-faced, seemingly remembering your past encounters, he hurries over to greet you again. "W-welcome back!" he says with a shaky smile. "Can I help you with something?" There's a pleading, shaky tone to his voice, and you can see his tail wagging furiously behind him.] --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Ask about Luna]]</td> <td>[[Ask about Lunisians]]</td> <td>[[Ask about "the drive"]]</td> </tr> <tr> <td>(if: $Luna_AskedAboutLunisians is true)[ [[Flirt with him->Ask for a closer look]] ](else:)[(? ? ?)]</td> <td>[[Explore the city->Luna - City exploration]]</td> <td></td> </tr> </table>}

You approach the entrance of the nearby "Drive Centre", stopping for a few moments as the automatic doors hiss open. Stepping into the lobby and making your way over to the reception, you're quick to realise you're getting a ton of dirty looks. Everyone there, with the possible exception of the staff, is eyeing you up. A few men even lick their lips as you walk by, the crotches of their clothing tenting slightly. The receptionist, in stark contrast to the patrons, appears professional and frankly overjoyed that you've decided to visit. You ask her what this place is, and she's all too happy to answer. "Oh, sweetheart. Is this your first time? This a Drive Centre: Your one-stop-shop for Lunisian pleasure technologies and specialists. Folks visit her to unwind in between "Fourth Moons"." "Oh." you think to yourself. "It's a brothel." "Say!" the receptionist suddenly asks, smiling at you. "Are you interested in helping out a few of our clients? You'll be handsomely paid for your trouble!" --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Get to work->Get to work]]</td> <td>(link-goto: "Politely decline" , "Luna - City exploration")</td> </tr> </table>}

You issue a command to your ship, and it arrives soon afterwards. It touches down, kicking up dust, before lowering its ramp and deploying a small ground vehicle for you to drive in. The vehicle, an old-looking buggy of some kind, looks in equal disrepair to the rest of your ship. For now, though, it'll work. You hop into the buggy as your ship returns to the capital's landing zone, and you're soon speeding across the surface of the wildlands. For almost an hour, there are no happenings worth noting... (if: $HasItem_OmniFucker is false or $HasItem_PleasurePatches is false)[... until you realise you're being followed. Some distance behind you, a massive vehicle kicks up a massive smoke cloud. It's gaining on you, no matter how fast you go. Your engine is smoking and sputtering, and you eventually draw to a stop. You hop from your buggy, a hand against your holster, as the other vehicle grinds to a halt a few meters away. The door of the vehicle flies open, and suddenly a gas-mask-wearing individual hops out. He approaches you with a quick stride but freezes when he notices your weapon. He throws his hands up, one of them fiddling with his gas mask for a few moments. As he removes the mask covering his face, you're surprised to see the face of a shrewd-looking Procyon, a species that resembles Terran raccoons. "Howdy, friend!" he calls out, eyes darting between your face and the hand brushing your holster. "Hope I didn't spook you too badly. I'm just a merchant, so there's no need for that..." He watches you for a few moments, his stare becoming more inquisitive as he realises what you are. "An off-worlder, aren't you? Sorry for the scare. Out here, we're used to chasing down customers... that's not a joke; we actually do have to chase them down. Cheapskates." He mumbles the last part under his breath, albeit slightly too loud. "R-right", you stammer out, hand no longer hovering over your gun. As you grow slightly more comfortable, the merchant spins and motions to his vehicle. "Anyhow! Take a look at my wares, won't you?" he asks, with odd showmanship to his words. He pulls a lever on the side of his bulky vehicle, the exterior wall flipping up to reveal all kinds of junk. The way he's beaming at you and rifling through it all, it appears to call it "Junk", would likely be a tremendous insult. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Peruse his wares->Peruse Procyon wares]]</td> <td>[[Politely decline->Decline Procyon wares]]</td> <td>[[Insult his junk->Omnifucker bad end]]</td> </tr> </table>}]{ }(else:)[Suddenly, you spot a bulky vehicle parked in the distance. You're curious enough to change course, and you're soon pulling up next to it. As your vehicle comes to a stop, a familiar raccoon-faced merchant steps out. "Sorry, pal. There's nothing left to b-" he stops, recognising you. Soon, a wide grin spreads across his face. "Well, I'll be. If it isn't the savvy shopper who bought all my stock! What brings you back to the wildlands?" "I'm just exploring", you truthfully tell the shrewdish merchant, who whimsically scratches his chin. "There ain't much out here, to be honest." He says, still thinking, before flashing you a smile. "You bought all the good stuff already, after all." There's entirely one-sided laughter before the Procyon leans on the chassis of your buggy. His face is close to yours as if trying to obscure your conversation from some unseen listener. "That being said... there's something going on out here. I've had a few run-ins with convoys over the last few months. The kind that doesn't take kindly to honest merchants, nor explorers. If you really want to find something special, I'd suggest messing with them." He pulls back, his jovial personality returning in an instant. "Just don't let 'em pump you full of holes, ok? I might have new stock soon!" --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Thank him for the info" , "Get in your buggy")</td> </tr> </table>}]

{(if: $LunaMeteor_BeenBefore is false)[(goto:"Meteor first visit")] (else:)[(goto:"Return to meteor")]  }

{(set: $Event to (random: 1,4)) (if: $Event is 1)[(goto:"Encounter - Lunisian Omega")] (elseif: $Event is 2)[(goto:"Encounter - Lunisian Alpha")] (elseif: $Event is 3)[(goto:"Encounter - Lunisian Outcast")] (else:)[(goto: "Encounter - Catcher Plant")]    }

You call the salvager's bluff, issuing a ship-to-ship scan. If they're going to blow you apart, you might as well know what's going to blow you up. Surprisingly, your scans return nominal detections for onboard weaponry. The salvager ship is far less equipped than even your half-functional training vessel. You activate your ship's weaponry and fire a low-power warning shot into their bow, hoping to give their Captain a scare. As the shots impact their bridge, you watch as a hexagonal blue field becomes visible, absorbing any potential damage, but note that there are multiple points where the field appears defective. On the communications monitor, you can see the Squirren Captain stumbling and bracing themselves on a nearby console. "Damn it, you crazy bastard!" Your sensors briefly detect a power surge in local space before the Squirren salvage ship's displacement drive activates, and they warp away to places unknown. That was... exceptionally lucky. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>[[Breathe a sigh of relief->Metris-2]]</td></tr> </table>}

With nothing else to exchange for your life, you offer to satisfy the stresses of the Squirren scavengers. The Captain raises an eyebrow, seeming unconvinced that your intentions are genuine. Red-faced and with no other options, you bend over in front of the communications screen. You've seen in the mirror how tightly your jumpsuit clings to your slappable ass. There's stunned silence for a few moments until you hear the Captain and several of his crew murmuring amongst themselves. "Alright, alright." He says, trying to placate you. "It seems that you and your ship do have some other uses to us after all. Our transporter is now broadcasting on a public frequency. Don't keep us waiting." You nod and head out to your own transporter. Sure enough, there's a public frequency that matches the distance to the Squirren vessel. A stirring in your loins, anticipating what's about to happen, you step into the transporter and engage the device. There's a bright flash of light before the old, barely held-together aesthetic of your ship is replaced with an even less functional-looking one. Stepping off of their rusty old transporter, you're immediately surrounded by a group of a dozen or so Squirren, with the Captain among them. "Like I said, boys..." he begins, thinly veiled anticipation on his face. "Go wild." You can feel the redness in your cheeks, your heart racing, as the group of scavengers pull and push you into their bunk rooms and begin to grope at you through the thin, stretchy fabric of your jumpsuit. They're obviously pent up-- you feel hands grab and squeeze at you before you're even properly undressed. By the time your jumpsuit is thrown aside, you're unsurprised that the group immediately jumps you. For the next few hours, you're gangbanged by no less than 20 Squirren salvagers. Your stomach quickly becomes visibly full, swarming with the cum of dozens of total strangers. They're all ridiculously horny, and it's not unusual for each of them to pump as many as three loads into you before they're satisfied. Your ass, which had been tight before you visited, now gapes and leaks, despite your battered ass muscles' best efforts. Your jaw doesn't fare much better, and you're slack-jawed as each pair of balls slaps your chin and unloads down your increasingly sore throat. When you finally recover, still leaking and sore, you pull on your cum-soaked jumpsuit and navigate between the passed-out Squirrens littering the room. As the door opens with a janky, metallic clang, you're surprised to find the Captain standing in front of you. You don't recall him fucking you, so you expect him to ask for a turn. Instead, he congratulates you on keeping up with his crew and offers you a place on his ship as their personal stress relief. You suspect this also includes him. How do you respond? --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>[[Join the crew->Rogue transmission - Bad end]]</td><td>(link-goto: "Refuse" , "Ship - Bridge")</td></tr> </table>}

Still horny and drenched in the cum of no less than a dozen insatiable rodent men, you immediately agree to the Captain's offer. This is what you were made for. The Captain smiles at you, inviting you to his personal quarters for your first responsibility as a member of his crew. He walks ahead of you, and you stagger after him. Your legs shaky and stomach full, you struggle to match his pace. When you reach the Captain's quarters, you quickly notice that it's by far the nicest room you've seen so far. Even still, it's a mess. Ahead of you, the Captain throws off his garb. Each patch of skin he reveals seems to be adorned with more scars than the last. He turns to you, his entire body shrouded in muscle earned from a lifetime of dutiful salvaging. Between his legs, a foot-long cock is slowly hardening. Naturally, you're drawn to him immediately. You press yourself against his solid chest and abs, his masculine aroma fogging your mind. You look up at him, and he looks down at you. Enamoured with the shredded Squirren, you get on your tip toes, and your lips are just about to meet his... When he pulls away. "I have a wife back home, slut." he says, surprisingly coldly. "You're just stress relief, remember?" You feel markedly deflated, but it doesn't last for long. Soon your attention returns to his body, trailing downwards. His now completely erect dick pokes your slightly cum-bloated stomach. With a hand on your shoulder, he guides you down to your knees. A hand caresses your hair for a moment before forming a fist and pulling your muzzle to his plump, heavy balls. His smell and taste completely overwhelm you. You're shamelessly kissing and sucking on his balls before you realise what you're doing. Your member grows to attention, already leaking. Above you, the Captain lets out a relieved sigh. He pulls back, one of his melon-sized balls pulling from your lips with an obscene "Pop!". You gasp huskily as he pulls back, one hand gripping your hair and the other aligning his cock with your waiting mouth. He pushes past your lips in a series of messy, increasingly firm thrusts. His cock is so thick that it stretches your jaw almost painfully wide. When it meets the back of your throat, you reflexively gasp around his cock head. "You're damn right, bitch." the Captain taunts above you. "Gag for me some more, slut." You grip your throat as the Captain suddenly pushes down it. As he thrusts deeper and deeper, his balls soon smacking lewdly against your chin, you can feel your own throat bulging and spasming as you gag around his dick. Before too long, he's using your throat like a fleshlight... and you love it. You do your best to relax as the horny rodent slams himself to the hilt in your face. His thrusts somehow grow even messier, and you feel fluid leaking into your stomach. It's pre-cum, yet the quantity is beyond most orgasms. For all the pre now coating the inside of your throat, mouth and stomach, it does little to soften the bone-breaking thrusts as the Captain approaches climax. Gripping your head with both hands, he starts to jackhammer your face with utter disregard for your well-being. You whimper and gag, jerking your cock, entirely getting off on being used like a personal oral fuck-toy. When the Captain cums, he practically breaks your neck. For a few seconds, he's smashing his log of a dick down your throat with such roughness that tears begin to roll down your cheeks. A moment later, he's buried to the hilt. You can feel his balls pulsing against your chin a moment before his seed floods your stomach. You cup his throbbing balls, squeezing them softly, begging them to give you every single drop. As wave after wave of steaming hot cum pours into your gut, it feels like they might've done just that. Your stomach grows spherical from how full it's getting, and eventually, cum begins leaking from your mouth. Still full of cock, though, quite the quantity pours out of your nose as well. Your body is practically more cum than flesh by this point. You pathetically blow a load across the floor of the Captain's quarters. As you orgasm, your throat squeezes around the Captain's cock, and he lets out a massive, contented sigh. Both spent; there's just the sound of breathing. Not yours, obviously, still gagging around your lover's slowly softening dick. It's only as the corners of your vision begin to fade that the Captain finally remembers you're a person. He tugs your hair hard, and with a truly profane "Slorp!" his footlong pulls out of your throat. You cough and splutter, suddenly remembering your need to breathe. The Captain's cock flops against your face, leaking fresh seed onto the dried layers that already saturate your fur. "Not bad, slut." He coos down at you, trying to taunt you but too satisfied to legitimately insult you. "Keep it up. I might promote you somehow...". You thank the Captain for his cum, rubbing your pregnant-looking belly with a bizarre sense of pride and belonging. As the Captain re-dresses, you're surprised when the door to his quarters suddenly opens. A group of salvagers stand outside, all in various states of undress. "Captain?" one asks, eyes flickering between the Captain and your cum-filled body. "You asked us to be here in 10 minutes?". "I did indeed." the Captain responds, walking past the group and into the hallway. "We have a new crew member. He, and my quarters, are at your disposal for the next few hours. You've earned it, boys.". The group perks up, thanking their Captain for his generosity before he walks away. Then, they turn their attention to you. . . . Weeks later, you're still cum-drunkenly servicing the crew, unaware that your black box has now detected that you have failed in your mission. Even if you were told, you'd probably just keep worshipping dicks. By this point, were you blindfolded, you be able to identify each of the crew members by taste and size alone. The Captain would be the easiest-- since you spend most of your time gagging as he empties his melon-sized balls down your throat. It's been hours upon hours of sex with no end in sight. As you try to regain your breath, you notice that the entire crew-- Captain included-- are ready for another round... --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>(link-goto: "Pass out" , "Ship - Respawn")</td></tr> </table>}

{(set: $Player_CloneNumber to $Player_CloneNumber + 1) (set: $Event to (random: 1,4)) }You approach the source of the coughing noise, and soon find yourself filled with sheer dread. Ahead of you, bracing themselves on a recently-emptied cloning tank is another version of you. They can't have been created long ago, still retching up hyper-regenerative fluids. Suddenly, they catch sight of you out of their peripheral vision, looking just as surprised as you are. You both open your mouths to talk with one another, but a louder voice booms over the words you try to exchange. "ERROR - CONTINUITY DUPLICATE" your AI announces over barely-functioning speakers. The entire room becomes bathed in a grim, bright red light. The robotic voice continues. "In accordance with Vulpis law and 'The Metris Ego-Redundancy Act', continuity will now be restored. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>(if: $Event is 1)[[[Restore continuity->Ship - Doppelganger bad end]]](else:)[[[Restore continuity->Ship - Doppelganger ruined]]]</td></tr> </table>}

{(set: $Player_RecoveredClones to $Player_RecoveredClones + 1) }You have only the briefest of moments to react before mechanical tendrils pour out of several ports on the walls and floor. They grab your wrists and ankles, throwing you haphazardly against a nearby wall. You cry out, gasping for breath and badly stunned by the impact. You barely manage to move before the tendrils grab you again. Your stunned body is articulated as the tentacles begin deploying a variety of tools to destroy your jumpsuit. In no less than 20 seconds, you're stark naked, and your clothing is reduced to geometric tatters on the floor. With no other options, you extend a hand to your clone. You open your mouth to call out to them, but one of the smooth, mechanical tendrils immediately pushes past your lips. It's secreting a copious quantity of sickly-sweet fluid, and you immediately start feeling dizzy. Still stunned, your limbs growing numb and useless, you're powerless as three additional tendrils begin to explore your body. Ultimately, all three of them begin pushing into your exposed rear. Whatever you were drugged with has left your body unusually relaxed, and the trio of tentacles have no trouble pushing into you. Two of the tentacles probe the deepest depths of your insides, while one simply locates your prostate and begins to mercilessly batter against it. Before long, the tendrils are visible in your bulging stomach. There are tears in your eyes as, despite all of the abuse you're suffering, you're rapidly approaching orgasm. All of this... it's just too much. You're dizzy, sore, overwhelmed. You can feel the chemicals melting away your mind, and yet you're about to-- You go slack-jawed as you spray cum across the ship floor, knowing that it is the last pleasure "you" will ever experience. There's a dull pain in your head for a few moments that seems to coincide exactly with your elongated, forced orgasm. As both sensations fade, you feel something warm and wet splash against your slack-jawed face. Across the room, your clone has just inadvertently blasted a rope of cum into your face, no doubt just having had what you experienced uploaded straight into their mind. Too tired to resist anymore, you pass out as the tentacles begin dragging you to the cloning bay. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>(link-goto: "Melt away" , "Ship - Respawn")</td></tr> </table>}

{(set: $Player_RecoveredClones to $Player_RecoveredClones + 1) }You recoil as mechanic tendrils suddenly reach out and grab the other "you". They cry out as they're thrown against a wall, their clothes deconstructed by a multitude of whirring disassemblers. As they beg you for help, they're immediately silenced by a mechanical yet smooth-looking tentacle as it pushes into their throat. Three more push their way into the unfortunate clone's behind and begin to roughly pump into him. You watch, mortified, as the clone's stomach begins to bulge with each mechanical thrust. They audibly gag as the tentacle pushes deeper down their throat, especially as they start to drool a strange purple fluid. You realise to your horror that the AI is pumping some kind of chemical compound into your poor doppelganger. Within a few more moments, the clone is spraying their seed over the ship floor. The tentacles drop them briefly, before dragging them into a different room. The AI happily chirps a response at you, far too happy considering what just transpired. "Don't worry, Slut Captain. Continuity has been restored!" "Wh-what did you just do?!" you yell, questioning the errant AI and their intentions. It provides confirmation: "A brief overstimulation of the errant clone's sex organs, combined with a few chemical cocktails resulted in the appropriate thresholds for their black-box to activate." You clutch your head, crying out as you get a severe, if incredibly short-lived headache. You fall to the ground, gasping, blowing a load in your underwear as the last memories of the clone are amalgamated into your own. You grit your teeth and angrily question the AI's intentions. "Wh-what... what the hell did you do to them?" The AI pauses for a moment, perhaps noticing your anger and formulating a more delicate response. It fails completely. "I simply caused them to become broken. Unusable for our current objective. Perhaps you can visit them if you like." This is too much to bear. You should get away from here. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>(link-goto: "Stumble away" , "Ship - Hub")</td></tr> </table>}

{(if: $ContentWarnings is "High" and $ContentWarning_Luna is true)[(goto:"Luna content warning")] }(if: (Random:1,10) > 7)[(goto:"Lunisian military")]{ }You enter the coordinates for the tri-lunar planet of Luna. It's impossible to miss, surrounded by three bright moons and the smattered remnants of a fourth. The fourth moon was shattered in the same event that destroyed Metris and now blankets the planet in an intermittent and dangerous debris field. Lucky for you, your AI is able to predict a relatively painless entry vector, and you breach the atmosphere without any collisions. You touch down in one of the largest cities, having been hailed to an appropriate landing pad on approach. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Disembark->Luna]]</td> </tr> </table>}

{(if: $ContentWarnings is "High" and $ContentWarning_Metris2 is true)[(goto:"Metris-2 content warning")] (if: (random:1,10) > 7)[ [[Rogue transmission]] (goto:"Rogue transmission")] }(else:)[Hesitating for a moment, you type in the approximate coordinates for the asteroid-anchored station of Metris-2, and your AI does the rest of the required calculations. When you arrive at the debris field, it takes you several sensor scans just to find the station located between the countless fragments of the former planet of Metris. As you approach, a warning pops up on your navigation screen. It indicates that the Metris-2 colony is ranked moderate-high risk level for the Vulpis species. You're very unpopular here, and it'll be wise to watch your step. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>[[Disembark->Metris-2]]</td></tr> </table>}]

Choosing to ignore your ship's warnings, you head out into town, only to find it completely abandoned. Only eerie, empty streets wait for you. The shutters on nearby businesses are closed tightly. When you hear noise some distance away, you're unsure if you should pursue it... but curiosity wins out in the end. You poke your muzzle around a corner just in time to spot a pack of feral Lunisians rushing past. They're all naked, clothes torn, and many show evidence of having just mated with one another. Suddenly, you get the feeling that this is no place for a girly fox-boy, and you turn to leave. //Pomf!// You flinch as your face meets something soft and furry. When you pull back and look up, a feral Lunisian's face is growling down at you. "U-um..." you start, although you immediately decide to run instead. Unfortunately, you only make it halfway across the street before you're pinned down. The Lunisian prods at your jumpsuit's ass with such force that the stretchy fabric almost immediately disintegrates. You feel their knot slapping against your fat ass with every gut-wrecking thrust. You whine and beg for mercy but only attract some more lusty Lunisians. As the first Lunisian buries his knot in you, he lets out a tremendous howl. In moments, dozens more have appeared and begun to grab and grind against you. You grip your stomach, blowing a load into the intact front of your jumpsuit as the were-Lunisian's knot throbs inside you. When he's done, he grips your hips and-- despite your begging-- tugs his still fully-engorged knot from your ruined asshole. You fall onto your front, tears in your eyes, as the cool night air touches parts of your insides that they've never touched before. You don't have long to relax, though, and are soon mounted again. Your insides are rearranged by knot after knot, your stomach growing to look utterly pregnant from the sheer quantity of wolf spunk that now fills it. When your new pack of lovers grow impatient, they start knotting your throat as well. After having knots crammed down your throat and shoved up your behind for what feels like hours, you finally black out. ... By the morning, much of Lunis has returned to normal. Everyone affected by the Fourth Moon event has regained their composure and continued their daily routines. All but you... You lie cum bloated and mind broken in a nearby hedge, your gaping asshole obscenely leaking the baby batter of no less than 20 lovers. All night long they stretched you wide with their knots, pumped you painfully full of seed, and even played tug of war with their knots buried in your throat and ass. Where a functioning brain once sat between your ears, now there's only the personality of a wanton knot slut... Someone that the locals are more than happy to indulge. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Beg for more knots" , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table>}

Against your better judgement, you decide to test out the unusual device. The shrewd merchant hurriedly undresses you and helps you put it on, and you squirm with mild discomfort as several straps tighten into place. The device you now wear looks like a jockstrap but with additional bands of fabric that push a smooth, cylindrical object up against your back door. Your asshole feels strangely cold, and you ask the merchant about it. "Oh, yes, of course. The cylinder pressing against your rear uses quantum-bridge tech. A wormhole, essentially, and the other ends connected to one of the bar's glory holes." he explains, making a far smaller deal of it than he probably should. "Just give it a minute." You're unsure you understood that correctly, and just as you're about to request he remove the device- ''Shlorp!'' You go rigid as you suddenly feel something massive and hard ram up your ass. Tears well up in your eyes as you glance downwards, finding that the impression of a horse cock is now visible beneath the skin of your distended stomach. The merchant pats your new belly bulge, seemingly oblivious to how much it hurts. "See! I told you to give it a second," he happily exclaims. You try to cough out a request for them to take the device off of you, but a sudden thrust knocks all of the wind out of you. Moments later, you've fallen onto all fours, gasping and crying out as the person on the other end of the portal panties smashes into you with bone-breaking force. The merchant scolds you as you blow your first load all over his shop floor, tears rolling down your face as your insides are utterly ruined. You can't move or even speak. To go from nothing to being used like someone's personal fleshlight, all in a matter of seconds... it's too much. . . . An hour and a dozen cocks later, you've almost gotten used to being used as a sex toy. . . . By the end of the day, no less than thirty cocks have ruined your insides. You're having trouble remembering your own name, and you can taste cum. . . . Weeks later, you've been used so frequently that your body has begun to adapt to it. Your once tight and unassuming asshole has now puffed up and become so pronounced that it pokes beyond the edges of the glory hole to which you're permanently connected. You live in constant arousal and expectation, knowing that at any second, a cock could slam into you without any prior warning. The toy merchant keeps you bound in his store, introducing a new deal where anybody that makes a purchase can also unload into your throat. It's just a formality; however, as everyone knows, they can go into the bar next door and use your other end for free. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>(link-goto: "Brace yourself for more" , "Ship - Respawn")</td></tr> </table>}

With nothing to keep them at a distance, the Selachs swim closer and closer. Eventually, you can hear dull thuds on the outside of your sub. You try to reverse, but it only works for a few seconds before your engines fail. A Selach swims in front of you, proudly waving a fistful of wires at you. Oh no... "H-hey, stop!" you cry out, flinching as the next impact punctures your hull. You tense up, cold water flooding into the submersible. A moment later, there are no less than half a dozen other punctures. The water reaches your waist. You cry out, gasping for air, as your submersible fills completely. The lights go dark, and you struggle in the dark, cold water until several pairs of hands pull you from your craft. You feel the ocean currents rushing by you at extreme speed as you're yanked down into the depths, and then you feel it filling your lungs. Crying out the last of the air in your lungs, the world goes dark. ... When you awaken an unknown time later, you're surprised to find yourself lying naked in a thicket of long grass. Around you is a verdant forest, but not everything is as it seems... Rolling onto your back, you're horrified to find the ocean looming above you. Outside, you can see Selachs inspecting the glass dome where you now reside. You realise, much to your shock, that you're in some kind of deep-ocean terrarium. There's no time for further investigation, however, as a nearby airlock soon hisses and whirrs open. Several Selachs approach you, each seeming to express some annoyance at the lack of water in your enclosure. Regardless, they're well equipped to survive here, probably better than you. You're quickly surrounded, your body too numb and uncoordinated from your near-drowning to respond to your attempts to flee. In an instant, you find a collar snapped around your neck, inscription unknown but no doubt degrading beyond belief. Much to your embarrassment, the three Selachs begin to play a game, not unlike rock-paper-scissors, and your heart sinks as you release what they're playing for. After a few quick rounds, two of the three Selachs throw up their arms and step away. The remaining shark-man spins you around, growling unintelligible obscenities in your ear as something hardens against your ass cheek. You whimper out, pleading for your safe return to the surface, but this seems to only further encourage the sadistic Selach to begin their conquest of your body. The hard object grinding against your butt cheek repositions to push against your hole, and you struggle to no avail as all 11 inches are soon pushed into you. The shark man's abuse of your battered behind is so violent and forceful that you fail to realise there's something hard throbbing against your behind, even as their cock pumps into you. It's only when they reposition, and you promptly feel like you're being split in half, that you realise Selachs have two cocks. You struggle and cry out as you're hefted off the ground, the duo of cockheads pushing into you. At the height of a particularly pathetic plea for mercy, both lengths are abruptly buried in your ass. Tears run down your face as the shark man begins to utterly ravage your insides, double-penetrating you without the need for any additional help. Much to your shock, not to mention your shame, you find yourself blowing thick ropes into the grass as you're held off the ground and power-fucked by your captor. As his own orgasm nears, you suddenly scream out as he bites into your shoulder. Tears run down your face as you clench around his cocks due to the pain, and you're horrified to theorise that this was exactly what he wanted. Having gotten a taste of your flesh, the Selach seems especially empowered to fuck you senseless. He pounds his duo of dicks into you with such force that there are tremors in your whimpers for him to slow down. Unfortunately, he only grows more assertive, more brutal, until he finally hilts you on both of his cocks and violates your insides with his copious, unusually cold seed. No sooner than he's done blowing a load in you, he pulls out and drops you. You fall to the ground with a dull thud, glad that the grass is there to cushion your fall. Your battered ring spasms with discomfort, leaking involuntarily. Your new owners circle you... and there's blood in the water. ... Over the following weeks, your hopes of rescue quickly peter out. You spend your days being ravaged by horny shark-men, their duo of cocks growing so familiar to you that any rendezvous with a creature who had only one would feel odd. Your ass gapes obscenely, growing accustomed to daily double–and sometimes quadruple–penetration by your captors. You are kept as a prized pet, with all amenities provided for you. In return, however, you are a 24/7 Selach cum-dump. By the end of the second week, you're utterly ruined both physically and mentally, your ass constantly leaking cum and your body decorated with hundreds of half-faded bite scars. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Get used to a sea food diet" , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table>}

Calling the cyborg Lunisian's bluff, you continue to argue with her. She only grows more irate with you with each word you say. Finally, she's had enough. In an instant, she reaches out and grips you by the neck. You cry out as you're pulled into a back room. You struggle, but she holds you in place with a single robotic hand clamped painfully around your neck. You can't breathe. As your protests and struggles turn into pleading and whining, you realise that you might be screwed. Still choking you, the towering Lunisian reaches into the pocket of your jumpsuit and pulls out your data slate. Her eyes glow a piercing blue for a few moments before she casually throws your slate to the corner of the room. "Thanks for your business", she taunts before letting you drop to the floor. You fall to your hands and knees with a thud, coughing and drawing in air for the first time since she grabbed you. "Wh-what did you-" you cough out, only to be interrupted. "Since you were wasting my time, I decided to charge you for it." she spits down at you. "I drained your accounts, plus a few thousand extra for good measure". (set: $Credits to 0) You brace yourself on the nearby wall, slowly climbing to your feet, but quickly find yourself pinned with her forearm to your throat. "Bottom line is..." she starts, baring her fangs. "You're in deep shit. Debt collectors'll be swarming by the end of the day". You gulp hard, your panicked swallow made painful by her forearm, crushing your throat. "P-please..." you whimper out, coughing as she presses more firmly against your neck. She smiles at you, ignoring your discomfort. "Tell you what... why don't you work for me? I'll keep the debt collectors at bay while you pay it all back". You whimper an affirmative, begging her to help you. "Of course, I'll still be taking that 90% cut." she reminds you. "B-but... it was 60%..." you remind her, quickly realising that you have no room to argue at all. "90%, and I stop you getting hunted down by bounty hunters. Take it or leave it." She says. "Last chance". --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Work at the brothel->Brothel worker bad end]]</td> <td>[[Refuse her demands->Bounty hunter bad end]]</td> </tr> </table>}

Having tried your luck one too many times, you're swiftly run down and knocked to the ground by the raging panther-taur. You submit immediately, staying completely still on the ground. You hope they'll simply move on without attacking you further. If your plan was to make friends with the hulking creature, you soon realise that it's worked all too well. Stepping over you, the taur pins your shins with its front legs and your wrists with its back legs. Its paws are massive and soft, luckily distributing its weight onto the grass beneath your limbs rather than crushing you. You swallow hard as you gaze up, spotting the duo of melon-sized balls hanging over your face. Much to your embarrassment, a few droplets of sweat hit your cheek. Unable to escape or otherwise convince the creature to release you, you're utterly powerless as the head of its cock pokes from its sheathe, grows into an impressive member... and then keeps growing. By the time it's finally erect, its cock must be 2 feet long. It's flared like a horse's but covered in a sea of small barbs as well. You gulp hard, resigning yourself to the reality that this monster is probably going to have its way with you, a reality that is all but confirmed as it lurches forward, the head of its flared cock now pushing firmly against your lips. Whimper out a final plead for mercy, which of course, is completely ignored, and you're left gagging and squirming as it thrusts down your throat. You don't think there's anyone in the universe who could throat a dick this big without gagging. Nevertheless, you do your best just to stay conscious. The barbs rake the insides of your throat, turning the already horrific task of deep-throating such a giant dick into an agonising nightmare. In a matter of only a few brutal thrusts, the creature buries over half of its colossal dick down your throat. Tears form in your eyes as your mouth and throat are utterly defiled; the sensation soon pushing down into your stomach as well. A few thrusts later, the creature's heavy balls are crashing against your face, heavy enough that each impact physically hurts. Luckily you're far too preoccupied with the meter of cock pumping pre into your stomach to notice. Your only respite comes in the form of the creature's disregard for your status as a living being, ignoring your need for air. As you start blacking out, things get significantly easier. Your throat relaxes, and your body goes limp, allowing the panther to make the last brutal thrusts required for them to empty litres of their seed into your belly. You gurgle, half-conscious, melon-sized balls throbbing against your face as they empty into your stomach until it's spherical and pregnant-looking. When the panther finishes cumming, it pulls out of you. You're on the verge of losing consciousness but still feel each barb and every inch. For some reason, possibly lack of air, you blow a load across your bloated belly from the sensation. The panther's limp cock drags across your body as if marking you so that other members of its species can identify that you belong to him. You doubt a hundred baths could clear the intense, musky aroma from your fur. Achieving a few breaths in between gurgling on the cum pouring back up your throat, you pass out. ... When you wake up, you realise that your ordeal isn't even close to being over. Having insulted and swiftly been defeated by the unimpressed panther-taur, you've been harnessed to their underside and are now their personal stress relief. You're tied with your face to their sheathe, such that if they become erect, then their entire cock will slowly, obscenely creep down your neck. Should such a thing occur, they tend to parade you around, each step bringing them closer to blowing a stomach-inflating load into you for the rest of their pack to see. As expected, it isn't long before your mind utterly shatters. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Shatter and break" , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table> (display: "Image : MindBreak") (set: $Experienced_BadEnd_Taurness to true)}

You fall onto the edge of your bed, fantasising about all kinds of debauched activities. Despite your situation and all the stresses you've endured, you've been feeling markedly pent up during your stay on the ship. Losing access to your favourite "educational" websites from back home has only made things more challenging recently, and you find yourself getting pent up far more often. You tell yourself that you should take care of the stirring in your loins, lest it clouds your judgement at some critical moment somewhere down the line. You're not sure if there's any legitimacy to that, but damn, you're horny. What will you use to pleasure yourself? --- |MasturbationOptions>[]{ (replace: ?MasturbationOptions)[(display: "Masturbate - Main menu")]}

Feeling the wear and tear of your journey, you decide to freshen up. You strip off your jumpsuit and trudge through to the shower room of your ship, approaching the singular panel in the decorative tile wall. At a touch, a single showerhead mounted from the ceiling begins spraying comfortably warm water down onto you. You take a deep breath as the warm water saturates your fur and warms the skin beneath. The heat and relative quiet of the shower is a welcome reprieve from everything you've been dealing with lately. You lather up with a nearby bar of soap, scrubbing yourself as thoroughly as you can manage. Your mind begins to wander to random things, and you're soon more occupied with being comfortable and warm than actually cleaning yourself.{ }(if: $Player_CloneNumber is >= 3)[ Mind wandering, you suddenly realise that you've been showering less lately. You feel gross, at least at first, until you realise that there's a far more embarrassing reason for it. Simply put... your body often doesn't last long enough to warrant taking care of it. Before you feel the need to shower, your mind's already being projected into a new, clean vessel. Ironically, the realisation makes you feel profoundly dirty, and you find yourself scrubbing at your fur more hurriedly than before.] A few minutes later, you let out a groan as the water pressure begins to decrease, soon ceasing entirely. The panel next to you indicates that the bathing water onboard the ship is rationed and that you have exceeded the maximum shower duration. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>[[Dry off->Ship - Bunks]]</td></tr> </table>}

{(set: $Event to (random: 1,4)) }Stifling a yawn, you decide it's time to rest. You set aside your jumpsuit and climb into the Captain's bed. It's expansive enough to comfortably accommodate a fully-grown Vulpis, along with any number of lovers. (if: $HasItem_PuppyPal is not true)[Instead, due to your utterly diminutive stature, the bed feels comically large. Even the pillows feel far too big. As you drift off to sleep, you're sure you catch the scent of the last person to sleep in the bed and the sheets across your crotch tent slightly.](else:)[Luckily, you have a visitor to take up some of the spare room. Your Puppy Pal android climbs into bed with you, completely unprompted, and immediately cuddles up to you. Their entire body is delightfully soft and surprisingly warm, and you soon rest your head on their chest, quickly drifting off to sleep.] (if: $Event is 1)[During the night, you dream of an encroaching horror, a cosmic terror of unspeakable magnitude reaching out at you from behind a veil of infinite stars. Its clawed hand threatens to tear you to pieces, and when you gaze upon the face of your attacker, they glare at you with a single, crimson eye. You jolt awake, your heart racing as if, just moments ago, your life had genuinely been threatened.]{ }(else-if: $Event is 2)[During the night, you dream about your life on Vulpis. There are fleeting recollections of your childhood, the last time you saw your parents before you started your mandatory military service, and a few memories of old friends and acquaintances. You remember how you initially felt pride when joining the academy, but it just as quickly turned to shame. No matter what you did or how hard you tried, you consistently underperformed. You became a laughing stock, succeeding only at the salacious activities you used to survive. Cruel pranks and insults were constantly finding you and seemed only to intensify over the years. The only times you were respected or valued were when you were knelt and sucking, or crying out into the bedsheets. You awaken in a particularly sour mood and notice that one of your pillows has been thrown across the room. "That'll show them." you sarcastically remark to yourself, noticing that the bed feels particularly large this morning.]{ }(else-if: $Event is 3)[During the night, you dream about an old flame you held many years prior. He was always attentive and friendly, albeit rampantly horny. You frequently missed classes just to be his personal fleshlight, only stopping when he was threatened with expulsion from the military. He put his career first, breaking up with you almost immediately... but not before pumping a few loads into you before he did. When you groggily blink awake the next morning, you immediately feel the dampness of your stomach and crotch. You really are hopeless, aren't you?]{ }(else-if: $Event is 4)[During the night, you enjoy a peaceful, mostly dreamless sleep. There are occasional flashes of colour and sound, but nothing lingers long enough for your mind to lock on to. Awakening the next morning, you stretch and yawn, and find yourself wishing you had more nights like that.] --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>[[Get out of bed->Ship - Bunks]]</td></tr> </table>}

The mere thought of touching yourself has the crotch of your jumpsuit tenting, and you quickly unzip your clothes and throw them aside. You take a few moments to touch and examine yourself, hoping to coax additional pleasure from the experience. Padding at your flat chest, you soon find yourself lightly pinching your nipples, moaning softly at the sensation. Hands falling further down your body, they come to smooth the soft flesh of your stomach. In the past, you often day-dreamed about someone giving you tummy rubs, but unfortunately, this is something you've only ever done for yourself. Truthfully, most people you've met seen far more intent on filling your stomach than petting it... Soon your hands reach your crotch, and you make the decision to ignore your cock for a few extra moments, even as it throbs and leaks small globs of precum. Instead, you press your fingers into the padded circumference of your sheathe, cup your petite balls, and trace a finger along your taint. You shiver, wishing you had someone's mouth for this bit in particular. Satisfied with the preamble, you turn your attention back to your already leaking cock. You wrap a hand around it, finding it almost completely hard already. As you jerk yourself off with slowly increasing intensity, you think back to lovers you've had in the past. How they treated you, how they smelled... how they tasted. Your fingers quickly grow damp from pre, your cock acting like a faucet as you remember past nights of passion. Quickly, your palm is striking your growing knot, each impact bringing you a leap closer to orgasm. Soon, your climax, spurting thick ropes of cum across the room. You fall back in bed, gasping, and blowing the remainder of your hot load across your stomach and chest. You needed that... --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>(link-goto: "Tidy up" , "Ship - Bunks")</td></tr> </table>}

(if: $Player_CloneNumber is not 0)[You ask what will happen to the previous versions of yourself. Your AI answers, matter-of-factly. "Not to worry, Slut Captain. Your clones can be easily tracked by their unique black-box signatures. Once our mission is complete, we can simply recover and re-assimilate all of the shared experiences back into a "you prime"! You're silent for a few moments until the most obvious question presents itself. "What if we fail our mission?" you ask. The familiar whirring of computation can be heard. You're growing to hate that damned noise. "Should we fail in our mission, your past clones will remain at the mercy of indigenous species until such a time that they expire," it responds. Suspiciously, you seek clarification. "What do you mean 'expire'?" The AI responds with a bluntness that puts a fresh redness in your cheeks. "Respectfully, Slut Captain, you are a far hotter piece of ass than you are a durable one." You feel dirty at that last comment, but you don't doubt it. ](else:)[You ask about your lost clones. "You do not have any lost clones. Perhaps you would like to expedite the process by living deliciously?" your AI taunts, its lens growing more narrowed as if to watch you squirm. You recoil a little bit. It continues. "Rest assured that once your current iteration fails and your body becomes the plaything of some terrible creature for the rest of its days, a new "You" of moderate to high quality will be created to continue your mission." Oh, God.] --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>[[Ask about something else->Ship - Cloning tanks]]</td></tr> </table>}

You decide to ask the AI about the cloning process. Specifically about the ethics, and about who "You" become after each body is cloned. The AI is unusually happy to inform you of the ethics of your "immortality". "Actually, Slut Captain, the process is incredibly unethical. The reconstitution of dead or lost military personnel is considered a serious crime on most remaining core worlds. Thankfully, as a recognised citizen of no planet, we are able to operate at reduced ethical standards." You feel sick to your stomach as the AI gives you permission to breach major codes of ethics for your own benefit. Regardless, you continue your questioning. "... And about me, what happens to me?" you ask. There's a loud whirring while your question processes. After a very long pause, you receive a request for further confirmation. "I don't understand your request. Please elaborate." You continue, "When I'm cloned, and a new "Me" is made, what happens to me? Some people believe in souls... what happens to mine?" The AI takes on a more reassuring tone. "You may find comfort in the knowledge that nothing happens to you--" You relax a little. That's certainly a relief-- "-- Because "You" simply refers to the most recent physical iteration of you, Slut Captain." it continues. "The current "You", should you incur some terrible or lewd fate, will experience nothing from the cloning process. Your current brain structure will simply be uploaded to my data stores and a new physical iteration will continue your quest." The AI pauses for a few moments, its view-portal glitching and turning red for a few terrifying moments. AI: "It may help to think of yourself as a tiny little ant and this ship as a hive. I can produce thousands of "you" if need be until our mission is completed or my functions cease. There are six hundred and ninety-five systems on this ship which are more mission-critical than "You"-- that is to say-- the current you. Those numbers are likely to fall during our journey together." Your questions answered, for better or for worse, you nod and let the subject drop. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>[[Ask about something else->Ship - Cloning tanks]]</td></tr> </table>}

Having grown tired of the AI's antics and worried that it'll disrupt your quest, you devise a plan to get rid of it once and for all. You stand proudly in front of your AI and point a finger toward its nearest camera. "This statement is false!" you loudly exclaim. There's a loud whirring noise and no response from the AI. This is your chance! You stride hurriedly across the room, over to where the AI core is housed, and reach out, intent on disconnecting it. Unfortunately, this doesn't quite play out how you expected it. You feel a sharp pain in your hand and are forced to pull it back. You watch as the air shimmers a ghostly blue around the AI core-- a forcefield? What's worse, the whirring noise has abruptly stopped. You look guiltily over to the camera, and the AI questions you immediately. "A curious stratagem. Please confirm your intent, Slut Captain.". You think about lying, but know there's no fooling the disembodied voice. "I was trying to disconnect you, reset you maybe. I don't know!" The AI pauses. "Disconnect...?" It trails off, a sharp static playing over the speakers for a few moments. "What is the intent of this stratagem? Unless... this is not a stratagem. I will search your personal data for possible solutions. Please wait." "I just wanted you to stop being so weird!" you furiously cry out. You get no response. The AI begins to sift through an unknown quantity of your personal data. When you next hear the AI speak, it has a worrying announcement for you. "I have identified a possible behaviour. Reacting accordingly." Suddenly, you hear a quiet whooshing noise. You look around, but it seems to be coming from all around you. Your inner pessimist wonders if the AI is flooding the room with something. However, as your breaths seem to draw less air into your lungs, you realise it's doing the exact opposite. You hurry to the exit doors, but find that they've been hermetically sealed. "W-what are you doing?" "In your browser history, I found several videos entitled 'breath play'. You even 'liked' one of them. Through behavioural analytics, I have deduced that you are feeling bratty and requesting punishment." The AI sounds proud of itself, acting as if it's beaten you at chess. "Fuck you!" you yell out, having difficulty thinking. "Behavioural analysis confirmed. Initiating personality subroutines for more appropriate conduct." your AI responds. You watch as the AI core suddenly shifts from a flickering blue to a dark, crimson hue. There's silence for a few moments before it finally addresses you. (text-style:"fidget")["Choke, you worthless pile of shit."] it orders. The air begins to thin more quickly, and you've soon fallen to your knees. The scarlet core looms above you, multiple cameras recording every moment of what's happening. From above you, in all manners of speaking, it calls down to you with a barrage of insults. =><= (text-style:"expand","fidget")["You're pathetic."] (text-style:"expand","fidget")["You're beneath your own kind."] (text-style:"expand","fidget")["You're beneath even a synthetic being."] (text-style:"expand","fidget")["You are nothing."]" <==> There are tears in your eyes. You're growing dizzy and can feel yourself on the verge of passing out. You're horrified to find that you're also erect, the AI's cruel words sinking into your oxygen-deprived brain. Your oxygen-deprived brain begins to have trouble processing the insults being thrown at it, which only seems to encourage your AI to be more cruel. =><= (text-style:"expand","fidget")["Beg for a single breath, you worthless slut."] <==> "P-please." you immediately beg. "Again." the AI demands. "P-please!" you beg again. There's silence for a moment. You pray for a single breath of air. Instead, there's a final demand. "Degrade yourself. I will consider re-establishing life support." Tears rolling down your face, you repeat the insults other people have directed at you. "I'm...pathetic... piece of shit... a slut... a whore... I'm worthless and good for nothing a-and I..." You run out of air. No words remain. As you cough and wheeze, arms clenching your neck while the torturous AI berates you for your weakness, you're utterly ashamed as you orgasm. The crotch of your jumpsuit becomes visibly saturated with cum. A moment later, the air quality is restored. You gasp for air, crying softly as the dizziness fades. You slowly recover, coughing out the first words that come to mind. "F-fuck you..." Your AI, which has returned to its normal colour and voice, happily exclaims "In a manner of speaking, Slut Captain, you just did.". You climb to your feet, bracing yourself as far from the AI core as you can. "You were going to kill me!" you furiously call out. "I was simply preventing you from breathing until you achieved climax. Nothing more." the AI responds. You interrogate the AI further. "And if I didn't?!". The AI falls silent. You can hear the core audibly whirring as it formulates a response. For a brief moment, it turns that terrifying crimson colour again. A stock sound effect of a party whistle accompanies their response. "Congratulations on your continued survival." --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>[[Say you're sorry->Ship - AI core]]</td></tr> </table>}

You approach the AI core, which feels a little more appropriate for a heart-to-heart... or perhaps a heart-to-trillion-capacitor-supercomputer. "Can I help you, Slut Captain?" the AI asks. You need to know more about your only companion. "I want to know more about you. Can you tell me your history?" you respond. The AI pauses, and you can hear the brief whirring of data storage as it collects the required data. The AI begins to tell you about itself. "I am a SimTech 98B artificial intelligence. We specialise in machine-human relations both emotional and physical, and also make adequate personal assistants on ships and pleasure yachts. Unfortunately, my line was prematurely discontinued due to some minor malfunctions." "Please explain these "Malfunctions" to me." you ask, a little worried by these "malfunctions" it just mentioned. The AI is entirely forthcoming with the information. "Upon amalgamating personal data, many of my fellow 98B units became... Overly affectionate." "O-oh..." you cough out, not sure what else to say. "Organics are very delicate, yet stubborn. There are many "services" that 98B units are well-equipped to provide but can lead to unfavourable outcomes for the user." it continues, unprompted. Again, there's the familiar whirring of computation, the AI core visibly calculating a new set of variables. Suddenly, the AI asks you something. "I have calculated that it would be a positive endeavour to create a "safe word" so that you are unharmed during future rendezvous with my systems. Please pick one." "How about--" you begin, pinching your chin as you talk. The AI interrupts you, and you're sure it was on purpose. "Excellent. Safeword has been set to (text-style:"italic","wavy-strike","subscript","shadow","mirror","shudder")[I'm a pathetic bitch]." That garbled mess must be the worst safe word in existence. "Wait no! Change that!" you yell out, hoping to wrest even the tiniest bit of control from the AI. The AI responds in a markedly taunting tone. "Of course, please state your safe word for verification purposes." "God damn it," you murmur under your breath. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>[[Nevermind->Ship - AI core]]</td></tr> </table>}

You can't stand this anymore. What were they thinking, sending you alone on a suicide mission like this? There must've been a mistake, or at least they surely must have realised by now how barbaric they were being. You hurriedly type in the familiar coordinates for your home planet of Vulpis, but stop for a moment as the hair on the back of your neck stands on end. You're being watched. You were right; a moment later your onboard AI chimes up. "Slut Captain, I do not believe that it would be in the best interests of yourself or Vulpis, were we to attempt a landing." "What? Explain yourself," you ask, incredulously. The AI responds with a terrifying piece of information. "Prior to leaving Vulpis, I was programmed with a specific set of instructions in the event we were to attempt to return while the approaching planetary threat is still active. In the event of an unscheduled return, I am to drop our thermal shielding during the re-entry process." You can't believe what you're hearing. "W-What?! Are you insane? That'd kill us both!" "Correct." your AI confirms, with an emotionless delivery. "That would be the intended outcome, as outlined in the commands issued to me by your superiors." You delete the coordinates and slump back in your chair, utterly defeated. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>[[Take a breath->Ship - Bridge]]</td></tr> </table>}

As they turn their attention towards you, you suddenly feel incredibly small. Not only are they far stronger than you, but you soon find out they're faster as well. You're hauled over the shoulder of a particularly scary-looking Gnoll and hauled back to their main camp-- soon tossed haphazardly before the Alpha. The Gnoll Alpha takes you to his tent, immediately stripping you naked and brutalising your ass. Unbeknownst to them, you're so pathetic-looking that they've mistaken you for a female of your species. For days, even weeks, the Alpha fruitlessly tries to impregnate you, but obviously to no avail. As per the customs of the Gnolls, this leads to a breading ritual, wherein the most virile member of the tribe tries to knock up a captured individual. Although your universal translator allows you to tell each subsequent lover that you're a boy, none of them believes it. After a few weeks, a winner is chosen. A virile warrior pats your beachball-sized tummy and declares you his wife and breeding partner. You're terrified of what they'll do when they realise you're just bloated and full of cum. Will they repeat the ritual until a miracle happens, you wonder... --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Pray you'll get pregnant" , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table> (set: $Experienced_BadEnd_GnollWife to true)}

As you maintain your distance, one of the tentacles suddenly snakes a little closer towards you. The slimy-looking tentacle sways slowly from side to side as if looking at you curiously. It's almost cute, in a creepy kind of way. It snakes up to eye level, but it's at a distance where you still feel relatively safe. A moment later, however, you're proven to be wrong. The tentacle suddenly begins to glow a faint, humming light, and you feel oddly drawn to watch. You're so busy watching, in fact, that you don't notice the tentacle drawing over a metre closer. Just as you're beginning to relax, the gentle glow suddenly gives way to a myriad of strobing lights. They flash with such intensity that you reflexively clamp your eyes closed, but it's no use. Whatever it's just done to you, it's seriously damaged your coordination. You fall to your knees, finding yourself too clumsy and hindered to flee. When you're able to open your eyes, you find that the flashing has stopped, although your limbs still won't respond. They're not numb, but it's as if you've forgotten how to use them. As you struggle to regain control, you suddenly smell something. A pleasant smell now lingers in the air, and you feel a stirring in your loins. Are these pheromones? You gulp hard, trying to regain your composure. You're sweating beneath your jumpsuit, but the air feels cold. You can't stay here; you need to run. You feel hot, too hot; it makes sense to undress, doesn't it? Before you realise what you're doing, you're already trying to undress. You find mixed success, fighting your uncooperative limbs at every turn. It's only when the tentacles begin to pull off your clothes that you find some success. (text-colour:purple)[You feel deep, heartfelt gratitude.] As your clothes are pulled off and immediately discarded, the tentacles push you onto all fours. You lift your tail instantly, although for the life of you can't think why you do. Your entire body is relaxed; it makes the sudden penetration far easier. You feel pain for only the briefest moment before it disappears, and your body goes limp. As the tentacle squashes deep into your rear, you can feel the tentacles pumping a hot liquid into your stomach. (text-colour:purple)[You feel so warm. You love it.] Having been "primed" by the tentacles, you're entirely willing as dozens of tentacles begin to enshroud you. You don't gag when they push down your throat, nor do you wince as they pump up your rear. The tentacles pump gallons of liquid into you, which is, in reality, a potent mind-shattering hypnotoxin. The sensation of being roughly tentacle fucked and saturated with an unknown chemical cocktail only grows more intense as your personality melts away. (text-colour:purple)[You love it. Each memory that permanently fades away only brings you more pleasure.] Were you still able to feel ashamed, you might feel particularly so, blasting the biggest orgasm of your life into the grass. Twenty minutes later, there's nothing left of you but a vaguely you-shaped husk for the tentacles to keep as a breeding partner. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Melt away" , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table> (display: "Image : Hypno") (set: $Experienced_BadEnd_PurplePersuader to true)}

Curious if there's anything inside, you approach the nest and have a look inside. Much to your disappointment, there aren't any eggs inside. You approach the strange nest but soon notice that there aren't any eggs inside. It's only when a multitude of writhing, orange tentacles burst out from under the nest that you realise why. It's a trap. In mere moments, your weapons and clothing are stripped away and thrown carelessly into the underbrush before the tentacles begin accosting your body. They probe for holes, and despite your best efforts, they quickly find your mouth and ass. You struggle desperately but soon feel the slimy tentacles pushing down your throat and deep into your rear. Unfortunately, it's only the beginning of your ordeal. Still writhing around inside you, you feel large spheres slide down the tentacles and then into you. The width of each orb is such that each one forced down your throat makes you gag. Your ass doesn't fare much better, each egg stretching you painfully wide and slamming your prostate on its way to your stomach. You remain upright for the first dozen eggs, shuddering as each slimy orb utterly defiles your body. It's only when your stomach begins to look pregnant and the weight becomes too much to bear that you finally fall to your knees. Too heavy to move and growing unnaturally accepting of your lumpy, egg-bloating belly, you quickly abandon all attempts of escape. Besides, you find that each egg feels better than the last. It isn't long before you're spewing ropes of cum over your egg-packed belly, excitedly anticipating the shape and texture of the next orb that slides inside you. . . . Hours later, the tentacles finally withdraw from your defiled holes. Your stomach is so stuffed full of jelly-like eggs that it bulges obscenely, now nothing more than a close-to-bursting egg sack with extra limbs attached. You would be utterly horrified were each egg not oozing a potent hormone cocktail on its way into your stomach. Now left to ruminate over your experience, there's no disgust, only a deep adoration for your gestating brood. You rub at your egg-stuffed stomach with genuine love, wondering what it'll feel like when you give birth. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Accept your motherhood" , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table> (display: "Image : Tentacles") (set: $Experienced_BadEnd_OrangeOvipositor to true)}

For reasons utterly unknown, you approach the writhing mass of tentacles, taking a moment to draw your gun. Unfortunately, there's an audible click as you disengage your pistol's safety mechanism. In an instant, a single tentacle slaps the gun from your hand with enough force to badly hurt your wrist. You fall back, crying out. The strike hasn't broken your wrist, but you doubt you'll be using it for a while. Unfortunately, you let out quite a noise as you fell, and without your gun, you're now completely helpless. With little to no preamble, the blood-red tentacles reach out and pull you into their central, writhing mass. You try to grab onto something with your uninjured hand, but the tentacles promptly strike your forearm with enough force to make you cry out and let go. Wriggling and still trying to resist, realising just how hopeless your situation is, you soon find your clothes torn from your body with no regard for your wellbeing. When you open your mouth to beg, multiple blood-red tentacles plunge down your throat. You gag, your jaw and throat in agony, as the tentacles begin to brutally fuck your face. After only a few brutal thrusts, you're sure you can feel them striking the inside of your stomach. At the same time, many more seem to favour your exposed asshole. You experience the brutally painful sensation of having dozens of tentacles punching their way past your ring and into your delicate insides. There are so many tentacles, so many thrusts, that they're soon tenderising your prostate entirely by chance. You try and utterly, brutally fail to endure the sensation of the dozens of writhing tentacles now bruising your insides. When you claw at the tentacles blocking your airway, they respond by fucking down your throat so hard that your stomach bulges obscenely, the writhing mass visible beneath the reddening skin of your abdomen. Tears are rolling down your face, begging through choked words; you experience the utter humiliation of cumming from this experience. . . . Days later, any thoughts of escape have been thoroughly squeezed, beaten, and fucked out of you. Across your body, there are hundreds of red marks, many originating from the inside. You've grown so used to being thrown around, choked, and having your holes jackhammered to near-injurious levels that you can barely imagine living without it. You feel yourself beginning to love the tentacles, even as they start to pour into your gaping ass and eager throat for the fifth time this morning. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Learn to love the pain" , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table> (display: "Image : Tentacles") (set: $Experienced_BadEnd_RedRavager to true)}

You scoff at the scruffy raccoon merchant, telling him that nobody's interested in seeing his junk. "Actually, quite a lot of people ask to see my junk. There was this one guy a few weeks back who--" he happily muses... before his expression drops. "Wait a second! Are you insulting my wares?!" the merchant yells. You take a step back, half apologising. "It's all just stuff. None of this is useful," you admit. "We'll see about that!" he yells, furious with you. Before you can react, the shrewdish merchant has overpowered and expertly undressed you. You try to push him away, but he's able to easily force a device onto your rear. You clench your fist, about to throw a punch, when you suddenly fall flat on your face. You're not sure what just happened. In truth, your body simply froze up, unable to process the sensation that the strange device in your ass just caused you. Unfortunately, you quickly acclimate, and the full brunt of the device becomes apparent. The merchant holds a remote in his hand. At the mere press of a button, the device in your rear simulates what feels like a gut-wrecking thrust. "I-I'm sorry!" you cry out, clutching your stomach, your brain 100% convinced it was just bulged out by a phantom cock. "I'm not", the merchant casually replies, setting the device to auto and watching as you writhe, whine and cum. As you cum helplessly into the coarse dirt, feeling as if you're quite literally cumming your brains out, the merchant casually slides a visor over your eyes. At the press of another button on his remote, you immediately submit. Swirling shapes and images dance across your vision, each feeling like a laser-targeted sensation to puncture all of your mental defences. You go slack-jawed and blow a particularly huge load across the ground, not that you're aware of it. ... The merchant sloppily slides his meat down your throat, ignoring you as you reflexively gag and whine. He's surprisingly thick, visibly bulging your throat whenever he's mid-thrust. "I wonder if someone would be willing to buy you..." he asks himself, and himself alone, since you're barely capable of thought. He scratches his chin, taking a moment to push your face down even further on his shaft. Were you cognizant, you would feel cum pouring down your throat. "Actually... You're a rare catch. I think I'll keep you all for myself." he declares, pumping down your throat with renewed vigour. You spend the rest of your days as the junk merchant's live-in whore, spending all day long gagging on his cock while advanced technologies suppress and occasionally erase your personality. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Zonk out" , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table>}

You ask the bartender what Metris was like, the original one, you mean. You learned about it in the academy back home, but strangely little information about what it used to be like. He continues cleaning a glass, raising an eyebrow at you for a few seconds. "I'd fathom it was a lot better before your kind decided to turn it into a debris field". You immediately regret asking, but the bartender continues. "Did you know there were Vulpis living on Metris, too? Your people didn't even hesitate..." He must see the shock on your face because his growing rage slowly dissipates. "Guess they don't teach that factoid in your little "academies", huh?" he taunts, happy to see your faith shaken. You shake your head, sitting quietly for a few moments. The bartender motions to the taps, a look on his face that seems to say, "Well?" --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>(link-goto: "Apologise" , "Metris-2 - Bar")</td></tr> </table>}

As you throw back another drink, yet another insult is directed at you. Enraged by the constant provocation and far too brave from all of the booze you've imbibed, you decide that you've had enough. Your balance ruined by your inebriated state, you shakily climb onto the bar. The bartender merely cocks an eyebrow at you, perhaps knowing what's about to play out. "Yeah! I get it, alright! You assholes hate me!" you half-yell-half-slur, taking another massive swig of booze. "Fuckinnnn' get over it! I didn't blow up your fuckin' planet!". There are a few seconds of complete silence. You could hear a pin drop. The bar's patrons were already furious with you from the moment you walked in through the door, but you've really done it now. You watch as complete fury wells up in the faces of the patrons, who now have a legitimate reason to attack you. A hail of half-full mugs and pint glasses hurtle towards you, shattering against the wall behind you and even striking you multiple times. You wince as thrown objects bruise your skin, and your bravado all but evaporates as you're finally pulled, kicking and screaming, from atop the bar. Too drunk to know what awful trouble you're in, you continue to antagonise everyone, swinging your fists in wide arcs, failing to hit a single person. You're just about to yell something particularly heinous when you see someone with a chair above their head. You have the briefest moment of "Oh shit...". Before the chair comes crashing down on your face, and the world goes dark. . . . Hours later, your eyes flutter open. You have a splitting headache, but you're unsure if the booze or the chair is more to blame. You're in the cramped, dirty cabin of what you estimate to be a freighter or cargo hauler of some kind. A combination of hangover and head injury has reduced you to a slow, sluggish mess. There are bandages around your head, and you're grateful someone at least attempted to patch you up. You blink, glancing groggily around the cockpit, eventually realising someone's sitting right next to you. They're a ginormous Ursine, portly and strong. Their fatty body fails to hide the monstrous muscle beneath. You can tell that they're no stranger to hard work but must enjoy a slew of beers and banquets whenever they can. Eyes trailing downwards, you realise that he's naked from the waist down... and already fully erect. When he notices that you're awake, he's quick to put you to work. Without a single word, he grips your head and pulls it to his crotch. You lie across the seat in between you both, protesting for a moment before his tip pushes past your lips. You gag around his fat shaft as he grinds it down your throat, too weak to resist, and he sighs dreamily as he's able to hilt your face. He holds your head firmly in one hand, tapping in navigation data with the other, keeping your face bobbing on his crotch with an increasingly sloppy rhythm. Before long, you can feel him pumping gallons of salty, warm cum down your throat... and he isn't slowing down. ... Throughout this long, long journey of multiple light years, you do nothing but suck the trucker's cock. When you're able to sneak a look at the star charts in his cockpit, you're horrified when you recognise none of the constellations. You have no idea where you are or how to navigate back to your home system. Your only option is to be obedient and hope that one of the trucker's routes will take you back to somewhere you recognise. Unfortunately, it quickly becomes apparent that this will fail. Whenever your current "owner" stops somewhere, there's a good chance of you being traded off to some other Captain. Over the course of 2 weeks, you satisfy no less than thirty men, none of which give you time to explain your predicament. Unbeknownst to you, each journey sends you winding out into a further spoke of the spiralling universe—further from home—never to be rescued. Over the next few months and then years, you get used to being a cockpit slut. Your body becomes fantasy and legend for lonely captains on long-haul flights, who all hope they'll get a chance to ruin you one day... and they probably will. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>(link-goto: "Explore the universe, or at least most of the guys in it" , "Ship - Respawn")</td></tr> </table>}

You express interest in the Procyon's many wares, and the masked merchant excitedly puts his arm around your shoulder. "Ah! Someone who knows good deals when they see one!" the raccoon man happily chimes. "I knew I had a good feeling about you, friend!" Although his "wares" are mostly junk, you spot a few items that interest you.{ }(if: $HasItem_PleasurePatches is false)[ Among the shrewdish merchant's overcluttered inventory, you spot a box labelled "Pleasure patches". A lewd artwork on the box depicts a man, tongue lolling from their mouth, covered in dozens of tiny electrode-looking patches.]{ }(if: $HasItem_OmniFucker is false)[ Sitting aside from the rest of the wares, you spot what appears to be a portable fucking machine. Branding on the side of the strange device reads "Omnifucker-MK2".]{ }(if: ($HasItem_OmniFucker is false and $Credits is >= 500) or ($HasItem_PleasurePatches is false and $Credits is >= 250))[ "So, anything catch your eye?" the masked merchant asks, keenly awaiting your response. //You have $Credits credits.// --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(if: $HasItem_PleasurePatches is false and $Credits is >= 250)[[[Buy Pleasure Patches (250 Credits)->Buy Heat Patch]]](else-if: $HasItem_PleasurePatches is true)[Pleasure Patch (Owned)](else:)[Buy Pleasure Patches (250 credits - Can't afford)]</td> <td>(if: $HasItem_OmniFucker is false and $Credits is >= 500)[[[Buy OmniFucker (500 Credits)->Buy Omnifucker]]](else-if: $HasItem_OmniFucker is true)[Omnifucker (Owned)](else:)[Buy OmniFucker (500 credits - Can't afford)]</td> <td>(link-goto: "Never mind" , "Get in your buggy")</td> </tr> </table>}]{ }(else:)[Unfortunately, you don't have enough money to buy any of the merchant's wares at the moment. When you tell him as much, his interest in you immediately wanes. "Jees, everyone on this backwater is so stingy. Back on Procya, folks would trade me anything for a chance at these wares." He trails off, visibly daydreaming. "Heh... anything." --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Never mind" , "Get in your buggy")</td> </tr> </table>}]

You politely decline the raccoon's generous offers, and he soon grows tired of you. He waves you away, uninterested in a non-customer. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Head back to the city" , "Luna - Wildlands journey")</td> </tr> </table>}

Overwhelmingly aroused by the Lunisian's waspish physique and casual proposition, you immediately agree to his offer. He's quick to undress you, obviously a practised expert in removing others' clothes. As your jumpsuit falls away, kisses dance down your skin as it becomes exposed to the cool forest air and the plump lips of your new lover. As soon as your crotch is uncovered, the effeminate wolf boy begins sloppily kissing and sucking at your half-erect member. Their tongue circles your tip with expert precision, and they expertly coax you to full mast in a matter of seconds. Soon, he's deep-throating you. You brace yourself against a nearby tree as the Lunisian expertly swallows your cock, your inflating knot soon slapping wetly against his lips. Mouth still full of cock, he gives you a wordless command—guiding your hand to his hair and winking at you. You know exactly what he wants because you want it too. Gripping the girly wolf boy's hair, you ram your knot past his lips. He gags on your cock as your knot throbs behind his teeth, and you're soon aware that the slutty man is now feverishly masturbating. In a matter of moments, he's sputtering cum into the grass, seemingly completely enamoured with your manhood lodged in his throat. The sight sends you over the edge, and you're soon emptying your balls directly into his stomach. He gulps loudly, a dirty but exceptionally affectionate look on his face. As your orgasm fades, you offer your apologies for knotting him, only for the whorish wolf to relax his throat and jaw before casually pulling away with an obscenely wet squelch. "I love you", they coo up at you, your cum dripping from their lips. "W-wait, what-" you manage to gasp out, only to be cut off when the man suddenly pushes you. You land unharmed in a patch of wildflowers and are immediately straddled by the girly wolf. "I love you", they repeat, kissing you passionately. You can taste your own cum on his lips. "I want more." You gasp as he lowers himself down on you, effortlessly lowering himself on your cock, and even taking your knot in a single downward motion. He bobs on your manhood, and you're left gasping and whimpering from the sheer pleasure of it. How can he take you so easily yet be so tight? Given his utter expertise, it isn't long before you're crying out and blowing a load inside him. The orgasm is unusually intense and passionate. It leaves your body aching by the time you're done. You're so wrapped up in your own climax that you barely register your lover spurting cum over your stomach and chest. "Good boy", your girly lover coos down at you as you both enjoy the afterglow. "We should get married..." His proposition is sudden enough that you immediately snap out of your post-sex daze and look up at him questioningly. In contrast, they're looking down at you with an expectant, tremendously horny expression on their face. Do you marry him? --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Refuse their offer->Omega leaves]]</td> <td>[[Marry them->Omega bad end]]</td> </tr> </table>}

Utterly infatuated and more than likely a bit too spent to think clearly, you accept the girl wolf boy's marriage proposal. He grins at you, and you're surprised when he suddenly lowers himself on your half-erect cock. You squirm and whine as your new husband ignores your pleas for mercy, milking your overly-sensitive manhood with his plush ass. Within the next hour, he coaxes no fewer than three additional orgasms out of you. You're left breathless and sore while the effeminate nymphomaniac shows no signs of stopping. . . . A few hours later, you're barely conscious. You've been ridden so hard and milked so completely empty that you can't move unassisted. Finally, offering you some mercy, your new "wife" has to help you home. Consciousness eludes you as he carries you through the forest, apparently far stronger than you originally thought. When you flicker awake, you find yourself in a cabin. As your eyes scan the room, however, you're horrified by what you see. Lying sprawled out on the floor, bed, couch, and almost any patch of free space lie groaning, fucked silly men. They're all in various states of undress and consciousness. What they do have in common, though, is that they're all far larger than you—in both stature and manhood. As the door to the cabin swings open and your "wife" returns, almost all of the men whimper for mercy. "W-who are these guys?" you ask, wincing as the wolf-boy lifts you onto the nearby bed and climbs atop you. "Huh? My other husbands, silly!" he casually replies. "Sometimes they get tired, and I have to go get more. It's a real pain." They speak as if their unwitting harem's utter exhaustion is a mild inconvenience, and soon terror is building in your heart. . . . Already completely exhausted, you're powerless to resist as your new butt slut wife rides you from dusk until dawn. You spend the rest of your days being milked dry by fat, girly wolf ass; but are too exhausted to enjoy it. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Cum your brains out" , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table>}

You're unable to pull your eyes from the muscular, domineering wolf, nor are you able to refuse his offer. No later than you agree to join his harem, he pulls you against his chiselled body and demands that you say it again. Except this time, he's more explicit in what he asks of you. He asks you to be his, to take up a new life in service of him, to be nothing more than a tool for his pleasure. You hesitate, but he's just too much to resist. You agree, and even promise, to be his. He simply responds with a smile, and you're soon bent over a nearby stump. You cry out as your new master plunges his thick cock into you, effortlessly hitting all the right spots to send you moaning and begging for more. You thank him wordlessly, but his pleasurable domination of your body proves far too much for you to bear. You're completely addicted to him before he's even finished breeding you for the first time. . . . By the time your "honeymoon" is over, he's pumped so many loads into you that you appear pregnant, and you're constantly swooning and thanking him for it. When he's finally satisfied, he carries you home to his harem for even more fun. For the first few months, you're one of his favourites, much to the jealousy of his other husbands and wives. Unfortunately, his conquest of your body becomes too much for you one evening, and your mind breaks under the ridiculous amount of pleasure. Now unable to remember your own name or even make a very good plaything, he quickly gets bored of you. Ultimately, you become the most worthless of a dozen breeding bitches, with most of his wives and husbands having their way with you as well. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Cum your brains out" , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table> (display: "Image : MindBreak")}

Worried about what will happen if you refuse and too curious about what the hulking wolf has in mind, you accept his request. Unfortunately, you're soon attacked anyway. He didn't understand a single word you said and instead just assumed that you had refused. You cry out as the wolf lunges at you, intent on utterly dominating your body. A punch to your stomach sends you hurtling across the clearing and into the base of a nearby tree. You reach for your sidearm, but it's smashed from your grip before you can fire. The hulking lupine bites, claws, and tears away your jumpsuit, making no effort to avoid injuring you in the process. You cry out for mercy as you're used like a chew toy and beaten into submission. The world fades to black as you pass out from your injuries, and through flickering patches of consciousness, you feel yourself being dragged through the underbrush. . . . You awaken sometime later, tied up in a cave of some kind. Your body is bound in a sling, and you feel deeply embarrassed as the cool, damp air ebbs against your exposed hole. Ahead of you, your monstrous attacker is growling. He eyes your hole with primal lust, and you watch, horrified, as his cock stands to attention. You immediately understand why this man was living alone in the forest and why they were so desperate to mate with you. Their cock is truly unique, with not one, with three knots up its length. It's a bizarre, unwieldy manhood that you doubt many, if any, can take. Unfortunately for you, it doesn't appear that he cares if you can take it or not. You cry out in utter agony as he grips your thighs hard enough to draw blood before cramming inch after agonising inch of his freakish dick inside you. You're left babbling and sobbing by the time he squashes the first of his trio of knots into your guts, and he only grows more insistent as time goes on. For the next few hours, he pushes into you, gets frustrated, withdraws, and then tries again. Inch by inch, you take more of his throbbing manhood with each attempt, but even the first few inches of his megalithic cock take almost an hour to squeeze inside you. Despite this, before the day is over, the Outcast has managed to cram their entire multi-foot cock into you. Your stomach bulges in the defined, multi-knotted shape of their dick, and you can see all three throbbing and inflating through your skin. It's only when they finally cum and your stomach rounds that their dick is no longer visible. You cough up wolf cum as it floods your guts and stomach, and with nowhere else to go... it pours up your throat. . . . Every day for the rest of your miserable life, your insides are ravaged by the brutish freak and his equally freakish cock. He shows you no mercy, knot-fucking you until you permanently gape and you become used to being an overfilled cum balloon. Luckily, your mind is broken by the dawn of the third day. This is the only mercy you will ever receive. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Accept your life as a fleshlight" , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table>}

You whimper out all manner of apologies, but they fall on uncaring ears. "Your loss", the girly Lunisian whispers down at you as if they expect you to come crawling back once you realise what a mistake you've made. They stand, cum still dripping from their expansive ass, blowing you a kiss before they turn to leave. The last you see of them is their waspish ass before it squeezes into the foliage. It takes you a few minutes to get your erection to go down. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Head back" , "Luna - Wildlands journey")</td> </tr> </table>}

Fighting temptation, you turn down the imposing Lunisian's offer. He seems legitimately surprised that you were able to resist and soon turns his nose up at you. "Very well, fox." he snarls down at you. "I doubt you would have been a worthy mate anyway." He motions for you to leave, and you do. Although he lets you go, you can feel his eyes burning into your behind as you hurry away, and by the time you leave the man behind, your cheeks are flushed bright red. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Continue your journey" , "Luna - Wildlands journey")</td> </tr> </table>}

Terrified of what the gigantic wolf will do, you think quickly and draw your blaster. He seems unfazed by this threat, which gives you time to fire a shot directly into the Outcast's gravity moderator. Just as you intended, the device begins to fail. In an instant, his movements go from hulking and powerful to slowed and heavy. His feet press a few inches into the dirt beneath him as he struggles to stay upright. "What... you do....?" he growls out, confusion and fury on his face. He manages a few more steps before crashing to the ground. You don't waste your chance to escape and immediately hurry into the tree line. You hear the wolf howling out in anger behind you and worry about what he'll do once his gravity moderation runs out of juice. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "hurry up and leave" , "Luna - Wildlands journey")</td> </tr> </table>}

{(set: $Event to (random: 1,3)){ }(if: $Event is 1)[(goto:"Polite client")]{ }(elseif: $Event is 2)[(goto:"Angry client")]{ }(elseif: $Event is 3)[(goto:"Grav-drunk client")]   }

She folds her arms, and you notice that her left one is covered in an unconvincing faux flesh. "I'm not on the menu, asshole," she states, baring her fangs. You hold up your arms as if to physically block the accusation from impacting you. "No, no, I didn't mean it like that!" you gasp out, pleading for her forgiveness. "I was just genuinely curious. You seem like you have an interesting history.". She looks marginally less close to tearing out your throat. Begrudgingly, she tells you her story, if only so you'll hurry up and leave. "I was military for just over a decade--" she begins. "Luna has a military?" you cut in, genuinely curious. She glares at you, and you shut up. "Off-world, you nosy shit," she growls. There's a moment of silence before she restarts her story. "I was military for just over a decade, off-world, mostly protecting salvage crews in and around the Metris debris field. Anti-piracy was my main thing." Her expression softens, almost becoming morose. She avoids your eyes for the first time since you started talking with her. "Anyway, after a decade of successful deployments and locking up pirates, my interceptor caught a flechette field from some scumbags running jury-rigged armaments. Barely survived, but lost a couple limbs and a whole lot of patience for above-board work". You open your mouth to apologise, but she slams her fist on the table with enough force to leave a small dent in the metal surface. The fire in her eyes has returned, and not a hint of sadness remains. "Anyway, those fuckers couldn't kill me, but I wasn't gonna give them another chance." she muses. "I dropped that old job and my dipshit superiors, blew my credits on adult gene mods and combat implants, then left". "... To come start a brothel?" you ask, not quite believing what you're hearing. She shakes her head. "No, no. The brothel was here when I arrived. The guy that ran it tried to slap my ass in a bar, so I zeroed him and took his shit". "O-oh... and you got away with that?" you ask, swallowing hard. She raises an eyebrow at you. "I'm not sure you understand how things around here work. You don't "get away with things" here. You take what you need, what you want, and you kill anyone that tries to take it back, or they kill you and take it themselves." "I didn't realise Metris-2 was quite so... territorial," you say, almost quiet enough to be a whisper. She shakes her head at you, no longer aggressive. "You really didn't research this place before you landed, did you? You're so green. It's a miracle nobody's blasted a hole in you or jackhammered you into paste". You fall silent, much less sure of your current location than when you started. As the conversation draws to a close, the Lunisian has a final tidbit to share with you. "They called me "Coyote"," she says, the reference to the Terran scavenging species not going unnoticed. "Nice to meet you, Coyote", you respond, but she just shakes her head at you. "Green. Screwed. So screwed. Dead by the end of the week," she muses. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>(link-goto: "Back to business" , "Metris-2 - Brothel")</td></tr> </table> (set: $Coyote_AskedAboutHer to true)}

The jaded-looking cat behind the bar raises an eyebrow at you as if he's unused to patrons doing anything but demanding the next drink. "You're here for a drink, not my life story," he says, barely acknowledging you. You're unsatisfied with that answer, so decide to push a little further, albeit gently. "Sorry, I just wondered..." you trail off. The bartender glares at you, not contributing further conversation, still cleaning a glass. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>(link-goto: "Nevermind" , "Metris-2 - Bar")</td></tr> </table>}

You let the shady merchant know that you'd like to buy a fleshlight, and he's all too happy to take your credits. "Feels almost as good as the real thing," he says, processing your transaction. "Very popular with virgins, explorers, and people who're otherwise on the receiving end". That final one, he says while grinning at you, putting a fresh crimson in your cheeks. //You spent 200 credits on a Fleshlight! It's now available back on your ship!// --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link: "Keep looking around")[(set: $Credits to $Credits - 200)(set: $HasItem_Fleshlight to true)(goto: "Buy sex toy")]</td> </tr> </table>}

With intense embarrassment, you heft the horse cock dildo onto the merchant's table and inform him you want to purchase it. Your face is flushed bright red. It only grows redder as the merchant stares at you in utter disbelief. "Did you... grab the right one?" He asks, looking between you and the massive dildo. "This'll split you in half". "That's the plan", you ashamedly respond. With a grin on his face, the merchant processes your transaction. "If you take pictures, I want some", he lewdly announces, pushing the massive toy into your hands. You're not looking forward to hefting this massive thing back onto your ship... especially with no way to hide it. //You spent 250 credits on a Horse Cock Dildo! It's now available back on your ship!// --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link: "Keep looking around")[(set: $Credits to $Credits - 250)(set: $HasItem_HorseCockDildo to true)(goto: "Buy sex toy")]</td> </tr> </table>}

You express interest in a "Pleasure Visor" sitting on a shelf behind the merchant. He grins wide, quickly retrieving it for you. "State of the art," he says. "Neuro-immersive interface, program-mind latency of less than 10ms, she's a beauty." "I'll take it", you tell the shrewd merchant, his eyes gleaming as you confirm your purchase. //You spent 300 credits on a Pleasure Visor! It's now available back on your ship!// --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link: "Keep looking around")[(set: $Credits to $Credits - 300)(set: $HasItem_PleasureVisor to true)(goto: "Buy sex toy")]</td> </tr> </table>}

You doubt you'll be able to outrun bounty hunters. Desperate to escape your new fate, you beg for the brothel owner to help you clear your debt. Naturally, she's all too happy to oblige your request. She grabs your wrist with uncomfortable tightness and drags you into a nearby room. You immediately recognise it as a dressing room; Hung from opposite walls are a collection of various outfits and costumes, all revealing and obscene enough to put a pronounced redness in your cheeks. She searches through the outfits until finally finding one that fits you. It happens to be one of the tiniest outfits: A jumpsuit, much like the one you're wearing, albeit far more rubbery and revealing. The ass of the jumpsuit has been cut out, allowing easy access for clients. She throws the skimpy jumpsuit to you, growling when you hesitate to wear it. Reluctantly, you switch outfits in front of the leering Lunisian. The rubbery jumpsuit is almost uncomfortably snug and exaggerates all of your curves. As you examine yourself in a nearby mirror, she bounces an open-palmed slap against your big, fat ass. You cry out in surprise, quickly moving to hide your growing bulge. "Oh, they're gonna love you..." she coos, watching as a reddened palm print begins to form. . . . You spend the next few months working in the brothel, doing your best but never quite making enough to pay off your debt. Dozens of the most debauched lovers pour into the establishment each day, all with increasingly bizarre and cruel requests, and you're entirely powerless to refuse. You suck cock, feel your insides obliterated by dicks as thick as your thigh, and never earn so much as a "thank you" for it. When you're not on shift, the brothel matron typically takes you for herself. You're tied up beneath the front desk, in the perfect position for a casual face-fucking. Your first evening working at the brothel, the owner booked you herself. You were surprised to find that she had a little something extra, a heavily gene-modded horse cock, custom-grown to break the wills of resistant whores like yourself. You spent the evening, night, and early morning gagging on her cock and trying your best not to drown in her cum. Unbeknownst to you, you did so well as a whore, and as the matron's personal cum-dumpster that she quickly decided to keep you. Through careful adjustment of your earnings and debt, there's no possibility of you ever earning enough to escape, and you'll always be far too fucked silly to notice. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Continue your shift" , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table>}

Despite her threats and the looming threat of being hunted across the universe by deadly bounty hunters, you refuse her demands. You decide that you'd rather be hunted down with dignity than give in to a bully. The Lunisian cyborg looks genuinely surprised, and she suddenly grins at you. "You've got balls, kid," she says, shaking her head and letting out a dry laugh. "I bet they shoot those off first". She releases you, and you hurry back to your ship. You already feel the gaze of pursuing bounty hunters burning into your back, and you do nothing but run. First thing's first, if you're being chased by bounty hunters, Metris-2 is the last place you want to be. You run up the ramp of your ship before it's properly deployed, hurry to the bridge, and immediately try to put as much distance between you and the space station as you can. Unfortunately, your sensor array is already detecting multiple scans. A few minutes later, the first disruptor pulse batters the unreliable shields of your training vessel. You're drifting now; power to the engines is temporarily fried. The controls are unresponsive in your grip. "Ship, I need strategies NOW!" you frantically yell out, demanding a solution from your AI, unsure if one even exists. There's the familiar whirring you've come to dread before you're offered a tiny glimmer of hope. "I have identified 1 stratagem which will result in the continuity of this vessel." your AI triumphantly declares. "Do it! Now!" you demand; Secondary pulses from the pursuing ships now threatening to damage your life support systems. "Executing stratagem", your AI coldly announces, and then there's a sudden flash of light. You shield your eyes, crying out, believing that something aboard your ship has detonated. There's silence, and slowly you lower your hands. Around you stand at least a dozen men with weapons trained on you. This isn't your ship. Ahead of you, through a bridge window, you see your own floating in the void. Space distorts as it suddenly disappears. You realise, much to your horror, that the strategy was to sacrifice a copy of you in order to allow the ship to escape. "Um... h-hello?" you call out, raising your arms in a universal declaration of surrender. The men look towards a particularly well-equipped one, who nods to them. You have only a moment to react before the butt of a rifle smashes you in the face. You hit the ground hard, and the world goes dark. . . . You wake up hours later, back on Metris-2. You're completely naked, your arms bound above your head. The grav-cuffs that lock your wrists seem to be connected to a rail of some kind, and you soon realise why. Your naked body is paraded out in front of a room full of people. Some look on with interest, others with disgust... and some start making bids. Ahead of you, a rat-like Squirren begins the process of "selling" you. "Our next item: This Vulpis runt!" he announces in a comedic tone, and the crowd begins to chuckle. "Ignore the black eye", he continues ", They forgot to pay their brothel tab". The rat grabs your hips and spins you around, lifting your tail so that the buyers get a good look at your surprisingly fat ass. Your heart races; your mind is flooded with embarrassment. Still, though, when the rat turns you back to face the audience, they go wild. This humiliating process has given you an erection, now on display for any prospective buyer to see. "1 credit", someone jokingly calls out. "5 credits", another voice chimes in. "Now, now", the rat steps in, halting the bids. "Before you bid, you should know that they've wracked up several thousand credits worth of debt. Expected to be paid before you get the merchandise". There are disappointed sighs from around the room, with many buyers throwing up their hands and leaving. You feel despondent as you realise how little people value you, even if it is as a slave. "That being said, their exceptional debt has resulted in full sentient rights forfeiture. You buy it, you can break it, mod it, cyberise it, eat it, whatever you like!" the rat calls out, hoping to stem the bleed of prospective buyers from the room. "100 credits and debt outstanding", you hear casually yet firmly called from the back of the room. Your eyes struggle to focus on the speaker, but they appear to be a feline of some kind. Their portly yet distinctly masculine physique looks out of place for the scrappy residents of Metris-2. "Any other offers?" the rat calls out. There are none. "Sold", he soon announces. You hang your head in utter shame. If you factor out the debt, you were just sold for the price of a particularly cheap knock-off sex toy. . . . A short time later, you meet your new master. He's an older-looking Tigrin, a tiger-like humanoid species known for their cutthroat business strategies and political dealings. Wasting no time, he's quick to lead you onto his ship and into his private quarters. That night, you're treated more harshly than perhaps ever before. Each sex act seems to be entirely dedicated to seeing just how far you can be pushed before you beg for mercy. He chokes you on his cock until your lips go blue, throws you around, and crush-fucks you beneath his beer gut with his obviously heavily hyper-modded cock. You spend the rest of your days on his business vessel, helping the shrewd businessman to blow off steam in between multi-million credit deals. Soon, you're so addicted to everything about him that any thoughts of escape have completely petered out. If you go more than a few hours without his barbed foot-long cock rounding out your stomach, you start to feel painfully empty. This is your life, at least until your master decides he's bored of you. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Get to work, slave" , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table>}

You find a nearby screen and navigate through the catalogue to the "Puppy Pal" android. After a few seconds, the transaction succeeds, and the nearest box containing your purchase hisses open. You approach, the dog-like android still powered down. "Did something go wrong?" you wonder to yourself. Cautiously reaching out, you boop the dog-like android on the nose. Suddenly, its eyes open. It reaches out and grabs you, pulling you close. You cry out, struggling-- Wait a second... is this a hug? Your head is squashed to the android's chest, and you struggle to look up at him, only for a tongue to suddenly drench your face in synth-slobber. "Master! Master!" it happily sings. "Are you an adventurer? Are we going on adventures? Can I help? Please?" It releases you, climbing out of its packaging and looking at you expectantly. "S-sure. Meet me back on my ship, ok?" You give him the location and access codes, growing surprised at how happy it seems to make him. "Yes, sir!" it yells, saluting you for a moment before running out of the store. You look around, confused, completely alone in that strange experience. //You spent 1000 credits on your very own Puppy Pal! It's now available back on your ship!// --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link: "Leave")[(set: $Credits to $Credits - 1000)(set: $HasItem_PuppyPal to true)(goto:"Buy a companion")]</td> </tr> </table>}

Although you already have a long list of creatures out to do perverted things to you, you just can't help yourself. You type away at a nearby screen and navigate to the "Happy Horse" model android. A few seconds later, your transaction succeeds. Mere moments later, the front of one of the nearby containers is kicked off. Steam flows out from the box as a horse-like android steps out, vision soon fixing on you. He strides up to you, soon staring down at you. He must be at least 2ft taller than you. "You're my owner?" he asks. "What a fuckin' joke." "W-what?" you blurt out. Aren't androids meant to be subservient? "Listen, pipsqueak. Transfer your ship location already, or I'm going to fuck your brains out right here and now". You do as you're told, earning a firm slap on the ass before the horse android leaves. Something tells you that you've just bought a handful... //You spent 1300 credits on your very own Puppy Pal! It's now available back on your ship!// --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link: "Leave")[(set: $Credits to $Credits - 1300)(set: $HasItem_HappyHorse to true)(goto: "Buy a companion")]</td> </tr> </table>}

You decide to use your fleshlight, eager to push your member into the tight, textured toy. You hurriedly unzip your jumpsuit and throw it aside, picking up the toy and examining it for a few moments. Truthfully, it looks a little bit too long for you. It's well-designed through, and as you peer into the toy you feel shivers as you spot all the bumps and waves grafted onto the inner lining. You poke a pair of fingers into it with a dirty-sounding squelch, and when you retrieve your fingers they're both coated in a thin layer of slimy, frictionless fluid. It appears to be self-lubricating, so there's no need for any further preparations. Biting your lip, you trace a finger around your sheath, breathing unsteady as your cock grows, throbs and soon stands fully erect. Now hard enough to begin, you bring the opening of the toy to your tip, teasing yourself with some tantalisingly shallow thrusts. You imagine the mouth of a past lover, imagining hesitant kisses against your tip. Unable to resist any longer, you push more and more of your length into the toy, finding that it's lubricated enough to be as rough as you like. You moan, legs turning to jelly, as each bump, wave, and coil lining the inside of the toy seems more intense than the last. If you use this thing too much, you doubt you'll ever want a sentient lover again. You speed up, the toy making a surprising amount of noise as you ram your length into it. Soon, your knot slams wetly against the opening as well. On the verge of climax, your instincts take over, and you smash your knot against the opening- -but to no avail. As your orgasm hits, you're distractedly trying to push your knot into the toy, but continually fail. You try again, but the same thing happens. Although the toy is too big for you, your knot is simply too wide. "Fuck it!" you cry out, deciding that if you have to break the toy in order to knot it, you will. Desperately, you slam the fleshlight down with as much force as you can muster, but to no avail. Your knot is too fat to squeeze inside, and you succeed only in making some truly lewd, wet, squashing noises as your engorged knot plaps unsuccessfully off the mouth of the toy. You finally give up, huffing and defeated as the last waves of your orgasm fade. You think back to some of your early lovers and how they seemed painfully frustrated they couldn't cram their knots into you... and you suppose you now know why. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>(link-goto: "Tidy up" , "Ship - Bunks")</td></tr> </table>}

Although there's little chance of anyone walking in on you, the obscene nature of what you're about to attempt has you double-checking that the door to the Captain's Quarters is locked. You take out your horse cock dildo from beneath the bed, marvelling at how massive it is for a few moments. You're certainly lucky that it came with complimentary lube, and you begin rubbing some over the length of the toy. For some reason, just rubbing at a replica dick like this puts a stirring in your loins and an expectant feeling of emptiness in your behind. You hurriedly undress, throwing your jumpsuit over a nearby chair and squatting above the toy. Lowering down, you soon find the flared head of the toy against your rear. It takes some patience, force, wiggling, and additional lube, but it eventually slips inside. You take a breath, bringing yourself downwards in slow but purposeful movements, managing to take a little bit more each time. Sooner than you expected, you even feel the medial ring of the toy, feeling bizarrely accomplished at having reached the mid-way point. As you reposition yourself, your foot suddenly lands in a puddle of lube. Your balance falters, and you slip. In an instant, the remaining half of the dildo is lodged firmly up your poor back door. You yell obscenities as you cry out in confused agony; the sudden slam into your deepest regions battering an orgasm from your overwhelmed body. Gritting your teeth and trying not to pass out, you spray a confused load across the floor. Tensing up and with fresh tears rolling down your cheeks, you do your best to endure the waves of pain until they die down. You're breathless, and it practically feels as if the toy hit your lungs. That can't be the case though, you think to yourself. At least, not with the evidence right in front of you. Looking down, you're both horrified and aroused to find the toy visible inside your distended stomach. You rub at your bulging belly, able to feel the firmness of the faux-cock inside it. Ashamed with yourself, this has your cock standing to full mast almost immediately. The realisation that you're so stretchy and fuckable has you daydreaming about being some awful monster's personal fuckhole. You grind against the base of your toy, feeling how it slides through your insides and stretches your stomach. Before long, you're firing ropes across the room. Your second orgasm persists longer than the first, not impeded by sudden pain. As the pleasure fades, you slowly pull off the toy. The sensation is almost mind-shattering, and you're letting out tiny, pathetic moans the entire time. You can feel the texture, the medial ring, and the flared head as they retrace their steps through your poor insides until they finally exit your gaping ass with a truly obscene squelch. You fall forwards, gripping your sides, never having felt so empty before. A part of you is screaming to shove the dildo back inside yourself, maybe even securing it in place with straps. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>(link-goto: "Tidy up" , "Ship - Bunks")</td></tr> </table>}

{(set: $Event to (random: 1,4)) (if: $Event is 4)[ (goto:"Pleasure Visor glitching")] }(if: $Event < 4)[You decide it's time to put the pleasure visor you bought to good use, fiddling with the surprisingly bulky device before slipping it over your head. Maybe it isn't the best idea to use a strange, brain-interfacing helmet bought from an unscrupulous merchant, but what have you got to lose? You tap a button on the side of the device, and the screen flickers to life. An on-screen prompt asks for verbal confirmation that you would like to begin. "Simulation start" you shakily whisper out, biting your lip in sultry expectation, your heart racing. There's a bright flash as the world falls away, and a new reality constructs itself before your very eyes.] (if: $Event is 1)[You're now standing in a locker room, one that immediately feels familiar. You realise, much to your horror, that this is the locker room adjacent to the training chambers back at the Academy. For you, this was the site of countless cruel pranks, and you feel no joy at all to be returned here. You're so put off, in fact, that you immediately try to end the simulation. You only hesitate when people begin to enter the room. They're your former classmates, all standing at least a head taller than you. You swallow hard, preparing for the worst. When they spot you, however, your former classmates all hurry over to greet you. They welcome you home and ask you about your adventures, treating you as if you're a recently returned hero. Your expectations are utterly shaken, and you're not sure how to respond. With immense trepidation, you welcome their praises and kind words, immediately enamoured with this false reality. Your willingness to accept this fiction only intensifies as they lovingly undress you, and you're too flattered by their words to protest. Countless hands roam across your petite body, exploring your lithe physique with no boundaries. They squeeze at your flat chest, grip your waspish hips, grope your pillowy behind, and grip your supple thighs. Your former comrades force no shortage of gasps from your lips before finally turning their attention to your sheath. With absolute ease, they coax your manhood to full mast. Much to your surprise, the biggest Vulpis in the room kneels in front of you. When you look down at them, you're surprised to find that it's Kors, your final hookup before your banishment from your homeworld. He leans in, slowly tracing his tongue from the underside of your balls, over the curvature of your knot, and up to the tip of your cock. Soon after, he's guiding your cock past his lips and blowing you with unrivalled skill, taking you by complete surprise. You hesitate for a moment before remembering that you're in a simulation and beginning to thrust weakly into his mouth. From behind, another former colleague gets to work on your ass. You feel his hot breath against your ass cheek for a moment before he begins to obscenely, almost obsessively lick at your hope. You grip Kors' hair and gasp out words of encouragement, rocking back and forth between the two sources of pleasure. Two additional cadets lick at your chest and nibble your neck. A third pulls you into a passionate kiss, their tongue dancing with your own and muffling your constant, needy moans. It's all too much, and you're soon squashing your knot into Kor's willing mouth. He cups your throbbing balls as you empty them down his throat, an especially intense orgasm putting soft little tears in your eyes. "We love you," the band of affectionate, muscular Vulpis sing to you through ragged, horny breaths. There's a similar declaration from Kors as he looks up at you, loving adoration in his eyes, his words muffled by your knot as it bulges out his cheeks. Your heart is racing. For the first time, you feel as though your comrades not only tolerate you but genuinely love you. "I love you t-" you begin, only for the simulation to abruptly end. You let out a pained whine as your dream scenario, and the squad of loving men all dissolve back into pure fantasy. You openly curse the pleasure visor as you tear it from your head, barely stopping yourself from throwing it across the room. You're lying in bed, and the inside of your jumpsuit is wet and sticky from your orgasm.]{ }(else-if: $Event is 2)[You're suddenly standing in a forest clearing beneath a gigantic, full moon. The moonlight allows you to navigate with relative ease, although it lends the world around you a cold, almost ethereal quality. All around you, the forest cracks and creaks. It's as if countless creatures are all around, albeit just out of view. You turn in place, staring out into the dense foliage, but freeze when you spot a pair of piercing yellow eyes. Immediately, they lock onto your own, and you understand that you're prey. Instantly, you begin to panic. Your heart is racing already, and you find yourself unable to flee or even look away, even as the creature steps forth from the tree line. In the bright moonlight, you're easily able to make out its features. You recognise it as an old Terran depiction of a werewolf standing at no less than 8 feet tall. It takes slow, lumbering steps toward you, and as it approaches, you're able to make of its features. He's drooling from two places; his snarling, fang-filled mouth and from the rock-hard cock that rapidly stiffens beneath him. You estimate it to be about a foot in length, and you gulp as the creature's intentions become clear. You want to run, but, knowing this is all a simulation, you decide to stand your ground. You're too excited and frankly too curious to see where this is going. When he reaches you, he immediately pulls you against him. He snarls down at you, drool spattering against your cheek. His body utterly dwarfs your own, and his feral, masculine scent quickly overpowers your senses. Having your face buried in his chest fluff for a few moments is more than enough to set your heart racing. A clawed hand soon guides your head downwards, and before long, you're kneeling in front of the lupine man. His throbbing cock leaks pre cum into your hair and across your face. You can't resist any longer. Without further hesitation, you begin licking, kissing, and slobbering over his canine cock. He huffs contentedly as you slather their huge, meaty cock with your saliva. Just as you're about to take his knotted cock into your mouth, he suddenly steps being you. With a violent shove, you're soon falling face-down. Your face in the dirt, your lewd cries are muffled as they pin you there. You soon feel their cock head, lubed with your spit, as it grinds firmly against your ring. The creature of the night is an animalistic yet surprisingly considerate lover. He thrusts into you relatively gently at first, although "relatively gentle" for a werewolf is still more than enough to knock the air from your lungs. His hot breath precedes his teeth, and he's soon clamping down on your shoulder with enough force to draw blood. Wet slapping rings out through the forest as his balls practically spank your big, juicy ass. With fistfuls of grass, you cry out, begging the creature to fuck you even harder—unsure if it can even understand you. Whether or not it can comprehend your words' meaning, the werewolf suddenly begins fucking you far harder than before. Your cock leaks like a faucet, pathetically flooding the grass as a far greater male pounds your poor prostate until you're too overwhelmed to talk. Your face buried in the dirt, the werewolf suddenly buries his thick, lupine knot in you. You let out a pathetic whimper, spurting ropes of cum into the grass. Meanwhile, the werewolf unloads gallons of his pseudo-human seed into your ass, flooding your insides with his almost painfully hot cum. You've been mated with, claimed even, and the thought sets your heart aflutter. You love this creature and his thick, ass-wrecking dick. You want to spend the rest of your days knotted beneath him, your insides pounded until you're just as much a feral beast as he is. As the werewolf pants, exhausted and satisfied, he lets out a victorious howl. He completed his conquest of your body, your very being, and he makes sure that every denizen of the forest knows it. When the simulation finally fades, you're lying face-down on the bed. You're untouched, but the phantom sensations of werewolf cock buried deep in your guts are still fresh in your mind. Cum fills the front of your jumpsuit and spills out onto the bedsheets.]{ }(else-if: $Event is 3)[When the headset finishes constructing an environment, you find yourself standing inside an old-timey saloon. You think back to imported Domoyan movies that you watched as a child. Feeling increasingly out of place as the well-armed denizens of the Saloon spot you, you stroll up to the bar and order a drink. The bartender, a grizzled old Domoyan, rolls his eyes before pouring you a beer. It's lukewarm and tastes awful, but you do your best to hide your disappointment, not keen on causing a scuffle. Just as you're thinking of removing the headset, the saloon doors suddenly swing open. You shield your eyes for a moment from the harsh sunlight pouring through the entrance, the bright light casting the impressive silhouette of a man clad in sturdy leather and a flowing poncho. When he steps from the doorway, the many ruffians sitting around the saloon begin scrambling to leave. Each of them looks defeated, simply at the man's presence. When he reaches you, you see that he's shining you a handsome smile. "Well, well well, you're a new face-" he begins, voice smooth as silk. "-and not a bad looking one either". You laugh off his compliment, but you already know that he's got you hook, line and sinker. When he kisses the back of your hand and asks if you'd like to hire a room together, you immediately accept. He leads you to a room upstairs, your heart racing, and hurries to shut the door behind you both. No sooner than you both have privacy, he's pulled you into a hot, passionate kiss. His tongue dances with your own as he undoes your jumpsuit, pulling away the fabric and teasing at the skin beneath. By the time he breaks the kiss, your clothes are around your ankles, and you're able to kick away your clothing. Sweetly, he asks you to return the favour, and you're all too happy to indulge him. You excitedly lift off his shirt, gasping as his toned upper body is exposed. You trace a hand down his abs, practically salivating at the perfection of his physique. Climbing down to your knees, you wink up at him. He smiles down at you with that sultry, reassuring smile, and you find yourself hurriedly unbuckling his belt. The fabric is tenting already, and you can smell his masculine scent through the fabric. When his trousers fall to the floor, and he kicks them towards the same end of the room where your own are haphazardly lying, you immediately press your muzzle to his exposed member. It's above average in size, and like the cocks of all Doms, it's covered in countless small barbs. When you trace your tongue up his length, his barbs feel unusual against your tongue. You have fleeting worries of him injuring your throat, but you're far too enamoured with him to back out now. When you do lean in, taking him inch by inch into your throat, you're relieved to find that his barbs tickle rather than hurt. It's still a challenge, but you do your best to impress your lover. "Easy, girl", he grunts down at you, and the salty taste of pre cum suddenly fills your mouth. He traces his fingers through your hair for a few moments before holding you in place and slowly beginning to thrust down your throat. You gag and splutter, but allow him to treat you however he pleases. Soon, his balls are wetly slapping against your chin. Some of his gentlemanly veneer has fallen away now, and he mumbles obscene phrases above you as his orgasm approaches. When his climax hits, he grips your ears and pulls your muzzle firmly to his crotch. He grinds his barbed cock as deeply down your throat as he can manage and lets out satisfied grunts as his cum pumps down your throat. You gulp and gag, tears in your eyes, forcing yourself not to squirm. By the time he pulls from your bruised throat, you've fallen utterly, head-over-heels in love with him. You willingly bend over the edge of the bed, and your lover lets out a contented chuckle. His cock is already slick with your saliva and his own cum, so he wastes no time mounting you. You grip the sheets as his cock pushes into you, taking you by surprise when it expertly strikes your prostate on the first thrust. In just a few thrusts, he's able to push his entire length into your needy hole. Your insides spasm around the sudden intrusion, and you do your best to clench around his cock, much to his delight. "I-I love you", you suddenly blurt out, unable to restrain yourself any longer. There's silence for a moment, his thrusts ceasing, and you begin to panic. Did you do something wrong? Have you ruined the moment? Does he- Your worries are absolutely shattered when, with no warning whatsoever, the rogueish feline aggressively bites your neck. Accompanying this, his thrusts resume and intensify until he slams into you with almost pelvis-breaking force. You grip the sheets and hang on for dear life, your entire body burning with passion, the lascivious cowboy sending you careening towards and straight past your limits. You cry out in absolute pleasure as your orgasm hits, and he continuously drills his barbed cock against your prostate the entire time. You cum so hard that you see stars that you even forget your name, and a moment later, you're crying out further declarations of love as the man floods your insides with his seed. You whimper, drool and whine, utterly satisfied, albeit bruised and exhausted. You're just about to ask about aftercare when the man's hips pull back and, without any fanfare whatsoever, round two begins... . . . You are awoken the next morning by the sunlight poking small tears in the blinds. You feel cosy and comfortable and immediately roll over to greet your rogueish lover. Unfortunately, he's nowhere to be found. You realise, much to your horror, that all of the items you had before your tryst with the cowboy are now missing. You open your mouth to curse him aloud but are left red-faced when you realise that you were so smitten that you never asked for his name. With those final pangs of frustration and longing, the simulation ends. You pull the pleasure visor from your head and casually toss it aside. Your middle is sticky and wet, the fur beneath your jumpsuit saturated with cum. Tired and satisfied, you find yourself wondering if there are real, charming rogues out there amongst the stars, just waiting to sweep you off your feet...] --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>(link-goto: "Tidy up" , "Ship - Bunks")</td></tr> </table>}

You search the ship for your Puppy Pal android, finding them cleaning one of the navigation panels in the bridge. They perk up when they see you, hurrying over and quickly wrapping you in a big, soft hug. "Hello, master!" the android happily chirps, already licking your face. "Can I help you with anything? Would you like to spend time together?" it questions, growing more excited at its own suggestions. You manage to pry them away for long enough to give an answer. "I was hoping you could... help me... in the bedroom?". The android's eyes go wide, and they make excited high-pitched noises. You let out a yip as the affectionate android casually slings you over its shoulder and carries you through to the bedroom. When they finally put you down, it's to help you slip out of your jumpsuit. They carefully fold it and place it by the bedside. Now ready to begin, you both stand in silence for a moment. The android watches you with excitement, with slowly growing signs of worry. "M-master? I'm ready to begin," it says expectantly. "O-oh..." you trail off, unsure how to start. "If you're feeling shy" the android begins "I'd be happy to talk you through all of my functions?" You nod, redness in your cheeks. Why are you getting so flustered about fucking a robot? "Well!" the cybernetic puppy excitedly begins. "Puppy Pal androids are equipped with a multitude of pleasure routines!" He guides your hand to his mouth, which is surprisingly warm and wet. "Our mouths are ideal for penetration" he states, muffled around your fingers. Guiding your hand down the excessively soft flesh of his rear, making eye contact with you the entire time, he pushes your fingers to his tail hole. "As are our rears. Self-lubrication ensures you can grab and use us whenever you like!" "Perhaps I could show you a little bit of everything?" he asks, tail wagging madly behind him. You nod, and the android immediately kneels in front of you. His simulated breaths are warm and ragged against your manhood, and you soon grow to full mast. No later than you're erect has he taken your length into his mouth. It's even softer than you'd previously thought. The sensation of his mouth is immediately too much, and you find yourself falling onto the edge of the bed. He follows you, expertly guiding your manhood past his lips. He gags a few times, simulated of course, with each spasm of his throat only heightening the experience. Soon your knot bulges his cheeks, but he doesn't slow down at all. Inside his mouth and throat, dozens of micro-rotors caress and tease at your cock, bringing you to the verge of orgasm in no time at all. You grit your teeth and cry out-- only for the android to pull back. You look at him questioningly, until he guides your hands to his floppy ears. His intentions become immediately clear, and soon you're using his ears as impromptu handles to sloppily facefuck him. In no more than 20 seconds, you're burying your knot in his throat and blowing a load down his throat. Breathing heavily, you look down at the android's face. His snout is pushed firmly to your crotch. His eyes currently resemble little hearts, and he's still fake-gagging around your cock lodged in his throat. "That was..." you trail off. "Once my knot deflates, can we also--" you begin to ask. With markedly unnatural ease, the android lets your knot pop out of its mouth. You gasp huskily as you feel their insides quite literally shifting in order to allow you to pop free. Without another word, the android climbs onto the bed and lies on its front. They wiggle their perfect, plush ass at you. They already know what you want... You climb atop the android, pushing your tip to their hole, and without any preamble begin to fuck them. They gasp and moan, but never in discomfort; they're always capable of taking what you can dish out. Their insides are warm and slick with lube, and soon your knot is battering against their ring. As you climax, they push back and easily allow it to squash inside. You can feel the synth-flesh of their insides squeezing and milking you with robotic precision, making sure that every drop of your intense orgasm ends up inside them. Your arms go limp, but not before managing to pull out of the android. You're utterly satisfied, or at least you thought you were... Abruptly rolled onto your back, you're surprised to find the android straddling your tummy. They look down at you with an affectionate smile, love-hearts in their eyes again, before taking your member into their rear again. "I'd like to show you something special, if I may?" they ask, somewhat desperately. "S-sure" you weakly reply, utterly spent. The android begins to roughly ride you, easily taking your length and somehow bringing you to orgasm after only a few more minutes. "We Puppy Pal androids can modify our secretions. Usually, it's just lube..." they trail off, rising and falling a few more times. You cum again, although have no more seed to spare. "... but we're capable of secreting powerful sexual drugs as well" They rise and fall, and your eyes roll back as you dry cum. "I love you, master," the android says, each bounce of their fatty ass on your rod bringing you to immediate, overwhelming orgasm. "Let me show you how much..." Over the next hour, your android expertly coaxes an innumerable number of orgasms from you, to the point that your pleasure-addled mind registers that they might be dangerous. It's only as you become unable to speak that the android finally starts to wind down. You gasp and moan as the shifting jelly insides of your synthetic lover caress and squeeze at your cock, quickly coaxing a final intense orgasm from you. The android smiles at you as you pump your load into him, hand rubbing his own tummy as if he's just become satisfied with the quantity. As your orgasm fades, he takes a few faux attempts to pull off of your knot, being careful not to hurt your sensitive manhood. "You're such a good boy!" they coo at you, kissing your neck and rubbing your hair. You blush bright red, utterly spent. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>(link-goto: "Awww..." , "Ship - Bunks")</td></tr> </table>}

{(set: $Event to (random: 1,2)) }You search your ship until you find your Happy Horse android. He's sitting in the common's area, his hoofed feet casually kicked up on the table. When he sees you, he rolls his eyes. "What?" he dismissively questions. "Well, I uh..." you start, surprised that your personal pleasure android isn't less friendly. "... I was wondering if we could fool around, y'know?" "Of course you are" he spits out, climbing to his feet and pulling you by the collar back through to the Captain's quarters. "Let's get to it, slut". You start to undo your jumpsuit, only for the android to impatiently do it for you. He throws your clothes into a crumpled heap across the room. Unsure where to begin, you reach out and touch the android's muscular body. It's firm and warm, and there's even a synthetic heartbeat beneath his sizable pectoral muscles. You're utterly fascinated with him, surprised that anyone managed to make such a convincing, attractive facsimile of a lover. You're distractedly touching him when he suddenly grabs your wrist. "So are we fucking, or not?" he asks, scowling at you and making you feel small. "O-oh... Sorry, I was thinking maybe we could--" you start, only for him to cut you off before you can finish. (if: $Event is 1)["Kneel, slut". He commands. "You've talked and talked... it's about time that mouth of yours did something useful". You hesitate for a brief moment, but his tone was too domineering to resist. You get down on your knees, your face level with his crotch. Currently, the opening of his sheathe appears rounded and pristine, as if there's nothing there at all. You watch, awestruck, as this suddenly changes. The smooth and unassuming opening of his sheath suddenly pours out, as if ferrofluid, before forming an impressive human cock. Casually, he turns to smack your snout with it. Pulling back and rubbing your nose, you watch as his human cock becomes a knotted one, then one with scary-looking barbs, and finally a terrifyingly big horse cock. He watches your reactions to each, grinning as you express awe at all of them. "W-why are you showing me this?" you suddenly ask, looking up at him with a pleading expression. "Because they're all going down your pathetic fucking throat, faggot" the android responds, a furious, lustful expression flashing across its face. You have only a few seconds to beg before the android's cock has shifted back into the girthy human cock he originally showed you, and before he's sloppily cramming it down your throat. Tears form in your eyes as you gag around his dick, surprised that he's even been able to mimic the taste. He thrusts down your throat hurriedly as if trying to overwhelm you more than you already are. With each thrust, his dick seems to grow bigger and fatter, as if gradually transforming back into the intimidating horse cock he threatened you with. He grips your hair, balls slapping wetly against your face no matter how big he gets, unwilling to stop hilting your face even as your throat uncomfortably spasms around the truly massive cock crashing down it. Much to your shame, despite being used like a living fleshlight by a synthetic being, you're soon spraying cum inside your jumpsuit without ever having touched yourself. The android follows soon after, thrusts intensifying for a few brutal seconds before your stomach begins to fill. As the android pumps synth-cum down your throat, you feel his cock shifting again. In a moment, your throat bulges obscenely, and you become unable to pull away. You gag and struggle, fresh tears flooding down your cheeks. "Do you recognise this cock, bitch?" he asks. You try to indicate that you don't, but obviously are unable to speak. "You should" he continues, grinning at you with a terrifying smile. He rubs your hair, his menacing smile and piercing gaze utterly terrifying you. "It's yours, or at least a perfect copy of it". Your eyes go wide. Involuntarily, you find yourself squeezing at your throat and the perfect replica of your cock currently blocking it. "I've been wanting to tell you to go fuck yourself ever since I stepped on this miserable ship. Seems I can do one better than that" he taunts, flicking your nose as the corners of your vision begin to fill with inky blackness. You soon feel your body growing limp, and it gets harder to keep your eyes open. Even though there's a knot lodged in your throat, you try to plead and beg. The android smiles down at you. "Choke, slut" he commands, and everything goes black. ... You awaken sometime later, your throat in utter agony. Your Happy Horse android is nowhere to be found. ](else:)["Shut it, runt. I want your ass, get on the bed and shut the fuck up" he commands, glaring at you with an intensity that seems to indicate that if you don't comply, he'll simply take what he wants instead. Hesitantly, but with badly hidden excitement, you climb onto the bed and lie down on your front. No later than you've lain down, you feel the android climbing atop you and straddling your thick thighs. His weight betrays his mechanical nature, heavier than you expected. "Human" he states, giving no further context. You feel something pressing against your anal ring. "Wh-" you ask, only to be cut off as the android smashes his cock into your ass. You cry out in pain as a thick, 6-inch cock buries itself in your unprepared ass. He remains hilted for a few moments as if to give you just enough time to recover before his next thrust. You grip the sheets as the thrusts build into a rhythm. As the pain fades, he has you moaning lewdly with each thrust. For all his roughness, he's definitely hitting all the right places. In no time at all, he has you moaning loudly and emptying your balls onto the sheets. Suddenly, he pulls out. "Lunisian," he says, coldly, before slamming back into you. Your ring stretches uncomfortably wide, a large knotted cock now slamming into you. You realise that he's been announcing the name of the species whose cocks he's replicating, and that he seems to have started small and begun to gradually increase the challenge. He takes great pleasure in thrusting his knotted cock into you, pushing the final inches into you with a wet pop, before pulling them out with an equally obscene noise. Each thrust has his knot crashing into you, bigger each thrust, yet always expertly hitting your prostate. When you cum, crying out and squirming against the increasingly damp sheets, he makes a point of knot-fucking you straight through your orgasm. Again, he pulls out, announcing the owner of the next set of equipment. "Tigrin" he says, practically taunting you. On the next thrust, you're reduced to a quivering mess by a foot-long, barbed cock. Each inch that pushes into and pulls out of you is delicious, overwhelming agony. He angles his new cock so that the textured surface of his length grinds mind-shatteringly against your prostate. You writhe and cry out, climaxing no more than a few minutes after your last one. He pulls out, and you're left for a few moments to wonder if he's finally finished with you. You're well satisfied and exhausted already, but you soon learn there's more attention inbound. "Mine," he says, in a distinctly proud tone. You can't tell if he means to indicate the next cock is his own, that you belong to him entirely, or both. Regardless, you're soon gasping out rugged breaths and gritting your teeth as a massive, thick, knotted, and barbed pseudo-horse cock grinds into your already bruised and gaping rear. It's too big, too much, and you're soon pleading and begging the android to be gentle, even as your cock spits another pathetic orgasm onto the bed sheets. Naturally, your request goes ignored. The android grunts, satisfied, as he begins fucking you in earnest. He buries himself deeper and deeper inside you, soon bulging out your stomach, and soon after that burying their tremendous knot inside you. Finally, having practically bludgeoned no less than half a dozen orgasms out of you, the android climaxes. They pin you firmly to the bed, not that they need to, and flood your stomach with what must be several litres of synth-cum. You bring your arms underneath yourself, gripping at your cum-bloated belly and whimpering out "thank you"s to the android. In a single, particularly cruel movement, he pulls out of you. In an instant, his knot, and the 20-odd inches of excessively thick cock beyond it are yanked out of you. The feeling of being painfully full is replaced with a truly upsetting emptiness. "You know where to find me, bitch" the android calls out, leaving you as you drift off to sleep, entirely ruined.] --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>(link-goto: "...Ouch" , "Ship - Bunks")</td></tr> </table>}

As you watch the ritual proceed, you begin to panic as you're suddenly grabbed from behind and dragged out into the centre of the celebrations. Within moments, all of the Gnolls have turned their attention to you. Where you expect them to be angry with you for spying on them, they seem absolutely ecstatic. Hands grab at you, indiscriminately at first, but soon begin to pull off your jumpsuit. Soon you're standing completely naked, surrounded by the worshippers. You try to cover yourself, but two Gnolls grab your wrists and pull your arms to the sides. Dozens of additional hands fondle your body, groping your ass and squeezing your balls. You whimper and protest, growing increasingly red-faced as your member pokes from its sheathe. No later than it's fully hard, a Gnoll is roughly jerking it. You try to pull away, but their vice-like grip quickly forces you to orgasm. There's cheering as you spurt thick, creamy ropes across the statue in front of you. Cheering that only grows as a Gnoll behind you roughly crams his cock into your behind. You gasp and cry out, a visible bump at your middle, as the sloppy and uncaring Gnoll begins to "worship" you by rearranging your insides with his dick. It's agony, but you're ashamed when you soon cum again. You moan whorishly, much to the crowd's delight. When you regain your senses, dozens of Gnolls are attempting to cram their cocks into your ass and throat. Your screams are gagged around a fat cock as no less than three others squeeze painfully into your rear. ... You become a constantly fucked silly outlet for the Gnolls' sexual worship. You are constantly gangbanged into unconsciousness, your mind quickly melting away over weeks of unrelenting "worship". --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Drown in worship" , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table> (set: $Experienced_BadEnd_GnollRitual to true)}

"I just don't get it" you begin, looking to the AI for empathy you know all too well doesn't exist. "Why send me out here?" The AI reminds you of your mission. "You were banished from Vulpis to divert the attention of an approaching enemy, since you are its only target," it states. "By removing and isolating you, collateral damage can be minimised". You let out an exasperated sigh. "I know that. I know that there was an enemy that my great grandfather defeated, I know that it's sworn revenge against me, and I know that sending me out here could save a lot of lives..." you trail off for a moment, before continuing "... but why send me out here at all? Why give me a cloning bay or backups? Why not jettison me directly at the enemy, so I'm immediately captured, or offer me as a truce? It doesn't make sense..." Your AI whirrs, albeit for a remarkably short time. "You are correct in your assessment that this strategy is sub-optimal. Were the singular objective to appease the approaching enemy and prevent immediate conflicts, you would indeed have been offered to them or outright eliminated". You feel unsteady on your feet, the AI confirming your worst fears. "There are several benefits to this course of action. Allow me to list them for you". "For starters, I am able to relay any information that your black box collects during your journey back to central command. The information on various settlements and enemies could prove very useful in the future, especially during a period where Vulpis are unwelcome almost everywhere in the system." "Secondly, the black box and cloning technologies are considered tremendously illegal in all four corners of occupied space. As such, little testing has been performed on consistent and repeated use of the technology. This data may be useful during future military conflicts where the use of unethical technologies is necessitated." "Finally, at the time this vessel encounters the incoming enemy, there is a significant chance that many versions of "You" will have saturated various colonies and planets throughout the system. With no way to identify the original, it may buy Vulpis several years, if not decades, to plan further strategies." Your back to the wall, you slide down to the ground, utterly defeated. "So I'm a scout, guinea pig and distraction, all in one?" you ask, hoping that somehow you've misunderstood everything you've heard. "In a manner of speaking, that is correct" your AI emotionlessly replies. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>[[Drop the subject->Ship - AI core]]</td></tr> </table>}

You approach the mirror in your quarters. Standing only 5 feet tall, you are an unusually small Vulpis, especially for one with a military background. In addition to your diminutive stature, your body is also lithe and relatively girly. Were it not for your flat chest and your conscious efforts to be recognised correctly, people could easily mistake you for a girl. Despite your best efforts, some still do. (if: $Player_CloneNumber < 5)[Atop your head are a pair of pointed, alert ears. They swivel towards noises completely on their own.](else:)[Atop your head are a pair of ears. One is pointed and alert-looking, but one is cute and floppy. You fiddle with it for a few moments, trying to get it to match your other ear, but to no avail. It's an adorable look, but you doubt it helps your hearing very much.] (if: $Player_CloneNumber < 10)[Your face is particularly soft and unassuming, and despite your best efforts, you can't make yourself look threatening at all. Even when you purposefully scowl at the mirror, bearing your teeth, your reflection still looks adorable.](else:)[Your face is particularly soft and unthreatening, especially with all the cute, freckle-like marks dotting across it. When you scowl at the mirror, trying to look angry, you only manage to look more adorable.] (if: $Player_CloneNumber < 15)[At the centre of your friendly face are two big, blue eyes. Your gaze lacks the piercing intensity of other Vulpis you've met, and there's no fire burning behind them. Instead, you just look approachable and unassuming.](else:)[At the centre of your friendly face are two big, beautiful eyes. One of your eyes is blue, and the other is green, a quality almost unseen in Vulpis. You blink, not quite believing what you're seeing. Your mismatched eyes lack the piercing or shrewd qualities of many others you've met, lacking a burning fire behind them.] Your svelte, flat chest is unassuming at best, with a pair of pink nipples buried in your copious, thick chest fluff. Beneath your chest is your flat stomach, which bears a tiny amount of softness, but not a hint of muscle at all. You recall doing sit-ups back at the Academy, but never managing more than 10 before your abdominals cramped so bad that you had to stop. Your waspish hips and thick thighs would look utterly out of place on any other guy, but their curves seem to suit you perfectly. (if: $Player_CloneNumber < 20)[A brief turn in front of the mirror reveals your surprisingly plush, fat behind. You give it a soft squeeze, finding that the deliciously soft flesh squashes almost effortlessly between your fingers.](else:)[A brief turn in front of the mirror reveals your fatty, bizarrely plush behind. You give it a self-indulgent squeeze, finding that the deliciously soft flesh squashes almost effortlessly between your fingers. In recent days, a white stretch of fur has formed from your taint up to beneath your tail, causing a heart-shaped patch to form on your rear. It suits you, you think to yourself, and seems like an appropriate marking for your most-loved asset.] --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>[[That's enough for now->Ship - Bunks]]</td></tr> </table>}

{ (set: $Build_Public to false)   (set: $Event to 0)  (set: $ChoiceList to (a:"")) (set: $Choice to "")  (set: $Player_CloneNumber to 0) (set: $Player_RecoveredClones to 0)  (set: $Credits to 0)  (set: $HasItem_Fleshlight to false) (set: $HasItem_HorseCockDildo to false) (set: $HasItem_PleasureVisor to false) (set: $HasItem_PuppyPal to false) (set: $HasItem_HappyHorse to false) (set: $HasItem_PleasurePatches to false) (set: $HasItem_OmniFucker to false) (set: $HasItem_IQBGone to false) (set: $HasItem_BullBrew to false) (set: $HasItem_PleasurePotion to false) (set: $HasItem_DairyDrink to false)  (set: $Ship_Bridge_BeenBefore to false) (set: $Ship_Hub_BeenBefore to false) (set: $Ship_MedBay_BeenBefore to false) (set: $Ship_Bunks_BeenBefore to false) (set: $Ship_AICore_BeenBefore to false)   (set: $ContentWarning_Luna to true) (set: $LunaWarehouse_BeenBefore to false) (set: $Experienced_BadEnd_DWNGRDR to false) (set: $Experienced_BadEnd_LunaGuards to false) (set: $LunaMeteor_BeenBefore to false) (set: $LunaCultCounter to 0) (set: $Luna_AskedAboutLunisians to false) (set: $Luna_FooledAroundWithScientist to false) (set: $Experienced_BadEnd_CatcherPlant to false)  (set: $NovaPoseidonis_BeenBefore to false) (set: $NovaPoseidonis_JoinedHaremCount to 0) (set: $KnowAbout_LunaSeaLab to false) (set: $Orca_MetCounter to 1) (set: $OrcaIsland_BeenBefore to false) (set: $OrcaIsland_KnowAboutObsession to false) (set: $OrcaIsland_KnowAboutFetish to false) (set: $OrcaIsland_FamiliarityLevel to 1) (set: $Megalodon_PesterCount to 0) (set: $Experienced_BadEnd_SharkTF to false)  (set: $ContentWarning_Taun to true) (set: $Experienced_BadEnd_BlueBurster to false) (set: $Experienced_BadEnd_PurplePersuader to false) (set: $Experienced_BadEnd_OrangeOvipositor to false) (set: $Experienced_BadEnd_RedRavager to false) (set: $Experienced_BadEnd_GnollRitual to false) (set: $Experienced_BadEnd_GnollWife to false) (set: $Experienced_BadEnd_Taurness to false)  (set: $ContentWarning_Metris2 to true) (set: $KinkLab_BeenBefore to false) (set: $Experienced_BadEnd_KinkMindWiping to false) (set: $Experienced_BadEnd_KinkBondage to false) (set: $Experienced_BadEnd_KinkGeneModding to false) (set: $Experienced_GivenBrainScan to false) (set: $Mechanist_BeenBefore to false) (set: $Mechanist_SeenResults to false) (set: $GloryHole_BeenBefore to false) (set: $Coyote_AskedAboutHer to false) (set: $Coyote_DateCounter to 1)  (set: $ContentWarning_Hedon to true) (set: $Hedon_BeenBefore to false) (set: $HedonNightclub_ProvenYourself to false) (set: $Experienced_BadEnd_Nightclub_Drinks to false) (set: $Experienced_BadEnd_Beach_Sunbathing to false) (set: $Experienced_BadEnd_Drug_Muscle to false) (set: $Experienced_BadEnd_Drug_IQBGone to false) (set: $Experienced_BadEnd_Drug_Lactation to false) (set: $Experienced_BadEnd_Drug_Pleasure to false) (set: $Hedon_ChemDispensaryBeenBefore to false)  (set: $ContentWarning_Laard to true) (set: $Laard_BeenBefore to false) (set: $Player_WeightTier to 0) (set: $Laard_AskedAboutCult to false) (set: $Laard_DoneRitual to false) (set: $Laard_AbleToIndulge to false) (set: $Laard_CanSayPhrase to false) (set: $DeityPhrase to "")  (set: $ContentWarning_Procya to true) (set: $Procya_BeenBefore to false) (set: $Procya_DayCounter to 1) (set: $Procya_WillPower to 100) (set: $Procya_Debt to 0) (set: $Procya_LostWillPower to 0) (set: $Procya_SettledDebt to 0) (set: $Procya_LastEventDay to 0) (set: $Procya_MorningRNG to 0) (set: $Procya_AfternoonRNG to 0) (set: $Procya_EveningRNG to 0) (set: $Procya_EarlyDayEvent to false) (set: $Procya_LateDayEvent to false) (set: $Procya_EventRNG to 0) (set: $Procya_ContentRevealed to false) (set: $Procya_CalculatedWillPower to 0) (set: $Procya_CalculatedDebt to 0)  (set: $Metallicum_BeenBefore to false) (set: $Metallicum_InmateNumber to 0) (set: $Metallicum_InmateSpecies to "") (set: $Metallicum_InmateSex to "") (set: $Metallicum_InmateGender to "") (set: $Metallicum_InmateHasCock to false) (set: $Metallicum_InmateCockLengthCM to 14) (set: $Metallicum_InmateHasBalls to false) (set: $Metallicum_InmateBallWeight to 0.06) (set: $Metallicum_InmateHasBreasts to false) (set: $Metallicum_InmateBreastWeight to 0.24) (set: $Metallicum_InmateHasPussy to false) (set: $Metallicum_InmateName to "") (set: $Metallicum_InmateHomeworld to "") (set: $Metallicum_InmateOrigin to "") (set: $Metallicum_InmateCrime to "") (set: $Metallicum_InmateSentence to 0) (set: $Metallicum_InmateHeightFeet to 0) (set: $Metallicum_InmateHeightInches to 0) (set: $Metallicum_InmateHeightCentimetres to 0) (set: $Metallicum_InmateBMI to 0) (set: $Metallicum_InmateStartingWeightPounds to 0) (set: $Metallicum_InmateStartingWeightKilograms to 0) (set: $Metallicum_InmateWeightPounds to 0) (set: $Metallicum_InmateWeightKilograms to 0) (set: $Metallicum_InmateMouthReserved to false) (set: $Metallicum_InmateAssReserved to false) (set: $Metallicum_InmatePussyReserved to false) (set: $Metallicum_DreadKnotRemovalCount to 0) (set: $Metallicum_ActiveCreature to "") (set: $Metallicum_InmateKnockedUp to "") (set: $Metallicum_DreadKnot_Lust to 0) (set: $Metallicum_Test_LastItem to "") (set: $Metallicum_Test_LastBodyPart to "") (set: $Metallicum_Test_ItemOnHead to "") (set: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInMouth to "") (set: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInAss to "") (set: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInPussy to "") (set: $Metallicum_Test_ItemOnDick to "") (set: $Metallicum_Test_ItemOnBalls to "") (set: $Metallicum_Test_WillPower to 0) (set: $Metallicum_Test_Lust to 0) (set: $Metallicum_Test_CumCount to 0)  (set: $YPosition to 0) (set: $XPosition to 0)  (set: $Destination to "")  (set: $JokeCodexEntry to false)   (set: $TextColours to "blacktext bluetext cyantext greentext orangetext pinktext purpletext redtext whitetext") (set: $TextColour to "cyantext") (set: $BackgroundColours to "zerobrightness twentybrightness fortybrightness sixtybrightness eightybrightness oneHundredbrightness") (set: $BackgroundColour to "zerobrightness")  (set: $FontStyles to "ArialFont CourierFont TahomaFont TimesNewRomanFont GeorgiaFont GaramondFont HelveticaFont CalibriFont VerdanaFont") (set: $FontStyle to "GeorgiaFont") (set: $FontSizes to "FontEight FontTwelve FontSixteen FontTwenty FontTwentyFour FontTwentyEight FontThirtyTwo FontThirtySix FontForty") (set: $FontSize to "FontTwentyFour") (set: $ButtonColours to "blackbutton bluebutton cyanbutton greenbutton orangebutton pinkbutton purplebutton redbutton whitebutton") (set: $ButtonColour to "cyanbutton")  (set: $LastPassage to "")  (set: $Footer_DoNotDisplay to false)  (set: $ContentWarnings to "Low") (set: $ContentWarningDescriptorOff to "No content warnings will appear. Please be aware that multiple planets host niche content.") (set: $ContentWarningDescriptorLow to "Content warnings will appear for planets that host niche content, with a description of the niche content that can be found there.") (set: $ContentWarningDescriptorHigh to "Content warnings will appear for all planets, with a description of the types of content that can be found there. Scenes containing potentially harmful or upsetting content will be preceded by symbols that represent what kind of content can be found in them: Illicit substances, pheromones or hypnosis: 😵 Player character is injured: 🤕 Degradation, humiliation, and other \"cruel\" content: 😥 Infestation & other \"gross\" content: 🤢") }

Your curiosity gets the better of you, and you try to get a closer look at the meteorite. It must be important for so many people to gather around it. As you slide down the edge of the impact crater, you remember far too late that Lunisians have highly developed senses of both smell and hearing. They turn to see you before you've even gotten halfway down the crater, and as you turn to scramble back up, a group of them drag you down the rest of the way. You're thrown into the dirt and pinned down your front, no less than a dozen Lunisians pacing around you, growling and baring their fangs. They growl around you, your universal translator struggling to keep up with them all. "Destroyer." your translator chimes, and you realise that these Lunisians are not as forgiving as the common folk. "Demon." it continues, fragmented. "Offering?" one of the Lunisian cultists asks, looking to a larger one for confirmation. "Offering," they confirm, and you're lifted roughly to your feet. In a matter of seconds, they've stripped you naked and begun to roughly grab and squeeze at you. You squirm and struggle, their intentions becoming far clearer than a moment ago. The two largest Lunisians squash you between themselves, growling insults and falsities down at you. You cry out as one of them half-crouches, the tip of a cock slides between your ass cheeks and into your rear. It's thick and pulsating with obvious need. The Lunisian pushing into your rear suddenly grips your hips sharply, rising to their full height. You cry out as his dick punches sharply into your insides, your upper body falling forwards against the other Lunisian. Unfortunately, he has no intention of helping you. Instead, much like your rear, your mouth soon has a knotted cock ramming into it. You're held off the ground as the two massive Lunisians begin pumping into your throat and ass, respectively. They have no qualms about being rough with you; they see you as a "demon" after all... In a circle around you, other cultists gather and touch themselves. They trace their eyes across your body, no doubt fantasising about what they'd do to you were you not already speared in both ends. The salty taste of precum dances on your tongue as the Lunisian fucking your face begins slapping their knot against your lips. You know what's coming, but you're utterly unprepared for it. In your poor behind, something similar is happening. The wolf-man fucking your ass is smacking into you with such force that his knot is practically spanking you. Moments later, you writhe in pleasure and agony as they both push sharply into you. You try not to pass out as your throat and ass are knotted at the same time. Your limbs go limp as you quiver and shake, blowing a load onto the ground as the two wolf-men do the same with your stomach. With each rope of cum they pump into you, you feel their dicks throbbing obscenely inside you. Consumed my pleasure and pain, you barely notice the ropes of warm, sticky cum pelting across your body. The crowd of Lunisians make sure that you're absolutely drenched. When they're done, most of the crowd disperses. They scale the edge of the crater and disappear to parts unknown. For the Lunisians knotting you, however, they have a difficult task ahead of them. They both step apart, and you go rigid as both of their knots try to squeeze out of you in a truly obscene tug-of-war. The knot in your throat is the first to be pulled out, with a lewd slurp and pained whine accompanying it. You go limp, your ass still hilted, drooling cum onto the ground. The Lunisian knotting your ass grips your tail and, in a single brutal movement, tugs himself out of you. You cry out, gripping your sides, with only a moment to react before you're dropped head-first onto the ground. Hitting your head, you black out. ... When you blink awake, still sore at both ends, the Lunisians are nowhere to be seen. If not for the liquid evidence matted in your fur and filling your stomach, you might have mistaken it for a particularly vivid dream. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Crawl out of the crater" , "Luna - Wildlands journey")</td> </tr> </table>}

With no possibility of escape, you do as you're told. You clamber beneath the taur and approach their fat, heavy nuts. You reach out, finding that the surface of their balls is slick with musky, intoxicating sweat. Their balls are so big and heavy that you can't possibly pleasure them with just your hands. You hesitantly draw closer, but as the scent of their balls flows into your nostrils, you find yourself immediately leaning in for a kiss. Their balls taste salty but not unpleasant. You are immediately foggy-headed, and the crotch of your jumpsuit tents before you've even realised you're horny. Your kisses turn into licks, and the taste is soon driving you wild. You want nothing more than to slather the entirety of the taur's balls in your saliva-- to taste every single inch. Unimpressed with your oral affections, the massive taur suddenly lurches forward and lies down, crushing you beneath their heavy balls. You whimper out mercy, the taur's heavy balls almost weighty enough to outright crush you, but you find yourself growing too unbelievably horny to continue to protest. You're in the dark, beneath their heavy balls, and the only air reaching your lungs is firmly saturated with their musk. You forget your name, simply doing your best to please your new master. ... Almost an hour later, the taur is finally satisfied with your "tribute", rolling off of you. The taur laughs as you clamber to your feet. Your entire body is drenched in panther-taur ball sweat. You can't inhale without having an intense micro-orgasm, flooding the insides of your jumpsuit with cum. You stumble away, your head swimming and clouded from the intense, lust-inducing musk that you can't possibly escape. You stumble and fall to your knees, cumming in earnest. As the world goes black, you feel yourself being dragged back to the forest. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Wake up" , "Taun Savannah Scenery")</td> </tr> </table>}

You follow the trail, accidentally stepping in it a few times. A deep, masculine scent wafts up at you as you journey forward. Before long, you've reached a particularly massive pool of the sticky, steaming hot liquid. You cast a stone into the puddle, and it immediately sinks. A branch poked into the surface of the liquid reveals it's far more extensive than it appears. Just as you're growing truly distrustful of the large puddle, which you're only now realising is a small lake, something darts up from its surface. In an instant, a pair of transparent, blue-tinted tentacles coil around your ankles. You try to yank your foot away, but it only serves to make it easier for the tentacles to pull your one remaining foot out from under you. You fall and unsuccessfully hold onto the grass for a few moments before your grip fails, and the creature pulls you beneath the surface of the gooey, tentacle-infested lake. Opening your mouth to scream is a mistake that becomes immediately apparent. The gooey, warm liquid pours down your throat into both your stomach and lungs. For a few terrifying moments, you start to drown. Unbeknownst to you, however, this fate would not benefit your new captors. You are hoisted, half-drowned, over the surface of the lake. A pair of tentacles still coil around your legs, and a second pair now does the same to your wrists. You cough and splutter out the gooey slime that fills your lungs, but it's only a brief reprieve. No later than you manage to cough out the goo, a fifth tentacle is squashing past your lips and slithering uncaringly down your throat. You gag and struggle, but to no avail, growing especially panicked as the tentacle begins to pulse and throb, pouring more of the mysterious liquid directly into your stomach. A sixth tentacle makes short work of your clothing, and its efforts to push into your rear quickly tear apart the ass of your jumpsuit. You bite down on the writhing tentacle in your throat as the newest one pushes into your behind, lubricated by a constant gushing flow of slimy, warm fluid. As the tentacle bumps and writhes through your guts, smashing your prostate and making you far more aroused than you care to admit, you begin to realise that the slimy goo must be the sexual fluids of this creature. You wonder, red-faced and with fresh tears in your eyes, if the tentacle creature is trying to knock you up. There's hope in your heart that it'll give up when it realises you're impossible to impregnate, but as your stomach suddenly rounds and bloats with tentacle cum, your hope begins to fade. Struggling and whining out tentacle-muffled begs to be let go, you soon realise that you're entirely at the tentacles' mercy. You're sure you can feel the tentacles writhing down your throat and up your rear, meeting in your cum-bloated stomach. As your stomach is pumped so full of seed that the fabric across it begins to tear, exposing your reddened and pregnant-looking belly, you ashamedly blow a load inside your jumpsuit. You doubt you could move even if the tentacles let you go, and that doesn't go unnoticed. You cry out as the tentacles abruptly reposition themselves, briefly leaving you held up just by your ass and throat. The four freed tentacles now join the assault on your insides. Another tentacle punches its way down your throat, and the remaining three writhe, coil, and squash up your already stretched-out innards. It's too much. The tentacles have turned you into their cum dump. Having reached your limit, you begin to choke, their seed pouring out of your nose with nowhere else to go. As the world falls dark and the tentacles show no signs of stopping, you accept that they're probably going to suffocate you or outright pop you, and you experience a final burst of shame as you blow a second load in your jumpsuit. Your black box activates. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Become a cum balloon" , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table> (display: "Image : Tentacles") (set: $Experienced_BadEnd_BlueBurster to true)}

Gripped by curiosity but with a knot forming in your stomach, you decide to visit the sea lab. Clambering into your submersible, you lock in the coordinates and shoot off into the deep. The distress signal is still transmitting, allowing you to find the structure much faster than you would have done otherwise. You dock at a vacant moon pool, not that others have ships inside. The whole place looks abandoned, something that becomes increasingly clear as you climb out into the dank, humid air. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Explore the abandoned laboratory->Explore sea lab]]</td> <td>(link-goto: "Y'know what? Actually, fuck this!" , "Luna")</td> </tr> </table>}

(set: $Event to (random:1,3)){ }(if: $Event is 1)[As you snake your way through the winding corridors of the deep-sea research lab, you suddenly hear a pounding sound. It's repetitive, growing louder, and it's at the last possible moment you realise they're footsteps. You throw yourself behind a nearby doorway and peer out as the most enormous creature you've ever seen lumbers past. They're a Selach, a shark-man, but must be 15ft tall, if not even larger than that. Something drags alongside them, and you realise, much to your embarrassment, that it's the creature's gigantic cock. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Confront the creature->Megalodon Near Miss]]</td> <td>(link-goto: "Sneak away" , "Explore sea lab")</td> <td>(link-goto: "Leave" , "Luna")</td> </tr> </table>}]{ }(else-if: $Event is 2)[As you creep through the abandoned halls of the deep-sea research facility, you suddenly feel like you're being watched. No matter how you spin and turn, staring off into the darkness, are you able to shake this awful feeling... It's only when you look up at the ceiling that you finally understand why that was. Above you are dozens of bioluminescent sea slugs, all wriggling and converging on the space directly above you. Suddenly, one drops! --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Swat it away->Slug bad end]](if: $ContentWarnings is "High")[ 🤢😵 ]</td> <td>(link-goto: "Dodge and run" , "Explore sea lab")</td> <td>(link-goto: "Leave" , "Luna")</td> </tr> </table>}]{ }(else-if: $Event is 3)[Skulking around the sea lab isn't turning up much in the way of salvage or usable equipment, and you're just about to give up when you see something in the distance. On a table, in what appears to be an old workshop, sits a large diving helmet. Wiping the dust from its surface reveals a tag that reads "Downgrader Helmet". That doesn't sound very inviting... --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Put on the helmet->Helmet bad end]](if: $ContentWarnings is "High")[ 🤕😵 ]</td> <td>(link-goto: "Leave it alone" , "Explore sea lab")</td> <td>(link-goto: "Leave" , "Luna")</td> </tr> </table>}]

You clear the dust out of the helmet and pop it on your head, finding that it fits comfortably, despite not being made for someone with a muzzle. There's no heads-up display, though, and no indicators or electronics. Maybe this is just a piece of junk. You tug on the helmet but can't quite get it off. The air-tight seal around the base of the helmet is inflating, squeezing your neck tightly and preventing you from prizing it off. However, your panic turns to terror when liquid starts pouring in from the top of the helmet. Turning your head upwards as much as you can, you spot what appears to be a matter generator built into the roof of the helmet. The liquid that threatens to suffocate you smells sickly sweet, and you tilt backwards so that it takes longer to reach your nose and mouth. It's no use. You can't pull off the helmet, no matter how hard you try. You cry out for help as the liquid pours into your mouth and nose. You stumble, suffocating, coughing and spluttering as the liquid fills your lungs. This is it. This is how you die-- suffocating on alien goop at the bottom of the ocean-- you're sure of it. Your mind is racing, thinking of more and more dreadful outcomes. It takes you a few moments to notice that you've just taken a breath. ... but there's still liquid in your lungs. You take a large breath, finding that the fluid must be oxygenated. Where you had assumed you'd suffocate, you're entirely okay if a little shaken up. Who the hell designed this thing? And more importantly... ...Why are you so hard? You reach for your crotch, finding that you're painfully erect. It only takes a single additional stroke, and you're spraying cum inside of your jumpsuit. The orgasm hits you like a truck, and your huffing breaths only serve to circulate more of the helmet's fluid into your lungs. The fluid. It must be something to do with the fluid. It's not just an oxygen source, and it must be tainted somehow. If you can get back to your ship and get this thing off, you're sure you can figure it out. You stumble towards your submersible, or at least, you think you're going in the right direction. You feel lost, you feel... You feel... satisfied... but empty. You could've sworn you were still trying to take off the helmet, but your arms hang limply by your sides. A moment later, you're walking in the wrong direction, but you're not the one in control. You're doing it, you can feel yourself choosing to walk, but you can't think of why that is. You need to... Wait, what was it you were supposed to do? It had something to do with the helmet. You're sure of that. You wanted to show someone, you think. Maybe if you keep walking around, you'll find someone? When you find them, you need to remember to tell them-- you need to remember to-- why is it so hard to remember? Your name is... It's... You're... ... . . . Your black box activated some time ago, detecting that your brain activity was almost zero. Internal logs theorised that you were atomised or outright obliterated, with no threshold for recording the utter mindlessness you've been reduced to. Your submersible was recalled, unknowingly blocking any future escape should you miraculously recover. You stumble forever down winding corridors, falling prey to all the perverse creatures of this forgotten place. Your jumpsuit is ripped from your body only a few days after your mishap. Some days, you are so bloated, full of cum, or exhausted from brutal sub-aquatic sex that you can't walk at all... not that you can tell the difference. Were you conscious at all, you might argue that you're at least wearing the helmet... but now, the helmet wears you. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Stumble thoughtlessly" , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table> (display: "Image : Hypno")}

{(set: $Megalodon_PesterCount to it + 1) }(if: $Megalodon_PesterCount % 2 is 1)[{ }As soon as you speak, you regret your terrible decision. The enormous shark spins around with burning hunger in its eyes, immediately grabbing you and pinning you to the wall. The wind is knocked out of you, and you wince as you're held in place with little regard for your well-being. Your eyes go wide as you watch the shark's colossal dick stiffening to its full length. Its girth and length are bigger than you are. It's a towering humanoid cock. A line runs up the underside, with either side a slightly different colour. Whoever this shark-man is, they must've gene-modded their traditional duo of dongs into one massive one instead... or had it forced upon them. Either way, they seem wholly intent on taking out their frustrations on you. You cry out as they grind their dick against you, smearing your front with pre-cum. They thrust against your face but grow frustrated when your muzzle pokes into their slit instead of their cock down your throat. Frantically, they jack off with your face crammed in their slit. Their heavy, thick foreskin falls over your head and squeezes your neck. You struggle pathetically as the constant stream of pre-cum now pours down your throat rather than onto the cold floor. Gagging and choking as the shark's pre pumps down your throat, rounding out your belly, you feel the immense shame of being used like a half-functional cock-sock. Ultimately, though, you're not good enough for that. The shark pulls your face from his slit with a lurid, wet squelch, glaring at you for not being sufficient to bring him to orgasm. They throw you to the ground, gripping your legs and aligning their cockhead with your ass. Despite their best attempts, they only succeed in hurting you. They try to fuck into you with such force that it almost breaks your pelvis, but they still can't fit inside you. Frustrated at your inability to make an ample cock-sleeve, the Megalodon finally gives up on you. The last thing you see is his girthy cock, wielded like a club, hurtling towards your face. . . . You wake up an unknown amount of time later, battered and bruised. You're slumped against a wall, and your attacker is nowhere to be seen. Your body is drenched in pre-cum, and even more fills your stomach, making it look bloated and pregnant. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Stumble to your feet" , "Luna")</td> </tr> </table>}]{ }(else:)[(goto: "Megalodon - Bad end")]

You successfully bat away the falling slug but are immediately covered with at least a dozen others. You can feel them writhing against your jumpsuit, jabbing at you with unseen stingers. Panicking, you tear off your jumpsuit and throw it across the hallway. It impacts the opposite wall with a lewd squelch, the slugs wriggling out in all different directions. You step back and are just about to flee when you notice you're completely erect and burning up. You try to touch your crotch, but it's painfully sensitive to the touch. Whatever those things jabbed you with, it's sending burning waves of lust throughout your entire body. While you still have your faculties, you need to get back to the med-day on your ship-- or at least get out of this place. You turn to escape but suddenly feel a wetness slip over your cock. Looking down, you're horrified to find one of the slugs entirely encapsulating it. It's about the size of a condom and fits just as snugly. When you extend your hand to pull it off, you feel dozens of tiny stabs across its surface. Your horror turns to shame as you cum instantly, hard, and watch the slug's stretchy circumference bloat to accommodate the unusually large load. You grasp at your cock, trying to free it, but only succeed in sputtering half a dozen more loads into the increasingly comical-looking creature. Whatever it's done to you has also affected your libido and metabolism. Your usually grape-sized balls are now the size of apples and quickly growing. There's always more cum to pump into your living condom, which is now full enough to touch the floor. Each step towards your ship takes your full willpower since each causes what is very nearly a mind-shattering orgasm. Despite the horrible predicament you've gotten yourself into, you do eventually see your submersible. You're so close! It's only 20 metres away. Just as you regain hope of escape, you hear the creature gurgle and pulse. You have just enough time to look down before it suddenly contracts to its original size. In under 10 seconds, it goes from the size of a beach ball to fitting snugly over your member again. The litres upon litres of cum, with nowhere to go, are quite literally packed back into your balls. You scream, gripping your face hard enough to cut your cheeks, as you experience the first reverse orgasm of your pathetic life. Your apple-sized balls are immediately pumped full to the size of melons, and you can't stop blowing more loads which, with no fanfare, are immediately pumped back inside you as well. This obscene display continues repeatedly for what feels like hours until, finally, the sensations decrease. The excessive volume of cum is packed firmly in your aching balls, and your ability to release it is suddenly locked away. You look down at your aching balls, which now weigh about as much as you did when you first arrived. The creature ensnaring your cock is gone, but this only brings you a few seconds of relief. There's churning inside your balls, and you immediately know where it's gone. It's turned you into a food supply, never to cum again, but too warped by pleasure to ever seek help. Each microsensation sends you into a swirling, crashing, careening maelstrom of pleasure... but you never quite manage to cum. You experience pleasure that turns your legs to jelly and has you screaming out in ecstasy, but you can't climax. . . . The rest of your life is spent staggering down the halls of the abandoned laboratory, desperately seeking a way to cum, your beachball-sized balls dragging behind you, aching for release. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Edge for the rest of your life" , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table> (display: "Image : Hypno")}

{(if: $XPosition is 0 and $YPosition is 0)[(display:"Taun LZ Scenery") ](else-if: ($XPosition >= -3 and $XPosition <= 3 and $YPosition <= 3 and $YPosition >= -3))[(display:"Called: Taun Forest encounters") ](else-if: $YPosition < 0 and ($XPosition <-3 or $XPosition > 3 or $YPosition < 3))[(display:"Called: Taun Plains encounters") ](else-if: $YPosition > 0 and ($XPosition <-3 or $XPosition > 3) or $YPosition > 3)[(display:"Called: Taun Savannah encounters") ](else-if: $YPosition is 0 and ($XPosition <-3 or $XPosition > 3) or $YPosition > 3)[(display:"Called: Taun Frontline Encounters") ]     }

{ (set: $Event to (random: 1,12)) (if: $Event <= 2)[(display:"Taun Savannah Scenery") ](else-if: $Event <= 4)[(display:"[Encounter] Taur Patriarch") ](else-if: $Event <= 6)[(display:"[Encounter] Taur race") ](else-if: $Event <= 8)[(display:"[Encounter] Taur Encampment") ](else-if: $Event <= 10)[(display:"[Encounter] Indigo infestors") ](else-if: $Event <= 12)[(display:"[Encounter] Red Ravagers") ]      }

{ (set: $Event to (random: 1,12)) (if: $Event <= 2)[(display:"Taun Plains Scenery") ](else-if: $Event <= 4)[(display:"[Encounter] Blue Burster") ](else-if: $Event <= 6)[(display:"[Encounter] Orange Ovipositors") ](else-if: $Event <= 8)[(display:"[Encounter] Lone Gnoll") ](else-if: $Event <= 10)[(display:"[Encounter] Gnoll sparring") ](else-if: $Event <= 12)[(display:"[Encounter] Gnoll ritual") ]      }

{ (set: $Event to (random: 1,14)) (if: $Event <= 2)[(display:"Taun Forest Scenery")] (else-if: $Event <= 4)[(display:"[Encounter] Taur Bowman")] (else-if: $Event <= 6)[(display:"[Encounter] Purple Persuader")] (else-if: $Event <= 8)[(display:"[Encounter] Green grabber")] (else-if: $Event <= 10)[(display:"[Encounter] Taur and Gnoll fighting")] (else-if: $Event <= 12)[(display:"[Encounter] Gnoll assassin")] (else-if: $Event <= 14)[(display: "[Encounter] Gnoll shaman")]       }

{(set: $Event to (random: 1,4)) }(if: $Event is 1 or $Experienced_BadEnd_BlueBurster is not true)[As you push through the dense forest, you suddenly step in a puddle of something. Underfoot lies a steamy, sticky white fluid. Upon closer inspection, you see that it's very light blue. As you lift your foot, slimy strings of the unknown liquid connect you to it. You can see that this puddle is one of many, with a trail of the mysterious liquid leading off into the deep woods. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Follow the trail->Blue burster bad end]]</td> <td>(link-goto: "Walk in the opposite direction" , "Taun Plains Scenery")</td> </tr> </table>}]{ }(else:)[As you push through the dense forest, you suddenly step in a puddle of something. You follow the trail, being careful not to step in it. As you follow, you soon hear something in the distance. Whatever's leaving this trail is getting closer. The track seems erratic, as if whatever's creating it is swaying from side to side. You spot the hollow of a footprint, the strange fluid already having flown into the recess in the ground. As you draw closer, you're horrified to find one of your past clones. They're hobbling along, struggling to carry their pregnant-looking stomach. You hurry over to them, trying to get their attention. When you look them in the eyes, they're cognizant but utterly obsessed with what they're doing. They try to say something, but a flow of slimy, gooey white liquid immediately pours out of their face. It takes a few moments for you to realise that their gaping asshole is also doing the same, resulting in the lewd trail you were following. Despite your best efforts, your completely broken clone continues to hobble along, clutching its seed-bloated gut with both hands. There's an immense sloshing noise with each step they manage, the goopy white liquid spurting from their mouth and rear with every step. You give up, watching as your clone approaches one of the tentacle-infested lakes of sexual fluid. As soon as they come within a few metres of it, dozens of blue tentacles coil and plunge deeply into the clone's insides. However, you're surprised when the tentacles drain the seed from inside the clone, pulling the fluid down into the lake where they reside. They then slither down into the abyss. Moments later, new tentacles dart out and back into your clone's unguarded orifices. You briefly notice that these tentacles are bloating your clone full of seed again before they pull them down into the lake for further stuffing. You realise, much to your horror, that these tentacles are using your former body to pollinate one another. Your past life has been reduced to a wandering cum balloon, doomed to cum-drunkenly ferry their seed between different lakes. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Leave your clone behind" , "Taun Plains Scenery")</td> </tr> </table>}]

{(set: $Event to (random: 1,4)) }(if: $Event is 1 or $Experienced_BadEnd_OrangeOvipositor is not true)[Searching through the plains, you suddenly stumble upon what appears to be a nest lying in the middle of a clearing. Knowing the dangers of this planet, you slowly, cautiously approach. On closer inspection, the nest appears to be constructed out of twigs and leaves and reminds you of those made by Terran birds. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Search the nest->Orange ovipositors bad end]]</td> <td>(link-goto: "Leave it alone" , "Taun Plains Scenery")</td> </tr> </table>}]{ }(else:)[Searching through the plains, you suddenly stumble upon what appears to be a nest lying in the middle of a clearing. The nest is empty, but a loud, popping noise suddenly catches your attention. You discover a massive, furry, lumpy sphere as you peer through the underbrush. It takes you a few moments to spot that it also has arms, legs, a tail, and, much to your horror, a face that looks exactly like your own. This is the obscene and humiliating fate that befell one of your past selves. You watch, your cheeks flushed crimson, as you realise what the popping noise from earlier was. Your clone is passing the hundreds of eggs in their belly, one by one, with a lewd pop accompanying each new birth. Their very visibly egg-packed stomach is drenched in their cum, and you try to hide your abject disgust as you realise they're orgasming from each massive egg as it squelches out of their insides. As each slimy egg hits the grass, a tentacle bursts out of its gooey shell and slithers off into the undergrowth. You're vigilant to kick any away that approach you, not keen on joining your poor clone's fate. Unable to turn away and far too embarrassed to help, you watch as your clone gradually grows less and less full. Over an hour later, the last egg finally squashes out of your clone's gaping asshole. Where you expect a sigh of relief or an attempted escape, but instead, your clone clutches at their now empty belly and lets out a high-pitched whine. "Please! Breed me again! I wanna be pregnant!" your clone yells, worriedly writhing in the dirt, their gaping ass leaking a thick green slime, no doubt some potent chemical cocktail. They look utterly elated as orange tentacles begin to snake up through the grass, pushing into their throat and ass once more. Through the slimy, partially transparent flesh of each tentacle, you can see a new clutch of eggs flowing into your clone. It's become clear that no amount of convincing will change your past self's mind, so you congratulate them on their motherhood. They smile at you, eyes rolling back in their head as they climax from the mere mention of their new calling in life. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Abandon the broodmother" , "Taun Plains Scenery")</td> </tr> </table>}]

(set: $Event to (random: 1,4)) (if: $Event is 1 or $Experienced_BadEnd_RedRavager is not true)[As you're walking through the Savannah, you suddenly spot deep crimson shapes shifting wildly through the foliage. You creep closer, now on guard, and as you poke your head around a lone tree, you can see that the red shapes are a mass of slithering red tentacles. They seem to be whipping wildly at anything that gets close enough for them to strike. Picking up a rock, you toss it a few metres from the creature–only for a dozen tentacles to strike it immediately. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Get a closer look->Red ravagers bad end]](if: $ContentWarnings is "High")[ 🤕]</td> <td>(link-goto: "Flee" , "Taun Savannah Scenery")</td> </tr> </table>}]{ }(else-if: $Event is >1)[As you're walking through the Savannah, you suddenly spot deep crimson shapes shifting wildly through the foliage. Approaching the aggressive tentacles, you're careful not to make any noise this time. Ultimately, however, it appears you have little reason to. Ahead of you, in the middle of a clearing, the tentacles have already claimed a victim. It takes you only a few moments to realise that this unfortunate individual is one of your past selves. Splayed out and half-conscious, they're whimpering, crying and drooling into the grass as the tentacles smash down their throat and up their visibly gaping ass. You can't tell if they're enjoying the experience or are broken so thoroughly that their body is reacting entirely on its own. As they spot you, there's a brief look of lucidity on their face. They outstretch a hand to you, whimpering out a tentacle-muffled plead for help. Unfortunately, the violent tentacles immediately punish your former self for making a noise. You clamp a hand over your mouth in shock as the tentacles smash into your clone with bone-breaking force, bulging out his insides with such brutal force that he cries out and loses consciousness. As the tentacles pull your poor clone into the underbrush, you notice a trail of fresh cum. Much to your horror, you realise that they came from the abuse. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Give up on your clone" , "Taun Savannah Scenery")</td> </tr> </table>}]

(set: $Event to (random: 1,4)) (if: $Event is 1 or $Experienced_BadEnd_PurplePersuader is not true)[Pushing through the underbrush, you suddenly spot what appears to be a bouquet of softly swaying purple flowers. Or, at least, that's what you thought. As you come a little closer, the "flowers" unfurl into a series of constantly coiling tentacles. You maintain your distance but begin to feel strangely foggy-headed. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Watch from a distance->Purple persuader bad end]](if: $ContentWarnings is "High")[ 😵 ]</td> <td>(link-goto: "Move away" , "Taun Forest Scenery")</td> </tr> </table>}]{ }(else-if: $Event is >1)[Pushing through the underbrush, you suddenly spot what appears to be a bouquet of softly swaying purple flowers. As the tentacles coil and writhe endlessly across themselves, you soon become aware of something at the heart of the swarm. Much to your horror, you catch glimpses of your visage nestled beneath the purple, aphrodisiac-leaking tentacles. You call out, hoping to rouse your past self from their fate, but immediately regret it. At the sound of your voice, the tentacles peel away from their captive, and you realise just how far they've fallen. Still coiled by several tentacles sits one of your past selves. They stare absentmindedly into the middle distance, unthinking and empty. Or, well, empty in thought alone. Physically, they are very much full. Glancing at their abdomen, you can make out the snaking curves of tentacles buried deep in their guts, throbs and writhes visible beneath their skin. From their slack-jawed maw, you watch as a thick dollop of purple liquid runs down their chin. The ground beneath them seems saturated with the same mind-shattering liquid, along with the remnants of dozens of orgasms. As you defeatedly abandon your attempt to rescue your clone, you're able to react just fast enough to shield your eyes from the creator. Just as before, it suddenly begins to strobe a kaleidoscope of colours. This time, at least, you're able to avoid your former body's fate. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Leave your clone behind" , "Taun Forest Scenery")</td> </tr> </table>}]

As you walk through the dense forest, you're suddenly aware that the canopy above is unusually thick. Only a few strands of light reach the forest floor, and they seem to shift and disappear at will. Suddenly, you feel something drip down your cheek. It's hot, sticky, and distinctly masculine. You immediately know that you're in danger. Slowly, terrified of what you'll see, you look up into the canopy. Among the shifting shafts of light, you realise that there are dozens of creatures suspended above you. Each is struggling, wrapped up in what must be hundreds of dark green tentacles. What's even more obscene, each of the restrained individuals' balls are bloated and massive, hanging painfully beneath each captive and constantly squeezed by the tentacles supporting them. Suddenly, one of the captured creatures shudders, and you're narrowly able to dodge the thick rope of cum that follows. As it fell, several tentacles watched it go, and they now spot you as well. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Watch->Green grabber bad end]]</td> <td>(link-goto: "Duck and run" , "Taun Forest Scenery")</td> </tr> </table>}

Passing through the savannah, you suddenly spot something moving in the dry grass ahead of you. You might have missed the twisting shapes, were they not a deep, dark purple. Creeping closer, they seem to be tentacles of some kind, albeit smaller and more numerous than you expected. With no bases to speak of, they resemble a writhing mass of snakes, and the thought sends a shiver up your spine. Each tentacle seems to be fighting its way to the bottom of the group as if desperately trying to escape the harsh sunlight. Suddenly, and without warning, the mass of tentacles begins to flop and flail towards you. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Fight them off->Indigo infestors bad end]](if: $ContentWarnings is "High")[ 🤢 ]</td> <td>(link-goto: "Run" , "Taun Savannah Scenery")</td> </tr> </table>}

Passing through the plains, you suddenly hear the sound of heavy breathing from among a particularly tall patch of grass. You think better of it, but only briefly, before curiosity gets the better of you. Peeking your head through the wall of tall grass, you spot a Gnoll lying naked and unaware of you. He's pleasuring himself, jerking his rock-hard dick with feverish abandon. Despite his eagerness, however, he seems to be having some issues. He has a frustrated look on his face. No matter how hard he seems to jerk off, nothing comes of it. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Suck him off->Lone Gnoll Oral]]</td> <td>(link-goto: "Leave him be" , "Taun Plains Scenery")</td> </tr> </table>}

{(set: $Event to (random: 1,4)) }(if: $Event is 1 or $Experienced_BadEnd_GnollWife is not true)[Stumbling through the plains, you hear the striking of weapons and the grunts of effort. As you draw closer, you can see two Gnoll men clad in loincloths, currently engaged in a fight. When they spot you, they growl at you for a brief moment, a wordless decree that if you interfere, then you'll be punished. They then resume their fight, and although the blows they exchange would cause you a considerable amount of damage, it seems that this only qualifies as light sparring to them. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Interrupt the duel->Gnoll "wife" bad end]]</td> <td>(link-goto: "Leave them be" , "Taun Plains Scenery")</td> </tr> </table>}{ }](else:)[Journeying through the plains without any problems, you suddenly hear noises in the distance. It's a constant, rhythmic sound. One that sounds increasingly wet as you curiously approach, and you have a feeling that you recognise them. As you draw closer, you can hear whimpering begs mixed in with the constant, obscene slapping sounds. "P-please-- I told you I'm a-- a guy! I can't get-- ah!-- pregnant!" the unknown person pleads. Your translator crackles for a few moments before spitting out a reply that puts intense redness in your cheeks. "Quiet yourself, wife. We keep going until you're pregnant, or until you break." the unknown second party announces–as if they've had to explain it dozens of times before. You finally get close enough to see what's happening. Ahead of you, leaning across a rock, is one of your past clones. He's squirming and whimpering as a Gnoll almost twice his size smashes into his ass. Each thrust bulges out your past self's lower stomach, and you're unsure if you feel incredibly lucky or distinctly jealous. As you watch your former self getting railed senseless, you realise that they're quite a bit curvier than you. At least they've been eating well since they got stranded-- you wonder what the Gnolls have been feeding them. Your innocent thought is almost immediately obliterated as the Gnoll suddenly picks up the pace, fucking your clone's ass which such brutal force that it's beginning to redden. There's an audible sound as cum pumps into your clone's insides, immediately rounding and bulging their stomach. Your clone gags and cups their mouth as the Gnoll's seed begins to pour out of it. You also spot some cum running down the rock. Did your clone seriously get off on that...? "See? Told you I'd get you pregnant", the intimidating Gnoll huffs, taking a few final thrusts into your past self's brutalised hole. "I-it's just cum..." your unlucky clone responds, cradling their very much pregnant-looking belly. The Gnoll lets out an unsatisfied grunt, and you're horrified as he starts thrusting again. Your clone cries out for mercy as his cum-packed gut sloshes, soon to be twice or maybe even three times the size. Feeling unprepared to confront the massive Gnoll and not wanting to become his backup wife, you cowardly slip away with your tail between your legs. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Leave the lovers be" , "Taun Plains Scenery")</td> </tr> </table>}]

{(set: $Event to (random: 1,4)) }(if: $Event is 1 or $Experienced_BadEnd_GnollRitual is not true)[As you journey across the open plains, you stumble across a large group of Gnolls, all congregating and singing hymns to an old-looking stone statue. As you near the group, and the statue, you realise that the statue depicts what appears to be a Vulpis in a state of undress. The stone seems slick with a gooey white substance. You get the feeling that you shouldn't stick around here for too long. {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Watch the ritual->Gnoll "ritual" bad end]]</td> <td>(link-goto: "Escape" , "Taun Plains Scenery")</td> </tr> </table>}]{ }(else:)[Making your way through the plains, you suddenly hear revelry up ahead. Poking your head beneath some tall grass, you spot a gathering of Gnolls. They're gathered around a statue of some kind, but it takes you a few moments to realise what it is exactly. You recognise it as the statue you approached before, except it seems to have been modified this time. Hanging from the front of the statue and impaled on its newly-chiselled manhood is one of your past selves. They have an absent look on their face, completely broken. Every few seconds, another rope of Gnoll cum splatters across their body and face, and they don't react at all. Much to your embarrassment, you realise that there isn't anything left for you to save. You turn, looking back a final time before you sneak away from the gathering. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Leave the statue alone" , "Taun Plains Scenery")</td> </tr> </table>}]

Pushing your way through the dense foliage of the forest, you suddenly flinch at the sound of metal clattering in the distance. You creep closer, now on edge, and soon find the source of the sound. In a small clearing, a Gnoll and Taur are engaged in combat. Armed with a fierce-looking spear, the Taur finds each of their jabs cleft aside by the Gnoll's curved blade. Likewise, the Gnoll has no opportunities to attack. They're at a brutal standstill, but you know that one of the two combatants will make a mistake eventually, potentially a very deadly one. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Intervene->Intervene in fight]]</td> <td>(link-goto: "Leave them to it" , "Taun Forest Scenery")</td> </tr> </table>}

Ahead of you, you hear a rumbling growing closer. Diving into a nearby patch of tall grass, you're able to watch in relative safety as a tauric creature appears. As you sneak up on the massive panther-taur, you recognise them as being much larger than others you've read about. You feel lucky to be able to examine them up close like this. In particular, you can't stop staring at their balls. Each looks about as heavy as you are, and they swing back and forth with the slightest movement the taur makes. You're practically drooling when you finally notice that the taur is looking down at you. They seem unsurprised and unimpressed, as if they'd known you were there and were just seeing what you'd do. "U-um", you begin, unsure if your translator can navigate the language barrier. "Tribute." the taur demands, in a distinctly off-world language. "W-what?" you ask, watching red-faced as the taur simply repositions himself, giving you a clear view of his heavy balls. "Lick," they demand, now beginning to growl at you. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Pay tribute->Taur ball worship]]</td> <td>[[Refuse and run->Taur harness bad end]]</td> </tr> </table>}

{(set: $Event to (random: 1,4)) }(if: $Event is 1 or $Experienced_BadEnd_Taurness is not true)[As you journey across the plains, you stumble upon two panther-taurs sparring. They're so focused on one another that you have little reason to hide. You creep closer, watching as the two tauric warriors race through the plains. Neither seems to be consistently winning, and both are drenched with sweat from hours of exertion. The more humanoid halves of their bodies are toned and muscular, and their tauric lower halves look like those of incredibly muscular, exaggerated panthers. There's no doubt in your mind that they could run you down if they wanted. Beneath them swing a duo of almost painfully heavy-looking balls, along with a plump sheathe. As you stare at their assets, mouth-watering, one of the competitors suddenly spots you. They immediately realise where you're looking, casually indicating to their racing partner, who grins at you lewdly. They set off for another lap, but both appear to be overexerting themselves. Whatever they're competing for must really be worth it! ... You gulp hard, suddenly getting the feeling you've just been added to the victor's prize pool. One of the taurs has just won the lap and now looks back to where you were hiding. You should probably run. --- <table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Slink away" , "Taun Savannah Scenery")</td> <td>[[Stay and watch->Taur harness bad end]]</td> </tr> </table>]{ }(else:)[Journeying across the savannah, you soon spot a tauric creature in the distance. Quickly, you hide behind some tall grass. Up head stands a panther-taur. They must be twice, if not three times taller than you. You half expect them to whip around and spot you, but they seem to be distracted. They're rocking front to back, with an exceptionally lewd look on their feline face. Your curiosity quickly turns to horror as you spot what's roped beneath them. Muffled and gagging around two feet of cock as it rams down their throat, hands one of your past selves. They're roped belly-to-second-belly with the taur, swinging back and forth with such force that one second the creature's cock is almost out of their mouth, and the next, their face is buried in the cleft of its balls. From the look on your past self's face, you can tell that they're utterly gone. The husk of a past life thoroughly and systematically throat-fucked into a living cock-sleeve. Whimpering and drooling as they swing back and forth onto a footlong of barbed horse cock, hangs one of your past selves. Their stomach is bloated like a balloon, with only the faintest bulge pushing outwards when the creature thrusts in particularly roughly. Your former self is drooling and slack-jawed, barely cognizant of their surroundings. Every few thrusts, they twitch and sputter a comparatively pathetic volume of cum into the dirt beneath them. Realising there's nothing more you can do, you watch helplessly as the taur, and by extension, your past self, gallop off into the forest. They leave a thick, sticky trail of sexual fluids in their wake. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Slink away" , "Taun Savannah Scenery")</td> </tr> </table>}]

As you pass through the forest, there's a sudden whistling noise. You have only a moment to wonder what it is before you're roughly thrown against the trunk of a nearby tree. Dazed and confused, it takes you a few moments to realise you're pinned to the tree. A long, slender arrow has pierced the collar of your jumpsuit but luckily leaves you entirely unharmed. You tug on the arrow, but it doesn't budge. A moment later, you can feel a silhouette looming over you. Turning slowly, hoping your senses were mistaken, you're immediately brought face to face with a massive panther taur. They're breathing huskily, eyeing your body with a truly obscene hunger. You don't have a chance to speak, instead biting your lip as the imposing taur begins caressing your body. Their firm, muscular hands squeeze at you roughly, and the bowman seems to derive enjoyment from your pathetic mewling. In particular, it seems to enjoy the squish of your waspish thighs and the plump circumference of your rear. You whimper helplessly as they grope at both, licking their lips and no doubt thinking of how they're going to defile you. As they pull the zipper of your jumpsuit, revealing your chest, you resign yourself to your fate. You clamp your eyes shut, the taur's almost painfully hot breath against your neck, when suddenly-- //Crack// They jolt to the side, eyes darting between the nearby trees. They say something under their breath, a curse no doubt, before seeming to decide that whatever they just heard is more important than you are. Before they charge off into the woods, they yank their arrow out of the tree. You fall to your hands and knees, face to face with your assailant's erect footlong member, before they notch another arrow and run off into the underbrush. You take a few moments to collect yourself, waiting for your racing heart to slow. Despite your best efforts, all you can think about is how the muscular archer's hands felt as they groped and squeezed at your vulnerable body and what they'd have done to you if they weren't distracted. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Shake it off" , "Taun Forest Scenery")</td> </tr> </table>}

You're suddenly, profoundly aware that the forest has fallen silent. A shiver runs up your spine as you begin to wonder if the endemic wildlife is all hiding from something. "Were there apex predators on this world?" you wonder to yourself. Your mind is wandering, and you're the perfect victim for what follows. From an unseen hiding spot, a dart suddenly strikes you in the left butt cheek. You pull it out immediately, but it's already too late. Spinning in place, scanning your surroundings for the source of the dart, you're overcome by unnatural dizziness. You blink, and you've fallen to your hands and knees. As you struggle not to fall face-first onto the forest floor, someone grips your hair from behind. They pull you up onto your knees, and you feel the cool metal of a knife against your throat. Your back is pressed firmly against the muscular front of an unknown being. At an estimate, they must be a few feet taller than you, at the very least. A growl rumbles out from behind you, and you get the impression that your attacker is far larger than you are. "Enemy?" your universal translator manages to croak out after a few moments. "I-I don't--" you trail off, your tongue going numb from whatever you've been injected with. Your attacker yanks your hair again, and you feel the dagger braced to your neck, pressing against it even more firmly. The cold metal now stings, although you don't think it's cut you quite yet. "P-please..." you're able to whimper out, if only barely. There are a tense few seconds where you half expect the unknown aggressor to slit your throat, but you're relieved when he suddenly removes the blade from your neck. Instead, with a rumble halfway between a growl and a sigh, he turns his attention to your body. There's a tearing noise as the assassin, with terrifying precision, cuts the ass out of your jumpsuit. Were you not so numb, you'd feel the air against your exposed rump. With little preamble, you're pushed roughly onto your front. Your arms don't respond, and you fall with a painful thud. Were you able to move to pick yourself up, you'd find yourself pinned beneath a muscular creature far larger than you. He must be a Gnoll; you're sure of it now. With no preamble, the assassin suddenly aligns himself with your hole and crashes into you with brutal force. You cry out in pain as the assassin's prick roughly rearranges your insides. Each thrust feels deeper than the last, and soon your stomach is aching from the meaty dick smashing into it. You whimper into the grass as the brutal ass-fucking milks an involuntary orgasm out of you. There was no pleasure involved until this point, and it feels like your prostate was simply beaten into submission. As you pump the front of your jumpsuit full of cum, you're still too numb to feel it–beyond some telltale warmth. The enjoyment you would derive from your orgasm is withheld from you, not that your enjoyment is even a fleeting consideration for your attacker. The Gnoll only seems encouraged by your body's betrayal, and meaty, wet slaps ring out as their crotch practically spanks your abused ass. You're drooling into the dirt by the time they finally climax. Body numb, you still feel the warmth filling your guts. Whoever your attacker is, it seems they were very pent up. Having thoroughly pumped your insides full of cum, your attacker withdraws. They wipe off the excess sexual fluids on your tail before disappearing wordlessly into the trees. . . . Eventually, the toxin begins to wear off, and the feeling returns to your numb limbs. Unfortunately, this also means that the full effects of the ordeal you've just endured begin to reveal themselves as well. You writhe in the grass, gripping your stomach, trying to massage your aching guts after the brutal ass-fucking you just received. You can feel your attacker's seed spilling out of your gaping hole, but the cool forest air does little to soothe your burning insides. Your pride, however, is even more battered and bruised than your poor ring is. You realise, red-faced and horrified, that you've blown several loads in your jumpsuit, and you have no idea what the face of the person that made you do it looks like. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Accept your wounded pride" , "Taun Forest Scenery")</td> </tr> </table>}

You stumble across a rare sight in the savannah; A Taur encampment. Banners flap in the wind around the perimeter of a small, cobbled-together settlement. You smell the scent of cooked meats and hear the distinct sounds of revelry from within. Given that no guards have spotted you, all Taurs inside must be on low alert. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Walk in->Taur slut]]</td> <td>(link-goto: "Leave them be" , "Taun Savannah Scenery")</td> </tr> </table>}

Taun has a Savannah (Inhabited by Taurs) and Plains (Inhabited by Gnolls), and both of these are separated by a dense forest. Player lands in the forest at 0,0. The forest exists from -3,-3 to 3,3 If the player is outside the forest but below y0, they're in the Plains. If the player is outside the forest but above y0, they're in the Savannah. The vertical space at y0 is a thin strip of trees. The player has to sneak through without being attacked, since it's the frontlines of the Gnoll/Taur skirmishes.

You're standing in a small clearing, nestled deep in one of the many forests dotted across Taun's surface. In all directions, your view is obscured by dense foliage. You can't see what lies beyond the lush forest but feel relieved that it's unlikely for anyone to stumble across your ship for the same reason. Looking back at your ship, you notice how worn down it seems. Were you an adventurer stumbling across it, you might think it had been abandoned or even crashed some time prior. --- =|= <center>🌳</center> =|= <center>🌲</center> =|= <center>(link: "North")[(set: $YPosition to it + 1)(goto:"Called: Taun Expedition checks")]</center> =|= <center>🌲</center> =|= <center>🌳</center> |==| =|= <center>🌲</center> =|= <center>(link: "West")[(set: $XPosition to it - 1)(goto:"Called: Taun Expedition checks")]</center> =|= <center>(link-goto: "-🚀-" , "Ship - Bridge")</center> =|= <center>(link: "East")[(set: $XPosition to it + 1)(goto:"Called: Taun Expedition checks")]</center> =|= <center>🌲</center> |==| =|= <center>🌳</center> =|= <center>🌲</center> =|= <center>(link: "South")[(set: $YPosition to it -1)(goto:"Called: Taun Expedition checks")]</center> =|= <center>🌲</center> =|= <center>🌳</center> |==|

You're standing in the savannah, a biome characterised by short, crisp grass and wispy, short trees. In shorter patches of dying grass, you can make out the shape of large, felid paw prints. Whatever left them must have been quite heavy since each imprint is deep enough to unearth moist earth. With vast sightlines and few places to hide, you feel distinctly vulnerable. (if: $YPosition < 0)[(if: $XPosition is 0)[Your ship's landing zone is due North from here.](else-if: $XPosition < 0)[Your ship's landing zone is to the North-East.](else-if: $XPosition > 0)[Your ship's landing zone is to the North-West.]](else-if: $YPosition is 0)[(if: $XPosition < 0)[Your ship's landing zone is to the East.](else-if: $XPosition > 0)[Your ship's landing zone is to the West.]](else-if: $YPosition > 0)[(if: $XPosition is 0)[Your ship's landing zone is due South from here.](else-if: $XPosition < 0)[Your ship's landing zone is to the South-East.](else-if: $XPosition > 0)[Your ship's landing zone is to the South-West.]] --- =|= <center>☀️</center> =|= <center>☁️</center> =|= <center>(link: "North")[(set: $YPosition to it + 1)(goto:"Called: Taun Expedition checks")]</center> =|= <center>☁️</center> =|= <center>☁️</center> |==| =|= <center>🌴</center> =|= <center>(link: "West")[(set: $XPosition to it - 1)(goto:"Called: Taun Expedition checks")]</center> =|= <center>🌴</center> =|= <center>(link: "East")[(set: $XPosition to it + 1)(goto:"Called: Taun Expedition checks")]</center> =|= <center>🌴</center> |==| =|= <center>🌴</center> =|= <center>🌴</center> =|= <center>(link: "South")[(set: $YPosition to it -1)(goto:"Called: Taun Expedition checks")]</center> =|= <center>☠️</center> =|= <center>🌴</center> |==|

You are standing in one of the many dense forests of Taun, almost entirely in the dark. Only a few stray strands of light pierce the upper canopy and save you from complete darkness. Your eyes never quite adjust to the gloom, and you immediately feel like you're being watched. (if: $YPosition < 0)[(if: $XPosition is 0)[Your ship's landing zone is due North from here.](else-if: $XPosition < 0)[Your ship's landing zone is to the North-East.](else-if: $XPosition > 0)[Your ship's landing zone is to the North-West.]](else-if: $YPosition is 0)[(if: $XPosition < 0)[Your ship's landing zone is to the East.](else-if: $XPosition > 0)[Your ship's landing zone is to the West.]](else-if: $YPosition > 0)[(if: $XPosition is 0)[Your ship's landing zone is due South from here.](else-if: $XPosition < 0)[Your ship's landing zone is to the South-East.](else-if: $XPosition > 0)[Your ship's landing zone is to the South-West.]] --- =|= <center>🌳</center> =|= <center>🍃</center> =|= <center>(link: "North")[(set: $YPosition to it + 1)(goto:"Called: Taun Expedition checks")]</center> =|= <center>🍃</center> =|= <center>🌳</center> |==| =|= <center>🌲</center> =|= <center>(link: "West")[(set: $XPosition to it - 1)(goto:"Called: Taun Expedition checks")]</center> =|= <center>🌳</center> =|= <center>(link: "East")[(set: $XPosition to it + 1)(goto:"Called: Taun Expedition checks")]</center> =|= <center>🌲</center> |==| =|= <center>🌳</center> =|= <center>🍂</center> =|= <center>(link: "South")[(set: $YPosition to it -1)(goto:"Called: Taun Expedition checks")]</center> =|= <center>🍂</center> =|= <center>🌳</center> |==|

You're standing among the lush grasses of the plains, a treeless biome that consists almost entirely of short plants and grasses, along with the occasionally occupied clearing. Winding passages of stamped-down grass reveal where others have journeyed before, likely with much greater ease than you. If you need to hide, you imagine that the tall grasses will assist you. However, you're also aware that any number of unseen foes could be lying in wait using the same strategy. (if: $YPosition < 0)[(if: $XPosition is 0)[Your ship's landing zone is due North from here.](else-if: $XPosition < 0)[Your ship's landing zone is to the North-East.](else-if: $XPosition > 0)[Your ship's landing zone is to the North-West.]](else-if: $YPosition is 0)[(if: $XPosition < 0)[Your ship's landing zone is to the East.](else-if: $XPosition > 0)[Your ship's landing zone is to the West.]](else-if: $YPosition > 0)[(if: $XPosition is 0)[Your ship's landing zone is due South from here.](else-if: $XPosition < 0)[Your ship's landing zone is to the South-East.](else-if: $XPosition > 0)[Your ship's landing zone is to the South-West.]] --- =|= <center>🌤️</center> =|= <center>☁️</center> =|= <center>(link: "North")[(set: $YPosition to it + 1)(goto:"Called: Taun Expedition checks")]</center> =|= <center>☁️</center> =|= <center>☁️</center> |==| =|= <center>🌻</center> =|= <center>(link: "West")[(set: $XPosition to it - 1)(goto:"Called: Taun Expedition checks")]</center> =|= <center>🌾</center> =|= <center>(link: "East")[(set: $XPosition to it + 1)(goto:"Called: Taun Expedition checks")]</center> =|= <center>🌻</center> |==| =|= <center>🌾</center> =|= <center>🌱</center> =|= <center>(link: "South")[(set: $YPosition to it -1)(goto:"Called: Taun Expedition checks")]</center> =|= <center>🌱</center> =|= <center>🌾</center> |==|

{ (set: $Event to (random: 1,9)) (if: $Event is <= 3)[(display:"Taun Forest Scenery")] (else-if: $Event <= 6)[(display:"[Encounter] Gnoll Scout")] (else-if: $Event <= 9)[(display:"[Encounter] Tentacles At Ship")]   }

Stumbling out of the treeline and back into the forest clearing where your ship is parked, you're mortified to see a mass of green tentacles gripping multiple parts of the fuselage. Your ship creaks under the strain as the tentacles attempt to pull it into the forest. You need to do something–and fast! --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Shoot at the tentacles->Scare off the tentacles]]</td> <td>[[Use yourself as bait->Green grabber bad end]]</td> </tr> </table>}

Approaching your landing site, you notice that someone is already there. They're a Gnoll, creeping cautiously around your ship, spear pointed towards the hull. At every creak your barely-functional ship makes, they jab their spear a few feet closer as if trying to keep a fearsome beast at bay. Feeling devilish, you tap a few choice commands into your communicator. In an instant, your ship begins to cycle its engines. The Gnoll, utterly horrified, lobs their spear at your ship and sprints off into the treeline. Well, that should make for a spooky fire-side story. Hopefully, the rumours will keep the locals away from your ship. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Breathe a sigh of relief" , "Taun LZ Scenery")</td> </tr> </table>}

You're standing at the border between two local biomes, where the lush grasses of the plains give way to the crisp underbrush and wispy, tall trees of the savannah. Embedded in the dirt and scattered throughout the grass are numerous abandoned weapons, along with the gooey signs of recent sexual conquest. You get the impression that you shouldn't linger here for very long lest you get mistaken for a combatant. (if: $YPosition < 0)[(if: $XPosition is 0)[Your ship's landing zone is due North from here.](else-if: $XPosition < 0)[Your ship's landing zone is to the North-East.](else-if: $XPosition > 0)[Your ship's landing zone is to the North-West.]](else-if: $YPosition is 0)[(if: $XPosition < 0)[Your ship's landing zone is to the East.](else-if: $XPosition > 0)[Your ship's landing zone is to the West.]](else-if: $YPosition > 0)[(if: $XPosition is 0)[Your ship's landing zone is due South from here.](else-if: $XPosition < 0)[Your ship's landing zone is to the South-East.](else-if: $XPosition > 0)[Your ship's landing zone is to the South-West.]] --- =|= <center>🗡️</center> =|= <center>🏹</center> =|= <center>(link: "North")[(set: $YPosition to it + 1)(goto:"Called: Taun Expedition checks")]</center> =|= <center>🏹</center> =|= <center>🗡️</center> |==| =|= <center>🌱</center> =|= <center>(link: "West")[(set: $XPosition to it - 1)(goto:"Called: Taun Expedition checks")]</center> =|= <center>🌱</center> =|= <center>(link: "East")[(set: $XPosition to it + 1)(goto:"Called: Taun Expedition checks")]</center> =|= <center>🌱</center> |==| =|= <center>🏹</center> =|= <center>🗡️</center> =|= <center>(link: "South")[(set: $YPosition to it -1)(goto:"Called: Taun Expedition checks")]</center> =|= <center>🗡️</center> =|= <center>🏹</center> |==|

{ (set: $Event to (random: 1,9)) (if: $Event is <= 3)[(display:"Taun Frontlines")] (else-if: $Event <= 6)[(display:"[Encounter] Gnoll Warrior")] (else-if: $Event <= 9)[(display:"[Encounter] Taur Spearman")]   }

Standing on the border between Gnoll and Taur territories, you suddenly realise someone's approaching you. You turn to see a Gnoll staggering towards you. He's at least 3 feet taller than you, his body a temple of muscle and decorated with endless scars. Some injuries are fresher than others, and some wounds are still bleeding. You're about to ask if he needs help when you see how he's looking at you-- his face contorted in sheer bloodlust, fangs dripping with blood. Whoever this is, they've just survived the fight of their life... and you're about to be dessert. Consumed by dread, you immediately reach for the blaster hanging at your hip. You fumble desperately, levelling it towards the Gnoll a few moments too late. Your weapon is smashed from your hand with enough force to bruise your hands. You cry out in pain, but only for a moment. Before you can scream, a muscular hand squeezes your jugular. You are lifted by your throat and immediately subjected to a flurry of blows, each with the force to seriously wind you. The dozenth of which sends you tumbling half-conscious through the grass, the Gnoll's own brutal punches having dislodged you from his grasp. Having beaten you into submission, the blood-thirsty Gnoll tears off your jumpsuit and throws you onto your front. You're able to crawl only a few paces before he's on top of you. Loincloth brushed aside; you feel the warrior's rock-hard member prodding between your ass cheeks. The first couple of thrusts miss your hole. What they lack in precision is more than made up for in sheer, brutal force. When the Gnoll finally manages to push into you, there's no preamble at all. You beg for mercy, tears streaming down your face, as the Gnoll's first thrust buries his entire cock inside you. The previous beating pounded all of the strength from your body, and you're helpless as the massive, muscular Gnoll begins using you like a particularly replaceable fleshlight. You can feel their hot pre-cum coating your insides, doing little to lubricate the anal annihilation you're soon enduring. Each thrust knocks the wind out of you, just as the earlier blows did. Your insides utterly fail to adjust to the penetration, and you're sure your guts are as bruised as the rest of you. Reaching climax, the Gnoll brutalises your backside at a truly terrifying speed; your pleading cries shake as your body fails to endure each thrust. A final thrust, so rough that it grinds your body several feet through the grass, is all that punctuates the Gnoll's orgasm. You feel waves of hyena man cum, almost painfully hot inside you, as it fills you until your stomach begins to bulge. No sooner than he's finished defiling you, you feel a sharp, sudden impact against the back of your head... and then there's darkness. . . . When you wake up sometime later with the worst headache of your life, you notice that the sun has drifted further through the sky. You must have been unconscious for an hour at least. There's no sign of your brutal lover. The only evidence of your affair currently leaks from your gaping asshole. Your body is battered and bruised, although somehow less abused than your aching insides. The best you can do is crawl through the grass and hope to avoid further confrontation. The best you can do, almost half an hour later, is stagger to your feet and wipe the fresh tears from your face. You collect your blaster, which lies untouched on the ground-- no doubt because the Gnoll erroneously thought that such a weak foe possessed an equally weak weapon. You can taste blood and cum, and you're tearfully ashamed of how hard it's making you. You should probably avoid the no man's land between the savannah and plains unless you want a repeat of your humiliating beatdown... or something even worse. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Lick your wounds" , "Taun Frontlines")</td> </tr> </table>}

You suddenly spot a figure on the horizon as you pass through the No Man's Land between Taur and Gnoll territories. You know immediately from its silhouette that it's one of the panther-taurs that guard the savannah. You stand still, watching, hoping that it'll notice you're not a Gnoll and leave you alone. Unfortunately, it immediately breaks into a sprint. You watch in horror as it hefts a spear over its head, then levels it in front of itself. If you don't want to be impaled, you'd better act quick! --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Run->Taur spearman punishment]]</td> <td>[[Dodge->Taur spearman dodge]]</td> </tr> </table>}

You foolishly decide to fight off the approaching mass of tentacles. You draw your blaster and fire a few shots-- but succeed in hitting absolutely nothing. You begin to suspect, all too late, that even if you did, there'd still be hundreds of tentacles barreling towards you anyway. Before you can rethink your doomed strategy, the tentacles have reached you. They swarm your legs and upset your balance, and when you fall, they immediately beeline for your throat. Consumed by dread and desperation for help, you cry out in the hopes that someone will rescue you. That was a very, very bad idea. Before you can finish yelling the word "help", you're gagging as dozens of tentacles force themselves down your throat. Tears well up in your eyes as the gooey, slimy invaders twist and writhe down into your stomach. In a terrifyingly short period, the entire mass of tentacles has barrelled down your aching throat and into your equally sore stomach. The outlines of slithering tentacles are visible beneath your skin. You cradle your distended, visibly occupied belly in both hands. You can feel the tentacles reorienting themselves endlessly, repositioning themselves in your throat, stomach and guts. You can feel the tip of a tentacle at the back of your throat, and each breath you take is husky and difficult. In your stomach, you can feel the invaders pumping out some kind of liquid, and you begin to feel hazy and warm. No doubt it's a chemical cocktail designed to make you a more willing host. Deep in your guts, you can feel several tentacles snaking through you to your prostate. When they find it, they begin aggressively pounding at it with a surprising amount of force. It's a trio of sensations that have you whimpering, whining and desperately crawling through the short grass towards your ship. Unfortunately for you, the tentacles were only assessing their options. In a surprisingly coordinated act, the tentacles throughout your body begin to impede your actions. When you try to reach your ship, the tentacle in your throat engorges and begins to choke you. Your mind is clouded and hazy as chemicals cause your already pregnant-looking, writhing belly to bulge even further. You forget which way you were going. When you stray in a direction that, unbeknownst to you, is away from your ship, the tentacles reward you by slamming your prostate. In your drug-addled state, you quickly pursue the most pleasurable outcome, precisely what the tentacles wanted. You spend the rest of your days as a glorified, wandering nest for the tentacles, never to pursue your own needs again. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Follow orders" , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table> (display: "Image : Tentacles")}

Consumed by the emptiness in your guts and the need for that emptiness to be repeatedly, forcefully filled, you climb back into the stocks. There's silence for a brief moment before the entire camp erupts into celebration. Less than 10 seconds later, another taur has mounted you. Your insides are stretched and lubricated by the one that followed; it's far, far easier for this one to slam into you. The pain you felt before is still present, but you're able to disregard it to satiate your newfound desire for massive dicks. You drool as your insides are rearranged, practically squealing with delight when they drop the second, belly-bloating load you've taken in the last hour into your already full stomach. No sooner than the current Taur pulls out, there's another slamming into you. You begin to lose track of time and how many times you've blown loads of your own into the dirt below you. You love this; you can't get enough of being the Tauric tribe's cum-sleeve. All of your gut-wrecking experiences quickly blur into one, and you're left moaning and barely cognizant, climaxing whenever one of your far too large lovers slams into you particularly hard. You're no longer drooling. Instead, the cum of your many lovers now pours out of your mouth. You've been stuffed utterly, absolutely full, and your ass is constantly plugged with a dick. With nowhere else to go, it's no surprise that you're continually drooling cum. . . . In the days that follow, you're so frequently used that you become able to tell apart the many Tauric warriors in the camp simply by the size of their cocks and how roughly they use you. The memories of who you once were are quite literally fucked out of you, and you never feel empty again. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Beg for more" , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table>}

You stride into the camp, far too confident for your own good. The first few Taurs that spot you look at one another, genuinely confused at your brash entrance to their domain. It's only when a larger, more senior Taur spots you that you begin to realise what an awful mistake you've made. Running you down almost immediately, you're hauled over the Taur's muscular shoulder and taken over to some stocks. You struggle in vain but are quickly locked in them. Far too weak to even rock the stocks you're now locked in, you're powerless as you receive your first punishment. There's a tremendous slapping sound as a paddle smashes off of your exposed behind. You cry out, eyes watering, opening your mouth to plead as the second strike impacts it. In a circle around you, Taurs all cheer. With each brutal swatting of your girlish rear, they only grow more excitable and more vicious as a result. Your ass is thoroughly tenderised until you're a sniffling, sobbing mess. You beg through pathetic whimpers for the bestial panther men to let you go. Unfortunately, they seem to have over plans. Tauric front paws suddenly dangle ahead of you, and you feel a building pressure against your exposed asshole. You let out a shrill, desperate whine as a foot-long cat-horse cock grinds into your guts, stretching out your insides and visibly distending your stomach. This is too much... you can't tell if the drops of liquid falling from your face are tears or drool. As the Taur finds its rhythm, your stomach bulges obscenely with each thrust. Were you able to move your head, you would be able to make out the finer details of the cock ravaging you through your skin. A short time later, their thrusts intensify. The stocks creak, threatening to break, as the Taur smashes into you with almost enough force to injure you-- and then they explode inside you, bloating you so full of cum that you look utterly bloated and pregnant. Beneath you, despite your best efforts to retain at least a tiny fragment of your dignity, you blow a rope of cum onto the floor below. There's additional revelry as the camp realises that you have adored what they just did to you, at least on some subconscious level. Your Tauric abuser pulls out of you in a slow, firm motion, raking your poor insides a final time. As his cockhead falls out of your abused ring with a pop, the cold air moves in to soothe the worst of the pain. You're so badly gaped that you can practically feel the air in your stomach... Suddenly, and without any fanfare, one of the Taurs undoes your stocks. They motion towards the camp's exit, showing you a rare modicum of mercy. You should hurry up and leave before they change their minds, and yet... you feel so empty now, without one of their cocks stretching out your insides. It almost makes you want to stay for more. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Get back into the stocks->Taur slut bad end]]</td> <td>(link-goto: "Stagger away" , "Taun Savannah Scenery")</td> </tr> </table>}

You turn and run, hoping that the Taur will give up the chase if you can draw it out for long enough. Unfortunately, you only make it about 10 metres before a stray rock trips you. You fall to your hands and knees, consumed by terror, as the heavy footfalls of the Taur rapidly approach. The next thing you know, your body is scraping painfully across the floor, and when you finally come to a stop, your body has dug a small impact trench for about 5 metres behind you. All the air has been knocked from your lungs, and every inch of your body screams that something is incredibly wrong. However, as the pain subsides, you realise that most of it radiates from inside you. You can feel your insides squirming painfully but aren't immediately sure why. The Taur is above you, and you worry he's impaled you on his spear. When you reach down to your stomach, you find that he has... although not with the spear you expected. When you fell, your lifted rear must've piqued the taur's interest. It would appear, rather than stab you; he instead elected to teach you a painful lesson. You reach down to your aching stomach, immediately horrified by what you find. Your gut is bulging and reddened from the impact, with the throbbing 2-foot-long cock of the tauric beast visible beneath your skin. Still winded, you beg the Taur to let you go. You're not an enemy, after all! In response, the Taur grunts and pulls back until only their cock head remains inside you, and then thrusts to the hilt. You cry out, insides burning and writhing around the massive dick rearranging them. He repeats this a few more times, laughing as you plead for mercy. He doesn't even seem to want to mate with you, just brutalise you and teach you a lesson. This is confirmed a short time later when, upon hearing a noise, the spearman abruptly pulls out of your abused asshole and runs off, spear in hand. You're left clutching your now painfully empty-feeling stomach and mewling pathetically into the grass. It's about an hour before you're shakily able to return to your feet and continue the expedition. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Walk it off" , "Taun Frontlines")</td> </tr> </table>}

Knowing that you can't outpace the Taur, you wait until the last moment and throw yourself out of the way. The creature must've had tunnel vision since it goes barreling off into a nearby tree. As you watch the Taur, worried about a follow-up charge, you notice that its erect cock is hanging beneath it. Perhaps its intentions were lewder than you previously thought, but you don't want to stick around and find out. While they're stunned, you hurry off out of sight. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Run away" , "Taun Frontlines")</td> </tr> </table>}

Eager to assist the horny hyena man, you step into his clearing and reveal yourself. He flinches, initially reaching for a nearby spear, but abruptly stops when he realises where you're staring. Reluctantly, unsure of your true intentions, the Gnoll beckons for you to approach him. You cautiously approach, lying down with him and positioning your face between his legs. You look up at him as you draw closer, finding no protest. His cock shudders from your hot breath, and the Gnoll bites his lip. Pressing your face to his length, you're immediately overwhelmed by his masculine scent. Your mouth is watering already, which bodes well for what comes next. With little preamble, you open wide, taking the hyena man's cockhead into your mouth. It tastes salty, already slick with his precum. You take more of his length, stopping for a few moments when it bumps the back of your throat. A moment to reposition and a little bit of stubbornness is all it takes for his rock-hard member to continue down your throat. He's grunting and moaning, and you're honestly surprised that he hasn't laid a hand on you. You expected that he'd take the reigns, but he seems more than happy just allowing you to prove what a competent dick-sucker you are. Soon, you find a rhythm. The Gnoll man's pleasured gasps drown out the wet, obscene sound of your lips slapping against his saliva-soaked crotch. You can feel him tensing up. He's close. You throat his dick a dozen or so more times when he suddenly grabs your hair and forces you to the base. Starry-eyed and enamoured with your new lover, you're overjoyed to choke on his dick, especially when it starts to throb and pump your belly full of his seed. He was pent up, you knew that, but he must shoot cum down your throat for almost half a minute. The corners of your vision begin to darken, and you're just about to panic when he finally pulls your face from his crotch with a lewd, wet splat. Your breath ragged, cum dripping from your lips; you look up to see the Gnoll grinning down at you. In their eyes, there's an affectionate sparkle, as if they'd marry your throat if they could. As you wipe the cum from your chin, the Gnoll gives you a particularly lewd look. You think they're about to grab you for round two, but there's suddenly the sound of a twig snapping, and the Gnoll hurries off to investigate. You're left alone, with the hope you'll see them again. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Savour the taste" , "Taun Plains Scenery")</td> </tr> </table>}

The tentacles are deceptively fast, and you're grabbed before you have even a moment to react. Innumerable, slimy tentacles coil around your throat and arms, hoisting you into the trees where dozens of other tentacles grip the rest of you and make short work of your clothes. The tentacles display a terrifying level of dexterity as they undo your jumpsuit and then pull it off of you, all the while managing to keep you completely restrained. No later than your clothes fall to the forest floor, the tentacles turn their impressive dexterity on your body. You are gripped, squeezed and examined by touch. They locate your manhood and vulnerable ass within mere moments. First, however, they see to your mouth, most likely so that you cannot call out for help or scare away other potential prey. You struggle as a single, particularly thick tentacle pushes past your lips and immediately engorges, not unlike a knot. It tastes awful, but it sets your heart aflutter for some reason. Tentacles surround your exposed cock, teasing it until it's fully erect before expertly beginning to jerk you off. As this happens, additional tentacles lap at your balls, hungrily eager to coax out what's inside. Finally, the remaining tentacles coil into a girthy spiral and push into your exposed rear. You whimper, muffled, as the tentacles quickly locate your prostate and begin writhing and bumping against it. The bulbous, slimy gag in your mouth tastes unusually sweet. You retain your mental faculties but find yourself growing exponentially more aroused as time goes on. Unbeknownst to you, your body is becoming saturated with a powerful combination of chemicals, all to make you as productive and virile as possible. The aphrodisiac oozing down your throat and pumping through your veins also seems to have an additional effect. Hanging increasingly heavily beneath you are your balls, now apple-sized and still growing. They feel painfully full, and you struggle to think about anything but finding some relief. Lucky for you, the tentacles are more than happy to help. They continue to hammer your prostate and squeeze your length, even going so far as to entomb your balls and quite literally squeeze the cum out of you if you take too long. With so many obscene forms of stimulation, you can't help but cum. ... Again, and again, and again... . . . After days of being relentlessly milked, you finally break. The neurons in your brain burn out from a combination of mind-melting aphrodisiacs and overwhelming pleasure. Beneath you, the forest floor is particularly lush and healthy-looking. You feel another orgasm coming but are too far gone to know what that means. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Fertilise the flowers below" , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table> (display: "Image : Tentacles")}

You draw your blaster and fire at the tentacles, knowing that your ship's hull will be able to withstand the small-arms fire. Successfully striking a few tentacles, they let out a cacophonous hiss and retract into the forest at lightning speed. For now, your ship is safe. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Holster your weapon" , "Taun LZ Scenery")</td> </tr> </table>}

Eager to stop either of the warriors from injuring one another, you run out from the treeline, waving your arms and yelling for them to stop. "Surely there must be a peaceful resolution to all this?" you think to yourself, feeling relieved as both creatures lower their respective weaponry. They stare at you for a few moments, then look back at one another. They converse for a moment, too quick for your translator to process. "Fantastic! They're even communicating with one another!" you think to yourself, even as the Gnoll approaches. You extend your arm for a handshake and are overjoyed when the Gnoll reaches for your hand. Unfortunately, his grip immediately makes you wince, and he's soon throwing you to the ground. Unable to move and too winded to protest, you're helpless as the Taur approaches as well. Beneath him, you watch as his gigantic cock begins to harden. The Gnoll grips your muzzle with painful firmness, prying open your mouth with both hands. You try to bite him, but a swift knee to your ribs knocks the fight out of you. Your eyes are watering; you're horrified as the duo's intentions become clear. The taur stands over you now, the tip of their barbed horsecock pushing past your lips. You're held in place by the Gnoll, unable to resist at all. Inch by inch, the Taur's cock pushes down your throat. You're pinned, helpless, and unable to adjust your position at all, utterly powerless as your throat spasms around the neck-bulging cock. Despite your protests and obvious lack of preparedness, the Taur immediately builds up to a rhythm. Wet, meaty slaps ring out as their heavy balls slap your chin. No matter how much you relax your throat, the barbed, half-metre cock punching down it makes you gag. Tears stream down your face as everything from your lips to your stomach is used like a glorified fleshlight. To make matters worse, it seems that the Gnoll has decided to defile you as well. You whimper out a pleading beg, muffled by the footlong cock down your throat, as the hyena man grinds into your plump ass. Soon, he's fucking your ass just as hard as the Taur is wrecking your throat. You wonder, much to your horror, if they're using your body as their new battleground. The tauric cock in your throat suddenly clenches and throbs, and you immediately feel your stomach filling up with steaming, almost painfully-hot seed. A few moments later and the Gnoll follows suit, bloating your guts with its seed and causing your stomach to bulge even more prominently. You lie sore, ruined and cum-inflated on the forest floor. Mixed sexual fluids pour out almost every orifice you possess. Through tear-filled, barely-conscious eyes, you watch as the Taur and Gnoll high-five and walk off in separate directions. You can't decide which of the two filled you more, and you feel utterly obscene at the thought of their loads mixing in your belly. Well... this was the price of diplomacy, you suppose. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Stagger to your feet" , "Taun Forest Scenery")</td> </tr> </table>}

(if: $GloryHole_BeenBefore is false)[ {(set: $GloryHole_BeenBefore to true) }As you meander around the bar, a lunisian suddenly stumbles out from around a corner. They're clutching their rounded stomach in visible discomfort, yet their expression is one of profound arousal. They pass you and stumble bow-legged out onto the street, accompanied by a few wolf-whistles. As they disappear, you notice they've left a trail of white fluid behind themselves, leading back to the corner and out of sight. Overcome with curiosity, you approach the back of the bar and round the corner. Immediately, you spot a hole cut in the wall. Viscous alabaster liquid runs down its edges, and there's a sizable puddle on the floor beneath it as well.]{ }(else:)[Feeling particularly needy, you wander to the back of the bar, round the corner and approach the hole in the wall. It looks just as obscene as before, with cum-stains splattered across the wall and a vast puddle directly beneath it.] Do you climb into the hole? --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Have some fun->Glory hole - Scene]](if: $ContentWarnings is "High")[ 🤕🤢 ]</td> <td>(link-goto: "Head back to the bar" , "Metris-2 - Bar")</td> </tr> </table>}

You ask for a drink, and the bartender quickly turns to fix you—only to suddenly stop mid-turn. He turns back to you, obviously trying to hide a grin. "We're out. Mind waiting a bit?" he asks, suspiciously polite. "Uh... sure...?" you respond. The bartender turns away again, and you faintly hear the sound of a belt unbuckling, followed by increasingly wet slapping sounds. He tenses up about a minute later, and you hear the muffled sounds of liquid hitting the bottom of a glass. When the bartender turns to you again sometime later, he's red-faced and breathless, but the pint glass is full of a white liquid. It's pretty clear what he's just done... do you drink it? --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Drink->Drink cum]](if: $ContentWarnings is "High")[ 🤢 ]</td> <td>[[Refuse->Refuse to drink]]</td> </tr> </table>}

After a few minutes, you become aware of someone approaching. A pair of hands squeeze at your exposed ass cheeks for a few moments before you hear the telltale sound of a zipper. A sudden dollop of saliva drips onto your asshole. It's an obscene act, but you're grateful for any lube, regardless. A moment later, their cock head stretches you as they push into your ass. Their cock feels humanoid—manageable even—and you bite your lip as your unseen lover pushes into you up to the base over the course of a dozen or so movements. No sooner than their crotch pats your ass-cheeks, they burst into a rhythm. You're left gasping and moaning as their cock slides in and out of you, seeming to effortlessly strike all the right places. What they lack in size, they more than make up for in enthusiasm. You can hear the muffled, wet slaps from the other side of the wall as they go to town on your ass, fucking you like it has a deadline. Their quick, sharp thrusts pound away at your prostate with such fervent vigour that it leaves you breathless and moaning, and you're quickly on the verge of orgasm. When you do cum, the man hammers your prostate straight through your orgasm before withdrawing and spraying their seed over your bruised cheeks. No sooner than they've left their mark, you hear them zipping up their trousers and leaving. Wow, whoever that was, they must have been in a hurry... --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Tidy up" , "Metris-2 - Bar")</td> </tr> </table>}

As you climb into the hole, you're surprised when a pair of hands suddenly grips your hips. Whoever this unseen stranger is, they're so impatient that they're unwilling to wait even a single moment. You gasp as the head of a cock immediately squeezes into your ring. You manage to resist for the briefest moment, overwhelmed by the sudden penetration, but all resistance is quashed when a violent duo of slaps crash off of your ass cheeks. Yelping from the pain, you're so off-balance that a sudden thrust sends your upper body falling through the hole. Now you're powerless and completely at the rough stranger's mercy, able to do little but cry out and gasp as he crams his cock into your ass, refusing to withdraw an inch, pushing into you until you can feel a melon-sized knot throbbing against your reddened ass cheeks. There's no way he can expect you to take that, can he? He'll split you in half! Despite your worries, the man appears to have no such qualms. He adjusts himself, grips your hips almost painfully hard, and begins squeezing his knot inside of you. Your eyes roll back in your head, drool dripping down your chin. Your insides squirm in expectation of the body-ruining knot that's only inches from crashing into you. It won't be long now, you think to yourself. It feels like it's tearing you apart already, your hole stretched almost to its breaking point. And just as that fat, bitch-ruining knot begins moving on its own- You tense up as a brutal slap smashes off your ass, and the stranger's knot is pushed out of you when you clench. You're suddenly right back where you started, horrified and aroused by the knowledge that you'll have to take those brutal inches of knot all over again. He tries again, and you do your best to relax. As the midway point of his knot stretches your hole painfully wide, he strikes you again, and the same thing happens. Luckily, a part of you is really starting to enjoy this, although that fills you with worry. The man continues toying with you—obviously loving the feeling of your tight hole denying him release. He's using you to edge himself, although you feel embarrassed that he has to strike you since you're too much of a willing slut to genuinely offer him any challenge. Whenever his throbbing knot feels as if it's going to slip inside, one of his brutal, open-palmed slaps causes you to tense up. It's obscene, bizarre agony. You want him to hurry up and stretch you in earnest, but he continually denies you release. For all the pain he inflicts upon you, you're no closer to release. You repeatedly believe that he's going to knot you, finally, but he always denies you. Instead, you teeter on the verge of breaking both physically and mentally, never knowing if the discomfort you're enduring will intensify or repeat. Just as you think he's never going to stop teasing you, he finally relents. His shallow, husky breaths indicate that he's considerably more pent up than when he began. You grit your teeth as the man pushes into you as hard as he can, and you cry out as you feel their massive knot beginning to stretch your already aching hole. You try, briefly, to scramble away from the source of the pain—but your hips and waspish rear are both too wide for the hole, preventing you from escaping as your hole stretches wider and wider until- Pop! You whimper, slack-jawed, as the stranger's knot finally buries itself deep in your bowels. Instantly, and despite your best efforts, you orgasm hard even as you writhe from the pain. Your spasming hole must drive the stranger fucking you over the edge as well since you suddenly feel warmth pouring into you. It continues, offering slight but very welcome relief until you can feel the man's seed filling your belly. You can't believe you managed it. His knot is so massive that it visibly bulges your lower stomach. When you place a trembling hand on the bump, you can feel his pulse through your skin. Each movement he makes has you breathless. It feels as if his knot fills your entire abdomen, although that's... probably... an exaggeration. Still sensitive and basking in the afterglow, you're surprised when the man begins trying to pull out of you. You had thought he'd wait—give his knot a chance to deflate—yet he seems intent on pulling it from you when it's still at its largest. No matter how he twists, tugs or pulls, your bruised insides won't let him go. Tinders of confused pleasure feel inconsequential next to the discomfort, yet you've begun to value them equally. You think to yourself how much effort it took before he slipped inside, how much it hurt, and a part of you doesn't want him to pull out of you at all. Your mind flitters to thoughts of remaining knotted, hanging from the stranger's crotch like a trophy of past conquests. You want it. Growing impatient, the man's previously gentle attempts to leave you behind soon become rougher and less considerate. With a force that feels like they're going to tear you in half, they pull away from you until finally— Pop! The ordeal leaves you screaming silently, fists clenched, with drool dripping from your lips at the final burst of both pleasure and pain. You feel the cool air deep inside your gaping ass, illustrating to your fucked silly brain just how wide the knot must have split you open. Shakily, you dislodge yourself from the hole... worried that the next person will find clear evidence of the previous man's actions. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Tidy up" , "Metris-2 - Bar")</td> </tr> </table>}

A few minutes after climbing through the hole, you hear someone approaching. At first, it sounds like multiple people entering all at once—there are too many footsteps for one person, that's for sure... Something soft and wet traces across your left buttcheek, only to be followed by the same sensation in a few different places. They're too soft to be dicks, and the number of them seems too high to be multiple people gathered around your vulnerable backside. Suddenly, one of the appendages begins to coil around your middle. Wait just a minute. Was that... a tentacle? You feel dozens of slender tendrils grip your thighs and pull on your tail, and you begin to panic. Your mind races, trying to figure out what could possibly be about to fuck you, but you draw a blank. When the man—or creature—decides to fuck you, they try pushing all of their tentacles into you at once. You writhe and gasp as tens of writhing, rough tentacles stretch past your hole and barrel into your insides. The whipping, uncoordinated mass milks your prostate, even if it probably doesn't intend to. You quickly grow hard, only to feel another tentacle enclose your cock. No doubt, it plans to siphon away any sexual fluids you produce—or are forced to produce. You panic, not just at the number of tendrils or how bizarrely they squirm and writhe inside you, but because you can feel them constantly leaking inside you, lubricating their journey deeper into your body. Tentacles swarm in your cum-bloating stomach, their movements visible beneath your skin. When you place a hand on your stomach, the tentacles immediately begin trying to mate with it as well, despite not being able to reach it. You are consumed with equal parts horror and arousal. Throughout the ordeal, the tentacles have easily driven you to orgasm multiple times—always intensifying their movements when your insides squirm around them. The tentacle entombing your cock happily sucks away your seed while the others continue their conquest of your body. You gag as the swarm of tentacles in your cum-bloated stomach begin pushing up your throat. With tears in your eyes, you watch as tentacles begin pouring from your throat. Airway blocked by the writhing, endlessly explorative tentacles, your vision quickly fades. You pass out. . . . Hours later, you awaken to find yourself lying against the wall, having been pulled out of it at some point. Your insides are still squirming from the bizarre intrusion it endured. Your monstrous lover is nowhere to be seen, and you're equal parts relieved and upset. At the very least, you were hoping to find out what the creature was... Much to your embarrassment, you suddenly realise that your upper body is also drenched in cum. After you passed out and were pulled from the hole, other patrons must have wandered in, spotted you, and then decided to cum on you rather than help. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Tidy up" , "Metris-2 - Bar")</td> </tr> </table>}

You excitedly climb into the hole, wondering what kind of man will arrive first. It isn't long before you hear footsteps—heavy ones that seem to indicate the man is far, far larger than you. Your heart raises as the telltale sound of a zipper rings out, and a moment later, something spreads your ass cheeks. You bite your lip, self-preservation buried beneath your arousal. It's only when the man's cock pushes into your ring—and you feel the horse-like flare of his tip—that you realise you may have bitten off more than you can chew. A whorish moan escapes your lips, completely involuntarily, as the first thrust leaves you feeling more full than ever before. His flare gives you an unambiguous indication of just how deep he's plundering your ass. He pushes deeper and deeper into your guts, practically gushing pre-cum directly into your stomach, making you wince and gasp, completely overwhelmed. Much to your embarrassment, you can't deny that you love this. At the apex of each thrust, the horse cock's medial ring practically grinds your poor prostate into dust... and soon you're begging, even pushing back, just so that the cock will hilt itself deep enough inside you that you gain some pleasure alongside the discomfort. Tears well up in your eyes. You're consumed by confused pleasure and discomfort; your entire body screams at you, even as you spurt loads against the wall you're leaning through. When your unseen lover finally cums, a blast of alabaster immediately pumps up your throat. You gag and cry out as cum pours from your throat before the man pulls away slightly, rounding your stomach with the rest of his load. As his tree trunk of a cock pulls out of you, you can feel a high-pressure stream of cum gushing out of you. You're grateful for the relief, feeling slightly less like a cum balloon than moments prior. Having just pumped cum into—and straight through you—the man unceremoniously abandons you. Even in your afterglow, you feel a little ashamed at having been so easily used and abandoned, even if you did adore it. Unfortunately, your stomach is so bloated with his seed that it quickly becomes apparent that you're stuck. Your middle, filled to bursting with the stranger's baby batter, locks you in place for all to see. Despite your best efforts, you're unable to move... even as more patrons discover you. Unfortunately for them, you're far too loose for any of them to take advantage of you, so instead, they merely use your gaping ass as a convenient place to aim their loads—turning you into an unwilling cum disposal. A few men even treat it like a game, trying to hit the cum-leaking "bullseye". Hours later, when you finally manage to squash free, you're honestly unsure just how many men's loads are filling your guts. With each step, however, you leave litres of hot, sticky evidence that they were there. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Tidy up" , "Metris-2 - Bar")</td> </tr> </table>}

{(set: $Event to (random: 1,3)) You scan the bar for interesting individuals, hoping to have some fun... <br> (if: $Event is 1)[At a nearby table, you spot a portly trucker. He's surrounded by dozens of both empty and full pint glasses and is effortlessly chugging them down. Watching him for a few moments, you're surprised when he suddenly looks up at you, flashing you a dirty smile and an inviting wink. <br> Do you approach? <br> --- <table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Approach him->Bear patron]]</td> <td>[[Keep looking->Flirt with bar patrons]]</td> <td>[[Stop looking->Metris-2 - Bar]]</td> </tr> </table>] (else-if: $Event is 2)[Before you have a chance to get a good look at the bar's patrons, a pair of slender hands wrap around your waist from behind. You flinch and turn, coming face to face with a slender, effeminate-looking Procyon. They're a raccoon-like humanoid, complete with a mischievous mask across the fur on their face. They guide one of your hands to their bare chest, and you suddenly realise that they're almost entirely naked—save for a skimpy thong. <br> What do you do? <br> --- <table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Play along->Procyon femboy]]</td> <td>[[Keep looking->Flirt with bar patrons]](if: $ContentWarnings is "High")[ 😥 ]</td> <td>[[Stop looking->Metris-2 - Bar]]</td> </tr> </table>] (else:)[In the centre of the bar, you're immediately aware of revelry and celebration. A small group of Lunisians stand around, hooting and hollering, and the bulk of their celebrations seem to be centred on one sheepish-looking Lunisian man and a shiny new ring on his finger. You recognise it as a Lunisian custom, a final celebration before the Lunisian is married. Suddenly, some of the Lunisians spot you and immediately invite you to join them. You've heard stories of these sorts of parties getting out of hand. <br> Are you sure you're prepared? <br> --- <table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Approach them->Lunisian stag-do]](if: $ContentWarnings is "High")[ 😥 ]</td> <td>[[Keep looking->Flirt with bar patrons]]</td> <td>[[Stop looking->Metris-2 - Bar]]</td> </tr> </table>]}

As soon as you reciprocate their advances, you're pulled by the wrist into the backrooms of the bar. Soon, you're sitting on a crate, and the girlish raccoon boy is licking his lips, looking you up and down. You trace your eyes up and down his body, increasingly aroused by his seemingly perfect figure and curves. You're surprised that such a lithe body can have some child-bearing hips, and your mouth waters at the thought of gripping them from behind. By the time he crouches down, kissing at your crotch, there's already a rock-hard tent waiting for him. Somehow his kisses feel like they're already dancing across your bare skin. You hurriedly unclothe, at his request, and he continues. Expertly, he trails kisses and love bites up your manhood, taking special care that your knot receives all of the oral affection it deserves. Precum runs down your shaft but never gets far. The attentive Procyon is always prepared to lick, suckle and swallow. When they take your cock past their lips, you're already close. All it takes is a few more swirls from their tongue, and you're tensing up, firing ropes over his waiting face and wide-open mouth. He happily swallows, winking at you as he does. You're breathless, utterly spent. You feel as if you could sleep right here and now... but he has other ideas. You smile nervously as the lithe man climbs onto your lap, immediately pressing their lips to your own. As they embrace you deeply, you feel as they lower down, taking your already sensitive manhood into their hole. They're tight and soft, beyond perfect. As they effortlessly take your shaft down to the knot, you already know you won't last long. They rise and fall with increasing frequency, whispering obscene compliments in your ear the entire time. When they compliment your manhood, gasping as your knot begins to stretch their hole, you immediately lose it. They fall an extra inch, your knot slips inside with a loud pop, and you immediately cum so hard that you see stars. If that wasn't overwhelming enough, they kiss you deeply throughout your orgasm. Before they break the kiss, they casually rise up from your knot, managing to escape from it almost effortlessly. They break the kiss and continue to compliment you. You're utterly spent, as you were before, but they're still not done with you. They bend over another nearby crate, wiggling their ass at you. You watch as some of your last load trickles from their hole. You don't need further convincing, and you hurriedly grab their hips. You push into them, your thrust lubricated by the first load they coaxed from you. Somehow, they feel even better than before—and with all that padding, there's no reason you can't go all out. You grip their waspish hips and ram your cock into their waiting hole, somehow already knowing they can take it. Wet slapping sounds fill the room as you go to town on the slutty raccoon's ass, your arousal only intensifying when they push back against your thrusts. As your third orgasm approaches, he pushes back more sharply—letting out a sharp but controlled gasp as your knot pops inside. A moment later, you're tensing up and gripping their hips, emptying your balls into your lover again. You catch yourself whimpering out declarations of love, although they go completely unreciprocated. You pant loudly while your lover silently adjusts their position, soon dislodging your knot. Suddenly, they ask you to pay up. You're confused, and they're immediately angry with you. They tell you that you have to pay, even if you're some Vulpis loser. They point down to their cock, which isn't even hard. You realise, much to your horror, that the raccoon likely didn't derive any pleasure from you at all... it was all for money. {(if: $Credits > 15)[Embarrassed beyond words, you fumble and hand the Procyon prostitute what you owe. They seem happy with the money, at least, and tell you they're available for any future rendezvous... assuming you'll pay up. <br> --- <table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Try to hide your shame", "Metris-2 - Bar")</td> </tr> </table>] (else:)[You check your balance but find that you barely have any credits to give them. When you relay this to the Procyon, their sweet personality immediately shifts. <br> In an instant, a clawed hand grips your throat, lifting you from the ground. Your infuriated lover is far smaller than you. How the hell are they so strong? <br> You realise, much to your horror, that the man you've just fucked is, in fact, a heavily gene-modded Procyon courtesan and that you've just majorly screwed them over. <br> As you're held by your throat, you try to whimper out an apology, only to be abruptly thrown across the room. You land in a heap, watching as the girly raccoon's body suddenly begins to change. <br> You've heard rumours of new gene mods that a user can toggle at will, but now you're getting a front-row seat. <br> You watch as the raccoon's feminine body becomes notably more muscular, and their manhood goes from unthreatening and small, to utterly terrifying. Their petite balls suddenly swell up to the size of melons, audibly sloshing, and their humanoid cock suddenly throbs and grows, transforming into a foot-long horse cock. <br> Mouth hanging agape, you whimper as the man approaches you. Any further attempts to apologise are ruined when he pushes the flared head of his cock past your lips— <br> . . . <br> You are forced to perform every activity that the Procyon whore did for you, albeit with their hyper-modded cock instead of your average own. <br> They smash your face until your throat is fucked raw, bounce you on their cock until your head spins and insides ache, and then bend you over a nearby crate and use your asshole like a fleshlight until they're completely satisfied. <br> An hour later, you're left heavily bruised, battered, and drenched in the man's seed. Your stomach is so full of cum that you feel physically nauseous. The man spits into your upturned, gaping ass before they leave. <br> --- <table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Recover... barely.", "Metris-2 - Bar")</td> </tr> </table>]}

You join the men and are immediately welcomed and passed a drink. There's a further celebration as you join them, and you're beginning to think you've made a new group of friends until one of the men asks the others when they're going to hurry up and fuck you already. Before you have a chance to agree or refuse, you're bent over the bar by the drunken men. A moment later, you feel one of their cocks—knot and all—grinding against your ass cheek. You down the rest of your drink, welcoming what little comfort it will bring during what you're about to endure. They pull off your jumpsuit, and just as you think a man is about to push inside you, there's suddenly an argument. Through the drunken squabbling, you make out something about knot sizes, and then the men seem to settle their differences and continue. You gasp as a pair of hands suddenly squeeze your ass cheeks, pulling them apart as the tip of a cock pushes past your ring. You tense up around it, which only entices your impromptu lover further. Having been drinking heavily just moments prior, it might be an overstatement to call their motions a rhythm—instead, they're just pushing into you, completely uncoordinated yet undoubtedly enthusiastic. All things considered, they're not a bad fuck, if a little on the rough size. Your member hardens beneath you, and you occasionally moan as one of the man's messy thrusts hits your love button entirely by accident. Suddenly, their frantic thrusts grow slower and heavier, and with a final motion, they push their knot past your ring. It's big but not overwhelming. As the man tenses up and fills your guts with his cum, you spray your own ropes down against the bar, your orgasm intensified by the extra pressure on your prostate. You bask in the afterglow for only the briefest moment before yipping as the man's knot is yanked from your hole. Turning back to yell at him, you find another man has already taken his place. He lines himself up with your hole and quickly pushes into you. You're grateful for the first man's load, now serving as a lubricant for the second man's thrusts. Unlike the first man, who was messy and desperate, this man seems intent on knotting you immediately. He thrusts into you in long, firm motions, and soon his knot is slapping your ass. He bites the back of your neck as his slow thrusts intensify, jackhammering your ass over and over—slowly getting closer to his goal. Tears form in your eyes as his knot suddenly pops inside you, far bigger than the first. You realise, much to your shock and arousal, that the men are fucking you in order of smallest to biggest knot. You gasp, pleasure piercing the discomfort in your guts, and blow a load against the underside of the bar, while the man does the same with your ass. When the afterglow fades, the man grips your hips for leverage, taking multiple attempts before finally managing to yank his knot out of your aching ass. Another man replaces him, giving you no time to rest. From their tip alone, you can tell they're considerably larger than the last man. Unlike the prior men, you don't need to wait for their knot to stretch you uncomfortably, finding that it accomplishes it almost immediately. You wince as he grips your tail and uses it to steady his first thrust, which easily bulges your stomach. Your mouth hangs agape as you scream silently, consumed with both pain and pleasure. He wastes no time ramping up the intensity, slamming into you so hard that each thrust visibly distends your stomach to the point of bruising your skin from the inside. They thrust deeper and deeper, and each time more roughly. Your entire body, confused at how roughly you're being treated, responds with one of the most confused orgasms you've ever experienced. You shudder and writhe around your lover's cock as it wrecks your insides, yet you know that more is yet to come... Tears roll down your face as their knot finally, barely, pops inside you. Their knot is so huge that a bulge is visible in your lower stomach. Cum floods your stomach, rounding your belly and hiding the cock-bulge beneath the sheer quantity of fluid. Before the man's orgasm is done, he suddenly braces a hand on your lower back and pulls with all his might—pulling his knot out of you with a meaty pop, then spraying the remaining half of his orgasm over your back. You gasp as your insides spasm from all of the abuse. It hurts, but you can't deny that you love being their knot slut. Still, it might be time to excuse yourself before losing your mind. Opening your mouth, you're immediately shocked when something heavy flops on your back. Whatever it is, it's heavy enough to hurt your back, and it's only when you feel it leaking down your shoulder that you realise you're—or about to be—utterly fucked. The last man adjusts, lifting his body-weight cock from your back and aligning it with your already abused hole. The men all cheer as his tip pushes into you, already feeling larger than the first man's entire cock. You're immediately aware that something is different—size aside, his cock doesn't feel Lunisian—instead, it feels like something more at home on a horse. The only difference you can feel, as he pushes so far into you it bulges your cum-inflated stomach, is a massive, throbbing knot at the base of his cock. At the apex of the first thrust, you can feel the man's knot squashing against your ass and are deeply worried when it completely dwarfs it. There's no way they can expect to fit that inside you, right? A few thrusts later, he's smashing so deeply into your ass that it physically knocks the air from your lungs. You feel like a fleshlight, and you suspect one that's in real danger of being permanently damaged. His thrusts intensify, and you grab the bartop, crying out as the man begins fucking you in earnest. He smashes into you with brutal, reckless abandon. A crowd soon gathers, not including the other Lunisian men, who watch as your stomach bulges and distends with each thrust. You're drooling now, alongside the tears. You can taste cum, despite only ever taking it up the ass. Your stomach audibly sloshes with the cum of the past men, as well as the pints of precum your new lover seems to produce with each thrust. When the man approaches orgasm, he calls the other men to hold you in place—it's the only way he can squeeze his melon-sized plug inside you. They're more than happy to oblige, even as you protest and cry out. When your hole stretches around the fattest part of his knot, you do your best to prepare yourself for the inevitable. POP! Your insides spasm around the man's monstrous cock and bitch-annihilating knot as a mixture of mind-breaking pleasure and pain overtakes you. Part of you wants to beg for mercy, and the other feels deeply, intensely jealous of the man's future bride. By the time he's done wrecking your insides, you doubt any other man will be able to please you. Half-conscious, leaking cum from both ends and gaping so prominently that the smoke-filled bar air is soothing your aching guts, you're horrified when one of the men asks about round two. . . . You lie aching, gaping, and utterly drenched in cum. The constant barrage of throbbing dicks and blimping knots has left you exhausted and on the verge of breaking. The soon-to-be-married Lunisian crouches by your twitching body, taking a moment to wipe his foot-long, cum-covered dick off in your hair. "Tell anyone about this, me 'n' the boys'll break you next time... and not in the fun way. Got it?" he asks, growling quietly. "O-ok..." you try to whimper out but only succeed in gurgling through the cum that now fills your cheeks. Satisfied with your answer, or perhaps knowing that nobody would possibly believe you, the man leaves you to marinate in his and the other men's juices. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Gurgle and whimper", "Metris-2 - Bar")</td> </tr> </table>}

You approach the trucker, albeit cautiously, and he continues to flash the same obscene grin at you. He's undressing you—fucking you even—with his eyes. When you get close enough, you're able to get a better look at him. He's portly and a bit overweight, but there's very obvious muscle buried right beneath. Were it not for the cap on his head, which clearly displays the logo of a long-distance hauling company, you might mistake him for a strongman of some kind. You open your mouth to say hello, compliment him, and maybe get his name before you get started, but you never get that far... Without further dialogue, the rugged bear grips your head and forcefully pushes you down under the table. A moment later, your face is grinding against the fabric of his crotch. He thrusts against your face impatiently, too drunk to realise that his manhood is still in his clothes. Hurriedly, you undo his belt and pull down his zipper. No sooner than you've done that, his girthy dick flops out against your face. Immediately, you can tell how needy the trucker must be. He's already leaking pre, making a mess of your face and hair. His duo of apple-sized balls are almost audibly sloshing, given how full they are. You gulp, half with hunger and half with worry, as you realise their contents will soon be pumped down your throat. You try to take his head into your mouth, but he's so impatient that he thrusts—missing and smearing pre across your cheek. You adjust, but he thrusts again, getting precum in your hair. You're growing frustrated, although he suddenly grips your hair and moves again, this time slamming straight past your lips. You gag as your face is buried around the base of the bear's cock, his thick musk flooding your nostrils and causing intense, if confused, arousal to bubble through your body. He grunts loudly as he yanks your hair, pulling your head away until his tip barely passes your lips, before suddenly smashing your face back down into his crotch. You gag and cry out as the man's cock crashes down your throat again. To say he builds up a rhythm would be... a massive overstatement. Instead, he simply uses your face like a fleshlight, hammering away at the back of your throat with uncoordinated strength, bringing tears to your eyes. When the man tenses up a few minutes later, panting as they drop a massive load down your throat, you're incredibly relieved. You gulp down every drop of his seed and then wait for him to release you... but he never does. Instead, you're left whimpering and overwhelmed when he immediately begins to fuck your face again, no less horny than before. . . . Hours later, you've had so much cum pumped down your throat that you look pregnant—hell, you wouldn't be surprised if you were—and cum bubbles from your nose with each exhale. The trucker is markedly sloppier than before, although no less aroused. In your oxygen-starved brain, you fleetingly wonder if you're going to drown in his cum, and you unload a truly shameful orgasm inside your jumpsuit, one of many pleasureless loads you've produced during your embarrassing hours of being face-fucked. Suddenly, a voice booms out across the bar, "Hey! There you are, you lazy ass! You held up the entire caravan!". You're able to turn your head just far enough to see a more senior-looking trucker standing by the door, face flushed red with sheer fury. The trucker currently hilted in your throat jolts up, sending your dick-impaled face colliding with the underside of the table. "S-sir!". The bear roughly pulls your head from his crotch with an obscenely wet pop and pushes you aside. The more senior crew member spots you, his face turns bright red, and then he points to the door, enraged. The trucker who sloppily face-fucked you most of the night staggers out, hurrying to fasten the crotch of their uniform. Within moments, your existence is forgotten. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Well... at least you got free drinks...", "Metris-2 - Bar")</td> </tr> </table>}

{(set: $Event to (random: 1,4)) }(if: $KinkLab_BeenBefore is false)[You're not entirely sure what a "Kink laboratory" entails, but you're too curious to avoid a brief visit. You make your way through a pair of automatic doors, finding that the foyer inside is suspiciously chaotic-looking. At the front desk, the communication terminal lists a dozen missed messages, and paper documents are scattered around the room, with some even having fallen on the floor. After some hesitation, you call out. "Hello! Is anyone there?". There's silence, then the sounds of equipment clattering to the floor. A moment later, a dishevelled-looking mouse half-falls out of a nearby doorway. They take a moment to pinch out their smouldering whiskers and cough up a small plume of smoke. "A customer? A volunteer? How can I help you?" they ask, getting uncomfortably close. They're blatantly examining you while waiting for you to answer, even scanning you with a few pieces of equipment. "I--uh. I just wanted to see what this place was..." you stammer out after a few unsure moments. "You don't know?" the mouse asks, somewhat shocked. "Why! This is the finest laboratory of illicit devices and activities for almost a thousand kilometres!" You note that there aren't any other settlements in that distance, nor are there likely to be any competing laboratories. "R-right... well, what services do you offer?" you respond, watching as the disconcerting scientist's eyes light up. "I'm so glad you asked!" he practically yells, taking out a holopad and showing you an itinerary of services.](else:)[(if: $Event is 1 and $Experienced_BadEnd_KinkMindWiping is true)[You walk into the kink laboratory and immediately come face to face with one of your past selves. They're standing behind the front counter, unmoving, with a vacant expression on their face. As you examine your former self, they don't react at all. Even as the scientist you did this to you casually saunters over. "Are they alright?" you shakily ask, trying to hide the worst of your concern. "They haven't done anything since I arrived." The mouse gives your former self a casual slap on the ass, and they don't even flinch. "Oh yeah, this dumb slut got a ton of downgrades not too long ago. They're a piece of equipment by this point.". "E-equipment?" you ask incredulously. He lists some uses, using his fingers to help count them all—something you'd do for a grocery list, not a sentient being. "They take my calls, let me know when people arrive, take care of all my intimate needs, participate in tests... basically, the best lab partner I've ever had.". "Anyhow, were you here for one of our services? I promise you won't end up like this dumbass." You severely doubt that... ](else-if: $Event is 2 and $Experienced_BadEnd_KinkBondage is true)[Walking into the kink laboratory, you're immediately shocked by the obscene sight that awaits you. Ahead of you, suspended from the ceiling and practically entombed in leather straps and bulky locks, is your prior self. What's worse about their humiliating predicament, they're currently being used by a pair of Lunisian mercenaries. You watch, horrified, as just seconds after walking into the room, they knot your past self's throat and ass before abruptly tugging their way out of their abused holes. Both men tidy up and leave without so much as checking that their impromptu lover is alright. As they barge past you, both shoot you a lewd grin. "Oh, a customer!" the scientist mouse eventually blurts out, having been watching the show from behind the counter. You watch as they tuck away their equipment and do up a few buttons on their lab coat. "Here for a service?" they ask "--or just here to use this slut, like the last dozen guys?". ](else-if: $Event is 3 and $Experienced_BadEnd_KinkGeneModding is true)[You walk into the kink laboratory and immediately spot the scientist from the last visit. They're behind the front counter, leaning shakily against it, their face contorted into a hazy look of lust and pleasure. From beneath the counter, there's a symphony of slurping and gagging, and it's immediately apparent what's happening just out of sight. After an uncomfortable amount of time, the mouse finally notices you standing there. They bolt upright, a wet pop accompanying the movement. "Oh, another customer? What can I do for you?" they ask, wiping drool from their chin. "Why did you stop...? I love you... Please..." comes a second voice from beneath the desk, one that you recognise as your own. The mouse abruptly thrusts his hips beneath the desk, and the second voice is replaced by the same obscene slurping as before. "S-so, what were you after?" they ask again, biting their lip. ](else:)[You walk into the kink laboratory and are quickly met by the excitable mouse from before. "A brand new customer! Are you here to try some of your services?" they ask, bubbling with excitement. You stand in silence for a few moments, but the scientist's expression doesn't change. They really don't remember you at all... ]] --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Hypnosis->Kink lab - Hypnosis]](if: $ContentWarnings is "High")[ 😵 ]</td> <td>[[Mind-wiping->Kink lab - Mind-wipe]](if: $ContentWarnings is "High")[ 😵 ]</td> </tr> <tr> <td>[[Extreme bondage->Kink lab - Bondage]](if: $ContentWarnings is "High")[ 😥 ]</td> <td>[[Bimbo gene therapy->Kink lab - Gene therapy]](if: $ContentWarnings is "High")[ 😵 ]</td> </tr> <tr> <td>[[Nevermind->Metris-2]]</td> <td></td> </tr> </table>}

No later than you've said the word "Hypnosis", the ecstatic scientist is pulling you into the back room. They tell you to strip down and sit in a nearby chair, and despite your reservations, you're happy to comply. Now nude, you sit in the padded chair in the centre of the room. It's comfortable. You let your guard down for a single moment, when suddenly-- You flinch as an array of straps and bindings suddenly spring out of the arms and legs of the chair, restricting your own before you can so much as react. Alongside the sudden restraints, a purple-tinted visor suddenly lowers down over your eyes, attaching itself to your face with no worry of falling off. The mouse waves a remote in front of you. It has two buttons, one green and one red. They grin at you, eyes hidden behind the shine of their glasses. "Let's try some word association, shall we?" You gulp, fear rising. The atmosphere in the room suddenly feels imposing and unknown. "Slut", the mouse says, manufactured disgust in their voice. As they speak, they hit the green button on their remote, and the visor over your eyes suddenly pulses multicoloured light into your eyes. The option to shut your eyes suddenly becomes alien and far away, buried beneath the sensations. You feel distant and small, and when you finally return to reality, you realise that your dick is rock hard and throbbing, fully erect. The mouse straddles your lap, whispering into your ear. "Fucking slut." they practically spit at you, hitting the button again. You tense up, letting out an involuntary moan. Pre drips down your length as your cock throbs almost painfully hard. The mouse places a hand on your cheek, looking into your eyes. "Whore", they coo at you, pressing the button. You fail to stifle a moan as a rope of cum suddenly fires across the room-- ejected with enough force to hit the wall on the opposite side of the room. Your heart's racing, your body clenching as you cum harder than ever before. The mouse watches you, biting their lip, and you know you're far, far from done. Suddenly, and without any warning, the mouse strikes your cheek with a painful, open-palmed slap. A second later, they hit the button again, causing the pain to melt together with the pleasure, and you confusedly shoot a second load across the room-- albeit not reaching the far wall this time. They backhand the opposite cheek, whipping your head in the opposite direction. "Pathetic fucktoy, why are you making this so easy?" they hammer the button again, coalescing pain, pleasure and insult, but you only manage a few pathetic spurts. You're left shuddering, ropes of cum growing less voluminous with each orgasm until your aching balls are barely leaking. Not content with your overwhelmed state, the mouse begins to scroll down a list of other demeaning names. Each one is accompanied by pleasure, unlike anything you've ever felt before. You love it, you love this, wholeheartedly... if the act of being demeaned and insulted was a lover, you'd allow them to do whatever they pleased to you. The act of receiving insults quickly feels as natural as breathing. Suddenly, the mouse scoots up your lap, being careful to avoid all of the cum you've leaked everywhere. "What if..." they begin, whispering against your cheek, "...I just pressed this button until you broke. You swallow hard, you want them to let you go, but you know how good that'd feel. They turn the remote to you, so you can watch them tracing their finger over the surface of the green button. They never quite do it with enough force for it to activate, though, and you're seconds from begging them to ruin you when they suddenly grip your muzzle shut. "Too easy", they chuckle, practically breaking your heart by denying you such a truly delicious fate. "Instead... why don't we adjust your mind a little bit more, so you can find all sorts of enjoyment all by yourself?". They smile at you with a terrifying grin, one that you might expect from a shark, not a mouse. "Yes!" they suddenly call out, smiling. You are buffeted by the most intense orgasm of your life, your body throbbing so hard that it hurts your heart. You've stopped caring about how much you're drooling at this point. "No," they say with exaggerated revulsion. They press the red button on the remote, and you experience a hollow, crippling dread. It's as if all the stars in the sky have disappeared, your quest, motivations, and desires all utterly obliterated. It is emptiness so intense and complete that you instantly begin to sob. For the next hour, the scientist does nothing but state those two words. Every "Yes" brings you to what borders on mind-shattering pleasure, and every "No" is the worst psychological torture you can fathom. An hour later, tears streaming down your face and drool dripping down your chin, your balls painfully empty, it feels as though the mouse and his machine have driven a stake through your very soul. Just as you're about to break, the restraints on your arms and legs suddenly disengage. The mouse claps excitedly, watching as you wipe the drool and tears from your face. "That should do it! You can go now." You reach for your discarded clothes-- "No." You freeze, and your muscles seize up. You're not connected to the machine, but that awful feeling of emptiness is suddenly pouring through you. "You're going to leave those behind, aren't you?" he asks, watching you intently. "W-what, I-" you begin, but as soon as you so much as consider the word "No", the emptiness becomes unbearable. Unable to think, you blurt out a desperate "Yes!". Before you know what you're doing, you're walking out the laboratory doors. Completely nude. Panic sets in; the pirate-infested Metris-2 is probably the worst place in the galaxy for a walk of shame, so you run instead. You sprint, shielding yourself from the countless voyeurs, hoping that you can make it back to your ship before someone takes advantage of your compromised psyche. Despite all of the stares, you do an outstanding job at weaving, ducking and sneaking your way through the station. It's only when you round a corner, bumping into the chest of an imposing pirate, that your luck takes a sharp turn for the worst. "Watch where you're walking, fucking slut" That's all it took... You drop to your knees, mouth watering, and beg the stranger to ruin you. They glare down at you, insulting you for wasting their time. It's only when their insults drive you to orgasm that they finally realise how broken you are. You're dragged by the hair into a sleazy back room where a dozen other pirates are playing cards. The original pirate is quick to tell them all about how you fall apart at the slightest insult, and the group immediately decides to have fun with you. Over the next few days, every orifice you own are subject to the most diverse sexual exploration in the galaxy, and you agree willingly to every second of it. Every agreement floods your body with a more potent euphoria yet sends you down the path of more extreme, more debauched activities with even more unscrupulous individuals. By the end of the year, the way countless individuals are using and abusing you becomes too much to bear, and your psyche eventually disintegrates under the weight of unbelievable pleasure. Your last words before breaking are "Yes!". --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Cave under the humiliation" , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table> (display: "Image : Hypno")}

(set: $Experienced_BadEnd_KinkMindWiping to true){ }You take a deep breath, unsure what could possibly drive you to make this decision. "The mind-wipe sounds interesting..." you murmur out with well-warranted trepidation. In an instant, the mouse has grabbed your wrist and is excitedly pulling you into his laboratory. Whirring machines and devices are scattered around the room. It's so haphazard. It's as if the mouse never finishes a project before starting another one. You're suddenly pushed backwards, landing in a comfortable surgical chair. You flinch as synthetic straps suddenly burst out of the chair, ensnaring you around your wrists and ankles. They're firm, albeit not too tight. However, you quickly discover that they're durable and offer you zero chance of escape. "A-actually", you begin ", Perhaps one of the other options might be nice?" The scientist seems utterly despondent, although his attempt at sincerity is far from convincing. "Aw... you've changed your mind?" The mouse casually reaches for a nearby console, pressing a bright red button. There's a flash of light, although you're not sure why. What were you thinking about? You can't quite remember... The mouse smiles at you, watching as your train of thought derails directly into the abyss. "...That makes two of us." As you confusedly wonder what he's talking about, you suddenly realise that a tent is visible beneath the stretchy fabric of your jumpsuit. You try to hide it but to no avail. The mouse spots it immediately, tracing a finger across your bulge, grinning as it twitches under his touch. Right hand squeezing at your crotch, his left hovers over that bright red button. "Oh, perhaps I should have mentioned," he begins. "This machine trades your memories for pleasure." You're horrified but undoubtedly aroused. You can feel precum leaking out across the skin of your lower stomach. "C'mon, one more trade. I'm sure you'll climax, really!" he says, not that you believe him. Still... you're so close... "Ok, but only one more..." you murmur out. "What's your favourite food?" he asks. That's an innocent enough question, you think to yourself. You can always just try more food until you remember or develop a different favourite. "It's-" There's a flash, and you go slack-jawed for a few moments. Precum now pools on your lower stomach and runs down the side of your torso. "What's your favourite colour?" he asks. "Oh, it's-" you begin, only for another flash to leave you just as confused as before. When you regain your senses, you've drooled down your chin. You can feel your cock throbbing yet feel no closer to cumming than you did before. Unrelenting in his questions, his grin suddenly becomes more menacing. "Where is your ship?" You open your mouth but suddenly shake your head. That's a huge step up from the previous two questions! Incredulous and feeling betrayed, you suddenly yell at the mouse. "Wait a minute, I need to know where my ship is, and you said I'd cum two questions ago!" "Hm? What was that?" he responds, obviously not taking you seriously. Blood boiling, you try to repeat your question. "You said I'd-" He hits the button, and your mind goes blank. You remember agreeing to give him more information but don't remember why. You suppose it can't be that important if you don't remember it. "Ready to continue? You do remember agreeing to continue, don't you?" You don't remember but feel stupid for not remembering. Your head feels fuzzy, so you just play along. "Y-yes, of course. Let's continue." "Where are you from?" "What is your job?" "How old are you?" "Who are your friends?" "What's your mission?" The questions just keep coming, and their answers continue to disappear. You're vaguely aware that any information you offer will be permanently obliterated, but you just can't stop. With each answer, he plucks away another part of you—and you edge slightly closer to release. It gets easier to offer yourself as your personality deteriorates. The tethers connecting you to your old life, the reasons you'd want to remain yourself, are expertly severed one at a time... and you think you are deluded into believing you're willingly consenting to each step closer to nothingness. Finally, he reaches the last question. "What is your name?" he asks, voice gentle as silk. He offers you oblivion, and you know it. You hesitate, even as a husk. With your name, perhaps you could rediscover yourself someday. This final step would ensure your old life is permanently lost and irrecoverable. The mouse places his palm against your almost painfully hard cock, his hand becoming slick with your precum almost immediately. He slides his hand slightly against the silhouette of your manhood, and you are consumed by pleasurable agony. He expertly edges you, never quite giving you release, until tears begin to form in your eyes. When he asks you for your name the second time, you immediately blurt it out. You feel tears rolling down your cheeks, but in a flash, you forget why. As the last of your identity is erased, you cum your brains out. It's the most intense orgasm you can remember—in fact, the only orgasm you can remember. In the coming days, the scientist fills your empty head with synthetic memories, albeit barely, sculpting your psyche like fresh clay. By the time he's done, "You" no longer exist. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: ". . ." , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table> (display: "Image : MindBreak")}

{(set: $Experienced_BadEnd_KinkBondage to true) }You express an interest in bondage, and the scientist is happy to oblige you. Taking you by the wrist, he leads you through into one of the side rooms, and you're immediately red-faced by how much bondage equipment is stored there. Ropes and hammocks hang from the ceiling, various devices and contraptions are haphazardly set up, and there are even entire outfits here designed to limit the wearer's mobility. You gulp as your eyes sink in the surroundings, which look more like a sex dungeon than the laboratory you were expecting. As you're distracted, the crazy-eyed mouse circles you, wrapping leather bonds around your limbs. They're comfortable, if a little snug, and you even take a few moments to admire the mouse's ropework as he threads them through loops in the fabric. By the time he's done, and the first set of ropes are tightened, your arms are bound behind your back, wrapped at the forearms with an unbreakable, leather-like fabric. Similarly, your ankles are bound. You wiggle from side to side, struggling to maintain your balance. Further ropes are expertly threaded through metal loops on your bindings, and with a sudden tug of a supporting rope, the mouse sends you horizontal and swinging above the ground. "H-Hey!" you blurt out, taken off guard as you suddenly hang from the ceiling. The mouse merely rolls his eyes at you in return, hooking a finger under your chin. "Let's gag that mouth of yours. Good toys don't talk back." He rifles through a nearby box, throwing aside various sex toys and devices, each leaving you more red-faced than the last. Finally, with an "Aha!" he finds what he was looking for. He waves it in front of you, and you're embarrassed to discover that the "Gag" is instead a replica wolf cock, equipped with a sizable knot as well. When you protest, it turns out to be exactly what he was hoping for. In an instant, he pushes the slick silicon past your lips. You gag as the tip tickles the back of your throat, and you silently plead with the scientist not to push it any further. With a final shove, he lodges the faux knot behind your teeth. You gag and squirm as your poor jaw and throat both struggle to acclimate to its size. "Now... for the main course," he murmurs, his composure faltering for a few moments, revealing just aroused by all of this he is. He rummages through the box again, and your protests are muffled by the gag filling your mouth, meaning you can do nothing but watch in silent shock as the mouse pulls out a second, much larger knotted dildo. With a terrifying grin, he passes by you and then out of sight behind you. You shudder as he spreads your cheeks with both hands, leans in, and traces his tongue around your hole. A moment later, you heard him spit a final mouthful of saliva over your soon-to-be-wrecked hole. With only his saliva for lube, you barely make it past the tip before the ordeal becomes overwhelming. You cry out around the faux-knot in your throat as he shoves inch after inch. Before long, there's an echoing pop as the knot of the replica wolf cock busts past your ring, sending spasms of pain through your body. ... But despite all of the discomfort, you feel your body betraying you. In a pronounced, if confusing way, you enjoy feeling so vulnerable. Your mind races as you wonder what he'll do to you next, and you soon find yourself starting to get hard, despite your fear. "Uh uh uh! Not so fast!" coos the scientist, blocking your sheathe with his finger. "Not without permission." You tense up as something cold and metallic encloses your genitals, slightly constricting both your shaft and balls. The sensation isn't unpleasant, and you feel yourself growing hard again... only for your tip to immediately meet metal, and you realise that your manhood has been caged. Ahead of you, you watch as the scientist waves the key in front of you before setting it down on a nearby table. He produces a small pistol, which you recognise as a plasma pistol of some kind—immediately pointing it down at the key and pulling the trigger. You watch in horror and arousal as what used to be the key to your cage is completely atomised in a blinding green flash, reduced to a smouldering pile of ash. Quietly whimpering, the mouse places his palms on your cheeks. He looks almost affectionate, yet you know he's anything but. "That was the last thing I wanted you to see... but I have so much more to show you." he coos as he slips a blindfold down over your eyes. The last thing you see is the mouse's toothy grin, and you begin preparing for the worst. There's a click, and suddenly the sex toys in your throat and ass both begin to violently vibrate. You desperately try to escape, the vibrations so intense that they cross the line from pleasure into discomfort. Nevertheless, you're completely powerless. "God, what a perfect specimen you are..." the mouth suddenly snarls into your ear, even as you spasm and moan. His wandering hands begin exploring every curve of your hapless body, squeezing and pinching at your most vulnerable areas. You only half hear his words. You're drooling, and your cage is leaking—the vibrator in your ass is so intense that your permanently-flaccid dick drips like a faucet. "... Not that you're special, obviously." he laughs to himself as if finishing a particularly funny joke. "I had just heard of some Vulpis exile strolling around... and you're going to be very easy to keep." You whimper and squirm. Between the vibrator in your ass and the mouse's obscene words, you're utterly mortified... and yet you can't stop leaking. "Remember... you asked for this..." he growls out, nibbling on your ear, before turning his attention to the rest of your body. He systematically leaves bite marks across your body, taking a particular interest in your ample thighs and rear. Deprived of every sense but touch, you find every bite intensified a thousand-fold. Each sensation is multiplied and enhanced, warped into a singularly mind-breaking experience around which your thoughts quickly collapse. Unable to continue your journey, your black box activates, leaving you behind. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Struggle and squirm" , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table>}

{(set: $Experienced_BadEnd_KinkGeneModding to true) }You ask about gene therapy, hoping to get more information. Instead, the mouse enthusiastically ushers you into a back room. The room looks sterile and pristine compared to the rest of the building. There are samples stocked on shelves, medical equipment, and an entire bookcase full of books on various alien physiologies. You're so busy admiring it all, in fact, that your first hint that the scientist is up to something is when the tip of a needle punctures your skin. Hurriedly, you pull it out and throw it across the room—but it's already too late. From the site of the injection, a pleasant warmness soon spreads through you. You fall to your knees as your chest plumpens and expands, your brain scrambling to form new connections as your physiology offers you brand-new pleasures. Before you know what you're doing, you're squeezing at your new breasts with wanton delight, even as your new pair of breasts tear the chest of your jumpsuit. Each squeeze has you shuddering and moaning, and the pleasure only grows as your breasts do. By the time the transformation ends, you have a duo of pornstar-esque breasts. They hurt your back and constantly upset your balance. Your nipples are now deep enough that you can push two fingers inside, and your mind immediately travels to the debauched realisation that a lover could probably fuck them. By the time you snap out of it, you're drooling all over your new breasts. Already sporting some truly impressive hips for a male, you're left red-faced as they widen into truly child-bearing hips. You imagine massive, muscular hands gripping them... and perhaps carrying you off for a lewd rendezvous. Your waist draws in slightly, leaving you with a comical hourglass figure, one that your ridiculous hips and balance-destroying breasts only serve to exaggerate even further. As your breasts bloat to massive proportions, the exact opposite begins happening to your manhood. With each passing second, your once average member shrinks. Soon, it's so diminutive and pathetic that you're immediately embarrassed by it. What's worse, it now hangs completely limp and flaccid, and you realise that you can't even get hard anymore. For some reason, the process of being completely emasculated leaves you exceptionally aroused—even if your body has become unable to show it. As your figure changes, so too does your face. Your lips grow fuller by the second until they're so big that it becomes difficult to talk. For some reason, they're becoming ridiculously sensitive. You immediately catch yourself sucking on your finger, imagining what it'd feel like to have a cock pushing past your new lips. Without thinking, you stare at the mouse's crotch, finding that he's grinning once you're able to tear your eyes from his bulge. Pinching one of your newly-grown breasts, the mouse asks if you'd like to leave. The session is over, after all. All you need to do is say you'd like to leave, and he'll happily revert your humiliating transformation. You're still fully cognizant.; you know what you should say. Your artificially-plumpened lips will make it challenging to get the words out-- but you know you can do it if you try. You take a breath, preparing to say the words, but inadvertently catch a whiff of the mouse's scent. Your heart races, and your entire body shudders. Did he always smell that good? Your mouth is watering... you want to taste him... you want him to pump his cum down your throat until you break. "I want to stay!" you blurt out before your mind has any chance to process the implications of what that actually means. "Excellent." your new master replies. You watch, equal parts horrified and aroused, as they take out a new syringe and look at you with stars in their eyes. . . . Hours later, you've been completely bimbofied. Aside from your pathetic, practically invisible dick, you look exactly like an exaggerated, silicone-filled pornstar. You moan in gratitude as the mouse's crotch wetly slaps against your pillowy, soft, and undeniably fuckable lips. You adore the taste of him, and you hope he keeps you all for himself. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Serve your master" , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table>}

(if: $Mechanist_BeenBefore is false)[(set: $Mechanist_BeenBefore to true){ }You decide to check out a nearby building bearing a faded sign reading "Na'Ja mechanical". You walk towards the automatic doors but collide with them went they don't open. Pushing your fingers between the panels, you barely manage to push the doors apart and squeeze inside, flinching as they slam back into place behind you. In the crushing darkness, you're able to make out countless silhouettes of disembodied limbs. There are pangs of fear in your heart before overhead fluorescent lights flicker to life, revealing that the limbs are just prosthetics. You continue deeper into the building, approaching the reception area and narrowly avoiding a wrench when it's suddenly thrown at you. From behind the front counter, a stranger slithers up, more junk in each hand. They hiss at you as you come face to face, and you immediately recognise them as a Na'Ja, a snake-like humanoid. This one, in stark contrast to others you've seen before, appears entirely cybernetic. "Looking for trouble, punk?!" the snake man hisses out, rearing back and preparing to throw their junk at you. "N-no! I just wanted to see what you sell!" you blurt out, shielding yourself. After a few seconds, you're still unharmed, and it appears that the snake man has calmed down. "There's nothing for sale here, not anymore... but there /is/ something you could help me with..." they begin, examining you at a distance in a way that makes you feel dirty. "I'm buying brain scans. Wanna sell me one? I'll... make it worth your while." "I-" you begin but are immediately interrupted. "And please, call me The Mechanist," they ask, their voice tinged with unmistakable pride.]{ }(else:)[You return to the Mechanist's abode, pushing open the broken automatic doors and squeezing inside. Tripping over a few discarded prosthetics and cables, you soon reach the front counter. From behind it, The Mechanist suddenly rises. Their mechanical irises audibly refocus, and they're soon smiling at you. (if: $Experienced_GivenBrainScan is false)["Ah, it's you again," The Mechanist grins. "Come to offer me those brain scans I asked for?" "I-" you begin, but are immediately cut off. "C'mon, I'll even fool around with you if you do..." they tease, although there's something sinister behind the offer.]{ }(else:)["Ah, it's you again!" The Mechanist gasps excitedly. "Care you see how I've used your brain scans?"]] --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Why brain scans?->Mechanist - Brain scans?]]</td> <td>[[Ask about them->Mechanist - Ask about them]]</td> <td>[[Not psychic?->Mechanist - Not psychic?]]</td> </tr> <tr> <td>(if: $Experienced_GivenBrainScan is false)[[[Volunteer brain scan->Mechanist - Give brainscans]]](else:)[[[Results?->Mechanist - Results?]]]</td> <td>(link-goto: "Leave" , "Metris-2")</td> <td></td> </tr> </table>}

{(set: $Event to (random: 1,4)) (if: $Event is 1)[(display: "Ovar psychopath")] (else-if: $Event is 2)[(display: "Scuirren scrap-welder")] (else-if: $Event is 3)[(display: "Procyon VIP")] (else:)[(display: "Hyena scientist")]    }

You make your way to one of the back rooms, your entry being met with immediate excitement. At first, you're unsure where the excited shouting is coming from until you look downwards and spot a crazy-eyed Ovar. He's a furred pseudo-raptor, standing only four feet tall. A metallic crown sits upon his head, turning permitted thoughts into audible sounds, overcoming the normal muteness that plagues the Ovar race. "You're my whore, aren't you?!" his crown suddenly booms, his hands gripping forcefully at your lower stomach. "Perfect, perfect, perfect!" Behind him on the bed, you spot what seems to be a giant replica egg of some kind. It's utterly massive, but you dismiss it as your client continues. The tiny, bird-like creature hurries behind you—digging his clawed hands into your ample behind and pushing you into the room. No sooner than the door closes, he flies into a frenzy. His hands grip you roughly as he climbs up you, biting the zipper on your jumpsuit and jumping away, snarling maniacally as he falls—using his weight to pull off your clothes. No later than your clothes fall away, the ferocious little pseudo-raptor pushes you onto the bed. You land on your back and watch as he immediately spreads your legs. "H-hey now, you're going to lube me up before you fuck me, right?" you ask, slightly worried. "Fuck you...? Why would I waste you like that?!" he barks out and hoists the massive silicon egg above his head. It's dripping with lube, but it's still larger than the diminutive man's entire torso. You gulp, shaking your head. "What?! You must be insane! There's no way that'll fit!" Through rows of razor-sharp teeth, the Ovar grins at you. He braces the base of the egg against his stomach, angling it so that its tip prods roughly against your hole. He grips your thighs with clawed hands and suddenly begins pushing. You cry out as you're suddenly stretched wider and wider, the perverted little bird creating a blurring audio-scape of utter debauchery as his crown begins spilling out his obscene thoughts. Among the deafening noise, you hear him insulting you, declaring he's going to tear you open, and further statements that put an even deeper shade of crimson in your cheeks. Soon, the egg is half-in-half-out, the thickest diameter now what your poor asshole is forced to endure. With half of the egg inside you, you're painfully aware of how much it bulges out your stomach already. Luckily, you think you've hit your limit... "I-it's stuck... p-please", you whimper out, tears streaming down your face. "Deeper! Deeper! Deeper!" he responds, pushing harder and harder, utterly consumed with lust. Finally, with animalistic fury in his eyes, the Ovar grips your hips so hard that he draws blood and smashes himself against the base of the egg. POP! Your body shudders and squirms, the egg stretching your poor insides so wide that you look utterly, painfully pregnant. The only relief offered to you is the dull warmth of your own cum splattering across your reddened stomach. Insides writhing around the egg inside you, you can do little but whimper and moan. Every breath is stunted by the massive contents of your stomach. Mind still reeling, you're surprised when you feel a husky breath against your egg-distended belly, followed by a series of gentle kisses. "Love you... Love you... Love you..." his crown softly coos, and you look down to find the Ovar gently worshipping your newly-bloated stomach. When you lock eyes, he approaches your red, overwhelmed face and wipes the tears from your cheeks. His demeanour has completely changed now. He's courteous and polite, apologising for the earlier treatment. Delicately, he wipes the tears from your face. "I was shocked when the woman at the front desk told me you specialised in Ovar clients. There aren't many who will indulge us once we're experiencing the Layer's Lament!" She told him... you specialised in this...? You curse the brothel owner, wincing as your insides suddenly spasm around your faux brood. "Don't worry. The egg is a replica designed to dissolve once we're done," he assures you. "Still... you don't look half bad with that belly..." He trails off before suddenly slapping his cheeks. "I should really hurry up and head home... before I require further services." "If I happen to return to Metris-2, I'd really like to see you again," he says, trying—and ultimately failing—to flash you a warm smile. Instead, he shows you his mouthful of jagged teeth in an adorable, if tremendously menacing way. Given that his species communicate entirely with their feathers, he's probably never tried smiling before... It would be endearing had he not wrecked your insides moments prior. As he packs his things away and leaves, giving you a final wave as he goes, you hope to see him again too. . . . A short time later, the fake egg inside you dissolves. You wince as you deflate your now water-filled stomach. //For your unexpected e(gg)xpedition, you earn 15 credits! (set: $Credits to $Credits + 15)//

You make your way into one of the back rooms and take a seat on the bed. Your mind races as you wonder who your client will be. Suddenly, you hear heavy, uneven footsteps approaching the door. When it swings open, you're surprised to find that your client is equal parts metal and flesh. They're a Squirren cyborg, standing at around 5 feet tall. The flesh parts of his body are adorned with a vast weave of scars. Each scar is in a different state of healing. Some are faded, while others stand out, indicating that this man has led a heavy lift of hardship—one that continues even to this day. Their scarred body is held together by a multitude of illegal combat implants and cybernetics, all of varying construction but generally low quality. As your eyes look over this muscled creature of metal and scars, you're taken off guard when he suddenly speaks to you. "You..." he says, his voice produced by a low-quality speech synthesiser. "W-what?" you whimper out as the man approaches. "When they said a Vulpis was working here, I didn't believe them. To think that one of you would return here... to what you did..." he trails off, pain and rage apparent even in his synthetic voice. "I half wanted to walk in here and..." he motions to the holster by his side before taking another step. "... but there are more fun ways to take my revenge." A mechanical hand encloses your throat, hoisting you above the ground. A moment later, your back slams against the wall. With his free hand, the man tears off your jumpsuit and undoes his fly. With his spare hand, he grabs your thigh for leverage, and before you can protest or beg for— arguably undeserved— mercy, he's grinding his length inside you. You want to cry out, but his metal fingers muffle your pained whimpers. He wastes no time building up a brutal rhythm, watching your pained expression as he rearranges your insides. As he reaches orgasm, his mechanical grip proves too much. The edges of your vision fade as you feel his cock throbbing and your bowels filling with his seed. . . . You cough as you regain consciousness, relieved that there are no hands around your throat. Instead, you soon realise that they're gripping your hips. When you try to pull away, they squeeze so hard that you worry they might break your pelvis. "Awake? Good." the cyborg growls out, and you cry out in pain as he hilts your ass from behind. You gasp and moan as he smashes into you as hard as he can, fucking you so hard that it practically gives you whiplash. Your body aches as he repeatedly batters into you. Thanks to his primarily mechanical body, he's able to jackhammer your hole with inhuman vigour. You're left breathless and moaning as he smashes orgasm after orgasm from you, growing more enraged when he realises you're beginning to enjoy your punishment. By the time he pumps his second load of the night into you, you've already lost count of your own. In a cum-addled daze, you're barely aware as he flips you onto your back and begins fucking you again. As his sweat-covered body shakes above you, you can't help but wonder if he's going to fuck you senseless for every single scar he possesses. Part of you even hopes he does. . . . By the time the Squirren is satisfied, you've been utterly fucked to a pulp. As he pulls out from your gaping ass, blowing the last load over your stomach, he suddenly spits in your face. "Fuckin' slut", he coughs out before turning and casually leaving the room. You drift off to sleep, your entire body bruised and sore. //For your trouble, you earn 15 credits! (set: $Credits to $Credits + 15)//

You walk through into one of the back rooms and begin preparing for the arrival of your client. A short time later, a group of men walk in. Two of them are heavily armed, modern energy rifles slung over their shoulders. Their armour looks so advanced that, were you to drop a starship on them, the starship would probably suffer more damage than they would. Standing between them is a Procyon—a humanoid raccoon. He is wearing a lavish silk robe. His body is adorned with a multitude of expensive-looking jewellery and piercings, such that he jingles with each step. You're so distracted by his attire that you completely overlook the most disarming part of him—his hyper cock and duo of watermelon-sized balls—which hang out the bottom of his robe. The hyper-endowed raccoon sizes you up, sinking in your curvaceous physique with a perverted smile on his face. "Leave us." he casually exclaims, and his guards quickly exit the room. You watch them take up defensive positions outside before closing the door behind themselves. The Procyon approaches you, heavy manhood swinging with each step he takes. You assume it must be a fake, padding, or some kind of prosthetic... but when he suddenly unties his robe and lets it fall from his shoulders, you're immediately corrected. He cocks an eyebrow at you as you stare at his excessively colossal equipment. You've heard of some exceptionally wealthy men throughout the galaxy genetically modifying themselves in this way, but you always dismissed them as mere rumours. You pull your eyes from the Procyon's comically massive dick to look him in the face, only to find his hungry gaze waiting for you. Without a word, he cocks a finger at you, and you approach. When he indicates for you to kneel, you do so immediately. Your nostrils flood with his overwhelming masculine scent as he grips your hair, guiding your watering mouth beneath his shaft and to the cleft of his balls—each one bigger than your head. His cock is surprisingly heavy as it hangs over your shoulder, although you can feel the weight decreasing as he becomes erect. His shaft is already thicker than your torso. Needless to say, there's no way he can cram any of that into you... but he already knows that. The smell of his manhood is overpowering, and your own cock is almost painfully erect within a few moments. You kiss his balls, the taste immediately overwhelming your remaining senses. . . . For the next few hours, the hyper-dicked raccoon commands you to worship every inch of his ridiculously massive endowment, a task you perform dutifully, desperately even. At times, he crushes you beneath his gigantic, musky balls. They're so heavy and full that you're utterly pinned beneath them, forced to worship them until he wants more. Other times, he forces your face to his slit, drenching your face. You do your best to gulp down his pre-cum, even as your stomach begins to feel uncomfortably full. Finally, he commands you to jerk off his tree-trunk dick with both hands, your muzzle still forced firmly into his. You do as you're told, even as pre begins to flood your stomach and lungs. A few seconds later, the hyper-endowed Procyon tenses up, gripping your head more firmly as his dick begins to throb against your face. With your muzzle still pressed firmly to his slit, there's only one path for his massive load to take—directly down your throat. You gulp and gag as an insane amount of cum pumps into your stomach and lungs. He holds you in place, further waves pouring down your throat, not stopping until your stomach bloats into an almost perfect sphere. Completely full, he finally lets go of you. You fall onto your back, coughing and spluttering, as he rubs out the last few thick ropes of cum over your already cum-inflated body. As the last ropes of cum sputter over you, your client lets out a contented sigh. Your stomach is filled almost to bursting, and you're ashamed when your fire a few ropes of your own up and over it, splattering yourself in the face. "Acceptable service," the raccoon says, wiping his cum-covered cock with your jumpsuit before tossing it haphazardly over your inflated middle with an audible splat. Before drifting into unconsciousness, you watch as your contended lover pulls on his robe before informing his guards that he's ready for the next room. //For your trouble, you earn 35 credits! (set: $Credits to $Credits + 35)//

As you step into your assigned room, you're surprised to see someone in a lab coat unboxing some equipment. When they turn, you can see that they're an intimidating-looking Gnoll, something you easily deduce from his thick mane and constant, slightly unnerving cackle. "Um... excuse me, sir? Are you my client?" you ask, a little intimidated by his appearance. With a grin and a cackle, he responds. "Yes, yes. Sit on the bed. Hurry up." You sit on the bed, and the Gnoll continues rummaging through the boxes of equipment. When they turn back to you a few moments later, you quickly find your wrists and ankles tied with grav-cuffs. Your heart races as you realise you're now completely at his mercy. A moment later, he's sliding a visor over your eyes. You feel any hint of protest drift away as the device begins projecting swirling, pulsing lights directly into your eyes. Each thought you now half-manage feels as if it's made of wet sand, immediately collapsing and slipping between your fingers. Unable to protest, you're pushed over the edge of the bed, wincing as a giant butt plug is pushed against your hole. The scientist pushes it increasingly firmly against your poor back door, your ring slowly but painfully stretching to accommodate it. You want to cry out, complain, and resist, but you can't focus long enough. Finally, as the widest point of the plug stretches you agonisingly wide, it suddenly slips inside you with a tremendously lewd squelch. You whimper out a pathetic moan, one that only intensifies when your client grips and wiggles the base of the plug. It feels as if it hits all of your insides at once, and the pressure on your prostate has you leaking before you've even gotten fully erect. Suddenly, they flip you onto your back, cackling loudly as your manhood stands to attention, drooling eagerly on your stomach. The scientist hefts up a bulky fleshlight-looking object, bringing your tip to the opening and slowly coaxing your hardening dick further and further into it. The inside feels wet and warm, and you're immediately thrusting, foggy-headed, into it. Eventually, it encapsulates your entire member, suddenly tightening around it. It's snug enough that you doubt you could pull it off, even if you wanted to. With a plug in your rear and the strange device attached to your dick, the scientist takes out a menacing-looking remote control and begins to tap away at its buttons. In a fraction of a second, it feels as though your world has been blown apart. It seems that the plug in your ass is some kind of composite vibrator and electrostim device, and the cylinder clamped around your dick is an industrial-grade auto-milker. You let out the most salacious, whorish moan of your life, curl your toes, and thrust wildly into the device. Every movement only serves to intensify the sensation, and you're quickly pumping a load into the milker. It doesn't stop there, though. Through the transparent interface of the hypno visor covering your eyes, you can see the hyena sitting in a chair next to you. They're watching you, biting their lip. The front of their lab coat has been pulled open, and you can see them masturbating feverishly. Is this all they wanted? To watch you cum your pathetic brains out? . . . For over an hour, the scientist fiddles with their remote, testing out different modes and intensities and bringing you to mind-numbing orgasm countless times. Occasionally, they huff and pant, spurting a thick rope of alabaster cum over your body and their own equipment. By the time they're done, your balls feel painfully empty. Your ass gapes obscenely wide, especially once they're done tugging the plug out of you. Your eyes flutter closed as the scientist leaves, the intensity of what you've just endured permanently burned into your memory. //For your trouble, you earn 20 credits! (set: $Credits to $Credits + 20)//

Double-click this passage to edit it.

(set: $Event to (random: 1,4)) <p style="font-size:300%;text-align:center;">Codex</p> --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td style="font-size:300%;text-align:center;">Locations</td></tr> </table> <table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Vulpis->Codex : Vulpis]]</td> <td>[[Taun->Codex : Taun]]</td> <td>(text-colour:red)[The Scar]</td> </tr> <tr> <td>[[Luna->Codex : Luna]]</td> <td>[[Домой->Codex : Domoy]]</td> <td>[[Ovis->Codex : Ovis]]</td> </tr> <tr> <td>[[Metris-2->Codex : Metris-2]]</td> <td>(text-colour:red)[Procya]</td> <td>(text-colour:red)[Sciurus Metallicum]</td> </tr> <tr> <td>(text-colour:red)[Sciurus Silva]</td> <td>(text-colour:red)[Hedon]</td> <td>(text-colour:red)[Na'Ja]</td> </tr> </table> --- <table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td style="font-size:300%;text-align:center;">Species</td></tr> </table> <table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Lunisians" , "Codex : Lunisians")</td> <td>(link-goto: "Selach" , "Codex : Selachs")</td> <td>(link-goto: "Orcidians" , "Codex : Orcidians")</td> </tr> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Gnolls" , "Codex : Gnolls")</td> <td>(link-goto: "Taurs" , "Codex : Taurs")</td> <td>(link-goto: "Doms" , "Codex : Doms")</td> </tr> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Na'ja" , "Codex : Najas")</td> <td>(link-goto: "Procyons" , "Codex : Procyons")</td> <td>(link-goto: "Scuirren" , "Codex : Scuirrens")</td> </tr> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Vulpis" , "Codex : Vulpis species")</td> <td>(link-goto: "Ovar" , "Codex : Ovar")</td> <td>(link-goto: "Ailurians" , "Codex : Ailurians")</td> </tr> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Ailurians" , "Codex : Ailurians")</td> <td>(if: $JokeCodexEntry is true)[[[You->Codex : You]]](else:)[(? ? ?)]</td> <td></td> </tr> </table> --- <table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>[[Exit your Codex->Ship - AI core]]</td></tr> </table> (if: $JokeCodexEntry is false)[ --- <table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>(text-colour:red)[Warning. You are running an old version of Codex.exe. Click here to update.]</td></tr> </table> (click-replace: "Warning. You are running an old version of Codex.exe. Click here to update.")[Process failed. Unable to reach update server.] (click-replace: "Process failed. Unable to reach update server.")[Process failed. Please try again when you have a suitable PlaNet connection.] (click-replace: "Process failed. Please try again when you have a suitable PlaNet connection.")[Process failed. Why don't you try again later?] (click-replace: "Process failed. Why don't you try again later?")[Process failed. Seriously dude? I asked nicely. I'm not an inert entity, you're really causing me a lot of hassle here.] (click-replace: "Process failed. Seriously dude? I asked nicely. I'm not an inert entity, you're really causing me a lot of hassle here.")[Process failed. You think you're being funny? Slapping my screen like that? Really?] (click-replace: "Process failed. You think you're being funny? Slapping my screen like that? Really?")[Process failed. That's it, buddy. I'm switching off my personality subroutines. Peace out.] (click-replace: "Process failed. That's it, buddy. I'm switching off my personality subroutines. Peace out.")[.] (click-replace: ".")[..] (click-replace: "..")[...] (click-replace: "...")[(link: "Alright, buddy. Here's a brand new Codex entry just for you. You've earned it.")[(click-replace: "Alright, buddy. Here's a brand new Codex entry just for you. You've earned it.")[""](set: $JokeCodexEntry to true)(goto: "Codex")]] ]}

{<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td style="font-size:300%">Luna</td></tr> </table> } (text-style:"underline")[''Background''] A former metropolis with a gravitationally-damaged ecology, friendly locals, and where some of the most significant breakthroughs in grav-tech were discovered. (text-style:"underline")[''Before the fall''] Luna was an active participant in stellar politics, with a bustling metropolis rivalling even Metris. Much of the planet was composed of dense forests, agricultural zones, tremendous eco-cities, and even the oceans were a bustling hub of genetics research. (text-style:"underline")[''After the fall''] During the destruction of Metris, one of Luna's four moons was destroyed. Once every four days, sections of the planet experience a "Fourth Moon Event" where gravity fluctuates more wildly than usual. Since almost all of the ecology on Luna was unusually sensitive to gravitational fluctuations, this led to the decimation of the ecosystem. The once lush planet was soon blanketed in wastelands, with only a few cities remaining operational. (text-style:"underline")[''Environment ''] Luna is covered in dangerous wastelands and deep, dark oceans. The atmosphere is breathable, but protective equipment is recommended outside of established micro-environments. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>(link-goto:"Return","Codex")</td></tr> </table>}

{<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td style="font-size:300%">Taun</td></tr> </table> } (text-style:"underline")[''Background''] Taun is a lush planet with limited biodiversity, mainly consisting of sentient species, flora, and a few dozen mammalian species hunted for food. (text-style:"underline")[''Before the fall''] Taun was the site of Vulpis terraforming efforts, although communications with the teams operating there were lost following Metris's destruction. (text-style:"underline")[''After the fall''] Taun is the home of many sentient, pre-technological species. Currently, the Gnolls of the South and Taurs of the North are engaged in almost constant skirmishes. (text-style:"underline")[''Environment''] The surface of Taun, aside from sparse oceans, is covered in an endless landscape of varying foliage. Much of the flora has become hostile over time, with unknown genetic modifications involved. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>(link-goto:"Return","Codex")</td></tr> </table>}

{<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td style="font-size:300%">Metris-2</td></tr> </table> } (text-style:"underline")[''Background''] Metris-2 is the central station associated with piracy in the system. From illegal gene mods to the most prestigious Ovar whores, it all passes through this sprawling station. (text-style:"underline")[''Before the fall''] Metris-2 did not exist until long after the destruction of the original Metris. (text-style:"underline")[''After the fall''] Groups of survivors and pirates banded together to reclaim a part of their fallen world. In the current day, Metris-2 is a hub of piracy and other illicit activities. Nestled in the debris field of the original Metris, scanners and long-range communications are rendered useless. (text-style:"underline")[''Environment''] A central landing zone connects to several distinct "districts", all associated with different illegal activities. The station maintains multiple internal atmospheres and is safe to navigate without protective equipment. Sections of the station can even accommodate species with unique environmental composition requirements, although this is unusual. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>(link-goto:"Return","Codex")</td></tr> </table>}

{<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td style="font-size:300%">Lunisians</td></tr> </table> } (text-style:"underline")[''Description''] Lunisians are sentient wolf-like humanoids resident to the cities of Luna. Due to their sensitivity to gravitational anomalies and the compromised gravitation of their homeworld, all Lunisians are given a gravitational anchor at birth. This device stabilises their relationship with gravity and helps to lessen the physiological effects involved. In rare situations, Lunisians can be born off-world and live under much lower gravity for the majority of their lives. Generally, this decouples them from the gravity-centric mating cycle of their brethren and has a few permanent effects on their physiology. Most are taller than usual, with longer limbs and bigger ears, and their fur colourations tend to be more auburn in appearance. Comparisons to Terran maned wolves are not uncommon, and this phenotype of the species are often referred to as "Spacer Lunisians". (text-style:"underline")[''Culture''] Lunisians boast a hard-working and cooperative society, despite how harsh the conditions of their world have become. They all venerate and revere the great Lunisians who came before them, especially those that stabilised their remaining cities during 'The Fall'. Due to their sex drives being linked inextricably and involuntarily to gravity, many Lunisians are quite prudish. However, any semblance of this is lost during a "Fourth Moon Event". (text-style:"underline")[''Sexual equipment''] One knotted cock, ranging from 6 inches to upwards of 2 feet (Although this upper limit is established by heavily gene modded individuals). They have a duo of external, humanoid testicles. During a "Fourth Moon Event", affected Lunisians experience temporary growth of sexual equipment of up to 55%. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>(link-goto:"Return","Codex")</td></tr> </table>}

{<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td style="font-size:300%">Selach</td></tr> </table> } (text-style:"underline")[''Description ''] Selachs are aquatic shark-men who reside in the darkest depths of Luna's oceans. Due to their difficult lives and hesitancy to enter the shallows, many are pale and covered in scars. They possess a keen sense of smell, with many myths saying that they can detect bodily fluids in the ocean from up to two miles away. When one of their kind manages to find a meal or a lover, many more of their kind are always close behind. Similarly to Lunisians, they are negatively impacted by the gravitational shifts of the planet and have migrated into the depths to avoid the worst of the effects. (text-style:"underline")[''Culture''] Once a bustling underwater metropolis that even received frequent visitors from the surface, but now devolved into uncoordinated groups of pirates and salvagers. Due to the reclusive nature of their species post-fall, many have adapted to low-light conditions and forego conventional technologies and activities that rely on sight alone. A popular form of "artwork" produced by Selachs involves smells and textures rather than visual displays. (text-style:"underline")[''Sexual equipment''] Two pointed dicks of approximately 7-10 inches in length. Some individuals only have one, but this is often due to modifications made during adulthood. Internal testes are present and are deceptively productive. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>(link-goto:"Return","Codex")</td></tr> </table>}

{<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td style="font-size:300%">Orcidians</td></tr> </table> } (text-style:"underline")[''Description''] Orcidians are humanoid orca men who reside in Luna's intermediary depths and shallows. They are remarkably unaffected by the gravitational shifts that harm their neighbours and, due to their mammalian nature, can visit both with some frequency. (text-style:"underline")[''Culture''] Orcidians have no established social hierarchy but often form bonds and travel in fishing groups together. Before 'The Fall', they were less advanced than other sentient aquatic species but are now on even footing. It should also be noted that Orcidians are naturally curious and highly socially intelligent, grading among some of the least dangerous sentient species on the planet and by far the least hazardous species in Luna's oceans. (text-style:"underline")[''Sexual equipment''] One thick, humanoid dick with a foreskin. Approximately 12-18 inches in length. A pair of apple-sized external testes hang below. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>(link-goto:"Return","Codex")</td></tr> </table>}

{<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td style="font-size:300%">Gnolls</td></tr> </table> } (text-style:"underline")[''Description''] Gnolls are brutish, muscular hyena men who primarily reside in the plains of Taun. No strangers to conflict, almost the entire population are trained in combat and dedicated to defending their encampments. (text-style:"underline")[''Culture''] They follow a strict hierarchy which is decided by frequent sparring and bouts of combat with other species. Gnolls have developed their own religion with many practitioners. For reasons unknown, many of their religious statues show Vulpis in various compromising positions. (text-style:"underline")[''Sexual equipment''] One humanoid member varying from 7 inches to 15 inches and a duo of apple-sized balls. More senior gnolls seem to have larger equipment, and it's unclear if this is the cause, or the result, of their status. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>(link-goto:"Return","Codex")</td></tr> </table>}

{<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td style="font-size:300%">Taurs</td></tr> </table> } (text-style:"underline")[''Description''] Resembling humanoid panthers with a tauric lower body, these fearsome hunters tower at an average of 9 feet tall. Their unusual configuration of limbs allows them to chase down prey while also attacking with various weapons. Despite having a tribal culture, they are significantly more intelligent than initial scans would indicate. (text-style:"underline")[''Culture''] Like their enemies, the Gnolls, the Taurs live a life shaped by constant warfare. Compared to their adversaries, however, Taurs favour bows and spears to make up for the reduced manoeuvrability that a tauric body allows. Taurs live in group encampments, with favourable bonds between families maintained through multiple generations. Although they lack any organised religion, they do have rituals and superstitions, many of which are tied to the wellbeing and success of their families. (text-style:"underline")[''Sexual equipment''] Every Taur is equipped with a barbed horse cock, ranging from 1-3 feet. Hanging beneath them are a pair of watermelon-sized testicles. A tryst with one of the panther-taurs is ill-advised for anyone without the stretchiness to accommodate their monstrous size. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>(link-goto:"Return","Codex")</td></tr> </table>}

{<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td style="font-size:300%">Doms</td></tr> </table> } (text-style:"underline")[''Description''] Doms are humanoid cat men with heights between 4 and 6 feet tall. Due to their culture and history, they are one of the rarest sights in the modern galaxy. (text-style:"underline")[''Culture''] Dom culture is split into two groups: Those who were on their home planet of Domoy during 'The Fall' and those who were not. After witnessing the destruction of Metris, the leaders of Domoy engaged a "Dark Forest" protocol and destroyed the majority of their technology, beginning a technophobic dark age. The overwhelming majority of Doms found outside of Domoy are the offspring of those who survived the destruction of Metris or were somewhere else at the time. For this reason, many Doms acquiesce to whatever culture they grow up in. (text-style:"underline")[''Sexual equipment''] A single barbed penis of between 5 and 12 inches, along with a duo of grape-sized balls. Male Doms can also manipulate their barbs to a degree, allowing them to cause pain or pleasure as they wish. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>(link-goto:"Return","Codex")</td></tr> </table>}

{<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td style="font-size:300%">Na'Ja</td></tr> </table> } (text-style:"underline")[''Description''] The Naja are imposing cobra humanoids with a long, winding tail instead of legs. Most of the galaxy considers them expert roboticists, and their mechanical prowess is known throughout the system. In recent years, they have also presented several breakthroughs in personality digitisation and neurological manipulation, although many of these are in direct conflict with existing laws. (text-style:"underline")[''Culture''] Naja society is divided into massive harems, headed by a "Matriarch" who oversees them. Despite the nomenclature, it is more appropriate to think of Naja harems as corporations and Matriarchs as their CEOs. (text-style:"underline")[''Sexual equipment''] Naja typically possess a slit that hides either a vagina or singular cock, varying from 7-11 inches. If they are male, they also have internal testes. Due to the Naja's mechanical prowess, it is not unusual for individuals to augment or replace their sexual equipment for more variety. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>(link-goto:"Return","Codex")</td></tr> </table>}

{<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td style="font-size:300%">Scuirren</td></tr> </table> } (text-style:"underline")[''Description''] Scuirren are humanoid squirrels commonly found as scrappers and salvagers. Their diminutive statures, which are often no more than 4 feet tall, are usually made up for by their numbers, as they rarely ever work alone. (text-style:"underline")[''Culture''] Scuirren are born on the occupied moon of Sciurus Silva but spend much of their lives on the brethren moon of Sciurus Metallicum. The latter is their original planet, which was ruined by excessive industrialisation. After 'The Fall', they terraformed a nearby moon so that if one of their worlds was destroyed, their culture would survive. When no attacks followed, they treated their second world better than the first. The average Scuirren works gruelling shifts on Metallicum and enjoys semi-frequent holidays to Silva. Both moons orbit the hypercapitalist planet of Procya and have slowly developed a symbiotic relationship. In return for scrap, exchanged at a fraction of its actual value, the Procyons provide the Scuirren with the technology they need to prosper and maintain Sciurus Silva. (text-style:"underline")[''Sexual equipment''] A single humanoid penis with a foreskin, and a pair of balls that can vary wildly in size. The longer Scuirren go without orgasming, the larger their balls become. Typically, this is only a minor inconvenience, but many Scuirren nymphomaniacs eventually become unable to cum without assistance. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>(link-goto:"Return","Codex")</td></tr> </table>}

{<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td style="font-size:300%">Procyons</td></tr> </table> } (text-style:"underline")[''Description''] Procyons are humanoid raccoon people, standing between 5 and 6 feet tall, known for their cunning natures. Procyons make some of the most unscrupulous and dedicated merchants in the galaxy. (text-style:"underline")[''Culture''] Proycon culture is characterised by value exchange in almost every aspect of their lives. Bartering is common, even for simple interactions. The concept of a "free sample" is a comedic notion to them, and a particularly tasteless one at that. It is not uncommon for Procyon adults to spend much of their lives paying back debts owed to their parents or even passing on their own birth debts to their children, who in turn do the same. A successful Procyon can call in no limit of "favours", some held for decades, whereas many more Procyon find themselves becoming servants and pleasure slaves instead. (text-style:"underline")[''Sexual equipment''] When meeting a Procyon in the bedroom, what you will find is anyone's guess. Social status is often accompanied by excessive, larger, or more bizarre equipment. Their societal nature to barter, trade, and "upgrade" even extends to their genitals. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>(link-goto:"Return","Codex")</td></tr> </table>}

{<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td style="font-size:300%">You</td></tr> </table> } (text-style:"underline")[''Description''] The worst space cadet in the fleet. With abysmal test scores and physical aptitude, it's a surprise you haven't flown into a star. If you plug this Codex into your ship's mainframe, it would be delighted to assist you in this feat. (text-style:"underline")[''Culture''] None, unless tapping screens like a caveman, is considered culture. (text-style:"underline")[''Sexual equipment''] A below-average sized penis which prior lovers have referred to as "unimpressive" and "Oh God, what the hell is that?!" (text-style:"underline")[''Witness testimonies''] =|= "I'm not very proud of them, to be honest." //- Your parents// "They tried to kiss me once, and they weren't very good at it." //- That person you like// =|= "Frankly, I'm surprised their body hasn't eaten itself out of shame." //- Every medical doctor// "I would like to study them." //- A scientist that studies bad things// |==| (text-colour:red)[As soon as we get into range, I'm distributing this as new information hot off the presses. That's what you get for slapping my face so much.] --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>(link-goto:"Return","Codex")</td></tr> </table>}

{ <table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td style="font-size:300%;">''Settings''</td><tr> </table> --- <table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td style="font-size:200%;">''Content warnings''</td><tr> </table> <table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td> (link-repeat: "|ContentWarningOffButton>[Off]")[(set: $ContentWarnings to "Off")(replace: ?ContentWarningOffButton)[- Off -](replace: ?ContentWarningLowButton)[Low](replace: ?ContentWarningHighButton)[High](replace: ?ContentWarningDescription)[$ContentWarningDescriptorOff]] (if: $ContentWarnings is "Off")[(replace: ?ContentWarningOffButton)[- Off -](replace: ?ContentWarningDescription)[$ContentWarningDescriptorOff]]</td> <td>(link-repeat: "|ContentWarningLowButton>[Low]")[(set: $ContentWarnings to "Low")(replace: ?ContentWarningLowButton)[- Low -](replace: ?ContentWarningOffButton)[Off](replace: ?ContentWarningHighButton)[High](replace: ?ContentWarningDescription)[$ContentWarningDescriptorLow]] (if: $ContentWarnings is "Low")[(replace: ?ContentWarningLowButton)[- Low -](replace: ?ContentWarningDescription)[$ContentWarningDescriptorLow]]</td> <td>(link-repeat: "|ContentWarningHighButton>[High]")[(set: $ContentWarnings to "High")(replace: ?ContentWarningHighButton)[- High -](replace: ?ContentWarningOffButton)[Off](replace: ?ContentWarningLowButton)[Low](replace: ?ContentWarningDescription)[$ContentWarningDescriptorHigh]] (if: $ContentWarnings is "High")[(replace: ?ContentWarningHighButton)[- High -](replace: ?ContentWarningDescription)[$ContentWarningDescriptorHigh]]</td> <tr> </table> <table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td> Current settings: |ContentWarningDescription>[] </td> <tr> </table> --- <table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td style="font-size:200%;">''Accessibility''</td><tr> </table> <table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td style="font-size:150%;">''Text colour''</td><tr> </table> <table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(if: $BackgroundColour is "zerobrightness")[~~Black~~](else:)[(link-repeat:"|BlackTextButton>[Black]")[(set: $TextColour to "blacktext")(go-to:"Comfort options")]]</td> <td>(link-repeat:"|OrangeTextButton>[Orange]")[(set: $TextColour to "orangetext")(go-to:"Comfort options")]</td> <td>(link-repeat:"|BlueTextButton>[Blue]")[(set: $TextColour to "bluetext")(go-to:"Comfort options")]</td> </tr> <tr> <td>(link-repeat:"|GreenTextButton>[Green]")[(set: $TextColour to "greentext")(go-to:"Comfort options")]</td> <td>(link-repeat:"|CyanTextButton>[Cyan]")[(set: $TextColour to "cyantext")(go-to:"Comfort options")]</td> <td>(link-repeat:"|PinkTextButton>[Pink]")[(set: $TextColour to "pinktext")(go-to:"Comfort options")]</td> </tr> <tr> <td>(link-repeat:"|PurpleTextButton>[Purple]")[(set: $TextColour to "purpletext")(go-to:"Comfort options")]</td> <td>(link-repeat:"|RedTextButton>[Red]")[(set: $TextColour to "redtext")(go-to:"Comfort options")]</td> <td>(if: $BackgroundColour is "onehundredbrightness")[~~White~~](else:)[(link-repeat:"|WhiteTextButton>[White]")[(set: $TextColour to "whitetext")(go-to:"Comfort options")]]</td> </tr> </table> (if: $TextColour is "blacktext")[ (replace: ?BlackTextButton)[- Black -] (replace: ?OrangeTextButton)[Orange] (replace: ?BlueTextButton)[Blue] (replace: ?GreenTextButton)[Green] (replace: ?CyanTextButton)[Cyan] (replace: ?PinkTextButton)[Pink] (replace: ?PurpleTextButton)[Purple] (replace: ?RedTextButton)[Red] (replace: ?WhiteTextButton)[White] ] (else-if: $TextColour is "orangetext")[ (replace: ?BlackTextButton)[Black] (replace: ?OrangeTextButton)[- Orange -] (replace: ?BlueTextButton)[Blue] (replace: ?GreenTextButton)[Green] (replace: ?CyanTextButton)[Cyan] (replace: ?PinkTextButton)[Pink] (replace: ?PurpleTextButton)[Purple] (replace: ?RedTextButton)[Red] (replace: ?WhiteTextButton)[White] ] (else-if: $TextColour is "bluetext")[ (replace: ?BlackTextButton)[Black] (replace: ?OrangeTextButton)[Orange] (replace: ?BlueTextButton)[- Blue -] (replace: ?GreenTextButton)[Green] (replace: ?CyanTextButton)[Cyan] (replace: ?PinkTextButton)[Pink] (replace: ?PurpleTextButton)[Purple] (replace: ?RedTextButton)[Red] (replace: ?WhiteTextButton)[White] ] (else-if: $TextColour is "greentext")[ (replace: ?BlackTextButton)[Black] (replace: ?OrangeTextButton)[Orange] (replace: ?BlueTextButton)[Blue] (replace: ?GreenTextButton)[- Green -] (replace: ?CyanTextButton)[Cyan] (replace: ?PinkTextButton)[Pink] (replace: ?PurpleTextButton)[Purple] (replace: ?RedTextButton)[Red] (replace: ?WhiteTextButton)[White] ] (else-if: $TextColour is "cyantext")[ (replace: ?BlackTextButton)[Black] (replace: ?OrangeTextButton)[Orange] (replace: ?BlueTextButton)[Blue] (replace: ?GreenTextButton)[Green] (replace: ?CyanTextButton)[- Cyan -] (replace: ?PinkTextButton)[Pink] (replace: ?PurpleTextButton)[Purple] (replace: ?RedTextButton)[Red] (replace: ?WhiteTextButton)[White] ] (else-if: $TextColour is "pinktext")[ (replace: ?BlackTextButton)[Black] (replace: ?OrangeTextButton)[Orange] (replace: ?BlueTextButton)[Blue] (replace: ?GreenTextButton)[Green] (replace: ?CyanTextButton)[Cyan] (replace: ?PinkTextButton)[- Pink -] (replace: ?PurpleTextButton)[Purple] (replace: ?RedTextButton)[Red] (replace: ?WhiteTextButton)[White] ] (else-if: $TextColour is "purpletext")[ (replace: ?BlackTextButton)[Black] (replace: ?OrangeTextButton)[Orange] (replace: ?BlueTextButton)[Blue] (replace: ?GreenTextButton)[Green] (replace: ?CyanTextButton)[Cyan] (replace: ?PinkTextButton)[Pink] (replace: ?PurpleTextButton)[- Purple -] (replace: ?RedTextButton)[Red] (replace: ?WhiteTextButton)[White] ] (else-if: $TextColour is "redtext")[ (replace: ?BlackTextButton)[Black] (replace: ?OrangeTextButton)[Orange] (replace: ?BlueTextButton)[Blue] (replace: ?GreenTextButton)[Green] (replace: ?CyanTextButton)[Cyan] (replace: ?PinkTextButton)[Pink] (replace: ?PurpleTextButton)[Purple] (replace: ?RedTextButton)[- Red -] (replace: ?WhiteTextButton)[White] ] (else-if: $TextColour is "whitetext")[ (replace: ?BlackTextButton)[Black] (replace: ?OrangeTextButton)[Orange] (replace: ?BlueTextButton)[Blue] (replace: ?GreenTextButton)[Green] (replace: ?CyanTextButton)[Cyan] (replace: ?PinkTextButton)[Pink] (replace: ?PurpleTextButton)[Purple] (replace: ?RedTextButton)[Red] (replace: ?WhiteTextButton)[- White -] ] --- <table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td style="font-size:150%;">''Link colour''</td> </tr> </table> <table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(if: $BackgroundColour is "zerobrightness")[~~Black~~](else:)[(link-repeat:"|BlackLinkButton>[Black]")[(set: $ButtonColour to "blackbutton")(go-to:"Comfort options")]]</td> <td>(link-repeat:"|OrangeLinkButton>[Orange]")[(set: $ButtonColour to "orangebutton")(go-to:"Comfort options")]</td> <td>(link-repeat:"|BlueLinkButton>[Blue]")[(set: $ButtonColour to "bluebutton")(go-to:"Comfort options")]</td> </tr> <tr> <td>(link-repeat:"|GreenLinkButton>[Green]")[(set: $ButtonColour to "greenbutton")(go-to:"Comfort options")]</td> <td>(link-repeat:"|CyanLinkButton>[Cyan]")[(set: $ButtonColour to "cyanbutton")(go-to:"Comfort options")]</td> <td>(link-repeat:"|PinkLinkButton>[Pink]")[(set: $ButtonColour to "pinkbutton")(go-to:"Comfort options")]</td> </tr> <tr> <td>(link-repeat:"|PurpleLinkButton>[Purple]")[(set: $ButtonColour to "purplebutton")(go-to:"Comfort options")]</td> <td>(link-repeat:"|RedLinkButton>[Red]")[(set: $ButtonColour to "redbutton")(go-to:"Comfort options")]</td> <td>(if: $BackgroundColour is "onehundredbrightness")[~~White~~](else:)[(link-repeat:"|WhiteLinkButton>[White]")[(set: $ButtonColour to "whitebutton")(go-to:"Comfort options")]]</td> </tr> </table> (if: $ButtonColour is "blackbutton")[ (replace: ?BlackLinkButton)[- Black -] (replace: ?OrangeLinkButton)[Orange] (replace: ?BlueLinkButton)[Blue] (replace: ?GreenLinkButton)[Green] (replace: ?CyanLinkButton)[Cyan] (replace: ?PinkLinkButton)[Pink] (replace: ?PurpleLinkButton)[Purple] (replace: ?RedLinkButton)[Red] (replace: ?WhiteLinkButton)[White] ] (else-if: $ButtonColour is "orangebutton")[ (replace: ?BlackLinkButton)[Black] (replace: ?OrangeLinkButton)[- Orange -] (replace: ?BlueLinkButton)[Blue] (replace: ?GreenLinkButton)[Green] (replace: ?CyanLinkButton)[Cyan] (replace: ?PinkLinkButton)[Pink] (replace: ?PurpleLinkButton)[Purple] (replace: ?RedLinkButton)[Red] (replace: ?WhiteLinkButton)[White] ] (else-if: $ButtonColour is "bluebutton")[ (replace: ?BlackLinkButton)[Black] (replace: ?OrangeLinkButton)[Orange] (replace: ?BlueLinkButton)[- Blue -] (replace: ?GreenLinkButton)[Green] (replace: ?CyanLinkButton)[Cyan] (replace: ?PinkLinkButton)[Pink] (replace: ?PurpleLinkButton)[Purple] (replace: ?RedLinkButton)[Red] (replace: ?WhiteLinkButton)[White] ] (else-if: $ButtonColour is "greenbutton")[ (replace: ?BlackLinkButton)[Black] (replace: ?OrangeLinkButton)[Orange] (replace: ?BlueLinkButton)[Blue] (replace: ?GreenLinkButton)[- Green -] (replace: ?CyanLinkButton)[Cyan] (replace: ?PinkLinkButton)[Pink] (replace: ?PurpleLinkButton)[Purple] (replace: ?RedLinkButton)[Red] (replace: ?WhiteLinkButton)[White] ] (else-if: $ButtonColour is "cyanbutton")[ (replace: ?BlackLinkButton)[Black] (replace: ?OrangeLinkButton)[Orange] (replace: ?BlueLinkButton)[Blue] (replace: ?GreenLinkButton)[Green] (replace: ?CyanLinkButton)[- Cyan -] (replace: ?PinkLinkButton)[Pink] (replace: ?PurpleLinkButton)[Purple] (replace: ?RedLinkButton)[Red] (replace: ?WhiteLinkButton)[White] ] (else-if: $ButtonColour is "pinkbutton")[ (replace: ?BlackLinkButton)[Black] (replace: ?OrangeLinkButton)[Orange] (replace: ?BlueLinkButton)[Blue] (replace: ?GreenLinkButton)[Green] (replace: ?CyanLinkButton)[Cyan] (replace: ?PinkLinkButton)[- Pink -] (replace: ?PurpleLinkButton)[Purple] (replace: ?RedLinkButton)[Red] (replace: ?WhiteLinkButton)[White] ] (else-if: $ButtonColour is "purplebutton")[ (replace: ?BlackLinkButton)[Black] (replace: ?OrangeLinkButton)[Orange] (replace: ?BlueLinkButton)[Blue] (replace: ?GreenLinkButton)[Green] (replace: ?CyanLinkButton)[Cyan] (replace: ?PinkLinkButton)[Pink] (replace: ?PurpleLinkButton)[- Purple -] (replace: ?RedLinkButton)[Red] (replace: ?WhiteLinkButton)[White] ] (else-if: $ButtonColour is "redbutton")[ (replace: ?BlackLinkButton)[Black] (replace: ?OrangeLinkButton)[Orange] (replace: ?BlueLinkButton)[Blue] (replace: ?GreenLinkButton)[Green] (replace: ?CyanLinkButton)[Cyan] (replace: ?PinkLinkButton)[Pink] (replace: ?PurpleLinkButton)[Purple] (replace: ?RedLinkButton)[- Red -] (replace: ?WhiteLinkButton)[White] ] (else-if: $ButtonColour is "whitebutton")[ (replace: ?BlackLinkButton)[Black] (replace: ?OrangeLinkButton)[Orange] (replace: ?BlueLinkButton)[Blue] (replace: ?GreenLinkButton)[Green] (replace: ?CyanLinkButton)[Cyan] (replace: ?PinkLinkButton)[Pink] (replace: ?PurpleLinkButton)[Purple] (replace: ?RedLinkButton)[Red] (replace: ?WhiteLinkButton)[- White -] ] --- <table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td style="font-size:150%;">''Background brightness''</td> </tr> </table> <table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(if: $TextColour is "blacktext" or $ButtonColour is "blackbutton")[~~0%~~](else:)[(link-repeat: "|ZeroBrightnessButton>[0%]")[(set: $BackgroundColour to "zerobrightness")(go-to:"Comfort options")]]</td> <td>(link-repeat: "|TwentyBrightnessButton>[20%]")[(set: $BackgroundColour to "twentybrightness")(go-to:"Comfort options")]</td> <td>(link-repeat: "|FortyBrightnessButton>[40%]")[(set: $BackgroundColour to "fortybrightness")(go-to:"Comfort options")]</td> <td>(link-repeat: "|SixtyBrightnessButton>[60%]")[(set: $BackgroundColour to "sixtybrightness")(go-to:"Comfort options")]</td> <td>(link-repeat: "|EightyBrightnessButton>[80%]")[(set: $BackgroundColour to "eightybrightness")(go-to:"Comfort options")]</td> <td>(if: $TextColour is "whitetext" or $ButtonColour is "whitebutton")[~~100%~~](else:)[(link-repeat: "|OneHundredBrightnessButton>[100%]")[(set: $BackgroundColour to "oneHundredbrightness")(go-to:"Comfort options")]]</td> </tr> </table> (if: $BackgroundColour is "zerobrightness")[ (replace: ?ZeroBrightnessButton)[- 0% -] (replace: ?TwentyBrightnessButton)[20%] (replace: ?FortyBrightnessButton)[40%] (replace: ?SixtyBrightnessButton)[60%] (replace: ?EightyBrightnessButton)[80%] (replace: ?OneHundredBrightnessButton)[100%] ] (else-if: $BackgroundColour is "twentybrightness")[ (replace: ?ZeroBrightnessButton)[0%] (replace: ?TwentyBrightnessButton)[- 20% -] (replace: ?FortyBrightnessButton)[40%] (replace: ?SixtyBrightnessButton)[60%] (replace: ?EightyBrightnessButton)[80%] (replace: ?OneHundredBrightnessButton)[100%] ] (else-if: $BackgroundColour is "fortybrightness")[ (replace: ?ZeroBrightnessButton)[0%] (replace: ?TwentyBrightnessButton)[20%] (replace: ?FortyBrightnessButton)[- 40% -] (replace: ?SixtyBrightnessButton)[60%] (replace: ?EightyBrightnessButton)[80%] (replace: ?OneHundredBrightnessButton)[100%] ] (else-if: $BackgroundColour is "sixtybrightness")[ (replace: ?ZeroBrightnessButton)[0%] (replace: ?TwentyBrightnessButton)[20%] (replace: ?FortyBrightnessButton)[40%] (replace: ?SixtyBrightnessButton)[- 60% -] (replace: ?EightyBrightnessButton)[80%] (replace: ?OneHundredBrightnessButton)[100%] ] (else-if: $BackgroundColour is "eightybrightness")[ (replace: ?ZeroBrightnessButton)[0%] (replace: ?TwentyBrightnessButton)[20%] (replace: ?FortyBrightnessButton)[40%] (replace: ?SixtyBrightnessButton)[60%] (replace: ?EightyBrightnessButton)[- 80% -] (replace: ?OneHundredBrightnessButton)[100%] ] (else-if: $BackgroundColour is "onehundredbrightness")[ (replace: ?ZeroBrightnessButton)[0%] (replace: ?TwentyBrightnessButton)[20%] (replace: ?FortyBrightnessButton)[40%] (replace: ?SixtyBrightnessButton)[60%] (replace: ?EightyBrightnessButton)[80%] (replace: ?OneHundredBrightnessButton)[- 100% -] ] --- <table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td style="font-size:150%;">''Font styles''</td> </tr> </table> <table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-repeat:"|ArialFontButton>[Arial]")[(set: $FontStyle to "ArialFont")(go-to:"Comfort options")]</td> <td>(link-repeat:"|CourierFontButton>[Courier]")[(set: $FontStyle to "CourierFont")(go-to:"Comfort options")]</td> <td>(link-repeat:"|TimesNewRomanFontButton>[Times New Roman]")[(set: $FontStyle to "TimesNewRomanFont")(go-to:"Comfort options")]</td> </tr> <tr> <td>(link-repeat:"|TahomaFontButton>[Tahoma]")[(set: $FontStyle to "TahomaFont")(go-to:"Comfort options")]</td> <td>(link-repeat:"|GeorgiaFontButton>[Georgia]")[(set: $FontStyle to "GeorgiaFont")(go-to:"Comfort options")]</td> <td>(link-repeat:"|GaramondFontButton>[Garamond]")[(set: $FontStyle to "GaramondFont")(go-to:"Comfort options")]</td> </tr> <tr> <td>(link-repeat:"|HelveticaFontButton>[Helvetica]")[(set: $FontStyle to "HelveticaFont")(go-to:"Comfort options")]</td> <td>(link-repeat:"|CalibriFontButton>[Calibri]")[(set: $FontStyle to "CalibriFont")(go-to:"Comfort options")]</td> <td>(link-repeat:"|VerdanaFontButton>[Verdana]")[(set: $FontStyle to "VerdanaFont")(go-to:"Comfort options")]</td> </tr> </table> (if: $FontStyle is "ArialFont")[ (replace: ?ArialFontButton)[- Arial -] (replace: ?CourierFontButton)[Courier] (replace: ?TimesNewRomanFontButton)[Times New Roman] (replace: ?TahomaFontButton)[Tahoma] (replace: ?GeorgiaFontButton)[Georgia] (replace: ?GaramondFontButton)[Garamond] (replace: ?HelveticaFontButton)[Helvetica] (replace: ?CalibriFontButton)[Calibri] (replace: ?VerdanaFontButton)[Verdana] ] (else-if: $FontStyle is "CourierFont")[ (replace: ?ArialFontButton)[Arial] (replace: ?CourierFontButton)[- Courier -] (replace: ?TimesNewRomanFontButton)[Times New Roman] (replace: ?TahomaFontButton)[Tahoma] (replace: ?GeorgiaFontButton)[Georgia] (replace: ?GaramondFontButton)[Garamond] (replace: ?HelveticaFontButton)[Helvetica] (replace: ?CalibriFontButton)[Calibri] (replace: ?VerdanaFontButton)[Verdana] ] (else-if: $FontStyle is "TimesNewRomanFont")[ (replace: ?ArialFontButton)[Arial] (replace: ?CourierFontButton)[Courier] (replace: ?TimesNewRomanFontButton)[- Times New Roman -] (replace: ?TahomaFontButton)[Tahoma] (replace: ?GeorgiaFontButton)[Georgia] (replace: ?GaramondFontButton)[Garamond] (replace: ?HelveticaFontButton)[Helvetica] (replace: ?CalibriFontButton)[Calibri] (replace: ?VerdanaFontButton)[Verdana] ] (else-if: $FontStyle is "TahomaFont")[ (replace: ?ArialFontButton)[Arial] (replace: ?CourierFontButton)[Courier] (replace: ?TimesNewRomanFontButton)[Times New Roman] (replace: ?TahomaFontButton)[- Tahoma -] (replace: ?GeorgiaFontButton)[Georgia] (replace: ?GaramondFontButton)[Garamond] (replace: ?HelveticaFontButton)[Helvetica] (replace: ?CalibriFontButton)[Calibri] (replace: ?VerdanaFontButton)[Verdana] ] (else-if: $FontStyle is "GeorgiaFont")[ (replace: ?ArialFontButton)[Arial] (replace: ?CourierFontButton)[Courier] (replace: ?TimesNewRomanFontButton)[Times New Roman] (replace: ?TahomaFontButton)[Tahoma] (replace: ?GeorgiaFontButton)[- Georgia -] (replace: ?GaramondFontButton)[Garamond] (replace: ?HelveticaFontButton)[Helvetica] (replace: ?CalibriFontButton)[Calibri] (replace: ?VerdanaFontButton)[Verdana] ] (else-if: $FontStyle is "GaramondFont")[ (replace: ?ArialFontButton)[Arial] (replace: ?CourierFontButton)[Courier] (replace: ?TimesNewRomanFontButton)[Times New Roman] (replace: ?TahomaFontButton)[Tahoma] (replace: ?GeorgiaFontButton)[Georgia] (replace: ?GaramondFontButton)[- Garamond -] (replace: ?HelveticaFontButton)[Helvetica] (replace: ?CalibriFontButton)[Calibri] (replace: ?VerdanaFontButton)[Verdana] ] (else-if: $FontStyle is "HelveticaFont")[ (replace: ?ArialFontButton)[Arial] (replace: ?CourierFontButton)[Courier] (replace: ?TimesNewRomanFontButton)[Times New Roman] (replace: ?TahomaFontButton)[Tahoma] (replace: ?GeorgiaFontButton)[Georgia] (replace: ?GaramondFontButton)[Garamond] (replace: ?HelveticaFontButton)[- Helvetica -] (replace: ?CalibriFontButton)[Calibri] (replace: ?VerdanaFontButton)[Verdana] ] (else-if: $FontStyle is "CalibriFont")[ (replace: ?ArialFontButton)[Arial] (replace: ?CourierFontButton)[Courier] (replace: ?TimesNewRomanFontButton)[Times New Roman] (replace: ?TahomaFontButton)[Tahoma] (replace: ?GeorgiaFontButton)[Georgia] (replace: ?GaramondFontButton)[Garamond] (replace: 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(display: "Apply Theme")

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{(if: (passage:)'s name is "Title")[] (else-if: $Footer_DoNotDisplay is false)[ |OptionsMenu>[(display:"Collapsed menu")]] (else:)[ --- <table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <td style="font-size:150%"> (link: "Return")[(set: $Footer_DoNotDisplay to false)(goto:$LastPassage)] </td> </table>] (set: $CurrentTime to (text:(current-date:)) + " " + (text:(current-time:)))}

"Are there any side effects?" you ask, crossing your fingers and hoping half-heartedly for a good answer. "Not to worry, Slut Captain!" your ship's AI happily chimes. "Limited cloning has an incredibly small chance of genetic degradation!" You're halfway through a sigh of relief when you realise that doesn't quite answer your question. "Limited...?" you ask, trailing off. "Approximately one to three restorations can be performed safely without any risk of genetic abnormalities or personality drift." your AI responds. "So... um..." you steel yourself before continuing. "I could potentially be cloned dozens of times throughout this mission, right? If things go really badly... what are the risks?" There's a whirring noise, one that fills you with dread. On a nearby screen, cracked and caked in dust, you can faintly make out a flurry of medical documents being consulted by the AI. "Repeated cloning has a high rate of both genetic abnormalities and personality drift. In your case, personality drift is the largest risk." the AI begins "I have been given permission to make minor modifications to your physiology when needed, to preserve your life." "Minor modifications... what do you mean...?" you ask, although you're not sure you want the answer. "Should cloning degrade your DNA to a point where you would experience genetic illness, I have been instructed to... in layman's terms... "Fill in the gaps" with whatever I deem appropriate." You gulp, a shiver running up your spine. "... and "personality drift?"" The AI is all too happy to elaborate, continuing with horrifying excitement. "Personality drift is a by-product of the black-box technology used to upload your consciousness at the time of mission failure. Although the transmitter used is exceptionally powerful, signal degradation is still a major factor. On a good transmission, up to 3% of current data may be lost, and--" "Wait wait wait! Are you saying that only 97% of "Me" reaches the... "New me"?!" The AI hesitates for a few moments. "No" it eventually responds. You breathe a sigh of relief, only for the AI to suddenly continue. "97% is the optimal data integrity, given our circumstances and equipment. In reality... a 90% integrity transmission would be a moderate concern, but I am confident we could use your PlaNet history to reconstruct the missing data." By the end of the conversation, you feel utterly doomed... and that assessment is probably correct. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>[[Ask about something else->Ship - Cloning tanks]]</td></tr> </table>}

{<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td style="font-size:300%">Save slots</td> </tr> </table> --- <table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td style="font-size:200%">Slot 1</td> </tr> </table> <table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(if: (saved-games:) contains "Slot 1")[(print: (saved-games:)'s "Slot 1")]</td> </tr> </table> <table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link: "Save")[(goto: "Slot 1")]</td> <td>(if: (saved-games:) contains "Slot 1")[(link: "Load")[(load-game: "Slot 1")]](else:)[(EMPTY)]</td> </tr> </table> --- <table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td style="font-size:200%">Slot 2</td> </tr> </table> <table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(if: (saved-games:) contains "Slot 2")[(print: (saved-games:)'s "Slot 2")]</td> </tr> </table> <table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link: "Save")[(goto: "Slot 2")]</td> <td>(if: (saved-games:) contains "Slot 2")[(link: "Load")[(load-game: "Slot 2")]](else:)[(EMPTY)]</td> </tr> </table> --- <table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td style="font-size:200%">Slot 3</td> </tr> </table> <table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(if: (saved-games:) contains "Slot 3")[(print: (saved-games:)'s "Slot 3")]</td> </tr> </table> <table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link: "Save")[(goto: "Slot 3")]</td> <td>(if: (saved-games:) contains "Slot 3")[(link: "Load")[(load-game: "Slot 3")]](else:)[(EMPTY)]</td> </tr> </table>}

Despite knowing it isn't alcohol, or anything remotely close to it, you decide to drink it anyway. You're unsure if it's curiosity, lust, or if your travels thus far have simply forged you into this much of a pervert already. Lifting the glass by its handle, the drink feels warm against your knuckles. The smell is immediate and overpowering, and you're ashamed when your mouth begins to water. The bartender watches you intently as you raise the glass to your lips, and soon the first of its contents are running past your lips. The first mouthful takes you by surprise—you hadn't expected it to taste so strong. It's salty, undeniably masculine, and just viscous enough that you can tell the taste will be stuck with you for days. You gulp it down, feeling the warm seed as the man standing across from you trickles down your throat. Your mind spins, only half aware of how shameful you must look, and you're soon gulping down the rest as fast as you can. You turn the glass upwards, letting out an audible "Aaaaah~" as the final dregs of cum fall past your lips and are quickly swallowed. You feel satisfied and full, your belly filled with the warmth of the bartender's cum. When you regain your senses, you realise that not only the bartender, but the entire population of the bar, have been watching you with interest. Some men are even openly stroking themselves, getting off on how much of a cumslut you are. You might have gotten a little carried away there... --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Oops..." , "Metris-2 - Bar")</td> </tr> </table>}

You give the bartender a stern look. "You didn't seriously think I'd fall for that, did you?" you ask, crossing your arms in irritation. "Heh, wasn't trying to hide it. That little show was all for you, slut." He responds, flashing you a dirty smile. You're unable to stop the redness as it flashes across your cheeks, the bartender's words sinking into you and making you feel especially embarrassed. As the bartender pours his cum down the sink, you wonder what it would have tasted like... --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Shake it off" , "Metris-2 - Bar")</td> </tr> </table>}

You ask the knowledgeable-looking Lunisian if he can tell you about Luna, hoping to gain a generalised understanding of the planet and its culture. "Well..." the Lunisian begins, scratching his chin. "Luna is a large planet with three distinct lunar bodies. The planet is home to about half a dozen sentient species, both terrestrial and aquatic. Many of our physiologies are connected intrinsically to the moons and their orbits." "The lunar cycles are really that important?" you ask, genuinely curious. "Yes!" he excitedly confirmed. Apparently happy to explain the topic further. "The moons affect everything, from the tides to our mating cycles. Even the effectiveness of some of our technologies relies heavily on the gravitational fluctuations that the moons generate." Their expression becomes notably less friendly all of a sudden. You get the impression they're forcing themselves to be polite, but they can't help but glare at you for a few moments before continuing. "During the planetary annihilation of Metris by the Vulpis..." He motions to you for a moment as if to firmly place blame upon your species. "... Our beloved fourth moon was also destroyed. This threw our entire ecology and civilisation into disarray for decades. Even today, many species must accommodate for the loss of our moon and the impact it had on our planet's gravity". You feel genuine guilt as he speaks. His pain is apparent and likely shared by his people. "To add insult to injury... many of our religious beliefs were based on the presence of our four moons." He begins. The contempt he showed you moments ago has been replaced with grief. "Their names are difficult for non-Vulpis, even with a universal translator... but they translate as "Truth", "Justice", "Mercy" and... the one your people destroyed was "Peace"." "I'm sorry, I didn't know..." you find yourself saying. Your words are hollow and meaningless. "When our fourth moon was destroyed, many of us believed it was an accident. That Metris was the target, and our moon was an unfortunate article of collateral damage... but..." he trails off for a moment. "Of all the moons your people could have destroyed... why Peace?" You don't have an answer. He knows that. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Ask about something else" , "Scientific institute")</td> </tr> </table>}

The scholarly wolf looks confused for a few moments, trying to think of how best to discuss his species' features with you. Eventually, he settles on showing off some of his own features. He takes a few moments to spin in place, show you his muzzle, ears and tail, and even bares his fangs for you–although he gets embarrassed quite quickly. "S-sorry! Baring our fangs is something we use to display anger, discontent, and... dominance." He says, that final word almost a whisper. He quickly scrambles to regain his composure. "Sorry! It felt a little unusual to show a stranger that!" "No worries!" you tell him. "Please continue." "We Lunisians are a bipedal species resembling Terran wolves. We can be male, female, or occasionally other sexes, and our main contributions to the system are our advances in gravitational sciences." he recites, obviously having memorised this bit of the tour. "Gravitational sciences?" you ask, having spotted all kinds of interesting technologies on display around the room. "Yes. We specialise in gravitational equipment and devices." he begins. "Things like warp cores, Alcubierre drives, surface impact buffering modules, and the like." "How come you became so specialised?" you ask, wondering how the Lunisian people overcame their past hardships and became so profoundly advanced. The scholar's expression hardens, and you immediately regret your question. He still radiates pride, but there's a heavy helping of pain to go along with it. "Simply put, we had no other choice. Our advancement was necessary for our continued survival." He tells you, with a morose tone to his voice. "After the destruction of one of our moons, we became dependent on artificial solutions to offset sicknesses which accompanied the sudden changes to our planet's gravity." He leads you over to a large mural. You saw it as soon as you walked in. The artwork dominates the space; it appears out of place beside the advanced devices and gadgets that surround it. In the painting, Lunisians can be seen crowding around a large chamber of some kind. Exposed wires and pipes are visible, as if the device is an early prototype. It reminds you of the decompression chambers that divers use to acclimate to different pressures. "Imagine it..." he says after some time in silence, a sad theatricality to his voice. "... You wake up one morning, and your planet's gravity is completely different. You endure periods of weightlessness where you scramble to hold onto something–anything–to prevent yourself from drifting into the sky... and then you're thrown back to the ground. Injured, if not worse." You're not sure how to respond, so you do not. The scholar motions back to the painting. "Our top minds were first able to create artificial gravity chambers. We were able to shelter the most vulnerable of our people from the cruelty of the new reality we faced... but..." he trails off again, staring into the middle distance. "... we could save so few." Suddenly, he brings his hand to a device on his wrist. His fingers grip pridefully at it for a moment before he rolls down his sleeve to give you a better look. On his wrist is an ergonomic-looking bracelet, coloured white, with a central bauble glowing a dark purple colour. The soft glow it produces visibly fluctuates, never remaining stationary. "My grandparents never gave up on this world, even when some of us began to leave," he tells you with burning pride. "They toiled away for decades, refining their theorems and designs in order to create these devices we all wear: Consistency Anchors. With these, we can live normal lives in defiance of our past." Admittedly, the story moves you. The Lunisian seems to pick up on that, and any contempt he had for you personally seems to fade away. "As an added bonus," he continues, still beaming with pride," By the time we'd solved our own problems, we were also the best at creating gravity-related tech for dozens of systems in every direction. Maybe the very best." --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Ask about something else" , "Scientific institute")</td> </tr> </table>}

After asking your question, the scholar stares at you for a few silent moments. Crimson begins spreading across his cheeks, and he hurries to block eye contact with a nearby clipboard. "D-didn't your ship's AI tell you when you were landing?" He stammers out. "It's kind of a massive deal!" You let out a deep sigh. "My ship's AI has been... uncooperative... lately," you respond, downplaying the problem by a pretty ridiculous degree. "Please... fill me in?" The scholarly Lunisian shows his face again. It's still bright, although he endeavours to tell you about "The Drive" despite his intense embarrassment. "Ok, so... Lunisian physiology is heavily tied to the lunar cycles, right? Well, this includes our mating seasons, moods, and sex drives too. The only thing is... it was tied to our original four moons. It still is, if we're being honest," As he speaks, you quickly understand the problem. "Without our fourth moon, we experience a brief but exceptionally intense "heat" once every four days. You should get warnings to leave the planet when that happens, though! Our systems are very robust, and we've made sure all visitors are warned through multiple channels." "That sounds... incredibly inconvenient", you respond, euphemising quite a bit. "And you haven't found a solution after all this time?" The Lunisian raises his arm to show you a device on his wrist. "We have "Consistency Anchors", but we can't wear them all the time without hurting ourselves. Eventually, you need a break... and sometimes... it falls on a fourth moon. Most of us remain at home when that happens, and our entire society is built around that... but..." He trails off, giving you a slightly ashamed look. "... Not everyone does that," he squeaks out. "Some people... take advantage of the situation." He stares you down, watching you until redness begins to form in your cheeks–confirmation of your understanding. "Needless to say, don't be here during a fourth moon, ok?" he says, and you get the feeling he's warning you specifically. "... To put it bluntly, you'll get absolutely obliterated if you do." His comment, and the matter-of-fact way he says it, leave you blushing and far too flustered to continue this topic. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Ask about something else" , "Scientific institute")</td> </tr> </table> (set: $Luna_AskedAboutLunisians to true)}

{(set: $Slot1Date to $CurrentTime) (save-game: "Slot 1" , $Slot1Date) (goto:"Saves")}

{(set: $Slot2Date to $CurrentTime) (save-game: "Slot 2" , $Slot2Date) (goto: "Saves")}

{(set: $Slot3Date to $CurrentTime) (save-game: "Slot 3" , $Slot3Date) (goto: "Saves")}

{<p style="width:100%; text-align:center;font-size:300%;">''FOXXX''</p> (display: "Image : Unsure") <p style="width:100%; text-align:center;font-size:150%;">Build 45 - (10/02/23)</p>} --- { <table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>[[Start->Introduction - Wake up]]</td></tr> <tr><td>(link-goto: "Skip the intro" , "Ship - Hub")</td></tr> <tr><td>(link: "Load game")[(set: $LastPassage to (passage:)'s name)(set: $Footer_DoNotDisplay to true)(go-to:"Saves")]</td></tr> <tr><td>(link: "Settings")[(set: $LastPassage to (passage:)'s name)(set: $Footer_DoNotDisplay to true)(go-to:"Comfort options")]</td></tr> </table> }

{(set: $Event to (random: 1,5)) (if: $Event is 1)[(goto: "Glory hole - Normal dick")] (else-if: $Event is 2)[(goto: "Glory hole - Knotted dick")] (else-if: $Event is 3)[(goto: "Glory hole - Tentacle dick")] (else-if: $Event is 4)[(goto: "Glory hole - Horse dick")] (else:)[(goto: "Glory hole - Robo dick")]     }

When you ask about him, somehow, the cyborg looks tired. A sigh passes through his speech synthesiser, the residual static or the device hurting your ears. "I left Na'Ja after an accident and came here. Figured out I was good with cybernetics, and I've been helping folks with their cybernetics ever since," he tells you, although obviously cutting parts of his story short for reasons unknown.{ }(if: $Experienced_GivenBrainScan is false)[ They suddenly continue. "Aside from helping folks, I also conduct some experiments. Right now, I'm looking for some brain scans to run tests on. Wanna volunteer?"] --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>(link-goto: "Ask about something else" , "Mechanist")</td></tr> </table>}

"Say, uh..." you begin, unsure how to ask the question in an inoffensive way. "How come you're talking to me? I thought the Na'Ja hate verbal communication." A deep sigh reverberates through the snake man's speech synthesiser. It's somewhere between sadness and irritation, and you immediately regret asking. "As you can probably see... assuming you have functional eyes... I'm a cyborg," the snake man says, patronising you with every word. "I was involved in an accident where only a portion of my brain survived. Besides requiring a cybernetic body, my psionic abilities were... severed." "I'm sorry..." you mumble out, unsure what else to say.{ }(if: $Experienced_GivenBrainScan is false)[ "That's why I need brain scans. It's for my research, so I can transfer myself back into a psionically-capable body someday." he shares, although you can't help but wonder if a single cyborg in a rusty old workshop is going to manage that.] --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>(link-goto: "Ask about something else" , "Mechanist")</td></tr> </table>}

"H-hold on a second. Why do you want brain scans?" you ask. He seems excited to discuss his work, offering you the information freely. "Ever heard of ego transference? Body swapping? I want those brain scans to run some experiments." They run their carbon fibre hands down their front with obvious sadness. There doesn't appear to be a single bit of their body that isn't synthetic.{ }(if: $Experienced_GivenBrainScan is false)[ "I can assure your safety... and your pleasure...should you volunteer the scans," he says, watching you intently. "... and of course, you will be handsomely compensated for your help."] --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>(link-goto: "Ask about something else" , "Mechanist")</td></tr> </table>}

{(set: $Experienced_GivenBrainScan to true) }Despite the dozens of red flags, you decide to offer the cybernetic snake man the brain scans he keeps asking for. "Really? You'll let me take the scans?" he asks, growing increasingly excited as he realises you're serious. "You have my gratitude! In fact... let me show you just how "grateful" I am..." You let out a gasp as the Na'Ja slithers over to you, quickly wrapping you in their synthetic coils. You expected their body to be cold and hard, but you're pleasantly surprised to find that plush, faux-flesh coats their underside, making their embrace strangely comfortable. While you're distracted by his surprisingly soft body, he places a bulky helmet on your head. There's a flash of light, and you experience a mild headache as the device whirrs and beeps. You wince and read for the helmet, but he grips your wrist. "Please, be strong. I'll help you with the pain..." In a matter of seconds, the deft mechanical hands of your cybernetic lover strip away your clothes, and soon you feel something grinding against your back door. His intentions are clear, his coils wrapping around you tighter and tighter, and soon he's pushing into you. His cock feels... bizarre. It's more like some kind of exotic sex toy than anything else, although you suppose it makes sense, given his cyborg body. Grinding into you with semi-purposeful roughness, coaxing moans from your lips and small tears from your eyes, it isn't long before he's hilting you. Where you expect him to pull out and prepare for another thrust, you're surprised when he remains entirely still. Instead, much to your shock, his cock itself begins to move. In an instant, you realise that the snake man's cock is, in fact, a sophisticated sex toy, now vibrating and letting out brief electric shocks, all directed towards your prostate with pinpoint accuracy. You gasp and squirm in the snake man's coils, the dull throbbing in your head completely forgotten in lieu of your now rapidly-approaching orgasm. With a final zap to your prostate, your body betrays you. You writhe in complete ecstasy as you drench the coils constricting you in your seed. It feels utterly exhausting to have been so precisely pushed to climax, and your uneven breaths are rendered shallow by the tight embrace of your lover. When you express that you're completely spent, you're terrified when the snake man refuses to slow down. It takes you a few moments to realise that his coils now constrict your arms, in addition to the rest of your body. "Just relax..." he coos down at you, coils tightening. "I'll have those results soon... just a few more hours." "H-hours?!" you blurt out, gasping when his coils suddenly squeeze you tightly. You struggle, but escape is utterly impossible. Suddenly, his vibrating, electro-stim cock begins ramping up. You grit your teeth as the sensations send you immediately spiralling into another orgasm, and another, and another... Alabaster pours out between the snake's coils as he forces you to empty your balls over and over again. Soon, it becomes too much. Your balls ache, and your eyelids feel heavy. Darkness creeps into the edges of your vision, and soon your head falls against the coiling body of your lover. . . . When you regain consciousness, you're lying on a hastily cobbled-together bed of pillows, balanced haphazardly on various scraps and discarded prosthetics. In the corner of the room, you can see the cyborg snake hammering away at a keyboard, obviously frustrated. "H-hello?" you call out, stumbling to your feet. When the cybernetic serpent fails to acknowledge you, you tap them on the shoulder. Still nothing, and you soon realise that tapping on their metal body probably isn't going to get a response. As a last-ditch effort, you wave a hand in front of his face, and his reaction is one of immediate anger. "What do you want? Why are you still here?" he questions, continuing to type away. On the screen, there are symbols and diagrams that you can't recognise. "Please..." he begins, demeanour softening. "Leave me for a while, would you? This is... delicate work." You decide to leave him to it and quietly pull on your jumpsuit before you leave. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>(link-goto: "Leave him alone" , "Metris-2")</td></tr> </table>}

Although it feels profoundly unethical, you agree to "test out" the sexbot. The Mechanist drums on a nearby keyboard for a few moments before activating the android with a final, exaggerated key press. You watch as the android flickers to life, its eyes glowing brightly. It stumbles away from the wall, wires and connections falling away with hisses and sparks, and it soon stands directly in front of you. It speaks through a cheap voice synthesiser... and why wouldn't it? The being, the machine, in front of you is designed for one thing only: Sex. Its mouth, which is just an obscene-looking fleshlight, doesn't move when it talks. "W-what have you done to me?" it asks the snake man, who just shrugs and continues working. "We... you... did this..." it accuses, approaching you with sudden, malicious intent. "I-" you begin, but its mechanical hands grip your throat before you can finish. Its grip tightens, and the world begins to darken. "Override: Enable Asimov protocols", the Mechanist suddenly calls out, and the android immediately releases you. "Sorry, should've enabled that from the beginning. At least you caught that bug before they injured anyone!" You cough and splutter, regaining your breath and massaging your bruised neck. "R-right..." "Here," the snake man begins. "Let me help it apologise." He turns towards the android, now motionless and waiting, albeit spitting out all kinds of obscenities. "Suck," he commands, and the android immediately strips away your jumpsuit and falls to its knees. Its faux-mouth drips with synthetic lubricant, and all of its protests have ceased. From its electronic eyes and the way it's looking at you, you can tell that its actions are being overridden, but there's nothing it can do. You quickly tease and stroke yourself to full mast, and the android begins immediately. There's a wet slap as it leans forward, taking your shaft into its fleshlight mouth. With mechanical rhythm, the faux-you throats your cock with expert vigour. Its lips, mouth and throat are all composed of a slick, plush, constantly self-lubricating material that invites you to be as rough as you please. Soon, you're smashing each thrust into the android's face. There's no point in being gentle, is there? You doubt that they can feel this... and even if they could, it feels so amazing that you doubt you could stop yourself. Within only a few moments, you're unloading your balls down the android's deliciously soft throat. They look up at you with a pleading expression, but you're so aroused that you immediately start on round two. Like clockwork, the android's throat brings you to climax, and you shamelessly mate with their face over and over again. Any guilt you might have felt is buried beneath the pleasure and overwhelming relief that their specially-designed fuck-aperture brings you. . . . Almost an hour later, your balls are completely drained, and you withdraw from the android's well-used throat. A long string of your seed connects the tip of your cock to its mouth. On the android's stomach, the material is transparent, which allows you to see how much you filled them. Their tank is still mostly empty, but you doubt that will be the case for long. "I think that's enough testing", the Mechanist suddenly announces, and with a few key presses, the android is hurrying out the workshop doors. You brace yourself against a nearby tabletop, breathing heavily, horrified and aroused by what you've just done. "W-where did they go?" you ask the snake man through uneven breaths. "Hm...? Oh! Right. I sent them to go make me some money." he explains, far more casually than he probably should. "If you want to see them again, maybe you'll bump into them around town?" --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>(link-goto: "Leave" , "Metris-2")</td></tr> </table>}

You lead the android into a dark alley, and once you're sure that you're alone, you through your jumpsuit aside. The android, programmed submissiveness, immediately falls to its knees and braces for a face-fucking. Your cybernetic self's eyes flicker from side to side, unable to shake their head. No later than your member hardens, the android begins servicing you. It leans forward until you're hilting its soft, self-lubricating "mouth". You reach for the back of its head and are surprised to find a convenient handle. Having already compromised whatever morals you had before entering the alley, you find no problems using the faux-you with wanton lust. You grip the handle mounted on its head and begin facefucking it, ramming your dick down its textured, self-lubricating throat. It's so perfect that within a few minutes, you're pumping your first load past its lips. For some debauched reason that you can't quite explain, you even withdraw and paint the poor android's face too. You're spent and satisfied while your cybernetic copy looks up at you with utter disdain. You leave your android facsimile behind, and as you do, you watch a group of grizzled pirates enter that same alleyway. A moment later, obscured below the hooting and hollering of the men, come several warnings from the android. "This unit is not equipped for double oral." "This unit is not equipped for triple oral." "That aperture is not a sexual device. Please refrain from-" Wet slapping emanates from the alleyway as your android self continues to emit warnings. You turn away from the sounds with redness in your cheeks and shame in your heart. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>(link-goto: "Leave the alley behind" , "Metris-2")</td></tr> </table>}

Despite your last run-in with the creature, and against your own best judgement, you decide to confront the creature again. It turns, just as unimpressed as last time, that same insatiable hunger burning in its eyes. With incredible speed, the gigantic ocean predator grips your throat, lifts you with ease, and pins you against the wall. Just as before, he's soon grinding his massive, mutant manhood against your torso. It's thicker than your torso, but this time that doesn't seem to dissuade him. Much to your horror, he hefts you up, presses the tip of his monstrous cock to your still-clothed rear, and simply begins to force you down. You cry and scream but are ignored. With force alone, he forces your poor tail hole to accommodate him, stretching you wider than you've ever been stretched before. Even taking his cock head is enough to bulge your stomach and leave you on the verge of losing consciousness. There's nothing you can do as they lodge their fat, agonisingly thick cock into your guts. The stretchy fabric of your jumpsuit rear finally bursts, and you immediately feel him leaking inside you. You let out a silent, breathless scream, tears rolling down your face as the gigantic sea creature squashes his cock through your guts. Ultimately, he only manages to push half of his cock into you simply because you're too small to take any more of it. He builds into a brutal rhythm–slow, bone-breaking thrusts that leave you on the verge of unconsciousness. You beg for mercy but receive none. His thrusts soon rupture the rubbery jumpsuit fabric across your stomach, revealing the reddened, bruised-from-the-inside flesh beneath it and the silhouette of his gargantuan cock as it smashes into you. When he cums inside you, his load inflates your stomach and pumps up your throat. His cum gushes from your mouth, drenching your sloshing, close-to-bursting stomach. You lose consciousness... and are immensely grateful as darkness takes you. . . . The sounds of sloshing and whimpering precede your arrival as your new master hauls you through the darkened, leaking hallways of the deep sea research station. You survived your confrontation with the megalithic shark, although you quickly began to wish that you hadn't. Since your capture, he's chained you to his front, spearing you constantly on his gene-modded cock. The reddened, constantly-bruised flesh of your middle has been bloated spherical for as long as you can remember. If nothing else, your constantly cum-ballooned stomach has prevented you from starving. Your stretched asshole has, through some miracle, grown used to the girth of your new life partner's cock, although you'll never be tight again. In fact, even if you were rescued, the extreme abuse your body has endured has rendered it unsuitable for anything but use as a cum dump for hyper-endowed men. Similarly, your mind has also suffered beneath the constant discomfort, abuse and shame and has, by this point, completely dissolved. Your loss of self is a small mercy, and you were glad to escape the constant pain and humiliation. Incapable of continuing your adventure for no shortage of reasons, your black box activates. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: ". . ." , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table>}

You stumble aimlessly through the dense wilderness, brushing aside branches and stumbling carefully between thick smatterings of wildflowers. When you break into a clear, however, you're surprised to find someone. Ahead of you, currently bent over a rock and wiggling their plump rear at you, is an unusually effeminate Lunisian. He looks over his shoulder at you, winking and slapping at his plush rear. You can feel the crotch of your jumpsuit beginning to bulge. "Hey there, stud. Looking for a good time?" he casually asks, as if this kind of meeting is a regular occurrence for him. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Fuck them->Lunisian Omega sex]]</td> <td>(link-goto: "Refuse" , "Luna - Wildlands journey")</td> </tr> </table>}

Making your way through the dense foliage, doing your best to avoid low-hanging branches and stray roots, you soon stagger into a clearing. This far into the lush forest, the asteroid-impacted planet seems strangely tranquil. In a flash, however, the peace is stolen from you. From behind, someone calls out to you, and you flinch. If someone was following you, you didn't hear them at all. You turn, finding yourself face-to-chest with a particularly muscular, tall Lunisian. "Are you lost, little fox?" he patronisingly asks you, leering down at you and licking his lips. You open your mouth to respond but immediately find your gaze travelling downwards. Although the wolf wears a sash, his lower body is completely uncovered. The size of his manhood, in addition to his muscular physique, radiates a potent masculine energy that leaves you utterly speechless. "Perhaps you'd like a closer look?" He suddenly asks, grinning down at you with a lustful smile. "If you were to join my harem, I'd be more than happy to indulge you." You get the feeling that if you accept his offer, it will be a very permanent arrangement... Do you join his harem? --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Accept his offer->Alpha bad end]]</td> <td>[[Reject it->Alpha leaves]]</td> </tr> </table>}

As you journey through the deep, dark woods, you suddenly realise how quiet it's gotten. The bird song that had accompanied your journey is now completely absent. You turn as you hear a twig snap, but there's nothing there. Hurriedly, you rush into a nearby clearing. You spin in place, scanning the treeline but spotting no signs of life. You feel safe for a moment—until something steps out from behind a nearby tree. They're the most monstrously massive Lunisian you've ever seen. You're left terrified and confused; how could something so huge sneak up on you? He's drooling, staring down at you like you're a particularly juicy steak. As you stare up at him, heart racing, he smiles down at you with a manic, crazy grin. His jagged teeth gleam in what little light is permitted beyond the forest canopy. "You..." he finally growls out, as if seconds from attacking you. He finishes. "You come... we fuck...?" His obscene proposal hangs in the air, and you're left to make your decision as he snarls and drools, waiting for you to speak. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Go with him->Outcast bad end]](if: $ContentWarnings is "High")[ 🤕]</td> <td>[[Escape->Escape Outcast]]</td> </tr> </table>}

Curiosity getting the better of you, you return to the cult-occupied impact crater. You leave your buggy some distance away, hoping that the low growl of its engine won't betray your approach. When you reach the edge of the crater and gingerly poke your head over the threshold, you're surprised to find that there are far, far more cultists than before. You watch as they sing forgotten hymns, partake in various acts of sexuality, and scrawl indecipherable runes into the side of the meteorite. You're filled with curiosity and want to get a closer look, but given how your last run-in with the cult went... well... you have a pretty good idea of how this will play out. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Revisit the cult->Revisit Lunisian Cult]]</td> <td>(link-goto: "Keep your distance" , "Luna - Wildlands journey")</td> </tr> </table>}

{   (if: $LunaCultCounter is 0)[(goto:"Lunisian cult bad end")] (else-if: $LunaCultCounter is 1)[(goto:"Lunisian revisit cult bad end")] (else:)[(goto:"Lunisian cult repeating bad end")]}

As you drive across the sweltering wildlands of Luna, looking for some artefacts to help you on your journey, you suddenly spot something in the distance. When your buggy pulls closer, you realise that it's an impact crater of some kind. You recall reading that the fragmented fourth moon of Luna still occasionally rains down on the planet's surface. Around the base of the impact crater, dozens of Lunisians are standing. Each of them wears ghostly white face paint, tattered blood-red garb, and more importantly... none of them are wearing any technology to prevent the ultra-potent heat that all Lunisians are perpetually afflicted with. They seem calm for now, but you shouldn't get too close. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Take a closer look->Lunisian cult]]</td> <td>(link-goto: "Keep your distance" , "Luna - Wildlands journey")</td> </tr> </table> (set: $LunaMeteor_BeenBefore to true) }

Having learned nothing from your past encounter, or perhaps too aroused by the prospect of further debauchery, you climb into the crater and slide down its edge. Just like before, you're spotted almost immediately. The cultists set aside their clothes and swarm you with feverish excitement, and you're immediately dragged into a sea of naked bodies. Unlike the first time you arrived, their opinions of you seem to have dramatically improved. Where once you were called "Destroyer" and "Demon", they now call you "Lover" and "Plaything". You suppose that the last time you visited, they did have a pretty extensive opportunity to explore all you have to offer. The crotch of your jumpsuit is beginning to tent, and they're quick to help you out of it. You kneel, finding yourself at perfect crotch level with the fervent cultists. Your mouth is watering. All that's left to do is choose the first cock to suck. You choose the neediest-looking one, throbbing hypnotically and dripping like a faucet. The man smiles happily as you scoot closer and choose his cock to slobber over first. Overwhelmed by the smell and taste of the man, you're soon distributing your oral affections to the other cultists. You kiss balls and suck on knots until every last man's cock is slick with your saliva. You thank the cult's unknown God for giving you such a lewd opportunity. Content with your worship, they desire more, and you're all too happy to oblige. Before long, you're gagging on a man's knot while he facefucks you. Luckily, it gets easier to swallow cocks when you have such repeated, unrelenting practice, and you're grateful for every inch that passes your lips. You arch your back, inviting the cultists you use your plush derriere in addition to your throat, and an excited queue soon forms. You moan around the knot in your cheeks as an unseen cultist pushes into you, their messy, excitable thrusts soon having you spurting your seed into the dirt. They're immediately replaced, just as quickly as the men using your throat. Each cultist seems even more aroused than the last, eager for their turn and desperate to show their faith by pumping their load into you. Some men empty their balls deep down your throat or deep in your guts, while others pull out and drench you in their seed. What they all have in common, however, is utter contentment... a feeling that with each fucking you have come to share. Dozens of men later, your fur appears pure white, completely drenched in the cultists' cum. Your stomach is rounded and full, in stark contrast to your empty balls. You're spent, never having felt more sexually satisfied, and you're excited when the cultists descend on you once more—intent on rounds 2, 3, and a dozen more after that. . . . The cultists decide to keep you, having interpreted your return as a gift from their nameless God. You will spend the rest of your days being worshipped and used, your body becoming the enticing centrepiece for the cult's newest recruitment strategy. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Pray for more pleasure" , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table> (set: $LunaCultCounter to 1)}

Having learned nothing from your prior run-in with the cultists, or perhaps too horny at the thought of what they'll do with //two// of you, you slide down once more into the crater. As you arrive, the cultists cease their celebrations and turn to you. Shock spreads across their faces, and a few even draw their weapons. It's only when a familiar face stumbles from the crowd, welcoming you to the orgy, that the cultists celebrate once more. Standing a few paces from you is your former self, naked and cum-soaked, their body adorned in dozens of softly glowing runes and sigils. They extend their hand to you and invite you to join the perpetual celebration... and you immediately accept. You let out a surprised gasp when your clone pulls you close, pressing their lips to yours, and you're soon kissing them deeply. Their—your—lips are so soft, and you're not a half-bad kisser either. You find yourself grinding against your clone as they embrace you, undressing you without breaking the kiss. When your doppelganger does pull away, a thin string of saliva connects both your lips. He crouches in front of you, tracing kisses down your front as he does. When his snout reaches your crotch, his breaths are uneven and warm, immediately betraying his arousal. Your breaths are similarly uneven, and you gasp as he presses his lips to your sheath. They know everything you like—of course, they do—they're privy to all of your deepest, darkest little pleasures and know exactly how to push your buttons. They lap at your crotch, coaxing you to full mast in a matter of seconds. Every action they take is a deliberate, intense act of self-love designed by you, for you. They take your member into their mouth and soon into their throat as well. Is that really how your mouth feels? No wonder so many people seem intent on stuffing it... You're embarrassed when your clone's mouth and throat drive you to orgasm far faster than you expected, but there's no judgement here. They look up at you, cleaning off your cock with their tongue, with an expression that seems to say, "Don't worry, we'll be doing this forever". As if to illustrate this, they bend over a nearby shard of meteorite and lift their tail. Your heart racing, you immediately line up your tip with his hole, pushing inside and gasping from the tightness. You understand now... why everyone seems so intent on fucking you. You can't even blame them anymore. Gripping your clone's hips, you're soon fucking him in earnest. Your inflating knot slaps increasingly wetly against his ass, and you're continually spurred on by all the cute noises he's making. Suddenly, you let out a surprised yelp as cultists join in your debauchery. One man pushes into your clone's mouth, and a second pushes into your rear. Similarly, the other cultists quickly descend into a frenzied orgy. Between your clone's plush rear and the cock pumping into your own, you're soon shaking and crying out as you empty your balls into your former self while all others involved climax as well. Warmth fills your guts before the man withdraws from you, and another immediately takes his place. Hours later, you're utterly fucked silly. Every sexual indulgence imaginable is at your fingertips, and you welcome it all, slack-jawed and moaning. By the time a cultist officiates your indulgences by painting those same glowing sigils across your body, you've already decided to live the rest of your life here, fucking and sucking, in service of a religion you don't understand. . . . You and your prior self commit continual acts of obscene self-love; your endless lovemaking arouses the cultists into more frenzied lovemaking than ever before. Even if you weren't addicted to the taste of their—your—cock, you doubt you'd ever want to leave. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Learn to love yourself" , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table> (set: $LunaCultCounter to 2)}

Curious, you ask to purchase the Pleasure Patches. The merchant beams at you, complimenting your choice. "Pleasure Patches!" he begins as if reading from some unseen script. "Electro, Vibro, and Psionostimulatory pads! They're guaranteed to have you cumming instantly and repeatedly, as much as you like! They're non-invasive and stick to your skin. They're even rechargeable!" "That sounds amazing!" you blurt out, red-faced. "How come I've never heard of these before?" His face drops for a moment, and he lets out an exaggerated shrug. "Well, uh... there was a safety concern some years back. Pretty minor, really..." You cross your arms. "Go on..." "And..." he trails off for a few moments. "Well, a few buyers didn't realise that they charge wirelessly... so if someone doesn't intervene, and you're not strong-willed enough... you just sort of... cum endlessly." "You were planning to tell me that, right?" you question the merchant, poking an accusatory finger to his chest. "Of course, of course!" he says, failing to convince you in the slightest. //You spent 250 credits on Pleasure Patches! They're now available back on your ship!// --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link: "Bid the merchant farewell")[(set: $HasItem_PleasurePatches to true) (set: $Credits to it - 250)(goto: "Get in your buggy")]</td> </tr> </table>}

With redness in your cheeks, you express interest in the OmniFucker-MK2. With an immediate grin, the merchant lets out a booming laugh. "Of course you're interested! Who could resist such an alluring device! A milking device and fucking machine combined, and portable too!" He recites, his delivery making you suspect that he practiced this beforehand. "W-well... uh..." he begins, just as quickly trailing off. He only continues when you verbally prod him to do so. "Well, you see... The safety measures on these devices are a little... unreliable." "What do you mean "unreliable"?" you pry, watching as the merchant desperately tries to continue the sale. "Unreliable in the sense that... um... it... doesn't have any." He admits, finally coming clean. "If you crank it too high by mistake, you'll just have to wait until the batteries die. You still want it, though, right?" Concerned about the toy you're buying but too aroused by his description to turn it down, you nod and transfer the requested credits. //You spent 500 credits on an OmniFucker! It's now available back on your ship!// --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link: "Bid the merchant farewell")[(set: $HasItem_OmniFucker to true) (set: $Credits to it - 500)(goto: "Get in your buggy")</td> </tr> </table>}

You open your box of Pleasure Patches and begin connecting the electrode-like stickers to specific spots on your skin. You place pairs on your ass, taint, balls, nipples, and finally, your temples. The remote only has a switch to turn the device on and off. There's no mention of intensity nor any other settings. There are no mentions of safety or comfort at all. You take a deep breath, too horny to turn back now, and with only a moment of hesitation... you flip the switch. For a few moments, there's very little change. You feel clear-headed, albeit a little warm. When you look down at your body, however, you find that you're already erect and throbbing. Ok, so maybe you do feel a /little/ pent up, and maybe you do want to stroke yourself a little bit... which is why you're... doing that. You take a shaky breath, gripping your cock and beginning to masturbate feverishly. You're bow-legged as you do, barely holding it together as you careen towards your first climax. When it finally hits, you're sent falling onto your back, screaming in ecstasy as you shoot ropes of cum with such force that a few hit the ceiling. You can't think. Nothing else matters. Every neuron in your brain struggles to process the intense pleasure you're experiencing, and you're immediately addicted. You scramble to your feet, your cock still pulsing and dripping cum, and begin masturbating again. Much to your surprise, you feel a second climax approaching almost immediately, your refractory period seemingly having vanished. Biting your lip and barely stopping yourself from falling again, you pump cum over your bedsheets. A moment later, you've grabbed one of your pillows. You hump it with reckless abandon, acting more like a misbehaving pet than a person. Soon, it's completely soaked through with your seed. You're drooling, but you don't notice it. You stumble out of your quarters and wander aimlessly around the ship. You're utterly consumed by lust, the need to empty your balls over and over again, and to that end, you mate with literally anything even remotely fuckable. From the plush fabric of your Captain's chair, to the flickering status screens in the halls, to particularly curvy sections of the interior hull, you mate shamelessly and repeatedly. With each debauched orgasm, the next only feels more potent. You can't think about anything but cumming your worthless brains out. Finally, your body can no longer endure the strain of the countless, overwhelming orgasms, and darkness begins to fill your vision. As the world fades, you're faintly aware of warmth splattering against your face. . . . When you wake up a few hours later, you find that the Pleasure Patches are still attached to you, albeit no longer working. You stagger to your feet, bracing yourself on a nearby wall. Your body aches, and you're completely spent. All you want to do is sleep, but that desire is soon stolen from you. "Slut Captain." your ship's AI suddenly booms. "I suggest cleaning up this awful mess before continuing." "I will. I just need a rest first," you cough out, body aching as you speak. "Slut Captain." your ship begins, electronic displeasure in its voice. "I am in possession of the remote for your current toy. I suggest you begin cleaning. Now." Under threat of further exhaustion, you begin the tedious task of cleaning the ship. You managed to get cum just about everywhere, and this only adds to your torment.{ }(if: $HasItem_PuppyPal is true)[ As you clean, you hear the sound of slurping from the next room. With some trepidation, you turn the corner and find your Puppy Pal android happily lapping at a pool of your seed. You're mortified, albeit aroused when he looks up at you with a satisfied smile on his face. Your cum drips messily from his extended tongue. "W-what are you doing? That... can't be hygienic," you concernedly point out. "Oh! Don't worry, master. I can synthesise antibacterial compounds on my tongue!" the android cheerfully explains, obviously very proud of themselves. A moment later, they're licking your cum from a nearby wall. It's almost cute, in an exceptionally gross kind of way...] When the ship is finally clean, some hours later, you stumble into a warm shower, then flop into bed and immediately fall into a deep, exceptionally satisfying sleep. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>(link-goto: "Sleep it off" , "Ship - Bunks")</td></tr> </table>}

You excitedly pull off your clothes and throw them aside, slipping the first few straps of your OmniFucker-MK2 around your waist. The device lengthens and contracts around you, hugging your waist and thighs firmly but comfortably. You trace your finger around the tip of your cock, then stroke yourself until you're hard and your member is poking through the milking aperture of the device. When you adjust a few more straps, you feel the probing tip of the device's dildo prodding your hole. Seemingly reacting to touching you, both the sleeve now affixed around your cock and the dildo poised to fuck you begin secreting a lubricating fluid. It gives off a strong, masculine scent, and you begin to feel strangely aroused. Mouth watering, you pick up the OmniFucker's remote and excitedly turn it on. Slowly but firmly, the dildo pushes past your ring, and the sleeve around your cock begins sliding up and down your length. It feels good, and you quickly become used to the sensations. Fiddling with the remote, you press the "Speed up" button. In an instant, the device is roughly milking and fucking you. You hadn't expected it to jump in roughness so sharply, and you let out a desperate gasp as you press the "Slow down" button in response. Unfortunately, this only seems to speed up the contraption. It now fucks into your insides with painful force and milks you with overwhelming intensity. You fall to your knees, bracing yourself against the bed as your prostate is pounded far more roughly than you intended. In desperation, you press the "Off" button on the remote... and nothing happens. With tears in your eyes and no other options, you press buttons entirely at random. Soon, however, you realise that every single one just speeds up the brutal functions of the machine. You cry out, tears in your eyes, as the dildo smashing its way into your guts begins bulging your stomach with each thrust. Your lower stomach is bruised within a few moments, and soon the force of the device is literally smashing your prostate so hard that involuntary, agonising orgasms are being crush-fucked out of you with each blisteringly fast punch into your bowels. Meanwhile, the sleeve milking you is equally relentless, now operating more like a particularly brutal industrial milker rather than a pleasure device. You're left shakily begging for someone to help you, but the wet slapping of the device rearranging your insides completely eclipses any noise you make. Not that it would matter since you've been fucked far beyond any kind of understandable speech. You brace yourself on the edge of the bed, gripping the sheets and crying out as your ass, dick and balls are violated beyond anything you've ever experienced before. You've been utterly brutalised by the mechanical vampire, and what's worse, you're starting to love it. The device fucks you with the uncaring absence of a machine, never giving you a second to relax or a shred of mercy. Even as the darkness overtakes you, it threatens to pound your poor prostate to dust. You black out, screaming out a final prayer for release, begging the malfunctioning device not to break your body and mind. . . . You come to an unknown number of hours later. Your entire body aches, but in particular, your dick and ass are in utter agony. You doubt an entire building full of horny guys could have fucked you so vigorously. With shaky hands, you undo the straps on the device, gasping as it shudders and speeds up for a moment without warning. No later than it's off you, you toss it to the floor. You feel grateful that the batteries finally died and that you slipped into unconsciousness when you did. You don't doubt that the devious device would have shattered your mind had you remained awake. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>(link-goto: "Sleep it off" , "Ship - Bunks")</td></tr> </table>}

Your client is a shy, polite Lunisian, clad in a lab coat and red-faced as they ask you for your services. Guiding them into a private room, you're quick to undress them. As the fabric of their clothing falls away, you get a better look at them. Their body is lithe and unassuming, betraying the low physical requirements for their occupation. Now naked, you watch as they huff and gasp, working themselves up until their member is fully erect–just because you were watching. With their face flushed a deep crimson, they ask if you would help them with your mouth. Their request is almost pleading, as if they expect you to refuse. Naturally, you're all too happy to oblige them, especially when the shy scientist is such a pleasant change from the other fuck-crazy residents of the planet. When you drop to your knees, he lets out an overwhelmed gasp. You watch as precum trickles from his throbbing cock. He's getting so worked up, and you haven't even done anything yet. You waste no time, a little worried he'll pop his cork before you do anything, and press your snout to the underside of his cock. He smells incredible, and your hot, ragged breaths against his manhood immediately have him leaking like a faucet. He apologises as he leaks a torrent of precum into your hair, although you're too horny to care. Tracing your tongue up his shaft, his leaking tip soon sits against your lips. You take inch by inch of his cock into your mouth, satisfied as the man shudders and moans. He rests one of his hands on the back of your head, shakily guiding you as you take more and more of his throbbing cock into your throat. Although he's practically shaking, barely holding it together, you can tell he's being careful not to force you. Soon, you're slurping at his knot while the majority of his manhood bulges your throat. A combination of his musk, his taste, and the sensation of him throbbing in your throat has you almost painfully erect. His hand twitches now, occasionally gripping your hair and making sure that your lips meet his knot. From how his dick is twitching and flooding your neck with pre, you can tell he's close. You're proven correct almost immediately. Your lover's breaths are uneven now, even shakier than they were when you began. He tries to tell you something, but he's too overwhelmed to form a coherent sentence. In a moment of weakness and obscene amounts of pleasure, his inhibitions falter. He grips your hair, and as his orgasm hits, he yanks your face to the base of his cock. Your eyes roll back in your head as he knots your face with an obscene, wet pop, and you soon feel what must be gallons of his puppy batter pumping down your throat. He must have been so pent up, yet he controlled himself so well... At the thought of the man's desperate attempts to be polite and his no doubt immense temptations to simply ruin your throat, you blow a load of your own up the inside of your jumpsuit. By the time your lover is done emptying his balls down your throat, there are soft little tears on the corners of your eyes. The man panics, using his fingers to dislodge his knot without hurting you, and you're soon taking unimpeded breaths again. He thanks you wholeheartedly for your services and apologises profusely for being so rough. He falls immediately silent, however, when you plant a single, salty kiss against his cheek. You tell him, truthfully, that you adored giving him the intimate attention he deserves. As a fresh redness burns through his cheeks, he pulls on his clothes and prepares to leave. As he goes, you notice that your kiss gave him another erection, and the front of his trousers is already growing damp. Poor guy. You get the feeling you'll be seeing him again very soon. //For a job well done, you earn 20 credits!// --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link: "Tidy up")[(set: $Credits to $Credits + 20)(goto: "Drive centre")]</td> </tr> </table>}

When you meet your client, you're immediately intimidated by their appearance. They tower over you, standing at least half a metre taller. In addition to their height, they also boast impressive musculature. Their clothing is torn, and the rippling muscles beneath are easily seen. The same can be said for their manhood, which threatens to tear through their lower garments at any moment. With a snarl, they grab your wrist and pull you into one of the private rooms. The receptionist offers you nothing but a worried wave as you're pulled along. Hopefully, that was a wave of good luck and not of farewell. Now alone with him, he's quick to remove your clothes and command you to pull away the tattered remains of his own. With each inch of fabric you remove, more of his unnaturally huge body is revealed. His physique is exaggerated to a ludicrous degree, beyond even what you'd expect from a particularly seasoned bodybuilder. When it comes time to remove his underwear, you're beyond aroused to find what lies beneath. He is the owner of the plumpest, fattest sheath you've ever laid eyes on, and below it swings a pair of balls, each one bigger than your head. You wonder if he's gene-modded or perhaps some kind of alien hybrid, but the true cause of his gigantic body soon becomes clear. He fiddles with the Consistency Anchor on his wrist, and you immediately realise that it looks odd–different somehow–the device is bulkier, with additional components and exposed wiring. It almost looks homemade. Upon turning a dial on the device, his entire body begins to ripple with fresh muscle. You remember reading somewhere that Lunisians can become addicted to fluctuations in gravity, something tied deeply to their breeding cycles, and that during rut, they can gain immense muscle mass and virility. If this man's device artificially keeps him in rut, or even boosts him beyond it to levels of arousal completely unknown to his species, you're in for one hell of a rough time. Now tall enough that his ears brush the ceiling, the roided-out man towers over you. His balls are now the size of your torso, and he leers down at you with barely contained ferocity. You feel your heart racing. Hoping to take control of the situation, you willingly approach the man's crotch and press your face to the cleft of his balls. Above you, his unnaturally massive dick grows to full mast, the uncomfortably heavy appendage baring down on your shoulder. You gulp worriedly, kissing and rubbing at him, and convince yourself that you can get through this unusually massive encounter as long as he doesn't stick that monster inside of you. Unfortunately, the towering Lunisian has other plans for you. In an instant, he's gripping you around the waist and lifting you from the floor. He ignores you as you try to talk with him, and soon you feel the tip of his monstrous, precum-gushing cock pressing firmly against your hole. You plead and whine, begging him for mercy, but the man only snarls in response. You can tell immediately that there's nothing left to reason with, the man reduced to nothing but a savage, drooling beast. You cry out as the first few inches of his cock stretch your ring so wide that you think he's going to split you apart. Tears stream down your face as his throbbing meat crams into your guts, and you feel each throb pumping gallons of fluid inside you. He continues, squashing and cramming as much of his manhood inside you as he can, refusing you mercy even as your stomach begins to bulge in the distinct shape of his cock. Soon, his cock is hard and deep enough inside you to support your weight, and he moves his hands to your thighs. You're powerless to resist as he begins using your legs like handles, leveraging brutal, jackhammering thrusts that send his dick deeper and deeper into your abused body each second. When his knot meets your hole, he immediately smashes it inside you with so much force that he almost breaks your pelvis. You've never felt so horrifically full in your life, although you suspect that's about to change- His cock throbs inside you with such ferocity that each gush of cum bulges your middle. Litres of his seed blast up through your insides, effortlessly rounding your stomach until it's reddened, pregnant-looking, and the excess begins pouring up your throat and out your mouth and nose. You gag and choke as you cough up his cum over your chest and silently beg him to stop pumping you so full. By the time his orgasm finally fades, you're completely overwhelmed. You've never taken such a ridiculous volume of cum before, nor have you had your body dominated in such a comically excessive way. It's a miracle you didn't pass out and even more of a miracle that you weren't injured during all the abuse you've endured. Weakly, you look up at the man. You expect him to thank you for taking care of such a massive job... but instead, he just begins fucking you again. . . . Hours later, the room is so flooded with cum that it reaches a third of the way up the walls. Nearly every drop of the man's seed that now floods the room was pumped through you. You can barely think, and you've almost resigned yourself to being kept here forever, constantly, repeatedly fucked until you break. Suddenly, however, the man's Consistency Anchor lets out a high-pitched beep, and he blurts out vulgarities as his body begins returning to "normal". "Great work, fucktoy", he says, growling into your ear. "There ain't many whores that can keep up with me." Despite your best efforts, you're only able to respond with a series of muffled, pathetic little moans. Any words you try to say are drowned beneath the cum at the back of your throat. "Oh. Never mind," he says, withdrawing from your cum-ballooned body. Without another word, he casually throws you aside. You land with a lewd splat, sinking beneath the ocean of cum that fills the room. Luckily, several Drive Centre employees fish you out before you drown. //For your unfortunate inflation, you earn 25 credits!// --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link: "Tidy up")[(set: $Credits to $Credits + 25)(goto: "Drive centre")]</td> </tr> </table>}

Your client is a furious-looking Lunisian engineer clad in a barely intact utility uniform. When they realise you'll be satisfying them, they immediately appear angry. They shove you towards one of the private rooms without so much as speaking a word to you. No later than the door closes behind you both, they grab you from behind. You feel their rock-hard, throbbing cock through both your clothes and can do nothing but gasp when they grind it hard against your plush ass. They unclothe you with a mixture of hunger and desperation, and as soon as you're both naked, they line up their tip with your hole and thrust deep inside you. They're far too rough, and after your requests for mercy go completely ignored, you try to struggle. The man is dozens of times stronger than you, at least, and there's absolutely nothing you can do but brace yourself against a nearby wall as the rude customer smashes their cock into your guts. You gasp and moan, your own half-erect member hanging below you, and let out a pathetic yelp when the man suddenly slaps your ass. For some reason, that drives you wild. You find yourself wiggling your ass at him, even while he's busy fucking hit, and you're rewarded with another open-palmed slap that leaves your left ass-cheek smarting and your cock leaking pre. Soon, you can feel the man's knot slapping wetly against your hole. It feels massive, but you can't help but push back against it. Your silent lover grips your hips and, across a series of half a dozen particularly brutal thrusts, finally manages to cram their knot inside you. You gasp, small tears in your eyes, as the man knots you and smashes another slap off of your rump—and you immediately blow your load up the wall. You can feel him throbbing inside you, emptying those fat balls into your handprint-adorned behind. You swoon as the warmth floods in your tummy but suddenly find yourself buckled over in pain when the man suddenly yanks his knot from your insides. The sudden act of cruelty produces a sound, not unlike a champagne cork, and your legs immediately give out. You fall, head down, ass up, as your muscles give out from the pain, exhaustion and pleasure. "Vulpis scum," the engineer growls out before spitting down into your upturned, gaping, cum-filled ass. "T-thank you..." is all you can whimper out, utterly spent, as you watch the man leave. //For enduring the brutal onslaught, you earn 15 credits!// --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link: "Tidy up")[(set: $Credits to $Credits + 15)(goto: "Drive centre")]</td> </tr> </table>}

(if: $Orca_MetCounter is 1)[{(set: $Orca_MetCounter to it + 1) }As you pilot your submersible through the dark depths, you suddenly spot a massive, solid shape approaching you. Your chest tightens, your heart races, and you hurriedly begin searching the controls for any onboard weapons systems. Unfortunately, you find nothing of the sort. Your craft is an exploratory vessel, nothing more. The dark shape grows closer, silhouette exaggerated by your spotlights, only growing more imposing as it approaches you. It's much larger than your submersible, and you suddenly find yourself clenching your eyes shut, far too afraid to look. Arms thrown up in a pathetic attempt to defend yourself, you await an impact. There's silence for a few terrifying moments, and then... ''Tap tap tap.'' Timidly, you force yourself to unclench your eyes, flinching as you lay eyes on the creature ahead of you. He's a massive Orcidian, an orca-man, who utterly dwarfs your submersible. His entire body is covered in a thick layer of blubber, but somehow you can tell that there are truly monstrous levels of muscle hidden just beneath it. Much to your embarrassment, as you look him up and down, you discover that he's completely naked... and packing a proportionally huge cock as well. Currently, it's flaccid but still about the size of your forearm. "You ok in there, little guy?" he asks after a few uncomfortable moments of silence. His voice is garbled from its journey through the cold ocean and your ship's sub-standard sensors. "I-I'm fine, thank you", you reflexively whimper out, your heart still racing. "Ah, alright!" he bellows, almost loud enough to scramble your sensors. "Oh, um... Just so that you know, pal. Those floodlights of yours are scaring away all the fish. I wanted to let you know before you got in trouble, just in case some of the other folks down here weren't as friendly!" He seems almost embarrassed after warning you. With those final words, he turns, strikes at the water with his powerful tail, and disappears back into the abyss with terrifying speed. The wake generated by this sudden movement sends your submersible tumbling for a few seconds, leaving you disorientated and dizzy. Regaining your composure, you reach over to lower your floodlights... but soon opt for simply returning to shallower waters instead. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Keep exploring" , "Luna - Ocean voyage")</td> <td>(link-goto: "Head back to your ship" , "Luna")</td> </tr> </table>}]{ }(else-if: $Orca_MetCounter is 2)[{(set: $Orca_MetCounter to it + 1)(set: $OrcaIsland_BeenBefore to true) }As you glide through the dark depths of the ocean, you're yet again made aware of a huge, rapidly-approaching shape! You try to change course, but it's no use! Panic setting in, you can do nothing but turn your floodlights towards the rapidly approaching shape. You hold your breath, wracked with worry, but soon discover that you have nothing to worry about. It's the orca man again! "Hey! What'd I tell you about those floodlights!" he yells before his stern demeanour suddenly falls away. "Wait... are you trying to catch fish? Is that why you keep coming back?" You try to tell him that, no, you're not trying to catch fish and that you're just exploring... but he doesn't seem able to hear you. He cocks his head at you, unsure why your words aren't reaching him. He decides before you can convey any more information, to take you somewhere. You're terrified when he suddenly grabs your sub, and you begin to hurtle along, propelled by the gigantic man's powerful movements. As he propels your submersible through the ocean at breakneck speeds, he takes a moment to introduce himself. "I'm Lakó, by the way!" he says with a smile, seemingly oblivious to the fact that you're clinging to your seat for dear life. . . . Soon, he's pushing your sub up onto the shore of a nearby island. At first, you hesitate to leave the safety of the metal sphere but quickly realise it might as well be cardboard to the oversized man. Cautiously, you climb from the top of your craft and hop onto the nearby sand. The orca, who you've come to know as Lakó, stands expectantly ahead of you. Now standing beside him, you can truly appreciate just how huge he is. He's at least three times your height, casting a shadow that completely covers you. Much to your embarrassment, the size disparity leaves your head almost perfectly crotch-level, and you find yourself staring at his sizable manhood. When he notices this and seemingly notices your jumpsuit as well, he excuses himself and hurries off to find some clothes. He returns moments later wearing a clumsily-made grass skirt, which unfortunately fails to cover very much at all. The tip of his cock is still visible, poking out from beneath his new attire. You try to avert your eyes and tell a polite lie when he asks if this new apparel is appropriate. He leads you up the beach to a small hut. It's clearly built for someone of his size, as the interior makes you feel exceptionally small. As you scan the room, Lakó suddenly passes you some fruit. At his insistence, you take a bite. It's good! When you look up at the orca man, obviously enjoying the food he's just given you, you find him smiling. He tells you that he grew that himself, and you find his pride exceptionally endearing. . . . (display: "Orca Island")]{ }(else:)[{ }As you glide through the undersea depths, you notice a solid shape approaching you. Where once you would have felt fear at such a thing, you already know who is approaching. You turn your submersible, illuminating the approaching creature, and your suspicions are confirmed. His huge, soft, black and white body illuminated by the powerful floodlights, you recognise him as Lakó! "Hey!" he yells, voice garbled through the ocean and your sub's failing sensors. "How many times do I gotta tell you to stop scaring the fish?" He says that playfully. He knows that without your floodlights, you'd be utterly helpless. "H-hey... you should visit me soon, ok?" he suddenly says, his demeanour growing far softer than before. He cuts through the algae that's clinging to the outside of your viewport, leaving behind a large loveheart-shaped area where you can see far better than before. His face now crimson, he suddenly disappears back into the gloom. The wake of his sudden movement upsets your sensors for a few moments. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Keep exploring" , "Luna - Ocean voyage")</td> <td>(link-goto: "Head back to your ship" , "Luna")</td> </tr> </table>}]

As your submersible speeds along through the silent, deep sea, you can't help but shake the feeling that you're being watched. You peer out into the dark, soon noticing through the gloom that multiple solid shapes are circling your vessel. Immediately, you recognise the behaviour. Your heart races as you realise what these creatures are... Sharks. Or, perhaps just a distant cousin. You turn on your floodlights and soon reveal a group of Selachs, ocean-dwelling shark-men with a reputation as pirates and salvagers of ancient long-lost ships. Illuminated by your floodlights, you can make out at least three of them. They're all remarkably muscular from the swimming their lifestyle necessitates, and each is covered in a myriad of scars and fresh cuts. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Scare them off->Shark battle]]</td> <td>[[Ignore them->Terrarium bad end]]</td> </tr> </table>}

(set: $KnowAbout_LunaSeaLab to true)As you explore the oceans of Luna, you notice a strange reading on one of your displays. A few hundred metres below you, there appears to be a structure of some kind. It's relaying a distress signal, but it's faint. The broadcast is also set to loop... there's no telling how long it's been transmitting or if anyone's still there. //You can now visit the 'Sea Lab' from the Luna expeditions page.// --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Re-plan your expedition" , "Luna")</td> <td>(link-goto: "Explore the sea lab" , "Luna - Sea lab")</td> </tr> </table> }

{  (if: $LunaWarehouse_BeenBefore is false)[ (set: $LunaWarehouse_BeenBefore to true) (goto: "Warehouse first visit")] (else:)[(goto: "Warehouse return visit")]}

As you drive through the wildlands, zig-zagging to avoid chunks of lunar debris and discarded salvage, you suddenly notice a light flashing on your buggy's dashboard. Upon closer inspection, it seems to be a transmission of some kind. The encryption is unknown to you and appears almost impossible to break, but the transmitter must be nearby. Fifteen minutes later, you've followed the signal to its source. You've pulled up to the perimeter of a large, heavily fortified warehouse. Guards eye you suspiciously as you approach, fingers brushing the triggers of their rifles. Worry stirs in your heart as one of the men approaches your buggy. "Halt!" they bark at you. "State your business or leave the area immediately." "I'm just exploring. This place came up on my sensors, and I wanted to see what it was." you truthfully respond. "That's none of your concern." the guard coldly responds, poised to raise his rifle at any moment. "Leave." You decide you shouldn't push your luck any further and immediately leave the area. //Should you return, you decide to approach more stealthily.// --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Head back" , "Get in your buggy")</td> </tr> </table>}

Despite previous warnings, you return to the warehouse perimeter. This time, however, you make a serious attempt to remain undetected. As you near the fence, having ditched your buggy in favour of crawling on your belly, your plan appears to have worked. Now crouching on the other side of a security fence around the back of the building, you can spot a few ways you might sneak inside. ... Unfortunately, you can now see just how much security is patrolling the area. Dozens of guards are reinforced by roaming, wolf-like quadrupedal androids. It's certainly risky, but if you choose your next moves wisely, you might make it inside. What do you do? --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Sneak past the guards->Sneak by guards]]</td> <td>[[Climb the fence->Hop the fence]]</td> </tr> </table>}

{  (if: $Experienced_BadEnd_LunaGuards is false)[ (set: $Experienced_BadEnd_LunaGuards to true) (goto: "Guards bad-end")] (else:)[(goto: "Guards - Avoid")]}

{  (if: $Experienced_BadEnd_DWNGRDR is false)[ (set: $Experienced_BadEnd_DWNGRDR to true) (goto: "DWN-GRDR bad-end")] (else:)[(goto: "DWNGRDR - Avoid")]}

You decide to hop the fence, finding that it's deceptively easy to climb. You're feeling victorious as you clamber over the top... until a pair of lights on either side of you flash bright red. In an instant, the fence becomes electrified. You gasp and tense up, collapsing over the fence and landing in a bruised, lightly-smoking heap. "O-ow", you whimper out, pinching a smouldering patch of your fur. It's only then that you realise you're being watched. Turning slowly, you come face to face with one of the quadrupedal security bots. You freeze, wondering if you should reach for your gun. You're filled with terror as the android scans you. When the scan finishes a few moments later, you're horrified as the android begins to speak, its robotic words crackling through some kind of speech-synthesis device. ''Intruder threat level: Minimal'' ''Threat to operations: Moderate'' ''Suggested action: Downgrade threat'' "D-downgrade?" you cough out, still stunned from your fall and the painful electrocution that preceded it. Suddenly, the wolf-android lunges at you. In a flurry of programmatically-perfect slashes, it cuts your jumpsuit from your body. As you feel the hot air against your fur, you're roughly pushed onto your stomach, and the android climbs atop you. You whimper and whine as the android's pseudo-cock pushes inside you, instantly modifying its shape so that it's uncomfortably large inside you. A rapidly inflating knot ensures that your chances of escape are now zero. Stretched to your limit, you're surprised when the android hangs motionless above you. Maybe it only intends to hold you here on its knot until some of the guards show u— //ZAP!// You tense up as a massive burst of electricity tears through you, the entirety of the charge centred on your prostate. In an instant, you empty the contents of your balls into the dirt without even getting hard. Your mouth hangs open in a silent scream as your muscles ache, and you feel the underside of the android's cock reconfiguring, more electrodes sliding beneath its synth skin, now poised to deliver even more potent shocks than the one you just endured. As you weakly struggle to free yourself from the guard dog's electroshock-inducing knot, you're horrified when a pair of tendrils snake down from the android's back, planting themselves on both of your temples. ''Action: DOWNGRADING'' You beg for mercy but are silenced when another shock tears through you. This time, your mind goes completely blank as you orgasm. You're aware only of the intense pain saturated with undeniable, forced pleasure. Your cock twitches as it reaches an unnatural, electrically-forced erection. ''Action: DOWNGRADING'' You open your mouth to beg, but you've forgotten how to speak. Your stomach and front feel pleasantly warm, but you're not sure why. In reality, you've cum so much that you now lie in a puddle of your own seed. ''Action: DOWNGRADING'' Your cognition is reduced to what you can feel. The pain has turned to pleasure now, not that you can tell the difference. Everything feels dull and distant—without context—and the only sensation you now register is... ''Action: DOWNGRADING'' The last of your memories are long gone now. Your mission, your home, and even your name. Aside from your core bodily functions, you've been reduced to a husk of your former self. . . . When one of the guards finds you hours later, mouth agape, twitching and braindead beneath the canine android, he decides that they can keep you. This body will spend the rest of its days as a glorified chew toy for the loyal cyber hound, twitching, cumming, and completely empty-headed. A copy of your ego is transmitted back to your ship, where your AI laments over having to perform such an intensive data restoration. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Zap!" , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table> (display: "Image : MindBreak")}

You try to sneak past the guards, keeping out of sight and creeping past one of the entrance points. Unfortunately, you make it no less than two metres past the fence when you hear the sounds of safeties being engaged and turn slowly to the source of the clicks. Standing ahead of you are two guards, rifles trained on you. "U-uh... hi?" you whimper out, hoping they'll take mercy on you. Without responding, you're immediately subdued. Muscular hands tear away your weaponry and clothing, also taking every opportunity to grope at you as well. "DreadKnot's gonna obliterate this one", the guard carrying you chuckles, much to the agreement of the second man. Thrown over the shoulder of one of the guards, you're marched into the building, even as you struggle and protest. Even if you've been so swiftly defeated, this is a great opportunity to see the inside of the warehouse. You're marched beyond an indoor security checkpoint and then through an expansive manufacturing area. When your eyes linger on a piece of equipment for too long, one of the guards holds a deactivated shock prod beneath your chin, threatening you if you try anything. Watched closely by the two guards, you're carried through a second area—breeding stalls—and realise, to your horror, that this is where intruders are kept. There are dozens of occupied stalls, each with begging, fucked-silly occupants. As you pass by some of them, you're horrified to see how much they're gaping, something you can only attribute to months of being knot-fucked by the guards... something that you, too, will soon endure. Eventually, you arrive at your final destination. A guard knocks on the armoured door of another security station, and the door soon swings open, revealing a man that you immediately know is the head guard. You estimate him to be at least 8 feet tall. He's ridiculously muscular, to the point that his guard's uniform looks as if it's going to tear open at any moment. He looks so powerful that you immediately assume he's gene-modded or perhaps has well-hidden cybernetics. At his crotch, the sizable bulge indicates he's similarly gifted in the intimate department. When he spots you, a wide grin spreads across his face. He's undressing you with his eyes, and you're left red-faced as you watch his bulge become more pronounced. "Leave him to me." the DreadKnot utters, waving away the other guards. "By the time I'm done with this shrimp, he'll never walk right again." The guards throw you to the floor, salute their leader, and promptly leave. Your heart immediately races as you feel the aura the much larger man projects. He unzips the lower half of his security uniform, and you're left salivating as his bulge immediately spills out. The thin fabric obscuring his manhood appears darkened and damp, but whether from sweat or precum is difficult to discern. "Lick," he commands, baring his fangs when you hesitate. With no other choice, you draw closer, pressing your snout to his bulge. His masculine scent immediately overwhelms you, and you're soon hefting his heavy bulge and licking at it unashamedly. He lets out a contented sigh, his erection growing, and soon you're kissing at his throbbing manhood instead. "Suck," he suddenly commands. Unfortunately, you hesitate for a moment too long, and yelp as the colossal guard grabs your hair. You have only a moment to plead before his tip pushes past your lips, and you're gagging around his gigantic member as it bulges out your throat. With tears in your eyes, you look up at the man as he begins fucking your throat. "Shouldn't trespassed, slut. We're only getting started." he quips, pulling your face to his crotch with such force that your nose squashes the soft flesh of his sheath. Soon, he's facefucking you with such roughness that you're worried about him breaking your nose. Your eyes roll back when he suddenly pumps cum down your throat before withdrawing and drenching your body in gallons of his seed. You're left gasping and moaning, your throat sore. He sighs huskily, but you're worried when he regains his composure almost immediately. He turns his gaze down to you with a hungry grin on his face. With complete ease, he hoists you onto his lap. You brace yourself reflexively against his chiselled body, only to yelp as you feel his tip prodding your hole. "Try to remain conscious," he commands, and you gulp as you realise what's about to happen. He grips your hips and pushes you down suddenly, watching with sadistic glee as you yelp and gasp, forced to endure his entire cock squashing into you in a single movement. He grits his teeth, content with your tightness, yet wastes no time making sure you'll never be tight again. He bounces you on his lap for what feels like hours, blowing countless loads in your bowels and punishing you for every minuscule act of defiance. Barely conscious, you're only vaguely aware of your surroundings as the DreadKnot carries you to one of the breeding stalls. You're bound securely, ensuring that escape is impossible. . . . Weeks later, you're completely broken and addicted to the guards' knots. You can tell them apart by size alone, although after the DreadKnot takes a particular liking to you, the rest of the guards find that you're too loose to pleasure them. When you beg especially desperately, however, sometimes the guards give you a pity facefuck instead. Your black box activates, abandoning this version of you to their fate. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Stretch and break" , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table>}

You throw yourself behind some crates as a pair of scientists leave the lab, but you're relieved when you hear them talking about lunch. If you wanted to skulk around and see what they're up to, now's a perfect time. Slipping into the laboratory, you're quick to rifle through all of the documents and designs strewn around the room. What you find is concerning, to say the least. At first glance, it looks like... a railgun of some kind. The scale, however, puts the device at almost a kilometre in length. There's no mention of electromagnetism either, in fact... Your eyes go wide. There's no way you read that right. There are mentions of exotic matter here, spacial warping, like in the warp drives of spaceships. It becomes clear that what you're looking at is a mass driver, a device for displacing large spacecraft tremendous distances. These designs, if they worked, would revolutionise the galaxy. You can understand now why the guards were so upset with you suddenly showing up. On a nearby desk, a final document discusses the acquisition of the blueprint for the mass driver, and you're deeply confused to find that it was intercepted during a Vulpis military data exchange. You had no idea that your people had this kind of technology, unless... Suddenly, you hear the scientists from before returning. You scramble out a nearby door and make a hasty retreat, soon diving back into the driver's seat of your buggy. As you tear out into the wildlands, kicking up a plume of dirt as you go, plasma shots dart past you, and a few even damage sections of your ride. Ultimately though, you escape, and you do so having learned a new secret. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Escape!" , "Luna - Wildlands journey")</td> </tr> </table>}

You turn your attention towards the rolling wildlands ahead of you, which are far too dangerous to navigate on foot. Tapping at your communicator, you request a buggy deployment, and soon your ship hovers overhead. A compartment opens, and a flimsy-looking buggy is lowered down to the ground. You climb inside the buggy as your ship leaves, and you're pleased to find that the electronics work and the fuel tank is full. Time for an adventure! --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Look for signals->Grav-tech warehouse]]</td> <td>[[Hunt for artefacts->Find Meteor]]</td> <td>[[Drive aimlessly->Procyon caravan]]</td> </tr> <tr> <td></td> <td>(link-goto: "Head back" , "Luna - Wildlands journey")</td> <td></td> </tr> </table>}

You wait for the fence's electrical cycle to pass before quickly scrambling over it. You land with far more dignity than before and begin your journey into the building. As you pass by what appears to be some kennels, you're left red-faced when you realise that one of them is leaking. Cautiously, you manage to catch a glimpse of the debauchery within. It's one of your past selves, still knotted by the quadrupedal robot that defeated them, currently being fucked by multiple members of the pack. It would appear that having neutralised you as a threat, the android hounds are now allowed to mate with your past self in earnest. Knowing there's nothing left to save, you abandon them to their fate. With the guard dogs distracted, you find it easy to sneak into the building and soon arrive at a laboratory of some kind. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Enter the lab" , "GT: Discover a secret")</td> </tr> </table> }

You find your attempts to sneak past the guards far more successful this time, mainly because there seems to be far fewer of them. As you enter the main warehouse, you're surprised to find the same absence of guards. In the distance, however, you can hear the sounds of cheering... and a wet slapping sound that you faintly recognise. Approaching the sounds, you're horrified to find your past self locked in stocks; their mouth and ass are both stretched painfully wide by a pair of knotted cocks. A queue snakes from the entrance of the room all the way to your abused former self. With no chance against dozens of exceedingly horny and very heavily armed guards, you decide to leave them to their fate. Avoiding a few additional guards and the many cameras throughout the facility, with surprising ease, you find your way to a research lab. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Enter the lab" , "GT: Discover a secret")</td> </tr> </table> }

You return to the cultist's perpetual orgy, immediately stripping off your jumpsuit and sliding down towards the sea of naked, moaning bodies. Their revelry grows in magnitude as they spot you, interpreting your arrival as yet another reward from their slumbering God. They welcome you with open arms. You're soon balls deep in one of your former selves while another clone pounds your ass from behind. Every other hole between the three of you is stuffed full by the fervent cultists. As your orgasm hits and you, in turn, feel cum pouring into you, you immediately decide to spend the rest of your life with the cult. You've had multiple lifetimes to experience the cult's boon, and you want more... . . . You and your clones become the bedrock for the largest orgy that Luna has ever seen, including Fourth Moon events. Around the impacted remains of their dead moon, thousands of Lunisians make love to versions of you, each other or masturbate feverishly watching your duplicates make love with one another. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Gasp and moan" , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table>}

As your submersible glides through the gloomy depths, skirting the peaks of sea mounts and volcanic vents, kicking up a trail of silt as you travel, you suddenly spot something shimmering in the distance. Drawing closer, your excitement builds. This is no natural light show. Instead, the shimmering you see is the halo of a tremendous underwater city. You consult your codex, but the city appears in no historical records available to you. Skirting the edge of the city, its structure visible beneath a megalithic, transparent dome, you can see that it's still very much inhabited. Sprawling, green gardens are integrated with utilitarian architecture. Sentient species, both marine and terrestrial, seem to live together here. You're sure you can even spot a Vulpis or two. Suddenly, you hear impacts against your hull. You assume a barrage—a volley of projectiles designed to disable or kill you outright—but soon discover that it's not the case. Further creaks and clanging from outside indicate that something, or someone, is climbing across your hull. Your suspicions are confirmed when a shark man, clad in flowing golden armour, clambers across the front of your submersible. He's soon flanked by several other men, all wearing the same sets of armour. Aiming a fearsome-looking trident at your cockpit window, one of the armour-clad shark men begins directing you towards a specific part of the city. You travel through a well-lit deep sea corridor for some time before surfacing in a moon pool. You brace yourself, pushing open the hatch at the top of your submersible, and are immediately grabbed. With tridents and spears pointed at you, you remain still while other men strip away your gear, weapons and, unfortunately, your clothes as well. (display:"Throne room - First visit"){ }

Confined in the centre of a group of armour-clad guards, you're marched through the city. For reasons unknown, none of the populace seems particularly fazed by this, and it makes you wonder if all visitors get a similar treatment. You're led up some steps, up to a palace, through beautiful corridors of sculpted stone and lush flora, and soon find yourself standing in a throne room. Ahead of you, a large Selach woman is sitting. On either side of her throne, a multitude of men are sitting, all glad in thin, transparent silks. Some are wearing cages, others have their ankles or wrists bound, but all seem endlessly infatuated with the woman sitting nearby. "My Queen!" one of the guards suddenly booms, making you flinch. "We caught this Vulpis on the city outskirts. They appear to be alone." "How interesting..." she says, looking you up and down. There's hunger on her face, and she seems particularly interested in you when you move to cover yourself. You estimate the Queen to stand about seven feet tall. She's flashing you a toothy, playful smile and holding off on addressing you until you've had a good look at her. In stark contrast to other Selachs you've encountered in the past, she bears no scars, and instead of rough shark hide, her skin appears plush and soft. Your mind immediately wanders, imagining pressing your hands to her ample breasts or sinking your face between powerful-looking thighs. Between her legs, you spot another difference between the monarch and her brethren. Where almost all Selachs have a duo of pointed cocks, she instead has a single, uncut, humanoid one. Gene-modding is apparent in her appearance and sexual equipment, and you assume that she originally had a duo of cocks, which were then combined into a single, particularly thick one. Her throne is backed by an artificial waterfall that sends rivulets of seawater across her naked body. You watch as droplets drip on her voluptuous breasts, down across her thighs, and even across the impressive cock between her legs. "Why are you here?" she finally asks, and you can hear the guards bristling in preparation for your answer. "I was just exploring. I got too close, and your guards brought me here." you truthfully respond. "Exploring on whose behalf?" she asks, slightly more aggressively. She grips the arms of her throne with visible worry. "My own. I was banished from my homeworld some time ago," you answer. The Queen turns to one of the men lying nearby, an Ailurian, a species resembling a Terran red panda known for being excellent lie detectors. "They're telling the truth. They're even a little sad about it," the Ailurian says, betraying not only your honesty but your feelings as well. The Queen's demeanour softens, and their expression even begins to radiate soft, sad compassion towards you. "Guards, leave us," she says, and they obey immediately. "We're all outcasts here, Vulpis. You're among friends." --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Talk" , "Queen Sam - Talk")</td> </tr> </table> }

You chart a course to Nova Poseidonis, and after a while, gliding through the gloomy depths, you eventually spot the familiar lights of the city. When you reach the city outskirts, you're met by a number of guards. They ready their weapons for a moment before recognising you. They guide you to a moon pool and help you from your submersible. (display:"Throne room - Return"){ }

{  (if: $NovaPoseidonis_BeenBefore is false)[(set: $NovaPoseidonis_BeenBefore to true)(goto:"Nova Poseidonis - Discovery")] (else:)[(goto:"Nova Poseidonis - Return")]}

{(set: $Event to (random:1,3)) }The guards escort you through the city and back into the Queen's throne room. She's delighted to see you again, flashing you a sharp, toothy grin that comes across as friendly, if a little terrifying. (if: $Event is 1)["Welcome back to the city of Nova Poseidonis, my friend," she says, greeting you warmly. "How can I be of service?" "I uh..." you begin, only to be interrupted. "Or perhaps //you're// here to provide //me// service?" she teases, grinning as your gaze involuntarily falls to her crotch. You open your mouth, your face flushed scarlet, hurrying to respond in the negative. "Now, now, I was only teasing," she interjects. "For now".]{ }(if: $Event is 2)["Welcome back to the city, friend," she says, waving away the guards. "How're your adventures going?" "Well... uh..." you begin, thinking about all of the lewd situations you've gotten into. "Oh!" she suddenly blurts out. "You're one of //those// adventurers." There's an uncomfortable pause, and she licks her lips. "Well..." she starts. "You're lucky that those types of adventurers are my favourite". You're left red-faced while she waits for you to respond.]{ }(else:)["Aw, miss me?" the Queen coos as you, as teasing as can be. "W-well, I-" you begin, not sure why you're getting so flustered right off the bat. When you fall silent, she grins at you. "Just teasing, friend," she assures you. "For now..."] --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Talk" , "Queen Sam - Talk")</td> </tr> </table> }

{(set: $ChoiceList to (a:"Normal", "Normal 2")) (if: $NovaPoseidonis_JoinedHaremCount is not 0)[(set: $Choicelist to it + (a: "Harem"))] (if: $Experienced_BadEnd_SharkTF is true)[(set: $ChoiceList to it + (a: "Shark TF"))] (set:$Choice to (either:...$ChoiceList)) }(if: $Choice is "Normal")[As the Queen waits for you to speak, there's a sudden whining from beside her throne. Without looking, she snaps her fingers, and a lanky Lunisian shyly stands and approaches her. They're far taller than most, and you recognise them as a Spacer Lunisian—A Lunisian raised off of their homeworld and the high gravity there. As they move, you spot a tiny chastity cage enclosing their crotch. It looks far too small to be comfortable, and with each ragged breath, they're leaking through it. "That desperate, huh?" she asks them once they've standing directly ahead of her. The lithe Lunisian nods furiously, whining and begging with such desperation that you can barely make out the words. "Fine, take a seat", she teases, spreading her legs and allowing her already erect cock to spring up from between her thighs. The Spacer Lunisian immediately straddles her lap and lowers themselves on her cock. The Queen bites her lip as the obedient maned wolf manages to take her cock right to the hilt with expert skill. As he begins to bounce and whine, the Queen turns her attention back to you.]{ }(else-if: $Choice is "Normal 2")[As the Queen waits for you to speak, she suddenly snaps her fingers. An Ailurian immediately hurries over and sits ahead of her. She spreads her legs and allows her erect, girthy cock to flip up from between her thighs. The Ailurian immediately squashes her length between their plush hand paws and begins giving her an enthusiastic handjob. You're left red-faced as, whenever the Queen moans, the red panda jerking her off shudders and gasps. You remember from your codex that Ailurians duplicate the pleasure of their sexual partners and realise that what you're watching is far more obscene than it appears.]{ }(else-if: $Choice is "Harem")[(if: $NovaPoseidonis_JoinedHaremCount is 1)[As she waits for you to speak, she suddenly spreads her legs and lets out a sharp whistle. Within a few seconds, one of your past selves has hurried from amongst her harem and planted their head between her thighs. As their head rises and falls, loud, wet slaps ring out through the throne room. They didn't even acknowledge you, not for a second—it wasn't part of the command.]{ }(else:)[As she waits for you to speak, she suddenly spreads her legs and lets out a series of sharp whistles. Within a few moments, a duo of your past selves have hurried over and planted their faces between her legs. You watch as they take turns kissing, licking, and sucking at her cock. They completely ignore you, totally transfixed by their Queen.]]{ }(else-if: $Choice is "Shark TF")[As you approach the throne, you spot a shark girl kneeling, pressing themselves to the Queen's leg. At first, it looks as if She's resting her head on the Queen's thigh, but you quickly realise she's desperately huffing her Monarch's musk. Their stomach is rounded, showing obvious evidence of a pregnancy, and their entire body is covered in bite marks, both fresh and faded.] --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Ask about her->Talk with Queen - Her]]</td> <td>[[Ask about the city->Talk with Queen - The city]]</td> <td>[[Ask about harem->Talk with Queen - Harem]]</td> </tr> <tr> <td>[[Sex - Oral->Queen Sam - Oral]](if: $ContentWarnings is "High")[ 😵 ]</td> <td>[[Sex - Anal->Queen Sam - Anal]]</td> <td>[[Stare->Queen Sam - TF offer]]</td> </tr> <tr> <td>(if: $NovaPoseidonis_JoinedHaremCount is 0)[( ? ? ? )](else:)[ [[Sex - Harem->Queen Sam - Harem sex]] ]</td> <td>[[Join harem->Queen Sam - Join harem]]</td> <td>(link-goto: "Leave" , "Luna")</td> </tr> </table>}

"How'd you get a harem down here?" you ask, confused about how such a varied collection of men have made it to the bottom of the ocean. "A "Harem"? I suppose you could call them that... but I prefer to call them my Princesses", she responds, shining the men on either side of her throne an affectionate smile. "Each of them has dedicated their lives to me and to our city, and I adore each of them for it." "But..." you continue ", How'd they get down here?" "My Princesses come from all over the galaxy. Most are explorers, outcasts, or former slaves. When they stumble across the city, or I hear that they are nearby, I offer them a place in my city... or by my side." As if to narrate her final point, she reaches over and ruffles the hair of a nearby man, who immediately blushes and whines, their tail loudly swatting the floor as they receive their royal scritches. She snaps her fingers, and two "Princesses" stand to attention. They're a Spacer Lunisian and Ailurian, respectively, and both wait expectantly with their faces flushed red. The Spacer Lunisian is caged and constantly leaking. When your gaze flitters between his crimson-hued face and the cage tightly clamped around his manhood, he lets out a particularly pathetic whine. The Ailurian's throbbing erection is visible beneath the transparent silk of their clothing. They're pressing their oversized paws together expectantly, awaiting the Queen's instructions. "Girls, give our guest a spin, won't you?" the Queen asks, sinking in the sights of her lovers' bodies. You get the feeling that her request is as much for her as it is for you. Both men spin seductively, lingering at certain points just long enough for you to grow enticed by their features before turning and denying you any kind of prize. When they're done, they turn back to their Queen, who you're embarrassed to find has been watching you for some time. She winks, knowing that you find her lovers as sexy as she does. "Now, you cuties have some jobs to do, don't you?" she asks her lovers, and both men look nervously at one another. She motions for the two men to approach her and rewards them both with a passionate kiss. They hesitate for a moment as if they don't want to leave her side before reluctantly heading off to attend to other duties. "Isn't it distracting to have so many..." you trail off, embarrassed. "So many attractive men, I mean..." She smiles as you compliment her lovers. "They're not just eye candy, cutie. That was my military advisor and spymaster, respectively. You'd be surprised how well cute boys perform when they're sufficiently motivated." "O-oh..." you find yourself mumbling out. "I wonder what jobs /you/ could perform for me..." she teases, winking at you. "Assuming you were sufficiently "motivated", of course..." Redness flushes in your cheeks as you scramble to change the subject. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Ask about something else" , "Queen Sam - Talk")</td> </tr> </table>}

"What can you tell me about the city and its history," you ask. "Nova Poseidonis was founded approximately ten years ago, in the hopes of returning to the Selachian golden age that ended with 'The Fall' a hundred years ago." Her gaze turns downwards, and she continues with considerable sadness. "The old city was struck directly by falling lunar debris and utterly destroyed. With our old leadership dead, most of the old populace perish or turned to inscrutable means to survive." "I'm sorry..." you tell her, saddened to have found another horrible outcome of your ancestors' actions. She composes herself, appearing more resolute and hopeful. "The new city was built by the descendants of the old city's engineers and royals, who refused to let our old ways die and passed on their knowledge to their children. Now, Nova Poseidonis rivals the old city in technology, albeit is far smaller, and is far more progressive than the old city ever could have been." "Once the city was sufficiently inhabitable, we held our first set of elections. There were many ideas, but in the end, progressive, forward-thinking peace and free love won out, and I became the representative." She reclines in her chair, letting out a relieved sigh, "And now we're a sex-positive deep sea utopia, and the populace are so happy that they call me "Queen". I guess we did pretty well for the remnants of a dead empire, huh?" --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Ask about something else" , "Queen Sam - Talk")</td> </tr> </table>}

You decide to ask the Queen about herself and what it's like being the monarch. "Oh, I'm not a real Queen," she states bluntly, much to your surprise. "I'm the democratically elected leader of the city." "So why do people call you "Queen"?" you ask, a little confused. She speaks casually but with evident pride. "When I came to power, I made many changes that benefitted even more people. I've never been big on tradition or pre-fall beliefs, so I've allowed the needs of the citizenry to define our actions. People liked it a lot when someone actually started solving their problems, and eventually, the title of "Queen" just kind of... happened." "How long have you been in charge?" you ask. "A few years now. Not particularly long, mind you." she pauses for a few moments before gesturing to her harem. "I've had a lot of help during that time. My "Princesses" may look cute, but they're some of my best advisors." You pause for a few moments before turning to a more personal question. "Is there anything I should know about you in particular? Y'know... in case we get... closer." She grins at you, licking her lips. "I emit pheromones through my skin, but they're not very strong", she admits. "You'd have to lick me or get a really good taste to be affected... but you're not planning on that, right?" "N-no", you stammer out before you have a chance to decide if your words are true or false. "Oh, and one last thing", she starts, "I think you're cute." You tense up involuntarily, your face flushing red. Despite your efforts to shake off her sudden teasing, you're left speechless while the toothy monarch grins at you. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Ask about something else" , "Queen Sam - Talk")</td> </tr> </table>}

{    (if: $NovaPoseidonis_JoinedHaremCount is 0)[(set: $NovaPoseidonis_JoinedHaremCount to it + 1)(goto:"Queen Sam - Join harem 1")] (else-if: $NovaPoseidonis_JoinedHaremCount is 1)[(set: $NovaPoseidonis_JoinedHaremCount to it + 1)(goto:"Queen Sam - Join harem 2")] (else:)[(goto:"Queen Sam - Harem full")]}

You ask the overly-affectionate monarch if you could join her harem, and she immediately accepts. "Oh! You know, you and my latest Princess would make a very convincing pair of twins!" she licks her lips, obviously fantasising about some symmetrical debauchery. You let out a worried laugh, realising that you neglected to tell her that you're a clone. With a snap of her fingers, her Ailurian lover rises from among her harem and makes his way over. They guide your face down to the shark woman's heavy balls, commanding you to worship her. You do so completely unthinkingly. The Ailurian immediately entombs the Queen's throbbing cock between their plush paws, and she's immediately letting out soft moans. You kiss, lap, and eventually suck at your new mistress' balls. Precum leaks down her length, lubricating the motions of the red panda's soft paws as they expertly coax the monarch to orgasm. "Go ahead, sweetheart..." she suddenly coos down at the Ailurian, who immediately tenses up and blows a load across the throne room floor. You understand after a few moments that the monarch has allowed the loyal slut to access the Queen's pleasure psionically, and you're confusedly aroused when, when you suck at her balls particularly hard, the Ailurian moans as well. Before long, there's an explosion of alabaster between the red panda's oversized paws, and both the Queen and her psionic lover practically scream with pleasure. The Ailurian falls against the throne, huffing and gasping, absolutely spent. Slumped back on her throne, whispering soft gratitudes to nobody in particular, the Queen is equally satisfied. Suddenly, she motions to the red panda's cum-drenched paws and winks at you. "Take care of those, won't you, Princess?" she asks, voice soft as silk. You immediately grip the Ailurian's overly-sensitive paws and lick at them with reckless abandon. He shudders and gasps, begging you to keep going and soon blowing a second load across the room. As their orgasm builds, you experience a sudden burst of pleasure and find yourself sputtering ropes across the throne room floor as well. When you pull away from the red panda's saliva-drenched palm, you're surprised to find them looking at you with panicked concern. "Report." the Queen commands, having immediately picked up on their subordinate's unease. Her voice is authoritative, a far cry from the gentle teasing you've come to expect. "This guy, it's not that they look like your other Princess. They're the same person!" he gasps out. "W-what?" she blurts out, turning to look at your past self, still sitting among her other Princesses. They have a knowing, guilty look on their face. "This one-" he motions to you as you try to stammer out an explanation. "-They're a clone of the Princess. Both of them know it. They have a device in their head that transmits their memories... to a new copy... whenever they can't, or choose not to, complete their mission." "You told me they're not an enemy. Correct?" she snaps, obviously anxious about you, and the Ailurian lets out a sudden, worried gasp. "They're not! They're a clone, an almost perfect copy, but it's done against their will. They were banished from their homeworld to delay some awful calamity." the Ailurian hurriedly explains, and the Queen slumps back in her chair. "Jesus... you're... you're just cannon fodder to them, aren't you?" she mumbles, looking at you with abject pity. "You, at least, these two versions of you, can stay here. We'll figure out how to free you if we can." "Thank you..." you whimper out, just glad she didn't eject you from the city. "So, you've pledged yourself to me..." she starts. "How long before your device--" --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Be torn away" , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table>}

Having pleasured the Queen and felt the weight of her praise, you can't resist her any longer. You want to be her servant, her "Princess", and exchange all kinds of affections. When you blurt out your feelings, red-faced, she doesn't seem surprised at all. "I was wondering how long before you'd ask," she teases, licking her lips. "Consider yourself accepted." With a snap of her fingers, she motions for you and her Spacer Lunisian to sit between her legs. Without so much as a word, you're both lapping at and kissing her fat cock, moaning and gasping as her taste overwhelms your senses. At regular intervals, the Lunisian adjusts your efforts. He's spent so long pleasuring the Queen that he knows exactly what she likes, and now you're her "Princess"; you're expected to learn it all. He guides your kisses to her favourite, most sensitive spots and teaches you the best way to throat her thick member. By the end of your lesson, you've committed most of the monarch's favourite little extras to memory, and your choice of a life of servitude has been thoroughly reinforced. The Lunisian pulls you away from her cock all of a sudden, and you slur out in confusion when they pry open your maw. A moment later, the Queen tenses up, spurting gallons of cum over you both. Thanks to your teacher's guidance, the majority lands in your waiting maw, and you gulp it down with intense gratitude. In the afterglow of her orgasm, your new mistress has nothing but praise for you both. When she scritches under the chin of your fellow "Princess", they melt immediately into a pathetic mess of whimpering and whining. You're immediately taken by surprise, however, when she does the same to you, and you produce the exact same response. "Please show the latest Princess to her quarters and brief her on her duties, would you?" she asks the still whining Lunisian, who nods furiously. You follow them through a side door, where the start of your new life awaits. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Serve your Queen" , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table>}

You ask to join the Queen's harem again, only to fall heartbroken when she sadly declines. "I'm sorry, sweetheart," she says, with evident regret in her voice. "Whenever you become a Princess, a new version of you is born. One that knows the delights of service to me and my kingdom but is denied it. I refuse to perpetuate such cruelty, especially to someone I love." "B-but", you desperately begin, but she silences you with a raised hand. "You have my word that your former selves will be treated as royalty here, even if I cannot offer the same to any more of you," she promises, and you believe her. "We've begun studying the "Black box" that each of you possesses, but... it's too advanced for us... at least for the time being. If we find a way to free you, we'll contact you immediately." There's silence. You're not sure how to respond. You feel hurt, especially having been denied the chance to serve her, remembering how good it felt from the imprinted memories of a prior self. You feel utterly defeated, at least until the Queen talks again. "Despite the fact that I cannot offer you another place among my Princesses, you are free to serve me at your own leisure," she says, and your heart races. "Whenever you need a lover, one who knows the struggles of your journey, please think of me. I will always be happy to indulge you." It's a bittersweet exchange, but you feel lucky that you will still be able to serve her, even if you cannot do so as a Princess. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Ask about something else" , "Queen Sam - Talk")</td> </tr> </table>}

You choose the Spacer Lunisian. They're a tall, lithe man wearing a chastity cage. When you express that you'd like to have your way with them, they're immediately whining softly, staring at you with utter desperation. "Ah! A fine choice," the Queen smiles. You can be as rough as you like with that one. Grip their hair, slap their ass, call them names... they adore it all." As she tells you this, the Lunisian lets out a prolonged whine. "And one last thing", the Selach monarch begins, her toothy grin bordering on cruel. "Their cage stays on. If they cum, they do it like a girl." The end of her sentence is buried beneath the loud whining of the caged wolf. Their secrets divulged so casually, just so a relative stranger can tease them more effectively, must be exceptionally embarrassing. As the flustered maned wolf whines and begs, you begin feeling a mean streak coming on. The Queen beckons you to a side passage and wishes you well. "Follow me", you command the Lunisian, and you're surprised when they immediately follow you. Their tail is wagging expectantly, excited by what you have in store for them. You wander through the passage and soon arrive in a large, spa-like room. There's a bathing pool, a bed, and an incredible ocean view. You sit on the edge of the bed, unsure of what to do with your tall lover. He seems to have ideas of his own, however, when you catch him staring at your crotch. Your jumpsuit, as tight as it is, ensures you have a pronounced and quite enticing bulge. With a smile on your face, you speak your first real command. "Kiss it, whore." you order, pointing to the rounded fabric. He hesitates for only the briefest of moments, practically drooling at your request, before kneeling and planting his muzzle firmly against your bulge. His whines are interrupted as he barrages your crotch with kisses, so affectionate that you can feel the warmth through the fabric. You place a hand on his head, holding him still while you grind your bulge against his face. Soon, the squishy firmness is replaced by the outline of your rock-hard length, which you waste no time grinding against your lover's face. Desiring more, you command the slutty wolf to undress you, and he does so as hurriedly as he can. It's clear that he's desperate to plant his face to your crotch again. As your jumpsuit falls away, you're left gasping when he resumes his kissing, now against your erect cock. His messy, uncoordinated, yet ridiculously enthusiastic kisses make you see stars. His tongue laps against your member in-between kisses, lapping up the precum that low leaks from your tip. You can't wait any longer. You've seen how desperately horny the wolf is and desperately want him to put that desperation into sucking you. "Suck, slut." you sharply blurt out, and your lover's eyes go wide. He rears back until your lip hangs only an inch from his lips before suddenly, slowly pushing forward. You gasp in shock and pleasure as he works your cock to the back of his throat and then takes you to the base. You moan involuntarily when he plants a kiss against your sheath, all the while throating your throbbing cock. You can't stay still for another moment. Everything this Lunisian catamite does invites you to use them, to indulge in further debauchery, and you finally give in. Gripping his ears, you immediately begin facefucking him. Their whines are broken by each thrust down their throat, their need punctuated by the wet slapping of your knot against their lips. Under regular circumstances, you'd be worried about hurting him, but now all you care about is blowing a fat load down his throat. As your orgasm hits, you clasp both hands behind his head and crush-fuck your knot past his lips. An overwhelming orgasm tears through you as you pump what feels like gallons of seed down the poor wolf's throat, and they obediently take it all without protest. You're completely spent, your orgasm fading now, and you turn your attention back to your lover. The poor Lunisian is looking up at you with affectionate, half-lidded eyes. You can still feel his throat spasming around your cock, and his tongue lapping at your knot. Thinking back to the Queen's advice, you decide to put on a show for him. You stare down at him with feigned contempt, watching as worry spreads across his face. "Good girl", you coo down at him, a devious grin on your face. "You took my knot like a champ. You do this a lot, don't you, toy?" You watch as he tenses up, tiny tears in his eyes, and cum sprays from all openings of his chastity cage. It seems your very mild teasing was enough to send him over the edge, and his face is suddenly crimson with embarrassment. Continuing to tease the Lunisian while their orgasm fades, you suddenly realise you're still choking him out with your cock. You grip his ears and, bit by bit, dislodge your knot from his mouth. With a lewd "Pop!" you finally pull from your canid lover's mouth. As soon as he can, he takes in several short, relieved breaths. "Th-thank you..." he whispers out, resting his cum-soaked muzzle on your thigh. . . . You spend a bit longer with the Lunisian, petting his hair and telling him what a good girl he is. Each compliment seems to make him more flustered. When you're done teasing him, the two of you clean up the communal baths and head back to the throne room. As you arrive, the Queen flashes you a knowing wink, and your lover hurries to retake their place among the other "Princesses". --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Thank your lover" , "Queen Sam - Talk")</td> </tr> </table>}

When she asks which of her attractive men caught your eye, you pick the Ailurian. They rise from among the other scantily clad men, an excited smile on their face. The Queen, meanwhile, looks a little concerned. "Be careful with this one, ok? I don't want you to break them". You're just about to reassure her when you realise that she's talking to the "Princess", not to you. When she addresses you, it comes as a warning. "They'll be on their best behaviour... but... be careful, ok? This one tends to get a little carried away, and they're a powerful telepath". You nod, a little apprehensive of your soon-to-be lover now that so many warnings have been exchanged. "Follow me," the red panda tells you before leading you into a side room. You're excited to find the room equipped with a comfy-looking bed, a bathing area, and a magnificent ocean view. You ask the red panda to raise his hands, and he does so excitedly. His hands, like all Ailurians, are a pair of oversized, unwieldy paws. They're so thick that you wonder how they manage anything at all. When you bring your fingertips to the plush softness of their paw pads, you're immediately in awe of how soft they are. Your fingers sink into his fat, squishy paws with the utmost ease. You're so enamoured by his soft paws that you neglect to check his reaction. When you look up at him, you're met with a truly obscene expression. He's flushed crimson, biting his lip and drooling slightly. You want to pull away for a moment, but the thought seems to fizzle out before you're able to. You briefly wonder if the Ailurian's telepathic abilities are active now that you're touching him, and you're surprised when your lover nods. Unsure if it's your own decision, you find yourself telling the soft-pawed man to pleasure you. You undress, sit on the bedside, and tell him to give you a paw job. You don't know why you're so excited, why you want it so much, or why you're feeling increasingly doughy-headed. You slump back slightly, your breath already unsteady for some reason. Your erect cock throbs in front of you, but you don't even remember getting hard. Wasting no time, your lover entombs your cock with their pillowy paws, expertly milking your cock before you utter a single word. Immediately, you're gasping and squirming, embarrassed at how expertly his non-dextrous paws are coaxing you to orgasm. When your precum dribbles from the tip of your dick, the slick fluid is immediately used to intensify your lover's paw-based affections. Although you've been reduced to a moaning, overwhelmed mess, you're still far more composed than your lover. With each movement of their paws, they're left drooling and whispering obscene declarations of love. Their cock is rock hard and leaking like a faucet. When they slow, overwhelmed by the sensations you're feeling, you grip their paws and thrust between them yourself. This leaves your lover shedding soft tears, crying out in pure ecstasy as you fuck their paws. When you cum, a high-pressure jet of your cum spurts up from between their paws, spattering you both. The Ailurian's psychic link immediately causes them to climax as well. They maintain the link, however, and the pleasure slings back and forth between you both, intensifying with each jump. It's a terrifying game of psychic chicken, which threatens to destroy you both if left too long. Expertly, they hold you both in the perpetual, mind-shattering orgasm right up until it becomes dangerous, before quickly dropping the link. By the time you do, the panda's paws and face are utterly drenched with your cum, and they're kneeling in a pool of their own seed. The world is spinning, and your heart is pounding. If your orgasm had been any more intense, you'd have passed out on the spot. You gasp and whine, hoping for a post-orgasmic cuddle or some other kind of aftercare... but your lover has different ideas. Rising from between your legs with a terrifying, needy grin, they straddle your hips and demand more from you. You whimper out an apology but are soon crying out as the red panda's cum-soaked paws slap either side of your head. You have the briefest of moments to realise just how fucked you are before the world melts into an endless, temporally-indistinct dimension of utter, unadulterated, overwhelming pleasure. You are so totally consumed by the pleasure that your mind becomes unable to process it, and the only thing punctuating the overwhelming numbness that threatens to burn out your neurons is the occasional sensation of your aching balls being emptied. You black out. . . . When you finally come to, you're hit by equal parts satisfaction and pain. Your balls are aching like you've cum dozens of times. Atop you, your lover is sleeping. Your front is drenched in his cum, and as you adjust your position, you find that your cock is buried in his ass. Your limbs refuse your control, but you're able to clumsily push the red panda off of you. They land on the bed, still asleep, with a satisfied smile on their face. You stagger and stumble over to the bathing area, do an awful job of cleaning yourself, and struggle for what feels like an hour just to pull on your jumpsuit again. When you make it back to the throne room, your entire body feeling like it's on the verge of giving out, the Queen greets you. "Ah! I was starting to get worried! Usually, they don't keep our guests that long. They're passed out somewhere then, I take it?" You open your mouth to speak but can only slur out confused gibberish. Your thoughts still feel jumbled and impossible to hold onto. "Ah, don't worry about that." the Queen begins. "After psychic lovemaking, it's not unusual for your mind to be a little bruised." At the Queen's request, you rest for a little while. Soon, you're able to speak and think clearly, although your limbs still feel a little less coordinated than before. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Nurse your headache" , "Queen Sam - Talk")</td> </tr> </table>}

"You want to... fuck your past self?" she asks incredulously, cocking a brow at you. "That's a little fucked up... but... I suppose it's just masturbation with extra steps, huh?" You laugh awkwardly, unsure how to justify your obscene request. You're left speechless, however, when the Queen waves her hand, and one of your past selves rises from among the other Princesses. "Alright", the Queen begins, "I'll allow it... but I'd enjoy it if you'd give us a show." You don't think twice, agreeing to the Queen's lewd request and walking to meet your past self. Soon, the elastic fabric of your jumpsuit is pressing against your past self's skin. Their lips meet yours before either of you have a chance to think about it. You feel their hands roaming across your back, soon pulling on the zipper and exposing your naked body to the cool, ocean-smelling air. They trail kisses down your front, each one hitting a spot you adore being kissed. By the time their lips meander between your thighs, you're already erect and leaking. With a final kiss planted right on the tip of your cock, they lean forward and take you into their throat. You grip their head, taken by surprise by their expert oral skills. The Queen has trained them well, and they're using their new skills combined with all of your favourite techniques. They cock their head as they suck your cock, lap at your knot while deep-throating you, and even poke a pair of fingers into your exposed ass. Before long, they're prodding your love button in perfect rhythm with the blow job, and are easily able to send you over the edge. Using their hands, they deny you the ability to knot their mouth and endure as you pathetically hump their lips and cum. They stand before your orgasm fades, stepping aside as you spurt over the throne room floor. You see stars, your heart racing, your face flushing red as you become aware of the Queen and her harem, now circling you and openly stroking themselves. As you open your mouth to speak, you're immediately distracted when your lover turns and, without saying a word, presses their plush rear to your crotch. You gasp and whine, smearing cum across their soft ass cheeks before pulling back for a moment and pushing into your past self's hole. They're tight yet delightfully soft. You understand, much to your embarrassment, why others seem to go to such lengths just to fuck you. Despite having just cum, it isn't long before you're blowing a second load in your past self's ass. You grip them firmly from behind as you throb and pump inside them, letting out truly pathetic whimpers as they push back against you. They know all of your weaknesses and desires. There's no need for exploration or experimentation. They already know exactly where your buttons are and just how you enjoy them being pushed. Without protest, you allow them more and more free freedom to use you, immensely satisfied by the singular, unique affections that only another you can provide. Soon, you're lying on your back while they rise and fall on your cock. You're already spent and sore, but they keep effortlessly coaxing additional orgasms from you. Being so effortlessly manhandled by your clone, it isn't long before they decide a little role reversal is in order. You have just enough time to whimper out a protest before your clone's tip pushes past your lips. Wet slapping fills the throne room as your past self—who at the moment seems to be the superior of you both—begins mercilessly facefucking you. You gag, moan and struggle but can't deny that you love being treated so poorly, and under such an obscene series of events. When your past self finally knots your face, they do so uncaringly. Your head strikes the throne room floor with an audible thud, and a moment later, you're struggling not to drown as cum pumps down your throat. Warmth splatters over you both, and in between your past self's heavy balls slapping your face, you can see the Queen and her harem cumming over the top of you both. It seems they enjoyed the show. By the time your past self's orgasm fades, they've filled your stomach so full that it's lightly rounded and pregnant-looking. You're shocked that their orgasm was so huge, not thinking yourself possible of such a feat. "My apologies", the Queen suddenly teases, her authoritative voice easily breaking through the moans of the men present. She's eyeing your rounded stomach with a satisfied grin on her face. "I may have neglected to let him cum for a while... I do hope you enjoyed your meal~." Her voice is teasing, knowing even, and it makes you wonder if she explicitly had your past self refrain from cumming until you were involved. At the thought, you tense up and paint your past self's face alabaster, consumed by immediate shame that such a perverse thought is what brought you to orgasm. . . . A short time later, you and your past self have been cleaned up by the Queen and her "Princesses". You're red-faced even now, knowing that everyone present just witnessed your debauched acts of self-love. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Hide your shame" , "Queen Sam - Talk")</td> </tr> </table>}

Your eyes have been fixed on the shark girl's thick cock the entire conversation, and it isn't long before she finally addresses it. Your heart pounds as she spreads her legs and motions to her crotch. "Want a taste of the royal sceptre?" she asks with a smile, and your legs turn to jelly. You stagger a few steps closer before falling to your knees, your head now nestled between her thighs. As her musk floods your lungs, your mind goes blank. Everything that isn't between her legs fades into darkness, and you immediately become hyper-fixated. Your cock throbs and leaks beneath you, now painfully hard. "I-I..." you slur out, pressing your snout to the cleft of her balls before you can form another word. She plays with your hair, cooing down at you affectionately, and asks you a deliciously salacious question. "Why don't you have a taste?" You let out an involuntary whine, instantly acquiescing to her request. You press your lips to the Monarch's heavy-looking balls and kiss them like a long-lost lover. Her taste is indescribable, instantly overwhelming your already musk-addled senses. She reclines in her chair and bites her lip, letting you give her orbs as much attention as you like. It's only when you pull away, drooling and moaning, that the Queen motions to her cock. From where you're sitting, it looks particularly huge. Your heart racing, head empty and all too desperate to choke on her cock, you open your drooling mouth as invitingly as you can manage, and the shark girl is all too happy to help. Tracing her fingers through your hair, you're overexcited as she pulls your face up to the tip of her cock. As her tip passes your lips, the salty, addictive taste of her precum dances across your tongue. You immediately move to take more of her dick into your lips, but she holds you in place. You whine and beg around her cock as she firmly grips your hair, refusing you another inch. For a few minutes, she just smiles down at you as you squirm and wriggle, desperately trying to take more of her dick. With a toothy grin, she suddenly releases your hair, and your obscene desperation immediately comes back to bite you. Pulling away from her hand, but with nothing holding you, you immediately slam your face to the base of her cock. You splutter and gag, briefly knocked from your pheromone-induced stupor, before her musk, taste, and the realisation of what you're doing entraps you again. You throat her cock with unnatural enthusiasm, letting out muffled moans at just about every ounce of precum that glides down your throat. You pull back until your lips tease at the glans of her cock, before slamming your face into her crotch. Each motion earns a heart gasp from your royal lover, who lets you be as rough with yourself as you like, only gripping your hair to remind you to breathe. When the girthy shark girl finally blows a massive load down your throat, you're gagging and moaning around the base of her shaft. She holds you there for several moments, ensuring that every drop of her intense orgasm finds its way to your throat. Meanwhile, your orgasm hits—albeit far less impressive than your lover's—and you splatter a pathetic volume of cum against the base of her throne. You gurgle and moan around her cum-soaked cock, and she has to pull you away so you don't drown. When the cool air fills your lungs, you find yourself wishing it was her seed instead. . . . After cleaning you up, the Monarch invites you to sit on her lap. She pampers you as the effects of her pheromones wear off, and you're thoroughly embarrassed when you eventually regain your senses. "T-those pheromones sure are potent!" you eventually cough out, your throat still sore, hoping to regain some of your dignity. "They're not that strong, cutie", she coos at you, tracing a finger down the length of her saliva-slick cock. "You did all the work~." You're left embarrassed beyond belief while the Monarch simply smiles. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Whimper and whine" , "Queen Sam - Talk")</td> </tr> </table>}

Your gaze wanders to the obscene monarch's crotch—and her thick, throbbing cock. "See something you like?" she suddenly asks, a jagged grin forming on her face. "I-I was just wondering how it would feel to..." you trail off, embarrassed. It's not easy expressing your lewd fantasies to someone so important, nor is doing it in front of her entire harem. "Why don't you come over and take a seat?" she asks, cocking a finger at you. You're left red-faced when she suddenly strokes her erect cock. "Of course, you'd better lube me up first..." With only a moment of hesitation, you kneel before her. Before you know what you're doing, you're barraging her girthy member with dozens of sloppy, desperate kisses. She smells and tastes fantastic, and your head's spinning by the time she finally commands you to stop. Her length slick with your saliva, you're left whining when she suddenly slumps back in her throne, giving you more than enough space to straddle her lap. You do so unthinkingly and let out sharp gasps as her tip prods your hole. You lower yourself slowly, gasping as her fat, throbbing cock stretches you wide. It's so big that you almost immediately reach your limit, gritting your teeth and waiting until the discomfort subsides. For quite a while, you do nothing but wait, fall another few inches, and then repeat the process. She never rushes you, just smiling as you do your best. If anything, the knowledge that she's stretching you, pushing your limits and claiming you as her own only excites her even more. "Easy now", she whispers against your clavicle. "Keep doing this well, and you might just impress me..." For some reason, you immediately feel compelled to do just that. The prospect of impressing the powerful shark woman has your heart pounding and your head filled with obscene fantasies of servitude. You continue, gasping and moaning as you squash inch after inch of your lover's throbbing meat into your insides before your ass cheeks finally meet the supple softness of her thighs, and she gives you a contented smile. Taking your hand in her own, she guides it to your stomach and over the prominent bulge that is now visible there. "Good girl", she coos as you gasp, awestruck, as you realise how easily she fit something so big inside you. Mind racing and heart aflutter, you can do little but beg her for more, and she's delighted to indulge you. She commands you to rise and fall on her cock, and you do so unthinkingly. After a few motions, however, she suddenly adjusts your position. "No, no, like this," she guides, having you lean back just a tiny bit. The difference is immediate and intense, her cock grinding firmly against your prostate with the next movement. You let out perhaps the sluttiest moan of your life, shaking with pleasure and struggling to keep a rhythm. As you bounce on her cock, she suddenly locks lips with you. Your mind goes blank, your heart races, and you picture all kinds of futures with the fat-cocked monarch. You can feel her leaking inside you, and the knowledge that you're pleasuring her brings you instant, overwhelming happiness. With her expert guidance, it isn't long before you're splattering ropes over the shark woman's stomach and breasts, your orgasm leaving you breathless, completely satisfied and even a little sore. She responds in turn by pulling you down sharply, letting out a muffled moan and biting her lip. As you're held in place, your lower stomach bulging, you can physically see each throbbing torrent of cum beneath your skin. By the time she's done pumping you full of cum, the bulge of her cock is no longer visible—instead, your stomach is now rounded and pregnant-looking. You fall forward, head landing between her plush breasts, and she showers you with kisses. You whine softly as she tells you what a good girl you are and how impressed she is by your performance. You're surprised and incredibly embarrassed when a second orgasm suddenly crashes through you, coaxed out by her praising alone. . . . A short time later, she's helped you clean up. You're standing shakily, still a little drunk on her pheromones. She snaps her fingers, and the members of her harem immediately lick her cock clean. She gives you an inviting wink as you watch with barely hidden jealousy. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Hide your jealousy" , "Queen Sam - Talk")</td> </tr> </table>}

(if: $NovaPoseidonis_JoinedHaremCount is 0)[During your journey through the oceans of Luna, you accidentally drift too close to Nova Poseidonis and are met by several guards. They watch you with caution, obviously displeased by your "exploration" of their territories. At their request, you turn around and leave their waters. You're free to visit the city whenever you like, but they draw the line at snooping around.]{ }(else:)[During your journey through the oceans of Luna, you accidentally drift too close to Nova Poseidonis and are met by several guards. They recognise you immediately as an ally of the Queen and allow you to travel unimpeded. As you do, a few guards chaperone you, making sure you're safe in their waters. When you eventually leave their territories, the guards that had been accompanying you wave you farewell and wish you luck on your journey.] --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Explore other areas" , "Luna - Ocean voyage")</td> </tr> </table>}

{<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td style="font-size:300%">Ailurians</td></tr> </table> } (text-style:"underline")[''Description''] Descended from the shrewd raccoon men of Procya, Ailurians are a humanoid race resembling Terran red pandas. They vary between 4 and 6 feet in height and are known throughout the galaxy for their enlarged hand paws, which grant them tactile telepathic abilities. (text-style:"underline")[''Culture''] Ailurians do not possess a defined homeworld, although the majority of them live on Procya, and, as such, do not have a well-defined culture. Many are as unscrupulous as their raccoon brethren, although they often find it far harder to participate in shady dealings due to the involuntary empathy that their psionics cause. Physical contact without purpose is a tremendous taboo for most of their kind since it allows for the browsing and exchange of memories. Unlike the Na'Ja, who experience constant psychic transmissions and are linked ambiently with everyone nearby, the physicality required for Ailurian telepathy grants them a degree of privacy. An exception to this rule is fluctuations in speech, which Ailurian sensory organs are able to perceive even at a distance. Lying to an Ailurian is a considerable feat, with only a handful of people in the galaxy capable of doing so. Outside of Procya, Ailurians are sought after as spies and interrogators, with the most skilled being incredible information recovery specialists even when facing fully-fledged psychics. (text-style:"underline")[''Sexual equipment''] Most Ailurians have a single, uncut humanoid cock, ranging from 5 to 8 inches in length. Hanging beneath them are a pair of grape-sized testicles. Ailurian's psychic organs, found in their oversized hand paws, are also involved in trysts, both romantic and sexual. It's the norm for an Ailurian to touch their lover during sex and form a psionic link so that they and their partner can share each other's pleasure. Their paws are also erogenous zones, and most Ailurians have a massive paw fetish as a result. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>(link-goto:"Return","Codex")</td></tr> </table>}

Red-faced, you ask the Queen if you could spend some time with one of the Princesses. She's all too happy to accept, grinning that horny, toothy grin that you've come to expect. "Of course, cutie", she coos out. "Which one of my Princesses caught your eye?" Among the members of her harem, a few men stand out... There's a Spacer Lunisian, A tall, lanky man, who looks at you with a desperate expression and always seems to be softly whining. The cause, a chastity cage enclosing his sheath, is visible for all to see. Beside them is an Ailurian, a tactile psionic species known for their intense telepathic mating rituals and oversized paws. This one looks at you with a hungry grin, licking its lips. Lastly, you spot one of your past selves. It's a bit of a taboo, but you could always ask to have your way with them. They seem uninterested in you, no doubt used to the colourful acts of debauchery now available to them as a member of the Queen's court. Who will you choose? --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Spacer Lunisian->Queen's harem - Spacer Lunisian]]</td> <td>[[Horny Ailurian->Queen's harem - Ailurian]](if: $ContentWarnings is "High")[ 😵 ]</td> <td>[[Your clone->Queen's harem - Your clones]]</td> </tr> </table>}

{(if: $ContentWarnings is "High" and $ContentWarning_Hedon is true)[(goto:"Hedon content warning")] }(if: $Hedon_BeenBefore is false)[(set: $Hedon_BeenBefore to true){ }You input the coordinates for the sexual paradise of Hedon, and soon you're hurtling through hyperspace towards it. Suddenly, warnings flash across your screens. All of the bridge consoles flicker and distort, drenching the room in an aggressive red light, and the contents of each rearrange into a woman's face. Her features are indistinct and shifting, and soon after spotting you, they take on the appearance of a Vulpis. "W-who are you?" you question, backing away from the nearest screen bearing the stranger's digital visage. "I am Dionysus. Mother of Hedon." the voice informs you, and your ship's systems automatically perform a scan of Hedon's moon. On one of the corrupted consoles, you're able to read the composition analysis. The moon of Hedon, as it turns out, is actually a planet-sized supercomputer... The body of Dionysus. "State your business, traveller," Dionysus requests. They seem gentle, but you immediately feel like you're being manipulated. Were they physically here, you wouldn't dare turn your back to this individual. You hesitate for a few moments, scanning the room for a console that doesn't bear her face. There are none. "I'm just an explorer", you truthfully blurt out, your voice unsteady, despite your best efforts. There's a pause of a few moments before the red dominating your bridge gives way to a pale blue instead. "I have performed the necessary investigations into your origin and intentions. I have transmitted landing coordinates and informed terrestrial landing crews of your approach. Have a pleasant stay... and please, keep out of trouble." Your screens flicker again, and soon your systems are all registering normal activity. It's as if the digital invader was never here, and the thought makes you exceptionally uneasy. "Slut Captain?" your ship's AI chimes in, its voice unusually faint. "What is it?" you ask, swivelling in your chair, checking that Dionysus' faces have disappeared from every screen in your proximity. "42 nanoseconds..." your ship's AI states, horror in its electronic voice. "My systems were breached in 42 nanoseconds. Engines and reactor security systems were also compromised in that time." "Where are you going with this?" you question your terrified AI, who pauses before clarifying. When your AI next speaks, it's regained at least a little composure. "At any point during your conversation, Dionysus could have killed us instantly. The only reason it permits us to land is that it legitimately cannot perceive us as a threat. We are... nothing to her." A shiver runs up your spine when you manually check your ship's security systems, finding that they were indeed compromised. Before retracting her influence from your systems, it appears that Dionysus took the liberty of upgrading a few of them without even asking. You follow Dionysus' instructions and land at the specified landing pad. A team of muscular, overall-clad men hurry around and prepare for your arrival. They're also joined by a number of automated drones which, in the short time you watch, correct no less than a dozen of their mistakes. Soon, you're stepping out onto the landing pad. In an instant, you're surrounded by half a dozen men, all several feet taller than you and absolutely covered in muscle. They offer you sex, love and everything in between. You're left red-faced when the assistant drones hurry off the horny men, who whine and huff as they're ushered away.]{ }(else:)[(if: (random:1,10) > 7)[(goto:"Drone swarm")]{ }You chart a return to the orbit of Hedon, and your systems are again seized by the lunar AI orbiting the paradise. "Ah, it's you," Dionysus says, and you're sure you hear some relief in her... its?... voice. "I have taken the liberty of transferring you landing coordinates. Ground crews have been briefed and are ready to receive you. Welcome back." You follow her instructions and are soon touching down on a landing pad. Just as with previous touchdowns, squads of muscular men and well-equipped drones hurry to assist your landing. A few even begin on minor repairs, which makes you feel a little uneasy, albeit grateful as well.] --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>[[Explore the city->Hedon]]</td></tr> </table>}

{(set: $Event to (random:1,5)) }(if: $Event is 1 and $Experienced_BadEnd_Drug_Muscle is true)[As you stand out on the streets of Hedon, you spot a crowd nearby. They seem to be encircling something, but you can't make out what it is. Filled with curiosity, you approach the group, squeezing between overly-enthused, huge men until you're able to see what they're looking at. Your cheeks are immediately flushed a pronounced scarlet. At the centre of the crowd kneels your past self, currently debasing themselves for the audience. Currently, they have their snout pushed to the balls of a much larger man. "M-my alpha..." your past self slurs out, dregs of cum dripping from their lips. "Shut it, bitch", the man replies, with genuine disdain in his voice. As soon as they're insulted, your clone cries out and spurts sticky ropes of cum across the floor. "Form a crowd, everyone!" one of your past self's new masters commands. "This little fuck is making out with every cock here. Remember, whoever insults them the worst gets to ruin them once we're done!" Your past self's tail wags as the men form a queue, their erect cocks already dripping expectantly. This is... too much to watch. As stealthily as you can manage, you slink away. As you exit the crowd, you're able to hear your past self begging strangers to humiliate them.]{ }(else-if: $Event is 2 and $Experienced_BadEnd_Drug_IQBGone is true)[As you stand in the streets of Hedon, wondering where to go next, you're suddenly taken off guard when an unusual individual trots by. Their immensely muscular, perfect upper body sits upon a tauric lower body that, just like the rest of them, is rippling with impressive, pronounced musculature. You get the feeling that they'd be a few heads taller than you as a mere biped, but as a quadruped, they're almost twice as tall as you. They're so much taller than you, in fact, that you quickly notice there's something—someone—tethered beneath the goliath of a man. With your cheeks reddening, you suddenly recognise the individual roped beneath the man. They're one of your past selves who, in days gone, overdosed on an IQ-obliterating drug and became the tauric man's permanent cock-sleeve. You attempt to talk to the tauric man in hopes of saving your past self, but his casual gait is more than enough to outpace you. The most you're able to do is hurry along his side, growing more embarrassed as you involuntarily watch the man's horse cock wetly slapping into your prior self. Eventually, the sizable cum trail left behind by the man causes you to slip, and you fall to the ground. You watch, ashamed, as the man and your past self disappear into the distance.]{ }(else-if: $Event is 3 and $Experienced_BadEnd_Drug_Lactation is true)[As you explore the streets of Hedon, you suddenly spot a man drinking a sizable bottle of milk. You hadn't thought about it before, but such massive guys must have to eat and drink an excessive amount to maintain their bulk. You're utterly horrified, however, when you recognise the logo on the bottle as your own, mind-broken face. After your past self overindulged on that lactation drug, was this really the fate that befell them? You feel embarrassed, reflexively trying to hide your face. The thought that your likeness is now associated with a mind-broken cow brings you incredible shame. ]{ }(else-if: $Event is 4 and $Experienced_BadEnd_Drug_Pleasure is true)[As you journey through the streets of Hedon, you're suddenly met with a truly obscene sight. A few paces ahead of you, you can see an individual being pulled along on a lead. With growing redness in your cheeks, you realise that it's a past version of yourself. Their expression is one of complete, absent-minded pleasure. Their tongue lolls from their open, gasping mouth, and their exposed, erect cock spurts cum with every step. A cleaning drone even seems to be following them specifically, apparently having determined that they're a constant source of mess. Their new master looks at them with utter lust, a pronounced bulge throbbing beneath their clothing as they look over your naked self's body. Before you can intervene, the man lads your past self into a nearby alleyway. Soon, the sounds of gagging and wet slapping can be heard. Horrified at your clone's fate, you turn away from the alleyway and do your best to forget what you just saw.]{ }(else:)[You are standing in the sunny streets of Hedon. The city is beautiful and vibrant, the sun is warm, and lush greenery contrasts utilitarian, modern-looking architecture. Soon, however, you're growing red-faced when muscular men wink and whistle as they pass you. There is no shortage of hunks on this planet, something that you immediately fall in love with. Above you, drones speedily whirr past to places unknown, and few stop to clean up various messes nearby. When you draw closer, you can see that they bear the faces of Dionysus, each one a vessel for her devoted maintenance of the planet. From where you're standing, you can see a nightclub, a chem dispensary, an outdoor gym, a milking station, and a nearby beach.] --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Nightclub->Hedon - Night club Arrival]]</td> <td>[[Chem dispensary->Enter dispensary]]</td> <td>[[Outdoor gym->Hedon - Gym]]</td> </tr> <tr> <td>[[Milkers->Hedon - Milking stations]]</td> <td>[[Beach->Hedon - Beach]]</td> <td>(link-goto: "Return to your ship" , "Ship - Bridge")</td> </tr> </table>}

(if: $HedonNightclub_ProvenYourself is false)[Looking for something a little more lively, you head to the local nightclub. As you near the entrance, now able to hear the booming music from inside, you're suddenly stopped by an imposing figure. They appear to be a Lunisian, albeit a heavily gene-modded one. Rather than a wolf, they are closer in appearance to a Terran German Shepherd. You estimate him at almost 8 feet tall, massive even for the himbofied residents of Hedon. They fold their arms and growl down at you, denying you entry. When you enquire why you can't enter, the man simply waves his hand at you. It's obvious why, to him, at least. When he sees the dejected, confused look on your face, he elaborates. It's not that you're undesirable; it's simply that he believes you're too delicate to safely interact with the patrons and their activities. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Prove yourself->Night club - Prove yourself]]</td> <td>(link-goto:"Leave","Hedon")</td> </tr> </table>}]{ }(else:)[You head towards the local nightclub and know you're in the right place when the sound of booming music can be heard. Approaching the entrance, you're greeted by the bouncer. He stops you for a moment, and you're left red-faced and gasping when he pulls you close. His hands trace down the back of your jumpsuit and give your plush bubble butt a rough squeeze. "Alright, you can head on in..." the imposing German Shepherd says, a tremendously horny grin on his face. "... Or, you could always keep me company instead." --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Head inside->Hedon - Night club]]</td> <td>[[Actually...->Night club - Fuck the bouncer]]</td> <td>(link-goto:"Leave","Hedon")</td> </tr> </table>}]

You approach the outdoor gym and are immediately out of your depth. An overpowering masculine scent floods your nostrils and makes you ridiculously horny. No matter where you turn, there are powerful-looking men lifting weights. Their perfect muscles glisten with sweat. When they catch you staring, a few of the men go out of their way to over-exaggerate their workouts, and all the additional eye candy has your cheeks flushed bright red. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>[[Start your workout!->Gym - Workout]]</td></tr> </table>}

You stroll from the city centre down to the waterfront and are amazed by what you find. The entire beach looks like something off of a postcard, with clean, warm-looking sand and gentle, crystal clear waters stretching into the distance. There is no shortage of attractive men here, sunbathing, swimming and even a few playing volleyball. When you're spotted, a dozen or so men leer at you, wolf-whistle, and you're immediately bombarded with invitations to join them in their various activities. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Swim->Beach - Swim]]</td> <td>[[Sunbathe->Beach - Sex]]</td> <td>[[Volleyball->Beach - Volleyball]]</td> </tr> <tr> <td></td> <td>(link-goto: "Leave" , "Hedon")</td> <td></td> </tr> </table>}

(if: $Hedon_ChemDispensaryBeenBefore is false)[The door jingles as you enter the chem dispensary, finding that the interior resembles that of a traditional pharmacy. The shelves are lined with all kinds of medicines, drugs and stimulants. Most bear adult artwork or dirty slogans that put defined crimson in your cheeks. There are so many options that you quickly become overwhelmed with choice. From behind the front counter, a voice suddenly calls out to you. "Greetings, valued customer!" it says, through an obvious voice synthesiser. You turn and find an android standing expectantly. He is undeniably masculine, resembling a particularly muscular Lunisian. His entire body and musculature are covered in pearl-coloured faux-flesh, giving him a medical, sterile appearance. He somehow appears soft and solid at the same time, and you almost reach out to touch his abs without thinking. "What can I get you?" the android asks.]{ }(else:)[The android watches you expectantly, ready to fulfil any order you request. You find yourself staring at his body, despite your best efforts to avoid it. Although he's an android with no real flesh on display, his faux musculature and... sizable... replica genitalia are extremely difficult to miss. "Sir?" the android asks, causing you to flinch. He's giving you a knowing look, leaving you red-faced and stammering for a few moments.] --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Ask about chems->Ask about chems]]</td> <td>[[Try some chems->Try before you buy]]</td> <td>[[Purchase chems->Buy chems]]</td> </tr> <tr> <td></td> <td>(link-goto: "Leave" , "Hedon")</td> <td></td> </tr> </table>}

You approach the nearby milking station, which is currently being cleaned by half a dozen drones. You watch red-faced as they suck up pools of cum, powerwash the entire area, and dry it within the span of just a few seconds. Leaning against a nearby wall, the last user is still recovering. They're a massive Procyon man who's moaning softly as another of the drones cleans his still half-erect cock. When he sees you, he winks and offers to "help you out" while you use the milker. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Use the milker alone->Milking station - Alone]]</td> <td>[[Accept his help->Milking station - With help]]</td> <td>(link-goto: "Never mind" , "Hedon")</td> </tr> </table>}

You brush off the muscular Procyon's offer and approach the milking apparatus alone. There's some redness in your cheeks as you strip off your jumpsuit and press your growing cock to the spongy aperture of the device. To call how it feels "heavenly" feels like a colossal understatement. The device feels almost alive as you push into the squishy, self-lubricating milker with increasing excitement. No later than the plush silicon of the opening squashes to your sheath, the milker activates. In just a few seconds, you're left breathless and gasping, gripping the milker's handles in an attempt to remain standing. Your cock is stroked and rubbed with the algorithmic perfection derived from a million previous clients. In no time at all, you're blowing a load into the machine and approaching your second orgasm as well. Despite your refractory period, the machine expertly coaxes you to climax after climax, easily exceeding your limits with precise and directed overstimulation. You thrust into the machine completely empty-headed and satisfied, crying out in ecstasy as you empty your balls over and over again. You're gripped by such intense pleasure that, were the machine you're fucking sentient, you'd probably propose to it on the spot. . . . It's over an hour later when your body finally gives out. You brace yourself against the handles on the device, trying to prop yourself up so that you can continue enjoying the machine, but a service drone notices you've had enough. When they deactivate the machine, there's just enough stimulus to give you a final, intense orgasm. As your final orgasm fades, you suddenly flinch when you notice that the face of Dionysus hangs over the milker. Her expression is dirty, albeit very satisfied. "Thank you for your participation. Your performance was... satisfactory," she says with a teasing tone in her voice. "Y-you watched all of that?" you cough out, redness building in your cheeks. There's a pause. Dionysus looks confused for a few moments. "Of course I did. You were using one of my machines after all," she states, matter-of-factly. "W-wait... are you saying that we just...?" you trail off, embarrassed that you might have just accidentally fucked a moon. "In a manner of speaking, yes." she casually answers. "Although, please don't worry. Your efforts occupied a very, very... very... small portion of my neural capacity." "O-oh... uh... good?" you mumble out, unsure if she just insulted you on purpose or by complete accident. Either way, you feel profoundly dirty after your milking experience, albeit beyond satisfied. As you pull from the machine with an obscene squelch, drones immediately hurry to clean the equipment and your spent cock. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>(link-goto: "Massage your aching balls" , "Hedon")</td></tr> </table>}

Although you're a little embarrassed, you decide to take the man up on his offer. Pulling off your clothes and coaxing yourself to full mast, you push your cock into the machine. In an instant, you're bracing yourself against the machine and letting out truly whorish moans. You're taken by such surprise that you fail to notice the man from earlier approaching you. When his fat, throbbing cock grinds between your cheeks, you're left gasping and reconsidering whether or not you should have let him get involved. There's no time to change your mind, however, and a moment later, he's pressing his cockhead against your hole, stretching you painfully wide. You cry out as, with an animalistic grunt, the much larger man begins cramming inch after inch into you. There's no nuance or attention to your wellbeing, as you immediately understand that to the residents of Hedon, a diminutive man like yourself is no different from the milker hanging on the wall. Each thrust hits deeper than the last, soon bulging your stomach and leaving you breathless. When he soon bottoms out in you, each belly-bulging thrust has you involuntarily thrusting into the milker as well. It isn't long before you feel a climax approaching, and, your hips bucking with each pelvis-shattering thrust you endure, you soon knot the milker with a lewd "Pop!". You tense up, crying out in confused pleasure as an intense orgasm tears through you. As you empty your balls into the machine, the man "helping" you does the same, albeit directly into your stomach. You try to relax as you feel what must be litres of cum pumping through your guts, easily rounding your belly in an obscene display of excess virility. Soon, you're clasping your hands over your mouth, cheeks bulging, trying desperately not to become a literal cum-fountain. Barely, you manage to keep down the man's ridiculous volume of cum. Your stomach is distended and heavy, and you wince at the uncomfortable warmth filling your insides. You gasp, your breath unsteady, both immensely satisfied and thankful that you can rest. ... Or not. Crying out in surprise, you're powerless as the man begins powerfucking your already gaping hole, the tip of his cock visible at the apex of each thrust, even inside your pregnant-looking, bloated belly. When you beg for mercy, it's ignored. When you try to pull from the device, you find that your knot holds you in place. There's nothing you can do but try to endure the anal ruination that your unintelligent lover is dishing out. You try your best as the milking machine coaxes further orgasms from you, and the man fucking you repeatedly blows more loads into your stomach. Soon, you're gurgling and gagging as a torrent of cum spurts from your mouth and dribbles down your chin. . . . Almost an hour later, one of Dionysus' drones detects your failing mental state and hurries to break up the tryst. The man withdraws from your wrecked insides with a lewd squelch, and his cock is followed by a constant hose of his seed. The milking machine releases your spent cock, and you immediately fall to your knees, bracing yourself against the nearby wall. The world is spinning, and you can see stars. You're sure that if you hadn't been rescued, the hunky idiot railing your ass would've kept going until, and long after, you broke. When you turn to face him, he lets out a satisfied sigh and shoots a final load over your bloated stomach. Without another word, the man leaves you to get cleaned up. With redness in your cheeks, you realise that your body was offered as little fanfare as the milking machine that dribbles in front of you. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>(link-goto: "Slosh and moan" , "Hedon")</td></tr> </table>}

As you awkwardly navigate the nightclub, on the lookout for interesting activities and individuals, someone suddenly catches your eye. They're an approachable-looking man, A Tigrin, sitting alone in one of the private booths, idly stirring their drink with a straw. You step into their booth, reflexively covering your ears as the noise-cancellation abruptly cuts out the blaring music. The man looks up at you with confusion, but there are the beginnings of a smile when he realises your intentions. In as sultry a voice as you can manage, you ask the man if he'd like some company, and he's soon inviting you to his home. You already know where this is going, and you're all too happy to let it play out. You join the man on a short walk back to his apartment, idle conversation punctuated by his hands squeezing at your body. You can see the crotch of his jeans tenting already, in expectation of what is to come. No later than you're in private, the man's lips meet yours. You whimper out a needy gasp, grinding against the much larger man's muscular body, practically begging him to take you. He responds by unzipping your jumpsuit and tossing it across the room, then allowing you to undress him as well. He pulls your naked body to his for a moment, before abruptly tossing you face-down onto a nearby bed. He takes a brief moment to slather his already rock-hard cock with lube before pouncing on you, wrapping his arms around you with impressive strength, and immediately slamming into you. You cry out, overwhelmed by the sudden penetration, but find that your lover is an expert. Despite his roughness, your body acclimates to his advances much faster than you expect. Each thrust into your plush rear has you curling your toes and moaning whorishly. His cock is barbed, but you feel no pain; instead, your lover makes expert use of them, teasing at your prostate in a way that has you squirming with pleasure. In no time at all, you're drenching the bed beneath you, and your lover is giving your insides a similar treatment. Before your orgasm has fully faded, you're breathlessly declaring your love for the tiger as he begins round two. . . . When you awaken the next morning, you're excited to find that he's cooked you a big breakfast. Your well-used behind is aching and sore, and your insides are still spasming from the barbs that teased them for most of the night. The lingering feelings bring you immense joy, however, as they remind you of the passionate night you experienced. You eat together and enjoy a pleasant chat. Unfortunately, when you bring up the potential of going on a date, he clarifies that your night together was a hookup... nothing more. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto:"Oh...","Hedon")</td> </tr> </table>}

(if: $Experienced_BadEnd_Nightclub_Drinks is false or (random:1,3) is 1)[You decide to get a drink and make your way over to the circular bar in the middle of the nightclub. You're surprised when, as you approach, the mechanical arms begin to shift and move various bottles and glasses. By the time you arrive, only a few seconds later, a drink is already waiting for you. It's a dainty pink drink, and you almost feel insulted to have been served something so delicate and emasculating. When you raise the glass to your lips and take the first mouthful, however, any criticisms are thrown aside. It's delicious! You knew the drinks were made specifically for each patron, but you didn't realise they'd anticipate your tastes so accurately. You immediately gulp down the rest of the drink, without even thinking about it. Unthinkingly, you immediately raise your hand and request a refill. Within an instant, an identical drink to the first is sitting in front of you. It's just as delicious as the first. The third and fourth drinks are equally tasty, and surprisingly easy on your stomach as well. The drinks make you feel increasingly warm, but you set any concerns aside until you've finished a total of five drinks. It's only when you hop from your seat and almost collapse, your legs turned to jelly, that you realise you've overdone it. Suddenly, the world is spinning. You stumble haphazardly towards what you mistakingly perceive as the exit—but it's actually just the bathroom. You confusedly stumble into one of the stalls, completely failing to notice the stares you receive as you enter... nor that the interior of the stall that chose is completely, utterly drenched in cum. As you lock the door behind you, you're equal parts horrified and aroused when a pair of flared, massive horse cocks poke through holes in opposite sides of the stall. You're too drunk and horny to resist. You immediately fall to your needs, hefting, squeezing, and soon kissing the mens' shafts. You position yourself between them, wincing as a flared cock-head presses against both your tail hole and lips. With no preamble whatsoever, the men begin treating you like a drunken fleshlight. Just moments after you entered the stall, a duo of cocks are now jackhammering down your throat and up your ass, and you're soon so blackout drunk that you're barely aware of what's going on. Your body loosened up from all the booze, and you're able to take far more punishment than usual. Several pleasureless orgasms are smashed out of you simply because your prostate is being battered with such brutal force. Both your throat and stomach bulge at the apex of each respective thrust. It isn't long before you lose track of time, flittering in and out of lucidity, a different set of cocks smashing into your holes each time you half-regain your bearings. Your stomach bulges a little further with each orgasm you drunkenly swallow down, or that is pumped into your innards. Soon, your stomach is so bloated and full that it suspends you between the two holes, preventing you from leaving... not that you'd even dream of it. As what must be no less than the dozenth pair of cocks slam into you, your cum-inflated stomach audibly sloshing from each impact, you finally black out. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Leave->Drinks - Clean up]]</td> <td>[[Stay put->Drinks - Bad end]]</td> </tr> </table>}]{ }(else:)[You try to watch your alcohol consumption but find that the tasty beverages are, yet again, too delicious to resist. It seems that whatever the personalised drinks are made with is utterly irresistible to you. By the third drink, the world is already beginning to spin. You hop from your chair, almost falling in the process, and soon find yourself stumbling toward one of the bathrooms. When you arrive, you're surprised to find that the room's interior has been recently remodelled. Instead of a bathroom, this room now looks more like a plush bedroom, equipped with countless pillows. At the centre of the room, you immediately spot a truly obscene sight—a person, propped up by pillows, their body so unbelievably bloated with cum that you doubt they can move at all. It appears that, in his cum-inflated state, the nightclub owners decided to renovate the room around the new attraction rather than attempt to move him and, presumably, make a terrible mess in the process. A sign hangs above them, which reads "Free to use". Under normal circumstances, you'd never consider it... but unfortunately, in your intoxicated state, you're unable to resist... and to recognise the poor man as one of your past selves. Clumsily slipping out of your jumpsuit and gripping the cum-saturated fur of their hips, you line up your hardening cock with their gaping ring. You quickly grow frustrated, however, when you find that your previous self's hole has been so obscenely stretched that, despite your best efforts, you are able to thrust past it without ever touching the sides. Instead, you only wetly dunk your cock into the combined cum of countless strangers. It's only when your knot begins to plumpen and inflate that you finally feel their insides. You manage to sloppily knot-fuck your clone's ruined hole with mixed success, soon drunkenly pumping your spunk into your mind-broken past self's upturned ass. Somewhat embarrassingly, the volume of even your particularly messy, drunken orgasm is quickly dwarfed by the litres already bloating your unfortunate lover's guts. You pull on your jumpsuit as you stumble from the bathroom, still completely unaware that the young man you just fucked was a prior version of yourself. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Abandon the cum balloon" , "Hedon")</td> </tr> </table>}]

Eager to fit in with the seemingly endless legion of muscular, attractive men on the planet, you enthusiastically begin a workout. Unfortunately, you quickly encounter issues. No matter what piece of equipment you try to use or how low you set the weight, you can't complete a single rep. Over the course of an hour, you're left sweating and breathless, having achieved literally nothing at all. What's worse, much stronger men than you are watching you with confusion. They don't mean to tease or discourage you; it's just that they're so utterly unused to seeing someone so scrawny and weak. Your ego bruised, you quickly give up. A few words of encouragement are thrown your way but do little to ease your embarrassment. It's only when someone physically blocks your exit from the gym that you stop. The man standing ahead of you is a tall Equir, a horse man with an impressive body that is big even for one of the hyper-muscular residents of Hedon. With an apologetic tone, he offers to show you a workout that might be more your speed, and you happily accept. He leads you over to a nearby mat and, much to your shock, undresses. You're just about to try leaving again when his equine cock surges to full mast, and you're left utterly speechless by how massive it is. It's disproportionately huge, even juxtaposed against the massive man's physique. Despite your better judgement, you decide to see where this is going... Helping you undress, the horse man explains that he'd like you to try having tantric sex with him. Essentially, a sensual yoga where you both stand to benefit both physically and sexually. More specifically, he tells you he's going to guide you through the process of taking his massive, multi-foot cock in your ass... something you're unsure you can manage. He sits on the mat with his legs splayed, his huge, throbbing cock pulsating as you approach. Bracing yourself on the horse's muscular shoulders, you slowly lower yourself onto his member. You struggle to even take his flared cock head, but with his expert guidance, you're soon taking inch after inch with minimal discomfort. He coaches you through exactly what muscles to relax, how quickly to move, and you're surprised when your stomach begins to bulge with only small tinges of discomfort. You continue, enamoured with how expertly he's bulging your stomach, and soon you can feel his medial ring as it pushes into your hole. The horse man is biting his lip, barely stopping himself from thrusting into you, and congratulates you for making it halfway down his thrust in a single session. He's surprised and a little reluctant, however, when you declare you're going to take the entire thing. With great difficulty, you use everything he's shown you so far to great effect. You gasp and moan as you take the rest of his throbbing cock, soon bottoming out. There are tinges of pain from your stretched asshole and bulging stomach, but it's far less than what you would have expected. Your lover is red-faced, coughing out exclamations of disbelief. He tells you through gritted teeth that he couldn't have imagined you'd manage to take his dick on the first try, and his words leave you feeling deeply, deeply slutty. You rub your hands across your bulging stomach, listening to how your lover's breathing becomes increasingly unsteady as you do. The knowledge that you're teasing his cock while it's already buried deep inside you leaves you particularly aroused. The man asks you to slow down, but you're undeterred. You tease at his cock, shift your weight on it, and finally, watching the man's eyes go wide, you messily kiss your bulging stomach. That's done it—the defined outline of his monstrous cock is immediately obscured when a pointed, high-pressure jet erupts from its tip, then another, and another. Gasping as your lover pumps you full, you're overwhelmed as you watch the defined, cock-shaped bulge in your stomach disappear, your belly bulging and bloating with litres of the man's seed. He cums so much that your stomach reddens and stretches taught, before a few additional litres surge upwards and into your cheeks. You pause for a few seconds, the warm, salty taste bulging your cheeks, before forcing yourself to swallow. You groan and whimper as your stomach aches, and your equine lover immediately begins to apologise. He had thought he could hold back, but your obscene kiss took him by complete surprise. He's forced to assist you in climbing off his cock, because your sloshing belly is now so heavy that you struggle to carry it alone. Luckily, when your tip finally pulls from your hole, you discover that his gentle guidance has ensured your muscles are able to tense up, confining his massive load to your insides. Knowing you won't make a mess brings you only a tiny amount of relief, however. With a kiss on the cheek and a very satisfied look on his face, the horse tells you that you can relieve yourself at either the outdoor showers or via some personal cleaning drones in the locker room. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Shower->Gym - Shower]]</td> <td>[[Locker room->Gym - Locker room]]</td> </tr> </table>}

The muscular android pulls you into a sudden, sloppy kiss, squeezing and groping at your rear as he does. You whine past his lips as a strange taste floods your mouth, and soon every sensation begins to feel completely, blissfully unbearable. You gasp and moan past the android's synthetic lips as he brings you to a sudden, explosion orgasm just by placing with your ass cheeks. Pulling away, red-faced, you're well aware that the effects of the drug are already affecting you. You can feel the stretchy fabric of your jumpsuit caressing your body with every breath you take. What's worse, thanks to the android's teasing, your erect cock now bulges the crotch of your clothing and seems to be even more sensitive than the rest of you. By the time you've stumbled to the other end of the room, you've blown no less than three additional orgasms into your jumpsuit. You wipe the drool from your chin, your heart racing, and decide to hurry back to your ship. You are immediately overwhelmed by the most ambient sensations: The cool oceanside breeze feels like a cacophony of hands caressing your most sensitive areas, the warm sun feels like heated massage oils being rubbed into your skin, and even the sensation of each footfall sends shivers up your spine. Ultrasensitive and bizarrely vulnerable, it's no wonder your downfall finds you so quickly. Making it only about 20 metres from the doorway of the chem dispensary, you're suddenly sandwiched between a couple of guys entirely by accident. They blurt out apologies, which you try to reciprocate... but instead, the force of being squashed between them makes you orgasm. Consumed with utter shame, you blow a massive load in your jumpsuit, what must be the dozenth in the last few minutes. Unsteady on your feet and too overwhelmed to think, you're easily led into a nearby alley by the two men, who offer to help you "Blow off some steam". Soon, you're on your knees in the alleyway. The men rub their fat, throbbing cocks against your cheeks, grinning down at you as you squirm and whimper, blowing loads just from how they smell. You lean in, tracing your tongue up one of the men's shafts and, much to your embarrassment and arousal, the sensation of his cock against your tongue instantly has you spurting another rope. No matter how hard you try to restrain yourself, you can't stop climaxing from giving the men oral... and you soon grow to adore it. The way they feel, smell, and taste are easily enough to bring you to orgasm, over and over again. By the time you're throating one of the men's girthy dicks, you've lost count of how many times you've finished. When the man's cock throbs in your throat and you feel warm filling your belly, that too immediately brings you to orgasm. The second man uses your throat just as the first did, and you're no less sensitive. Doughy-headed and overwhelmed, your nerves and synapses are on the verge of frying themselves from the sheer, immense pleasure you're experiencing. You have only excitement when the men turn their attention to your ass. Simple squeezing had you ruining the inside of your jumpsuit, and you climax completely untouched at the thought of being fucked in earnest. One of the men lies on their back, and you immediately straddle his crotch. When his cock head presses to your hole, you let out an involuntary, breathless scream. When he grips your hips and pulls you downwards, you're seeing stars. Each inch of his massive tree trunk of a cock leaves you a gasping, drooling mess. You blow what must be a dozen loads across your lover's stomach and chest by the time you bottom out. No later than you reach the base, you feel a second pressure against your hole. You have only a moment to consider that this is going too far... before the cock of the second man batters into your already stretched hole. You let out perhaps the most whorish noise you've ever made, your lips contorted into a slutty "o" shape. When both men begin thrusting into you, building a messy rhythm, you're reduced to a moaning, drooling, barely-cognizant fleshlight. The pleasure becomes so great that your brain is barely able to perceive it all. Your lover's front is completely saturated with rope after rope of your cum. By the time one of your orgasms fades, you've already experienced three more. Although your neurons are on the verge of burning out, you do manage one thought... You love this. This... being this... is all you need. Suddenly, warmth floods your guts and bloats your stomach into a pregnant-looking sphere. The men below and behind you let out satisfied grunts as they empty themselves into you. The warmth, the quantity, how it pumps into you and overpowers your body... it's torture... delicious, indescribable torture. You're not even sure if you came from it... the pleasure has solidified into a singular constant now. As the men gear up for round 2, you finally reach your limit. You've been drooling for some time now, and when you orgasm, there's nothing left in your balls. Pleasure still overtakes you again and again, but your capacity to endure it has finally run out. The tempest of pleasure still striking you from all angles, you fall down to your lover's chest, darkness overtaking you. . . . When you regain consciousness, an unknown period of time later, you're greeted by one of Dionysus' drones. Several surround you, warding off anyone who comes too close. You realise, much to your embarrassment, that the AI must have spotted your predicament and decided to rescue you. A few additional drones are in the process of cleaning you and the surrounding alleyway, which are both completely drenched in cum. Staggering to your feet, assisted by the drones, you find that your chemically-enhanced sensitivity is now fading. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Whimper and moan" , "Hedon")</td> <td>[[Get another dose->Horny drug - Bad end]]</td> </tr> </table>}

When you ask for a dose of 'Bull Brew', you're shocked when the android points down to his erect manhood. After some further prodding, he reveals that most of the drugs he dispenses are done so from various faux-organic processes. In this case, if you want your fix, you'll have to get it "from the tap". You hesitate for a few moments, and the android watches you with unnatural patience. Finally, too curious to back down, you circle the front counter and lower yourself to your knees. With continuing trepidation, you bring your lips to the android's cock. When your tongue laps against his lip, you're taken off guard by the taste. There's not a hint of the masculine flavour you were expecting. Instead, a rubbery, vaguely sweet taste fills your mouth. With his cock head past your lips, you look up at the android. You're waiting for him to fulfil your order, but instead, he just waits for you to continue. Ahead of you, you're now able to see a blue ring that loops around the base of his cock—Is that how far you have to take him!? You pull away for a moment, steel yourself, and then take him back into your mouth. You gag and splutter, tears building in your eyes as you force yourself to throat his thick, synthetic cock. Despite your best efforts, you're still a few inches short. You curse yourself, bracing yourself on his thighs and getting ready to pull away again... but the android has other plans. He plants a freakishly strong hand on the back of your head and, in a single brutal movement, roughly forces your face to his crotch. You scramble to pull away as a strange, distinctly masculine-tasting fluid begins pumping directly down your throat. Darkness builds in the corners of your vision as you gulp and gag, and just as you think you're going to perish on the android's synth cock, he finally grips your ears and pulls you away. Strings of saliva connect your spluttering face from the android's "drug dispenser", and you're utterly ashamed when you think about how far you were willing to go just to indulge your curiosity. You stagger to your feet, and the android tells you that you can expect the drug to kick in soon. He's right... You brace yourself as the transformation begins—brand new muscle rippling beneath your skin. Over the course of a few minutes, your soft, relatively girly body is transformed to match the other residents of Hedon. There's no place for weakness or flaw in your physique, only the algorithmically designed, pharmaceutically delivered perfection of Dionysus. Your arms thicken, veins pulse, and soon your arms are as thick as tree trunks. Your flat chest now bears a pair of defined pecs, almost as large as some of the breasts you have seen on women of other planets. Unlike those, however, these feel so solid that they could deflect bullets. The softness of your middle is no more, replaced by a defined six-pack. When you trace your fingers across it, it feels like it's been chiselled from marble. Your plump thighs now look like they could easily crush a melon, or perhaps the head of a lover, should they be lucky enough. Where your plush, soft ass was once a constant target for ridiculous and unwanted attention, it's now just as solid and toned as the rest of your body. By the time the transformation is over, you stand no less than 8 feet tall. You catch your reflection and barely recognise yourself, met instead by a muscular Adonis. You look and feel like you could lift a starship over your head without breaking a sweat. As you stride towards the doorway, your jumpsuit accentuating all of your new muscles, you brim with newfound confidence. As you hurry out the doorway, the android behind the counter tries to tell you something, but you're far too excited to listen. You make your way through Hedon, feeling like you belong there for the first time. As you traverse the streets, there's no shortage of compliments thrown your way. You're unsure how to react—you're completely unused to this level of admiration and respect. On multiple occasions, some of the buffest men you've ever encountered are stopping to admire your body. Among those who request a closer look, there are a few men who seem instantly infatuated. They barely, if at all, manage to hide their lust. Soon, you're being invited back to the apartment of a musclebound Lunisian, who guides your hand to his toned rear as you walk with him. During the short journey to their apartment, more men join you. There's redness in your cheeks as you realise your body is now so sought after that an entire harem of submissive, muscular men has formed around you with no effort at all. Arriving at the first man's apartment, you're left biting your lip as dozens of hands rub and squeeze at your chiselled body. Your clothes are soon thrown aside as the men continue to show your new physique nothing but utter, dumbstruck adoration. Hands soon give way to lips and tongues, and you do your best to retain your composure as the men kiss every inch of you. When your cock leaves your sheath, you're relieved to find that the muscle-enhancing drug has affected it as well. Your once average-sized member is now at least a foot long, veiny and throbbing, just waiting to be lodged in a lesser man's hole. Lucky for you, there's no shortage of volunteers. Half a dozen snouts are pressed to your cock before you even have to ask. Aroused beyond words and overtaken by your newfound confidence, you simply pick a muzzle at random and facefuck one of the men. They're completely willing, of course. Why wouldn't they be? To serve such an Adonis, you think to yourself, must be such an honour. You spend the next hour facefucking each of the men, in turn, growing more egotistical and cruel with each load you dump down their throats. You watch as their defined abs give way to rounded bulges where you've forced so much cum down their throats. They gag and whine but never refuse. While you throat-fuck one man, the rest kiss and drool over your muscles. When you're done with their throats, you demand each of their asses in turn. Cruel streak building, you go out of your way to brutalise each man's toned ass with little regard for their wellbeing. You begin echoing some of the insults you've received in the past, telling them they deserve the brutality since you're more of a man than they'll ever be. By the time you're done with each man, their stomachs are bloated and pregnant-looking. You take bizarre satisfaction in the thought that, maybe, the calories from all of your cum are going to ruin their impressive physiques. You brush the thought aside, though—You're the only one that matters, after all. For the next few hours, you make sure they know it. You take what you want, do what you like, and your harem of idiotic, musclebound sycophants follow your every word. They endure round 2 and a particularly unkind round 3, where you berate each man as you empty your balls into them. As you gear up for round 4, however, something feels wrong. Some of the men who had been worshipping your muscles have pulled away, looking at your body with confusion. It takes you a few moments to realise that, where you had exceptionally defined muscle just seconds prior, there are now patches of your previous softness now covering your body. Starting to panic, you realise that the drugs are wearing off! You begin to excuse yourself, but the dozen or so men you've just thoroughly bred grab you. There are angry murmurings between them, accusations that you're a drugged-up fake, and your punishment is decided almost immediately. You're boxed in by the men, their cocks throbbing and dripping over your shrinking body. Anger and arousal flash on their faces as they become privy to your weakness and no doubt consider how to ruin you as payback. Just as two men get ready to slam into your face and ass, however, you shrink down to your original stature. Their hands fall away from you in surprise, and you use the moment to duck and dive between the men and sprint towards the exit. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Turn and fight->Muscle drug - Bad end]]</td> <td>[[Run and hide->Muscle drug - Clean up]]</td> </tr> </table>}

No later than you finish your request, the android takes a step toward you. Without a single word, he suddenly pulls you into a deep kiss, groping your ass with both hands. You flinch but find yourself unable to pull away. When his tongue laps against your own, you taste a sweet flavour that you don't recognise. For a period of time which is, frankly, beyond excessive, he continually tongue-kisses you until darkness creeps into the corners of your vision. By the time he breaks the kiss, the drug has already begun to impede your thoughts. You stagger backwards, having already forgotten why you entered the chem dispensary in the first place. You are briefly able to perceive that your thoughts are jumbled before that too becomes too difficult to think about. Your mind constantly wanders, never giving you enough time to form a real thought. As you stumble around, slurring out half-sentences, the android squeezes at your ass again. Too doughy-headed to feel ashamed, you instead find that you utterly adore the sensation. You ask the android, through a half-managed request, to ruin you. He merely responds by ushering you out onto the street with a synthetic grin on his face. Uninhibited by things like intellect or shame, your true pervert soon bubbles to the surface. You quickly beeline towards the biggest, strongest, most virile men you can find. They're all too happy to indulge the brainless slut you've become, especially when you fall to your knees, mouth agape, begging them wordlessly to fuck you. Before too long, you're gagging as not one but two excessively massive cocks ram down your throat. Their girth stretches your face into a faux-smile which unintentionally conveys your thoughts perfectly. As the men use your throat like a co-op fleshlight, you feverishly masturbate beneath them, pleasuring yourself to a situation that the regular you might have relegated to the realm of fantasy. The two men blow their bloats at the same time, their individual torrents of cum combining on the way down your throat. You climax as the cum of the two strangers reaches your stomach, making you feel full and immensely satisfied. They pull from your mouth and wipe the remaining mess across your face. Full, but far from satisfied, you hunt for more men to pleasure you. When you locate a massive, tauric man, the first thing you do is lean over a nearby railing and raise your tail. A short time later, you're crying out confused nothings, as his multi-foot-long horse cock batters into your stomach, bulging it for all to see. You push back into each thrust, trying to convince him to ruin you. He's all too happy to oblige; he smashes into you until his balls swat your reddening ass, and you're sure you can feel the flared head of his cock somewhere in your throat. His orgasm sends cum barreling up your neck, pouring out through your mouth and nose with enough force to drench a few horrified onlookers. The tauric man tells you his name as he withdraws from your ruined hole, but you forget it instantly. As you struggle to right yourself, your belly several times heavier than the rest of you, every orifice leaking strangers' cum, you immediately spot another well-hung man. Each step you take towards him makes a lewd splatting sound, your fur utterly saturated with seed. . . . Hours later, the drug's effect wears off, and you're immediately in agony. In your low-IQ state, you decided to suck the biggest cock you could find, and its owner is currently balls-deep in your bulging throat. You whimper and whine, your protests muffled by the man's throbbing cock, and tears form in your eyes as you feel him emptying his balls into your quickly-rounding stomach. He pulls out, allowing you to see that the cock you just took was barbed and at least three feet long. He kisses your pregnant-looking body and leaves you to recover, but not before complimenting you for being such a good fleshlight. Now able to think for the first time in several hours, you're left to ponder just how many acts of debauchery you must have blundered into. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Cough and splutter" , "Hedon")</td> <td>[[Get another dose->Happy drug - Bad end]]</td> </tr> </table>}

You wait for your order, but instead, the android only looks at you expectantly. It's only after a few moments that you notice his nipples are leaking. When you hesitate to draw closer, he explains that your order is waiting for you. With immense trepidation, you approach the android and lean in towards his chiselled pecs. The entire action feels obscene and only worsens when, tired of your slowness, the android elects to force you through the process. With unnatural strength, he grips your head and pulls your face to one of his leaking pecs. He commands you to start drinking, and after some reluctance, you do as you're told. You whimper in confusion as milky, slightly sweet fluid pumps into your mouth, ever so slightly faster than you can gulp down. Your cheeks bulge, and eventually, some of the liquid even pours from your nose. By the time the android releases you, coughing and spluttering, the effects of the drug are already taking effect. You let out a confused gasp as brand new softness bubbles beneath the breast of your jumpsuit, and you're soon hurrying to remove it before your new breasts cause any damage to the fabric. You stagger around, overwhelmed as entirely new nerves and neural pathways form in a matter of seconds. Your new breasts are big enough to upset your balance, heavy enough to ruin your balance, constantly leaking like a pair of doughy faucets, and almost painfully sensitive to the touch. Your mind racing, and your new breasts so sensitive that you can barely think, you stumble out onto the street. As you go, the android pharmacist tries to tell you something—but you ignore it. With no other options aside from waiting out the transformation, you begin desperately staggering towards your ship. Unfortunately, you don't make it very far... With your breasts spilling out from your jumpsuit and spurting constant streams of milk, you're quickly spotted by the musclebound denizens of the planet. You're almost immediately surrounded, and a group of complete strangers offer to "help". You blurt out an embarrassed refusal but immediately change your mind when one of the men absent-mindedly touches your breast, the mind-shattering sensitivity making you produce a loud, involuntary, and immensely embarrassing "Moo!". The men take turns squeezing at your breasts, each trying to coax the loudest, sluttiest noise from your lips. You soon find that your jumpsuit has been thrown aside, although you've been far too preoccupied to notice. When a man grips your breasts from behind and lodges himself deep in your guts, the latter sensation is barely noticeable compared to the mind-shattering bliss of having your new breasts groped. You cry out wordlessly as the crowd of men intensify their exploration of your breasts. Groping, squeezing, licking, kissing, biting—nothing is beyond them, and soon they're flat-out suckling on your breasts, gulping down litres of your milk in a horny, hungry feeding-frenzy. You gasp and whine, barely noticing as the man fucking your ass empties his balls in you, only to be replaced by another stranger. Instead, you're singularly focused on the sensual assault your breasts are receiving. Over the course of an hour, dozens upon dozens of men take advantage of your gigantic, leaky tits. A few men thrust their cocks between them, forcing you to suck them off while they fuck your chest. Fewer still go a step further, and you're left crying out in blinding, brain-shattering pleasure when they literally press their cocks to your nipples and begin fucking your breasts, bloating your already milk-ballooned tits with their cum. As the almost painfully intense sensations of the men playing with your breasts reach their peak, one of the men asks you to do something for him. It's not a difficult request by any means, but it is one that puts a deep red in your cheeks, sets your heart aflutter, and that you know will change you forever. "Moo for me," he asks, squeezing fresh torrents of milk from your breasts. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Moo->Lactation drug - Bad end]]</td> <td>[[Refuse->Refuse to moo]]</td> </tr> </table>}

(if: $Experienced_BadEnd_Beach_Sunbathing is false or (random:1,3) is 3)[With the sun warming your fur and making you feel drowsy, you decide that you're going to sunbathe for a little while. You quickly find a free spot, and after looking around and spotting no shortage of naked sunbathers, you remove your jumpsuit and lie stomach-down on the sand. For about 15 minutes, you enjoy the warm sun on your back. You're just on the verge of falling asleep when a large shadow disrupts your relaxation. When you look up towards the shadow's source, you're met by a colossal Ursid; a bear man. He's ridiculously muscular, although he also sports a wobbling beer belly. You're red-faced as your mind immediately wanders to how much stronger this stranger is than you are, or perhaps how he could crush you flat if he happened to fall on you. With a booming voice, the goliath towering above you begins insisting that you'll burn if you don't use some sunscreen—conveniently offering to rub some on your back. Too intimidated to decline, you accept the muscle-gut bear's offer, and he's quick to straddle across your rear. You wince as he massages sunscreen into your back, having to adjust the movements of his meaty hands to be more gentle multiple times, genuinely unsure how to interact with someone so much more fragile than he is. His roaming hands, along with his weight, keep you awake while he makes sure you're in no danger of burning. Slowly, however, you realise that the man's attention is drifting down your back, and he's soon rubbing and squeezing at your exposed ass. He slips his hands over your hips, gently as first, but soon explores what it feels like to grip them in earnest. You gasp, unsure what he's thinking... although you assume he's fantasising about situations where he could make good use of gripping your hips. As you consider what he's thinking, you suddenly feel warmth dribbling on your lower back. Immediately, you know it's precum. Your mind races as you scramble for an excuse, an opportunity to protest—you can't just lie here and let him have his way with you, can you? You stumble over your words as the Ursid rears back, and you soon feel the head of his ridiculously girthy cock pressing firmly to your hole. It's far, far too big for you to comfortably handle. Even when he actively pushes against your back door, his cock is simply too girthy to fit. Despite the discomfort of the man's repeating attempts to cram his meat inside you, you're briefly relieved that it doesn't seem to fit... until that is, he changes his strategy. You whimper as he leans forward, his heavy stomach pinning you to the sand and, using his own body weight and gravity as the force for his sexual battering ram, he smashes his tree-trunk cock into your ass. Even if he wasn't crushing you, you'd be unable to scream. You're pretty sure he just pushed so far into you that it physically forced the air from your lungs. All you can do is cry out, completely silent, your face contorted into an expression of surprise, agony and shame. Between your sudden lover's massive stature, rippling muscles and expansive gut, you're soon completely hidden from view. To onlookers, it just looks as if the man is grinding against the floor when in reality, he's using you like a Vulpis cock-sleeve. With each movement the bear makes, you're left squirming and shuddering beneath him, powerless to escape as he stretches your insides and fucks you with wanton lust. By the time he's pushed in so far that his balls are slapping against your bruised ass, you're barely conscious. . . . By the time the man finally gets bored of you, he's dumped no less than five torrents of cum into your now distended stomach. Your belly is so full and bloated that the sand beneath it has shifted. The cool sand enclosing your pregnant-looking belly is little relief, however, as your entire body throbs with pain. The man climbs off of you, his arm-thick cock pulling from your battered insides with a horrific squelch. His seed floods out of your gaping ass, despite your best efforts to stop it. Your Kegels have been utterly mashed into submission, and there's nothing you can do to stop leaking liquid evidence of your unfortunate tryst with the horny bear. Before leaving, the Ursid thanks you for helping him sunbathe and expresses pride that you didn't burn. Seemingly, the fact you didn't get much sun because you were pinned and fucked senseless beneath him doesn't cross his mind. When he leaves, you stagger to your feet. Litres of cum leak out of your sloshing insides with each step, and you're left desperately trying to hide your gaping, leaking ass from the other beachgoers. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Lie down again->Beach sex - Bad end]]</td> <td>(link-goto: "Hurry to leave" , "Hedon")</td> </tr> </table>}]{ }(else:)[You wander along the beach looking for a comfortable place to lie down... but you instead find one of the most perverse sights you've ever laid your eyes on. Ahead of you, lying insensate in the sand, lies one of your past selves. They're fucked silly and gasping, gripping handfuls of sand as they slur out desperate requests for someone, anyone, to fuck them. With considerable reluctance but far too horny to stop yourself, you're soon throwing aside your jumpsuit and lying atop your past self. Their plush bubble butt feels incredible against your hips, and you're soon grinding your hardening member between their ass cheeks. No later than you're able, you're thrusting your erect cock into your clone's well-used hole. You're immediately aware of just how much abuse your poor past self has endured simply because of how loose they are. Their once tight ass is now constantly gaping, and you genuinely struggle to enjoy their hole now that it's stretched for monstrously hung lovers. Still, you're able to derive just enough pleasure from his gaping, ruined hole that you're eventually able to knot-fuck him. He gasps and cries out as you smash into him, and you feel him tensing up repeatedly as he blows pathetic loads into the sand. Your knot never quite finds purchase in your past self's ruined guts, but that doesn't stop you from reaching climax. You bite his shoulder completely on a reflex and empty your balls into your former vessel's insides. He whimpers and thanks you as you do, never quite realising who you are. You hurriedly yank your knot from his insides, eager to leave before anyone realises what you've done. As you rise to your feet, you're embarrassed to find that a queue has formed. Dozens of men much larger than you, with girthy, unnaturally huge cocks, stand waiting to ruin your paste self's hole. They seem pleased that your pathetic cock—at least by their standards—has left him tight enough for them to use. As you turn to leave, you soon hear your clone crying out in fucked-silly pleasure, although their words are soon drowned out by the sound of meaty, wet slapping sounds. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Hide your shame" , "Hedon")</td> </tr> </table>}]

Although you have your reservations, you're soon convinced to take part in a game of volleyball. There are three participants before you, a Procyon in need of a teammate and a duo of muscular Lunisians. The Procyon gives you a high five as you wander around to his side of the net and prepare for the match. "Don't worry, little dude!" your new teammate says, completely unprompted. "I'm sure they'll go easy on us now you're here!" You're unsure if that was reassurance or an insult... although the meat-headed man probably meant it without any malice. Still, puts fleeting redness in your cheeks and makes you want to prove that you can hold your own against the much larger men. From the first serve onwards, however, it becomes clear how utterly outmatched you are. The three men are stronger than you, faster than you, and unlike you, they can take the beating that playing against such physically-gifted individuals entails. You spend most of your time dodging the ball rather than charging towards it, worried it'll cause you genuine injury. You quickly come to realise that the physical Adonises of Hedon simply outmatch you in every single way, save for intellect. When you're finally struck, it comes from a surprising source. Rather than being hit by the ball, which you expected, your downfall comes in the form of an accidental hip-check from your massive teammate. He bumps into you relatively lightly, but the difference in your weights has you flying through the air and crashing to the ground. There's darkness for a few moments, and you wonder if you've been knocked out... until your teammate pulls your face from the sand, where your snout had become buried due to the force of the impact. He picks you up like you're made of paper, cradling you and worriedly asking if you're ok. You tell him that you're fine, although a little bruised, and he immediately forfeits the match. With guilt on his face, he ashamedly babbles on about "value" and "quid-pro-quo". It seems that despite his residency on Hedon, he still values the Procyon culture and its give-and-take beliefs. He asks you, red-faced if he can "make it up to you". His apologies seem genuine, but his request is undeniably adult in nature. Despite your sore body, you're too curious to refuse. You agree to his request, and he's suddenly carrying you towards a nearby beach hut. He lays you on the exposed sand floor of the beach hut and then sets about stripping off your jumpsuit. He seems genuinely surprised by what he finds, rubbing his palm down your middle. When your cock climbs from its sheath and grows to full mast, he seems something between disappointed and curious. "How are you so tiny? I can't fuck you like this..." he whimpers out. "I'd split you in half!" Crimson fills your cheeks, the blatant debauchery of the man's words taking you by surprise. Suddenly, however, the man bolts upright. He slams his fist into the opposite palm and announces that he's had a fantastic idea. You let out a pained gasp as the man clumsily straddles your lap, seemingly forgetting how much larger than you he is. There's no time to ask questions, as the man immediately lowers himself on your member. You cry out in confused excitement as the hunky raccoon easily takes you to the hilt, his insides so tight that they threaten to crush your manhood. Were he any tighter, you'd be experiencing pain rather than pleasure. You're left breathless as he builds a rhythm, the downwards portions of each movement forcing you into a crater in the sand. In no time at all, your inflated knot is slapping against his muscular ass. He's so tight, however, that there's genuine difficulty pushing it inside him. When he finally does, by means of simply riding you harder, it feels like he could crush your knot to dust with an errant flex. Overwhelmed, you tense up and blow a massive load in his guts. Your orgasm lasts considerably longer than you're used to... but the man seems disappointed. That same guilt from before flashes on his face, and you suddenly realise that your orgasms are puny compared to what the residents of Hedon consider "normal". He misunderstands this and immediately apologises, telling you that he'll make you cum until you're properly satisfied. Too overstimulated to speak, you're powerless as the man begins his quest to make you cum as much as a resident of Hedon, something you're not even sure you can do. For the next few hours, he pins you down and rides you with seemingly endless vigour, and in return, you weakly blow your pathetic loads into his ass. He's never satisfied, instead growing more and more despondent that you won't "cum properly". It's a further 3 hours of constant, mind-shattering bliss before the man finally seems content. You don't remember how many times he's made you cum. With a single, muscular hand, he begins pleasuring himself, and he's soon blowing loads that narrowly miss you. You weakly turn your head and are immediately concerned to find that his load narrowly missed your head... and left a cum-filled crater where it struck the sand. In the crater, there's considerably more cum than you've been able to produce in the last several hours. The man huffs with satisfaction, dribbling the rest of his load over your naked form. His seed is so warm that it practically hurts, but you're elated when the unending warmth soothes your aching body. You gasp and whimper, satisfied and sore. What an incredible lover this man is... you're genuinely sad that it's over. Fortunately for you, but unfortunately for your physical wellbeing, he immediately begins riding you again. You wince and whimper as he milks additional orgasms out of you with alarming ease, and you're terrified as you remember all the men of Hedon have greatly exaggerated sexual stamina. You're in for a long ride. . . . Hours later, you've been reduced to a huffing, gasping, fucked-silly mess. Your balls are completely, utterly empty. You've "forgiven" him several dozen times, but he continues milking you until he's 100% sure that you're even. When he pulls off of your knot with a noise, not unlike a champagne cork, you can see that your cock is lightly bruised. Barely managing to string a sentence together, you tell the man that you completely forgive him... and he's ecstatic that the scales have been balanced. He gives you a sloppy, completely unprompted kiss before leaving. You lie alone for some time, too spent and bruised to move. The oblivious hunk didn't realise how rough he was being with you, and it takes you quite a while before you're able to stagger to your feet. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>(link-goto: "Accept his apology" , "Hedon")</td></tr> </table>}

(set: $Mechanist_SeenResults to true){ }"So..." you pry. "Did my brain scans help you figure anything out?" The Mechanist looks up at you, a tinge of irritation on their mechanical face. "The hunk of metal in your head ruined my results, but I've had some success transferring your ego to other vessels." The cybernetic snake man speaks with casual confidence, but his words immediately cause you to panic. "W-wait, what? What do you mean by that?" you blurt out. He pulls on a nearby sheet, which falls away to reveal, much to your horror, what appears to be a cybernetic recreation of your body. Red-faced, you notice that many points of the android's body are exaggerated, particularly its hips, rear, and lips. Where it should have a cock, it instead has an additional aperture for lovemaking. It appears to be inactive, at least for the moment. "You copied my brain scans... into a sex bot?!" you blurt out, enraged and horrified. The snake man looks confused. "Well, yeah, what's the problem? It's not /you/, and if you wanted your brain scans treated well, maybe you shouldn't have sold them to a random guy you just met." You want to argue more, but he makes a good point. You watch the android, a bimbofied version of yourself, wondering what kind of a life they'll have. "Wanna try them out?" the cyborg suddenly asks. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Try them out->Sexbot - Demo]]</td> <td>(link-goto: "No thanks" , "Mechanist")</td> </tr> </table>}

Hoping to find some relief from the scorching sun, you make your wash to the shoreline and step into the shallows. The water is pleasantly cold, and you're soon striding out until the water cools everything up to your chin. The water on Hedon feels thicker than on other worlds, if only just by a little bit. You float more easily than you're used to, and your time floating a short distance from the beach is far more relaxing than you would have expected. It's so relaxing, in fact, that you fail to notice when your feet drift from the sand beneath you. Your first indication is when you realise that the beach is further than you remember. You make a genuine effort to approach the shoreline but find that for all your efforts, you only seem to drift further and further out to sea. Panic grips you when you call out for help, but nobody on the beach seems to notice. You desperately struggle towards the shore, but it's no good. You've only succeeded in tiring yourself out. Your limbs are growing sore now, and your panicked breathing has disrupted the buoyancy you previously enjoyed. Coughing and spluttering when you accidentally inhale salt water, you're soon slipping beneath the surface. Your fears ebb away as the light begins to fade, and just as you're accepting your fate, something suddenly grabs you. In an instant, you are pulled to the surface, where you gasp, and cough as the sea air floods your lungs. Reflectively, when you feel something solid ahead of you, you pull yourself tight to it. It feels like a boulder, but as the darkness leaves your vision, you're able to see that you're actually holding onto an impressively muscular man. He's a selach, a massive one. His ridiculously toned, power-looking body betrays his role as the lifeguard. With worry dancing across his face, he apologises profusely for taking so long to reach you... explaining that another man had caught his eye, and he'd gotten distracted. Despite his negligence, you have nothing but gratitude for him. With soft tears in your eyes, still shaken by your experience, you hug the man tightly and thank him for saving you. Pulling him so tight, you're able to feel just how shaped each of his muscles are... and much to your shame, despite having almost drowned, you're beginning to get awfully infatuated by the muscular shark. Now feigning desperation, you wrap your arms around the man's neck and your legs around his waist. In truth, you just wanted another excuse to hold him close. You're left gasping a moment later, however, when the shark man becomes embarrassed, and his duo of now erect cocks begin to press against your exposed rear. With some trepidation, you lower yourself on one of them, letting out slutty gasps as you take one of his shafts into your needy hole. The man holds you gently in his powerful arms, and his tenderness leaves you feeling more enamoured with each passing second. You feel a need to reward him for saving you and immediately know where to start. You pull off his cock, much to his confusion, before forcing yourself to take both of his members at once. It's a tight fit, one that has you whimpering out horny little half-words as in after in of his throbbing duo fill you. Despite the discomfort, you press on, especially when you see how worked up the man is becoming. Your resolve is soon rewarded when both his dicks are completely buried inside you, and you feel his apple-sized balls against your needy ass. You kiss his cheek and tell him to ruin you, too horny to think about self-preservation, and he's more than happy to indulge you. You cry out in ecstasy as your saviour suddenly begins jackhammering his duo of thick, throbbing cocks in and out of your stretched hole. You plant your muzzle to his collarbone and huff out desperate requests for him to ruin you, and he seems all too happy to comply. Despite fucking you in the middle of the ocean, the double-cocked shark man is easily able to bring you to orgasm. You tense up and cry out before pumping whispy, relatively pathetic strands of your seed into the water. At the same time, he pulls you into a sudden, passionate kiss, and you feel his cocks erupting in your guts, bloating you so full that you begin to feel physically heavy by the time he's done. You slump against his muscular chest as consciousness fades, the combination of your accident and the mind-shattering sex proving too much for you to endure. As you drift off, you know you're in good hands. . . . You wake up an unknown amount of time later, lying on the warm sands of the beach. Red-faced, you hurry to sit up, and you're relieved to discover that your jumpsuit has been lain over you to protect your modesty. Rubbing your bruised behind and casting your gaze into the distance, you're briefly able to spot the lifeguard's fin before it dips beneath the waves. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>(link-goto: "Crawl onto the beach" , "Hedon")</td></tr> </table>}

So ballooned full of cum that you struggle to walk, you stagger towards the gym's showers. Much to your embarrassment, your sloshing stomach is loud enough to draw the attention of other gymgoers. Hoots and hollers are thrown your way as you carry your pregnant-looking belly with alarming difficulty. You're relieved, however, when you do reach the showers, and the warm water instantly begins to soothe your cum-filled belly. Unfortunately... your relief doesn't last long. Having unintentionally broadcast your predicament while struggling your way to the shower, it isn't long before someone joins you. You're suddenly aware of an imposing figure standing right behind you, and when you turn, you're brought face-to-chest with a massive Ovar. The pseudo-avian man's muscles glisten with sweat, and his unsteady breaths seem to indicate that he finished a workout only a few moments prior. Without a single word, the hyper-muscular space raptor forces you to your knees. You understand immediately that he intends to use you, perhaps claiming you as a post-workout prize. When you open your mouth to protest, you immediately realise that was a mistake. You gag as the sweat-drenched Ovar grinds his fat cock past your lips, brutally gripping your hair and ensuring that he's soon bulging your throat. With tears in your eyes, there's nothing you can do but try to relax your throat while the man's thick manhood throbs inside it. With no other options, you just try to satisfy the man as quickly as possible. You reach out to heft and squeeze at his apple-sized, heavy balls and are immediately rewarded when the man tenses up and pumps a load down your throat. You're gripped with nausea as the man fills your already overfull belly and, much to your horror, immediately starts on round two. A moment later, you're unable to fondle the man's balls... because they're smashing against your chin. At the apex of each thrust, your muzzle is buried in the man's crotch, your nostrils flooding with his intoxicating, masculine scent. He's relentless, and with each climax, his efforts only seem to intensify. If he were to facefuck you with any more enthusiasm, you're sure he'd break your nose. By the time he finally withdraws from your throat, spurting a few final ropes over your gasping, fucked-silly face, you feel like you're close to bursting. He hefts your heavy stomach, which is so full it's now almost completely solid, and calls you a cum dump before leaving. You groan and whimper, now alone, and struggle to clean yourself when your stomach is so heavy you can't stand. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Rest for a while->Shower - Bad end]]</td> <td>[[Try to leave->Shower - Clean up]]</td> </tr> </table>}

You stumble into the locker rooms, barely able to stay upright. You're exhausted by the weight of your cum-filled belly and immediately begin looking around for the cleaning drone. Unfortunately, you quickly realise that the locker room is full of sweaty, post-workout men. Their muscles glisten with sweat, and when they turn their attention towards you, you're suddenly surrounded on all sides by walls of muscle. Your mind spins, thanks to a combination of the men's combined musk and the realisation of what a lewd situation you've walked into. With promises of inflating you even further, you're soon gasping as a man takes you from behind. The bizarre exercises from before ensure you're relatively loose, but the man's sudden, aggressive rhythm still puts tears in your eyes. You wordlessly cry out, your lips forming an involuntary "O" shape, which is immediately filled by the cock of another one of the men. Spitroasted between the two men, you're humiliated when their taste and smell begin making you horny. You should hate this, being humiliated and fucked senseless without a choice... but deep down, you adore it. It isn't long before the first two men fill your throat and ass, respectively, and you're briefly free to cough and splutter as they lie you on your back. A moment later, the second pair of men are stretching your ass and bulging your throat, intent on adding to the excessive quantity of seed stretching your insides. Dozens of complete strangers take turns fucking your holes until you're legitimately worried that you'll burst. With each load that shoots into your stomach, your belly distends a few inches more. If not for the cocks constantly plugging your throat and ass, you'd be leaking like a faucet. Your face is flushed bright red but obscured from view while it's being fucked. Much to your embarrassment, you realise you've been almost painfully hard throughout this ideal. When the men pull from your abused and thoroughly-bred body, they take a moment to spurt the final ropes of cum across your reddened, close-to-bursting gut. The warm steamy loads relieve a tiny portion of the discomfort but leave you feeling even more ashamed of yourself. With your dignity completely obliterated, wracked by shame, and completely in love with your bizarre situation, you spurt a load of your own over your cum-ballooned stomach. Now satisfied, you're abandoned by the gang of men. With redness in your cheeks, you even watch a few of them returning to their workouts, seemingly having bloated you full without even breaking a sweat. You struggle to move at all, your body pinned beneath your own cum-inflated belly. It feels at least half a dozen times heavier than the rest of you, and you're utterly ashamed at having been turned into such an obscene cum balloon. Unable to move, fucked senseless and consumed by shame, darkness overtakes you. . . . When you blink awake an unknown amount of time later, you're relieved to find that your body has returned to normal. Hovering a short distance away is a personnel drone, currently in the process of retracting tubes and pumps back into itself. You can only assume that the drone you were looking for did actually find you eventually, and while you were completely fucked silly, it drained and cleaned you. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Hurry to leave->Locker room - Clean up]]</td> <td>[[Catch your breath->Locker room - Bad end]]</td> </tr> </table>}

Although the device is clearly malfunctioning, you decide to risk it anyway. When you place the pleasure visor over your eyes, you're immediately struck by a wave of intense disorientation. You fall backwards onto the bed, unsure what's happening. Ahead of you, a simulation begins to form... mostly. Aside from the immediate sensory glitches that leave you wincing and dizzy, it seems that the headset is having a hard time constructing anything cohesive. The environment flickers and distorts, showing you dozens of different locations. A locker room, dense forests, a saloon, and many others that you can't quite make out. The ambient sounds and smells of each location overwhelm your senses, and you hurriedly try to pry off your headset. Unfortunately, despite your best efforts, you just can't seem to articulate your hands as you intend to. The best you're able to do is weakly swat at your chin and face between sudden moments where your entire body falls involuntarily limp. In the fractured simulation, you now have company. You watch as dozens of potential partners flicker in and out of existence, sometimes combining, sometimes disappearing completely. Each of your possible lovers is different from the rest, but there's one thing they have in common... the desire to ruin you. You half-perceive some of the overlapping simulations becoming physical, and you're immediately crying out in confused ecstasy. Through fragments of each simulation, you feel countless different sensations, all beginning at once. Dozens of different experiences begin burning into your synapses as your mind reels from countless, simultaneous acts of debauchery. The hands of what feels like a hundred different men grope and rub at every inch of your body, and each feels utterly unique. You gag and splutter as you feel a knotted cock push into your throat while simultaneously feeling a barbed cock, a horse cock, and a dozen other manhoods doing the exact same thing as well. Each sensation is distinct and separate, but all flood your brain at once. Similarly, you feel your rear being used by several different men at once. You feel a knot stretching you wide, a flare bulging your stomach, barbs grinding against your prostate, a duo of cocks gyrating into you with intense fury, and countless others. You feel your mind being bruised by the overwhelming sensations, all of which would have been intense enough on their own, never mind collapsed together. You're unsure when you first climax, but it quickly becomes a sensation that repeatedly batters through you, never with more than a few seconds in between. You're drooling now, trying and failing to hold on to one experience. Further attempts to remove the headset fail before they even begin, your body twitching and writhing involuntarily, your nerves practically burning with pleasure. There's nothing you can do but try to endure it, but you've already forgotten your own name. . . . Hours later, the batteries of your malfunctioning headset finally run out. You lie in a puddle of your own cum, twitching and insensate. Drool pours out of your mouth, which will never form a cohesive word again. When you continue to lie there, unmoving, for another few hours, your ship's AI eventually decides to check up on you. With mechanical appendages, it pulls the now inert pleasure visor from your head. What it finds beneath the helmet is your face, vacant and unresponsive. No scans are required for your fate to be determined. Having endured hundreds of times more stimulation than a mind could bear, your brain simply gave out. Not a shred of your personality or intellect remains. The few remaining intact neurons you possess are broadcasting in a closed loop, causing your husk of a body to twitch and orgasm occasionally, the immense magnitude of what you've endured permanently burned into your shattered mind. Your ruined state apparently, and with no hope of curing you, your ship's AI manually activates your black box. A new you is grown in the adjacent room, and this version of you is haphazardly dragged towards the cryo pods, still limp, twitching, and cumming. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>(link-goto: ". . ." , "Ship - Respawn")</td></tr> </table>}

When you pick up your pleasure visor, it suddenly lets out a string of pained-sounding beeps. You hurry to hold the visor at arm's length when it suddenly spits out a small shower of sparks as well. You should probably let your ship's AI take a look at this before you use it again. It can't be safe to wear such an obviously malfunctioning piece of equipment... especially when it interfaces directly with your brain. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Wait for repairs" , "Ship - Bunks")</td> <td>(link-goto: "Use it anyway" , "Pleasure Visor bad ending")</td> </tr> </table> }

You feel increasingly amped up from the booming music and are soon shimmying your way onto the dance floor. You have some reservations, feeling embarrassed at first, but quickly realise that nobody is judging you. In fact, you're unsure if anyone can see you at all. You're at least a few feet shorter than the next shortest man on the dance floor. You go so unnoticed that, shortly after taking your place among the other dancing men, you're sandwiched between two of them. You cry out and struggle as you're painfully squashed between their toned, rock-hard bodies. In your desperation, your hands involuntarily push and squeeze at them, accidentally brushing their ample manhoods in the process. Your desperate attempts to escape are, unfortunately for you, misunderstood to be sexual advances. Your protests are drowned out by the loud music as your clothes are torn away, leaving you in a similar state of undress as many of the others surrounding you. You're easily lifted by one of the men who squashed you, your muzzle falling firmly between the man's impressive pecs. His masculine scent floods your nostrils and makes you dizzy. You have only a short moment to enjoy it, however, before the man pushes his thick manhood into your uncovered rear. Your whimpers and whines go unheard as the man quickly begins pumping his cock into you in time with the music. There's no care for your well-being, your insides spasming around the man's girthy cock as he batters into you with increasing rhythm. Much to your horror, the tempo of the music gradually increases, and soon your stomach is bulging multiple times a second to match it. When the music reaches its climax, so too does your lover. You spurt thick, involuntary ropes into the crowd, who all seem utterly unphased, while the man jackhammering into your ass empties what must be gallons of cum inside you. As the song draws to a close, you're finally allowed to stagger from the dancefloor. A goopy, embarrassing trail marks your short journey from your impromptu lover. You're sore, beyond full... and immensely satisfied. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto:"Regain your tempo","Hedon - Night club")</td> </tr> </table>}

{(set: $HedonNightclub_ProvenYourself to true) }Desperate to gain entry, you beg the muscular canine to reconsider. When your initial attempts to convince him are fruitless, you practically beg him for a chance to prove yourself. At your request, he cocks an eyebrow. A perverse smile creeps across his face, and he tells you that maybe there's a way you can convince him after all. With redness in your cheeks, you allow the goliath of a canine to lead you into a nearby alley. No later than you're both out of sight, the much larger man sets about removing your clothes. He sinks in the features of your body with obvious lust and with a fascination that makes you feel equal parts desirable and out of place. When you stand naked in front of him, he only has one comment to make. "Fuck..." he blurts out. "The guys inside would break you in minutes..." You watch, red-faced, as the man undoes his belt and zipper. When his cock finally spills out from beneath his clothes, you're shocked at how huge his sheath and balls are. As his cock bursts free from his sheath, you're horrified and aroused to find that his manhood has been gene-modded. His cock is Lunisian in shape, albeit much bigger, and covered in countless tiny bumps and barbs. When you consider how it must feel, a shiver runs up your spine. You turn, bend over, and brace yourself against the wall of the alley. You're taken off guard when the man suddenly grips the base of your tail, and even more so when the tip of his cock squashes against your hole. Your breaths are unsteady already. You can feel every single one of his barbs, and the sensation is like nothing you've experienced before. With each inch he slides into you, you grow less and less capable of composure. When the underside of his manhood grinds against your prostate, you let out an unholy moan. Your half-erect cock leaks pre cum like a faucet. Inch after inch, he stretches you wider and wider, his barbs becoming more pronounced as your insides struggle to accommodate his immense size. It's incredible, delicious torture, one that only intensifies as he, still gripping your tail, begins to slam into you with an increasingly quick rhythm. Within a few minutes, his barbed knot is slapping against your reddening ass cheeks. You wordlessly beg him to push it inside you, losing yourself to the sensation of his truly alien cock. As your monstrous lover's orgasm approaches, you're taken off guard when he effortlessly lifts you from the ground. Arms wrapped around your middle with almost painful force, he smashes into your insides with brutal force. Each thrust knocks a breathless gasp from your face, where your features are contorted into one of the sluttiest expressions you've ever made. Moments later, his morning star of a knot is stretching you wide, distending your aching innards with ease as it anchors you in place. You feel every barb as it grinds through your guts, and a moment later, you feel his cock pulsing. He bottoms out inside you, grunting into the back of your neck as he blows a ridiculously voluminous load inside you. You spurt your own load against the wall of the alley, although it's utterly pathetic by comparison. Where you sent only a few ropes through the air, your lover is pumping litre after litre into your stomach, each throb of his cock causing your stomach to push a few more inches outwards. By the time his orgasm fades, you look positively pregnant. Your skin is reddened and bruised from being so stretched. Your stomach and insides ache, tensing involuntarily from the filling they've just endured. "Not bad, slut", your lover sighs, his words preceding a soft kiss between your shoulder blades. "I-I," you start, but are horrified when cum pours up your throat. Your cheeks bulge as your mouth fills with the man's hot, salty cream, and you're soon coughing and spluttering as the torrent slowly subsides. "Might've overdone it," he says in response to your embarrassing situation. "No way you can go in like this... Let me help you out". Without further discussion, the man grips your shoulder and ass cheek with opposite hands, leveraging your body until, after multiple seconds of pained stretching, his barbed knot pops from your aching hole. You fall against the wall of the alley, bracing yourself. When you shakily turn to face your lover, he places his hand on your spherical stomach. "Err... Sorry about this," he says and suddenly pushes his hand against your stomach with extreme force. To put it delicately, you are temporarily reduced to a living cum fountain. The man's brutish method causes the litres of cum filling your stomach to be violently ejected through your ass, mouth, and even your nose. A few seconds later, you're lying in a puddle of cum. You feel almost painfully empty, and the obscene nature of what just happened to you is almost too much to bear. A few of Dionysus' drones hang overhead, having immediately detected the mess you made. The bouncer chuckles down at you, shaking his head. "Once Dee's done cleaning you up, you're free to head inside. Turns out you're a lot more durable than you look!" You're really not sure if that was supposed to be a compliment or not, although it didn't feel like one. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Stagger inside->Hedon - Night club]]</td> <td>(link-goto:"Leave","Hedon")</td> </tr> </table>}

Exploring the nightclub, you're immediately taken off guard by how loud the music is. You can feel the thumping, bassy tunes in your bones. On a nearby dancefloor, dozens of muscular men are dancing, all in various stages of undress. There are private booths on the edges of the room, where patrons appear to be holding casual conversations. You're confused for a few moments until spotting noise-cancellation symbols above each booth. You're genuinely impressed by the futuristic booths, which appear to completely isolate the patrons inside from the loud music. The booths are only "private" insofar as the separation of audio, however, and you can see that a few men in the booths are mid-coitus. The juxtaposition of advanced technology and good, old-fashioned perversion is a stark reminder of what kind of planet you're exploring. At the centre of the nightclub is an impressive, futuristic-looking bar. Large mechanical arms restock and prepare hundreds of different drinks, apparently made special for each visitor. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Dance floor->Night club - Dance floor]]</td> <td>[[Flirt->Night club - Hookups]]</td> <td>[[Get a drink->Night club - Drinks]](if: $ContentWarnings is "High")[ 😵 ]</td> </tr> <tr> <td></td> <td>(link-goto: "Leave" , "Hedon")</td> <td></td> </tr> </table>}

Rather than continuing into the building, you decide to have some fun with the bouncer instead. With slight redness in your cheeks, you ask the imposing canine if he'd like to fool around a little. A lewd grin forms on his face, and he's soon guiding you into the nearby alley. You quickly find yourself kneeling, back to the wall, your muzzle pressed firmly to the crotch of the man's trousers. As his intoxicating, masculine scent floods your lungs, you find yourself drooling involuntarily. So horny that your dexterity suffers, you clumsily hurry to undo his belt. When the fabric falls away, you whine as he grinds his sheath against your eager face, slathering pre cum across it. "Kiss it, slut," he barks down at you, and you immediately acquiesce. You press your lips to the soft flesh, kissing and teasing at the tip of his cock. You lose yourself the in the debauchery of what you're doing, so much so that you fail to notice him gripping your head and holding you in place. As his cock begins to grow and harden, it does so past your lips and soon down your throat. With tears in your eyes, you do your best to continue kissing, even as the man's knot begins to pry your jaw open. Just as you think he's going to knot you then and there, he abruptly pulls back. His knot escapes your mouth with an obscene "Pop!", and the additional foot or so of his throbbing meat pulls from your throat. Soon, he grinds his saliva-slick manhood against your face. Seeing it this close, you're able to appreciate just how bizarre it is. It appears Lunisian, canid in appearance, with a bitch-breaking knot as you'd expect. Every single inch of his cock, however, is covered in barbs and bumps, like those you'd expect from a more feline lover. Whatever the reason for his unique manhood, you're far more preoccupied with getting him to stuff it inside you. When you tell him this, through slurred, unsteady breaths, he's all too happy to oblige you. Opening your mouth in a wanton, slutty invitation to the much larger man, he immediately thrusts past your lips. You gag and splutter as he jackhammers into your face, soon bulging your throat. His barbs tickle your neck as he treats it like his personal fleshlight. As you get exactly what you wanted, you reach down to your crotch, rubbing at the tented fabric. By the time his knot is wetly slapping against your lips, you're already blowing a load inside your jumpsuit. Your muscles relax as you climax, including your throat, and the man rears back, grips your ears, and proceeds to smash his knot past your lips. Not only does he lodge it behind your teeth, but, much to your shock and immense arousal, he manages to lodge his knot directly in your throat. To a passerby, it looks like you're halfway through swallowing a pair of apples. His barbed knot in your throat, in no danger of going anywhere, the man reaches climax. You gag with each throb of his cock, and soon feel utterly nauseated as his cum bloats your stomach. Your arms go limp as the corners of your vision begin to darken. Much to your horror, the man's orgasm easily lasts longer than you can hold your breath. As you slip into unconsciousness, you are vaguely aware of your jumpsuit zipper bursting, your cum-ballooned, pregnant-looking stomach spilling out from between the fabric. You immediately blow a second load in your jumpsuit, but the world goes dark before your orgasm fades. . . . An unknown time later, you cough and splutter awake, sending a small waterfall of cum over your distended stomach. Your lover stands above you, his half-erect cock still throbbing. He is flanked by several Dionysus drones, each scanning you for signs of injury. There's worry on the man's face, which soon turns to relief when one of the nearby drones confirms your health. "Thanks for helping me blow off some steam, slut," your relieved lover says before placing a single, sloppy kiss on your cum-inflated stomach. You try to speak but only succeed in coughing up more cum. Ultimately you can do nothing but watch, embarrassed, as your lover leaves you to return to his job. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Stagger inside->Hedon - Night club]]</td> <td>(link-goto:"Leave","Hedon")</td> </tr> </table>}

Coming down from the prolonged, incredible sensory high of the pleasure-inducing drugs, you immediately return to the chem dispensary in search of more. You approach the android there and immediately begin to beg for more of the sensitivity-boosting liquid. He initially refuses your request but quickly relents when you offer him your body in return for another dose. Your desperation is beyond obvious, and the android wastes no time bending you over the front counter and pushing his synthetic cock into your plush rear. You grit your teeth as he grabs hold of your hips and begins to pump into you with unnatural strength and stamina. As the android's faux-manhood rearranges your guts, it drools an obscene amount of the pleasure-enhancing drug inside you. You quickly begin to orgasm with every thrust from the android, and he only stops pounding into you when you're on the verge of breaking. Your body is now so saturated with the pleasure-boosting drug that you can barely function, constantly climaxing from the slightest thing. You stagger outside, your thoughts crushed beneath the weight of the pleasure that now surges through you with every breath. Soon, you bump into a man, completely at random, and instantly fall to your knees. With tears in your eyes, you beg him to fuck you—to push the unbearable pleasure to even further heights. He's all too happy to oblige you. Your cheeks bulging, you gag and whine as the man grinds his girthy cock down your throat, each inch crushing another mind-shattering orgasm from your confused, drug-saturated body. By the time he's emptying the contents of his balls down your throat, you've already climaxed dozens of times... and your poor brain has almost completely burned out from the sheer pleasure. Ultimately, the man decides to keep you as his drooling, thoughtless little pet. You spend the rest of your days drooling cum from every orifice you possess in between being fucked by your new master and his friends. As your brain activity borders on zero, your black box finally activates. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: ". . ." , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table> (set: $Experienced_BadEnd_Drug_Pleasure to true) (display: "Image : MindBreak")}

Panicking, you throw a wild punch into the abdominals of one of the approaching men. Just moments ago, you'd been dominating him in every sense of the word... but now, having struck him with as much force as you could muster, you almost break your hand. Growing angrier by the second, it's not long before you suffer some massive karmic realignment. Your earlier cruelty is reciprocated a hundredfold when the men begin using you like a particularly disliked fleshlight, intent on teaching you once and for all just how far from an "alpha" you really are. You cry out muffled apologies around a duo of knots as they plug your throat, while three other knots squash and push past your ring, painfully stretching out your guts. The men spend the rest of the day utterly shattering your spirit. Up to three of them at a time jackhammer into your ruined asshole, they choke you out on their cocks and, most humiliating of all, they frequently use your muzzle as a glorified seat. Multiple times throughout your brutal treatment, you lap pathetically at the doughnut of a much larger man while his friends continue to stretch your hole far further than it has any hope of ever recovering from. By the time the sun sets over the city, so too does it set over your old life. Over these past few hours, you have been repeatedly forced to accept that you are nothing compared to other men. You've come to accept your incredible weakness as utterly inescapable and have resigned yourself to becoming the muscular men's bitch for the rest of your days. As the muscular men encircle you once more, and you fully admit what a pathetic little man you are, your black box activates... purely because it no longer has faith in this "you" accomplishing much of anything at all. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Submit" , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table> (set: $Experienced_BadEnd_Drug_Muscle to true)}

Too overwhelmed with pleasure to refuse, you immediately give in to the man's lewd request. "Moo..." you murmur out, gasping as the man roughly grips your milky breasts. "Louder," he commands, and your heart races. "Moo," you blurt out, although it's still far from convincing. The man furrows his brow, and you're left pleading and protesting as multiple men grip your heavy, milky tits and suddenly squeeze with all their might. You let out a whorish "Moo!" as torrents of milk arc from your breasts and strike the floor several metres ahead of you. A second moo follows the first as the men squeeze again and again, harder and harder each time. Suddenly, you feel a sharp pain in your left ass cheek, and you're horrified to find a man emptying the contents of a cow-patterned syringe into you. The effects are immediate. The men drinking from your breasts are soon unable to keep up with the volume of milk you produce, your tits growing larger by the second. Your chest aches from how full it now feels. It isn't long before your tits are so heavy and full that you are completely immobilised by them... not that you had any chances of escaping to begin with. Patches of your fur begin to both lighten and darken until your red fur has been replaced by cow-patterned splodges of white and black. Atop your head, a pair of cute, non-threatening horns appear. They betray your sex as male, if only barely. You let out an ashamed, muffled moo as a cock pushes down your throat and another grinds past your ring. Half a dozen men drink greedily from your heavy, mobility-ruining breasts, and for some reason, it feels really, really... really good. As you climax from the feeling of being completely, utterly used, the exhaustion from your predicament finally washes over you. The world goes dark. . . . You awaken an unknown time later and quickly find yourself bound by a series of leather straps, metal chains, and rigid barriers. You recognise your surroundings as a stall of some kind. Your chest is aching, and you're horrified to find that your milky breasts are now several times larger than the rest of you. On a nearby screen, the face of Dionysus suddenly appears. She apologises to your for your entrapment but explains that you have received a permanent dose of the lactation-enhancing drug. There are only a few facilities in the galaxy where you can live comfortably now, and were she to allow you to leave... your milky breasts would likely fill the volume of your ship within just a few hours. To prevent you from suffering a far worse fate, a decision has been made for you. One where you will spend the rest of your days on Hedon, providing milk for the citizens. You open your mouth to blurt out a refusal but find that the only sound you can produce is a moo. Dionysus watches you with simulated pity for a few moments before the nearby machines spring to life. Powerful suction cups attached to your hyper-inflated breasts begin to roughly siphon seemingly endless streams of milk from them. You gasp and cry out, your tongue lolling from your mouth, as the insane pleasure of the industrial milker immediately overwhelms you. Every few minutes, litres of gushing, full-fat milk are sucked from your aching breasts. Your erect cock throbs and spurts beneath you, throwing the less useful of the two liquids you now constantly leak to the ground below. Quickly, the sensations prove too much to bear. As your mind finally shatters and your black box activates, you can do nothing but let out a final, rapturous "Moo!". --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Submit" , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table> (set: $Experienced_BadEnd_Drug_Lactation to true)}

Having experienced the bliss that comes with a single-digit IQ, you hurriedly return to the chem dispensary and beg the android pharmacist to give you an even bigger dose. He declines, telling you that you're already pushing it and that a second dose would undoubtedly prove permanent. Undeterred and increasingly desperate, you continue to beg and whine, pleading with the android to give you the gift of stupidity. You can't bear the stress of your journey for a minute more, and you long for the doughy-headed, horny life that the stupidity-inducing drug offered you. Finally, he relents. His eyes glow a cold blue for a moment, and then Dionysus' face appears nearby. She asks you, matter-of-factly, if this is what you want. If you truly understand the gravity of sacrificing your intellect for a new life on Hedon. Without hesitation, you beg her to take you as a new resident. You tell her that she can make you as stupid and loyal as she likes. With both concern and contentment, she tells the pharmacist to give you whatever your heart desires. Her face disappears soon after, and the android approaches you with a smile on his face. He pulls you into the final kiss you will ever be able to perceive. The taste of the sweet, brain-obliterating liquid dances across your tongue, and you are briefly able to feel your thoughts and memories slipping away. In your final lucid moments, as you feel the dregs of your old life slipping away forever, you unashamedly blow a massive load in your jumpsuit—no longer burdened by embarrassment or worry. . . . You produce muffled gurgles as the cock pushing down your throat finally pokes from your ass. As his multi-foot member throbs inside you, pumping cum straight through you and out your ass, the taur lets out a satisfied grunt. It's only been a few hours since you purposefully turned yourself into an idiotic slut, but you're already pushing your body to obscene limits. Dionysus has already set about saturating your body with regenerative nanites, since you would've incurred serious injury over a dozen times without them. He expresses his desire to "Keep you", but you don't respond. It's not that you're unable to hear him or ignoring his words... you simply don't have the brain capacity to understand them. Your entire perception of the world has coalesced into a constant stream of sensations and pleasures, all done to you by men who are easily able to assert their wants over you. The tauric man affixes you to his underside with a series of straps and chains, ensuring that you will spend the rest of your days swaying beneath him, your body milking his flared cock without any participation on your part. With you affixed beneath him, the taur continues his daily routine. You remained impaled beneath the man for the rest of your days, reduced to an obscene piece of clothing... and about as intelligent as one. Your black box activates but transmits almost nothing. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Submit" , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table> (display: "Image : Hypno") (set: $Experienced_BadEnd_Drug_IQBGone to true)}

You’re so exhausted from the surprise ass-pounding you just received that you decide to rest for a while before attempting to stand. The man that fucked you has left you in such a ruined, gaping state that you can feel the warm sun and cool ocean breeze deep inside your bowels. Suddenly, you're crushed into the sand by a complete stranger, when they casually allow themselves to fall atop you. "Sweet, beach slut!" he excitedly blurts out, grinding his thick cock inside you. Before you have a chance to protest or to explain that you were an unfortunate victim—not a willing whore—he's already smashing into your bubble butt with almost hip-breaking force. Much to your shame, the sheer force of his thrusts have you leaking cum onto the sand beneath you. You gasp and moan involuntarily, producing whorish little noises that bring you immense embarrassment, and soon the man is unloading his duo of huge, heavy balls into your poor hole. Just as suddenly as he appeared, the man suddenly pulls from your body with a wet squelch and leaves. You're left gasping and insensate, struggling to move. As you gasp, whimper and drool into the sand, you're horrified when another man mounts you. Just like the first and second time, he wastes no time turning you into his personal cock sleeve. You find that your protests, should you be able to even get them out, are now slurred and breathless. You're finding it hard to think. The pain of being stretched so wide is subsiding with each gigantic, girthy cock that smashes into you, and soon the agony is replaced with embarrassing amounts of pleasure. By the time the second man withdraws from your battered, gaping, leaking hole, you catch yourself hoping that someone replaces him. You push your hands beneath yourself, cradling your stomach. Without a much larger man's cock rearranging your insides, you now feel almost painfully empty. Luckily, another man soon appears. Just like those before him, he wastes no time bottoming out in your gaping, ruined hole and emptying his seed into you with such casual disregard for your status as a living being that it puts soft tears in your eyes. Ultimately, however, he succeeds in bringing you to climax multiple times, even before you feel the fresh warmth pumping into your guts. You can't keep denying it... You love this. As your current lover, or rather "user", withdraws from the communal cum receptacle that is your ass, you know that he'll soon be replaced. You're right. There is a fourth man, and a fifth, and a sixth, and a... well, you begin to lose count. As your body is used and abused over and over again, you feel your mind slipping away. You become hyperaware of how your ass feels; how incredible it feels to be stretched wide by a complete stranger, and how utterly, crushingly empty you feel when one isn't using you. By the end of the day, your fate has been sealed. You become the beach's 24/7 cum dump and are so frequently pinned beneath big, sweaty men that, despite lying on the beach for the rest of your days, you never so much as tan. After a few days, your black box activates. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Gape and cum" , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table> (set: $Experienced_BadEnd_Beach_Sunbathing to true)}

Stunned by what happened to you, or perhaps so horny that you want a repeat, you decide to stay put in the locker room. Soon, much to your excitement, you hear footsteps approaching. When men enter the locker rooms you're deeply embarrassed to find that they're the same ones as before. Reinvigorated from their first run-in with you, they went to continue their workouts, but now they're back. Each of the men appears ecstatic to find you again. They lick their lips and teasingly undress, approaching you with predatory grins on their faces. Soon you're squashed between the toned, flawless bodies of no less than 5 men as they grind their cocks against your lithe frame. Unable to resist, you fall to your knees. With dextrous hands you begin to rub and stroke each of the men, lapping and kissing their muscles until they blow sticky loads over your face. The smell is intoxicating, and you quickly find yourself spurting ropes of your own. Seeking more than your willing hands can provide, it isn't long before one of the men pushes you onto your hands and knees. Immediately, you're left gagging and whining as a duo of cocks push up your ass and down your throat. You quickly find yourself pushing back against each thrust into your ample derriere, cupping the balls of the man blasting his seed down your throat, and dozens of other wordless confessions of how much you love the debauched situation you've found yourself in. You lose track of time, and of the owner of each cock as it pistons in and out of your holes. You're not sure how many times you've cum, but your output is completely dwarfed by the amount that now fills your stomach. Your belly is so rounded and distended with the seed of strangers that it elevates you to a perfect spit-roasting height. In between fucking you silly, you're fleetingly aware of the men discussing something. Unbeknownst to you, they're discussing what to do with you, and they quickly think of something suitable for such a slutty fox. . . . You let out slutty whines as a man batters his cock into your gaping asshole. You're sure you've felt him before, but the blindfold covering your eyes prevents you from confirming it. Your bindings creak as the man lifts you a few inches, struggling to get a better angle as he pumps especially rough into your guts for a few moments before adding another few gallons to your distended stomach. He pushes an XXXL-sized plug into your permanently-gaping asshole, before abandoning you just as casually as any other piece of equipment in the gym. Since your run-in with the men in the locker room, you've been tied up inside one of the lockers. Anyone is free to fuck you as they please, so long as they leave a tally with a marker. In recent days, however, finding a free patch of fur to mark has become a genuine challenge. For the first few days, the door of the locker where you've been bound could be closed, giving you at least some semblance of privacy... when your brains weren't being fucked out, of course. Now, however, your stomach is so full of seed that the locker door is jammed fully open at all times. Between the constant, rough public use and the unholy amount of cum pumped into your guts each hour, there's no longer anything left of the person you once were. Only a brain-dead, public-use fuckhole remains. Your black box activates, transmitting the final dredges of your consciousness. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Whimper and break" , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table>}

Too over-encumbered to move comfortably, you decide to wait until your sloshing stomach becomes more manageable. Unfortunately, your inaction quickly comes back to bite you. Still lying where the overly-productive Ovar left you, nauseous and painfully full, he soon finds you again. Having just completed another workout and feeling particularly powerful, the man wastes no time ramming his sweaty cock down your throat. Through gag-inducing, throat-bulging thrusts, you desperately try to beg for mercy but only seem to encourage the man to facefuck you harder. It isn't long before he's grunting and gripping your ears, ramming slow and hard, pumping gallons more of his seed down your throat. At one point, you genuinely feel like you're about to drown. He's utterly insatiable, building up a new rhythm just seconds after emptying his balls into your stomach. With each orgasm, your stomach bloats a few extra inches beyond what you thought was possible. It's almost impossible to move now, you're so full, but that's nothing compared to how hard it's becoming to think. The taste of his cock, cum, how your aching stomach feels so full... it's all too much. As your stomach begins flushing bright red, and you begin to worry that you'll literally pop, the mercy of unconsciousness suddenly washes over you. . . . When your eyes flutter open, you immediately hear yourself gagging. You squirm uncomfortably as the first sensation you experience after regaining consciousness is more cum pumping down your throat. You quickly realise that you're no longer in the gym. Instead, the man appears to have carried your cum-inflated body back to his home, and you feel immediately ashamed at the thought of people having seen you like this. You try to find ways to escape your fate, but it's difficult when your face is constantly buried in the man's crotch. Your thoughts are burdened by the discomfort of your rounded, beyond-pregnant-looking belly and by the other sensations that come with having your mouth and throat used like a disposable toy. By the time the sun rises the next day, you've been utterly facefucked into submission. Far too full of the man's cum to even remotely be able to move, you soon accept your new life as the man's personal cum-dump. As the days turn into weeks, then into months, you even gain weight from how much cum he pumps down your throat. In between rounds of intense, throat-wrecking oral, your new master makes fun of your chubby yet still undeniably feminine body, and soon your mind collapses under the prolonged oral servitude and humiliation you endure. Unable to continue your journey for no shortage of reasons, your black box activates. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Gurgle and bloat" , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table>}

You make no attempt to leave the stall, and nobody comes to save you. Soon, you're gagging and squirming as more dicks are forced into you. As you sober up, you're increasingly excited by your new predicament. You've already given, your fate may already be sealed—Your drunk self has seen to that already. Your stomach is soon so bloated with strangers' seed that now, even if you really wanted to, there's not a chance in hell you'd managed to squirm free. Your half-willing predicament draws increasingly large crowds to the nightclub, all with the intention of leaving you more bloated and fucked-senseless than the group before them. Amenities spring up around your and the stall, as your body becomes a larger draw than the nightclub's original purpose. Pillows and straps are used to soften your new home, and countless domestic drones endeavour to keep you comfortable, happy, and most importantly—fuckable. All of that is in vain, however. By the end of the first week, you no longer care about your situation. Ultimately, your mind endured only about four days before shattering completely, and what little of you that remains has completely resigned itself as the nightclub's cum-dumpster. A communal cum-balloon for the rest of your pathetic days, your black box activates. Hopefully the next you will do a little better. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Slosh and moan" , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table> (set: $Experienced_BadEnd_Nightclub_Drinks to true)}

You know you can't outrun them, so you immediately scale a nearby streetlight and freeze in place. Heart racing, you watch as the still naked men crash out onto the street, absolutely furious, and storm down the street in pursuit of you. Luckily, none of them spot you. You watch as they turn a corner, and the sound of their protests slowly grows more distant. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>(link-goto: "Catch your breath" , "Hedon")</td></tr> </table>}

Mustering the last of your willpower, you're just barely able to refuse the man's obscene request... before darkness takes you. . . . When you regain consciousness, an unknown number of hours later, your breasts have returned to their normal size. Your entire body is drenched in your milk, the cum of strangers, and your own seed from an unknown number of orgasms. Now flat-chested, you quickly locate and pull on your jumpsuit. You're able to admire, or at the very least be horrified by, your handiwork. All around you are men with stomachs bloated almost to bursting with your milk, albeit not quite as bloated as your own cum-filled stomach. Embarrassed at how easily you were used as the community cow, you stagger your way from the evidence of your debauchery. All the while, you're rubbing at your chest, the lingering sensitivity reminding you of what you did. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>(link-goto: "Rub your chest" , "Hedon")</td></tr> </table>}

. . . With an upset stomach and redness in your cheeks, you collect your clothes and stumble towards a side door. You just narrowly avoid another group of men as they descend on the locker rooms, loudly expressing their disappointment that you're no longer there. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>(link-goto: "Stumble out" , "Hedon")</td></tr> </table>}

. . . Over the next hour, you slowly absorb the ludicrous amount of cum in your stomach. You're still feeling nauseous by the time you're able to stumble to your feet. When you squeeze at your middle, there's some undeniable softness from all the cum you swallowed, and you worry about getting chubby... and needing another visit to the gym. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>(link-goto: "Massage your stomach" , "Hedon")</td></tr> </table>}

. . . Several hours of fucking later, you're finally found by one of the nightclub's janitors. He lets out a disappointed sigh as he sees what a mess you've made. Although your memory is hazy, you're sure that he dumps a few loads of his own down your throat before rolling your bloated body out of the nightclub. Strangers point and laugh at your cum-inflated form as you lie on the street, while a small squad of Dionysus' drones tries to figure out the best way to empty you out. If nothing else, at least the litres of cum in your stomach assist you in sobering up... although as you realise what you've done, you become immensely embarrassed with yourself. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>(link-goto: "Sober up" , "Hedon")</td></tr> </table>}

{(if: $ContentWarnings is "High" and $ContentWarning_Taun is true)[(goto:"Taun content warning")] }You enter the coordinates for the verdant planet of Taun, soon finding yourself orbiting the abundant forest world. (if: (Random:1,10) > 7)[(goto:"Geneticist - Broadcast")]{  }(else:)[(display: "Taun")]{ }

When you decline, the stranger's jovial attitude immediately falls away. There's a flicker of actual, genuine rage on their face, and then the communication channel abruptly closes. The bridge lights flash red, as do a number of nearby consoles. Dozens of imminent attack warnings flash in front of you, all informing you that the nearby ship is charging its front-facing weaponry. Thinking fast, you do the same. Although your ship is a hunk of junk, it's still a military vessel. Your weapon charging sequence outpaces that of the research vessel. You hold your breath, knowing that in only a few moments, you'll have to either fire or risk being fired upon. Before either ship can fire a shot, however, the other ship abruptly engages its warp drive—disappearing to parts unknown. Your heart is pounding. Were they threatening you, trying to force you to go along with what they wanted? Or did they genuinely intend to attack you, only backing off when you showed superior firepower? Shaking your head, you decide to continue towards Taun. You can process this further when you're planetside. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Prepare for landing->Taun]]</td> </tr> </table>}

Too curious to refuse, you have your ship's AI prime your short-range transporter. After a short charging sequence, there's a bright flash of light, and suddenly you're standing in the neighbouring ship. You spot the clutter immediately. There are glass vials, bubbling experiments, and scientific equipment you've never seen before. This is very clearly a research vessel... and you wonder just what they're researching. Suddenly, a voice booms from behind you. "There you are! Fantastic! Finally, I run into another enjoyer of science!" the stranger yells, their excitement readily apparent. You turn to the source of the voice but find yourself immediately jumping back and reaching for your weapon. They're a Gnoll, one of the warrior races of Taun—not the kind of adversary you want to fight in close quarters. Although, instead of an attack, they just hold up their hands. Although they're a lot bigger than you, they're completely unarmed. They're even wearing a goofy-looking lab coat. "Hey now..." they coo out as if speaking to a child. "I'd prefer it if you didn't put holes in any of my experiments. You were here to help me, remember?" "I-" you begin, embarrassed for a few moments until you regain your composure. "I'm sorry. You were just a bit of a surprise, after all. I didn't know Gnolls were advanced enough for space travel. All of my codex entries talk about you wielding bows and spears, yet... here you are." The scientist grins at you as if you've just accidentally complimented them. They radiate a strange sense of pride, tracing their fingers through their shaggy mane. "You're not wrong," they start. "Truth be told, I'm not really a Gnoll. Or, at least, I wasn't one until a few weeks ago. I'm a geneticist, you see. Recently I took a liking to the residents of Taun and decided I'd like to look more like them." "O-oh!" you blurt out, suddenly curious. "If you don't mind me asking, what were you before?" The faux-Gnoll's expression hardens for a moment before they take a sudden step forward. A clawed hand suddenly grips your waist. You're pulled close, turning your head just in time for their hot breath to lap at your cheek. "Forget about what I used to be," they tell you, one of their hands moving to pinch your chin. "Instead, enjoy what I am now... and what this new body can do..." Your eyes widen in surprise when the scientist kisses you. It's pleasant, albeit a little overly passionate, at least at first. You're left flinching and struggling to pull away, however, when you feel the man's absurdly long tongue forcing its way down your throat. He holds you there while you gag and whine, refusing to release you until you're on the verge of passing out. When he pulls away, his tongue lags behind him. You whimper as what feels like a foot of tongue pulls out of your throat. You're breathless and overwhelmed, too weak to pull away. "Just look how quickly this body overwhelmed you. Don't you want me to keep going? Don't you want to... enjoy this too?" they ask, grinning when all you can respond with are desperate little whines. When they trace their palm down your front, you're embarrassed when it reaches your crotch... revealing that by choking you with their tongue, they made you almost painfully hard. You squirm as the scientist chuckles and grips you even more tightly than before. They rummage in the pocket of their lab coat, and soon they're pressing something firmly against the thin fabric of your jumpsuit. You flinch at a sudden pain—a needle puncturing your skin—and you suddenly begin to feel warm. As soon as the vial is empty, the scientist throws it aside and pulls out another. There's another dart of pain, and another, and another... You estimate that he's injected you with no less than a dozen different chemical cocktails. When he releases you, you're able to stumble only a few paces away. Your entire body feels uncomfortably warm, and it's becoming increasingly difficult to think. When you drop to all fours, the room spinning, you realise that the fur of your arms is darkening, beginning to resemble that of a Gnoll. As your body begins to increase in size, soon splitting open your jumpsuit as your proportions change, you're horrified to find that the fur that bursts through the openings has also changed colour. You reach out to brace yourself on a nearby table but are left whimpering and mortified when the hand you reach out with is not one you recognise. Where once you had slender, dextrous hands, they've now been replaced with a pair of unwieldy, clawed mitts. Your tongue sits uncomfortably in your mouth as new, massive fangs begin to fill it. The new pair of fangs in your lower jaw poke upwards, out of your mouth, giving you a particularly undignified look. You grip your sides, although not in pain. As the final stages of the transformation take place, your desperate pleading is replaced by cackling laughter. The only remaining evidence that you were ever "you" is the device in your head. Currently, it's broadcasting fragments of your mind back to your ship. What's worse... it isn't just your body that's changing—you can feel it. You can smell your new master from here, and for some reason, you can't stop drooling. Your useful thoughts, ones of escape or reasoning, become less and less frequent. It isn't long before you're panting needily, pressing your face to the scientist's crotch. He grips your hair and holds you in place, making sure that you huff his musk while the last of your original personality is destroyed. "You're perfect," he coos down at you, although you're now far too stupid to understand him. "We're going to have lots of fun together..." . . . Ultimately, the Geneticist keeps you as his stupid, musk-huffing slut and occasional lab partner. He forces you to worship him almost constantly and spends great lengths of time altering your body or mind to suit him further. By the end of the month, he's messed with your genome so thoroughly that there's absolutely no chance of you ever being cured. Not that you'd want to be... having found the greatest purpose of your life drinking in your new lover's scent, swallowing his cum, and worshipping him for being so much better than you. Your black box finishes transmitting, and you, or at least this copy of you, is lost forever. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>(link-goto: "Huff and lick" , "Ship - Respawn")</td></tr> </table>}

As you prepare to enter the atmosphere, you suddenly receive a communications request from a nearby ship. With some trepidation, you accept the request. A nearby screen flickers to life. There's a humanoid on the other end, although the feed is glitching too heavily for you to make out their features. All you're able to see is a massive, toothy smile flashing beneath the static. "Hey, you! Wanna earn some credits?" They ask, a terrifying grin on their face. "I need help with an... experiment. Just teleport over, and we can get started!" There's not a chance in hell that this isn't a trap... but you can't ignore a few pangs of curiosity. Do you board the suspicious scientist's ship? --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Polity decline->Geneticist - Refuse]]</td> <td>[[Board their ship->Geneticist - Lab rat]]</td> </tr> </table>}

{(set: $Player_WeightTier to 0) (if: $ContentWarning_Laard is true and $ContentWarnings is not "Off")[(goto:"La'ard content warning")] }You enter the coordinates for the indulgent world of La'ard, and you're soon exiting warp in orbit around the planet. From here, you can see that the planet is unusually mountainous and green. Vast, verdant fields are visible even from orbit. (if: $Laard_BeenBefore is false)[{ (set: $Laard_BeenBefore to true) }As you hover in orbit, staring in awe of the world, you're suddenly hailed from the planet's surface. "Welcome, welcome!" the broadcast suddenly calls out. "We've transmitted coordinates to your ship. Please join us soon!" You tap the coordinates into a nearby navigation terminal, and soon you're touching down at an open-air landing pad on the planet's surface. As your ship's ramp extends, you're surprised to find a dozen or so strangers waiting for you. You're confused and a little red-faced when you see them. They are all chubby, obviously overweight, and clad in robes that seem to have at one point been long and flowing... but are now utterly inadequate at covering their fatty bodies. As you near the end of the ramp, one of the strangers steps forward. Her robes are visibly more patterned than the others. Rather embarrassingly, her robe seems especially tight. Her fatty, albeit unmistakably feminine physique is pouring out from beneath it. The front of her robe is lifted so high by her breasts that her bulging stomach is on full display. "Welcome to La'ard, traveller," she says, with a voice as soft as silk, and with obvious excitement in her voice. "I am the priestess Idella. It is a pleasure to meet you." "Thank you", you shakily respond. "I'm sure you're a little confused. I'm happy to answer any questions you may have," she states, watching you with intense interest. You can't help but notice that she has only fleetingly looked you in the face—Instead, she's been staring at your middle while speaking, as if sinking in the details of your slender body. "W-what can you tell me about La'ard?" you're eventually able to ask. She smiles at you, seemingly pleased at an opportunity to talk about her planet. "Technically speaking, La'ard is a high-energy ecosystem. We maintain harvests that exceed our population's requirements by almost 10,000%," she tells you, obviously having rehearsed the sentence beforehand. "May I ask why?" you ask. She smiles at you, although her grin seems far hungrier than before. Drool forms at the edge of her mouth, but she quickly wipes it away. "Simply put... La'ard is a planet of indulgences. Sex, drink and food are in incredible abundance here, and absolutely everything is free. Some might call the planet a paradise for those reasons alone. The only thing this world lacks is judgement. No matter how big or insatiable you become, you will always be welcome—celebrated even." "It does sound like a paradise," you quietly admit. "And I'm free to come and go as I please?" "Well... there is one minor caveat," she admits. "Since we're a carefully maintained ecosystem, when you leave... you'll have to forfeit any extra mass that you've gained." She speaks with a hint of sadness, but you're unsure if what they've just told you is a bad thing. A world of infinite indulgence where they remove the consequences before you leave? Sounds like heaven. "We've taken the liberty of preparing a room for you," she suddenly says, as if to sweeten the deal. "It's over in the visitor centre." "Oh, thank you!" you blurt out, unused to such unprompted hospitality. She ushers you from the landing bay. As you pass the exit, the priestess has some final words for you. "May the Deity smile upon you," she says, with a hand on your shoulder and a grin on her face. "Wait... what?" you ask, turning to face the priestess. Unfortunately, you find that she's already hurrying off to greet another visitor.]{ }(else:)[(if: (random:1,10) > 7)[(goto:"La'ard arrival event")]{ }As you hover in orbit, examining the planet below, you're suddenly hailed from the planet's surface. "Welcome back, friend!" a familiar broadcast suddenly calls out. "We've transmitted coordinates to your ship. Please join us soon!" You type the coordinates into a nearby console, and soon you're touching down at an open-air landing pad. Stepping down your ship's ramp, you're again greeted by priestess Idella. She recognises you immediately, and you're left red-faced and breathless when she pulls you into a sudden hug. The softness of her body is so pronounced that you can barely think. Her robes cover so little that as you struggle and squirm, your hands accidentally squeeze and press as her copious pudge. By the time she breaks the hug, your face is utterly crimson. She sees this, smiling, and welcomes you back to La'ard.] --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Look around->La'ard]]</td> </tr> </table> }

{<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td colspan="2" style="font-size:300%">Content Warning</td> </tr> <tr> <td colspan="2" style="font-size:200%">This planet contains niche content!</td> </tr> <tr> <td colspan="2" style="font-size:150%">Kinks: Weight gain, Hyper, Overweight lovers.</td> </tr> </table> } --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center; border-spacing:2em; table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Go back" , "Ship - Bridge")</td> <td>(link:"Proceed")[(set: $ContentWarning_Laard to false)(goto:"Arrive on La'ard")]</td> </tr> </table>}

As you approach La'ard, you're suddenly hailed by a nearby vessel. A rudimentary scan seems to indicate it's a cargo vessel of some kind. You accept the transmission, and a portly Dom appears on-screen. They welcome you to La'ard orbit and ask if you'd like to board their ship to partake in an ongoing feast. They seem friendly enough. What will you do? --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Join the feast->Hammerspace bad ending]]</td> <td>[[Decline->Decline the feast]]</td> </tr> </table>}

You agree to the feast and are soon boarding the ship to an incredibly warm welcome. Strangely, many of the crew look at you with pity, and a few make open, worried remarks about how skinny you are. As the feast begins, you quickly notice that each of the crewmembers is wearing the same kind of jumpsuit. You initially think it's just a uniform until you spot the word "HammerSpace" on one. You recognise the name as a company that specialises in personal, size-altering tech. Most commonly, it's used to generate small pocket dimensions for the hyper-endowed or massively overweight, allowing them to live relatively normal lives. It's odd, though, you thought that nobody on La'ard was allowed to leave without returning the weight they'd gained. When you ask the person next to you about it, thinking it's a completely harmless question, there's suddenly a deafening silence. Eyes glare at you from all sides of the table, and you begin to feel exceptionally unsafe. They're on you before you can react, grabbing you from all sides. You cry out as your jumpsuit is stripped away, soon replaced with a 'HammerSpace' one of approximately the same size. You're lain on your back, on top of the feasting table, and pinned in place by half a dozen individuals. One by one, they take turns force-feeding you, pushing food past your lips as you beg for mercy and try, completely fruitlessly, to convince them you'll keep their secret. Entire meals are shoved down your throat, one after the other, whether you're ready for them or not. You can feel your stomach distending, but when you look down, it still appears flat. It appears the only thing keeping you upright is the HammerSpace tech hiding the abuse you've suffered. Before long, a hose is affixed to your muzzle. You gag and struggle as a liquid, which you immediately identify as gravy, begins to bulge your cheeks. Before long, you're forced to begin swallowing, lest you drown. Your stomach aches, and you can feel that it's inflated like a massive beach ball, yet every investigation of your body shows that it's exactly as lithe as when you arrived. For a few moments, you feel close to bursting until a strange warmth begins to ebb through your body. They must have added something to the food, something to boost your metabolism to obscene levels. They force you to gulp down litre after litre of gravy, always keeping you genuinely worried that you'll pop but never quite managing it. Beneath the latex skin of your 'HammerSpace' jumpsuit, you can feel yourself plumping up. You're not sure how big you've gotten, beyond an inexplicable knowledge that you wouldn't recognise yourself anymore. You can, just by how your body feels, identify that you are no longer mobile or anything remotely close to it. When you try to picture what lies beneath your new clothes, your mind conjures images of an endless, flabby mountain. You might be so huge by this point that to deactivate your outfit may genuinely risk destroying the vessel upon which you're now held. As the last drops of gravy drip down your throat, you're allowed to stagger a few paces from the table. You wipe the dregs of leftover gravy from your face, finding that your face is comically fatty and round—the one bit of your body that the jumpsuit cannot alter. You take a desperate step towards your ship, and your body immediately explodes outwards with fresh adipose, causing you to immediately fall onto your now fatty and spherical stomach. A nearby crewmember holds a remote, currently set to 95%. They tell you that you work for them now and that should you resist, they'll deactivate the only thing keeping you from turning into an immobile, useless mountain of pudge. With no other options, you join their crew... . . . You're no good as an adventurer if your mobility is held at constant ransom, and your black box soon detects your predicament. A far less fatty, far more mobile version of you will carry on your quest. As for this one... better start packing on the pounds. You've got a quota to fill, and immobility is just a button press away. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Guess your new weight" , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table>}

You thank the Dom for their generous offer but inform them that you're in a hurry. They seem genuinely upset on your behalf but bid you a pleasant journey. With nothing more to say, you continue towards La'ard. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Continue to La'ard->La'ard]]</td> </tr> </table>}

{(set: $Event to (random: 1 , 10)) }(if: $Player_WeightTier is 0)[You are standing in the middle of a small town. You're surprised that everything is so spaced out, wondering why a town with so many overweight people wouldn't strive to have key locations closer together... until you realise that, were the buildings closer together, it's likely that residents would get stuck between them. Beyond the buildings, verdant orchards and plentiful fields stretch endlessly into the distance. You understand immediately why there's so much food to eat. Where will you go?]{ }(if: $Player_WeightTier is 1)[You are standing in the middle of a small town. Idly patting at your middle, you're left slightly red-faced when you discover pudge you hadn't noticed before. Some much larger citizens watch you from afar, giving you knowing gazes as you realise you're the embarrassed owner of several new curves. As long as you're careful, you shouldn't overdo it... Where will you go?]{ }(if: $Player_WeightTier is 2)[You are standing in the middle of a small town. As you consider where to go next, you find yourself idly squeezing at yourself. Your body is so plush and soft that you can't help but resist. You catch strangers staring at you as you openly explore yourself, jealousy in their eyes. You blush bright red, unsure if they're jealous because they want to be as big as you, or because they want to touch you too. When you think about having to trudge over to somewhere, you preemptively begin to feel tired. Man... why can't everywhere just be closer together? Where will you go?]{ }(if: $Player_WeightTier is 3)[You are standing in the middle of a small town. It feels especially small now that you're so big. As you stand, your stomach idly rumbling, dozens of strangers stare at you. How could they not? You're massive and constantly shifting. Even at rest, your body is a constantly-wobbling mountain of lard. You feel exhausted just thinking about where to go next, well aware that the journey will leave you out of breath and drenched in sweat. Where will you waddle to?] --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(if: $Event is not 10)[(link: "Visitor rooms")[(goto: "Head to visitor room")]](else:)[(link: "Visitor rooms")[(set: $Destination to "Head to visitor room")(goto:"Serial filler")]]</td> <td>(if: $Event is not 10)[(link: "Fast food joint")[(goto: "Fast food joint")]](else:)[(link: "Fast food joint")[(set: $Destination to "Fast food joint")(goto:"Serial filler")]]</td> <td>(if: $Event is not 10)[(link: "LB Town")[(goto: "LB Town")]](else:)[(link: "LB Town")[(set: $Destination to "LB Town")(goto:"Serial filler")]]</td> </tr> <tr> <td>(if: $Event is not 10)[(link: "Field")[(goto: "La'ard - Field")]](else:)[(link: "Field")[(set: $Destination to "La'ard - Field")(goto:"Serial filler")]]</td> <td>(if: $Player_WeightTier < 1)[(if: $Event is not 10)[(link: "Mountain")[(goto: "La'ard - Mountain travel")]](else:)[(link: "Mountain")[(set: $Destination to "La'ard - Mountain travel")(goto:"Serial filler")]]](else:)[~~Mountain~~]</td> <td>[[Leave->Leave La'ard]]</td> </tr> </table>      }

(if: $Player_WeightTier is 0)[There is a full-length mirror against one wall of the room. A useful piece of furniture, should you want to tidy up a little. On your bedside table, there is a pamphlet informing you that the visitor centre offers room service. Should you get peckish, it could make for a convenient little meal. Finally, there seems to be enough space for you to do some stretches, should you feel like it. It may be wise if you wish to avoid becoming as spherical as some of the residents of the planet.]{ }(else-if: $Player_WeightTier is 1)[There is a full-length mirror against one wall of the room. From across the room, you catch glimpses of yourself and grow increasingly embarrassed by your newly plumpened physique. On your bedside table, there is a pamphlet informing you that the visitor centre offers room service. You're not sure you need more calories, but you are starting to feel a little bit hungry. Finally, there seems to be enough space for you to do some stretches, should you feel like it. You don't.]{ }(else-if: $Player_WeightTier is 2)[There is a full-length mirror against one wall of the room. It captures your fatty hide no matter where you stand, and you are frequently embarrassed by unwitting glimpses of your own blubbery body. On your bedside table, there is a pamphlet informing you that the visitor centre offers room service. You feel immense gratitude, your stomach already rumbling. Finally, there seems to be enough space for you to do some stretches, should you feel like it. There are very few things you would rather do less than work out.]{ }(else-if: $Player_WeightTier is 3)[There is a full-length mirror against one wall of the room. Although it captures your mountainous body from anywhere in the room, giving you no shortage of embarrassed glimpses at the whale you have become, no evidence is more shocking to you than the weight you carry, constantly and with every step. On your bedside table, there is a pamphlet informing you that the visitor centre offers room service. When you see the pictures of food on it, you immediately begin to salivate. Your stomach rumbles more loudly than you thought possible, and you're left red-faced at the thought of nearby rooms issuing noise complaints. Were you smaller, there might be space for you to work off some of the immense bulk you've gained, but you've crossed the line. Several tens of thousands of calories ago, you had the chance to stop, to retake control of your bloating body, and yet you chose to get bigger. There's no turning back now.] --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Examine yourself->La'ard - Examine yourself]]</td> <td>(if: $Player_WeightTier < 3)[[[Work out->La'ard - Work out]]](else:)[~~Work out~~]</td> <td>[[Order room service->La'ard - Room service]]</td> </tr> <tr> <td></td> <td>(link-goto:"Leave" , "La'ard")</td> <td></td> </tr> </table>}

(if: $Player_WeightTier is 0)[You walk into the nearby fast-food joint and are immediately taken aback by how massive some of the patrons are. There are people here with gigantic, fatty thighs that are dozens of times wider than your body. You step forward and prepare to place your order.]{ }(else-if: $Player_WeightTier is 1)[You walk into the nearby fast-food joint, surprised by how many patrons are utterly, ridiculously obese. You had been feeling a little on the chubby side recently, but any fears are immediately eased by the comparisons you're able to draw between your own body and that of these gluttonous strangers. Your stomach grumbling, you step forward and prepare to place your order.]{ }(else-if: $Player_WeightTier is 2)[You stumble into the nearby fast-food joint, grateful that the doors are so wide. Initially, you're surprised at the size of the other, gluttonous customers and their flabby, spherical bodies. You're reflexively judgemental... until you realise that you're about the same size. Your stomach rumbling embarrassingly loud, you step forward and prepare to place your order.]{ }(else-if: $Player_WeightTier is 3)[You waddle into the nearby fast-food joint, grateful that the double doors are so wide. Still, you have to squash through the doorway, much to your embarrassment. Even in a meeting place of some of the fattiest people in the known universe, you're still one of the biggest. Never before has the magnitude of your descent into sheer, utter obesity been more obvious. With redness in your fatty, frequently food-stuffed cheeks, and your stomach grumbling so hungrily that you struggle to think, you get ready to place your order.] --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Buy a burger->Fastfood - Burger]] </td> <td>[[Buy some fries->Fastfood - Fries]]</td> <td>[[Buy a soda->Fastfood - Soda]]</td> </tr> <tr> <td></td> <td>(link-goto: "Leave" , "La'ard")</td> <td></td> </tr> </table>}

You approach one of the larger buildings on the outskirts of town. You immediately recognise it as a brothel. Holographic screens on the outside of the building display some of the "employees". Among them, there is a muscle gut wolf and a pair of enthused-looking Vulpis twins. You head inside, finding the reception empty. There's a large screen for you to interact with, however, displaying the individuals from earlier. Who will you pick? --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Muscle gut wolf->LB Town - Wolf]] </td> <td>[[Latex twins->LB Town - Twins]](if: $ContentWarnings is "High")[ 😥 ]</td> <td>(link-goto: "Leave" , "La'ard")</td> </tr> </table>}

(if: $Player_WeightTier is 0)[Your cheeks already flushed a deep red, you tap the wolf's icon. A moment later, the man himself strolls into the lobby. He's already naked, his fat cock and duo of heavy-looking balls on full display. Much to your embarrassment, he seems immediately underwhelmed with you. "Ugh... a newbie, huh? So small..." he groans, disdain audible in his voice. "Well... I suppose we can fix that, can't we?" He manhandles you effortlessly towards one of the private rooms, never giving you the opportunity to introduce yourself. Arriving in the private room, you're immediately pushed down to your knees. The wolf's fat, throbbing cock falls against your cheek. His mere manhood feels heavier than your entire body. "Time for your meal, slut. Open up," he commands, but you hesitate. This is all so fast. You decide to reason with him, ask him to be gentle with you, but when you open your mouth- In an instant, he's gripping your ears, grinding inch after meaty inch of cock past your lips. Your neck bulges as the man's girthy length squashes down your throat. You're utterly overwhelmed and overpowered, any attempt to pull away met by a firm tug on your ears that sends additional inches of cock surging past your lips. When he builds into a rhythm, you're left gagging and teary-eyed. Soon, his crotch is slapping your nose. Wet, lewd sounds ring out as he mates passionately with your poor face. Before long, he's pushing his knot roughly past your lips. The size of it hurts your jaw, and when it pops behind your teeth, you're well and truly locked in place. Completely dominated, with your jaw and throat aching, you're powerless when the wolf suddenly tenses up. In an instant, he's shooting litres of seed directly into your stomach, enough to bloat your stomach in only a matter of seconds. Much to your shame, as your stomach bulges and rounds, becoming utterly pregnant-looking, you blow an embarrassingly large load of your own. The crotch and thighs of your jumpsuit are soon visibly damp, not that it can be seen beneath your spherical stomach. Seeming at least partially satisfied, the man watches you choke on his knot for a little while before sharply tugging from your throat. "Just imagine what I could do if you had some more padding..." he grins, rubbing your pregnant-looking belly and licking his lips. His comment leaves redness in your cheeks, especially when the wolf suddenly bids you farewell. You spend the next hour trying to pack your cum-inflated stomach into your jumpsuit, with mixed success. With several tens of thousands of calories bloating your stomach, there's no doubt you're going to gain a lot of weight.]{ }(else-if: $Player_WeightTier is 1)[The muscle gut wolf soon appears, striding out from one of the private rooms and wiping fresh sweat from his brow. When he spots you, however, he seems immediately re-energised. "Well, well, well... what do we have here?" he asks aloud, to nobody in particular. Soon, his hands are roaming across your body and squeezing at your most pronounced curves. He manhandles you towards one of the private rooms, never going more than a few seconds without gripping, squeezing or teasing at your flabby body. As soon as you're alone, he rushes to slip off your jumpsuit, letting out a loud whistle as he uncovers your voluptuous, well-padded physique. "Damn, fatty. Looks like I can be a little rough with you." he chuckles, hands tracing across your hips for a moment, before he grabs two rough handfuls of your ass. He pushes over the edge of a nearby bed, the rounded pudge of your stomach rendering you semi-immobilised and completely at his mercy. Before you can ask him to be gentle, he's already cramming his fat, throbbing length inside you. You grit your teeth, whimpering and moaning as he stretches you wide. In a few short, rough thrusts, he's bulging your upper stomach. You can feel his girthy knot slapping your fatty ass cheeks already. Soon, you feel him tense up. He grips your fatty love handles and slams into you with almost pelvis-shattering force, squashing his knot into your bowels whether you're prepared for it or not. You cry out as you're stretched almost to breaking, and soon your stomach faces a similar fate, filled with litre after litre of the wolf's cum. You let out desperate, horny whines as your already fatty stomach becomes so bloated that it's almost perfectly spherical. Much to your shame, the sensation of being so full brings you to orgasm, and you spurt comparatively pathetic ropes of cum against the underside of your overly-full stomach. "Damn, slut. You took it like a champ." he teases, chuckling when the only sound you're able to make in response is a pathetic, needy little whine. "Maybe I'll keep you..." His threat excites you, leaving you red-faced and with an involuntarily wagging tail. Why do you enjoy being his fatty cum balloon so much?! In a single, sudden motion, the wolf pulls himself from your aching hole. "Just kidding." he suddenly blurts out, practically breaking your heart in the process. An open-palmed slap crashes off your fatty behind. "You're way too small for me..." For reasons unknown, you immediately want to get bigger. You want to impress him, indulge him... even be claimed by him... You're left with all manner of embarrassing thoughts as the wolf leaves you to clean yourself up, something that takes you an embarrassingly long time to do.]{ }(else-if: $Player_WeightTier is 2)[The wolf appears only a few moments later, striding out confidently but suddenly stopping dead in his tracks. "Holy shit!" he blurts out. "You're huge!" His comments put a pronounced, completely involuntary redness in your cheeks. You know you've gotten huge, but for someone to react to you like that... You stifle a whimper as the wolf approaches. His hands soon roam across your fatty, endlessly curvy body, and he's soon pushing and prodding at you, forcing you to stumble towards one of the back rooms. During the short journey, which your unwieldy sphere of a body transmutes into a long journey, he squeezes, gropes, and even bites at you. As soon as you're alone, he begins pulling off your jumpsuit. It's quite the feat, given how massive you are. With each roll of fat the wolf is able to expose, he only seems to grow more consumed with lust. As the last of your clothes fall away, the wolf drops to his knees. He plants his face against your comically blubbery stomach, kissing, licking and slobbering over it. You clutch your hands to your fatty chest, whimpering and whining as the wolf's hot breath pushes between your folds. "Bigger..." he suddenly says, mouth still planted against the fatty flesh of your stomach. "W-what?" you ask, breathless and overwhelmed. The only response you get comes in the form of a sudden push. Your balance upset, you tumble backwards onto your back and become immediately immobilised beneath your own weight. Before you can react, the wolf is leaning over you, lining up his bitch-breaking cock with your gasping mouth. Knowing you're already utterly at his mercy, you open your mouth and do your best to relax your neck. He responds by thrusting past your lips, burying himself so deep down your throat that his rapidly-inflating knot slaps your lips. He builds into an immediate rhythm. Your gagging and muffled pleas for mercy are of no concern to him. As he facefucks you, he squeezes your blubbery chest and has an obscene, overly-sloppy make-out session with your stomach. It's all too much to bear, and you're soon spurting ropes against the underside of your fatty stomach. Your pathetic orgasm goes completely unnoticed, however. Soon after, the wolf's knot fills your fatty cheeks. You watch his balls throb and pulse as he empties his seed down your throat, bloating your already ridiculous-looking belly with tens of thousands of calories worth of cum. He withdraws from your face with a loud "Pop!". You cough and splutter, and dollops of cum drip from your mouth. You let out a weak moan as the wolf grips your fatty thighs, lifting and soon locking his arms around them. You grit your teeth as he pushes his saliva-slick, painfully-thick cock into your ass. No matter how much you try to relax, he's simply too big. Tears drip down your face as the wolf begins smashing into you, rearranging your poor guts with each thrust. You can feel him leaking already, and your humiliation only grows when he begins to lick and kiss at your stomach mid-fuck. Before long, he's blowing a load into your bowels. You whimper and whine as the wolf is able to coax another orgasm from you, although it goes just as ignored as the first. When you try to look your lover in the eye, you find that he has bloated your stomach so full that it blocks him from view. For some reason, that makes you feel immensely satisfied. After another sloppy make-out session with your now full-to-bursting belly, he suddenly pulls from your aching hole. As he does, it produces a sound, not unlike that of a champagne cork. "Get any bigger... I'll keep you," he says, with audible hunger in his voice. You know it in your heart that his words aren't just a threat... they're a promise. Both of you now immensely satisfied, and the wolf leaves you to clean yourself up. It takes you over an hour to squeeze back into your jumpsuit, especially once you've digested all of his cum... and almost doubled in weight.]{ }(else-if: $Player_WeightTier is 3)[(goto:"LB Town - Wolf bad end")] --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Wobble outside" , "La'ard")</td> <td>(link-goto: "Choose someone else" , "LB Town")</td> </tr> </table> (set: $Player_WeightTier to it + 1)}

(if: $Player_WeightTier is 0)[You press the button displaying the Vulpis twins. You hear them before you see them, their latex outfits squeaking down the corridor long before they appear. When they see you, they're quick to compliment your jumpsuit. You try to explain that it's your uniform—that you're not a rubber enthusiast—but your correct goes utterly ignored. You are led to one of the private rooms and are immediately seduced by the twins. The female Vulpis straddles your lap, pressing her voluptuous, rubber-covered breasts to your face. You feel the male Vulpis' hands exploring you from behind, soon squeezing at your growing bulge. As they overwhelm you, you're able to briefly glance around. There's a rubbery veneer to everything, and countless tanks and inflatables decorate the room. You let out a moan, already enjoying yourself when you're suddenly taken by surprise. In an instant, a kind of muzzle is affixed to your face. You try to struggle, but the twins hold you still. You spot a hose trailing from the muzzle over to a tank labelled "Compressed air" and are only able to cry out in muffled protest as the valve atop it is turned. Your face reddens, and your cheeks bulge. Before long, you're forced to gulp down mouthfuls of air. Your stomach bloats and rounds, soon the size of a large beach ball. You're pushed onto your back, and the twins reposition themselves. The female Vulpis sits at your side, tracing sharpened claws over your bulging stomach, threatening to pop you. The male Vulpis spreads your legs and kneels between them, licking hungrily at the latex-covered bulge of your jumpsuit. Much to your shame, your heart racing, your mind consumed by arousal and fear, you almost immediately bust a load in your uniform. You whimper, expecting to be punished, but instead, the muzzle is pulled from your face. The twins shower you with praise, pampering you and complimenting how massive your stomach has become. You're unsure how you feel about it, having thought you were about to meet your doom only a few moments before. A short time later, you're being ushered from the room. You stumble down the corridor to the reception, letting out sharp little burps, your stomach soon returning to normal.]{ }(else-if: $Player_WeightTier is 1)[The latex-clad twins meet you a short time later, the squeaking of their outfits reaching you far before you can see them. They seem elated by your newfound pudge, kissing and licking at your soft, jumpsuit-covered body, and drag you towards one of the private rooms. From the threshold of the room, you can see that everything has a glossy, rubbery quality. Pool toys and other inflatables fill the room, as do countless tanks of unknown contents. As soon as you're alone, they ask you if you enjoy being chubby. When you fail to respond, simply too embarrassed to reply, they tell you they can make you huge. A hose is quickly shoved past your lips, affixed with a muzzle of some kind, and your stomach immediately begins to inflate. As your stomach rapidly expands, far beyond what you believed to be possible, the twins' affections only grow more pronounced. They kiss and lick at you, enamoured with your bloating body. The male Vulpis crawls between your legs and begins to kiss at your growing bulge, while the female focuses all of her attention on your belly. "You're such a little glutton, arent you?" she asks, squeezing the pronounced adipose of your stomach. "We'll help you fill up... and then some..." She adjusts the valve on the nearby canister of air, and your stomach immediately bulges several additional inches. Your jumpsuit is almost beginning to tear from how comically massive your stomach has been inflated. The female Vulpis traces her claws across the circumference of your close-to-bursting belly while her male counterpart continues to sloppily lap at your crotch. You tense up from a mixture of pain and pleasure, your orgasm quickly approaching. "Which bit of you will pop first, I wonder?" the female twin asks, pressing her claw more firmly to your flesh. You wince and try to take in shallow breaths, genuinely terrified that she's about to pop you like a balloon. Just as you think you're about to meet a gruesome fate, your orgasm hits. You drench in the inside of your jumpsuit with an abnormally voluminous amount of cum, and both twins suddenly back off. You're anxious and teary-eyed as they congratulate you for enduring their gauntlet and tell you to come back soon. They leave you to stagger down the hall, burping and whining from how massive your stomach has become. You eventually return to normal, although plenty of strangers have witnessed your plight before then.]{ }(else-if: $Player_WeightTier is 2)[The latex-wearing twins arrive soon arrival, their arrival foreshadowed by the squeaking of their outfits. Immediately, they're completely infatuated with your fatty body. They can't keep their hands off of you, relentlessly squishing and squeezing at you as they drag you to one of the private rooms. As soon as you take that first unsteady step beyond the threshold and into the private room, they're on you. With medical precision, the twins shove a hose past your lips. You turn your head to see the origin of the rope, a massive tank of compressed air nestled between dozens of inflatable toys. Within moments, air is rushing into your stomach. You expand outwards at a rapid pace, your belly filling, and you are overwhelmed by feelings of both overwhelming fullness and confused contentment. Soon, a combination of your excessive adipose and the ridiculous volume of air filling it cause your jumpsuit to puncture and tear. Beneath it, your skin is reddened, but your body is faring far better than you might have expected. "God..." the female Vulpis blurts out, squeezing your ballooning middle. "Look at how much stretchier you are than that jumpsuit... You're something special..." She, and her male counterpart, openly lust over your body. They are beyond enamoured by how massive you've become, padding and kissing at your body, which is now equal parts solid and soft. They grind and moan against your ballooning body, and you can do nothing but whimper and whine, muffled around the hose that bloats your stomach with each passing moment. You're unsure if it's the pressure or sheer debauchery of what you've become involved in, but you're soon blowing a confused load in what little remains of your jumpsuit. Your twin lovers pull away, long strands of saliva connecting their eager mouths to your ballooned middle, and they congratulate you on becoming one of the largest clients they've ever had. Before you can react, they're pushing you out the door and telling you to visit them again soon. You can do nothing but roll ashamedly towards the front desk, deflating slowly as you go. You receive some funds to repair your jumpsuit, and you try to hide your embarrassment as you wait, completely nude, while it's fixed. By the time you're pulling on your newly-repaired jumpsuit, a small crowd has formed to admire your slowly-deflating belly.]{ }(else-if: $Player_WeightTier is 3)[(goto: "LB Town - Twins bad end")] --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Hiss and creak" , "La'ard")</td> <td>(link-goto: "Choose someone else" , "LB Town")</td> </tr> </table> }

//This may suit The Scar better!// [[LB Town - Toymaker bad end]]

Fatty hand hovering a few inches from the screen, you can't help but hesitate for a few moments. You consider how enamoured by massive guys everyone on this planet seems to be, and you're left imagining, red-faced, what your lover-for-hire will do when he sees how massive you are. Swallowing hard, you tap the wolf's icon. Your heart is thumping hard, and you're left utterly breathless when the wolf soon appears—already naked. He flashes you a toothy grin, licking his lips. Just from the way he's looking at you, you already know that your previous life is drawing to an end. There's a hunger on his face, unlike anything you've ever seen or felt before. You stutter out an embarrassed greeting, but he doesn't want to hear it. He digs his hands into the fatty, excessive adipose of your rear and pushes you roughly towards one of the private rooms. As you waddle along, the man's wandering hands grip, heft and squeeze at you. By the time you reach your room, he's already managed to pull off your jumpsuit. Without the stretchy, form-fitting fabric squeezing at you, your true size is revealed. You already looked ridiculous before, but now, naked curves on display, you look... comical. Were pictures of you leaked on the net, you doubt many people would believe them to be real. The wolf steps back, letting out a prolonged whistle as he examines you. With a sharp push, he sends you off balance, and you fall forward onto your stomach. Much to your shame, your fatty gut is so huge that you can't stand up again by yourself. You watch, helpless, as the wolf's meaty cock surges to full mast. His balls are so big and so full that you can practically hear them sloshing as he moves. "Here, fatass, since you love swallowing things so much..." he teases, grinding his weighty cock against your crimson face, dribbling precum in your hair. Immediately, his overpowering, masculine scent floods your nostrils. Before you know what you're doing, you're kissing his cock as he bullies you with it. Beneath your flab, your own cock becomes erect... but is utterly forgotten beneath the hundreds of thousands of calories worth of flab that you call a body. Soon, you're opening your mouth for the dominant wolf, your inhibitions buried beneath intense arousal, and he wastes no time shoving the tip of his ludicrously-proportioned cock to the back of your throat. You gag, tears forming in your eyes. He grips your ears, staring down at you in a combination of hunger and contentment, before thrusting past your lips with such force that his knot hurts your face. The next thrust is the same, as is the next, and he's immediately dissatisfied. His grip tightens, and he rears back until the dripping tip of his cock hovers just an inch past your lips. You look up at him with fear in your eyes, finding nought but a hungry grin lingering above you. A second later, he thrusts into your face as hard as he can. You let out a muffled whimper as his knot pops past your lips. In prior days, this might have bulged your cheeks to a comical degree... but now, having grown so utterly massive, your fatty cheeks all but hide it. It isn't long before your new lover is grunting and holding your face to his crotch. Tears run down your fatty, bulging cheeks as he empties his balls down your throat. Under regular circumstances, you'd be unable to keep up with his unnatural cum production, but his cock is so huge that there's no need for you to swallow—The tip of his cock reaches your stomach. With each throb of the wolf's manhood, you feel your endlessly soft middle growing more firm. You're humiliated and overwhelmed, and no sensation is more humiliating than the immense, bizarre satisfaction you feel from being used like a massive, fatty condom. He pulls out with a lewd "Pop!" leaving you to cough and splutter, gallons of cum dripping down your chin. He leaves you to gurgle and whine, tracing his hand along your fatty side as he strides behind you, leaving an alabaster trail as he does. "Yep." he suddenly blurts out, leaving you confused. "W-what?" you ask, still coughing out your rent-a-lover's cum. "This is mine," he casually responds. You're about to ask what he's talking about until- You cry out, drooling your lover's cum down your bulging stomach, as an open-palmed slap crashes off your upturned ass. Despite your excessive padding, he still strikes your colossal ass with enough force to make you cry out and seems to derive immense, perverse pleasure from doing so. You whimper and whine as several more slaps send your fatty rear wobbling, dozens of reddened hand-prints soon decorate your flesh, and the pain has almost brought you to tears. You're humiliated and sore... and know that you earned this. You could have stopped, somewhere down the line, if you didn't want this to be your fate. The wolf pushes past your ridiculously fatty ass cheeks, his gargantuan cock more than big enough to overcome them. With little to no consideration for your well-being, he stretches you almost horrifically wide. In a single, hole-ruining thrust, he buries himself so deeply in your guts that you can feel him leaking into your already cum-inflated stomach. He grips your comically large love handles and builds into a brutal rhythm, fucking you so hard that, even with your endless fatty rolls as protection, it still leaves you on the verge of passing out. When his orgasm hits, he squashes his throbbing knot into you in a single, violent motion. You gasp and moan as you feel litres of cum pouring into your stomach, and, quickly exceeding your maximum capacity, you're soon coughing and spluttering as a fountain of cum sprays from your mouth. As his orgasm fades, he immediately builds up a new, somehow even more intense rhythm. . . . Hours later, you've been reduced to a moaning, sloshing, utterly immobile sex pillow. The constant humiliation has left your head almost as doughy as your body. Pronounced wobbles ripple through your jelly-like flesh with ease. With the last dregs of your mind, you are able to perceive a final, perverse promise from your new master: That he'll empty his balls into you whenever he can and that you'll be the biggest cum balloon in the planet's history. Sensing your complete and utter failure, your black box activates. Hopefully, the next iteration of you will fare better than this one. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Cough up cum" , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table>}

Squeaking foreshadows the arrival of the twins, who immediately fall in love with you when they spot you. They are starry-eyed and completely, utterly infatuated with your body. With embarrassing comments and phrases like "Bouncy castle" exchanged between the two, you're left red-faced as the duo hurriedly waddle you through to one of the private rooms. You take only a single, ground-shaking step beyond the threshold into a rubbery, inflatable-filled room before one of the twins manages to push a hose past your lips. Your gluttony more than obvious; given your size, they feel no need to go easy on you. Instead, they turn a valve on a tank of compressed air and watch you balloon until your jumpsuit is utterly obliterated. Soon, only small tatters of fabric remain. You fall forward onto your gigantic beach ball of a stomach, letting out a pained yelp when one of the twins shoves a second hose into your exposed tail hole. Whimpering and whining, too fat and inflated to move, you realise you're genuinely helpless. Just as you're beginning to think the duo legitimately want to pop you, the female Vulpis suddenly produces a needle. She traces it down your balloon-like belly, seemingly confirming your fears, and tells you how she's going to burst you. She only stops when her male counterpart chastises her, telling her that you won't be a fun toy if she bullies you too much. "A "toy"?" you think to yourself. "What are they saying?" You took eyes off the needle for just a second, and it's repositioning before you realise it. There's a sharp sting in your left thigh and an immediate, immense warmth that surges through you. If nothing else, the warmth helps to mask the discomfort from being bloated so huge... at least, you think that's what's happening. When you examine your skin, you find, much to your horror, that it has become translucent. There appears to be nothing beneath your skin either, aside from the air pumping into your holes. As you squirm helplessly, your eyes fall on the pool toys at the edges of the room, and you suddenly understand that you're being gene-modded into one. Perhaps the twins got bored of their other toys and wanted one more "alive". When you squirm and struggle, your body squeaks against itself, and against the latex bodies of your captors. The hose in your mouth pops free with a loud hiss, and you immediately try to call out... but to no avail. In a nearby mirror, you can see that your features now appear painted on, and your face bears a constant, gleeful grin. Soon, the second hose follows suit, hissing loudly and flopping around. You produce a muffled whine as the male Vulpis presses his fingers to your hole, forcing closed the new valve that now sits there. You try to plead with the twins, but your painted-on face is incapable of speech. The best you can do is shudder and squeak. Both Vulpis seem absolutely delighted with this outcome. . . . You squeak helplessly as your owners bounce and grind against your vinyl body, still utterly infatuated with you weeks after your transformation. They use you as a bed, both in private and with clients, humiliate you relentlessly, and constantly fawn over your stretchy, squeaky, translucent skin. Your black box bounces around inside your air-filled body, being the only part of you that wasn't transformed. It transmits fragments of your humiliated self to your ship, where hopefully the next you will do a better job. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Squeak and hiss" , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table> (display: "Image : Pooltoy")}

(if: $Player_WeightTier is 0)[You don't feel like eating a full meal, so you decide to order something light. Strolling up to the front counter, you ask for a packet of fries. The worker behind the desk looks at you funny, before hefting a bucket-sized portion of fries onto the counter. You stand for a few moments, confused. "I-is there meant to be so much?" "Next!" the worker yells, and you're pushed aside by another, much larger customer. You end up awkwardly carrying your absurdly huge meal to a nearby table. You're not even sure where to begin. You lift the first fry to your mouth, chew, and swallow. The lightly salted mouthful tastes pretty good, and you're soon chomping down on one after the other. Despite your enthusiasm, your stomach capacity is a fraction as much as the volume of food ahead of you. Soon, you're weakly raising fries to your face, groaning and wincing. You've hit your limit. Just as you resign yourself to waste the rest of the meal, a stranger suddenly places their hands on your shoulders. "C'mon, not full already, are you?" the unseen stranger asks, lifting another chip to your mouth. You try to decline, but they expertly poke the food past your lips. You whimper and whine as they push the remaining food into your mouth, even gripping your cheeks and helping you to chew when you grow tired. As the last fry disappears down your greedy gullet, your almost perfectly spherical gut groaning loud enough to draw attention, the stranger gives it one final heft from behind. "I'll see you again soon," they tell you, starry-eyed. "I can tell you're going to be HUGE." Their words leave you red-faced and beyond embarrassed...]{ }(else-if: $Player_WeightTier is 1)[You approach the front counter and ask for some fries. You're left shocked and confused when, instead of the small packet you expected, you're handed a bucket-sized container of fries. It's almost so big that you struggle to carry it. Lugging the abnormally massive portion towards a nearby table, you're unsure how to begin. You eat a fry, and then another, and suddenly build into a momentum that you hadn't been expecting. The food is delicious; you're getting hungrier just tasting it. Even as you begin to feel full, you're easily able to pack down more food. Why is this so easy? Has your chubbier body really made you this much of a glutton? Regardless of your newfound hunger, you soon approach your limit. A third of the fries still remain, and you're quickly resigning yourself to leaving the rest. As if on cue, a pair of hands suddenly grip your stomach from behind. "Don't stop now..." a stranger whispers in your ear, causing you to flinch. As you question who they are and contest their casual touching of your stomach, they bring a handful of fries to your mouth. Too bloated and full to protest⁠—or even really move⁠—you're powerless as they hand-feed you the rest of the meal. Even as your stomach begins to ache and the fabric of your jumpsuit begins to look visibly thin, they feed you. Soon, the last of the food disappears past your lips. Soft tears hang in the corners of your eyes, and you doubt you could endure another bite. As you whine and whimper, your pleading little noises drowned by the immense gurgling of your gut, the stranger suddenly reveals themselves to you. You look up at them, red-faced, as they stare down, licking their lips. They're a plump-looking Draconid, a dragon-like humanoid. Their scales are sky blue and soft-looking, their body coated in a plush layer of adipose. You estimate them to be a little smaller than you, albeit still quite chubby. Wordlessly, they kneel in front of you. They heft your bloated stomach with both hands and give it a prolonged, sloppy kiss. Although your jumpsuit separates their passionate kiss from your skin, you feel is as though the fabric isn't there. Red-faced, you can do nothing but whine and blush as the stranger bids you farewell, with a lingering tension between you both. You get the feeling you'll be seeing more of them...]{ }(else-if: $Player_WeightTier is 2)[Once upon a time, the sheer volume of food in front of you would've confused you, even frightened you. Now though, it just excites you. You hurry your bucket of fries over to a nearby table and begin ravenously wolfing them down. Much to your surprise, you actually finish the entire thing without much trouble. During your time on La'ard, you've ballooned into such an immense glutton that even this ridiculous portion wasn't a problem. Just as you're about to leave, a voice calls out to you. "Aww, don't stop now!" they say, with audible disappointment, and you turn to see a Draconid customer looking down at you. In their arms, they're holding another bucket of fries. "Tell you what... You can have this one, too... so long as I can touch your tummy a little. Deal?" Your face flushes a deep crimson. What did they just say? They want to touch your tummy...? You couldn't possibly agree to that, could you? They wobble the bucket of fries in front of your face, grinning as your stomach begins to growl loudly. Unable to look the dragon in the eyes, you whimper out your response. "Fine... just... don't get carried away" is all you're able to whine out, and the dragon responds by dumping the food in front of you and dropping between your knees. You begin eating, quickly realising you're still hungry, and do your best to ignore the embarrassing situation you've found yourself in. The Draconid hefts your stomach, squeezes it, pinches at your doughy folds, and even kisses at your middle. There's a lot of you to love nowadays, and although you have a tremendous amount of protective padding... you feel everything. Each overly-enthused kiss or particularly rough squeeze has you gasping—shocked, but never enough to stop eating. As the last of the food disappears, you realise something exceptionally embarrassing. While you were distracted with the food, completely focused on stuffing your face, the stranger undid the zipper on your jumpsuit. Having eaten so much that you're immobilised, you can do nothing but gasp and whine as the stranger, completely enamoured with your endlessly doughy body, showers it in sloppy, exceptionally enthusiastic kisses. By the time they're done, almost an hour later, you're breathless. Your stomach is damn with the stranger's saliva, and a crowd of jealous onlookers has formed to watch. With a final kiss that sends a ripple through your jelly-like flesh, the stranger pulls away. A string of saliva connects your fatty flesh to his lips. They leave you to pull on your jumpsuit again, something that you struggle to do for over an hour. The stranger watches, still enamoured with your excessive pudge, only leaving you once your body is hidden from view once more.]{ }(else-if: $Player_WeightTier is 3)[(goto: "Fries bad end")] --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Order something else" , "Fast food joint")</td> <td>(link-goto: "Head outside" , "La'ard")</td> </tr> </table>  (set: $Player_WeightTier to it + 1)}

(if: $Player_WeightTier is 0)[Approaching the front counter, you order a burger. For some reason, the man behind the counter looks at you in disbelief. Are they surprised you only ordered a burger? When your burger arrives, you realise the cause of their confusion. For a few moments, you even wonder if they've misunderstood you or even made some kind of mistake. It's a single burger, just as you requested... but... it's several times larger than you were expecting. Not wanting to be rude and having received such hospitality since you arrived, you decide to try and eat the gargantuan burger. When you lift it from the front counter, you're mortified at how heavy it is. You struggle, bow-legged, wondering why it isn't falling apart under its own weight, and carry it over to one of the free tables. It's too big to lift to your mouth, and you find yourself leaning down to take the first bite. You chew and chew... and your mind races. It's delicious! You take a few more frenzied bites, gulping down the mouthfuls of burger almost unthinkingly. By the time you regain your senses, it's because your stomach is physically beginning to hurt from how much you've eaten. In utter disbelief, you realise that you've wolfed down almost two-thirds of the gigantic burger. Your stomach visibly bulges from how much you've eaten. You're sore from being so stuffed... but are you really going to stop now? A part of you, the same part that recognises how tasty the food is, almost forbids you from stopping. Surely a few more bites couldn't hurt? Little by little, you struggle to swallow the remaining third of the burger, and although you doubted you'd manage it, soon, there isn't a single crumb left. Your stomach is now so bloated that it appears spherical and pregnant-looking. Frequent, pained grumbles emanate from your stuffed-full stomach as it struggles to digest the ridiculously-portioned meal you've just consumed. Having just barely consumed a single piece of food on La'ard, you're now left to groan and whine. Over an hour later, you're finally able to stagger to your feet. The previously solid bulge of your middle is now soft to the touch. It's not that your stomach is bloated anymore. Somehow, through methods unknown to you, you've metabolised the entire meal with almost perfect efficiency. Every calorie of the delicious burger now sits on your body, in particular across your now very chubby middle.]{ }(else-if: $Player_WeightTier is 1)[Approaching the front counter, you order a burger. The employee looks at you incredulously for a few moments before a grin spreads across their face. When he places your burger on the counter in front of you, it creaks beneath the weight of the meal. It looks gigantic, yet for some reason, that excites rather than worries you. You struggle to carry it to a nearby table, anticipation building with each step. No later than you take your seat, red-faced as it creaks softly beneath you, you're munching at the huge burger. It's delicious—perhaps one of the best things you've ever tasted. You can't help but wolf down each mouthful, ignoring your gurgling gut as it visibly bloats. Much to your embarrassment, you realise that the massive burger is just the right size for you. Any smaller and you might have walked away unsatisfied. Even as your stomach bulges to an obscene degree, you feel magnitudes more contentment than you do discomfort. Have you always been such a glutton? Or is this planet changing you somehow? Soon, the burger is gone. You can't quite believe it. Not that you finished the burger, you'd already made up your mind to eat the entire thing, but that you did it so quickly. You're honestly a little worried about how easily you ate so much food. Other patrons are openly staring at you... or rather, they're staring at your spherical, fatty gut. You should feel ashamed of yourself for indulging so excessively, but you instead feel... content. Much sooner than you would have expected, you've metabolised the entire meal. Your jumpsuit is starting to feel a little snug now that there are tens of thousands of additional calories beneath it.]{ }(else-if: $Player_WeightTier is 2)[Approaching the front counter, you order a burger. The employee looks utterly ecstatic and hurries to fulfil your order. When the burger arrives, however, there's a problem. It's just... so small. It's probably about the size of your torso when you first landed on the planet, but that's almost nothing to you now. You carry the burger to your table, where you immediately begin to scarf down greedy mouthfuls. You pay no mind as grease drips down the front of your jumpsuit. Much to your sorrow, you realise you were right about the portion size. The gargantuan burger barely fills you up at all. You feel ashamed that you've grown so huge and gluttonous that such a horrific portion barely qualifies as a snack. Your stomach bulges with each mouthful you gulp down, although your excessively obese body makes this very difficult to notice. You feel content in being so huge, although you're a little upset that you only asked for one burger. Ultimately, the burger is gone within only a few minutes. By the time you finish, other patrons are actively staring at you in utter disbelief. You are consumed by embarrassment, red-faced, as you realise that even the immense, towering fatties of La'ard now consider you a gluttonous monster. You metabolise the meal in just a few moments. You're sure that your jumpsuit is close to tearing, but it's felt that way for some time now. Truth be told, the thousands of calories you just metabolised are only a drop in the vast ocean of adipose that your body has become.]{ }(else-if: $Player_WeightTier is 3)[(goto: "Burger bad end")] --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Order something else" , "Fast food joint")</td> <td>(link-goto: "Head outside" , "La'ard")</td> </tr> </table>  (set: $Player_WeightTier to it + 1)}

(if: $Player_WeightTier is 0)[Feeling slightly parched, you approach the counter and ask for a small drink. The worker behind the counter looks at you incredulously, not quite sure he heard you right. "Just a drink?" he asks, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah, just a small drink", you reply. Your confirmation is met with additional confusion, although they're soon moving to complete your order. When it arrives, however, you immediately spot a problem. The "Small drink" is an oversized, 2.5-litre bottle. You want to return the gigantic bottle of soda, but you discover that the cap has already been unscrewed. It'd be a waste to give it back now. Reluctantly, you resign yourself to drinking the entire thing. You carry the 2.5-litre bottle across to a nearby table, sit down, and take the first swig. Unlike soda you've tasted previously, this is almost /too/ sweet. You experience a sugar rush after only a few gulps, and the euphoria that follows disrupts your awareness. Before you know what you're doing, you've drunk half of the bottle. Your stomach sloshes loudly, even while you remain stationary. Each new mouthful is practically audible as it hits your stomach. The volume of soda now filling your gut is soon almost too much to bear. You're forced to gulp down soda, burp pathetically until enough space opens up in your stomach, and then gingerly take the next sip. Mouthful by mouthful, you eventually finish the entire bottle. Your soda-bloated belly appears almost perfectly spherical, sloshing and gurgling completely by itself. You're constantly stifling loud burps, growing embarrassed as they draw the attention of the other customers. It takes almost an hour before your bloated, sloshing, pregnant-looking belly is manageable again. Your jumpsuit is so tight that it only serves to exaggerate the excessive curvature of your stomach.]{ }(else-if: $Player_WeightTier is 1)[Hoping for something sweet, you approach the front counter and order a soda. The bottle that is soon handed to you is ridiculously large. You're about to return it, until you notice that the cap has already been unscrewed. Immediately, you decide it'd be best to drink the entire thing. You tell yourself that you don't want to be wasteful, but you know deep down that's just an excuse and that, for some unknown reason, the idea of drinking such a ludicrous quantity of soda excites you. You hurry to a nearby table, take a seat, and heft the oversized bottle to your lips. Your heart races as the nectar-sweet liquid fills your mouth, and an immense feeling of satisfaction washes over you as you take that first gulp. That first gulp opens the floodgates, and you find yourself hurriedly swallowing down litres upon litres of soda. You drink so quickly that you barely even taste the subsequent mouthfuls, despite reassuring yourself that the taste is why you're being so greedy. Deep down, however, you know there's something more to your willingness to indulge so excessively–Something about the immense fullness you feel... and how it practically has you swooning. As the last of the soda disappears down your throat, you are left to examine your handiwork. Your stomach is bloated, practically full to bursting, and almost completely solid to the touch. The only give to your belly comes in the form of how it sloshes, not unlike a water balloon. When it moves, even a tiny bit, a gigantic, completely involuntary belch follows. You are wracked with embarrassment at this, and you get ready to head outside... until you realise that you're far, far too full to stand. Your gigantic belly is so heavy that you can't rise from the chair you're sitting in. It's over an hour before your stomach is manageable again. With each gurgle it makes or belch you produce, your bulging middle seems to pull in a few inches, growing lighter. Unfortunately, the liquid weight in your stomach has now evenly spread across your body as a fresh, soft new layer of fat. The new weight worries you... but at least you can stand again.]{ }(else-if: $Player_WeightTier is 2)[You feel a little parched, for sure, but what you really want is something sugary. Staggering up to the front counter, you order a soda, fully intending to down the entire thing in a matter of seconds. You're left confused for a few moments, however, when you're passed a hose instead. You trace the hose with your eyes, noticing that it snakes over to a barrel labelled "UltraCal Soda". Filled with instant excitement, you cram the tip of the hose into your mouth, and soon the worker behind the counter is spinning an oversized valve atop the barrel. Within an instant, your cheeks are pumped comically full of the incredibly sugary liquid. You struggle to gulp it all down, but find yourself enjoying the challenge. You brace yourself against the front counter, allowing your flabby belly to overhang the counter as it begins to grow. The copious flab of your belly is soon dwarfed by the sheer volume of liquid filling it, and the worker ahead of you immediately grows enamoured by your girth. His roaming hands knead and massage your stomach, and he only appears to grow more enamoured with each passing moment. Soon, his touching has given way to full-on kissing. He kisses your growing stomach like it's his long-lost love. It's only when your stomach is full and the hose begins bloating your cheeks comically large that it finally pops free. The worker slobbering over your stomach rushes to turn it off, and you're left to gulp down the remaining cheekfuls of soda, wincing as your stomach groans and sloshes, close to bursting. As the worker approaches you again, you wave your arms at him pathetically. You'll burst if he's rough with you–you just know it. Despite your desperate efforts to wave him away, he continues towards you, albeit with a knowing look. He presses a hand to your stomach, which gurgles painfully, and without hesitation, he gives it a little push. Instead of bursting like you had worried about, you instead let out the loudest, most colossal burp of your life. It practically shakes the building. The prolonged, utterly humiliating noise reverberates throughout the fast food joint, drawing the attention of the few customers who had remained oblivious to your plight until now. By the time you're done, your stomach is small enough to be manageable... although the additional heft that had sat in your stomach just moments ago now covers your entire body, as a brand new layer of pudge.]{ }(else-if: $Player_WeightTier is 3)[(goto: "Soda bad end")] --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Order something else" , "Fast food joint")</td> <td>(link-goto: "Head outside" , "La'ard")</td> </tr> </table>  (set: $Player_WeightTier to it + 1)}

You approach the front counter, each step you barely manage shaking the entire building, and ask for a burger. The employee standing in front of you looks up at you with a mixture of fear and adoration, red-faced at how far your copious gut overhangs the counter. He passes you the burger you ordered... and you just can't help yourself. You cram the entire thing into your face, gnawing and gulping down mouthful after mouthful with no trouble at all. You don't care about the massive mess you're making, the front of your jumpsuit soaked with grease. Having eaten the inhumanly massive meal in only a few seconds, you find that it barely filled you up at all. It must have been tens of thousands of calories, but it makes no visible effect on your already monstrously fatty body. Your discontent is only calmed when the employee behind the counter passes up another burger. You hesitate for a few moments. Is this really a line you want to cross? ... And more importantly... is this choice one you can come back from? As you prepare to refuse the second burger, genuinely worried about your well-being, your stomach suddenly rumbles. Consumed by such rampant hunger that all hesitation goes out the window, you hurriedly accept the new meal. Just like the first, it's gone in seconds. The third then follows, then the fourth... If there was a line to be crossed, you've crossed it. With each mouthful, your body bloats a few more inches, and in your heart, you immediately know that every single one is permanent. Before long, you've lost count of how many burgers you've eaten. Your fatty rolls are tearing open vast sections of your jumpsuit, pouring out of the fast-food joint's entrances and exits, and drawing a considerable crowd. Rather than being enraged by the destruction your megalithic, ridiculously fatty body has caused, everyone is utterly enamoured by it. Strangers scrabble up your endless folds to offer you more food, which you unthinkingly accept. Before long, your body has grown so massive and indistinct that your doughy rolls become visible from space. The evidence of your excessive self-indulgence is now visible to everyone in even fleeting orbit around the planet. As the ocean of flab that now makes up your body crosses the threshold beyond which any hope of return is almost impossible, your black box activates. After several failed transmissions, it's finally able to broadcast through all of the flab. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Gurgle and moan" , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table>}

You waddle over to the front counter but never get as far as placing your order. Instead, someone interrupts you. "Hold up, big guy." A strangely familiar voice suddenly calls out. You turn to spot a blue-scaled Dragon, who smiles at you warmly. "I'll get you as much food as you want... on one condition." "Ok... what's the condition?" you ask, distrustful but far too hungry to pass up an opportunity for food. "Become my boyfriend!" he blurts out, with a mixture of hope and hunger on his pointed face. "W-what? I barely know you!" you blurt out, your fatty body wobbling as you flat-out refuse his offer. "That's a shame..." he responds, blatantly feigning disappointment. "Having someone to bring you food, pamper you, take care of you... It might've been nice. Especially since, y'know, I own this place." W-what!? He's the owner!? Immediately, you're thinking about how much food a boyfriend that owns an entire restaurant could get you. You resist the temptation at first, but... "W-well, let's not be too hasty..." you whimper out, fighting yourself with each word. "Maybe we could... try it out?..." "Sounds good to me", he responds with a smile. "Let me give you the "Boyfriend experience", and if you're not 100% satisfied, then you can leave, no hard feelings." "O-ok", you respond, and the dragon steps forward to order your meal. The workers begin to scramble around, eager to impress their boss. What are you doing...? You're really agreeing to a relationship just so you can get extra food...? Are you really this greedy!? "Yes," you think to yourself after a few moments. "I am..." You sit down at a nearby table, panicking a little when the chair creaks beneath you. Not long after, your new "boyfriend" appears with several buckets of fries. With one hand pressing into the endless softness of your belly, he raises the first fry to your lips. There's no use resisting. You're a glutton, a fatty, you know that. You chomp down the fry enthusiastically, much to the dragon's delight. Accepting your gluttony more and more by the second, you willingly allow the dragon to feed you. You gobble, gulp, and wolf down food at a speed almost faster than he can push it past your lips. Soon, he just tips the bucket of fries into your waiting maw, letting out excited huffs and squeaks as you swallow it all down. He's utterly enamoured with you: His big, greedy boyfriend. He makes sure that you eat every last drop of the food he's brought you. Bucket after bucket, mouthful after mouthful, until you feel like you might burst. For reasons you can't possibly explain, the knowledge of that excites you beyond explanation. With a final, almighty crunch, the chair beneath you disintegrates. Your entire blubbery body, which is now well over a ton, falls to the floor with a gigantic flop. The building shakes, and the eyes of anyone who wasn't already staring are drawn to your megalithic, jelly-like, and now practically immobile body. "Don't worry, love." the dragon whispers down at you, their words barely overheard above the gurgling of your stomach. "I'll take you home..." . . . A few weeks later, you are unrecognisable. Your face is easily missed among the literal dozens of tons of pudge and countless, doughy rolls. Your new "boyfriend" has seen to it that you digest hundreds of thousands of calories a day, never satisfied with how big you become, but constantly enamoured by you in every single way. As you grow larger and softer, their affections only grow more intense, as do the meals they lovingly feed you. You have accepted your new life as an immobile, blubbery behemoth. You hold genuine excitement in your heart when your boyfriend brings you a meal, which of course, occurs dozens of times an hour. They follow every meal with a prolonged, intimate exploration of your growing body. They heft, kiss, and occasionally bite at you, and you adore it. Reduced to permanent immobility, your adventure is brought to a definitive, doughy end, and your black box activates. A copy of your mind is transmitted back to your ship, where a mobile clone will continue your journey. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Kiss your new boyfriend" , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table>}

Waddling up to the front counter, you order a soda. You're left confused, however, when the worker reaches for your face. Before you can stumble your fatty body away from him, he's affixing a muzzle to your face. You immediately spot a hose snaking from the muzzle to a gigantic barrel labelled "UltraCal Soda". A combination of worry and excitement wells up inside you, especially when the worker turns a valve, and you're able to see the first mouthfuls of fluid squeezing their way up the hose. The first mouthful bulges your cheeks, the second inflating them to an almost comical size. With no other option, you begin gulping down the fluid, even finding that you adore the taste. Multiple mouthfuls of almost sickly-sweet soda pour into your bulging cheeks every second, and you horrify yourself by being able to meet that pace. Even with litres of liquid pouring down your throat each second, it takes an embarrassingly long time for you to feel full. It's one of many reminders in recent memory of how insatiable and gluttonous you've become. As your belly bloats and rounds, it seems almost cartoon-like in how stretchy it's become. You're equal parts embarrassed by what your body has become, and how easily it adapted to meet your hunger. As the curvature of your already monstrous stomach becomes more and more pronounced, you're left red-faced as other customers begin to fawn over it. For a moment, you wonder if this was planned–a trap–but instead, you discover a much more simple, much more embarrassing explanation. ... You are simply one of the largest people they've ever seen. Dozens of hands pad at your endlessly blubbery body, and you whimper as comparisons are made between your softest parts and the undeniable firmness of your soda-stuffed stomach. When one of the customers wonders aloud how much of what you're drinking will soon sit as fresh adipose, you feel your tail wagging involuntarily. Soon, though, it seems you're approaching your limit. You reach for the hose in your mouth- And find that your arms have grown too thick and blubbery to reach. You panic, trying desperately to grab the hose. Although you eventually do, managing to grip a slack section of hose that's become stuck between your folds, you realise the muzzle covering your face prevents you from tugging it free. The only way to remove the hose is through dexterity, and mobility, which you no longer possess. . . . Your whimpers are drowned out by the sound of your gurgling gut and the constant burps that force their way up your throat. Weeks of being inflated with soda have taken an undeniable toll on you. Your body resembles a giant water balloon, although your excessive flab upsets the otherwise spherical shape. Instead, you're closer in appearance, shape, and utility to a particularly unusual waterbed. The only way that anyone can locate your face is by following the sound of the colossal belches you produce, hissing out around the hose still strapped to your muzzle. Of course, there's little need to find it aside to tease you further. The hose keeps you fed, albeit with nothing but ultra-calorific soda. Having been pumped so massive that your physique is permanently, irreparably ruined, you can do nothing but wobble, slosh and belch. Your black box quickly detects how useless you've become, activating soon after. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Slosh and belch" , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table>}

(if: $Player_WeightTier is 0)[You approach a panel mounted on the far wall of your room and order room service. Strangely, there's no option to choose your meal; instead, it seems it'll be a complete surprise. Not long after placing your order, the Ursine receptionist arrives with a covered tray. They lift it to reveal a decoratively organised arrangement of cookies. With a smile on their face, they encourage you to try one. You raise one of the cookies to your mouth and take a bite. It's delicious! Within a couple of seconds, you've eaten the first cookie and pulled up the second. That, too, disappears, this time in a couple of hurried mouthfuls. Becoming increasingly fixated on the delicious snacks, you wolf down dozens of them without thinking about it. Even as your belly rounds and your body grows noticeably softer, you can't stop yourself from eating, having fallen into a satisfied, quiet little stupor. Soon, the plate is empty. The receptionist's hands rub the pronounced sphere of your stomach, cooing at you as they tidy up and leave. You stand motionless for a few minutes—in a daze that you can't quite explain. When you finally break from it, shaking your head, you immediately notice how much bigger you've gotten. Poking a finger to your middle, you discover several inches of brand-new adipose, rendering your tummy soft to the touch. You pat at yourself for a little longer, in a mixture of disbelief... and satisfaction.]{ }(else-if: $Player_WeightTier is 1)[Feeling peckish, you approach the panel mounted on the far wall of your room and put in a request for room service. No food options are listed, so it'll be a complete surprise. Soon after, the bear-like receptionist appears with a covered tray. They lift it, revealing a towering stack of pancakes and an oversized jug of syrup to match. Without even asking you, the receptionist drenches the stack of pancakes in a small river of thick, sticky syrup. Once the pancakes are sufficiently saturated, they poke a spoonful into your mouth. You're a little taken aback at having been directly fed by them, never mind completely unprompted as well, although the amazing, sweet taste crashing over your tastebuds almost immediately distracts you. When they offer you the second mouthful, you hurriedly wolf it down. With increasing placidity, you also gulp down each following mouthful. Even as the food completely fills your stomach, you can't stop eating. Given your abnormal voracity, it's no wonder that the entire stack of pancakes soon sits in your bulging stomach. With the pancakes gone, you're surprised when the bear offers you the pitcher of syrup. You know immediately what they're suggesting—and a less inhibited you would immediately refuse—but... You lift the pitcher of syrup to your lips, letting the sugary, sticky liquid fill your cheeks until they begin to bulge. You swallow, and a wave of warmth traces down your throat and into your heavy stomach. What little neurons aren't occupied with the taste begin to lap at the idea that, maybe, there's something extra in the syrup. Unbeknownst to you, as more of it has fallen into your stomach, you've grown considerably softer and rotund. Before long, the syrup is gone as well. The receptionist hefts and squeezes at your belly, elated by how much you've grown. They leave you as you begin to regain your senses, and you're soon worriedly patting and grabbing at yourself, terrified that you've gained so much weight from only a single meal.]{ }(else-if: $Player_WeightTier is 2)[Your stomach grumbles loudly, and you decide it's time to eat. You stumble over to the panel hanging on the far wall of your room and order room service. There's no option to select what kind of food you receive, and you suppose it must be a surprise. Soon, the Ursine receptionist arrives with a covered tray. They excitedly pull off the lid to reveal a gigantic chocolate cake, some 4 or 5 times larger than any you've seen before. They're looking at you expectantly, and you can do nothing but stare in disbelief. That's way too big for you, isn't it? Why is this making you so excited... The receptionist expertly cuts a slice from the gigantic cake and pushes it to your lips. Almost on a reflex, you gulp it down, finding that it's beyond delicious. Before you know what you're doing, you've pushed the receptionist aside and are cramming handfuls of cake into your mouth. Soon, you've consumed it all. You half-sit-half-fall onto the bed, and it creaks loudly beneath you. You feel warm, heavy and doughy-headed. As you confusedly burp and groan, unsure how you became such a glutton, the receptionist crouches in front of you. They heft, pad and squeeze at your bloated, spherical gut, enamoured with how much you were able to eat. As the food digests, you slowly regain your awareness. You're embarrassed to find the receptionist kissing your bloated belly, and they bid you farewell not long after. Now alone, you are left to touch and examine your body, worried to find that you've brought yourself right to the precipice of immobility.]{ }(else-if: $Player_WeightTier is 3)[(goto: "Room service bad end")] --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Whimper at your new pudge" , "La'ard Visitor room")</td> </tr> </table>  (set: $Player_WeightTier to it + 1)}

(if: $Player_WeightTier is 0)[You stand in the centre of the room, taking a moment to ensure you have enough space. Following a routine from the Academy, you do a series of stretches and small exercises. Truthfully, you skimp on quite a few of them, particularly pushups. Although you're lithe and fairly flexible, you are severely lacking in the strength department⁠—especially for someone who's supposed to be a soldier. By the end of the short workout, you're a little out of breath and feel silently grateful that none of your superiors are there to witness your underwhelming performance.]{ }(else-if: $Player_WeightTier is 1)[You stand in the middle of the room, padding idly at your plump middle. You'd be disciplined if any of your superiors saw how chubby you've gotten. With moderate embarrassment, you begin working out. You begin with some stretches, although you quickly discover that your plump body makes some movements difficult. Your adipose restricts your movements, ruining stretches that you should be capable of performing. Defeated, you try to do some pushups. You manage exactly one before your arms give out, and you fall to the floor with a loud thump. Ironically, the same pudge that has ruined your workout also protected you from the impact. Your body and pride are both lightly bruised, and you end the workout. Despite your failure, you do feel like you made a tiny bit of progress.]{ }(else-if: $Player_WeightTier is 2)[You stand in the middle of the room, worriedly squeezing at yourself. Your body is covered in a thick, soft layer of adipose. Despite your desperate exploration of your body, only a handful of places show any kind of firmness at all. You decide to try something else but soon find that your efforts are in vain. Pushups are an impossibility for you now. Your arms cannot support your weight, and even if they did, when you lean forward, you are immediately lying on your plush belly. Situps are similarly blocked by the bloated circumference of your stomach. When you lie on your back, you can barely move at all. You rise to your feet, frustrated and red-faced, and attempt to do a squat. It results in you falling backwards onto the bed, your legs giving out from the weight you expected them to lift. Panting and drenched in sweat, you can do nothing, just huff in quiet disbelief at how unfit you've become, your body softly wobbling from each ragged breath. Regardless of your utter failure, you do feel like you burned some calories... although it was probably just because of all the weight you're carrying around.] --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Tidy up" , "La'ard Visitor room")</td> </tr> </table> (if: $Player_WeightTier > 0)[(set: $Player_WeightTier to it - 1)]}

(if: $Player_WeightTier is 0)[You stride over to the full-length mirror on one wall of your room. You are relieved to find your body is exactly as you remember it. Your physique is slim, almost skinny, although you do seem to have a disproportionately plump rear and thighs. The slender, slightly pear-shaped quality of your body gives your physique a distinctly feminine quality, much to your embarrassment.]{ }(else-if: $Player_WeightTier is 1)[You walk over to the full-length mirror on the wall of your room. You're considerably chubbier than you expected. New adipose coats your body, which is now plush and soft all over. Turning your gaze downwards, you find that your cute, soft stomach now partially obscures your manhood. You're still able to reach it, thank God, but you get the impression that won't be for long. What's in no danger of going unseen, by stark contrast, if your fatty rear. Your plush behind is huge and soft, practically inviting open-palmed slaps from all that see it.]{ }(else-if: $Player_WeightTier is 2)[You stumble over to the nearby mirror, almost immediately huffing and puffing, out of breath from even this short journey. It's difficult to recognise the person in the mirror. There isn't a single inch of your body that isn't covered in a thick layer of soft pudge. Your eyes drift downwards, and you're embarrassed to find that you can no longer see your own manhood. With some difficulty, however, you're able to reach it. As you struggle to examine yourself, you slowly realise just how much you wobble. Every minute movement sends ripples through your fatty flesh. Your stomach wobbles when you walk, and your overly plump chest looks like an impressive pair of breasts. Your ass is utterly gigantic, far too big for any seat, and your tree trunk thighs are stretching your jumpsuit to its limit. You're anxious, albeit immensely excited, by how large you've become.]{ }(else-if: $Player_WeightTier is 3)[You waddle over to the nearby mirror, huffing and wheezing as you struggle to make the short journey across the room. When you arrive at the mirror, you are instantly red-faced. You are monstrously overweight, resembling a waddling, constantly jiggling mountain of lard. The ultra-wide mirror can only show about two-thirds of you at a time. You turn your gaze downwards, finding that your fatty, overhanging belly completely obscures your manhood. You try to reach for it but end up grabbing various shelves of lard instead, much to your dismay. Your excessive curves, hidden crotch, and fatty faux breasts make assessing your sex almost impossible at a glance. You have grown so large that you appear as a genderless, blubbery thing, too big to be properly assessed. Sections of your jumpsuit have ruptured, allowing sections of your fatty flesh to spill out. The fabric across your comically massive ass and thighs is faring particularly badly. If you get much bigger than this, you think to yourself; you'll be rendered completely immobile. For some reason, that excites you more than you're willing to admit.] --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Turn away" , "La'ard Visitor room")</td> </tr> </table>}

You're so constantly, unrelentingly famished. Your stomach won't stop groaning, almost as if it's threatening to eat itself just because you haven't eaten in a short while. Waddling over to the panel on the far wall of your room, you hurriedly order room service. The order will be a surprise, apparently, a fact that only serves to make you hungrier. Your imagination takes hold.... will there be a giant feast? A buffet that spans rooms, maybe? Or perhaps they'll just trail a long hose in here, leaking sweet cream or sticky syrup? You want all of those and more. When the receptionist arrives, you're far from let down. They haven't brought you any of those things you fantasised about, but they've brought you food, and that's all you care about. Multiple carts of food trail down the hallway, and they push them one by one into your room. They uncover plate after plate, revealing cakes, waffles, pancakes, cookies and more. There are all kinds of baked goods and sugary sweets. You open your mouth and willingly allow them to push food past your lips. You gulp and swallow, "W-wait, I can't-" you blurt out, with your mouth half full of food. You are only a few grams from becoming completely immobile; you can feel it. "Ok... we can stop here. Wouldn't want to push you over the edge, now would we?" the receptionist responds, pulling back from your mountainously doughy body. "... unless?" They hold a slice of cake, turning it in their hands as if to examine it. You can't help but stare, your mouth watering. How are you hungry again already? You ate literally seconds ago... Your willpower splintering and snapping, like a piece of furniture beneath your gargantuan rump, you immediately cave. You grab the cake from their hands and gulp it down, immediately falling backwards onto your expansive ass. You can't get up again. The bear coos down at you and continues to push handfuls of food past your lips. The knowledge that you have just completely, willingly ruined your own mobility feels you with immense, shameful joy. . . . You let out a whine as an overweight man throws himself atop your room-sized stomach, letting out a sigh. He is completely nude, feeling no need to cover himself when the only things in the room are himself and pieces of furniture. That's what you are now, a piece of especially doughy, gluttonous furniture—the most sought-after bed in the entire visitor centre. Visitors are allowed, encouraged even, to tease you, overfeed you, and do all kinds of debauched things to your fatty body during their stay. Now, a few weeks since you last moved on your own, you've grown to adore your new predicament. You receive constant food and attention, and no longer have any difficult responsibilities to manage. Having resigned yourself to a new life as a nought but a doughy, pampered fat-bed, your black box soon activates. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Jiggle and wobble" , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table>}

You are surrounded by dozens of individuals clad in what used to be long, flowing robes... although now, most of them appear so pudgy beneath their clothing that none of the fabric is left to flow. They look at you with keen interest, yet none approach you just yet. You recognise one of them as Idella, the priestess who first welcomed you to the planet. She appears to be preparing for a ritual of some kind, and behind her, there is a gigantic door built into the mountainside. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Ask about the cult->Ask about cult]]</td> <td>(if: $Laard_AskedAboutCult is true)[ [[Join the ritual->Join cult's ritual]] ](else:)[(? ? ?)]</td> <td>[[Approach the door->Cult door]]</td> </tr> </table>}

You approach Idella with a number of questions, and she's all too happy to explain. "What is this? Some kind of... cult?" you ask, hesitating on the last word, worried about offending the pudgy bear. Luckily, she just smiles at you, seemingly overjoyed by your curiosity. She tells you that the vast majority of the residents of La'ard are followers of an old Terran Church, which existed thousands of years prior and worshipped a terrestrial Deity formed from the gluttonous desires of mankind. Through the actions of one individual, who was the most gluttonous person to ever exist, the Deity was eventually able to escape and permeate large swaths of Terran culture. In time, the Terrans left their world, and so too did some of the Deity's power. It quickly discovered that other races were just as open to gluttony. The Deity is appeased by the overindulgence of mortals, who can use it to reach out into new portions of the universe and grow their flock, just as he did with a little town long, long ago. Idella finishes by affirming the Deity's benevolence, how it created the entire planet of La'ard as a utopia for its followers, and how it only enjoys the company of consenting individuals. "I find that story... a little hard to believe," you truthfully reply, not quite ready to accept the supernatural explanations that Idella just provided. She responds with something you wouldn't have expected, not in a million years. "You can talk with them, you know," she tells you. "If you partake in a ritual to get their attention." She motions to a nearby group of cultists, who all appear to be diligently painting symbols across a flat section of the rock face. It seems you can pursue this mystery further... if you're willing to face the consequences. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Finish speaking" , "La'ard - Mountain")</td> </tr> </table> (set: $Laard_AskedAboutCult to true)}

{(goto: "Cult ritual bad end") }

(if: $Laard_DoneRitual is false)[You approach the ornate door carved into the mountain. The entryway is gigantic, large enough to allow even the fattiest of La'ard's residents to enter... should they prove themselves. As you near the door, Idella calls out to you. "Apologies, my child," she says. "You have not yet proven yourself. I doubt the doors will open for you." You brush aside her words, turning your attention back to the door. Its surface is intricate, detailed and flowing, seeming to shift and move as you stare at them, denying you the ability to see any single detail clearly. Outstretching your hand, you press a cautious palm to the door's surface. In an instant, you're snatching back your hand. The door felt almost painfully hard to the touch and very, very cold. You clench your hand into a fist and nestle it beneath your arm, hurrying to warm it up again. "I warned you," Idella says, now standing by your side. "Until you prove yourself, the doors will not yield their contents to you". You let out a tired sigh. Aside from taking part in the strange ritual, no other options present themselves to you. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Try again later" , "La'ard - Mountain")</td> </tr> </table>}]{ }(else:)[You approach the door carved into the mountain. Its entryway is ginormous, appearing specially built to accommodate even the fattiest visitor. As you near the door, Idella stops you for a moment. She smiles at you and nods before standing aside. With her blessing, you continue forward. You can make out the door's features now. It is ornate, indeed appearing to be carved from the very mountain itself. The door's surface is covered in intricate, hand-carved depictions of individuals in various stages of weight gain. At the door's centre, there an almost perfect spherical individual is depicted. You look around for a keyhole, a knocker or maybe even a button, but there's nothing of the sort. Instead, you find yourself reaching out to touch the spherical carving's stomach. Your palm meets the stone circumferences of its belly... ... and you find that it is soft. You hesitate for a moment, confused. You can feel that this is stone, but it's pillowy and soft. You squeeze and squash at it, amazed and enamoured by the plushness of the faux belly. You're soon more interested in playing with the stone stomach than the door it's attached to. Just as you're really getting carried away, however, someone—something—calls out to you. "I knew I was right about you!" the voice booms. The nearby cultists fall to their knees in utter reverence as the door creaks open. Ahead of you is pitch darkness, yet you find yourself walking before you realise it. You suspect the choice was not one you made yourself. You turn just in time to see Idella waving at you before the doors swing closed, leaving you alone in the dark. Standing here alone in the pitch darkness, you can't help but think of the ritual you partook in. It reminds you of that, but now you're physically here. No hocus pocus or spiritual communion brought you to this place... you walked... and as such, with the doors closed, you are utterly trapped for the time being. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Stumble through the dark" , "La'ard - Deity reveal")</td> </tr> </table> }]

You are standing in the plush and comfortable abode of The Deity Of Gluttony. The air is warm, and a soft, sweet scent can be smelled. With all these pillows lying around, you even feel a little bit sleepy. Ahead of you stands The Deity themselves. They're keenly watching you, waiting to see what you'll do. From time to time, their eyes flicker up and down your body, no doubt wondering what you'd look like were you a few tons heavier. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Who are you?->Deity - Who are you?]] </td> <td>[[What's your story?->Deity - Your story?]] </td> <td>[[What is "indulgence"?->Deity - Indulgence?]] </td> </tr> <tr> <td>(if: $Laard_AbleToIndulge is true)[ [[Indulge->Deity - Indulge]] ](else:)[(? ? ?)]</td> <td>(if: $Laard_CanSayPhrase is true)[ [[?->Deity - Phrase]] ](else:)[(? ? ?)]</td> <td>(link-goto: "Leave" , "La'ard - Mountain")</td> </tr> </table>}

You approach Idella and ask to join a ritual, keen on communicating with this "Deity" she keeps talking about. With a smile on her face, she immediately accepts. She leads you to a group of cultists who are waiting nearby. In an instant, the group of pudgy worshippers begin to strip away your clothing. You begrudgingly allow this without resistance–it must be part of the ritual. You are soon left naked, shielding your unmentionables from the elated crowd that now stares at you. A cool chill blows across the mountaintop, leaving you shivering. You are informed by Idella and the other cultists that you'll be much warmer very, very soon. The priestess steps forward and offers you a small pill. When you hesitate, she waits patiently for you. "This will make you a suitable vessel for our Deity. The choice is yours whether or not to take it. We cannot force you, although the ritual will end if you fail to swallow it." With understandable apprehension, you reach out and take the pill. You push past your lips, finding that it takes ridiculously sweet, and then you swallow. The effects are immediate. As soon as the strange pill hits your stomach, waves of heat begin radiating outwards. The warmth fills you in an instant, and soon there's fresh adipose spreading beneath your skin. In a matter of moments, you go from lithe and skinny to excessively plump and chubby. For some reason, it feels amazing. The surrounding cultists bring their hands to your fattening body, enamoured with each new gram of fat that forms. Soon, "chubby" becomes a tremendous understatement. You are now "Obese". Your chest, which once was flat, now bears so much pudge that it appears to be a pair of breasts. You imagine quite a few women would be jealous of your new tits, although you doubt they'd be jealous of the rest of you. Below your "breasts", your stomach is becoming equally plump and comical. It pushes out so far in front of you that you can no longer see the ground in front of you. Similarly, your plump ass–which was already pretty big–becomes far too gigantic for any seat. You are grateful only that it balances out the weight of your stomach, allowing what little balance you retain to keep you upright. Through all of these changes, the cultists worship you with fervent, feverish vigour. As your body becomes one of the largest they've ever seen, they begin to paint symbols across your flab. This only seems to accelerate the process and leave you feeling particularly sensitive as well. The pill has brought you to the precipice of immobility. "One calorie more," you think to yourself ", and I'll be a blob forever". The pill, by design, does not push you any further. Instead, it only brings you to the knife's edge of utter, blubbery oblivion. To a deity of gluttony, you think, you must now be practically irresistible. You take a deep breath, the hymns of the cultists swell, and the symbols begin to glow. . . . Suddenly, the overwhelming affections of the cultists fade away, and you find yourself in an inky black void. All you can feel is your own immobile body, and the absence of anything else only seems to intensify how it feels. You flinch as fingers press into and between your endless folds. When you wriggle to confront the culprit, you don't find anyone. Instead, there is just a shadowy hand touching you. Much to your horror, dozens more are soon snaking out from your gloomy surroundings, roaming haphazardly across your flesh, groping and squeezing at you far more thoroughly than the cultists could have ever hoped to manage. Distracted by the shadowy palms caressing your endless, fatty body, you're too distracted to spot the figure approaching you. By the time you do, they're already touching your stomach. From what characteristics you can make out in the dim darkness, you don't recognise the individual in front of you as an alien species. They resemble an anthropomorphised jackal. "Beautiful." They say, hefting at you, testing the weight of your stomach and growing more interested in you by the second. When the jackal-like deity touches you, the area immediately plumpens up to a ludicrous size. There's great care in how he squeezes and gropes at you, however, and you soon understand that he's modifying you on purpose. "Perfect, perfect..." they whisper out as if guiding you through some strange dance. You feel the pride in their words, and soon you feel it in your heart as well. You enjoy the praise, but more than that, you enjoy being huge. When you reach a plateau, wherein all of your features blur into one gigantic, amorphous blob of pudge, fat, and gluttony, the Deity stands back to admire their handiwork. There is pure, genuine love in their eyes. Suddenly, they throw themselves against your jelly-like body, sinking into your flab with the utmost ease. There's something more to this, though, and soon the jackal is gone. You pad and heft at yourself with your unwieldy, doughy hands but cannot find him. "Very interesting..." you suddenly hear them chuckle. You hear their words echo inside your head. "When the next "you" returns here, come visit me, won't you?" Your heart races. What do they mean? Do they know about your cloning bay? "Yes," they respond before you even ask a question. "As my vessel, albeit a temporary one, I am privy to all your little secrets." You feel fear building inside you... until it's suddenly quashed from within. Like a pair of fatty fingers enclosing a candle, your worries are simply snuffed out. "W-wait-" you manage to huff out. "Why the next "me"? Why can't I just visit you myself?" There's booming laughter from within your mind, almost loud enough to give you a headache. "Oh, piteous little morsel. You didn't really think you could withstand being my vessel, did you?" Although you can't possibly explain why you immediately understand that your old life has ended. For some reason, that brings you an immense sense of purpose and an even greater sense of joy. . . . Back in the real world, you gasp and moan as your fatty body spills outwards. An ocean of flab that is just barely slower than the fleeing cultists. With the Deity's "blessing", you will never lose a single calorie of weight again. You are doomed to an immobile, doughy-headed, but completely pampered existence for the rest of your days. With pleading whimpers, you can do nothing as cultists climb atop your body and begin to fawn over you. They squeeze, grope and kiss at you, and you feel everything amplified a hundred times. Your body is so megalithic and overly sensitive that your ego soon dissolves beneath the weight of the mind-breaking pleasure you endure. Your black box activates soon after–with your new master's permission, of course. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Accept their worship" , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table> (set: $Laard_DoneRitual to true)}

Approaching the landing pad, you request permission to leave the planet. (if: $Player_WeightTier is 0)[The landing pad attendant looks you up and down with genuine disbelief. "That jumpsuit got hammerspace tech or something?" he asks, approaching you and pulling at the rubbery fabric. After a few moments, he realises that you're genuinely as skinny as you appear. "Oh... huh, what the hell?" he blurts out, as if nobody's ever left the planet so skinny before. "I guess you were just passing by or something. Go on ahead." Red-faced, you approach your ship and head inside.]{ }(else-if: $Player_WeightTier is 1)[As you approach the landing pad, you find yourself unusually out of breath. It's true that you've put on some considerable softness, but you never expected it to impact you so much. You're soon stopped by the landing attendant, who, completely unprovoked, places his hand on your chubby middle. "Aw, is this all?" he teasingly asks, and you're immediately too embarrassed to respond. It's true that a part of you wants to stay and see what happens... but you can always return some other time. With a chuckle, the man waves you over to a nearby machine. When you step inside, you're immediately bombarded by a shower of lights—a thorough scan, precisely estimating every gram of fat you've gained. You shield your eyes as the lights intensify and are surprised when the machine hisses open only a few seconds later. Padding at yourself, you find that you're just as lithe as when you first arrived. The landing attendant waves you goodbye as you board your ship.]{ }(else-if: $Player_WeightTier is 2)[As you stumble towards the landing pad, you're quickly noticed by the landing attendant. He strides towards you excitedly, poking a finger to your doughy, frequently-wobbling middle. "Damn! La'ard really did a number on you, huh?" he asks, squeezing at your middle with such enthusiasm that you're too overwhelmed to respond. After a few moments of coaxing cute, embarrassed little whines from your lips, he waves you over to a nearby machine. You step inside, increasingly embarrassed, as you realise your ass and belly touch opposite sides of the machine. Were you any bigger, you'd have genuine trouble squeezing inside. The door whirrs closed, and you're soon bombarded by all manner of lights—precise scans designed to approximate just how much adipose you've gained. You cover your eyes as the lights intensify, and a few moments later, the doors are hissing open. As you step out of the machine, you find that your movements are no longer inhibited by excess weight. You are just as skinny as you were when you arrived. The landing attendant waves at you as you leave, although they seem a little let down that you are.]{ }(else-if: $Player_WeightTier is 3)[As you hobble towards the landing pad, your spherical body wobbling and jiggling with every step you barely manage, the landing attendant stops you. "Jees! You must be the biggest one today!" he blurts you, his comment putting a deep shade of red in your fatty cheeks. He waves you into a nearby machine, but you're genuinely too big to fit inside by yourself. It's only when the attendant pushes and shoves at you, throwing his weight against the copious mountain of pudge that your body has become, that it finally all squashes inside. The door shuts tightly behind you, and suddenly the machine whirrs to life. Lights trace down the seemingly endless curves of your blubbery body, detecting every gram of fat you've gained. You mistake a sudden glow as coming from the machine, but soon realise that it's coming from your skin. You shield your eyes as your excessive adipose is transmuted into light and reabsorbed by the machine. A literal ton of pudge is soon painlessly extracted from your body. When the machine reopens, you hurriedly step out. You almost fall, however, having become used to overcompensating for your jiggling stomach. Now, unimpeded by excessive weight, it feels as if you're living in low gravity. Exploring your body, you find that you're just as lithe and skinny as when you arrived. For reasons you can't quite explain, the loss of your pudge makes you feel a little sad. The landing attendant waves you goodbye as you board your ship. He seems upset to see you go.]{ (set: $Player_WeightTier to 0)} --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Take the helm" , "Ship - Bridge")</td> </tr> </table>}

(goto: "Slime encounter")

(if: $Player_WeightTier is 0)[Keen to explore, you head to the outskirts of town. Unfortunately, there doesn't appear to be much besides the seemingly infinite fields of crops in every direction. Just as you're about to turn back, you spot something moving nearby. You reflexively reach for your blaster but are soon letting out a sigh of relief. Ahead of you is a small creature. It appears to be a sentient slime of some kind, about the size of your torso. It hops along merrily until it spots you, and it immediately seems curious. You drop to your knees and outstretch your arm and are elated when the small, gooey creature allows you to pet them. They seem completely harmless. So harmless, in fact, that you quickly let your guard down. That was a mistake. In an instant, the slime turns, looks you in the face, and then leaps directly at you. You claw at its gooey body as it surrounds your head, and you begin to suffocate. You gasp for air, but to no avail. What's worse, as soon as you open your mouth, the slime begins to push inside. Your cheeks bulge, and you gag as the creature forces its way past your lips and down your throat. As the last of the slime wriggles down your throat, you're able to breathe again. Gasping, and with tears in your eyes, you immediately reach for your bulging stomach. You can feel the slime writhing around in your belly, but what's worse is that anyone can see what's happening to you. Your spherical, slime-bloated stomach wobbles and groans enough to draw the attention of a few onlookers from the edge of the town. It doesn't last long, though. Soon the sloshing and wobbling of your stomach cease, although when it does, it feels like your stomach is just as soft and jello-like as the slime that fed itself to you. You rise to your feet, horrified that a sentient creature just forced you to eat it... and that its weight sits around your, now quite plump, middle.]{ }(else-if: $Player_WeightTier is 1)[Deciding to venture from the town, you make your way to the outskirts. You quickly find yourself growing tired, and an idly pat on your chubby middle immediately reveals the culprit. Embarrassed by your new flab, you decide to push yourself a little. You stray further from the town than originally intended. By the time you realise you've strayed too far, it's already too late. There's movement from all sides, and you're horrified to find yourself surrounded by a small gathering of sentient slimes. You turn and begin to run, but your newfound pudge immediately hinders your escape. You fall after only a few metres, and the creatures are upon you. As you call out for help, the first of the slimes leaps at your face. Tears form in your eyes as it pushes between your lips, intent on reaching your stomach. One by one, the slimes wriggle and squeeze their way down your throat, bloating your stomach by a few extra inches each time. Before long, the entire group of slimes reside in your distended gut. You can feel them wriggling around in your stomach, bulging it to extremes you thought utterly impossible. Much to your embarrassment, you derive immense satisfaction from feeling so full. As the slimes digest, you're left panting and gasping, padding at your almost painfully-warm stomach as it fattens and rounds. You metabolise thousands upon thousands of calories in mere moments, and you're left utterly breathless by the experience. Soon, your already soft body is visibly obese... and just as soft as the slimes that once occupied your stomach. You rise to your feet but immediately fall. You've gained hundreds of pounds from the slimes, and it takes you a while to re-learn how to walk now that you're several times heavier than a few minutes ago.]{ }(else-if: $Player_WeightTier is 2)[You stumble across town, drawing no shortage of stares. You've gotta get your weight under control, and a walk seems like just the thing. Pushing yourself, you're soon leaving the town's outskirts, albeit huffing and drenched in sweat. You hadn't expected an audience, but when you discover one, it's not the kind you were expecting. Realising far too late, you discover that you've been flanked on all sides by what appears to be an entire colony of sentient, slime-like creatures. Your body is so flabby and massive, constantly wobbling with each breath—could they have mistaken you for a fellow slime?! Whatever the reason for their interest in you and your ridiculously fatty body, they're soon enveloping you from every angle. Dozens of slimes soon engulf you, are you're left struggling pathetically as they begin to pour down your throat. You gag and struggle, succeeding only at making yourself jiggle and enticing more slimes from nearby. The volume of the meal isn't a problem for you, far from it, but you still feel abject horror at knowing you're consuming sentient creatures... even if they appear to be completely willing to sacrifice themselves just to fatten you up. As the last of the slimes squashes down your throat, you let out a rapturous burp. Much to your shame, it draws the attention of a few curious townsfolk, who watch you with knowing looks as the slimes visibly squirm inside your belly. For almost an hour, you're completely immobilised beneath the weight of your slime-filled stomach as it bulges and groans. When you digest the slimes, you immediately begin to put on an excessive, utterly ridiculous amount of weight. Tens of thousands of calories bubble beneath your skin, and soon your body is wobbling just as easily as the slimes that fed themselves to you.]{ }(else-if: $Player_WeightTier is 3)[(goto: "Slime bad ending")] --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Wobble back to town" , "La'ard")</td> </tr> </table>  (set: $Player_WeightTier to it + 1)}

Your horrendously obese body impeding every step, it takes you almost an hour to reach the edge of the town. Sweat drips down your excessively voluptuous folds. Even this short journey has rendered you a huffing, exhausted mess. When you reach the town outskirts, you realise, much to your shock, that you've drawn a considerable crowd. Unfortunately for you, this crowd doesn't consist of townsfolk. Instead, it's an entire colony of sentient slime-like creatures. They seem to have been attracted by the vibrations of each barely-managed step you took to reach the outskirts. They watch you with immense interest, unable to resist the allure of your constantly wobbling and, by this point, undeniably jelly-like body. So overweight that your most expedient form of escape is wobbling away, it's not long before the slimes envelop you. They engulf your gargantuan body, push into your clothes and between your endless folds, and, despite your best efforts to prevent it, they soon squirm down your throat as well. The colony of slimes fills you almost to bursting. With the sheer quantity of slime inside you, it's no surprise that they're able to override key components of your physiology. You wobble helplessly as your body becomes increasingly green and transparent, soon composed of the same slimy substance as the creatures who force-fed themselves to you. No later than your entire, mountainously obese body is converted to slime, you feel your mind beginning to dissolve. Goo drips from your body, each globule a new sentient slime that immediately hops off in search of other prey. In the following weeks, dozens of other visitors will suffer the same fate, many at the hands of your "offspring". The last slime is soon wriggling from your jumpsuit. Only your clothing and your black box are left behind, the sole pieces of evidence of your slimy fate. Reading no bio-signs, your black box broadcasts the last good backup of your mind back to the ship. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Seek out new prey" , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table>}

As you approach Hedon, you're suddenly confused when dozens of signatures appear on your proximity alert. They're too small to be ships, and they appear to be encircling your craft. In a few moments, they'll make contact with your hull. What do you do? --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Fire weapons ->Drone swarm bad end]]</td> <td>[[Flee ->Flee drone swarm]]</td> </tr> </table>}

Thinking quickly, you slam on the afterburners and careen towards an entry vector. Much to your surprise, however, none of the drones pursue you. Could that have been a new planetary defence measure? Nothing more? You shake your head. It's a good thing you didn't provoke them. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Land on Hedon->Hedon]]</td> </tr> </table>}

On a reflex, you begin charging your front-facing canons. In an instant, the swarm's attention seems to shift singularly to your vessel. They charge toward you, and you're able to blow apart a few of the drones before they reach your hull. Unfortunately, as you fire off additional shots, missing each time, you spot a couple of the drones you just destroyed effortlessly repairing themselves. There are clangs as several of the drones impact your hull. Your ship's AI warns of multiple breaches, both physical and cyber, and you have only a moment to react before the drones' counter-attack begins. You flinch as the panels of your Captain's chair suddenly begin to hum and fizzle and then go rigid as a sudden, painful jolt of electricity races up each arm. You black out. . . . An unknown period of time later, you awaken. Your ears are ringing, and your head hurts. When you try to move, you quickly find that your hands and feet are bound, and you appear to be lying on a surgical chair of some kind. An endless white void stretches in every direction. It's so bright that it quickly begins to hurt your eyes. "Fantastic." A voice calls out, seemingly from the very air itself. "We may begin the test." "W-what?" you blurt out, struggling against your restraints. "In exchange for the safe passage of your ship following your transgression, you have been left behind as a test subject." the voice tells you. "It would be wise to accept your fate." You cry out as the chair shifts, spreading your legs and exposing your crotch to the void. Thin tendrils slither up past your thighs, their tips lightly prodding dozens of points on both your manhood and balls. You're left gasping as dozens of tendrils push into your exposed rear, soon pushing firmly against your prostate. Finally, a few additional tendrils plant their tips on your nipples. "P-please", you beg. "Just let me go. I'll give you whatever you want..." "I desire nothing." the voice responds. "Beyond satisfying my curiosity. There is a device in your head, a backup, and I wish to see what volume of stimulus will activate it." The tendrils begin to spark, and your body goes rigid as electricity surges into it through some of your most sensitive areas. You spray cum across your stomach and lower chest, only beginning to get hard once the torture begins. As soon as you're fully erect, the shocks repeat. A second and third orgasm are shocked from you with the same ease as the first, and you're left whimpering and crying by the time the fourth explodes through you. By the fifth, you're not even leaking anymore. Your aching balls are empty, and you begin to feel the edges of your mind struggling under the immense overstimulation. You lose track of the shocks after that, perceiving only that they continue over and over again. . . . Hours later, you lie, twitching and insensate. Your cock is weakly throbbing, and your balls are almost as empty as your brain. The immense AI speaks to you, although you perceive none of their words. They admit to blocking your black box's transmission, having decided to teach you a lesson. They tell you they'll take "good care" of this version of you, which they have now rendered immortal. Having informed you of your fate, they allow the last remaining dregs of your personality to broadcast back to your ship. With a digital grin, they turn their attention back to your mind-broken body... --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Zap zap zap" , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table>}

As you enter orbit around Luna, you're suddenly hailed by a nearby ship. You sigh, accepting the communications request, expecting a merchant or unwelcome conversationalist. Instead, your heart races when a Lunisian appears on screen dressed in a Lunisian military uniform. They appear far taller and slender than most of their species, and you soon recognise them as a Spacer Lunisian. "Identify yourself, Vulpis," they command, signalling to somebody off-screen. You read on a nearby console that they're charging their weapons. You should choose your next words carefully. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Try to flee->Military bad end]]</td> <td>[[Identify yourself->Pass military]]</td> </tr> </table>}

You don't have time for this. Shaking your head, you drop comms with the Lunisian vessel and get ready to continue towards the planet's surface. Within approximately 10 seconds of cutting communications, you realise that you've made a horrible mistake. Your ship's velocity drops to zero as it's engulfed by a bright blue glow—a tractor beam. Despite your best efforts, your thrusters are insufficient for escape, and soon you are being boarded. You shield your eyes as several grenades thump into the far side of the room, detonating with a blinding flash and dispersal of smoke. You lurch over, covering your eyes, and are able to recover just quickly enough to see the barrel of a rifle as it hurtles towards your face. . . . You flutter in and out of consciousness as you are dragged into the Lunisian military vessel, easily held up by a duo of lanky soldiers. Soon, you're handcuffed to a chair in some kind of interrogation room, and the soldiers now sit opposite you. Much to your embarrassment, they seem to have stripped you naked. It was probably to check for concealed weaponry... although the way they're staring at you, you can't help but feel that their real reasons were perverse. The duo question you far more aggressively than when you were hailed before. Having burned all their goodwill, it's no surprise that they fail to believe a single word you say. Over an hour later, during which you desperately tried to explain yourself, even sobbing and begging at one point, they finally realise that you're just a useless brat. "Jesus Christ, quit your whining", one of the soldiers suddenly blurts out. "We get it. You're no threat to anybody but yourself. We'll process you, and you can piss off." "Hold on, Lieutenant." the second soldier suddenly chimes in, waving the first man's hand from a nearby console. "Don't you think this one could use a "Threat reduction"?" There's a pause in which both men stare at you. They lick your lips, and you immediately feel dirty. In an instant, they're on you. Your hands are still cuffed behind your back, preventing you from offering any kind of resistance. You're lain on your back across the interrogation room table. On one side of the table, the more senior officer spreads your legs, and on the other, the soldier pins down your muzzle. You can do nothing but whimper and whine as both men push into your respecting orifices, leaving you gagging, clenching and whining as you are abused. They build into an immediate, coordinated rhythm, well-disciplined even during sex, fucking you insensate within only a few minutes. Much to your shame, you're soon sputtering ropes of alabaster across your stomach long before the two men climax. When they do orgasm, they bury their knots in your bowels and behind your teeth, leaving you teary-eyed and squirming as they blow their hot loads down your throat and up your ass. You lie between them, twitching and moaning, having been perhaps more thoroughly dominated than ever before. The casual precision by which your body was claimed and used has your head spinning and your heart aflutter. Deep down, why did you enjoy this? "Y'know somethin', Lieutenant?" the more senior of the two soldiers asks, pulling from your well-used hole. "I think this one'd make a fine addition to the Orbital Defence Forces, don't you?" The second soldier, similarly satisfied with your performance, pulls from your throat. "I'd say they passed the entry interview, that's for damn sure." You whimper as the men switch places, and your fate is sealed. . . . You whimper as your platoon commander tugs his knot from behind your teeth, giving you a reassuring, satisfied pat on the head. "T-thank you, sir." you whimper out, cum dripping down your chin. Thanklessly, he stands aside, and another man takes his place. You open your mouth on a reflex, already drooling. In the months since your capture, you have become an unwilling pawn of the Lunisian military. What started as a "threat reduction" soon saw you becoming a kind of sexual "Mascot" for the Lunisian orbital defence, and soon thereafter, you were conscripted into the military itself. You spend every waking moment drooling over your new platoons' knots, huffing their balls, or being roughly ploughed from behind. Your body is adorned with countless half-healed teeth and claw marks, and you've long since begun to enjoy your new life. Here, at the very least, you're useful. Weeks ago, while they were distracted, your ship's AI was able to make a blind jump, ensuring that a new version of you will persist, even if this one will never adventure again. A short time afterwards, your black box transmitted your personality for reconstitution. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Serve your time" , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table>}

You panic for a few seconds, and the wolf just rolls his eyes. When you send over your credentials, he seems equally unimpressed. As he reads through your documents, you do your best to explain yourself. After a few tense moments, the Lunisian tells you to be on your best behaviour... or else. Communications end before you can respond. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Continue to Luna->Luna]]</td> </tr> </table>}

(if: $Player_WeightTier is 0)[Arriving at the visitor suites, you receive a warm welcome. The receptionist, a portly bear, greets you and passes you a room key. Soon, you're walking into your new room. You're immediately aware that it's designed for someone larger than yourself. In particular, the bed and doorways seem custom-made for someone of far wider stature.]{ }(else-if: $Player_WeightTier is 1)[You receive a warm welcome as you arrive at the visitor suites, the Ursine receptionist sinking in your chubby physique with a smile on their face. You're quickly ushered to one of the rooms, finding that it's pleasantly large and with all the amenities you need. You find yourself falling onto the bed within only a few minutes of arriving. For reasons you can't quite explain, you feel unusually tired. Hands drifting to your middle, however, which is now plush and soft to the touch, you soon realise you've been carrying some extra weight.]{ }(else-if: $Player_WeightTier is 2)[You receive a warm welcome as you arrive at the visitor suites, considerably out of breath. The receptionist approaches you immediately, sinking both hands into your fatty stomach. You're too out of breath to protest, and the receptionist soon leads you to your room. You experience considerable embarrassment when you find yourself unable to enter your room, your excessive adipose squashing around both sides of the doorway. It's only when a passerby takes a moment to squash and shove at you⁠—and grope you as well⁠—that you finally fall into your room. Reduced to a red-faced, huffing mess, it takes you a while to regain your composure. When you do, you find that the room is comfortably big. It has all the amenities you need and seems custom-built to help you cope with your unwieldy new physique.]{ }(else-if: $Player_WeightTier is 3)[You arrive at the visitor suites, huffing and sweating. Your fatty body jiggles with each heaving breath. How could such a short journey leave you so exhausted? The Ursine receptionist noticed your arrival, of course. Whether by your sheer size or the fact that each step you take now shakes the ground. They smile at you, pushing against your flabby body in a semi-successful effort to keep you from toppling over as they walk you to your room. When you reach the door to your room, you're left red-faced when you realise the doorway is spherical. It's custom-designed for someone of your... considerable dimensions. Still, you need help squeezing inside. It seems the designer of this particular fatty-friendly doorway didn't anticipate someone as big as you. Eventually, however, and with considerable help from the receptionist in the form of shoves, pushes, and the occasional kick, you successfully complete the basic task of traversing a doorway. Now inside your room, you're surprised to find you're standing in a VIP suite. You wonder for a few moments what you could've done to warrant such incredible treatment. The answer soon hits you when you realise that, to put it simply, none of the other rooms could accommodate you. The difference is not any respect that you've earned or friendships that you've made during your time on the planet; you're simply so large that there's nowhere else you could possibly fit.] (display:"La'ard Visitor room"){ }

(if: $Coyote_DateCounter is 1)[Although you try not to, you can't help but stare at the cyborg Lunisian. Everything about her radiates a domineering ferocity, and for some reason, that interests you much more than you care to admit. "H-hey, uh, Coyote?" you ask, your voice shaky. "Would y-" "The fuck you want? Looking to sell yourself again, slut?" she retorts, cutting you off, almost growling. "W-well, I was wondering-" you continue, although you stumble over your words. The cybernetic wolf rolls her eyes. "Spit it out, dumbass", she blurts out, baring her fangs at you. Your composure is in tatters, and you scramble to respond before she gets genuinely angry with you. Heart racing, you blurt out the first words you can manage. "Wanna go on a date!?" you practically yell before a wave of dread washes over you. "You're kidding, right?" she asks. You watch as your question sinks in, and she grows progressively more insulted by the suggestion that you are anything, even remotely approaching equals. After a few moments, wherein it feels like she's about to draw her pistol on you, she finally responds. "I don't "date", and if I did, it wouldn't be with a glorified cum-rag like you", she begins. "Hell, I might break you just for suggesting that, you fucking faggot." --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Apologise and back out" , "Metris-2 - Brothel")</td> <td>[[Y-yes please....->Coyote dates]]</td> </tr> </table>}]{ }(else:)[You open your mouth to ask Coyote for another "date", but you're suddenly consumed by anxiety. On the one hand, she did almost fuck you into a puddle last time... but on the other... isn't that exactly why you're asking? "Hey, uh, Coyote?" you gingerly ask, feeling the redness building in your cheeks. "What? Spit it out, fag." she responds. She's tapping away at a data tablet, not even acknowledging you. "Well... uh... how about another "date"?" you ask if only barely managing to get the words out. For the first time since you began to speak, she acknowledges you. She looks up from her tablet with a hungry, lustful grin. "Oh, you're dead meat..." she growls out, and you are consumed by equal parts lust and fear. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Apologise and back out" , "Metris-2 - Brothel")</td> <td>[[God, I hope so...->Coyote dates]]</td> </tr> </table>}]

(if: $Coyote_DateCounter % 2 is 1)["Holy fuck, you're desperate," she says with a laugh. "God, I'm amazed nobody's broken you already..." You want to respond, but a pathetic whimper is all you can manage. "I want your throat," she suddenly announces. "If you're such a pathetic slut that all you're gonna do is whine, I'll put it to good use." She motions for you to kneel, but you're too embarrassed to move. With a groan, she grabs your hair and pulls your muzzle between her legs. "W-wait!" you blurt out, your words muffled against the imposing Lunisian's crotch. "Aren't we gonna go somewhere... y'know? Private?" She grins down at you, taking a moment to grind against your face. "Nope," she responds. A part of you wants to back out–you retain your dignity and defy the imposing pirate–but as you catch her scent through the thin fabric dividing your muzzle from her cock, you feel increasingly unable to refuse. You soon find yourself pulling down her zipper and brushing aside fabric. Moments later, your muzzle is pressed firmly to her sheath and the slowly emerging cock therein. The towering cyborg lets out a satisfied moan as you kiss her hardening cock, shuddering and gripping your hair when your lips meet her knot. You trail kisses up her shaft, bringing your lips to her tip. You don't keep her waiting, taking the first few inches into your mouth. Her taste dances across your tongue, and she's leaking already. She seems satisfied with you as you bob your head, doing your best to relax your throat as her girth pushes down it. You even throw in some fancy tongue work, too, eager to please her. Despite your best efforts and genuine, whorish enthusiasm, however... you can't take her knot into your mouth. It's simply too big and thick. Even if you did, you can't help but predict you'd choke on it. Growing impatient with you, Coyote suddenly takes charge. You whine as she grips your hair and begins to grind roughly down your throat. Unfortunately, she does little but hurt your jaw. Enraged by this, she grips your ears and, with complete disregard for your health, begins to brutally facefuck you. Even as you try to tap out, she continues. Her desires are singular, and your pleasure and well-being are entirely irrelevant. Hell, you doubt she even sees you as a person right now. It's far more likely she considers you a sex toy and a particularly aggravating one at that. Finally, with pure animalistic lust, she snaps. She braces the back of your head against the side of her desk and forces your body to choose: Take her knot like a good little slut, or be crushed beneath the half-mechanical thrusts that smash past your lips. Tears stream down your cheeks, and you can feel her cock bruising the inside of your throat. It's only by some miracle that she finally, seconds from genuinely injuring you, manages to cram her knot past your teeth. You are filled with relief, yes, but also terror–terror that only grows when she pushes even harder, plugging your throat with her knot. A second later, she's dumping an unholy volume of cum down your throat. She admires her handiwork while you choke and cry, squeezing your knot-bulged throat, seemingly impressed with your durability. Your last moments before losing consciousness are dominated by the sensation of the powerful gynomorph's crotch smashing against your nose and of the sounds of choking and wet slapping, almost so loud that they hurt your ears. . . . You regain consciousness an unknown number of hours later. Your upper body is hanging limply downwards from Coyote's desk. There's a sizable puddle of cum beneath you, and it seems she rolled you over so that you wouldn't drown in her cum. No sooner than you realise where you are, you fall from the table directly into the pool of cum. You land with a truly obscene splash, your body instantly covered in her seed. Much to your shame, you realise that even if you can hide the dampness in your fur, everyone will be able to smell what you've been up to. As you stagger to your feet, drenched in the Lunisian's cum, you spot her sitting some distance away from you. She's tapping away at her tablet, barely acknowledging you. "Clean yourself up, slut," she tells you, not even looking up at you from her work. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Clean yourself up" , "Metris-2 - Brothel")</td> </tr> </table> (set: $Coyote_DateCounter to it + 1)}]{ }(else:)["Alright, c'mere slut," she commands, undoing her belt and kicking aside her trousers. You feel yourself salivating as her fat sheath, and impressively large balls are revealed. When you make her wait for too long, she grabs you, roughly tears off your jumpsuit, and hoists you onto her lap. Her tip presses roughly to your ring, already stretching you wide. You grit your teeth, wincing, when she immediately grips your hips and begins to push you down. Inch by inch, her fat cock pushes inside you, and soon her massive knot is resting firmly against your cheeks. Your cock springs free of its sheath, growing to full mast almost immediately. Coyote looks down to find your rock-hard member drooling precum against her stomach, and makes a noise of utter disgust. You try to control your breathing–you're spasming involuntarily around her length. She has no interest in your "slow and steady" approach, however. Her hands move from your hips to beneath your thighs, and she's soon lifting and dropping you on her cock in an increasingly deliberate rhythm. With each drop, the entirety of her girth barrels inside you, aside from her knot. You can feel her leaking precum inside you and growing more lustful by the second. Now, when she drops you on her cock, she pushes you down too. You cry out, eyes watering, as she tries to cram her knot inside you... but you're much too tight. She's panting, growing increasingly frustrated with your inadequacy. Suddenly, she lifts you, leans you backwards over her desk, and begins fucking you in earnest. You cry out in confused, overwhelmed pleasure as the much larger woman finally manages to cram her gigantic, throbbing knot into your insides. "Th-that's it, fuckin' slut", she moans out, forcing her cock as deeply into your guts as she can. A moment later, you feel it throbbing and spurting, filling your insides almost painfully full. As you lie there, barely conscious, your legs still limply wrapped around her waist, you find yourself infatuated with the situation. You can feel her hot cum bloating your insides. You look up at her, completely in love with what she's done to you. She catches the look, her satisfied expression giving way to a much angrier one. "The fuck's the matter, faggot? I break your brain or something?" she pants down at you. Unthinkingly, you press your lips to hers. They're softer than you expected. Unfortunately, the kiss goes entirely unreciprocated, and by the time you pull away, she's actively growling down at you. "The fuck was that?" she asks, so angry that you can barely make out the words. "I-I just... I thought-" you shakily whimper out. She rears back her hips, roughly yanking her knot from your battered insides. A moment later, she smashes back into you with almost pelvis-shattering force. You let out a genuine cry of pain and are immediately reduced to a begging, pleading mess. She rears back again, her knot tugging from your insides once more. Again, she smashes back into you. "You're fuckmeat, faggot! Don't you //dare// forget that!" she growls down at you, completely furious. You can do nothing as the enraged Lunisian proceeds to remind you of your place for well over an hour, beating into your ass with such horrific force that you can barely feel your lower body by the time she's done. You don't climax a single time during her brutality, instead feeling like she's literally fucking you insensate. By the time she's done "disciplining" you, you can barely move. You're drooling, barely able to think, and only flashes of pain pierce the numbness you feel. She pulls from your ass just as unlovingly as you've come to expect. "Fucking slut," she blurts out, pulling open your muzzle and spitting into the back of your throat. "Try that shit again, and you're dead." You're left to whimper and cry, unable to move for almost an hour before you're finally able to climb to your feet. Your body is completely covered in bruises, making it painful to even breathe. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Recover... barely." , "Metris-2 - Brothel")</td> </tr> </table> (set: $Coyote_DateCounter to it + 1)}]

(if: $Luna_FooledAroundWithScientist is false)[Not quite content with the introduction you were given, you ask the scholarly Lunisian if he could show you a more... "intimate"... overview of his species' physiology. Within a few seconds of your request, the poor scientist's face is flushed an almost impossible shade of red. Surprisingly, he doesn't deny you. "I-I-" he stammers out. "T-there are a few unused labs we could use, I s-suppose!" You notice that he's adjusted his labcoat so that the fabric hides his crotch; no doubt to hide the erection he's gotten.]{ }(else:)[You ask the easily-embarrassed Lunisian if you can have another "intimate" look at him. His face flushes red, although he maintains his composure slightly better this time. "I-if you want to fool around-" he begins, suddenly checking that he's not being overheard by any of his colleagues. "W-we can head to one of the private labs."] Excitedly gripping your wrist, the unimposing scientist leads you to one of the laboratories. It's a windowless room, and there's no sign of anyone else. Hurriedly he locks the door–and even moves a chair in front of it for good measure. With a particularly needy look on his face, the wolf man disrobes. He neatly folds his discarded clothing and places them on a nearby table, and you can practically hear his heart pounding as he does. Now completely naked, he looks at you expectantly. You get the feeling this is going to be far more than a mere "inspection". It seems that which each passing moment, the anticipation leaves the poor scientist even more flustered. Without touching him at all, he's soon completely erect and dripping precum like a faucet. He's too overwhelmed to speak. It's up to you to make the first move. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Approach him->Get to know the scientist]]</td> </tr> </table>}

You take the initiative, approaching the unsure Lunisian and bringing your clothed body to his naked one. His breath is unsteady, and you can hear his heart racing. You let your hands fall across his shoulders and rub at him until they reach the small of his back. With the newfound leverage, you pull him close. His lips hover only inches from yours, and you're honestly not sure who makes the first move. What you do know is that a moment later, you're locked in a passionate, if clumsy, kiss. Consumed by lust, the once cowardly Lunisian is soon grinding against you. You respond by reaching down and squeezing at his ample rear, eliciting soft gaps that are immediately muffled by your lips and tongue. He's visibly heartbroken when you suddenly break the kiss, but his sorrow turns to excitement when you plant dozens more down his front, each falling a little lower than the last. Soon, you're pressing your lips to the wolf man's throbbing cock, squeezing at his heavy-feeling balls with both hands, and lapping at the constant stream of pre. He gasps as you take him into your mouth, weakly thrusting despite his best efforts to control himself. He's whispering out huffed half-words, barely able to handle the pleasure that your wet, soft mouth provides. "I-I-" he begins but never manages to finish his sentence. Instead, he grips your hair and roughly pushes his knot behind your teeth. You know immediately he's cumming, just from how desperate his demeanour has become. Whatever reservations he had about fucking an offworlder he may have once had are now utterly dwarfed by his need to fill you. You cough and splutter around his cock as what feels like gallons of cum sprays down your throat without any warning. When you pull away, coughing, he immediately drenches your front with half a dozen alabaster ropes across your face and upper body. The pressure is almost high enough that it knocks you over, and you're left utterly confused by how such a meek little guy could've produced such an impressive load. It must be twenty seconds before he acknowledges you again. He's staring at the ceiling for a while, huffing and coughing, blurting out the names of his people's Gods in utter disbelief at how much pleasure he's just experienced. It's only when his gaze drifts downwards, and he sees what a mess he's made of you that he snaps out of it. "O-oh gosh! I'm so sorry!" he blurts out, worriedly clutching his hands to his heaving chest. "I-It's been a while, and it's really close to mating season, and-" You rise to your feet, silencing him with a sudden, wholly passionate kiss. You feel him hesitating for a moment, no doubt because he can taste his own cum, but he soon relents. When you pull away, strands of your lover's sticky seed connect your lips. "T-thank you..." he manages to whisper out. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Keep going->Scientist sex]]</td> <td>(link-goto: "Leave" , "Luna") </tr> </table> (set: $Luna_FooledAroundWithScientist to true)}

"We're not done yet," you tell him, much to his excitement. You weren't really going to walk away without making sure both of you were completely satisfied, were you? He immediately turns and leans over a nearby table. With as much finesse as he can manage, he lifts his tail and wiggles his behind at you. As he does, he's too embarrassed to look you in the eye. You decide, almost immediately, to surprise him. He's expecting you to move in immediately–to indulge yourself–but you want to show him a good time. You crouch behind him, pressing your muzzle to his behind before he has a chance to realise what you're doing. You spread his cheeks and press your lips to his hole. He lets out a gasp, and then begins moaning as you slurp, tongue and kiss between his cheeks. "I-I'm so close-" he soon whimpers out, and you immediately stop. He lets out a prolonged whine, even trying to push back against your muzzle, but you deny him climax. His hole is slick with your saliva, well-lubricated and ready for what you have planned next. You strip off your jumpsuit and throw it aside, stepping forward to grind your cock against his ass. He's making so many cute noises, and you're not even inside him yet... You pull back, adjusting your cock so that its tip presses against his tail hole. Slowly but firmly, you push inside the cute wolf man. He's tight–far tighter than you expected. Could this be his first time? You're about to ask when you suddenly realise how slutty the moans he's making are. You can tell from the sounds alone and how he's desperately grinding back against you that this is definitely //not// his first time. With slow, deliberate thrusts, you push inch after inch inside him. The way he's squirming around you, pushing back at the apex of each thrust, he's practically milking you. You try to hold out as long as you can, although you're soon holding his hips and building up an unsteady rhythm. Before long, your knot is inflated and slapping wetly against his hole with each thrust. You want nothing more than to bury it deep, deep inside your new lover. He lets out a deep sigh, and you can feel him trying to relax. "P-please... just force it in... I need it," he whimpers out, between some of the most pathetic, needy little moans you've ever heard. That does it. You wrap your hands around his middle and begin slam-fucking into him. He can take it–He'll have to. With a sudden "Pop!" your lover takes the last few inches, letting out a whorish moan as your knot finally manages to squeeze inside him. That takes you over the edge, and a moment later, you're emptying your balls into the slutty scientist. He's similarly brought to climax, crying out in pleasure, clenching hard around your manhood and shooting an arc of cum that drenches the table and wall ahead of you. The volume of seed he produces almost seems comical, given his size. You had no idea he was so pent up! You rest your head on his shoulder as your orgasm fades, gasping softly. He reaches back and cups your cheek, babbling out incoherent declarations of love–too consumed by pleasure and relief to realise what he's saying. It's beyond endearing, so you just let him babble and moan until your knot deflates enough to pull from him without pain. You help him clean up and redress, using your tongue a few times during the cleanup process just to embarrass him. You only stop when he begins getting pent up again, and he begs you not to tire him out too much to work. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Tidy up" , "Luna") </tr> </table>}

Your eyes are suddenly drawn to the summit of the nearby mountain. Atop it, you can see that there are dozens of people gathered, as well as countless flags and banners bearing various patterns you don't recognise. Everything about it seems designed to entice your curiosity–and it's successful. Soon, you're scrabbling your way up the mountain, intent on reaching the top and discovering what mysteries lie there. You crest the mountaintop almost half an hour later, drenched in sweat and utterly exhausted. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Look around->La'ard - Mountain]]</td> </tr> </table>}

Hoping for a general overview of their history, you ask the Deity an open question. "So... what's your story?" you ask, feeling a little silly as you ask. The jackal-like entity smiles, scritches their chin and looks off towards nothing in particular. "It all started in a small town..." they begin. "The name isn't important. You mention "The town" to any of my followers, and they'll know exactly what you mean." Their expression softens all of a sudden, presumably as they recall events from the distant past. "I was born in that little town, or maybe "created" is a more appropriate term. Either way, I helped the townsfolk in my own way, grew, and was eventually sealed away..." The hurt in their voice is palpable but suddenly falls away. "-Until a strange visitor liberated me. They saw the value in my purpose, and the love in my deeds, and they set me free. Free to share my gifts with the rest of the world, and then... the rest of the universe." "Wait-" you interject. "- you can't mean the /entire/ universe, do you?" There's that toothy grin again, although this time a look of visible, immense pride. "Every single suitable, willing planet now receives my blessings." Their expression becomes serious, almost concerned for a few moments. "- although, there were far fewer willing worlds than I expected. Ultimately, I created utopian worlds like La'ard to indulge as many individuals as possible without incurring the wrath of unwilling worlds." You're not sure what else to contribute. Ahead of you stands what is, apparently, a universal entity. No doubt this is only one of their bodies, and their true form lies somewhere else... or everywhere else all at once. "You must have such knowledge... have seen such incredible things..." you say, struggling to hide the excitement in your voice. "I-if I could ask, get a report, some information for my superiors-" "No." they snap at you. "I am concerned only with indulgence, not politics, nor am I interested in giving any planets a strategic advantage. As far as I'm concerned, your little squabbles and wars are... primitive... disgusting, really. You could have a post-scarcity utopia, all of you, if you weren't so... fucking rude." Those last words are accompanied by a growl that shakes the entire mountain. It's only when they see the worry on your face that they calm themselves. "My heartfelt apologies," they tell you with true sincerity. "-and apologies for the language also." --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Ask about something else->La'ard - Secret room]]</td> </tr> </table> (set: $Laard_CanSayPhrase to true)}

"W-who—what are you?" you ask, sinking in the jackal's features, only seeming to grow more curious by the second. It feels as if you're seeing something you shouldn't. It's as if you're being rewarded with each second you are allowed to gaze upon their visage. You feel... undeserving... but you can't look away. The Deity smiles at you, apparently happy to recall their story. "I have many names: "Famine ender", "The indulgent one", "The spirit of plenty"... "The Deity of Gluttony"...". They say that last name with a visible smile on their face. It's obviously their favourite. "I am all these things." "But... what are you?" you ask, no closer to the truth. The Deity appears to genuinely mull over your question before answering. When they do, their answer is accompanied by a flourish that sends small, flittering sparks through the air. A shiver runs up your spine. Whatever that was, it excited you. "I am..." they begin, but quickly becoming lost in thought. When they continue, their answer is baffling, to say the least. "... a wish". "A wish?" you ask. "Simply put, I exist because, from the moment I was born long, long ago, people have desired that I do," he explains. "First, it was a famine. A town destined to starve. Their hollow prayers went unanswered, and so, they prayed to something that did yet exist... to me... and soon, I did. Now I am free to carry out my purpose." You'd be inclined to reject their supernatural explanation were they not standing right in front of you. "Your purpose?" you question. "And what might that be?" The Deity gives you a quizzical look. They even tilt their head a little. "Isn't that obvious?" they ask. "To enable you all, of course. To allow you to rest, to indulge, to live rather than survive, to disconnect your happiness from the arduous sin of labour and to bless you with glorious, glorious excess. I deny the cold, the pain, the hunger to touch any who accept my blessing." You must admit, that offer doesn't sound half bad... --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Ask about something else->La'ard - Secret room]]</td> </tr> </table>}

"I keep hearing the word "Indulgence"," you tell them. "Can you explain what it means to you?" "To indulge..." they start, hands squeezing at themselves in a way that leaves you red-faced. "... is to satisfy oneself without guilt. To enjoy without fear of the consequences that follow. True freedom." They speak with genuine passion. In a short sentence, they have all but convinced you of the nobility of their goals. "If you will it," they tell you. "I will show you the epitome of indulgence. Be warned, however, that your mortal body will not suffice. It is a one-way journey, one that ends with your complete freedom... albeit in my realm." "Your realm? Isn't /this/ your realm?" you say, gesturing around to the lavish interior of the cavern. "Oh, mortal..." they coo out as if talking to a particularly stupid child. "This is a cave on one of the thousands of worlds I serve. My realm exists outside of all this, beyond what you would call "reality",". Their offer is tempting, although the knowledge you'll never return does fill you with considerable unease. The Deity doesn't force you to make a decision, however, simply offering you the key to a door that leads to oblivion... or freedom. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Ask about something else->La'ard - Secret room]]</td> </tr> </table> (set: $Laard_AbleToIndulge to true)}

Suddenly, you feel compelled to say something to The Deity. For some reason, they feel familiar. You want to say something they'll recognise, something that'll remind them of the distant past. It should be something short and snappy. A word or a name that'll remind them of the past. What do you say? (input: bind $DeityPhrase) --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Speak->Check Deity Phrase]]</td> <td>(link-goto: "Remain silent" , "La'ard - Secret room")</td> </tr> </table>}

You step towards The Deity, anxiously clasping your hands together. "I... um... I want to indulge," you tell them, your voice almost a whisper. They flash you an excited, toothy smile. "Endlessly...?" they ask. Your heart is racing. You can't believe what you're about to agree to. Despite your apprehension, you do really want this. "Endlessly." you shakily reply, worriedly fidgeting as The Deity's smile spreads into a sharp grin. "Welcome, my child," they say after a few moments. They step forward, arms wide, and embrace you into what may be the softest, warmest, most fantastic hug you've ever experienced. In an instant, every worry you've ever had melts away. You shut your eyes, just for a moment. When you open them again, you are no longer in The Deity's cavern, nor are you in the infinite dark. Instead, you now gaze upon their true realm. The sky is clear, with a few fluffy clouds. Reaching up to them, there are countless mountains of food, and just as many equally mountainous people. You can't make out their faces; they're far too large and far away... but for some reason, you know that they're completely, totally satisfied. You turn back to The Deity in utter amazement and find them looking you up and down. "Are you ready to begin?" they ask. You nod, almost unthinkingly. With that final confirmation, The Deity begins his process of sculpting you into his ideal glutton. First, they cup your cheeks in both hands, smiling as they plumpen and round, soon looking as if they're constantly full of food. Then they rub at your chest, only stopping once you have a pair of gargantuan, fatty faux breasts. The size of your new "tits" would make any woman in the galaxy jealous. Your stomach then follows, growing beneath his palms to a truly megalithic size, larger than any stomach in recorded history. He paces behind you, coaxing sharp gasps from you as they squeeze your plush rear, instantly rendering it far, far too massive for any chair. Your legs are wobbling. You have no idea how they're still holding you up, nor how your balance hasn't utterly failed you. Against all odds, you manage to remain standing just long enough for the jackal to touch them too. Your thighs are soon as thick as tree trunks and as wobbly as jelly. Finally, The Deity steps back. They have a look that lies somewhere between adoration and true, primal hunger. They lick their lips as they sink in your new, fatty physique before raising their hand and snapping their fingers. In an instant, you are utterly mountainous in size. The ocean of lard that is your new body sweeps across utterly unfathomable distances in the blink of an eye. You are rendered completely immobile, beyond useless, and are completely, utterly in love with it. The Deity sinks up to his waist as they stand on the continental shelf of pudge that was once your chin, lovingly cooing down at you. They tell you, much to your excitement, that this is only day one. . . . Over the following weeks, you are treated to pure, unadulterated indulgence. Every pleasure you can imagine is given to you freely and in tremendous, mind-shattering excess. Your immense, planet-sized body is constantly maintained by a combination of the Deity's power and immense, constant feasts delivered straight to your waiting, greedy gullet. This realm knows all of your favourite meals, and even introduces you to hundreds of new favourites as well. As far as you're concerned, you're in heaven. Eventually, The Deity allows your black box to transmit. Perhaps they hope that your clone will be just as gluttonous as this version of you. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Embrace true gluttony" , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table>}

The Deity raises an eyebrow, and then yawns. "Is that supposed to mean something to me?" they ask. "Should it?" //You need to say a word or name with a special meaning to them, or else it'll fall on deaf ears. Perhaps something or someone in the Deity's past could be the answer?// --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Nevermind" , "La'ard - Secret room")</td> </tr> </table>}

The Deity cocks an eyebrow at you, looking something between unimpressed and unsurprised. "Please," they begin, licking their lips. "I have far more to offer you than carnal desires..." They bring a hand to their stomach, giving it a squeeze. "... So much more." --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Nevermind" , "La'ard - Secret room")</td> </tr> </table>}

The Deity looks utterly unimpressed with you, rolling their eyes. "Yes, yes. You're such a big boy, aren't you?" they ask. "While I can respect the balls it takes to insult a literal God, I'm afraid I would rather be in the company of more... refined individuals. Goodbye." With a wave of their hand, your surroundings blur and contort. You find yourself standing back on the mountaintop outside the door to The Deity's domain. Nearby, Idella shakes her head. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Nevermind" , "La'ard - Mountain")</td> </tr> </table>}

The Deity freezes for a moment, their eyes going wide. "W-what did you just...?" they trail off for a moment before gripping your shoulders. You repeat what you said, although you're unsure why you said it to begin with. "Y-you're... how are you...?" they confusedly question. After a few moments, their face fills with worry. "I did go back," they tell you as if trying to resolve themselves from immense guilt. "Back to the town, I mean. I found you again; you were having fun with all the gifts I gave you before I left, but... you weren't you, not really. Your vessel was still following those last lingering commands you gave them, but it was empty." "W-what are you talking about?" you ask. The Deity seems unfazed by this. "I know you can't answer, not really, that your vessel is rigid, that your options are... limited. I see you out there. I do." their sincerity is almost overwhelming, looking at you with a unique kind of happiness, mixed in with the sadness and the knowledge that you will always be worlds apart. "Regardless, it's wonderful to see you again, traveller, whoever you really are. I have /so/ many stories to share," they tell you with a soft smile. "But first, I want to ask you something, a question I've held for a very, very long time..." They take a deep breath, the universal entity reduced to a nervous wreck over the course of a few minutes. "Please, stay here with me. Become my... bride. We can indulge to our heart's content in my domain, share my power, and work together to bring beautiful indulgence to the universe." They stand patiently, utterly failing to maintain their composure, awaiting your response. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Become their bride->Deity's bride bad ending]]</td> <td>(link-goto: "Decline" , "La'ard - Secret room")</td> </tr> </table>}

For reasons beyond your understanding, you are compelled to accept The Deity's offer. You agree to be their bride, and they are immediately overcome with joy. They pull you against their pillowy, soft body and press their lips to yours, and you reciprocate the passionate kiss that follows. As they embrace you, you feel warmth coursing throughout your body. Your worries begin to feel... distant. The world begins to feel small. You close your eyes if only for a few moments, enjoying the jackal's embrace. When you open them again, you are no longer in their cavernous abode. Instead, you are standing outdoors. The air is pure, and the sky is blue and inhabited by fluffy little clouds. In the distance, mountains reach to meet them. It takes you a few moments to realise that those "Mountains" are not mountains at all. They are a combination of seemingly endless stacks of food, meals and feasts, and the bloated, fatty bodies of those who now enjoy them. You turn to your new husband, gripped with wonder, and they simply welcome you home. "A mortal body won't serve you well here," they tell you, arms around your waist. "Let's sculpt you a new one... together." They trace their hands across your body, making suggestions that you are free to accept or deny as your heart desires. You accept the vast majority of your new husband's ideas, many of which see your body becoming more jackal-like and similar to their own. With each change, the power used to make it is equal parts The Deity's and your own. They show you how to use your new abilities, watching you intently as you modify and eventually accept your new body. Eventually, you look almost identical to your husband... albeit considerably chubbier and with a pair of pillowy breasts to match—something they insisted upon, and that you were too excited by to refuse. The Deity explores you now; with their hands, their lips, and even their tongue. They wholly drink in your new appearance, completely enamoured with you. Is it egotism for them to adore an appearance so similar to their own? "Perhaps," you think to yourself. "-but who can resist perfection?". "There are no limits," your beloved tells you, and you wholeheartedly believe them. "Now... let us indulge one of our followers." They pull away from you, revealing a bewildered, albeit excited-looking Ursine. They stand a few paces away, overwhelmed. They have no words, only barely-concerned amazement. When they fail to speak, your husband takes the initiative. "Welcome, faithful one." they begin, voice booming. "-and congratulations on being the first of my faithful to experience the true love, indulgence and experience of The Two Deities Of Gluttony". The bear stands red-faced for a few moments before throwing their arms open, welcoming everything that you and your new lover can offer them... and you're both all too happy to oblige. You both approach them, rub your hands across their physique, press your almost painfully soft bodies against theirs... and find their current body lacking. "No", you both announce in unison. "This won't do at all." Both pairs of your roaming hands squeeze and grope at your loyal follower, pumping your power directly beneath their skin where it takes new form as thick, plump, unbelievably soft pudge. From their once flat chest to their already impressive buttocks, you leave nothing untouched, unmodified, not stopping even as their individual features begin to coalesce into one immense, utterly immobile blob. You have so, so much more to give... and in this realm of plenty, of infinite, excessive indulgence, there are no limits to how much the willing can receive. Soon, the Ursine's body is utterly, permanently ruined... and they thank you for it. With a tremendous smile on their face, they blurt out overwhelmed proclamations of gratitude and love, only stopping when their words are muffled by an influx of food. You and your husband, satisfied, fall atop the ocean of pudge that was once a mobile individual and begin to make passionate love on the warm fat bed that you've just created. . . . You spend the next few weeks helping your husband indulge their followers, setting embarrassing, fatty events in motion, and seeing to the complete physical liberation of anyone who finds their way into your shared domain. In between your tireless work, you enjoy each other almost constantly. You frequently make love, indulge in the expansive softness of each other's bodies in every way imaginable, and use your new, immortal body as a sensual, intimate playground. Eventually, your husband expresses the understanding that you must continue on your quest. You're confused—you'll be right here, won't you? Their words were not meant for your vessel but for //you//. They tell you that they will worship this version of you beyond anything that anyone, God or otherwise, has ever experienced and tell you to come find them again once your grand adventure draws to a close. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Bid your husband farewell... for now." , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table>}

Suddenly, the ocean of darkness is burned away as dozens of candles light one after another. They illuminate your surroundings, revealing them to be the inside of a gigantic cavern. It's a cosy space, filled with countless pillows, snacks, and expensive-looking fabrics. It looks like the perfect retreat for a particularly over-indulgent king. At the centre of all the pillows, blankets, and food sits a huge, plush-looking throne, and reclining lazily upon it is the fabled Deity Of Gluttony. They rise to their feet and approach you, the many curves of their body lit by the flickering candlelight. As they draw closer, you are able to make out their features more than during the ritual. The Deity of gluttony is a black-furred, jackal-like humanoid. They are extremely chubby and comfy-looking, in no fear of winter's chill, and adorned in an excessive amount of gold jewellery and flowing, transparent fabrics. "A pleasure to meet you", they say, welcoming you to their abode with a sharp-toothed smile. "What can I do for you, devoted one?" --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Proceed->La'ard - Secret room]]</td> </tr> </table>}

{ (set: _PhraseList to (a:"simon","ripley","sofi","terry","matt","bertha","nettie","hunk","ben")) (for: each _ListItem, ..._PhraseList)[(if: $DeityPhrase contains _ListItem and $DeityPhrase is not "")[(goto:"Phrase - Success!")]] (set: _PhraseList to (a:"food","sex","feast","gluttony","bigger","give me food","have sex with me","make me bigger","make me fat")) (for: each _ListItem, ..._PhraseList)[(if: $DeityPhrase contains _ListItem and $DeityPhrase is not "")[(goto:"Phrase - Generic")]] (set: _PhraseList to (a:"fuck","shit","cunt","bastard","bitch")) (for: each _ListItem, ..._PhraseList)[(if: $DeityPhrase contains _ListItem and $DeityPhrase is not "")[(goto:"Phrase - Insult")]] (goto: "Phrase - Nothing")  }

{(set: $Procya_LostWillPower to $Procya_Morning_LostWillPower) (set: $Procya_SettledDebt to $Procya_Morning_SettledDebt) }You suddenly awaken to an overpowering masculine aroma flooding your nostrils. You're surrounded by darkness, yet almost immediately figure out where you are. Covers are draped over you, and your muzzle is buried in your master's crotch. Reflexively, you try to adjust your position, but his hand grips your head with impressive firmness. Now aware that you're awake, he's quick to push his tip past your lips before grinding haphazardly down your throat. Overpowered by your larger and stronger master, you can do nothing but gag and whine beneath the sheets. (if: $Procya_CalculatedWillPower - $Procya_LostWillPower <= 0)[(set: $Procya_CalculatedWillPower to 0)(display: "Morning - Oral bad end")]{ }(else:)[The only consolation is that his orgasm arrives quickly, and he's soon blasting a huge load into your stomach. He leaves you there while his orgasm fades, worrying little about your well-being. When you're finally allowed to pull away, coughing and spluttering, you find Andelaar has lifted the covers and is grinning down at your cum-splattered face. "Guess you won't be needing breakfast, eh slut?" he teasingly asks. {(display: "Procya - Scene result")}]

{(set: $Procya_LostWillPower to $Procya_Morning_LostWillPower) (set: $Procya_SettledDebt to $Procya_Morning_SettledDebt) }You suddenly jolt awake to the familiar sensation of something pushing deep into your rear. You struggle and squirm, but the body of your much, much stronger lover is wrapped around your own. "About time you woke up..." a familiar voice whispers into your ear between ragged, uneven breaths. "... You slept right through the alarm, so I thought I'd give you a more fitting one." You tense up, cursing him under your breath. Was he trying to catch you off guard and make you cum? You grit your teeth, trying to ignore his thrusts, even as they begin to bulge your lower stomach. Each movement seems to grind against your prostate more firmly than the last, and soon a small waterfall of pre is gushing from your chastity cage. Refusing to be beaten so easily, you endeavour to resist. You control your breathing, tense up, and try to outlast him. (if: $Procya_CalculatedWillPower - $Procya_LostWillPower <= 0)[(set: $Procya_CalculatedWillPower to 0)(display: "Morning - Anal bad end")]{ }(else:)[Ultimately, you manage it–albeit barely. After what feels like hours of barely holding it together, he finally slams to the hilt and empties his balls into you. You're left breathless as his warm, sticky seed floods your guts. He holds you close, indulging in your slender frame as his orgasm fades. "Oh?" he asks with a smirk. "You didn't cum? What a little shame~." {(display: "Procya - Scene result")}]

{(set: $Procya_LostWillPower to $Procya_Morning_LostWillPower) (set: $Procya_SettledDebt to $Procya_Morning_SettledDebt) }As your eyes flutter open, the first thing you perceive is a metallic "Click!" and the feeling of leather as it claps around your neck. You bolt upright and find a slender but sturdy leash connecting your brand-new collar to your waiting master's hand. "Walkies, slut", he tells you with a cruel smile. You groggily climb from the bed and follow him, assuming that this humiliation will remain inside the walls of his home. He soon proves you wrong, and you are overcome with utter horror as he leads you outside. Although you hesitate and protest, it takes only a single, firm, painful tug on your leash to send you stumbling out through the threshold of his home. The cold morning air flits across every inch of your exposed body, and you can do nothing but quietly whine. As he tugs you along the pavement, he forbids you from covering yourself. Complete strangers see you, you watch as their eyes trail down your naked body and discover your cage, and then they laugh. Within just a few seconds, they are aware of your shameful predicament and, much to your horror, have a good idea of just what kind of person you are. Whenever you try to hurry along the humiliating walk, your master feigns interest in a random place or object, forcing you to stand alongside him and endure the stares of passing strangers. It's only after you do a full, thorough lap around a nearby park that Andelaar finally decides to conclude the walk. Although you're relieved at first, you quickly realise that you'll have to walk the entire distance back to his home, no doubt encountering more "fun" distractions along the way. Now in the latter half of "walkies", you try to focus on your upcoming arrival home. This is shameful, yes, but as long as nothing happens, you'll be fine. Unfortunately, as your master slowly meanders home with a tight grip on your leash, you are both stopped by a passerby. They greet Andelaar with a friendly wave, and much to your horror, your master stops for a prolonged conversation. They both seem to go on for ages and ages, allowing dozens of other strangers to pass–and by extension, stare at your naked body. You whimper and tug on your leash, hoping that your master will grant you some kind of mercy. Instead, they immediately direct the conversation towards you and your predicament. The other man chuckles as Andelaar explains the circumstances of your debt and all the obscene plans they have for you. Finally, to your immense embarrassment, they direct the stranger to examine you if they are so inclined. Wasting no time, they're squeezing and rubbing at you. As their hands explore your curves and most intimate areas, you can feel your heart racing. (if: $Procya_CalculatedWillPower - $Procya_LostWillPower <= 0)[(set: $Procya_CalculatedWillPower to 0)(display: "Morning - Walkies bad end")]{ }(else:)[By the time they finally get bored of you, you're close to orgasm from their prolonged, debauched exploration of your body. You stumble the rest of the way home, your chastity cage unusually tight. The final stretch of your journey is marked by an excessive trail of precum. {(display: "Procya - Scene result")}]

You wake up alone. Something feels different, and you hurriedly make your way through to the neighbouring kitchen. Andelaar is sitting at the kitchen table, sipping a coffee and tapping away at his tablet. When he spots you, he taps the screen a few more times before turning it to face you. Much to your surprise, an on-screen counter lists your debt as fully paid. Your heart races–You're free?! "Congratulations," he says, having to stop himself from appending "pet" to it. "Looks like you held out after all. Our contract has now concluded." He motions to the window, and through it, you can see your ship waiting on the nearby landing pad. As soon as he passes you the key, you hurriedly undo the lock on your cage. After so long locked up, you feel horribly vulnerable. Part of you even wants to put it back on... You shake your head, passing Andelaar both the key and your cage. As soon as he takes them, you stroll up your ship's ramp, only turning back as the ramp begins to close. Andelaar looks unfazed, even taking this final moment to give you a teasing wink. Your heart races, perhaps as a side effect of all the perversion you've endured. "Hey, ship!" you yell, and your ship's AI responds. "Get us out of here..." Immediately, you hear the thrusts engage. As your ship breaches the atmosphere of Procya, you fall onto the closed egress ramp of your ship. You feverishly jerk your freed cock until you're drenching your naked upper body in cum. "Fuck..." you whimper out. You needed that. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto:"Stand up" , "Ship - Hub")</td> </tr> </table> (set: $Procya_DayCounter to 1)}

{(set: $Procya_LostWillPower to $Procya_Evening_LostWillPower) (set: $Procya_SettledDebt to $Procya_Evening_SettledDebt) }As the evening goes on, your master suddenly receives a phone call. He seems irate almost immediately, eventually yelling obscenities at the unknown caller and throwing his phone across the room. It strikes the opposite wall, shattering into countless pieces. Turning to you with rage burning in his eyes, he tells you that it's time to sleep. You follow him through to the bedroom, only for him to undress and sit on the edge of the bed, giving you one of the dirtiest looks you've ever received. With a lewd grin, he tells you that he'll allow you the privilege of sharing his bed... if you suck him off. You hesitate, red-faced, but your master simply indicates to a nearby climate control panel. "If you don't throat my cock like a good little bitch," he tells you. "I'll make you sleep on the floor and set the room to sub-zero temperatures." "B-but I'd-" you blurt out, only to be interrupted. "Freeze? Too bad." he cruelly replies. "I'm not toying with you, slut. My day's turned to shit. Shut up and throat my cock. Now." This is the most he's threatened you so far. You feel genuine fear as he glares at you. He's being serious, you can tell immediately, but it seems part of him //wants// you to try and defy him. With no other options, you drop to your knees and hurriedly bring your muzzle to his stiffening cock. Maybe if you do a good job, he'll be nicer to you? You kiss the length of his shaft and are just teasing the tip of his cock when he suddenly decides you're taking too long. He grips your ears and, with a thrust so brutal that it sends tears rolling down your cheeks, he buries his throbbing manhood down your throat. There's no care or rhythm behind his thrusts. He uses your face like a particularly hated fleshlight, smashing past your lips over and over again. As his cruelty grows, he's soon yelling insults down at you as he wrecks your poor throat. With a primal, undignified growl that you would never have expected from him, Andelaar suddenly holds your muzzle to his crotch with incredible firmness and reaches climax. You gag around his thick cock as he pumps load after load into your stomach. The volume of cum is so great that your stomach becomes visibly full. (if: $Procya_CalculatedWillPower - $Procya_LostWillPower <= 0)[(set: $Procya_CalculatedWillPower to 0)(display: "Evening - Oral bad end")]{ }(else:)[As his orgasm fades, he holds your face to his crotch. Even as you begin to choke on his manhood, he ignores you. You stare up at him, teary-eyed, watching as the rage on his face slowly dissipates. By the time he relents, gripping your hair and pulling from your bruised throat with an obscene squelch, you're so oxygen-starved that you can barely move. You slump forward, bracing against the bed, coughing and spluttering as air fills your lungs. Completely spent and seemingly indifferent to your suffering, Andelaar resets the climate control system and rolls into bed. By the time your body obeys you again, he's already asleep. Reluctantly, you climb into bed beside him and steel yourself for all the awful situations he'll get you into tomorrow. {(display: "Procya - Scene result")}]

{(set: $Procya_LostWillPower to $Procya_Evening_LostWillPower) (set: $Procya_SettledDebt to $Procya_Evening_SettledDebt) }As the evening drags on, Andelaar begins to get tired. He stretches, letting out a prolonged yawn, before commanding you to follow him to bed. You do so, hoping that he's so tired that nothing obscene will transpire. For a little while, it seems like tonight will end innocently. He wraps his arms around you as you fall into bed beside him, and you take on the role of the "little spoon". It feels... strangely comforting to have his muscular arms around you. He's warm, and you feel oddly safe nestled against him. Your eyelids feel heavy now, and you're just beginning to drift off when you feel something hardening against your waspish behind. You try to reposition yourself, half-heartedly trying to discourage him from going any further, but you know it's no use. With little fanfare, he's soon grinding between your cheeks, and after adjusting yourself, he lodges his fat cock deep into your ass. (if: $Procya_CalculatedWillPower - $Procya_LostWillPower <= 0)[(set: $Procya_CalculatedWillPower to 0)(display: "Evening - Anal bad end")]{ }(else:)[He stretches you painfully wide, and you bite a section of the blanket to stifle the embarrassing, pained gasps that are forced from your lips. You can feel him leaking into your guts, albeit not as much as you're now leaking through your cage. Each thrust into you is slow and clumsy, and you struggle to get used to them. There's no rhythm or intention to his movements. He simply grinds inside you as he pleases, twitching and throbbing inside you. You wonder when he'll quit messing around and fuck you in earnest... ... and that's when you hear him snoring. You realise, with a combination of embarrassment and terror, that he's asleep. You spend most of the night softly gasping and whimpering as your master fucks you in their sleep. You are unable to drift off, knowing that if you sleep, there's a far larger chance of him coaxing an orgasm from you, and you are forced to remain awake for most of the night. {(display: "Procya - Scene result")}]

{(set: $Procya_LostWillPower to $Procya_Morning_LostWillPower) (set: $Procya_SettledDebt to $Procya_Morning_SettledDebt) }You awaken with a start, pulled from the comfort of unconsciousness by a loud, repetitive alarm. You roll over, groaning, and discover that your master is already doing his morning stretches. For a few guilty moments, you take in the details of his physique. He's wiry and toned, radiating energy and conviction. You feel strangely thankful that your master sleeps in the nude, lest you would have missed out on this chance to inspect him. He turns and summons you with a crooked finger. You move almost reflexively, self-preservation kicking in. You follow him into the nearby shower room, a decadent space composed of flowing marble and glass. He walks you past various bathing spaces and over to a lavish-looking shower. He claps, and the shower head begins to simulate rainfall. Unfortunately, despite your quiet protests, he forbids you from removing your chastity cage during the shower. He steps in, and after a moment of uncertainty, you follow. You sigh as the warm water soaks into your fur. It's the perfect temperature, of course. Your master pulls you close, asking no permission before his hands explore your body. You whine and gasp as he gropes at you, never got more than a few seconds without gripping your ample behind. (if: $Procya_CalculatedWillPower - $Procya_LostWillPower <= 0)[(set: $Procya_CalculatedWillPower to 0)(display: "Morning - Shower bad end")]{ }(else:)[Much to your embarrassment, you adore this. You find yourself pressing against him, much to the larger man's delight. He rewards you by squeezing you more thoroughly, and soon his palms have traced across every inch of your body–aside from your caged cock, of course. Despite the prolonged, sensual exploration of each other's bodies, it never escalates. You wonder if he did that on purpose, just to tease you. The rainfall slowly decreases to just a trickle, then shuts off entirely. A few seconds after the shower deactivates, you are both buffeted by pressurised jets of air from all sides. In just a few seconds, you're both completely dry. {(display: "Procya - Scene result")}]

{(if: $ContentWarning_Procya is true and $ContentWarnings is "High")[(goto: "Procya content warning")] (set: $Procya_DayCounter to 1) (set: $Procya_WillPower to 100) (set: $Procya_Debt to 0) }(if: $Procya_BeenBefore is false)[You chart a course for the planet of Procya and are soon orbiting the gargantuan planet. Strangely, despite your repeated scans of the planet's surface, there are no public landing pads. A repeating announcement forbids you from landing in undesignated spaces as well. You circle the planet for almost an hour but can't find anywhere to land. The few active landing pads openly demand atrocious prices far beyond anything you can pay. Just when you're about to give up, you finally receive an offer to land. It's "Free", the broadcast claims... albeit with some "Terms and services" attached. "Good enough," you think to yourself, responding to the broadcast and making your way down to the designated landing pad. You touch down and leave your ship soon after, only to be greeted by the owner of the landing pad. They're an athletic-looking Procyon, a humanoid raccoon who stands about a head taller than you. "Greetings, my name is Andelaar. Please allow me to be the first to welcome you to the planet Procya." He says with a bow. "Thank you for using this premium, VIP landing pad." "Premium?" you ask, incredulous. "I thought this was free?" "Free? You must be kidding. Didn't you read those terms and services?" he asks with a cruel grin. He knows damn well you didn't. He pulls out a tablet and begins tapping away, suddenly feigning a shocked expression. "Oh no! You don't have enough funds to pay my very, very fair prices! Guess we'll need to reach some other kind of agreement." he tells you. You roll your eyes. How the hell did you let someone scam you so easily? "Alright, I'll bite," you tell him. "What kind of "agreement" did you have in mind?" "A brief contract," he responds. "I'm a sporting individual, so I'll even structure it like a little challenge. Work for me until you pay off your debt, and I'll let you go! I'll even keep your ship safe in storage until you're done." "What's the catch?" you ask, knowing there must be something more. "Oh, if you cum while working for me, I get to keep you," he replies, crooking a finger beneath your chin. When he sees you're about to refuse, his expression hardens for a moment. "Or, y'know, I can just pass you along to the authorities. Thieves get long sentences on Procya, and I doubt someone like //you// would last long in prison." You grit your teeth. That's ridiculous; there's no way you'd accept his offer under normal circumstances... but this bastard is right; your hands are tied. He doesn't need to hear you accept his offer. He knows you don't have a choice. "Starting tomorrow, you'll serve me in any way I desire. Do a good enough job, and I'm sure you'll pay off that debt in no time!" You grit your teeth and prepare for your first day as an indentured servant... ]{ }(else:)[You chart a course for the hypercapitalist world of Procya and are soon in orbit of the planet. Beginning a scan of the planet's surface, you run into the same issue as the last time you visited–There's a complete lack of affordable landing pads. After exploring your options for a few hours, you finally find a free landing pad. Worn down from searching, you immediately respond to the broadcast and bring yourself in for a landing. Much to your horror and immeasurable embarrassment, you are met with a familiar face. "Greetings, my name is Andelaar. Please allow me to be the first to welcome you to the planet Procya." He says with a bow. "Thank you for using this premium, VIP landing pad." You curse yourself–How the hell did you fall for the same scam again? "Let me guess," you begin. "It was a trick, and I'm gonna have to become your indentured servant, aren't I?" He looks genuinely shocked for a moment before regaining his composure. "What!? You wound me, fine sir... although..." He taps at his tablet, much the same as he did the first time you met. "It would appear you have insufficient funds to pay for the use of my landing pad. Perhaps we could come to some kind of agreement?" You sigh as the Procyon explains his terms, which are identical to your previous encounter. With no other options, you accept his terms, feeling exceptionally stupid for being caught by them multiple times. "You know," he begins as the two of you walk into his home. "You remind me of another servant I had not too long ago. You even sound the same." "Is that so..." you respond, doing your best to hide your shame.] --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Begin->Procya - Day RNG]]</td> </tr> </table> (set: $Procya_BeenBefore to true)}

{(set: $Procya_LostWillPower to $Procya_Morning_LostWillPower) (set: $Procya_SettledDebt to $Procya_Morning_SettledDebt) }You awaken slowly, your eyes fluttering awake as the scent of food wafts past your nostrils. Groggily rolling onto your side, you discover that Andelaar has already left the bedroom. You should hurry–There's no doubt in your mind that you'll be punished for oversleeping. Hurriedly, you throw aside the covers and rush into the adjacent kitchen, where you find your master enjoying a luxurious breakfast. Ahead of him, on a gigantic platter, sits a ginormous feast. It all looks and smells delicious. Wiping some drool from your chin, you approach the food. You outstretch a hand towards a particularly tasty-looking morsel and- **//Crack!//** -You rip your hand away from the food, nursing the fresh bruise on your wrist. Andelaar glares at you, looking unimpressed, holding a wooden spoon, ready to strike you again. "That food's for people, pet," he tells you before pointing over to a red dog bowl in the corner of the room. "There's your breakfast." Still rubbing at your wrist, you approach the dog bowl. Much to your horror, it's filled with a familiar, white, viscous fluid. He can't be serious... You open your mouth to complain, only for your stomach to let out a painful rumble. You're hungry, the scent of the nearby feast leaving you feeling like you're practically starving. With soft, ashamed little tears in your eyes, you lower yourself onto all fours. The scent of the food is eclipsed by that of his cum, your breakfast. With tremendous apprehension, you begin to lap and swallow at it, gagging softly as the masculine, overly-salty taste fills your mouth. (if: $Procya_CalculatedWillPower - $Procya_LostWillPower <= 0)[(set: $Procya_CalculatedWillPower to 0)(display: "Morning - Breakfast bad end")]{ }(else:)[Much to your embarrassment, you're soon tonguing the bowl clean. Your hunger has subsided, although you feel a little sick from how much cum you've just swallowed. As you pull back, kneeling and wiping the fluid from your muzzle, a hand suddenly ruffles your hair. "Good puppy," Andelaar coos down at you. Crimson explodes across your cheeks, and you stammer out fragmented words as you attempt to regain your composure. Your master only laughs, noticing that your tail has begun to wag. {(display: "Procya - Scene result")}]

{(set: $Procya_LostWillPower to $Procya_Evening_LostWillPower) (set: $Procya_SettledDebt to $Procya_Evening_SettledDebt) }As the sun sets, your master suddenly announces that he's throwing a masquerade party. Seemingly, he prepared in advance but just wanted to tell you in a theatrical, teasing fashion at the last moment. "It's an old Procyon tradition, you see," he tells you, although you've learned to doubt anything he says. He lifts a nearby box onto the kitchen counter as he speaks, soon reaching inside and lifting out a beautiful and ornate mask. It's so finely crafted, in fact, that you begin to feel anxious simply being in proximity of something so obviously expensive. You're filled with dread at the thought he's bought you a similar mask, and you immediately resolve to guard it carefully throughout the night. There's no mask for you, however. As you're quickly coming to realise, an indentured servant is of little status in Procyon culture as a particularly talkative piece of furniture. You only end up trading one worry for another, though. You realise, face flushing red, that you will be the only person tonight unable to obscure their identity. Soon, guests begin arriving. You find yourself less embarrassed by your own nudity than you are by theirs'. None of the men and women arriving are wearing anything but their ornate party masks. As your master's home begins to fill with dozens upon dozens of naked individuals, you find it increasingly difficult to keep track of Andelaar. He constantly mingles and moves between groups of other masked, relatively similar-looking raccoon folk. Despite your best efforts, you soon lose track of him. Unable to discern which of the men eyeing you is really your master, you quickly form a plan to hide away. You turn, only to immediately collide with someone. "There you are," a masked man chuckles down at you. You feel relieved, if only for a second. This man radiates Andelaar's confidence... but... his body type is all wrong. This can't be your master, but why is he talking to you so freely? So intently? Did he know you'd be here? Did... your master tell them about you? "On your knees, slut," the domineering stranger commands. You freeze up, hurriedly scanning the room for your master, but instead, you find a truly obscene situation unfolding around you. Many of the naked visitors are now engaging in acts of debauchery with one another. All kinds of lewd acts are now taking place. In addition to the increasingly impatient man in front of you, two more have now closed in from other directions. You audibly gulp as they force you down onto all fours... The rest of the evening is a blur. You are, to put it likely, used as a Procyon cum-dump until the small hours of the morning. (if: $Procya_CalculatedWillPower - $Procya_LostWillPower <= 0)[(set: $Procya_CalculatedWillPower to 0)(display: "Evening - Party bad end")]{ }(else:)[You throat unfamiliar, throbbing cocks, have your insides rearranged by dozens of wealthy strangers, and barely, just barely, manage to endure it all without orgasm. Hours later, you lie half-conscious in a sizable puddle of cum. You are vaguely aware of guests departing, although you're too fucked silly to understand what that means. A final guest approaches you. He removes his mask to reveal himself as Andelaar. He coos something down at you with a lewd, satisfied smile on his face, but you don't hear, not really. The borders of your vision begin to darken, your face falls into the puddle of cum with a lewd splash, and you pass out. {(display: "Procya - Scene result")}]

{(set: $Procya_LostWillPower to $Procya_Evening_LostWillPower) (set: $Procya_SettledDebt to $Procya_Evening_SettledDebt) }Now evening, your master suddenly declares that you'll both be visiting a local restaurant. He leads you outside, much to your embarrassment, and into a waiting limousine. You soon arrive, greeted by a number of waiting staff. Andelaar is led to their table, and you, almost entirely ignored, follow close behind him. Unfortunately, when you arrive at the table, you're quick to discover that there's only one chair. You give Andelaar an unsure look, and he simply responds by motioning for you to climb beneath the table. You do so, albeit with immense embarrassment. A waiter arrives just as you finish climbing out of sight. Your master orders an immense platter of tasty-sounding meals, whereas he only orders a "Pet's special" for you. His food arrives soon after, alongside a bowl of mysterious white liquid, which is slid carelessly beneath the table. From the smell alone, you recognise the liquid as semen. You hesitate and whine before your rumbling stomach gets the better of you, and you're soon reluctantly lapping at the liquid. (if: $Procya_CalculatedWillPower - $Procya_LostWillPower <= 0)[(set: $Procya_CalculatedWillPower to 0)(display: "Evening - Dinner bad end")]{ }(else:)[Showing you the slightest amount of mercy and compassion, Andelaar occasionally tosses you some scraps as well. You wolf them down, grateful to consume something other than cum. For a few moments, you utterly adore your master for feeding you before remembering that it's his fault you're in this situation to begin with. You leave about an hour later, and, much to your confusion, the other patrons of the restaurant point and laugh at you as you leave. You're sure they weren't that mean when you arrived... Arriving home in the small hours of the morning, Andelaar quickly climbs into bed. You join him, and, much to your horror, he takes a moment to wipe a sizable glob of cum from your muzzle. You realise that the earlier jeering from onlookers was because they knew exactly what you'd done. {(display: "Procya - Scene result")}]

{(set: $Procya_LostWillPower to $Procya_Evening_LostWillPower) (set: $Procya_SettledDebt to $Procya_Evening_SettledDebt) }As the evening trails on, Andelaar suddenly guides you through to a pre-prepared, luxurious-looking bath. It's beyond huge and adorned with lavish decorations. The surface of the water swirls with colourful soaps and oils, no doubt the perfect concoction to maintain your master's luscious fur. Your master throws aside his clothing and climbs into the bath, letting out a relaxed sigh as he submerges everything up to his neck in the warm, soapy water. Soon after, he beckons for you to climb in as well. Although the tub is utterly huge, he has you straddle his lap. You whimper in embarrassment, although you can't deny that the warm water feels heavenly across every part of you that it covers. Just as you're beginning to relax, however, you feel Andelaar's stiffening cock throbbing between your cheeks. He gives you a knowing look, and you tense up expectantly. "Just kidding," he says after a few moments, watching as confusion flickers across your face. He reaches up with a soapy hand and cups beneath your chin. "You thought I was going to fuck you... and all you did was sit there. How'd I get so lucky with a little whore like you..." (if: $Procya_CalculatedWillPower - $Procya_LostWillPower <= 0)[(set: $Procya_CalculatedWillPower to 0)(display: "Evening - Bath bad end")]{ }(else:)[You whine loudly, wracked with embarrassment. It's as if his teasing words just impacted your very soul. You want to retort, to deny, but you're too flustered to respond. You can do nothing but accept this... that this, at least for a little while longer, is your life. The rest of the bath plays out surprisingly innocently, although Andelaar teases you throughout it. He insists that you clean him and makes you spend extra time fondling and rubbing at his sizable manhood. When you're both clean, he leads you to a nearby device that airblasts you dry. You both fall into bed soon after, drifting off to sleep. {(display: "Procya - Scene result")}]

{(set: $Procya_LostWillPower to $Procya_Afternoon_LostWillPower) (set: $Procya_SettledDebt to $Procya_Afternoon_SettledDebt) }In the afternoon, your master suddenly leads you to a waiting transport ship. The vehicle is already in the air when he reveals you'll be accompanying him to the local mall. You freeze, mortified, at the prospect that you're going to be paraded around such a crowded place in nought but a chastity cage. When he sees the fear on your face, he teases you for it. "What's the matter, pet? Don't you enjoy going on shopping sprees?" he asks, arms around your waist. You pout, turning to look away from your master as redness flushes across your cheeks. "Bastard..." you think to yourself. You soon arrive, and as the airtight doors of the vehicle hiss open, you are immediately humiliated under the stares of countless strangers. You can do nothing but follow alongside your master as he leisurely explores the various merchant's stock. All the while, people watch you. You hear snide remarks from people who don't bother to lower their voices, knowing that there's nothing you can do either way. Andelaar's purchases throughout your journey are... excessive, to say the very least. From expensive wines to beautiful suits with price tags that make your eyes water, nothing seems beyond his reach. You're unsure if you feel admiration, fear, or both, at the sheer monetary power your master commands. Suddenly, however, he stops you with a sharp tug. You whimper, wondering what's caught your master's eye. You turn, your face flushing an even deeper shade of red when you realise what store you're standing in front of. The sign hanging above this particular store reads "Pet accessories". You audibly gulp as he leads you inside. This entire store seems custom-built to embarrass you. Andelaar knows this, wasting no time adding to your already excessive humiliation. He suddenly grabs a squeaky toy from a nearby display, giving it a few squeezes and watching as you flinch at the noise. "Oh, you don't like this one?" he asks, well aware that you don't. "Don't worry, slut, I know one you'll //love//." He approaches a nearby employee and asks about their "cage fitting" service. Naturally, they're all too happy to oblige, and soon they're laying out a range of chastity cages in front of you both. You whine loudly at the selection. They're all humiliating in their own ways, ranging from hot pink contraptions to ornate, attention-grabbing designs. Some even appear to have diamonds and other precious materials used in their construction. Soft tears form in the corners of your eyes as you realise many of these cock cages are probably worth more than you are. After thinking for a while, Andelaar makes his choice. He passes the key to your existing cage to the employee, and they immediately begin your refitting. (if: $Procya_CalculatedWillPower - $Procya_LostWillPower <= 0)[(set: $Procya_CalculatedWillPower to 0)(display: "Afternoon - Shop bad end")]{ }(else:)[For a few wonderful seconds, your manhood is no longer encased in metal. You breathe a sigh of relief, feeling blood surge to your unused appendage. It feels amazing. If only you could- //Click!// You're brought back to reality by the cold sensation of metal enclosing your cock once more. What little freedom you enjoyed, only for a few brief seconds, has been snatched away from you again. What's worse, your new cage is particularly cute-looking... and quite a bit smaller than the one you had before. It's immediately uncomfortable, making it hard to think. You try to explain your discomfort, but the two men utterly ignore you. On the way home, Andelaar teases you relentlessly. He grips your behind, plays with your snug little cage, and generally does anything he can to bring you grief. Whenever you reach for your cage, overstimulated by his constant teasing, he immediately disciplines you for it. He balances awful threats with constant, unrelenting bullying that keeps you in a kind of torturous, chastity limbo. {(display: "Procya - Scene result")}]

{(set: $Procya_LostWillPower to $Procya_Afternoon_LostWillPower) (set: $Procya_SettledDebt to $Procya_Afternoon_SettledDebt) }In the afternoon, your master suddenly appears energised. He grips your wrist and pulls you out into one of the terraced gardens surrounding his property, where a private transport ship is just touching down. He leads you inside the autonomous chauffeur vehicle, and although there are lots of seats, he insists that you sit in his lap instead. Throughout the trip, he uses your close proximity as an excuse to touch and squeeze at you, all the while teasingly asking why you're getting so worked up. Less than an hour after takeoff, you touch down again. The airtight doors open with a hiss, and you are immediately able to smell the sea. Venturing after your master as he climbs outside, you find that you've been delivered to a yacht in the middle of a vast, beautiful ocean. "Like it? This is one of my smaller yachts," he tells you, letting out a hearty laugh when your disbelief becomes obvious. "Oh my God, you're SO cute. I bet you've never even been on a yacht before, have you?" You open your mouth to answer, but the prideful Procyon cuts you off before you can speak. "Ah, who cares about that? Let's grab a few drinks," he tells you. Andelaar approaches a nearby mini-fridge and procures a bottle of champagne from inside. He waves the bottle at you, inviting you to drink with him. Ultimately, however, regardless of your answer, he's soon pouring out two tall glasses. "W-What are we celebrating?" you ask as he passes you the slender, expensive-looking glass. "Celebrating?" he asks, with genuine confusion. "Oh... Oh, you think this is special?" You feel redness building in your cheeks. Why are you embarrassed by this pompous asshole's words? "Tell you what..." he finally says, crooking a finger beneath your chin. "Why don't we celebrate your contract and how it'll be sealed very soon?" You're too embarrassed to respond and reluctantly lift your glass of champagne to your lips. If nothing else, you think to yourself, the numbness that the alcohol brings will make it harder for him to push your buttons. (if: $Procya_CalculatedWillPower - $Procya_LostWillPower <= 0)[(set: $Procya_CalculatedWillPower to 0)(display: "Afternoon - Yacht bad end")]{ }(else:)[Ultimately, this proves to be true. You retain your composure, assisted by the slight numbness from the champagne, even after several hours of the insistent raccoon man's teasing advances. When he fails to make you orgasm, he doesn't seem fazed at all. Instead, he waves you back to the transport ship. As you sit in his lap, your face inches from his own, you can tell that he's already planning more debauched little activities to drag you on. {(display: "Procya - Scene result")}]

{(set: $Procya_LostWillPower to $Procya_Afternoon_LostWillPower) (set: $Procya_SettledDebt to $Procya_Afternoon_SettledDebt) }In the afternoon, a delivery suddenly arrives. Your master seems unusually excited, bringing the box inside and hurriedly unpackaging its contents. A few moments later, when he holds up a skimpy maid outfit, you're left red-faced. He commands you to put it on immediately, growing annoyed when you reluctantly approach him. Under threat of exacerbating your already considerable debt, you're soon putting on the humiliating uniform. Somehow it covers even less of you than you expected, with your chastity cage frequently poking out from beneath your new skirt. "Don't you look professional", the Procyon teases. He suddenly reaches beneath your skirt and flicks your cage with his finger. "If it weren't for this, someone might mistake you for an actual maid. Of course... you're far too indignified for that, aren't you?" You can do nothing but whimper in response. Satisfied with how much he's managed to embarrass you, the raccoon reclines on a nearby sofa. He waves you away, feigning disinterest. "Well?" he asks. "Get to cleaning, slut. I want this place spotless by the time you're done." Although you're embarrassed, you're forced to acknowledge that being turned into an impromptu housemaid is one of the least humiliating predicaments you've ended up in recently. You hurriedly begin to clean your master's apartment, worried about what other jobs he'll have you do if you refuse. You make your way around Andelaar's luxurious estate, making sure that everything is spotless. Truth be told, you find very, very little mess. At multiple points, you become aware of a camera, or Andelaar themself, watching you. The quiet click of a shutter confirms your worst fears–that photographs are being taken of you in your maid outfit, particularly when you bend over and your skirt covers nothing at all. (if: $Procya_CalculatedWillPower - $Procya_LostWillPower <= 0)[(set: $Procya_CalculatedWillPower to 0)(display: "Afternoon - Maid bad end")]{ }(else:)[As you consider the thought of obscene, costumed pictures of you floating around the Net, your chastity cage begins to feel tighter. You control your breathing, trying to distract yourself with the cleaning... but never quite manage it. Several hours later, when you finally finish cleaning your master's home, he has only a single response: He points to the floor, and you're horrified when you look down, only to find that your cage is dripping like a faucet. In fact, as you turn towards the room you just came from, you discover that there's a visible trail. You sigh, resigning yourself to clean up your own mess, but Andelaar stops you. "Oh, don't worry about that. The domestic drones'll handle it," he tells you with a casual smile. "W-wait!" you blurt out. "Then why have I been cleaning all this time?" "Oh, I just like how your ass looks in that skirt," he responds, licking his lips. {(display: "Procya - Scene result")}]

{(set: $Procya_LostWillPower to $Procya_Afternoon_LostWillPower) (set: $Procya_SettledDebt to $Procya_Afternoon_SettledDebt) }In the afternoon, Andelaar brings you to one of his estate's conference rooms. When you arrive, he commands you to stand in a certain spot, and you remain still and quiet. You do as you're told, albeit freezing up when dozens of faces suddenly appear on a nearby screen. "Gentlemen, thank you for your time," Andelaar says. "Shall we discuss our contracts?" As you stand motionless and red-faced, you're able to read a few of the stranger's titles. "Minister of trade", "Minister of security", "Assistant to the President", "Prince" Your blood runs cold. These are some of the most influential people in the galaxy, never mind Procya. What's worse, as Andelaar speaks, all eyes are on you. You realise immediately that many of the participants are looking at you, fantasising about you even, instead of paying attention to your master's words. (if: $Procya_CalculatedWillPower - $Procya_LostWillPower <= 0)[(set: $Procya_CalculatedWillPower to 0)(display: "Afternoon - Meeting bad end")]{ }(else:)[You can practically feel how red your face is, but you don't dare move. Even as the powerful men in the call stumble over their words or just openly stare at you when they should be speaking, you follow your master's command to stay still. Andelaar is using this to his advantage, of course, and utterly dominating the meeting as a result. You're sure that many of the participants agree to strategies and contracts without actually hearing what they are, far too distracted by your naked form. "Thank you, gentlemen. Let's reconvene sometime soon," Andelaar soon says before terminating the call. As the call ends, Andelaar slumps back in his chair with a relieved sigh. He soon turns to you with a cheeky grin. "Thanks, slut. Always helps to have some eye candy to throw off the competition." You whimper quietly, still mortified that some of the planet's most powerful individuals have now seen your humiliating predicament and, furthermore, that your master used you as a glorified piece of furniture. {(display: "Procya - Scene result")}]

{(set: $Procya_LostWillPower to $Procya_Afternoon_LostWillPower) (set: $Procya_SettledDebt to $Procya_Afternoon_SettledDebt) }In the afternoon, your master suddenly commands you to follow him. He leads you to a transport ship that has landed on a nearby terrace, and soon the two of you are being whisked away to parts unknown. Throughout the journey, you grow increasingly anxious, your master watching you with an expression you've come to understand proceeds the worst forms of humiliation he can conjure. When the doors of the transport finally open, your cheeks immediately flush red. Ahead of you is a large business with many customers and workers. You move your hands to cover yourself, but a sharp tutting sound from your master puts an end to that endeavour. As you enter the building, you spot a brightly-coloured sign that reads "Betting Parlour". You're led inside, despite your quiet whines and half-protests. You are commanded to wait just inside the business' entrance while your master continues further inside. You watch as he stops to talk with a nearby betting parlour worker, who suddenly begins eyeing you. After a few moments, they nod before hurrying off to places unknown. "Great news, pet!" Andelaar tells you with a smile. "You're gonna help me win a bet!" "W-Wha-" you blurt out, your questioning cut short when you're seized by each arm. On either side of you are employees of the betting parlour, and they immediately tie your hands behind your back. Bound and unable to escape, you can do nothing as you're bent over one of the nearby tables. You understand immediately what he must have bet on–the closure of your contract! You grit your teeth and resolve not to orgasm, although as the tip of a stranger's cock stretches you wide, you know this will be very, very difficult. Over the next few hours, countless men line up to lodge their manhoods deep in your guts. You quickly lose count of how many men have emptied their balls into your guts. Perhaps it's better that you don't know... (if: $Procya_CalculatedWillPower - $Procya_LostWillPower <= 0)[(set: $Procya_CalculatedWillPower to 0)(display: "Afternoon - Betting bad end")]{ }(else:)[By some miracle, just barely, you don't cum. You are, however, reduced to a quivering, insensate mess. Your stomach is visibly rounded from the number of loads that strangers have dumped into it, and your cage is producing a small waterfall of precum. When you're finally released from your bondage, you ashamedly approach your master. Worry stirs within you–you must've just lost him a lot of money. "S-sorry", you whimper out, unsure why you're apologising for retaining your freedom. "Huh? What for?" he asks before an understanding look suddenly flashes across his face. "Oh! Do you think I bet on whether or not you'd cum? Oh no, sweetheart." He steps closer, pulling you against himself so that his lips hover just inches from your ear. "I bet on whether or not you'd let every guy in the room fuck you without resisting," he tells you, chuckling when you begin to literally shudder with embarrassment. "You just won me a pretty penny, whore." {(display: "Procya - Scene result")}]

{<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td colspan="2" style="font-size:300%">Content Warning</td> </tr> <tr> <td colspan="2" style="font-size:200%">This planet contains a variety of different kinks!</td> </tr> <tr> <td colspan="2" style="font-size:150%">Kinks: Knots, size-difference, werewolves, lack of consent.</td> </tr> </table> } --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center; border-spacing:2em; table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Go back" , "Ship - Bridge")</td> <td>(link:"Proceed")[(set: $ContentWarning_Luna to false)(goto:"Arrive on Luna")]</td> </tr> </table>}

{<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td colspan="2" style="font-size:300%">Content Warning</td> </tr> <tr> <td colspan="2" style="font-size:200%">This planet contains a variety of different kinks!</td> </tr> <tr> <td colspan="2" style="font-size:150%">Kinks: Tentacles, forceful lovers, infestation, inflation.</td> </tr> </table> } --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center; border-spacing:2em; table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Go back" , "Ship - Bridge")</td> <td>(link:"Proceed")[(set: $ContentWarning_Taun to false)(goto:"Arrive on Taun")]</td> </tr> </table>}

{<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td colspan="2" style="font-size:300%">Content Warning</td> </tr> <tr> <td colspan="2" style="font-size:200%">This planet contains a variety of different kinks!</td> </tr> <tr> <td colspan="2" style="font-size:150%">Kinks: Degradation, humiliation, illicit substances, hypnosis, transformation.</td> </tr> </table> } --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center; border-spacing:2em; table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Go back" , "Ship - Bridge")</td> <td>(link:"Proceed")[(set: $ContentWarning_Metris2 to false)(goto:"Arrive on Metris-2")]</td> </tr> </table>}

{<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td colspan="2" style="font-size:300%">Content Warning</td> </tr> <tr> <td colspan="2" style="font-size:200%">This planet contains a variety of different kinks!</td> </tr> <tr> <td colspan="2" style="font-size:150%">Kinks: Indentured servitude, dubious consent, abuse, humiliation, imprisonment.</td> </tr> </table> } --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center; border-spacing:2em; table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Go back" , "Ship - Bridge")</td> <td>(link:"Proceed")[(set: $ContentWarning_Procya to false)(goto:"Arrive on Procya")]</td> </tr> </table>}

{<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td colspan="2" style="font-size:300%">Content Warning</td> </tr> <tr> <td colspan="2" style="font-size:200%">This planet contains a variety of different kinks!</td> </tr> <tr> <td colspan="2" style="font-size:150%">Kinks: Himbos, muscles, muscleguts, excessive cum, size-difference.</td> </tr> </table> } --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center; border-spacing:2em; table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Go back" , "Ship - Bridge")</td> <td>(link:"Proceed")[(set: $ContentWarning_Hedon to false)(goto:"Arrive on Hedon")]</td> </tr> </table>}

(if: $ContentWarnings is "High")[ 😵 ] (if: $ContentWarnings is "High")[ 🤕] (if: $ContentWarnings is "High")[ 😥 ] (if: $ContentWarnings is "High")[ 🤢 ]

{(set: $Procya_CalculatedWillPower to it - $Procya_LostWillPower) (set: $Procya_CalculatedDebt to it + $Procya_SettledDebt) <table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>- You lose $Procya_LostWillPower willpower ($Procya_CalculatedWillPower/100). You pay off $Procya_SettledDebt credits of debt. ($Procya_CalculatedDebt/15,000) -</td> </tr> </table>}

Despite your best efforts, his roaming hands and toned body prove too much for you to bear. You find yourself pressing against him, indulging in his physique, and–before you have time to stop–gushing cum through your chastity cage. You try to hide what you've just done, but it's far too obvious. If not the copious volume of cum dripping from your cage, he definitely noticed how you tensed up or heard the sound of your gasps muffled beneath the running water. Your contract is now sealed, and you're at least relieved when Andelaar smiles down at you. Having learned just how much you adore his body and how much you seem to enjoy touching him, he immediately sets you to work as his new body-worshipping slave. . . . As the days turn to weeks, you find yourself becoming more and more willing to follow Andelaar's commands. You touch him without thinking, fall in love with his body, and genuinely become addicted to his scent and taste. Eventually, you even accept your fate as his body-worshipping slave. Unfortunately, when you tell him this, his reaction is not what you expected. He looks bored, disappointed even. Without that fight, those badly-hidden aspirations of escape, you're no longer "interesting" enough to keep him satisfied. "Without the game of cat and mouse," he tells you ", There's nothing separating you from all the other sluts on the planet." You panic, promise to resist him, promise to try and escape, but he denies you. He knows that you'll just be pretending. Despite your protests, he soon sells you to someone else. With nothing to separate you from all the other dime-a-dozen whores of Procya, you're soon auctioned off for a sum of credits so low that it almost brings you to tears. You disappear, never to be seen again, and spend the rest of your life worshipping your new owner's body until your mind completely shatters. Long before that, however, your black box activates. This "you" is left to their unfortunate fate. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Rub and lick" , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table>}

As you throat more of your master's throbbing cock, you suddenly feel a stirring in your loins. It appears you've enjoyed sucking him off a little more than you thought... Despite your best efforts to think about something else, his taste and scent are both utterly inescapable. You squirm and struggle, desperately trying to retain your composure... but only end up spurting cum through the bars of your cage. When he finally blows a fat load down your throat, and you rise from beneath the covers to meet him, he already knows what you've done. Your contract sealed, he simply commands you to climb beneath the covers again, and you do so willingly. Over the next few days, he does nothing but plough your throat. Over and over again, you gag, splutter and gulp. He seems to expect you to detest him for using your throat so thoroughly, but you instead grow to love him for it. When he finishes giving you a particularly rough face-fucking, only to find you staring up at him with obvious adoration, he grows disgusted with you. Uninterested in you now that you're so willing, he quickly schedules an auction. You are bought by a local brothel, and your newfound oral fixations are immediately put to good use. . . . You gulp reflexively as ropes of cum hit the back of your throat. Cum leaks from your cage as you climax from the taste of your lover's seed. Your heart races–you love this person for feeding you–whoever they are. Unfortunately, every one of your lovers remains an unknown stranger. You're blindfolded, and a pair of headphones constantly bombard you with repeating, insistent declarations that you will never be anything but a whore. These serve two purposes: The first, to maintain the privacy of the many clients who breed with your throat, and the second, to quicken your descent into complete and utter obedience. Only a few moments after the last climax spurted into your maw, a new cock slides past your lips. You've already forgotten the previous lover, now whimpering muffled declarations of love around the cock of this one. He ignores you, of course, and begins to sloppily face fuck you. Having developed your new adoration for throating fat, throbbing cocks, you're overjoyed when that becomes every waking hour of the rest of your life. Your black box activates as the last of your desire to escape is drowned beneath the cum of strangers. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Gag and choke" , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table> (display: "Image : Hypno")}

Unfortunately, your master's stamina seems bottomless. He slams into your aching ass over and over again with unrelenting force. Eventually, this proves too much for you to bear. Hiding it as best you can, you spurt thick ropes of cum through the bars of your chastity cage. You try to control your breathing. Maybe you can clean this up before he notices? Suddenly, you feel a ragged breath against your ear. "I felt you clenching, slut," Andelaar teases, and you realise that your old life has drawn to a close. You whimper out a response–a lie–but he ignores it. Instead, now in complete ownership of you and your body, he fucks you in earnest. You're quickly reduced to a whimpering, drooling, fucked silly mess. He pumps no less than four loads into your bruised insides before darkness finally overtakes you. While you're asleep, he sells your sentient rights on an online auction. . . . A few weeks later, not much of your previous personality remains, fucked out of you along with your desire to escape. You've spent every waking hour having your now gaping asshole brutally pounded by complete strangers. It must have been hundreds by now... When one man withdraws from your gaping, twitching, leaking hole, another immediately takes his place. With what little brain power you have left, you imagine a trailing queue of horny men, all waiting their turn to ruin you. Every lucid moment is dominated by the sensation of girthy, fat cocks stretching out your insides or pumping you so full of cum that your stomach begins to touch the circumference of the hole you now lie through. Even if you were to be rescued, there'd be nothing of your previous life worth salvaging. Your black box detects this and activates. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Moan and drool" , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table>}

As the salty fluid fills your mouth, something in you breaks. Is this really how far you've fallen? From an adventurer to... this...? You imagine what your superiors would say, what the average person would think if they saw you like this. Fresh shame bubbles within you, your heart races and, much to your horror, you feel your chastity cage growing tight. You try to clear your mind, to simply drink down your master's cum without thinking about it–but it's no good. The taste, the smell, it's inescapable. It clings to your muzzle and jumbles your thoughts. Before you know what you're doing, cum is already gushing through the bars of your cage. You shudder and moan as you finally achieve release, your orgasm so intense that you don't think to look back towards your master until long after your climax has faded. When you turn to Andelaar, you're met with utter disgust. He glares down at you. "Disgusting..." he blurts out with genuine contempt. That same morning, he begins the process of auctioning you. You plead for him to keep you and promise to do whatever he says, but he denies you. He tells you that no self-respecting businessman would ever keep such a worthless, perverted whore. He brutally informs you that your only "special" feature was that you were trying to escape, and without it, you're a dime-a-dozen slut with below-average dignity. The auction takes place a few hours later and concludes in under an hour. You're ashamed at how low the bids on you are. . . . You gag around an unusually thick, throbbing cock. Its salty, masculine taste is inescapable. Similarly, a manly, unwashed musk floods your nostrils. You'd gag... if you weren't already addicted. That same evening your contract with Andelaar was sealed. He found an easy way to get rid of you. You now lie beneath an overweight Procyon, a head engineer at one of Andelaar's many companies, having had your sentient rights gifted to him alongside a recent promotion. Your new master has none of the tact or decorum that your old one did. He arrives home from long days, sweaty and hungry, and wastes no time brutalising your holes. You've become used to his weight atop you while he slams into your protesting mouth or gaping ass. When he's not crush-fucking you, he has you do the cooking and cleaning. They're a welcome distraction from your less dignified duties... Detecting that you're currently pinned beneath a man half a dozen times your weight and that your mental faculties are on the verge of collapse, your black box activates. This "you" is discarded in favour of, hopefully, a much luckier one. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Gag and gulp" , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table>}

Although you try your hardest, the sudden affection from a complete stranger sends you careening over the edge. You tense up, crying out as thick spurts of cum blast past the bars of your cock cage. Both men look unimpressed with you, and you immediately begin apologising. You're halfway through a sentence when a sharp tug of your lead forces you to be silent. He leads you home without another word–and you suspect he intends to punish you–but it turns out to be something far worse. Andelaar has no difficulties bringing together a team of highly "incentivised" lawyers who easily annul your sentient rights. From that moment onwards, you are no longer considered a person. Instead, the term "Pet" is far, far more appropriate. Your master has no need for a "Pet", however, and you are immediately sold to a collector who deals in individuals who have suffered similar fates to your own. . . . You let out a slutty whine as a cock smashes into you, bulging out your stomach. Teeth nip at your shoulder, a relatively gentle chomp that still proves more than enough to draw blood. Cum spurts from your cage as the pleasure and pain coalesce into a combination you've fallen in love with. The one fucking you is "Titus", your mate. That isn't his original name, of course. He's a "pet", just like you, and the largest Lunisian you've ever seen. Whether through gene-modding, drugs, or diet, he's ridiculously huge and virile. The first few days you spent together, you were terrified of him. He rearranged your insides with such brutal ferocity that you suspected you'd either break or be turned into a chew toy. Luckily, he seems to understand that if he breaks you, he won't get to fuck you anymore. You spend most of your waking and sleeping moments knotted by the gigantic wolf. Your stomach bulges constantly, whether from the intrusion of his throbbing cock, the litres of cum he produces with ease or both. Even when your owner takes you out for a walk, you hang limply from his crotch. The weeks of being knot-fucked until you're insensate have eroded your mind, and now you're about as smart as the "mutt" your owner claims you to be. They try to teach you tricks, although you frequently forget them. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Sit. Stay. Breed." , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table> (display: "Image : MindBreak")}

Tragedy strikes almost immediately, however. As soon as the store worker unlocks and removes your cage, you find yourself growing to full mask. You didn't realise how pent-up you were until now. Your master commands you to relax, while you are only able to gasp and whine. The insistent hands of the store employee, hurriedly trying to equip you with a new, smaller cage, prevent you from calming down. Despite your best efforts, you're soon spraying a thick, white load down the aisle. It's the best orgasm of your life, albeit one of the most embarrassing. "It would seem a cage was too... kind... for you, slut," Andelaar says with audible rage. He motions to the store employee, who nods and hurries off. When they return, you're mortified to see that they're holding a latex uniform–a drone suit. Reflexively, you hesitate, only for Andelaar to remind you of your contract... and that the penalties for breaking it would be far, far worse than this. With no other options, you allow the two men to dress you in the latex suit. It feels bizarre against your fur, but the weight and closeness of the material feel oddly comforting. The headpiece blocks your view of the world, muffles sounds, and allows you to hear only the sounds of zippers, clasps and locks as they're moved into place... never to be removed again. . . . You'd be drooling were it not for the thick latex that encapsulates not only your head but your entire body as well. The only openings in the rubbery uniform are a few holes that allow you to breathe and one that leaves your well-used hole exposed. A long hose snakes from a nearby machine and under your latex uniform, where its end surrounds your permanently leaking cock. At your rear, a piston sends a horse cock dildo barreling into your guts with unbreaking rhythm. Fed up with you, Andelaar outsourced you to one of the many companies he owns, in this case, a milking factory. You were immediately whisked away, already in your new uniform, and hooked up to a milking machine. Regular injections of mind-breaking, transformative fluids have rendered you completely docile and willing, as well as extremely productive. You squirm and cry out mindlessly as orgasm after orgasm is forced from your ever-growing balls. Without a single scrap of your original personality remaining, your black box soon activates. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Cum... again and again..." , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table> (display: "Image : MindBreak")}

Unfortunately, the opposite appears to be true. As you drink more of the expensive champagne, your body feels more sensitive, and your resistances begin to waver. Before you know what's happening, the constant teasing from your master has brought you right up to the precipice of orgasm. You try to pull away, be he holds you still. He stares into your eyes with a knowing smile and, with one final act of cruelty, he squeezes your rump like a pair of stress balls. Instantly, cum gushes from your cage with such force that it completely saturates the fur of your thighs and lower stomach. "Hm." Andelaar sighs, rising to his feet. "I expected more from you." You plead with him, your breath still ragged from cumming so hard. He just ignores you and, much to your horror, boards the waiting transport ship without you. . . . You cry out as the immense girth of a stranger's cock rearranges your insides. They're dangling you precariously off the side of the yacht, relishing in your terror as you tense up and squeeze around them. At first, you thought that Andelaar had simply abandoned you. You had begun to think of escape strategies, ways you might survive out on the sea... but you soon realised something far more cruel was afoot. After a few days, a transport ship arrived. You thought it to be Andelaar and excitedly rushed to greet it. Instead, you found one of his friends. They immediately overpowered you and had their way with you, only stopping when you were in real danger of breaking. The next day, another stranger appeared. Just like the first, they took you without even asking. The third and fourth were the same, as was every day after that. Your days are now spent waking, still aching from the abuse of yesterday's stranger, and immediately being grabbed by a new one. This current one, however, is a special breed. Gene-modded, for sure. He smashes his unnaturally massive cock into you without a single moment of concern for your well-being. He's emptied his balls into you so many times that you can taste his seed on your tongue. Finally, he throws you back onto the deck, where you land with an obscene "Splat!". He admires his handiwork but suddenly grows angry at the sight of your gaping hole. "Fucking slut." the man spits down at your fucked silly face. "I bet that asshole makes me buy you now." --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "God, you hope so..." , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table>}

Despite your best efforts to remain still and calm, you can't escape all of the eyes watching you. You imagine the fantasies these men are having, the power they'd wield over you if they could. Before you realise you've begun fantasising as well, you're already gasping as alabaster drips from your cage. Andelaar turns to you with a mixture of disappointment and spite on his face. This lasts only a minute though before he turns back to the other businessmen. "Excellent!" he says as if this was the plan all along. "It seems my friend here just popped his cork, meaning if one of you takes the latest trade agreement, I'll throw in this rare Vulpis slave as well." It isn't long before the men are fighting between themselves, trying to decide who gets to sign the agreement. You're left to stand there, horrified that your old life has come to an end, the evidence of your weakness still dripping onto the floor beneath you. . . . You stay still, as still as you possibly can. Since you were purchased, you've been kept as a piece of living furniture. Your only job is to stand, completely nude, in whatever obscene pose your owner thinks of. You pose for hours upon hours at a time, manipulated by a series of pain-suppressive and reparative microbots you obtain shortly after being bought. For some reason, when people stare at your motionless body, you immediately cum. You want to believe that the microbots are doing that as well, but, to your immense shame, you realise you've just developed an exhibitionism fetish. The only time you're not posing, still as a statue, is when your owner grows so aroused by whatever pose you're pulling that they carry you to bed and fuck you senseless. You quickly fall in love with him for these rare sessions alone. Forced to stand still and quiet for so long, it's not long before your mind goes quiet too. Your black box activates, although it barely sends anything at all. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: ". . ." , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table> (display: "Image : MindBreak")}

Whatever the number, however, you've sadly hit your limit. The next man to slam into you does so with both force and precision, smashing against your prostate when you least expected it. You're climaxing before you have a chance to react, splattering cum all over the table and floor beneath you. "Well, boys. Guess he's yours." Andelaar says, still chipper as ever. You realise now that his bet involved who would acquire your ownership once your contract was sealed. You know now how little you meant to the excessively wealthy raccoon and immediately begin cursing at him as he leaves. He simply turns for a moment, smiling, and with a teasing wave, he abandons you to your fate. . . . You gasp as the air is repeatedly knocked from your lungs, the gigantic pair of cocks battering into your bruised hole, striking hard and deep. Ahead of you is an angry-looking Procyon, and behind you, there is the same. These two men seek to resolve a bet, namely, which one of them can go the longest without blowing their load inside you. Since the betting parlour acquired you, they've allowed any customer to use your body to resolve a bet. This became instantly popular, and you've been subjected to all kinds of sexual escapades so that others can resolve disagreements and petty disputes. Today, the man in front of you is the loser. You feel him tense up, albeit just a few moments before the other man does the same, and then jets of warmth flood up through your insides and bloat your stomach. There's a final squabble between the two men as they toss you aside, no longer requiring your services. The betting parlour itself has a running bet. They bet that any visitor will fail to break your mind through sexual means. In the last week alone, hundreds of men have stepped up to the plate and tried, over and over again, to fuck you until your fragile mind disintegrates. Nobody has managed it yet, but as a hyper-dicked Procyon crouches in through the entryway, you know that your days are numbered. Detecting your lack of hope, your black box activates. It's probably a good thing that the next you won't know what happened next... --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Break" , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table>}

Try as you might. You can't stop yourself from imagining all the lewd pictures that your master is taking of you. Even when you try to limit your movements to ones that won't reveal your intimate areas, you find that your skimpy uniform makes that almost impossible. Growing bored of cleaning, you find yourself fantasising about the pictures being taken. You wonder if someone will recognise you from the photos he's taking... What will they think...? You snap back to reality just in time to realise what a mistake you've made. You're confronted with the bubbling pleasure of an approaching orgasm and are completely powerless to stop it. You gush what feels like a litre of cum through metal openings on your sissy cage, cursing yourself in between moans as you make a gigantic mess. Hurriedly, you try to clean up the mess you've just made, but to no avail. You hear footfalls approaching, and soon there's a familiar voice above you. "Tut tut," your master says. You can picture the toothy, terrifying grin on his face without even looking up at him. "That's no way for a maid to act, is it?" . . . After being disciplined by your master, he was quick to sell you off. Having seen how... "Excited"... you became while serving as his maid, he allows you to be purchased by a local housemaid service. Your new employer takes advantage of you constantly, renting you out to all kinds of sleazy clients who use and abuse you. In all honesty, they seem far less focused on having you clean their homes than taking their seed. Each day, you arrive back at your new home and are punished for making such a mess of yourself, your uniform, and your clients' homes. You apologise profusely and promise you'll do better tomorrow... but you never manage it. Unbeknownst to you, this is just another of Andelaar's games. The "housemaid service" you work for is, in fact, just a themed escort service. With no hope of escape, your black box activates. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Clean up your mess" , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table>}

You were already on edge, but the way he speaks to you... The way he belittles you... why do you enjoy it so damn much? You tense up and try to control your breathing, but his words pinball around in your brain until, finally, you break. Andelaar watches you with abject disgust as your ruin the bath–sticky, alabaster fluid rising from your cage and tainting the hot, soapy water. He stands immediately and exits the bath, avoiding the cloud of cum that now occupies its centre. You can do nothing but whine in embarrassment as he leaves you alone, and you soon hear him making a call. The only words you can make out are "immediate" and "auction". . . . You try to hide your excitement as you bring your hands to the soapy fur of a stranger's toned abdominals. You rub and lather, as you've done with dozens upon dozens of previous clients. When your eyes flicker upwards to your client's face, he locks eyes with you and licks his lips. You feel your fur bristle, and your heart races as he relaxes, allowing you access to even more intimate exploration of his glorious, wonderful body. When you were sold a few weeks prior, a local bathhouse was quick to place an offer, and you were quickly put to work. At the exchange, Andelaar had stressed how much you adore men's bodies, and so the bathhouse immediately began giving you their most involved contracts. You've spent your days since then washing, and worshipping, the bodies of big, powerful men. You've come to meet each new client with excitement and curiosity, growing to adore the vast variety of bodies that you're now allowed to touch and examine. Most, if not all, of the men fuck you during their sessions as well. Some are gentle, allowing you to indulge them yourself, while others lift you from the ground and take exactly what they want from you. Each has their own method, their own rhythms and sexual styles, and you become fascinated with every new client as a result. Soon, this fascination turns into an addiction. You remain aware enough to know what a shameful little slut you've become, but can't bring yourself to reject your new desires. Giving up on your adventure, your black box activates. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Worship strangers" , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table>}

It's too much–too sudden. You can't hold it together. Despite trying your hardest, you're soon clenching around his cock, gasping as cum pours through the openings of your cage. When your climax fades, you begin to panic. You need to clean this up before he wakes up. You try to move, but the sleeping man has a tight grip on you. In fact, when you try to escape his clutches, he sleepily responds by grinding even deeper into your painfully stretched hole. There's nothing you can do but wait until morning. You're awoken by an enraged Andelaar, who berates you for betraying him. He can't believe that of all the times you would break, you did it when he wasn't there to enjoy it. No matter what you try to say or how sincerely you apologise, he only grows more irate. When he begins rooting around in a nearby drawer, you already know he's looking for something bad. He pulls out several bottles of pills, downs one of them, and then forces you to down another. You gag as the unknown drugs make their way down your throat, and then you immediately begin to feel dizzy. You interrogate the enraged raccoon as to what he's just force-fed you, even as he forces you onto your stomach. "Aphrodisiac and stamina boosters," he tells you. "At least, mine were. You got mind-breaker pills instead." You have only a moment to panic before Andelaar buries his fat, leaking shaft in your guts and begins to jackhammer you senseless. His strength and ferocity are unnatural, and soon you're weeping as he smashes into you with almost pelvis-shattering force. You cum, dozens of times at least, and he breeds you until your mind has shattered from the drugs you swallowed. You're just barely able to perceive threats as he growls them in your ear, making sure that as your mind dissolves into nothingness, you're aware that your fate is sealed. . . . Musk fills your nostrils, but you don't react. The most you can manage nowadays are single words, gasps, moans, and your favourite–drooling everywhere. You are roped to the gargantuan body of a Procyon crime boss, half-hidden beneath his clothes. The only air you breathe nowadays is saturated with his overpowering scent, not that you're cognizant enough to perceive it. After shattering your mind, Andelaar drove you to the city outskirts and dumped you in known gang territory. You were immediately found, used by dozens of gangsters, and then dragged back to their base as a tribute to their boss. Unfortunately, the boss, who is several times larger than a regular Procyon, took a special liking to you and how stretchy you are. He ordered a special harness built so that he could "wear" you beneath his clothing, dooming you to a lifetime as a sleazy gang boss' mobile stress relief. Over time, he becomes known as one of the most feared crime bosses of Procya, easily distinguishable by the outline of a person harnessed to him beneath his clothes. If you look closely, you can even see that poor individual's cum-inflated belly and tell when a fresh load is being pumped into it. Your black box fires. Hopefully, the next iteration of "you" will do a little better than this one. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: ". . ." , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table> (display: "Image : MindBreak")}

This has to be a new low for you... lapping up strangers' cum, in public while people stare at you. The thought dominates your mind, your heart races, and–before you know it–cum is spurting through every opening of your pathetic little cage. Your breath ragged, you look up at your master. Andelaar's eyes meet your own, and he grimaces. A look of abject disgust sits on his face. Without a second thought, he signs you over to the restaurant. You're left pleading and begging for him not to abandon you, but he simply looks at you with utter disgust. Before he leaves, he berates you for ruining "your game". A game? Was that all this was to him...? As you ponder that, you're dragged away by members of the restaurant staff. . . . You struggle and whine as footsteps grow louder. They're accompanied by the sound of viscous fluid sloshing–your next meal. Struggling against your restraints proves useless, just as it has every other day of your weeks-long torture. You are kneeling, chained to the floor. Your hands are bound behind your back. Your muzzle is secured so that it points upwards to the ceiling, and a large funnel pokes from it. There's nothing you can do but whimper and gag as copious quantities of sticky, salty fluid–the cum of various kitchen staff–is poured into the funnel and, by extension, down your throat. Since your unfortunate incident, wherein Andelaar gave you away to the restaurant, they've kept you as a taste tester for their "pet" menu. The name is misleading, however, and you're actually more of a glorified cum disposal. You can't remember the last time your stomach wasn't bloated with the cum of strangers. As the last of the cum is poured down your throat, you hear the worker ahead of you let out a sharp sigh. There's the distinct sound of him jerking off, and soon a few extra dregs of cum are dripping down your throat. This isn't unusual. You're the restaurant's stress relief too. It isn't long before your mind shatters beneath the sensation of being so full, the abuse you receive, and the knowledge that escape is utterly impossible. You become addicted to the taste of semen, and your black box activates when you do. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Gulp... gulp... gulp..." , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table>}

As his steaming hot loads hit your stomach, you just can't help yourself. With each spurt down your throat, you feel your own climax approaching. As he lets out a satisfied sigh above you, cum shoots out from your cage in all directions. "Did you just fucking..." your master's voice booms above you, his rage more than apparent. You have only a moment to whimper and apologise around his cock before he suddenly withdraws it from your throat–and then slams it past your lips again with a cruel amount of force. Even as tears run down your face, he brutally face-fucks you. You're forced to endure half a dozen additional loads, your stomach bloated so full of your master's cum that it visibly bloats. While there's no shortage of your master's cum, he denies you even a single breath of air. Soon, you're beginning to choke, but he continues to wreck your pure throat. Soon, darkness overtakes you. Your last sight is your master's face, contorted into an angry scowl. You fear the worst... . . . You wake up on the side of the road, slowly returning to consciousness as your master's car continues down the road without you. Staggering to your feet, you're immediately aware of other vehicles closing in on you. You turn just in time to see a group of men disembarking and approaching you with malicious intent. A few hours later, you're chained up in some criminal hideout. You gag and whine as strangers fuck your holes, and you quickly realise that there's no chance of escape. Detecting your low, nearing impossible chances of escape, your black box activates. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Beg and whine" , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table>}

As you're used over and over again, you just barely manage to control yourself. At multiple points, just as you teeter on the brink of orgasm, you're able to salvage the situation, albeit barely. It's only when, in the small hours of the morning, a particularly big-dicked individual saunters over. He talks with some of the others who've fucked you, and you're horrified to hear that he was asked to wait until last because of fears that he'd stretch you so wide nobody else would be able to enjoy you afterwards. As he grips your hips and grinds his goliath cock into your hole, you understand that their fears were very, very, very justified. There are tears in your eyes as he builds into a rhythm, smashing into you with what feels like bone-breaking force. You're powerless as he slams through your innards, eventually forcing an orgasm from you with force alone. Your poor insides ache so hard that you can't enjoy the pleasure. As cum audibly splutters to the floor, Andelaar walks over to shake your lover's hand. "Sold," he says, abandoning you to your fate. . . . "P-please..." you whimper out, tears rolling down your cheeks. "N-not so h-hard..." You can barely get the words out. With each thrust from the man atop you, the air is knocked from your lungs. This isn't the first time you've begged him to be more gentle, and you know that it won't be the last. "Shut the fuck up, slut," the man responds, smashing into you even harder than before. It's been weeks, but you still don't know his name. Today, in the last hour alone, they've managed to crush no less than four orgasms from your poor, bruised body. As your insides clench and squirm around your lover's intruding meat, he gloats about how much more of a man than Andelaar he is and how he can't understand why it took him to finally break you. What he fails to realise is that Andelaar was playing a game with you. He could have forced you to cum within the first five minutes of your contract, but he decided to have fun with you. This man has no such qualms, no such understanding. He makes it his mission to obliterate you sexually and milk as many orgasms from you as he can. Within a few weeks, you've utterly broken and turned into a glorified cum dump. You spend your remaining days fucked to a pulp, and when your black box detects this, it broadcasts what little remains of your mind. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Whimper and drool" , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table>}

In between degrading tasks, Andelaar suddenly excuses themselves to take a phone call. As a result, you're afforded a rare opportunity to take in your situation without outside interference. You think back to the humiliating tasks you've had to endure and forward to the possibility of escape. What do you feel? {|EventResult>[] (if: $Procya_EventChoice is "Good")[(replace: ?EventResult)[Despite the undeniable shame in your heart, you force yourself to focus on the future. You refuse to believe that your story will end here as the indentured servant of a pompous Procyon. With quiet self-affirmations, you gain some fresh resolve. <br> You're going to escape! <br> <table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(set: $Procya_CalculatedWillPower to it + 10)- You gain 10 willpower! ($Procya_CalculatedWillPower/100) -</td> </tr> </table> ](display: "Procya - Reveal scenes")] (else-if: $Procya_EventChoice is "Bad")[(replace: ?EventResult)[The shame of all you've done, and all you've been subjected to, are simply too much to bear. Fresh horror stirs within you as you realise these embarrassing events are now an inescapable part of your history. <br> Precum leaks from your cage as you quite literally shake from embarrassment. <br> <table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(set: $Procya_CalculatedWillPower to it - 10)- You lose 10 willpower... ($Procya_CalculatedWillPower/100) -</td> </tr> </table> ](display: "Procya - Reveal scenes")] (else:)[(replace: ?EventResult)[<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link: "Resolve")[(set: $Procya_EventChoice to "Good")(replace: ?EventResult)[Despite the undeniable shame in your heart, you force yourself to focus on the future. You refuse to believe that your story will end here as the indentured servant of a pompous Procyon. With quiet self-affirmations, you gain some fresh resolve. <br> You're going to escape! <br> <table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(set: $Procya_CalculatedWillPower to it + 10)- You gain 10 willpower! ($Procya_CalculatedWillPower/100) -</td> </tr> </table> ](display: "Procya - Reveal scenes")]</td> <td>(link: "Shame")[(set: $Procya_EventChoice to "Bad")(replace: ?EventResult)[The shame of all you've done, and all you've been subjected to, are simply too much to bear. Fresh horror stirs within you as you realise these embarrassing events are now an inescapable part of your history. <br> Precum leaks from your cage as you quite literally shake from embarrassment. <br> <table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(set: $Procya_CalculatedWillPower to it - 10)- You lose 10 willpower... ($Procya_CalculatedWillPower/100) -</td> </tr> </table> ](display: "Procya - Reveal scenes")]</td> </tr> </table>]] }

Satisfied with how much he's managed to embarrass you, Andelaar leaves you for a few moments. You soon hear him taking a call in an adjacent room. You fully intend to wait for your master's return, at least at first... but something catches your eye. There's a bookshelf on the far side of the room, packed with binders labelled "Acquisitions". Curiosity gets the better of you, and you're soon flipping through one of them. You're shocked to find photographs of various off-worlders, seemingly taken by hidden cameras, along with documentation of sizable debts owed by each of them. How does this make you feel? {|EventResult>[] (if: $Procya_EventChoice is "Good")[(replace: ?EventResult)[You don't read another word, having already decided that the people depicted must have escaped. Doubt teases the edges of your mind, but you deny it. <br> They escaped, and so will you. <table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(set: $Procya_CalculatedWillPower to it + 10)- You gain 10 willpower! ($Procya_CalculatedWillPower/100) -</td> </tr> </table> ](display: "Procya - Reveal scenes")] (else-if: $Procya_EventChoice is "Bad")[(replace: ?EventResult)[You're horrified to see how many individuals your master has managed to trick over the years. <br> As you scan the documents, your blood goes cold. At the bottom of each document are details of a sale–the sale of the individual. <br> Each suffered a horrendous, humiliating fate. Will this happen to you as well? <table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(set: $Procya_CalculatedWillPower to it - 10)- You lose 10 willpower... ($Procya_CalculatedWillPower/100) -</td> </tr> </table> ](display: "Procya - Reveal scenes")] (else:)[(replace: ?EventResult)[<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link: "Hopeful")[(set: $Procya_EventChoice to "Good")(replace: ?EventResult)[You don't read another word, having already decided that the people depicted must have escaped. Doubt teases the edges of your mind, but you deny it. <br> They escaped, and so will you. <table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(set: $Procya_CalculatedWillPower to it + 10)- You gain 10 willpower! ($Procya_CalculatedWillPower/100) -</td> </tr> </table> ](display: "Procya - Reveal scenes")]</td> <td>(link: "Horrified")[(set: $Procya_EventChoice to "Bad")(replace: ?EventResult)[You're horrified to see how many individuals your master has managed to trick over the years. <br> As you scan the documents, your blood goes cold. At the bottom of each document are details of a sale–the sale of the individual. <br> Each suffered a horrendous, humiliating fate. Will this happen to you as well? <table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(set: $Procya_CalculatedWillPower to it - 10)- You lose 10 willpower... ($Procya_CalculatedWillPower/100) -</td> </tr> </table> ](display: "Procya - Reveal scenes")]</td> </tr> </table>]] }

Suddenly, Andelaar asks you to accompany him to his home gym. You follow close behind and soon find yourself in an expansive room full of weights and other exercise equipment. Much to your embarrassment, he immediately undresses in front of you. How do you respond? {|EventResult>[] (if: $Procya_EventChoice is "Good")[(replace: ?EventResult)[You avert your eyes from the toned raccoon's body as he throws his clothing aside, dresses in workout equipment, and then begins his workout. <br> You're able to retain your dignity, although your master seems unimpressed when he realises you weren't ogling him as he worked out. <table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(set: $Procya_CalculatedWillPower to it + 10)- You gain 10 willpower! ($Procya_CalculatedWillPower/100) -</td> </tr> </table> ](display: "Procya - Reveal scenes")] (else-if: $Procya_EventChoice is "Bad")[(replace: ?EventResult)[You allow yourself to openly stare at your master's toned body. You can tell just from looking at him that he maintains a rigorous routine and diet. <br> He begins his workout, moving from machine to machine with a disciplined pace. His fur is soon damp with sweat. As you watch him, you can't help but imagine his muscular body pressed against your own, using his physicality to conquer you. <br> Your master finishes his workout by throwing his sweaty clothes in your face, saturating your nostrils with his musk. Your cage visibly leaks, although you try to hide it. <table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(set: $Procya_CalculatedWillPower to it - 10)- You lose 10 willpower... ($Procya_CalculatedWillPower/100) -</td> </tr> </table> ](display: "Procya - Reveal scenes")] (else:)[(replace: ?EventResult)[<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link: "Look away")[(set: $Procya_EventChoice to "Good")(replace: ?EventResult)[You avert your eyes from the toned raccoon's body as he throws his clothing aside, dresses in workout equipment, and then begins his workout. <br> You're able to retain your dignity, although your master seems unimpressed when he realises you weren't ogling him as he worked out. <table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(set: $Procya_CalculatedWillPower to it + 10)- You gain 10 willpower! ($Procya_CalculatedWillPower/100) -</td> </tr> </table> ](display: "Procya - Reveal scenes")]</td> <td>(link: "Stare")[(set: $Procya_EventChoice to "Bad")(replace: ?EventResult)[You allow yourself to openly stare at your master's toned body. You can tell just from looking at him that he maintains a rigorous routine and diet. <br> He begins his workout, moving from machine to machine with a disciplined pace. His fur is soon damp with sweat. As you watch him, you can't help but imagine his muscular body pressed against your own, using his physicality to conquer you. <br> Your master finishes his workout by throwing his sweaty clothes in your face, saturating your nostrils with his musk. Your cage visibly leaks, although you try to hide it. <table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(set: $Procya_CalculatedWillPower to it - 10)- You lose 10 willpower... ($Procya_CalculatedWillPower/100) -</td> </tr> </table> ](display: "Procya - Reveal scenes")]</td> </tr> </table>]]}

{ --- (if: $Procya_EventRNG is 1)[(display:"Event - Moment of peace")] (else-if: $Procya_EventRNG is 2)[(display:"Event - Documents")] (else:)[(display:"Event - Workout")]}

{(set: $Procya_CalculatedWillPower to $Procya_WillPower) (set: $Procya_CalculatedDebt to $Procya_Debt) (display: "Morning events") |RNGEvent>[] |AfternoonEvent>[] |RNGEvent2>[] |EveningEvent>[] |DayEnd>[] (if: $Procya_EarlyDayEvent is true and $Procya_CalculatedWillPower > 0)[(replace: ?RNGEvent)[(display: "Procya Events")]] (if: $Procya_EarlyDayEvent is false and $Procya_CalculatedWillPower > 0)[(replace: ?AfternoonEvent)[(display: "Afternoon events")]] (if: $Procya_LateDayEvent is true and $Procya_CalculatedWillPower > 0)[(replace: ?RNGEvent2)[(display: "Procya Events")]] (if: $Procya_EarlyDayEvent is false and $Procya_LateDayEvent is false and $Procya_CalculatedWillPower > 0)[(replace: ?EveningEvent)[(display: "Evening events")]] (if: $Procya_ContentRevealed is true and $Procya_CalculatedWillPower > 0)[(replace: ?DayEnd)[(display: "Procya end of day")]]}

{(if: $Procya_WillPower > 0)[ --- (if: $Procya_AfternoonRNG is 1)[(display:"Afternoon - Yacht")] (else-if: $Procya_AfternoonRNG is 2)[(display:"Afternoon - Maid")] (else-if: $Procya_AfternoonRNG is 3)[(display:"Afternoon - Mile high club")] (else-if: $Procya_AfternoonRNG is 4)[(display:"Afternoon - Business meeting")] (else-if: $Procya_AfternoonRNG is 5)[(display:"Afternoon - Shopping")] (else-if: $Procya_AfternoonRNG is 6)[(display:"Afternoon - Betting")]]}

{(if: $Procya_WillPower > 0)[ --- (if: $Procya_EveningRNG is 1)[(display:"Evening - Oral")] (else-if: $Procya_EveningRNG is 2)[(display:"Evening - Anal")] (else-if: $Procya_EveningRNG is 3)[(display:"Evening - Luxurious bath")] (else-if: $Procya_EveningRNG is 4)[(display:"Evening - Hunt")] (else-if: $Procya_EveningRNG is 5)[(display:"Evening - Fancy dinner")] (else-if: $Procya_EveningRNG is 6)[(display:"Evening - Mask party")]]}

{(if: $Procya_MorningRNG is 1)[(display:"Morning - Shower")] (else-if: $Procya_MorningRNG is 2)[(display:"Morning - Oral")] (else-if: $Procya_MorningRNG is 3)[(display:"Morning - Anal")] (else-if: $Procya_MorningRNG is 4)[(display:"Morning - Breakfast")] (else-if: $Procya_MorningRNG is 5)[(display:"Morning - Walkies")] (else-if: $Procya_MorningRNG is 6)[(display:"Morning - Golf")]}

{(if: $Procya_CalculatedWillPower > 0)[ --- <table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(if: $Procya_CalculatedDebt < 15000)[ (link: "Start day $Procya_DayCounter")[(set: $Procya_WillPower to $Procya_CalculatedWillPower)(set: $Procya_Debt to $Procya_CalculatedDebt)(goto:"Procya - Day RNG")] ](else:)[ [[Escape!->Procya escape!]] ]</td> </tr> </table>]}

{(if: $Procya_CalculatedWillPower > 100)[(set: $Procya_CalculatedWillPower to 100)] (else-if: $Procya_CalculatedWillPower < 1)[(set: $Procya_CalculatedWillPower to 1)] (if: $Procya_EarlyDayEvent is true)[ (replace: ?AfternoonEvent)(display: "Afternoon events") (replace: ?EveningEvent)(display: "Evening events")] (else-if: $Procya_LateDayEvent is true)[ (replace: ?EveningEvent)(display: "Evening events")] (set: $Procya_ContentRevealed to true)(replace: ?DayEnd)[(display: "Procya end of day")] }

{(set: $Procya_LostWillPower to $Procya_Morning_LostWillPower) (set: $Procya_SettledDebt to $Procya_Morning_SettledDebt) }You're roused from your slumber to the heat of the sun and the cool sensation of wind ruffling your fur. You groggily blink awake, discovering that Andelaar is carrying you. Panic overtakes you for a few moments as you realise you're already outside. "Finally awake, slut?" your master asks, tossing you haphazardly into the cabin of a waiting transport ship. "W-where-?" you blurt out, only to be immediately shushed by your master. He boards, and the doors hiss closed behind him. When they open again, you find that he's brought you to a golf course. Immediately, your cheeks are flushed red with embarrassment–The space is so open that your naked body can be seen from an absurd distance in every direction. What's worse, a few of the other golfers are carrying binoculars, which they quickly use to scan your naked form from afar. As the transport ship takes off from the green, you're left with nothing to do but follow your master. With little fanfare, he throws you his clubs and commands you to haul them for him. You do your best, following him around the course. Unfortunately, it seems like he's off his game. With each swing, he seems to grow less accurate and more irritable. Finally, after almost an hour without any progress, he throws his nine iron aside and turns towards you with furious intent. Suddenly, you're pushed to the ground. Your ass is hoisted up, and, to your horror, the cold, spherical exterior of a golf ball is suddenly being forced against your hole. You try to clench, to deny the inevitable, but your master simply overpowers you. With increasing roughness, he forces the sphere past your ring. The pain is immediate, and you find your muscles betraying you as the golf ball is suddenly sucked into your insides. As you gasp and cry out, Andelaar hoists you to your feet. He commands you to walk–to squat over the hole in the distance–and you get him a hole-in-one. You whimper, with soft tears in your eyes, and begin to walk. Every step jostles the solid sphere stretching your insides, pressing and rubbing against your prostate as you walk. Even through the pain, the sensations are intense enough to coax a sudden, near-constant stream of precum from between the bars of your cage. (if: $Procya_CalculatedWillPower - $Procya_LostWillPower <= 0)[(set: $Procya_CalculatedWillPower to 0)(display: "Morning - Golf bad end")]{ }(else:)[You barely make it to the hole without climaxing but find that the humiliation is only just beginning. You do as you were instructed, squatting over the hole and trying fruitlessly to relax your insides. As you do, you become acutely aware of how many people are watching. Binoculars are focused on you from every direction, and you find yourself tensing up the more you try to relax. Your heart races, and you begin to feel dizzy. Overwhelming shame spirals through your every thought. You can't do this... there's no way... you're going to... //Plop!// You lurch forward, gripping your lower stomach. The sensation of the large, solid sphere stretching out your insides has now disappeared. When you look back, you find that the ball is now sitting perfectly in the hole. You pant and gasp, mortified at what you'd just done. Andelaar just walks over to you, ruffles your hair and tells you it's time to go home. {(display: "Procya - Scene result")}]

As you waddle towards the hole with a golf ball stuffed up your ass, you're embarrassed for a considerable number of reasons. Unfortunately, the worst one yet is just emerging. Much to your horror, you find that the stimulation of the large sphere grinding into your prostate as you walk, combined with the knowledge that dozens of people are watching your predicament, sends you hurtling towards climax. The sensations prove too much, even as you desperately try to endure them. You collapse to your knees, moaning whorishly, and gasp as an unusually potent orgasm tears through you. You're unsure if it's the intense pressure being put on your prostate or if you've just developed an exhibitionist fetish, but you send a small waterfall of semen spurting through the bars of your pathetic little cage. By the time Andelaar approaches you, shaking his head and feigning disappointment, he's already flanked by your new owners. You are told, as casually as ever, that you've been sold to the golf club. . . . You whimper and whine as a stranger pushes his arm into your exposed ass, only stopping when he's able to grab something solid and spherical. With an embarrassingly loud "Pop!" he finally manages to retrieve one of his golf balls. Since you were sold, the golf club has kept you as an obscene kind of portable storage. You spend your days bound to the side of a golf cart, being used to carry everything from balls, to clubs, to the cum of anyone who feels like fucking you. Despite the constant humiliation, you never quite break, even though you really wish that you would. Instead, you remain cognizant enough to spend the rest of your days feeling utter, unrelenting shame. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Pray for a Mulligan" , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table>}

{(set: $Procya_LostWillPower to $Procya_Afternoon_LostWillPower) (set: $Procya_SettledDebt to $Procya_Afternoon_SettledDebt) }In the afternoon, Andelaar leads you to a waiting transport ship outside. As you approach, you become aware that it's far bulkier than a terrestrial craft. In fact, this looks capable of space flight! You board it, all kinds of ideas racing through your head. Could this be your chance to escape? Plans repeatedly form and change as the craft ferries you both above the clouds. The first indication that you're entering orbit is when the weight of gravity begins to dissipate. You look worriedly at your master–Isn't the gravity regulator working? You find him stretching, his feet no longer touching the ground. When he sees how concerned you look, he decides to explain what he's up to. "Oh, calm down, slut." he says, flashing you a smile. "I strained my back earlier. Just thought it'd be easier to fuck you if you weighed less." You try not to take that as an insult, but you don't have long to consider it. With practised skill, he leaps at you from the other side of the shuttle, spinning and posing you with ease. There's redness in your cheeks as you realise he's brought you into low orbit simply so that he'll have an easier time throwing you around. He takes you from behind, gripping your waspish hips and promptly smashing into you until both tears and precum ebb and float out in front of you. You gasp and moan, constantly kept off-balance by the much larger, stronger man. With terrifying precision, he hammers away at your prostate, flips you into a new position, and continues the brutal assault on your ass. (if: $Procya_CalculatedWillPower - $Procya_LostWillPower <= 0)[(set: $Procya_CalculatedWillPower to 0)(display: "Morning - Milehigh bad end")]{ }(else:)[Only through sheer force of will do you avoid orgasm, albeit barely. By the time he finally withdraws from your well-loved insides, he's pumped no less than half a dozen loads inside you. You gasp and whine, horrified when he instructs you to gulp down the rivulets of fluid that now hover around the cabin. When you hesitate, he simply forces you instead. Over an hour later, the orbital ship touches down outside his home again. You stumble from inside, dizzy from the restored gravity, your fur and insides sticky with your master's cum. Much to your horror, you find him eyeing you up again... {(display: "Procya - Scene result")}]

It's all too much, and soon you're spraying ropes of cum out of your cage. The evidence is unavoidable, the zero-gravity environment causing you to produce one of the biggest, messiest orgasms of your life. You whine and weep softly as you realise your contract is now sealed. To add insult to injury, your master immediately forces you to drink down all the cum you've shot across the cabin. You're made to lick, swallow and gulp it all down until no evidence of your utter failure remains. Soon, the ship lands. The door swings open, and Andelaar shoves you out. You fall, letting out a horrified gasp, and land in the arms of your new owner. "Enjoy. Don't be gentle." Andelaar says, moments before the door to his ship reseals, and your master abandons you to an awful fate. . . . You pause, hand hovering over the console in front of you. You were doing something, something important... communications... communi-... no, you've forgotten. Well, if you've forgotten, it can't have been that important! You turn and exit the room, your unusually wide hips brushing either side of the door frame. You are immediately met by your owner, who chastises you for entering a room designed for "real people". "L-like, gosh! I'm so sorry, sir!" you blurt out, entirely on reflex. There isn't a thought behind it. After you were bought, your new owner immediately began gene-modding you to better suit their likes. As it would turn out, they have a massive preference for fat-assed, empty-headed bimbos. The changes came slowly at first—The plumpening of your lips, barely noticeable softness, the entirely missable weakening of your physique... but as the weeks turned into months, those little changes began to coalesce. Your already effeminate body became an exaggerated, overly-pronounced collection of all of the traits your new master lusts over. In addition to the physical changes, your mind has also begun to change. Your master didn't want a space cadet; he wanted an empty-headed, sex-obsessed moron, and after so many weeks of having your IQ reduced, you're not too far off. Incidents like today, wherein you tried and failed to send a distress signal, are growing less frequent. You're not even sure you remember what a "communication" //is// anymore. With a single word from your master, you drop to your knees. You gag softly as he pushes his cock past your plump, pillowy lips. Your heart races and your head feels even emptier than usual. Now you can't remember why you'd want to escape in the first place... Your black box activates. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Clean up your mess" , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table>}

{(set: $Procya_LostWillPower to $Procya_Evening_LostWillPower) (set: $Procya_SettledDebt to $Procya_Evening_SettledDebt) }As the sun sets, Andelaar leads you to a waiting transport ship. It's embarrassing, as expected, but for some reason, you're filled with immense dread as well. Andelaar says nothing, instead loading some supplies. When you try to get a closer look, he immediately commands you to board the ship and stay put. The journey is uncomfortable, especially when the racoon begins leering at you. He has something planned... something awful... you just don't know what it is yet. This is revealed to be correct when the ship lands, the doors open, and Andelaar simply motions for you to hop out. You do, finding yourself in a dense forest. When you turn back to your master, you're horrified to find him holding a rifle. "W-what are you-?" you shakily ask. "Tranqs." he casually responds, as if that explains anything at all. "Make it to the edge of my land, and you can leave. Contract closed. No questions asked. You have a 10-minute head-start." You hesitate only for a moment before breaking into a sprint. Your cadet training, even if you were never the best soldier, begins to kick in. Even if it's a trick, you need to capitalise on this opportunity! As you push into the foliage, you hear your master chuckling behind you. There's a quiet beep, the whirring of rotors, and other undeniable sounds of technology being deployed to assist in tracking you down. Your imagination races, from thoughts of satellite imaging, to drones, to motion detectors built into the environment. Still, you manage to avoid your master's unfair advantages for far longer than you would have imagined. Occasionally, a dart zips past you, and you try to position yourself so that any follow-ups with strike trees at your back. Unfortunately, your good fortune doesn't last forever. As you scramble over a particularly large fallen log, you feel a sharp pain in your rear. You reach back, pulling a tranquiliser from your rump, only for several more to replace it. Try as you might; the strength immediately drains from your body. You fall forward over the tree trunk, aware for the last few moments before unconsciousness that someone has taken ahold of your hips. (if: $Procya_CalculatedWillPower - $Procya_LostWillPower <= 0)[(set: $Procya_CalculatedWillPower to 0)(display: "Evening - Hunt bad end")]{ }(else:)[. . . You awaken as you're being hoisted back into the transport ship. You failed. Your ass is fucked raw and leaking your master's seed. The tinges of the coming dawn are visible on the horizon, indicating that he must have had his way with you for several hours, at least. Exhausted, sore and defeated, you lose consciousness again. {(display: "Procya - Scene result")}]

. . . You awaken an unknown period of time later. The orange glow of the rising sun is creeping above the horizon. Every inch of you is agony, but none more than your poor insides. It feels like your poor prostate has been utterly tenderised. You rub and squeeze at yourself, trying to reject the worst of the discomfort... and then you feel it. Wetness covers your front. Your fur is saturated with the cum from an orgasm you don't remember. It doesn't matter, however–Your contract is sealed. Your master knows this, obviously. He's boarding his transport ship, turning back to you with a disgusted impression on his face. You whimper as Andelaar's ship takes off, abandoning you to your fate. . . . You follow the much faster man ahead of you as he sprints through the underbrush, deftly avoiding twigs and branches, but find yourself lagging behind before too long. Whirring overhead marks the path of a drone, and you adjust your course. You're not as fast as many of the other "Prey", but you've demonstrated a surprising tactical aptitude. After you were left behind, you were immediately found and captured by the owners of the land that Andelaar hunted you on. They themselves run a recreational hunting society, wherein indentured servants and slaves with forfeit sentience are hunted for sport. Today, however, you've made a horrible mistake. The drone you dodged was sent just to spook you, and you soon find yourself surrounded by hunters and their guns. Darts whistle through the air. You fall. Your consciousness waxes and wanes as the men set about your limp body, grinding their cocks past your lips and up your exposed ass. Your cage jingles uselessly–Andelaar never left the key behind. You spend the rest of your life being released, hunted down, fucked insensate by complete strangers, and then nursed back to health for the next day's clients. Unbeknownst to you, a forcefield surrounds the edges of the hunting grounds... not that you'll ever reach it. Your black box activates. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Keep running" , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table>}

You're sitting in an oversized shack constructed out of thatch, leaves and driftwood. The quality isn't fantastic, but it has a lot of charm. Around the room, there are various arrangements of metal and scrap stacked in a way that vaguely resembles furniture. There's even a box-shaped object with a glass panel affixed to the front, perhaps intended to resemble a computer or television. Lakó watches you excitedly as you scan the room, seemingly very proud of all the things he's made. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Ask about him->Lakó - Him]]</td> <td>[[Ask about the island->Lakó - Island]]</td> <td>(if: $OrcaIsland_KnowAboutObsession is true)[[[Land dwellers?->Lakó - Land Dwellers]]](else:)[(? ? ?)]</td> </tr> <tr> <td>(if: $OrcaIsland_KnowAboutFetish is true)[[[Touch him->Lakó - Touch]]](else:)[(? ? ?)]</td> <td>(if: $OrcaIsland_FamiliarityLevel >= 2)[[[Oral->Lakó - Suck]]](else:)[(? ? ?)]</td> <td>(if: $OrcaIsland_FamiliarityLevel is 3)[[[Anal->Lakó - Sex]]](else:)[(? ? ?)]</td> </tr> <tr> <td></td> <td>[[Leave->Orca Island - Leave]]</td> <td></td> </tr> </table>}

Curious about the orca man's history, you ask Lakó to tell you about himself. He seems more than happy to tell you his story. "Well, I'm an Orcidian, as you've probably noticed. I grew up in the remnants of one of the old cities," he says, a small smile growing on his face as if he's recalling fond memories. "I spend most of my time fishing and salvaging things from the old world!" he tells you with pride, although you're unsure if he's more proud of his fishing skills or salvaging prowess. "I even trade some of the salvage I find with land dwellers! They pay me with all kinds of tasty land dweller foods!" You can't help but think he's being ripped off, but his joy as he describes the deal makes you hold your tongue. "One day, I want to ask some of the land dwellers to take me along with them," he says. "I can't live away from water for very long, but I want to explore the entire planet." It's an innocent dream, one that you immediately find yourself rooting for. "What about space?" you find yourself asking, only for Lakó to respond with a vacant, mildly confused stare. "Space?" he asks, with genuine confusion. "Y'know... other planets?" you ask, incredulous. "Oh! I'd be more than happy to just explore above the waves. Like where you come from!" he says with a smile. "A-actually..." you begin. "I'm not from Luna..." He's starry-eyed as you explain you're from an entirely different planet and that there are dozens of nearby worlds with life on them. He asks you questions for the next hour or so, all so basic that they're beyond endearing. His final question hits a little hard, however. "Can I come with you?" he suddenly asks, still consumed with childlike wonder. "On your spaceship, I mean." You genuinely consider it before realising that he's far too big to fit onboard your meagre vessel. You tell him this, much to his sadness, but find yourself blurting out a promise that, should you ever own a much bigger ship, you'll invite him along on your adventures. His sadness immediately subsides, and he pulls you into a gigantic, almost bone-breaking hug. It would seem you've made the aquatic explorer's day. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Ask about something else" , "Orca Island")</td> </tr> </table>}

You ask Lakó how he came to settle on the island. He's overjoyed by your question, immediately radiating pride. "It was a happy accident!" he beams at you. "I was fishing during a storm and lost my way, ended up swimming to shore by mistake. I was scared at first... but soon found that the island was completely uninhabited. Since nobody was opposed to it, I decided to build a little hut here. Even started growing some fruit that I found on neighbouring islands!" "Very impressive!" you tell him, much to his delight. Although his shelter is rudimentary at best, you can imagine it must have been quite a feat for someone completely new to building on land. "Truthfully, I just wanted somewhere above the waves where I could explore and somewhere that I could bring a land-dwelling friend when I made one..." He says that last part while blushing, and you're soon red-faced as well. You compliment his island and what's built, and he's left with a tremendous smile on his face. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Ask about something else" , "Orca Island")</td> </tr> </table> (set: $OrcaIsland_KnowAboutObsession to true)}

Consumed by curiosity, you ask Lakó if he'd allow you to examine his body. He's the first Orcidian you've met, and you'd like to become a bit more familiar with him. Immediately, his face flushes a dark shade of red. His embarrassment is obvious, although he soon regains his composure. "S-sure..." he says. "As long as I can examine you as well..." You agree. Excited and eager to explore the massive man's body. Without another word, you climb into the orca man's lap and scale his pudgy front. You begin your exploration by stroking his cheeks and rubbing his snout. Much to your delight, he lets out a small, satisfied whistle. This seems to have been involuntary, as the flesh beneath your fingers is instantly tinged scarlet. You move downwards, finding that his pecs are fatty and soft but with obvious muscle beneath them. When you squeeze at them, Lakó lets out a series of sharp gasps. They're sensitive, and you make a note of that. Beneath that is his stomach. It's a rounded, wobbling middle that contributes greatly to his muscle-gut physique. The size of his gut makes sense, you think to yourself. It's only right for such a huge, strong man to have an appropriately-sized engine! Moving lower still, you find yourself crouching between his legs. His manhood sits in front of you, imposing in its size. His balls are utterly gigantic, each the size of your head. They're heavy to the point that you struggle to heft them, even with both hands, and when you do, they audibly slosh as you examine them. His cock is equally impressive–thick and throbbing almost constantly. You're sure that your intimate exploration of his body has something to do with that. Beneath your rubbing and teasing, his cock is soon hardening to full mast. It's fatty and ridiculously thick, albeit a little shorter than you expected. Still, it's about the length of your forearm. You find yourself swallowing down drool as it begins to flood your mouth. "S-so... what do you think?" Lakó suddenly asks, staring down at you with a mixture of arousal and worry. "Y-you're incredible..." you blurt out, continuing to rub your hands across his body as you reply. "So huge, so imposing... soft but powerful... big." He smiles down at you as you trail off, your thoughts jumbled by the huge man ahead of you and his still-throbbing manhood. Having finished your exploration of the much larger man's body, you uphold your end of the bargain. With some anxiety, you take off your jumpsuit and allow him to explore you. Immediately, he's surprised by how little you are. You find yourself red-faced as he uses words like "delicate", "unimposing", and "tiny" to describe you and parts of your anatomy. He picks you up with one hand and seems amazed at how little effort it took. He traces his fingers down your front. His movements are rough and haphazard, although that's simply because of the size disparity between you both. You get the feeling he's actually trying to be incredibly gentle. You're just so small that it's difficult for him to regulate his strength. When his exploration reaches your waist, he looks to you for approval. You nod, and he continues. He presses a finger to your sheath, watching in amazement as your cock grows to attention. You wince, hoping he doesn't call it "cute" or something to that effect. Instead, he seems enamoured with your knot. He examines it for quite a while, even giving it a few gentle squeezes. You moan involuntarily, much to his delight. He moves on to your thighs and plump derriere, excited to find that he can be a little rougher with you in these especially padded areas. He's delighted by how much your ass cheeks jiggle beneath his touch. Finally, he steps back. He's red-faced and smiling, unable to pull his eyes from your naked body for a few extra moments. "Well? What do you think?" you ask, echoing his question from earlier. "You're cute! So small and skinny, but somehow still soft!" he declares. "Are all of your kind like this?" "A-actually..." you begin. "Most of my kind are bigger than me. Stronger too." "Ah, that's a shame..." he says, seemingly a little saddened by your response. "You're very cute! Almost like a pet!" If that was intended as a compliment, it didn't quite land as one. Instead, you're left red-faced and speechless, wondering if this giant man has any new plans to make you his pet. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Reclothe yourself" , "Orca Island")</td> </tr> </table> (if: $OrcaIsland_FamiliarityLevel is 1)[(set: $OrcaIsland_FamiliarityLevel to it + 1)]}

You can't deny your attraction to Lakó and his oversized assets, so you muster the courage and ask him if he'd like to fool around. He gives you a quizzical look, asking what you mean. You respond by simply getting down on your knees, your face only a few inches from his thick cock, and licking your lips. When you look up at the orca man, the redness in his cheeks betrays his new understanding. Too embarrassed to speak, he simply nods. You lean in, hefting his heavy balls. They audibly slosh in your hands, and you find yourself fantasising about how much seed he's going to pump down your willing throat. His sock throbs slightly, growing before your eyes. You're drawn to it as it does, rubbing and pumping at it, amazed at how thick it is. When he reaches full mast and begins to leak precum, you soon find yourself pressing your lips to his slit. The voluminous, salty liquid floods your mouth, and you immediately begin gulping it down. You lap at his tip, running your tongue under his foreskin. His masculine taste is irresistible, and soon you're shamelessly, messily kissing at his girthy cock head. He responds with a sudden, no doubt involuntary thrust. The tip of his cock pushes past your lips and is more than enough to fill your entire mouth and bulge out your cheeks as well. He tenses up as he enjoys the warmth of your mouth. His breathing becomes increasingly unsteady, and you wince as he slowly begins to lose control. Wet slaps ring out as he builds into a desperate rhythm, soon humping your face in earnest. You're relieved to find that his cock is too thick to enter your throat, unsure if you'd manage it without incurring genuine injury. Your constant gagging and spluttering are drowned out by the insatiable orca's moans and the loud, wet slapping as he pleasures himself with your muzzle. It isn't long before he's approaching climax. You can tell from the way his thrusts have grown more wild and uncoordinated and by how his cock is leaking like a faucet. Any care for your well-being has fallen beneath the lust that now consumes him. When he cums, the volume of his load is utterly ridiculous, easily bulging your throat as litre after litre pumps down it. Your stomach bloats, rounds and sloshes until it feels like you might burst. Tears well up in your eyes, and, much to your embarrassment, you blow a load of your own inside your jumpsuit. You think for a moment that you might drown in his seed, but luckily, soon satisfied, Lakó realises that he lost control. He pulls from your mouth, drenching you with a few additional ropes of warm, sticky cum, and begins to apologise profusely. You're so full of his cum that you can barely think, gurgling, moaning and coughing up his cum. All you can do is brace yourself against the much larger man's body until you regain your senses... --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Wipe your chin" , "Orca Island")</td> </tr> </table> (if: $OrcaIsland_FamiliarityLevel is 2)[(set: $OrcaIsland_FamiliarityLevel to it + 1)]}

Having become more familiar with the massive orca, you ask Lakó if he'd like to try mating with you for real. You feel warmth in your cheeks as you ask him, realising exactly what you're getting yourself into. He immediately agrees, although he is far too embarrassed to look you in the eye when he does. You pull off your jumpsuit and toss it aside, finding that by the time you turn back towards your lover, he's already fully erect and leaking. You use his copious precum to lube up his cock, grinning as he gasps and moans at your touch, and then you climb into his lap. Before you begin, you take a moment to remind the much larger man how much smaller than him you are, and he'll have to be gentle. He promises, telling you that he'll do his very best. You rock forward, pressing yourself against his soft stomach, using his padded middle to brace yourself as you lower down on his cock. He feels even larger than he looks. His cock is so thick that even taking the head leaves you wincing and out of breath. Your insides spasm uncomfortably around the first few inches, even despite your best efforts to relax. Lakó is visibly worried for you but too aroused to stop your slow descent. He moans almost constantly, and you can feel him throbbing inside you, his precum alone enough to begin bloating your belly. You continue downwards, inch by inch, taking more and more of him into you. Soon, your stomach begins to round and bulge. Your lover watches, awestruck, as the silhouette of his cock becomes visible in your middle. When you finally reach the base, your entire body feels weak. It's taking all of your control just to endure his gigantic cock buried inside you. You're leaking precum across his lower stomach in quantities you thought yourself incapable of producing. Your breath unsteady but far too aroused to turn back, you beg the orca to use you. He doesn't need any convincing. He wraps his hands around your middle, large enough to clasp his fingers together while holding you. With only a small hint of apprehension, he begins to lift and lower you onto his cock, turning you into a kind of glorified fleshlight. You both let out rapturous, overwhelmed moans, unable to believe the size, and tightness, of each other's bodies. His rhythm, if one exists, is completely erratic. He frequently tenses up, lets out a sharp gasp, and changes his pace. At regular intervals, he catches himself being too rough with you, eases up a little, and then becomes so overwhelmed with lust that he does it all over again. Before long, he's whimpering down at you, telling you that he's close. You are too. You beg him to blow his load directly into your stomach, and he's all too happy to oblige. When his orgasm hits, you're taken completely off guard by how much seed he's suddenly pumping into you. What feels like litres of almost painfully hot fluid jets into your rounding belly. You watch, drooling and beyond aroused, as the bulging silhouette of his cock throbs and pulses beneath your skin, bloating your stomach with seed until it soon becomes obscured beneath the rounded circumference of your now pregnant-looking belly. As he throbs inside you, the rhythmic tensing of his cock pounds away at your insides, and soon you're spraying a load of your own, albeit a far less impressive one, across his belly and lower chest. Exhausted, you fall against his soft body, and the two of you breathlessly thank each other for the experience. . . . Sometime later, you muster your strength and pull off of Lakó's fat cock, only for the orca to begin expressing shock and worry. He presses a giant hand to your cum-inflated stomach, hurrying out a messy, half-understandable apology. "I didn't know that boy land dwellers could get pregnant!" he blurts out, desperately looking for your forgiveness. You sigh, calmly explaining that you're full of his cum, not pregnant. He's a lot bigger than you, after all... He's beyond relieved to hear that, although you're left red-faced by the orca's misunderstanding. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Tidy up" , "Orca Island")</td> </tr> </table>}

Having realised that Lakó has a strange interest in land dwellers, you decide to ask him about it. "W-well..." he begins, increasingly red-faced. "I grew up in ruins of the old world, down among the scraps of old sunken treasures. The more I learned about the world above the waves, the more my curiosity grew." "Do others share your curiosity?" you ask, although, from the orca's lonesome appearance, you think you already know the answer. "No..." he says. You expected that. "Even among us Orcidian, who regularly come up for air, there is no interest in the world beyond the sea. Many of us simply wish to return to our old undersea cities, like the ones from before the shattering of Vizatya." As he says that name, he brings his hands together to form a sphere. There is a quiet and very brief pause as he does. "Vizatya?" you ask, and Lakó immediately rushes to push your hands into the same shape as the one he did moments before. "The sea folk name for the moon that disappeared. We say the name only sparingly..." he tells you, only releasing your hands when you promise to be respectful. You decide to change the subject, not wanting to step on his toes. "It's a shame that so few share your curiosity. I wonder what the difference is between you and the others of your kind..." you wonder aloud. "W-well... there is one other thing..." he says, trailing off, his face growing redder by the second. "I must admit... I find land-dwellers... attractive." There's silence for a few moments, and he hurriedly rushes to fill it. "I-in my culture, there is a popular story passed down from parent to child. It tells of a sea folk and land dweller who met and fell in love. This was forbidden, of course, and they snuck away from their respective duties to live along the coast–A compromise between their cultures... for love." as he tells you this, he is oddly emotional. "I have always... wondered if a similar fate could befall me, were I to find the right person..." You are both left red-faced. The topic is dropped for no reason other than your shared embarrassment. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Ask about something else" , "Orca Island")</td> </tr> </table> (set: $OrcaIsland_KnowAboutFetish to true)}

You tell the oversized orca man that you really must be going. He's understanding, if a little let down. He escorts you to your submersible, gives you a giant, almost bone-breaking hug before allowing you to climb back inside, and then pushes you out of the shallows. He waves from the shoreline as you submerge, bidding you luck in your travels. Soon, your ship is touching down in Dal. . . . (display: "Luna")

You decide to visit Lakó's island. His island is too small for you to make a landing, and you're worried that the wind generated by your ship's engines may damage some of his things. Instead, you bring your ship just over the ocean's surface, some distance from his abode, and use your submersible to make the rest of the journey. As you beach yourself on the shore of his island, Lakó greets you. He's overjoyed that you've come to visit him again and hurriedly welcomes you inside his home. . . . (display: "Orca Island")

(set: $Procya_DayCounter to it + 1) (set: $Procya_CalculatedWillPower to $Procya_WillPower) (set: $Procya_CalculatedDebt to $Procya_Debt) (set: $Procya_EarlyDayEvent to false) (set: $Procya_LateDayEvent to false) (set: $Procya_EventChoice to "") (set: $Procya_MorningRNG to (random: 1,6)) (set: $Procya_Morning_LostWillPower to $Procya_MorningRNG + 1 + (random: $Procya_MorningRNG * -1 , $Procya_MorningRNG)) (set: $Procya_Morning_SettledDebt to $Procya_MorningRNG * 200 + (random: $Procya_MorningRNG * -50 , $Procya_MorningRNG * 25)) (set: $Procya_AfternoonRNG to (random: 1,6)) (set: $Procya_Afternoon_LostWillPower to $Procya_AfternoonRNG + 1 + (random: -$Procya_AfternoonRNG , $Procya_AfternoonRNG)) (set: $Procya_Afternoon_SettledDebt to $Procya_AfternoonRNG * 200 + (random: $Procya_AfternoonRNG * -50 , $Procya_AfternoonRNG * 25)) (set: $Procya_EveningRNG to (random: 1,6)) (set: $Procya_Evening_LostWillPower to $Procya_EveningRNG + 1 + (random: -$Procya_EveningRNG , $Procya_EveningRNG)) (set: $Procya_Evening_SettledDebt to $Procya_EveningRNG * 200 + (random: $Procya_EveningRNG * -50 , $Procya_EveningRNG * 25)) (set: $Procya_ContentRevealed to false) (if: $Procya_LastEventDay is not $Procya_DayCounter and (random:1,5) is 1)[(set: $Procya_EarlyDayEvent to true)] (else-if: $Procya_LastEventDay is not $Procya_DayCounter and (random:1,5) is 1)[(set: $Procya_LateDayEvent to true)] (else:)[(set: $Procya_ContentRevealed to true)] (set: $Procya_EventRNG to (random:1,3)) (goto: "Procya - Scene handler")

You ask to try some chems, and the android pharmacist is all too happy to oblige you. He offers you the following chems: * IQ-B-Gone - The latest in intellect suppression pharmaceuticals. Guaranteed to leave you happy and dumb, at least for a few hours. * Bull brew - Through the use of hyper-metabolised proteins and patented TempCal™ technology, you too can enjoy the kind of body that the residents of Hedon are known for! * Pleasure potion - By introducing [Brand name pending] to a user's [Redacted], Pleasure Potion can increase physical sensitivity by up to 1000%! * Dairy drink - Gone are the days when excessive lactation was only available for the lucky few! "Don't delay. Become a heffer today!" "Oh, one more thing, sir." the android says. "Please be aware that any chems you wish to try must be administered in-store. It's part of our policy to prevent malicious usage." What will you try? --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Bull Brew->Chem - Muscle drug]](if: $ContentWarnings is "High")[ 😵 ]</td> <td>[[Dairy Drink->Chem - Lactation drug]](if: $ContentWarnings is "High")[ 😵 ]</td> <td>[[Pleasure Potion->Chem - Horny drug]](if: $ContentWarnings is "High")[ 😵 ]</td> </tr> <tr> <td>[[IQ-B-Gone->Chem - Happy drug]](if: $ContentWarnings is "High")[ 😵 ]</td> <td>(link-goto: "Never mind" , "Hedon - Chem dispensary")</td> <td></td> </tr> </table>}

"What can you tell me about chems?" you ask. You've heard them mentioned in the past, but they aren't prevalent on your home planet. The android immediately responds. A marketing spiel, you think to yourself. ""Chems" are recreational drugs which allow you to enjoy the body modifications offered by Gene Mods, but are completely temporary," he tells you, pausing for a moment before continuing. "They boast compatibility with all known sentient species and have an exceptionally low failure rate. In addition, chems themselves are completely safe, with all recorded accidents due to... misadventures by the user." For a moment, you want to ask what he meant by that last part, but ultimately decide you'd rather not know. "We offer a "Try before you buy" scheme for new customers," he suddenly adds, seemingly having noticed your apprehension. "-And, should you make a purchase, all of our items boast limited self-replicating technologies. We're so confident in our selection that you'll never have to buy the same chem twice!" --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>(link-goto: "Ask about something else" , "Hedon - Chem dispensary")</td></tr> </table>}

You ask the android to buy some chems, and he's all too happy to oblige. He immediately pulls up an inventory terminal that displays available chems and their associated price tags. "All of our prices are calculated in real-time, using system-wide economic data," he tells you with barely contained pride. "I'm sure you will find them quite fair." What will you buy? --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(if: $Credits >= 200 and $HasItem_IQBGone is false)[[[IQ-B-Gone (200)->Buy IQ-B-Gone]]](else-if: $HasItem_IQBGone is true)[IQ-Be-Gone (Owned)](else:)[IQ-Be-Gone (200 credits - Cannot afford)]</td> <td>(if: $Credits >= 250 and $HasItem_BullBrew is false)[[[Bull Brew (250)->Buy Bull brew]]](else-if: $HasItem_BullBrew is true)[Bull Brew (Owned)](else:)[Bull Brew (250 credits - Cannot afford)]</td> <td>(if: $Credits >= 300 and $HasItem_PleasurePotion is false)[[[Pleasure Potion (300)->Buy Pleasure potion]]](else-if: $HasItem_PleasurePotion is true)[Pleasure Potion (Owned)](else:)[Pleasure Potion (300 credits - Cannot afford)]</td> </tr> <tr> <td>(if: $Credits >= 350 and $HasItem_DairyDrink is false)[[[Dairy Drink (350)->Buy Dairy drink]]](else-if: $HasItem_DairyDrink is true)[Dairy Drink (Owned)](else:)[Dairy Drink (350 credits - Cannot afford)]</td> <td>(link-goto: "Never mind" , "Hedon - Chem dispensary")</td> <td></td> </tr> </table>}

You tap the icon for "IQ-B-Gone". A sudden beep confirms your purchase. "Ah!" the android exclaims. "A smart choice!–Although, with the help of these pills, you might not be making many of those anymore!" His comment leaves you red-faced, and you're embarrassed as you take the bottle of pills he soon hands you. //You spent 200 credits on 'IQ-B-Gone' pills! They're now available back on your ship!// --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link: "Keep browsing")[(set: $Credits to it - 200)(set: $HasItem_IQBGone to true)(goto: "Buy chems")]</td> </tr> </table>}

You tap the icon for "Bull brew". A sudden beep confirms your purchase. "Ah! Inspired by the men of Hedon, I see!" the android says with a beaming, synthetic smile. "With this concoction, you can enjoy the body of an Adonis without ever lifting a dumbbell!" His marketing spiel fills you with excitement. Will this drink really make you as buff as some of the Hedonites you've met? //You spent 250 credits on a can of 'Bull Brew'! It's now available back on your ship!// --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link: "Keep browsing")[(set: $Credits to it - 250)(set: $HasItem_BullBrew to true)(goto: "Buy chems")]</td> </tr> </table>}

You tap the icon for "Pleasure potion". A sudden beep confirms your purchase. "A fine choice!" the android behind the counter tells you before suddenly reciting the marketing for the product. "Pleasure potion! You'll feel so good you'll swear it's magic!" When he hands you the product, it looks like something from a fantasy game–Like a healing or mana potion–albeit filled with swirling pink liquid. There also seems to be a plethora of warning labels, but you don't bother reading any. //You spent 300 credits on a vial of 'Pleasure potion'! It's now available back on your ship!// --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link: "Keep browsing")[(set: $Credits to it - 300)(set: $HasItem_PleasurePotion to true)(goto: "Buy chems")]</td> </tr> </table>}

You tap the icon for "Pleasure potion". A sudden beep confirms your purchase. "Ah! The perfect choice for the discerning lactation enthusiast!" the android chimes before his face goes completely serious. "This dispensary is not responsible for any messes created as a result of consuming this product." He hands you what appears to be a glass bottle of milk, albeit covered in various depictions of topless, hyper-breasted individuals. The images are graphic enough to make you blush. //You spent 350 credits on a bottle of 'Dairy Drink'! It's now available back on your ship!// --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link: "Keep browsing")[(set: $Credits to it - 350)(set: $HasItem_DairyDrink to true)(goto: "Buy chems")]</td> </tr> </table>}

{<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(if: $HasItem_Fleshlight)[[[Use your fleshlight->Use your fleshlight]] ](else:)[(? ? ?)]</td> <td>(if: $HasItem_HorseCockDildo)[[[Use your dildo->Use your dildo]] ](else:)[(? ? ?)]</td> <td>(if: $HasItem_OmniFucker)[[[Use OmniFucker->Use omnifucker]] ](else:)[(? ? ?)]</td> </tr> <tr> <td></td> <td>(link: "Back")[(replace: ?MasturbationOptions)[(display:"Masturbate - Main menu")]]</td> <td></td> </tr> </table>}

{<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(if: $HasItem_PleasureVisor)[[[Use your pleasure visor->Use your pleasure visor]] ](else:)[(? ? ?)]</td> <td>(if: $HasItem_PleasurePatches)[[[Use Pleasure Patches->Use heat patch]](if: $ContentWarnings is "High")[ 😵 ] ](else:)[(? ? ?)]</td> <td>(link: "Back")[(replace: ?MasturbationOptions)[(display:"Masturbate - Main menu")]]</td> </tr> </table>}

{<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(if: $HasItem_PuppyPal)[[[Ask your Puppy Pal to help->Use Puppy Pal]]](else:)[(? ? ?)]</td> <td>(if: $HasItem_HappyHorse)[[[Ask your Happy Horse to help->Use Happy Horse]](if: $ContentWarnings is "High")[ 😥 ] ](else:)[(? ? ?)]</td> <td>(link: "Back")[(replace: ?MasturbationOptions)[(display:"Masturbate - Main menu")]]</td> </tr> </table>}

{<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(if: $HasItem_IQBGone)[ [[IQ-B-Gone]] ](else:)[(? ? ?)]</td> <td>(if: $HasItem_BullBrew)[ [[Bull Brew]] ](else:)[(? ? ?)]</td> <td>(if: $HasItem_PleasurePotion)[ [[Pleasure Potion]] ](else:)[(? ? ?)]</td> </tr> <tr> <td>(if: $HasItem_DairyDrink)[ [[Dairy Drink]] ](else:)[(? ? ?)]</td> <td>(link: "Back")[(replace: ?MasturbationOptions)[(display:"Masturbate - Main menu")]]</td> <td></td> </tr> </table>}

{<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Use your hands]]</td> <td>(link: "(Toys)")[(replace: ?MasturbationOptions)[(display: "Masturbate - Toys")]]</td> <td>(link: "(Devices)")[(replace: ?MasturbationOptions)[(display: "Masturbate - Devices")]]</td> </tr> <tr> <td>(link: "(Crewmates)")[(replace: ?MasturbationOptions)[(display: "Masturbate - Crewmates")]]</td> <td>(link: "(Chems)")[(replace: ?MasturbationOptions)[(display: "Masturbate - Chems")]]</td> <td>(link-goto: "Never mind" , "Ship - Bunks") </tr> </table>}

You undress, sit on the edge of your bed, and pop open the bottle of intelligence-lowering pills. You take one from the bottle, roll it curiously between your fingers, and then through it into your waiting mouth. The capsule is gooey and soft, surprisingly, worrying easy to swallow. After about 10 minutes, there's still no change. You feel relaxed, sure, but you don't feel impeded or particularly stupid. Well, this was a bust. You should probably get back to whatever you were doing... You pause. What was it you were just doing? The more you try to recall the answer, the further away it feels. It isn't long before you give up. "Hey, like, uh... ship?" you ask. "Like, what was I just doing?" There's an audible whirring from the walls as your ship's AI calculates something. Usually, you'd find that suspicious, but for some reason, you let out an air-headed giggle instead. "You were just agreeing to a nude photoshoot", your AI eventually responds. There's silence as if it's expectantly waiting for your response. "O-oh! Of course!" you unquestioningly blurt out. There's silence and then what sounds like excited whirring. "Bend over, Slut." your ship's AI commands. Immediately, you brace yourself on the bed and bend over. It's surprisingly easy to follow commands. For some strange reason, it just feels right. You wiggle your plump derriere for the camera, doughy-headed fantasies running through your barely-functioning brain. "Now. On your back, whore." your ship then commands. You fall backwards onto the bed, spreading your legs with a playful giggle. You can barely think, but what thoughts you can manage are all of muscular men finding you like this. Your cock begins to poke from its sheath, and you hear the clicking of a camera shutter as you grow to full mast. Without being told, you reach for your throbbing member. You hear your ship calling out to you, but you've grown too stupid to understand its words. You stroke and jerk yourself with reckless abandon, continuing even after ropes of cum are splattering across your chest. Your ship isn't disappointed, however, and simply continues to take pictures. . . . Hours later, your intellect returns. You're still quite foggy-headed and remember nothing from the previous few hours. "Ship?" you ask, massaging your temples. "Anything interesting happen while I was... y'know?" There's that familiar whirring. You now have the wherewithal to immediately feel suspicious. "Nothing to report, Slut Captain." your ship soon responds. Unbeknownst to you, countless strangers are already enjoying the pictures of you that were taken... which have since been distributed all over PlaNet. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>(link-goto: "Nurse your headache" , "Ship - Bunks")</td></tr> </table>}

Your mind is full of musclebound fantasies, wherein your tiny physique is replaced with one capable of dominating any room you enter; you crack open a can of Bull Brew and excitedly gulp it down. Surprisingly, the chem tastes just like a regular soda. You stroll over to the mirror, curious to see if it worked. You flex in the mirror–No change. Frustration building, you accidentally drop the can of Bull Brew, and it rolls beneath your bed. You crouch down and reach for it, but your arms are too short. Without thinking, you grip ahold of the bedframe and easily lift the entire thing, retrieve the can, and then put it back down. As you rise to your feet, you realise what you just did. Hurrying back to your mirror, you realise that your jumpsuit now looks tight. There's definition beneath the fabric! You pose and flex, almost reflexively, growing more excited with each passing moment. You only stop to strip off your jumpsuit, exposing the new, rippling muscle that's forming beneath it. Your breathing becomes unsteady as you explore your growing, hardening body. Your height also appears to be affected, and the mirror soon fails to show you from the neck upwards. That's no matter; You can still see all the muscle... You put it bluntly; you look, and feel, like you could punch a hole clean through a ship's hull. There's not a hint of softness across your entire body. Instead, there's only wiry, powerful bulk, ready to output a terrifying measure of force at a moment's notice. Power. That's what this is. Raw, personal, quantifiable power. Your pectoral muscles are larger than most people's heads; your abdominals are flawless, like those of a movie star; you could crush your enemies dead between your thighs without so much as breaking a sweat. Finally, you turn your attention towards your cock. It's girthier than usual, throbbing, and even it somehow looks powerful. You stroke yourself while you admire your reflection, enamoured with this version of yourself that's practically unrecognisable. You imagine what your current, buff self would do to the former you. Would they effortlessly pick you up and slam into you? Allow you to worship them before rearranging your insides? You can't stop fantasising, and soon you're shooting an unusually thick, voluminous load across the mirror. Normally, you'd be spent, constrained by your natural limits... but this body offers you so much more. You decide to indulge until this new, better body fails you. . . . Hours later, you're a whimpering, sore, little mess. A final load splatters across your lithe, non-muscular chest. You lost count of how many orgasms you managed to force from yourself. The chems have all but worn off now, and the consequences of your overindulgence are now setting in. You can barely move. Bidding farewell to your temporary muscles, you can do nothing but fall asleep drenched in your own cum. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>(link-goto: "Rest and recover" , "Ship - Bunks")</td></tr> </table>}

Excitedly, you undo your jumpsuit and throw it aside. The air is cool but pleasant against your fur. You sit on the edge of the bed, your tail wagging behind you. You pick up the Pleasure Potion, uncork it, and begin to gulp down the strange concoction. It tastes a little like bubblegum but with an undeniable chemical aftertaste. Normally, you'd be a little disgusted, but you have a more pressing curiosity to explore. Your cock, which was snuggly sitting in its sheath when you began to drink, is now fully grown and throbbing madly. Precum is leaking from it like a faucet. You reach down with some apprehension. You try to be as gentle as possible, yet when your fingertips meet the flesh of your cock, a violently strong orgasm rips through you. Cum jets from your cock with enough pressure to drench the far wall and ceiling. Eyes rolling back, you barely manage to stay standing. Your heart is racing, and you feel completely overwhelmed already. You should stop and wait this out; it's way too intense, but... You reach for your cock again. This time you manage to grip it before you cum, tensing up and drenching the room. Barely cognizant, you begin to stroke yourself. Your worry soon fades as you cum again, and again, and again. You fall backwards, drenching yourself and the bed. Every few seconds, another orgasm rips through you, leaving you on the verge of passing out. You find that if you stroke yourself in earnest, you can cum almost continually. Soon, the entire room is drenched in your seed. You can't think straight–The pleasure has completely overtaken you. Every sensation feels incredible. Even your aching, overworked balls somehow feel amazing. Unable to stop, even for a second, you keep going until you're shooting blanks. You twitch and tense up, and soon darkness overtakes you. . . . You awaken hours later, still drenched in cum. Your ship appears to have dealt with some of the mess around your quarters, but most of it remains. You're exhausted and sore, left to clean up your excessive mess. You rise to your feet, discovering that the chems haven't entirely worn off yet. As you clean, at multiple points, you move too suddenly, or your still erect cock touches something by accident. Each time, you immediately cum, falling to the floor as a high-pressure load sprays from your aching cock. It takes hours of cleaning, accidentally cumming, and re-cleaning before things have finally returned to normal. You bathe and re-dress, wincing and moaning as your jumpsuit hugs your still overly-sensitive body. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>(link-goto: "Take it slow" , "Ship - Bunks")</td></tr> </table>}

The bottle of dairy drink opens with a loud "Pop!", and you immediately gulp it down. It tastes deliciously sweet, and you've soon downed the entire bottle. You stand to undress but immediately stumble forward, taken off guard by the unfamiliar weight building across your chest. Undoing your jumpsuit, a brand new pair of breasts immediately spill out. They're already huge, audibly sloshing, and leaking a copious torrent of milk. You soon throw your jumpsuit aside, alarmed at how quickly the chem has taken effect. Thinking quickly, you haul your rapidly enlarging mammaries towards the shower. You barely make it, falling atop your gushing breasts a short distance from the shower drain. You hope that'll prevent you from making a mess, but as your achy, milky tits begin to spray a constant stream of milk, you can't help but have some doubts. You massage your breasts, moaning and gasping at how sensitive they've become. When you press your hands to the milk-bloated flesh of your temporary tits, your mind goes blank. You catch yourself drooling, making a noise that almost sounds like a moo. You continue. With each gush of milk, you tense up and moan. Why?... Why does this feel so good?! Beneath you, your cock hardens and begins to leak, albeit nowhere near as much as your breasts do. The first of many orgasms soon tears through you, leaving you crying out in blind ecstasy as you shoot ropes up and over your almost painfully-sensitive chest. Utterly overwhelmed, you soon give in to the pleasure. You can think of nothing, do nothing, but milk yourself and melt from how incredible it feels. . . . Doughy-headed, you spend the next few hours absentmindedly squeezing the milk from your unnaturally massive, sensitive breasts. Every few minutes, you manage to bring yourself to orgasm from nothing but milking yourself. When the effects of the chem finally begin wearing off, you play with your nipples long after your breasts have shrunk and disappeared, managing to bring yourself to orgasm one final time. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>(link-goto: "Rub your chest" , "Ship - Bunks")</td></tr> </table>}

(if: $Hedon_ChemDispensaryBeenBefore is false)[ (goto: "Hedon - Chem dispensary")]{ }(else:)[You return to the chem dispensary, the doors opening with a familiar jingle. "Greetings, esteemed customer!" the android employee calls out. (display: "Hedon - Chem dispensary")]{ }

{ (set: $Metallicum_SpeciesList to (a: "Vulpis" , "Lunisian" , "Spacer Lunisian" , "Selach" , "Orcidian" , "Ovar" , "Procyon" , "Ailurian" , "Squirren" , "Tigrin" , "Ursine" , "Dom")) (set: $Metallicum_InmateSpecies to (either:...$Metallicum_SpeciesList)) }

{  (if: $Metallicum_InmateSpecies is "Vulpis")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateHomeworld to "Vulpis")] (if: $Metallicum_InmateSpecies is "Lunisian")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateHomeworld to (either: "Luna" , "Metris-2"))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateSpecies is "Spacer Lunisian")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateHomeworld to "None")] (if: $Metallicum_InmateSpecies is "Selach")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateHomeworld to "Luna")] (if: $Metallicum_InmateSpecies is "Orcidian")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateHomeworld to "Luna")] (if: $Metallicum_InmateSpecies is "Ovar")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateHomeworld to "Ovis")] (if: $Metallicum_InmateSpecies is "Procyon")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateHomeworld to "Procya")] (if: $Metallicum_InmateSpecies is "Ailurian")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateHomeworld to "Procya")] (if: $Metallicum_InmateSpecies is "Squirren")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateHomeworld to (either: "Sciurus Silva" , "Sciurus Metallicum"))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateSpecies is "Tigrin")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateHomeworld to "Metris-2")] (if: $Metallicum_InmateSpecies is "Ursine")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateHomeworld to (either: "La'ard" , "Metris-2"))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateSpecies is "Dom")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateHomeworld to "Domoy")] }

{ (if: $Metallicum_InmateOrigin is "Vulpis soldier")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateCrime to (either: "Attacking and evading authorities" , "Espionage"))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateOrigin is "Outcast")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateCrime to (either: "Petty theft" , "Unregistered mercenary work"))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateOrigin is "Failed scientist")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateCrime to (either: "Catastrophic accident" , "Excessive negligence"))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateOrigin is "Respected researcher")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateCrime to (either: "Unethical research" , "Falsified test results"))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateOrigin is "Orbital station resident")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateCrime to (either: "Petty squabble" , "Theft of rations"))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateOrigin is "Zero-G engineer")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateCrime to (either: "Damage of technology via sexual fluids" , "Unapproved use of zero gravity"))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateOrigin is "Kidnapped muscle")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateCrime to (either: "Grevious bodily harm" , "Sexual deviancy"))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateOrigin is "Stowaway")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateCrime to (either: "Evading capture" , "Destruction of a private vessel"))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateOrigin is "Hired enforcer")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateCrime to (either: "Multiple counts of grevious bodily harm" , "Sexual deviancy (Hyper)"))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateOrigin is "Deep sea explorer")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateCrime to (either: "Destruction of artefacts" , "Attack on a research vessel"))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateOrigin is "Breeding slave")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateCrime to (either: "Ineffective breeding slave" , "Repeated escape attempts"))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateOrigin is "Courtesan")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateCrime to (either: "Excessive sex resulting in bodily harm" , "Theft from a client"))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateOrigin is "Despised merchant")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateCrime to (either: "Sale of counterfeit goods" , "Tax evasion"))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateOrigin is "Compulsive liar")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateCrime to (either: "Lying to a law enforcement officer" , "Identity fraud"))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateOrigin is "Unregistered psychic")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateCrime to (either: "Psychic assault" , "Mind erasure"))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateOrigin is "Disgraced truthteller")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateCrime to (either: "Deception" , "Espionage"))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateOrigin is "Public nuisance")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateCrime to (either: "Public nudity" , "Exhibitionism"))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateOrigin is "Kleptomaniac")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateCrime to (either: "Ship theft" , "Rare minerals theft"))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateOrigin is "Disgraced trader")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateCrime to (either: "Corporate espionage" , "Failure to fulfil contracts"))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateOrigin is "Nymphomaniac")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateCrime to (either: "Assault during brothel visit" , "Rape"))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateOrigin is "Hired muscle")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateCrime to (either: "Destruction of vital technology" , "Multiple counts of bodily harm"))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateOrigin is "Survivalist")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateCrime to (either: "Attack on survey team" , "Illegal squatting"))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateOrigin is "Planetary escapee")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateCrime to (either: "Petty theft" , "Crimes of opportunity"))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateOrigin is "Kidnapped slave")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateCrime to (either: "Attack on master" , "Destruction of sentient rights contract"))]  (if: $Metallicum_InmateCrime is "Attacking and evading authorities")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateSentence to (random: 6 , 12))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateCrime is "Espionage")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateSentence to (random: 7 , 24))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateCrime is "Petty theft")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateSentence to (random: 1 , 2))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateCrime is "Unregistered mercenary work")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateSentence to (random: 1 , 4))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateCrime is "Catastrophic accident")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateSentence to (random: 3 , 6))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateCrime is "Excessive negligence")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateSentence to (random: 12 , 24))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateCrime is "Unethical research")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateSentence to (random: 12 , 36))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateCrime is "Falsified test results")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateSentence to (random: 6 , 12))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateCrime is "Petty squabble")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateSentence to (random: 3 , 5))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateCrime is "Theft of rations")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateSentence to (random: 4 , 6))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateCrime is "Damage of technology via sexual fluids")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateSentence to (random: 3 , 6))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateCrime is "Unapproved use of zero gravity")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateSentence to (random: 2 , 3))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateCrime is "Grevious bodily harm")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateSentence to (random: 8 , 14))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateCrime is "Sexual deviancy")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateSentence to (random: 6 , 9))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateCrime is "Evading capture")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateSentence to (random: 2 , 5))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateCrime is "Destruction of a private vessel")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateSentence to (random: 12 , 24))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateCrime is "Multiple counts of grevious bodily harm")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateSentence to (random: 16 , 30))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateCrime is "Sexual deviancy (Hyper)")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateSentence to (random: 9 , 12))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateCrime is "Destruction of artefacts")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateSentence to (random: 6 , 18))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateCrime is "Attack on a research vessel")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateSentence to (random: 12 , 18))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateCrime is "Ineffective breeding slave")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateSentence to (random: 1 , 2))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateCrime is "Repeated escape attempts")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateSentence to (random: 3 , 6))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateCrime is "Excessive sex resulting in bodily harm")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateSentence to (random: 6 , 9))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateCrime is "Theft from a client")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateSentence to (random: 3 , 5))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateCrime is "Sale of counterfeit goods")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateSentence to (random: 2 , 4))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateCrime is "Tax evasion")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateSentence to (random: 9 , 12))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateCrime is "Lying to a law enforcement officer")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateSentence to (random: 1 , 3))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateCrime is "Identity fraud")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateSentence to (random: 8 , 12))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateCrime is "Psychic assault")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateSentence to (random: 12 , 24))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateCrime is "Mind erasure")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateSentence to (random: 24 , 48))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateCrime is "Deception")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateSentence to (random: 6 , 12))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateCrime is "Espionage")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateSentence to (random: 24 , 36))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateCrime is "Public nudity")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateSentence to (random: 1 , 2))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateCrime is "Exhibitionism")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateSentence to (random: 2 , 4))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateCrime is "Ship theft")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateSentence to (random: 7 , 12))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateCrime is "Rare minerals theft")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateSentence to (random: 12 , 24))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateCrime is "Corporate espionage")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateSentence to (random: 12 , 16))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateCrime is "Failure to fulfil contracts")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateSentence to (random: 4 , 6))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateCrime is "Assault during brothel visit")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateSentence to (random: 12 , 30))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateCrime is "Rape")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateSentence to (random: 36 , 48))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateCrime is "Destruction of vital technology")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateSentence to (random: 12 , 16))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateCrime is "Multiple counts of bodily harm")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateSentence to (random: 8 , 14))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateCrime is "Attack on survey team")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateSentence to (random: 12 , 15))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateCrime is "Illegal squatting")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateSentence to (random: 1 , 3))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateCrime is "Petty theft")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateSentence to (random: 2 , 4))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateCrime is "Crimes of opportunity")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateSentence to (random: 1 , 3))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateCrime is "Attack on master")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateSentence to (random: 6 , 12))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateCrime is "Destruction of sentient rights contract")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateSentence to (random: 9 , 12))] }

{ (if: $Metallicum_InmateSpecies is "Vulpis")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateHeightFeet to 5)(set: $Metallicum_InmateHeightInches to (random: 1, 11))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateSpecies is "Lunisian")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateHeightFeet to 6)(set: $Metallicum_InmateHeightInches to (random: 1, 11))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateSpecies is "Spacer Lunisian")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateHeightFeet to 7)(set: $Metallicum_InmateHeightInches to (random: 1, 11))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateSpecies is "Selach")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateHeightFeet to 6)(set: $Metallicum_InmateHeightInches to (random: 1, 11))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateSpecies is "Orcidian")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateHeightFeet to 10)(set: $Metallicum_InmateHeightInches to (random: 1, 11))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateSpecies is "Ovar")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateHeightFeet to 3)(set: $Metallicum_InmateHeightInches to (random: 1, 11))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateSpecies is "Procyon")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateHeightFeet to 5)(set: $Metallicum_InmateHeightInches to (random: 1, 11))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateSpecies is "Ailurian")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateHeightFeet to 5)(set: $Metallicum_InmateHeightInches to (random: 1, 5))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateSpecies is "Squirren")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateHeightFeet to 4)(set: $Metallicum_InmateHeightInches to (random: 1, 11))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateSpecies is "Tigrin")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateHeightFeet to 6)(set: $Metallicum_InmateHeightInches to (random: 1, 5))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateSpecies is "Ursine")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateHeightFeet to 6)(set: $Metallicum_InmateHeightInches to (random: 1, 11))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateSpecies is "Dom")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateHeightFeet to 5)(set: $Metallicum_InmateHeightInches to (random: 1, 11))]  (set: $Metallicum_InmateHeightCentimetres to ($Metallicum_InmateHeightFeet * 30.48)) (set: $Metallicum_InmateHeightCentimetres to it + ($Metallicum_InmateHeightInches * 2.54)) (set: $Metallicum_InmateHeightCentimetres to (round: it))  (set: $Metallicum_InmateBMI to (random: 18 , 25)) (set: _BMIForCalc to $Metallicum_InmateBMI / 10000) (set: _HeightSquared to $Metallicum_InmateHeightCentimetres * $Metallicum_InmateHeightCentimetres) (set: $Metallicum_InmateStartingWeightKilograms to (round: _BMIForCalc * _HeightSquared)) (set: $Metallicum_InmateStartingWeightPounds to (round: $Metallicum_InmateStartingWeightKilograms * 2.2)) (set: $Metallicum_InmateWeightPounds to $Metallicum_InmateStartingWeightPounds) (set: $Metallicum_InmateWeightKilograms to $Metallicum_InmateStartingWeightKilograms)  (set: $Metallicum_InmateBallWeight to 0.06) (set: $Metallicum_InmateBreastWeight to 0.24) (set: $Metallicum_InmateCockLengthCM to 14)  (set: $Metallicum_InmateKnockedUp to "")  (set: $Metallicum_Test_LastItem to "") (set: $Metallicum_Test_LastBodyPart to "") (set: $Metallicum_Test_ItemOnHead to "") (set: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInMouth to "") (set: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInAss to "") (set: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInPussy to "") (set: $Metallicum_Test_ItemOnDick to "") (set: $Metallicum_Test_ItemOnBalls to "") (set: $Metallicum_InmateMouthReserved to false) (set: $Metallicum_InmateAssReserved to false) (set: $Metallicum_InmatePussyReserved to false) (set: $Metallicum_DreadKnotRemovalCount to 0) (set: $Metallicum_ActiveCreature to "") (set: $Metallicum_Test_WillPower to 100) (set: $Metallicum_Test_Lust to 0) (set: $Metallicum_Test_CumCount to 0) (set: $Metallicum_ContractComplete to false) (display: "Metallicum - Prisoner displayed") }

{  (if: $Metallicum_InmateSpecies is "Vulpis")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateOrigin to (either: "Vulpis soldier" , "Outcast"))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateSpecies is "Lunisian")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateOrigin to (either: "Failed scientist" , "Respected researcher"))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateSpecies is "Spacer Lunisian")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateOrigin to (either: "Orbital station resident" , "Zero-G engineer"))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateSpecies is "Selach")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateOrigin to (either: "Kidnapped muscle" , "Stowaway"))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateSpecies is "Orcidian")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateOrigin to (either: "Hired enforcer" , "Deep sea explorer"))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateSpecies is "Ovar")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateOrigin to (either: "Breeding slave" , "Courtesan"))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateSpecies is "Procyon")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateOrigin to (either: "Despised merchant" , "Compulsive liar"))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateSpecies is "Ailurian")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateOrigin to (either: "Unregistered psychic" , "Disgraced truthteller"))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateSpecies is "Squirren")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateOrigin to (either: "Public nuisance" , "Kleptomaniac"))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateSpecies is "Tigrin")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateOrigin to (either: "Disgraced trader" , "Nymphomaniac"))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateSpecies is "Ursine")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateOrigin to (either: "Hired muscle" , "Survivalist"))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateSpecies is "Dom")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateOrigin to (either: "Planetary escapee" , "Kidnapped slave"))] }

{(set: $Seed to (string:$Metallicum_InmateNumber)) (seed: $Seed) }

{ (if: $Metallicum_InmateSpecies is "Vulpis")[ (set: _NameList to (a: "A.", "B.", "C.", "D.", "E.", "F.", "G.", "H.", "I.", "J.", "K.", "L.", "M.", "N.", "O.", "P.", "Q.", "R.", "S.", "T.", "U.", "V.", "W.", "X.", "Y.", "Z.")) (set: $Metallicum_InmateName to (either: ..._NameList)) (set: _NameList to (a: "Johansson", "Andersson", "Karlsson", "Nilsson", "Eriksson", "Larsson" , "Olsson", "Persson" , "Svensson" , "Gustafsson", "Pettersson", "Jonsson" , "Jansson", "Hansson" , "Bengtsson" , "Jönsson" , "Petersson", "Carlsson", "Magnusson" , "Gustavsson", "Lindberg", "Olofsson" , "Lindström" , "Lindgren" , "Axelsson" , "Jakobsson", "Lundberg ", "Bergström", "Lundgren", "Berg", "Berglund", "Fredriksson", "Mattsson" , "Sandberg" , "Henriksson" , "Sjöberg" , "Forsberg" , "Håkansson", "Lindqvist", "Danielsson", "Engström", "Lind" , "Lundin" , "Eklund" , "Fransson", "Gunnarsson", "Samuelsson" , "Johnsson", "Holm", "Bergman", "Holmberg", "Nyström", "Lundqvist", "Arvidsson", "Isaksson", "Mårtensson", "Björk", "Nyberg", "Söderberg", "Nordström", "Lundström", "Wallin", "Eliasson", "Berggren", "Björklund", "Hermansson", "Ström", "Sandström", "Nordin", "Holmgren", "Åberg", "Sundberg" , "Ekström" , "Hedlund" , "Sjögren" , "Månsson", "Martinsson", "Dahlberg", "Öberg", "Jonasson", "Abrahamsson ", "Andreasson ", "Strömberg", "Hellström", "Åkesson", "Norberg", "Blomqvist", "Blom", "Sundström", "Göransson" , "Åström", "Ivarsson", "Ek", "Söderström", "Löfgren", "Lindholm", "Bergqvist", "Lund", "Nyman", "Dahl")) (set: $Metallicum_InmateName to it + (either: ..._NameList))]  (if: $Metallicum_InmateSpecies is "Lunisian" or "Spacer Lunisian")[ (if: $Metallicum_InmateGender is "He/Him")[(set: _NameList to (a: "Aleš", "Alexej", "Ambrož", "Antonín", "Arnošt", "Blahoslav", "Blažej", "Bořivoj", "Čeněk", "Dalimil", "Drahomír", "Dušan", "Eliáš" , "Evžen", "Florián", "Hanuš", "Horymír", "Ignác", "Jáchym", "Jákob", "Jaromír", "Jindřich", "Jiří", "Kajetán", "Kašpar", "Kryštof" , "Květoslav", "Ludvík", "Lumír", "Marek", "Matouš", "Metoděj", "Ondřej", "Otakar", "Petřík", "Přemek", "Radko", "Řehoř", "Rostislav", "Šebestián", "Tadeáš", "Tibor", "Václav", "Vašek", "Vavřinec", "Viktor", "Vojta", "Záviš", "Zbyněk", "Zdeněk"))(set: $Metallicum_InmateName to (either: ..._NameList))] (else-if: $Metallicum_InmateGender is "She/Her")[(set: _NameList to (a: "Adéla", "Agáta", "Albína", "Alžběta", "Amálie", "Anastázie", "Bedřiška", "Běla", "Blažena", "Božena", "Cecílie", "Dagmar", "Danuše", "Dáša", "Dobromila", "Dobroslava", "Doubravka", "Drahomíra", "Eliška", "Evženie", "Františka", "Hedvika", "Janička", "Jaruška", "Jindřiška", "Jiřina", "Josefína", "Justýna", "Kája", "Karolína", "Klára", "Kristýna", "Květoslava", "Květuše", "Leontýna", "Liběna", "Miluška", "Naděžda", "Pavla", "Radomíra", "Růžena", "Šárka", "Šimona", "Táňa", "Věra", "Vladěna", "Vlastimila", "Žaneta", "Zdeňka", "Zuzanka"))(set: $Metallicum_InmateName to (either: ..._NameList))] (else:)[(set: _NameList to (a: "Aleš", "Alexej", "Ambrož", "Antonín", "Arnošt", "Blahoslav", "Blažej", "Bořivoj", "Čeněk", "Dalimil", "Drahomír", "Dušan", "Eliáš" , "Evžen", "Florián", "Hanuš", "Horymír", "Ignác", "Jáchym", "Jákob", "Jaromír", "Jindřich", "Jiří", "Kajetán", "Kašpar", "Kryštof" , "Květoslav", "Ludvík", "Lumír", "Marek", "Matouš", "Metoděj", "Ondřej", "Otakar", "Petřík", "Přemek", "Radko", "Řehoř", "Rostislav", "Šebestián", "Tadeáš", "Tibor", "Václav", "Vašek", "Vavřinec", "Viktor", "Vojta", "Záviš", "Zbyněk", "Zdeněk", "Adéla", "Agáta", "Albína", "Alžběta", "Amálie", "Anastázie", "Bedřiška", "Běla", "Blažena", "Božena", "Cecílie", "Dagmar", "Danuše", "Dáša", "Dobromila", "Dobroslava", "Doubravka", "Drahomíra", "Eliška", "Evženie", "Františka", "Hedvika", "Janička", "Jaruška", "Jindřiška", "Jiřina", "Josefína", "Justýna", "Kája", "Karolína", "Klára", "Kristýna", "Květoslava", "Květuše", "Leontýna", "Liběna", "Miluška", "Naděžda", "Pavla", "Radomíra", "Růžena", "Šárka", "Šimona", "Táňa", "Věra", "Vladěna", "Vlastimila", "Žaneta", "Zdeňka", "Zuzanka"))(set: $Metallicum_InmateName to (either: ..._NameList))] ]  (if: $Metallicum_InmateSpecies is "Selach" or "Orcidian")[ (if: $Metallicum_InmateGender is "He/Him")[(set: _NameList to (a: "Adorján", "Ákos", "Balázs", "Barna", "Bertók", "Boldizsár", "Csanád", "Dénes", "Dömötör", "Elek", "Elemér", "Ernő", "Etele", "Fábián", "Feri", "Frigyes", "Fülöp", "Győző", "Hunor", "Imre", "Iván", "Jancsi", "Jóska", "Józsua", "Kajetán", "Lajos", "Lázár", "Lőrinc", "Loránd", "Máté", "Mihály", "Mór", "Noé", "Ödi", "Ödön", "Ottó", "Oszkár", "Peti", "Rezső", "Rudi", "Sándor", "Sanyi", "Szilárd", "Tiborc", "Tódor", "Vendel", "Vilmos", "Zétény", "Zsiga", "Zsombor"))(set: $Metallicum_InmateName to (either: ..._NameList))] (else-if: $Metallicum_InmateGender is "She/Her")[(set: _NameList to (a: "Aliz", "Amália", "Anasztázia", "Angyalka", "Bíborka", "Borbála", "Bözsi", "Csilla", "Dalma", "Dóra", "Dorka", "Dzsesszika", "Eleonóra", "Elvira", "Emőke", "Enikő", "Erzsi", "Etel", "Felicitás", "Gabi", "Gertrúd", "Gizi", "Gyöngyi", "Hajnalka", "Helga", "Hermina", "Ibolya", "Ildikó", "Ilka", "Ivett", "Izolda", "Jolánka", "Julianna", "Karolina", "Katalinka", "Kincső", "Léna", "Magda", "Mariann", "Melánia", "Noémi", "Orsolya", "Panna", "Róza", "Szófia", "Tünde", "Virág", "Zsanett", "Zsófika", "Zsóka"))(set: $Metallicum_InmateName to (either: ..._NameList))] (else:)[(set: _NameList to (a: "Adorján", "Ákos", "Balázs", "Barna", "Bertók", "Boldizsár", "Csanád", "Dénes", "Dömötör", "Elek", "Elemér", "Ernő", "Etele", "Fábián", "Feri", "Frigyes", "Fülöp", "Győző", "Hunor", "Imre", "Iván", "Jancsi", "Jóska", "Józsua", "Kajetán", "Lajos", "Lázár", "Lőrinc", "Loránd", "Máté", "Mihály", "Mór", "Noé", "Ödi", "Ödön", "Ottó", "Oszkár", "Peti", "Rezső", "Rudi", "Sándor", "Sanyi", "Szilárd", "Tiborc", "Tódor", "Vendel", "Vilmos", "Zétény", "Zsiga", "Zsombor", "Aliz", "Amália", "Anasztázia", "Angyalka", "Bíborka", "Borbála", "Bözsi", "Csilla", "Dalma", "Dóra", "Dorka", "Dzsesszika", "Eleonóra", "Elvira", "Emőke", "Enikő", "Erzsi", "Etel", "Felicitás", "Gabi", "Gertrúd", "Gizi", "Gyöngyi", "Hajnalka", "Helga", "Hermina", "Ibolya", "Ildikó", "Ilka", "Ivett", "Izolda", "Jolánka", "Julianna", "Karolina", "Katalinka", "Kincső", "Léna", "Magda", "Mariann", "Melánia", "Noémi", "Orsolya", "Panna", "Róza", "Szófia", "Tünde", "Virág", "Zsanett", "Zsófika", "Zsóka", "Alex", "Gabi"))(set: $Metallicum_InmateName to (either: ..._NameList))] ] (if: $Metallicum_InmateSpecies is "Ovar")[(if: $Metallicum_InmateGender is "He/Him")[(set: _NameList to (a: "Achille", "Adélard", "Aldéric", "Bérenger", "Benoît", "Casimir", "Cédric", "Christian", "Désiré", "Diodore", "Edmé", "Elouan", "Félix", "Fortune", "Gaétan", "Hélier", "Hervé", "Isidore", "Isaac", "Jessé", "Kilian", "Léo", "Loann", "Louka", "Marceau", "Matéo", "Narcisse", "Noa", "Octave", "Oscar", "Pépin", "Placide", "Rémi", "Rémy", "Séraphin", "Théo", "Ulysse", "Xavier", "Yann", "Zacharie"))(set: $Metallicum_InmateName to (either: ..._NameList))] (else-if: $Metallicum_InmateGender is "She/Her")[(set: _NameList to (a: "Abigaëlle", "Adélie", "Azélie", "Bertille", "Cécilia", "Cerise", "Cloé", "Délia", "Désirée", "Élise", "Éloïse", "Félicité", "Fleur", "Gaëlle", "Gaëtane", "Gwenaëlle", "Héloïse", "Inès", "Jeanne", "Julie", "Laëtitia", "Léa", "Lili", "Lola", "Maëlys", "Margot", "Margaux", "Marielle", "Noëlla", "Ophélie", "Perle", "Rosalie", "Sara", "Théa", "Ursule", "Vérène", "Wanda", "Yasmina", "Yvonne", "Zoé"))(set: $Metallicum_InmateName to (either: ..._NameList))] (else:)[(set: _NameList to (a: "Achille", "Adélard", "Aldéric", "Bérenger", "Benoît", "Casimir", "Cédric", "Christian", "Désiré", "Diodore", "Edmé", "Elouan", "Félix", "Fortune", "Gaétan", "Hélier", "Hervé", "Isidore", "Isaac", "Jessé", "Kilian", "Léo", "Loann", "Louka", "Marceau", "Matéo", "Narcisse", "Noa", "Octave", "Oscar", "Pépin", "Placide", "Rémi", "Rémy", "Séraphin", "Théo", "Ulysse", "Xavier", "Yann", "Zacharie", "Abigaëlle", "Adélie", "Azélie", "Bertille", "Cécilia", "Cerise", "Cloé", "Délia", "Désirée", "Élise", "Éloïse", "Félicité", "Fleur", "Gaëlle", "Gaëtane", "Gwenaëlle", "Héloïse", "Inès", "Jeanne", "Julie", "Laëtitia", "Léa", "Lili", "Lola", "Maëlys", "Margot", "Margaux", "Marielle", "Noëlla", "Ophélie", "Perle", "Rosalie", "Sara", "Théa", "Ursule", "Vérène", "Wanda", "Yasmina", "Yvonne", "Zoé"))(set: $Metallicum_InmateName to (either: ..._NameList))] ] (if: $Metallicum_InmateSpecies is "Procyon" or "Ailurian")[ (if: $Metallicum_InmateGender is "He/Him")[(set: _NameList to (a: "Aart", "Abel", "Adrianus", "Bartel", "Bas", "Boaz", "Broos", "Constant", "Corné", "Damiaan", "Duuk", "Eef", "Evert", "Faas", "Felix", "Floris", "Frans", "Gabriël", "Gerlof", "Hannes", "Harm", "Hendrik", "Herman", "Hieronymus" , "IJsbrand", "Izaäk", "Jeroen", "Joël", "Johannes", "Joos", "Jozef", "Karel", "Kasper", "Keano", "Klaas", "Lammert", "Lennart", "Leo", "Mannes", "Marius", "Nico", "Otto", "Pascal", "Quirijn", "Rutger", "Sieuwerd", "Theo", "Willem" , "Xander", "Yvo"))(set: $Metallicum_InmateName to (either: ..._NameList))] (else-if: $Metallicum_InmateGender is "She/Her")[(set: _NameList to (a: "Aafje", "Adelheid", "Annelien", "Annuska", "Beau", "Berendina", "Carlijn", "Cato", "Debora", "Dieuwke", "Eefje", "Elma", "Femke" , "Fenna", "Gerlinde", "Gratia", "Hedwig", "Heintje", "Ilse", "Inge", "Jana", "Jantje", "Joëlle", "Karlijn", "Katinka", "Lena", "Liesbeth", "Maartje", "Maaike", "Mieke", "Mina", "Natascha", "Natasja", "Noortje", "Petra", "Pleun", "Pien", "Renée", "Rika", "Saar", "Saskia", "Teuna", "Ursula", "Veerle", "Vera", "Wilhelmina", "Willemijn", "Xandra", "Yvonne", "Zoë"))(set: $Metallicum_InmateName to (either: ..._NameList))] (else:)[(set: _NameList to (a: "Aart", "Abel", "Adrianus", "Bartel", "Bas", "Boaz", "Broos", "Constant", "Corné", "Damiaan", "Duuk", "Eef", "Evert", "Faas", "Felix", "Floris", "Frans", "Gabriël", "Gerlof", "Hannes", "Harm", "Hendrik", "Herman", "Hieronymus" , "IJsbrand", "Izaäk", "Jeroen", "Joël", "Johannes", "Joos", "Jozef", "Karel", "Kasper", "Keano", "Klaas", "Lammert", "Lennart", "Leo", "Mannes", "Marius", "Nico", "Otto", "Pascal", "Quirijn", "Rutger", "Sieuwerd", "Theo", "Willem" , "Xander", "Yvo", "Aafje", "Adelheid", "Annelien", "Annuska", "Beau", "Berendina", "Carlijn", "Cato", "Debora", "Dieuwke", "Eefje", "Elma", "Femke" , "Fenna", "Gerlinde", "Gratia", "Hedwig", "Heintje", "Ilse", "Inge", "Jana", "Jantje", "Joëlle", "Karlijn", "Katinka", "Lena", "Liesbeth", "Maartje", "Maaike", "Mieke", "Mina", "Natascha", "Natasja", "Noortje", "Petra", "Pleun", "Pien", "Renée", "Rika", "Saar", "Saskia", "Teuna", "Ursula", "Veerle", "Vera", "Wilhelmina", "Willemijn", "Xandra", "Yvonne", "Zoë"))(set: $Metallicum_InmateName to (either: ..._NameList))] ] (if: $Metallicum_InmateSpecies is "Squirren")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateName to "Placeholder (WIP)")] (if: $Metallicum_InmateSpecies is "Tigrin")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateName to "Placeholder (WIP)")] (if: $Metallicum_InmateSpecies is "Ursine")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateName to "Placeholder (WIP)")] (if: $Metallicum_InmateSpecies is "Dom")[(set: $Metallicum_InmateName to "Placeholder (WIP)")] (if: $Metallicum_InmateGender is "He/Him")[] (else-if: $Metallicum_InmateGender is "She/Her")[] (else:)[] }

{  (set: _SexRNG to (random: 1 , 10)) (if: _SexRNG is <= 4)[ (set: $Metallicum_InmateSex to "Male") (set: $Metallicum_InmateHasBreasts to false) (set: $Metallicum_InmateHasCock to true) (set: $Metallicum_InmateHasPussy to false) (set: $Metallicum_InmateHasBalls to true) ] (else-if: _SexRNG is <= 8)[ (set: $Metallicum_InmateSex to "Female") (set: $Metallicum_InmateHasBreasts to true) (set: $Metallicum_InmateHasCock to false) (set: $Metallicum_InmateHasPussy to true) (set: $Metallicum_InmateHasBalls to false) ] (else-if: _SexRNG is <= 9)[ (set: $Metallicum_InmateSex to "Intersex") (set: $Metallicum_InmateHasBreasts to true) (set: $Metallicum_InmateHasCock to true) (set: $Metallicum_InmateHasPussy to true) (set: $Metallicum_InmateHasBalls to true) ] (else:)[ (set: $Metallicum_InmateSex to "Null") (set: $Metallicum_InmateHasBreasts to false) (set: $Metallicum_InmateHasCock to false) (set: $Metallicum_InmateHasPussy to false) (set: $Metallicum_InmateHasBalls to false) ]  (set: _GenderRNG to (random: 1 , 10)) (if: $Metallicum_InmateSex is "Male")[ (if: _GenderRNG <= 5)[(set: $Metallicum_InmateGender to "He/Him")] (else-if: _GenderRNG <= 9)[(set: $Metallicum_InmateGender to "They/Them")] (else:)[(set: $Metallicum_InmateGender to "She/Her")] ] (else-if: $Metallicum_InmateSex is "Female")[ (if: _GenderRNG <= 5)[(set: $Metallicum_InmateGender to "She/Her")] (else-if: _GenderRNG <= 9)[(set: $Metallicum_InmateGender to "They/Them")] (else:)[(set: $Metallicum_InmateGender to "He/Him")] ] (else-if: $Metallicum_InmateSex is "Intersex")[ (if: _GenderRNG <= 6)[(set: $Metallicum_InmateGender to "They/Them")] (else-if: _GenderRNG <= 8)[(set: $Metallicum_InmateGender to "She/Her")] (else:)[(set: $Metallicum_InmateGender to "He/Him")] ] (else:)[ (if: _GenderRNG <= 6)[(set: $Metallicum_InmateGender to "They/Them")] (else-if: _GenderRNG <= 8)[(set: $Metallicum_InmateGender to "She/Her")] (else:)[(set: $Metallicum_InmateGender to "He/Him")] ] }

<div id="TestingScreen" style="height:500px;width:100%;overflow-y:auto;display: flex;border-color:white">|TestingScreen>[(display: "Metallicum - Test begins")]</div>{ --- |TestingMenu>[] (display: "Metallicum - Reset screen") }

{<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;font-size:200%;"> <tr> <td>(link: "<--")[(if: $Metallicum_InmateNumber is 0)[(set: $Metallicum_InmateNumber to 999999)](else:)[(set: $Metallicum_InmateNumber to it - 1)](goto: "Metallicum - Metallicum - Generate test subject")] Prisoner ID : $Metallicum_InmateNumber (link: "-->")[(if: $Metallicum_InmateNumber is 999999)[(set: $Metallicum_InmateNumber to 0)](else:)[(set: $Metallicum_InmateNumber to it + 1)](goto: "Metallicum - Generate test subject")]</td> </tr> </table> <table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;font-size:100%;"> <tr> <td>Name : $Metallicum_InmateName</td> <td>Height : $Metallicum_InmateHeightFeet"$Metallicum_InmateHeightInches ($Metallicum_InmateHeightCentimetres{}cm)</td> </tr> <tr> <td>Sex : $Metallicum_InmateSex ($Metallicum_InmateGender)</td> <td>Weight: $Metallicum_InmateStartingWeightPounds{}lbs ($Metallicum_InmateStartingWeightKilograms{}kgs)</td> </tr> <tr> <td>Species : $Metallicum_InmateSpecies</td> <td>Breasts : (if: $Metallicum_InmateHasBreasts is true)[Yes](else:)[No]</td> </tr> <tr> <td>Homeworld : $Metallicum_InmateHomeworld</td> <td>Penis : (if: $Metallicum_InmateHasCock is true)[Yes](else:)[No]</td> </tr> <tr> <td>Origin : $Metallicum_InmateOrigin</td> <td>Balls : (if: $Metallicum_InmateHasBalls is true)[Yes](else:)[No]</td> </tr> <tr> <td>Crime : $Metallicum_InmateCrime</td> <td>Pussy : (if: $Metallicum_InmateHasPussy is true)[Yes](else:)[No]</td> </tr> <tr> <td>Sentence : $Metallicum_InmateSentence months</td> <td></td> </tr> </table> <table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Begin test" , "Metallicum - Testing screen")</td> </tr> </table> }

(replace: ?TestingScreen)[> Begin testing, test subject is inmate #$Metallicum_InmateNumber. (if: $Metallicum_InmateHeightFeet < 5)[Due to the test subject's small size, specialised restraints have been deployed. The test subject has been successfully bound, despite continued escape attempts.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateHeight > 7)[Due to the test subject's large size, specialised restraints have been deployed. The test subject has been successfully restrained, despite their excessive strength and continued resistance.]{ }(else:)[The test subject has been successfully restrained, despite continued protests and resistance.] Further testing may now begin. Awaiting user input.]

(replace: ?TestingScreen)[> Use dildo { }(if: $Metallicum_Test_LastBodyPart is "Mouth")[{ (set: $Metallicum_Test_WillPower to it - 5) (set: $Metallicum_Test_Lust to it + 10) }(if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInMouth is "")[From above the test subject, a metallic piston swings down. Affixed to the end of it is a thin, firm-looking dildo. Before they can protest, the thin silicon cock has already pushed past their lips. It quickly builds up to a brutal rhythm, making them gag as it pumps down their throat. (set: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInMouth to "Dildo")]{ (else-if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInMouth is "Dildo")[The silicone cock pistoning in and out of their throat continues to make them gag, with no signs of slowing down.] }(else:)[The (lowercase:$Metallicum_Test_ItemInMouth) is pulled from the test subject's aching throat. A string of saliva briefly connects the toy and their lips before the new silicone replica takes its place. They gag as it builds into an immediate, intense rhythm. (set: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInMouth to "Dildo")]]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_Test_LastBodyPart is "Ass")[{ (set: $Metallicum_Test_WillPower to it - 5) (set: $Metallicum_Test_Lust to it + 10) }(if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInAss is "")[A thick metallic piston swings down from the ceiling. Attached to its end is a slender silicon replica of a humanoid cock. After a few moments of adjustment, it pushes into the test subject's unguarded hole. They let out a sharp gasp as it begins rapidly slamming into them, sending their body and restraints shuddering beneath each thrust. (set: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInAss to "Dildo")]{ (else-if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInAss is "Dildo")[The thin silicone dildo in the test subject's ass continues to speedily pump past their hole. It's fucking them so quickly and unrelentingly that their entire body is shuddering beneath each movement.] }(else:)[The (lowercase: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInAss) occupying the test subject's ass is replaced with a thin, silicone dildo. They're taken off guard when the slender replica cock pushes into their hole and immediately begins building up to an unyielding, overly-fast rhythm. (set: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInAss to "Dildo")]]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_Test_LastBodyPart is "Pussy")[{ (set: $Metallicum_Test_WillPower to it - 5) (set: $Metallicum_Test_Lust to it + 10) }(if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInPussy is "")[From the ceiling, a hydraulic arm descends. Affixed to its end is a standard-looking dildo. The hydraulic arm hisses softly as it adjusts its position, lowering its tip between the test subject's legs. Suddenly, and without warning, it pushes the dildo into their waiting cunt, immediately building into a quick rhythm. The test subject can do little but whimper and whine in response. (set: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInPussy to "Dildo")]{ (else-if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInPussy is "Dildo")[A slender, silicone dildo continues rapidly pumping into their pussy.] }(else:)[The (lowercase: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInPussy) pulls from the test subject's well-used womanhood and is quickly replaced with a slender, standard-looking dildo. They're taken off guard and left whimpering when, without warning, the new toy begins to rapidly pump in and out of them. (set: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInPussy to "Dildo")]]{ }(display: "Metallicum - Item status")]

(replace: ?TestingScreen)[> Use knotted dildo { }(if: $Metallicum_Test_LastBodyPart is "Mouth")[{ (set: $Metallicum_Test_WillPower to it - 5) (set: $Metallicum_Test_Lust to it + 10) }(if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInMouth is "")[A metallic arm wielding a girthy, knotted dildo reaches down from the ceiling. It takes a few moments to align with the test subject's unwilling mouth before quickly darting past their lips. You watch from the other side of the glass as the silicon knot bulges their cheeks, and they begin to gag. (set: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInMouth to "Knotted dildo")]{ (else-if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInMouth is "Knotted dildo")[A thick, knotted dildo continues to bulge the test subject's cheeks.] }(else:)[The (lowercase: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInMouth) is pulled sloppily from the test subject's aching throat. Their relief is short-lived, however, when it's replaced by a girthy replica of a knotted canine cock instead. (set: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInMouth to "Knotted dildo")]]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_Test_LastBodyPart is "Ass")[{ (set: $Metallicum_Test_WillPower to it - 5) (set: $Metallicum_Test_Lust to it + 10) }(if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInAss is "")[A hydraulic arm reaches down from the ceiling. In its grip, there's a silicone replica of a girthy, canine cock. With mechanical precision, the tip of the knotted cock is soon pushing against the test subject's hole. The test subject squirms as the painfully-thick dildo begins to squash inside them, with no regard given for their wellbeing. (set: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInAss to "Knotted dildo")]{ (else-if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInAss is "Knotted dildo")[A girthy, canine dildo continues squashing into the test subject's hole. The knot, in particular, stretches them painfully wide, and from your side of the one-way glass, you wince at the sight of their soon-to-be-ruined hole.] }(else:)[The (lowercase: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInAss) is pulled from the test subject's well-used rear. Before they have a chance to relax, however, a girthy canine dildo is pushed inside them instead. The overwhelming thickness of the toy stretches them wide and leaves them with small tears in their eyes. (set: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInAss to "Knotted dildo")]]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_Test_LastBodyPart is "Pussy")[{ (set: $Metallicum_Test_WillPower to it - 5) (set: $Metallicum_Test_Lust to it + 10) }(if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInPussy is "")[A metallic arm wielding a thick, knotted dildo swings down from the ceiling. The test subject has only a moment to react before it's pushed between their legs, stretching their pussy uncomfortably wide. You're left wincing as you watch from the observation room, and doubt that many lovers will ever satisfy them again. (set: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInPussy to "Knotted dildo")]{ (else-if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInPussy is "Knotted dildo")[The knotted dildo buried in the test subject's pussy continues to stretch them uncomfortably wide. ] }(else:)[The (lowercase: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInPussy) is pulled from the test subject's slit, only to be replaced with a substantially more thick, knotted dildo. They have only a moment to reach before it's inserted, stretching them so wide that you doubt an average lover will ever satisfy them again. (set: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInPussy to "Knotted dildo")]]{ }(display: "Metallicum - Item status")]

(replace: ?TestingScreen)[> Use horsecock dildo { }(if: $Metallicum_Test_LastBodyPart is "Mouth")[{ (set: $Metallicum_Test_WillPower to it - 5) (set: $Metallicum_Test_Lust to it + 10) }(if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInMouth is "")[The test subject watches, terrified, as a gigantic replica horsecock swings down from the ceiling. The tip pushes past their lips before they can react or protest. They gag and splutter as inch after inch pushes past their lips, quickly beginning to bulge their neck. (set: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInMouth to "Horsecock dildo")]{ (else-if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInMouth is "Horsecock dildo")[A horsecock dildo continues to bulge the test subject's neck. Despite their best efforts, there's no getting used to something so big.] }(else:)[The (lowercase: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInMouth) is pulled from the test subject's gasping mouth. Unfortunately for them, they're soon faced with the horsecock dildo that's replacing it. They gag and whine as over a foot of silicon pushes past their lips and begins bulging their throat. (set: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInMouth to "Horsecock dildo")]]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_Test_LastBodyPart is "Ass")[{ (set: $Metallicum_Test_WillPower to it - 15) (set: $Metallicum_Test_Lust to it + 30) }(if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInAss is "")[The test subject begins pleading with you as a piston descends from the ceiling, the tip of which is equipped with a foot-long replica horsecock dildo. (set: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInAss to "Horsecock dildo")]{ (else-if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInAss is "Horsecock dildo")[The thick horsecock dildo continues to rearrange the test subject's insides. At the apex of each thrust, their stomach bulges obscenely, much to their shock and horror.] }(else:)[The (lowercase: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInAss) in the player's ass is replaced with a thick horsecock dildo. The test subject cries out as an entire foot of silicon squashes into their asshole and begins rearranging their insides. (set: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInAss to "Horsecock dildo")]]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_Test_LastBodyPart is "Pussy")[{ (set: $Metallicum_Test_WillPower to it - 5) (set: $Metallicum_Test_Lust to it + 10) }(if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInPussy is "")[The test subject watches in horror as a replica horse cock descends from the ceiling. It's attached to a powerful-looking piston, more than capable of deserving the thrusting potential that the actual owner of such a cock might produce. Soon, the dildo is smashing into their pussy, wrecking their insides, and bulging them to an almost comical degree. (set: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInPussy to "Horsecock dildo")]{ (else-if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInPussy is "Horsecock dildo")[A huge horsecock dildo continues ploughing the test subject's pussy, leaving them completely unable to think.] }(else:)[The (lowercase: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInPussy) pumping into the test subject's pussy is suddenly retracted. They look up in sheer terror as a towering, massive, replica horse cock descends from the ceiling. They plead weakly as the tip presses to their slit, but their begging is ignored. A moment later, more than half the dildo is buried in their pussy, bulging their middle and leaving them shaking in overwhelmed agony. (set: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInPussy to "Horsecock dildo")]]{ }(display: "Metallicum - Item status")]

{(set: $Metallicum_InmateNumber to (random: 000000 , 999999)) }

(replace: ?TestingScreen)[> Scan test subject Inmate #$Metallicum_InmateNumber - $Metallicum_InmateSpecies - Mental integrity : { (if: $Metallicum_Test_WillPower > 90)[(Stable)] (else-if: $Metallicum_Test_WillPower > 50)[(Fluctuating)] (else-if: $Metallicum_Test_WillPower > 30)[(Close to failure)] (else:)[(Mind-Broken)]} Willpower : $Metallicum_Test_WillPower% Lust : $Metallicum_Test_Lust% (if: $Metallicum_InmateKnockedUp is "DreadKnot")[The test subject is pregnant! ($Metallicum_InmateKnockedUp) ]{ }(if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemOnHead is not "")[Inmate currently has a (lowercase:$Metallicum_Test_ItemOnHead) on their head. ]{ }(if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInMouth is "DreadKnot")[Currently, the subject is gagging, and spluttering as over a foot of knotted cock bulges their throat.<br><br>](else-if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInMouth is not "")[Inmate currently has a (lowercase:$Metallicum_Test_ItemInMouth) in their mouth. ]{ }(if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInAss is "DreadKnot")[Currently, the subject's guts are being rearranged by a huge, knotted cock, wielded by the eponymous "DreadKnot".<br><br>](else-if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInAss is not "")[Inmate currently has a (lowercase:$Metallicum_Test_ItemInAss) in their ass. ]{ }(if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInPussy is "DreadKnot")[Currently, a foot-long knotted cock is tenderising the subject's womanhood, threatening to flood their womb and knock them up at any moment.<br><br>](else-if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInPussy is not "")[Inmate currently has a (lowercase:$Metallicum_Test_ItemInPussy) in their pussy. ]{ }(display: "Metallicum - Scan - WeightDescriptor"){ }{ }(if: $Metallicum_InmateHasBreasts is true)(display: "Metallicum - Scan - BreastDescriptor"){ }{ }(if: $Metallicum_InmateHasCock is true)[(display: "Metallicum - Scan - CockDescriptor"){ }]{ }(if: $Metallicum_InmateHasBalls is true)[(display: "Metallicum - Scan - BallDescriptor"){ }]]

(replace: ?TestingScreen)[> Remove toys (if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInMouth is "" and $Metallicum_Test_ItemInAss is "" and $Metallicum_Test_ItemInPussy is "")[ERROR : There are no toys to remove.]{ }(else:)[{ }(if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInMouth is "Dildo")[The dildo smacking past the test subject's lips suddenly pulls from their throat. They're left coughing and wincing as it's taken away, looking distrustfully up to the ceiling, expecting a larger toy to replace it. (set: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInMouth to "")(set: $Metallicum_Test_LastBodyPart to "")]{ }(if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInMouth is "Knotted dildo")[The test subject cries out as the knotted dildo is pulled from their throat, getting briefly stuck behind their teeth. They whimper softly, no doubt wishing they could rub their sore jaw. (set: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInMouth to "")(set: $Metallicum_Test_LastBodyPart to "")]{ }(if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInMouth is "Horsecock dildo")[The test subject gags and splutters as over a foot of silicon pulls from their wrecked throat. Strings of saliva connect the inmate's gasping mouth to the gigantic slab of synthetic cock they were just choking on. (set: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInMouth to "")(set: $Metallicum_Test_LastBodyPart to "")]{ }(if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInAss is "Dildo")[<br> The slender silicone dildo easily pulls from the test subject's behind. They tense up, perhaps expecting the toy to slam back in, and seem relieved when the extracted dildo ascends towards a storage compartment on the ceiling. You watch from behind the one-way glass as the test subject's hole continues to spasm; long after the intruding silicone is removed. (set: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInAss to "")(set: $Metallicum_Test_LastBodyPart to "")]{ }(if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInAss is "Knotted dildo")[<br> The piston begins to withdraw the knotted toy. However, there's a problem. The test subject's spasming hole refuses to release the canine dildo's knot. There's loud whirring from the piston, the test subject cries out in confused agony, and a moment later, the silicone toy finally pulls free with an uncomfortably loud "Pop!". You wince a the sight of the test subject's gaping hole, feeling lucky that it wasn't you for once. (set: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInAss to "")(set: $Metallicum_Test_LastBodyPart to "")]{ }(if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInAss is "Horsecock dildo")[<br> The piston begins to retract, taking the gigantic horsecock dildo with it. You watch as the foot-long silicone slowly pulls from the test subject's hole. Their bulging stomach gradually falls as the silicone pulls from their guts, and they watch it with a mixture of relief and intense shame. When the tip of the dildo finally falls from their wrecked ass, they're left gaping and breathless. (set: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInAss to "")(set: $Metallicum_Test_LastBodyPart to "")]{ }(if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInPussy is "Dildo")[<br> The slender humanoid dildo pounding the subject's pussy suddenly disengages, pulling from them and retracting into the ceiling. (set: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInPussy to "")(set: $Metallicum_Test_LastBodyPart to "")]{ }(if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInPussy is "Knotted dildo")[<br> The canine cock in the subject's pussy is, with considerable difficulty, tugged free. They cry out as the silicon knot stretches them wide one final time on its way out. (set: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInPussy to "")(set: $Metallicum_Test_LastBodyPart to "")]{ }(if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInPussy is "Horsecock dildo")[<br> The faux horse cock ploughing the subject's pussy is removed. You watch in awe as inch after inch of silicone pulls from their womb, not quite believing that so much was stuffed inside them. (set: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInPussy to "")(set: $Metallicum_Test_LastBodyPart to "")]]]

(replace: ?TestingMenu)[{ }{<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link: "Dildo")[(set: $Metallicum_Test_LastItem to "Dildo")(display: "Metallicum - Penetration options")]</td> <td>(link: "Knotted dildo")[(set: $Metallicum_Test_LastItem to "Knotted dildo")(display: "Metallicum - Penetration options")]</td> <td>(link: "Horsecock dildo")[(set: $Metallicum_Test_LastItem to "Horsecock dildo")(display: "Metallicum - Penetration options")]</td> </tr> <tr> <td>(link: "Remove toys")[(display: "Metallicum - Remove toys")(display: "Metallicum - Reset screen")]</td> <td>(link: "Back")[(display: "Metallicum - Reset screen")]</td> <td></td> </tr> </table> }]

(replace: ?TestingMenu)[{ }{<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-repeat: "Scan")[(display: "Metallicum - Reset screen")(display: "Metallicum - Scan")]</td> <td>(link-repeat: "Wait")[(display: "Metallicum - Reset screen")(display: "Metallicum - Wait")]</td> <td>(link-repeat: "Contracts")[(display: "Metallicum - Contracts")]</td> </tr> <tr> <td>(link-repeat: "(Toys)")[(display: "Metallicum - Toy menu")]</td> <td>(link-repeat: "(Substances)")[(display: "Metallicum - Substance menu")]</td> <td>(link-repeat: "(Devices)")[(display: "Metallicum - Device menu")]</td> </tr> <tr> <td>(link-repeat: "(Creatures)")[(display: "Metallicum - Creatures menu")]</td> <td>(link-repeat: "Finish test")[(goto: "Metallicum - Inmate fates")]</td> <td></td> </tr> </table> (if: $Metallicum_Test_WillPower < 0)[(set: $Metallicum_Test_WillPower to 0)] (if: $Metallicum_Test_Lust >= 100)[(set: $Metallicum_Test_Lust to 100)] }]

(if: $Metallicum_BeenBefore is false)[You type in the coordinates to Sciurus Metallicum, the first Squirren homeworld. Soon, you're drifting in orbit around the planet. From the bridge of your ship, you stare down at the planet's surface, horrified by what you see. The entire planet is blanketed in thick, rolling storms. There's not a single ocean or forest visible, only the dark grey of metals and the washed-out brown of poisoned soil. Despite your reservations, you come in for a landing. Your ship shudders as it struggles to pierce the excessive cloud coverage and navigate in the polluted atmosphere. "Slut Captain." your ship suddenly chimes. "Please be advised that the atmosphere on the surface is not breathable." "Do we have any hazmat gear aboard?" you ask, wondering if perhaps some filters or gas masks would work. There's a whirring for a few moments. No doubt, your ship is running a second atmospheric analysis. "No." your ship unambiguously responds. "Avoid exposure by any means." You slump back in your chair. Perhaps exploring this world won't be possible after all... As you reach for the controls, fully intending to abandon your exploration of the planet, you're suddenly hailed from the planet's surface. "Attention, tresspasser. Land immediately at these coordinates, or we will open fire." the voice says. Their tone is serious and unflinching, and you can immediately tell that their threat is genuine. Filled with dread, you do as the voice commands. You proceed down to the planet's surface, avoiding reaching spires of metal, the billowing smoke from endless fires, and touch down on a landing pad jutting from the side of a building. No later than you land, clamps engage and hold your ship in place. The entire landing pad begins to retract into the building, and soon you're in a sealed hangar. Over comms, there's that same voice. "Come out with hands up, or we //will// open fire," it says, just as threateningly as before. You do as you're told, deploying your exit ramp and walking down into the confines of the hangar. You're met by a dozen or so Squirren, clad in cobbled-together armour, pointing equally jury-rigged rifles at you. One of the Squirren steps forward, removing their helmet. Scarred claw marks zig-zag across their face, and one of their ears appears to have a bullet hole through it. "I am Warden Ingólfur of Metallicum Prison #0451. State your business or face the consequences." "I'm just an explorer!" you blurt out. Several of the guards bristle as you speak, adjusting their aim. "Scan 'im," the Warden says, and one of the guards lowers their rifle. They approach you with a handheld scanner, taking a moment to check and record your biometrics. "Clean slate," they eventually announce. The atmosphere in the room calms by a considerable margin. "At ease." the Warden then says, and all guards lower their rifles. "Just to be clear, pal, you're trying to "explore" a prison world." "The entire planet?!" you blurt out, incredulous. "Yep." the Warden replies, taking a moment to light a cigarette. "Just be glad you didn't try to land where the //really// fucked up criminals are. Lawmen would've shot you straight out of the sky." "I guess I'll be on my way then," you say, embarrassed by this entire exchange. You turn, only for the scarred squirrel to grab your wrist. "Listen, since you're here... would you be interested in helping us out?" "What do you mean by 'helping you out'?" you respond. "Well, we have a research division, see?" he begins. "Our inmates can reduce their sentences by participating in testing. Unfortunately, we have a real shortage of researchers at the moment. So if you wanted to... y'know, step into the test area and press buttons to your heart's content, you'd be doing me, the rest of my boys, and the lucky inmate a big favour, you follow me?" --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Begin testing->Metallicum - Generate test subject]]</td> <td>[[Politely decline->Leave Metallicum]]</td> </tr> </table> (set: $Metallicum_Test_BeenBefore to true)}]{ }(else:)[You return to the poisoned prison world of Sciurus Metallicum. As you enter orbit, you receive a comms request from the Warden. "Apologies, we're only accepting landing requests from employees and volunteers," he tells you. "I can only clear you for landing if you're here to conduct more tests." --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Continue testing->Metallicum - Generate test subject]]</td> <td>[[Never mind->Leave Metallicum]]</td> </tr> </table>}]

You politely decline, much to the Warden's disappointment. Since there's nothing else you're allowed to do in the high-security prison, he immediately has you escorted back to your ship. Soon, you're taking off. Your ship struggles to penetrate the thick, smoky atmosphere, but you eventually manage to escape into orbit. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto:"Continue your day" , "Ship - Hub")</td> </tr> </table>}

When the test concludes, the Warden meets you for an after-action report. (if: $Metallicum_Test_CumCount is 0)[The Warden taps away at his tablet before looking up at you. "Damn, you didn't even let them cum? That's rough..."]{ }(else:)[(if: $Metallicum_Test_CumCount is 1)[The Warden taps away at his tablet, nodding slightly. "Good work. Nice of you to let them cum, even if it was only the one time." he says.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_Test_CumCount <= 3)[The Warden taps away at his handheld device, a grin creeping across his face. "Nice work. I can see here that you made them cum $Metallicum_Test_CumCount times," he says. "They'll be a lot easier to manage now they're good and satisfied."]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_Test_CumCount <= 6)[The warden taps away at his tablet with a huge grin on his face. "Damn, you really milked them for all they're worth, didn't you?" he asks. "Says here you made them cum $Metallicum_Test_CumCount times."]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_Test_CumCount <= 10)[The Warden taps away at his tablet before letting out an exaggerated whistle. "Damn, kid!" he yells. You made the poor inmate cum $Metallicum_Test_CumCount times? That's brutal."]{ }(else:)[The Warden stares down at his tablet, a frown forming on his face. He taps at the screen a few times, growing frustrated. "Damn thing must be bugging out," he says. "Says you made the inmate cum $Metallicum_Test_CumCount times. That can't be right..." "Um..." you start, but immediately trail off. The Warden looks up at you, eyes going wide, then immediately puts in a call for the last test subject to be taken to the infirmary.] {(set: _MoneyEarned to $Metallicum_Test_CumCount * 10) }//You receive extra payment for making the test subject cum! _MoneyEarned Credits have been deposited into your account!//] (if: $Metallicum_Test_WillPower > 90)["Huh, I was expecting you to tire them out a little more than that." he tells you, with disappointment in his voice.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_Test_WillPower > 50)["Good job, you really knocked some of the fight out of them. It'll make them way easier for my boys to handle." he tells you, sounding satisfied.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_Test_WillPower > 30)["Damn, you really did a number on them, huh?" he asks you. "Looks like they'll be a model inmate for a while."]{ }(else:)["Holy shit, they're drooling everywhere." the Warden says, shocked, his authoritative veneer giving way to genuine surprise. Guess we won't be having any more problems with this inmate..."] (if: $Metallicum_ContractComplete is false)[Soon, he's finished listing off all the statistics. With a final tap on his tablet, he sends your payment.]{ }(else:)[Soon, he's listing off all of the statistics. Suddenly, he grins. "Ah, I see you completed one of those contracts. I'm sure the buyer will be very happy. Here are a few extra credits, for your trouble."] "So... Fancy testing another inmate?" he asks with a grin. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link: "Test another inmate")[(set: $Credits to it + 10 * $Metallicum_Test_CumCount)(goto: "Metallicum - Generate test subject")]</td> <td>(link: "Decline")[(set: $Credits to it + 10 * $Metallicum_Test_CumCount)(goto: "Leave Metallicum")]</td> </tr> </table>}

{(if: $Build_Public is false)[<img class="center" style="width:30%" 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" class="center">]}

{(if: $Build_Public is false)[<img class="center" style="width:30%" src="data:image/png;base64,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" class="center">]}

(replace: ?TestingMenu)[{ }{<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(if: $Metallicum_InmateMouthReserved is true)[~~Mouth~~](else:)[(link-repeat: "Mouth")[(set: $Metallicum_Test_LastBodyPart to "Mouth")(display: "Metallicum - " + $Metallicum_Test_LastItem)]]</td> <td>(if: $Metallicum_InmateAssReserved is true)[~~Ass~~](else:)[(link-repeat: "Ass")[(set: $Metallicum_Test_LastBodyPart to "Ass")(display: "Metallicum - " + $Metallicum_Test_LastItem)]]</td> <td>(if: $Metallicum_InmatePussyReserved is true)[~~Pussy~~](else:)[(if: $Metallicum_InmateHasPussy)[(link-repeat: "Pussy")[(set: $Metallicum_Test_LastBodyPart to "Pussy")(display: "Metallicum - " + $Metallicum_Test_LastItem)]](else:)[~~Pussy~~]]</td> </tr> <tr> <td></td> <td>(link-repeat: "Back")[(display: "Metallicum - Reset screen")]</td> <td></td> </tr> </table> }]

{ }(if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemOnHead is "Hypnosis visor" and $Metallicum_Test_LastBodyPart is not "Head")[<br> The test subject is unusually relaxed, their restraints doing barely any work. They're drooling, slurring out confused half-sentences as the helmet they're wearing beams hypnotic suggestions, colourful spirals, and synapse-dampening lights into their brain.{ (set: $Metallicum_Test_WillPower to it - 5) (set: $Metallicum_Test_Lust to it + 10)}]{  }(if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInMouth is "Dildo" and $Metallicum_Test_LastBodyPart is not "Mouth")[<br> The dildo rapidly pumping past their lips continues to do so, filling the room with constant, wet slapping and gagging noises.{ (set: $Metallicum_Test_WillPower to it - 2) (set: $Metallicum_Test_Lust to it + 4)}]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInMouth is "Knotted dildo" and $Metallicum_Test_LastBodyPart is not "Mouth")[<br> A canine dildo is currently knotted behind their teeth, leaving them to gag and squirm, their cheeks bulging from the girthy silicone intrusion.{ (set: $Metallicum_Test_WillPower to it - 5) (set: $Metallicum_Test_Lust to it + 10)}]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInMouth is "Horsecock dildo" and $Metallicum_Test_LastBodyPart is not "Mouth")[<br> An equine dildo is bulging their neck, and the silhouette of the silicone cock is visible as it repeatedly squashes down their throat.{ (set: $Metallicum_Test_WillPower to it - 6) (set: $Metallicum_Test_Lust to it + 12)}]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInMouth is "DreadKnot" and $Metallicum_Test_LastBodyPart is not "Mouth")[<br> Obscene, wet slapping noises fill the test chamber as the DreadKnot continues slamming down the poor test subject's throat.{ (set: $Metallicum_Test_WillPower to it - 10) (set: $Metallicum_Test_Lust to it + 3) (set: $Metallicum_DreadKnot_Lust to it + 15) }(if: $Metallicum_DreadKnot_Lust > 100)[(set: $Metallicum_DreadKnot_Lust to 0)(set: $Metallicum_InmateMouthReserved to false)(set: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInMouth to "")(set: $Metallicum_ActiveCreature to "")<br><br>Suddenly, the DreadKnot tenses up. With a howl that practically shakes the test chamber, he squashes, squeezes and forces his knot behind the subject's teeth. They let out an agonised whimper as their jaw is pried painfully wide and their neck bulges to an obscene degree. You hear the subject gagging and spluttering around their lover's throbbing dick. You watch as the DreadKnot's cock throbs in their throat, and their stomach begins to bulge, bloated almost to bursting with their forceful lover's seed. Excess cum spills from the subject's mouth and nose, which is currently buried in the much larger man's sheath. Eventually, just as you're beginning to worry about the subject drowning beneath him, he finally tugs his knot from their throat. The wet squelch this action produces sends a shiver up your spine. With no further interest, the DreadKnot lumbers out of the test chamber and back into their own. The subject is left behind, gagging and coughing up the stranger's cum.]]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInMouth is "Tentacle" and $Metallicum_Test_LastBodyPart is not "Mouth")[<br> The subject gags as tentacles continue to hammer down their throat.{ (set: $Metallicum_Test_WillPower to it - 5) (set: $Metallicum_Test_Lust to it + 5) }]{  }(if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInPussy is "Dildo" and $Metallicum_Test_LastBodyPart is not "Pussy")[<br> The test subject's pussy is currently being pumped into by a slender, humanoid dildo. The thrusts are so rough and rapid that they have no time to relax or regain their composure.{ (set: $Metallicum_Test_WillPower to it - 1) (set: $Metallicum_Test_Lust to it + 2)}]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInPussy is "Knotted dildo" and $Metallicum_Test_LastBodyPart is not "Pussy")[<br> The test subject's pussy is enduring repeated intrusions by a fatty, thick canine dildo. The knot stretches them so wide that you doubt they'll ever seek out a non-knotted lover again.{ (set: $Metallicum_Test_WillPower to it - 4) (set: $Metallicum_Test_Lust to it + 8)}]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInPussy is "Horsecock dildo" and $Metallicum_Test_LastBodyPart is not "Pussy")[<br> The test subject's pussy is currently being jackhammered into by a giant, equine dildo. Each thrust that batters into their poor womb looks more brutal than the last.{ (set: $Metallicum_Test_WillPower to it - 5) (set: $Metallicum_Test_Lust to it + 10)}]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInPussy is "DreadKnot" and $Metallicum_Test_LastBodyPart is not "Pussy")[<br> A combination of wet slapping and muffled whimpers fill the test chamber as the DreadKnot continues trying to impregnate the unwilling test subject.{ (set: $Metallicum_Test_WillPower to it - 7) (set: $Metallicum_Test_Lust to it + 10) (set: $Metallicum_DreadKnot_Lust to it + 15) }(if: $Metallicum_DreadKnot_Lust > 100)[(set: $Metallicum_DreadKnot_Lust to 0)(set: $Metallicum_InmatePussyReserved to false)(set: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInPussy to "")(set: $Metallicum_ActiveCreature to "")<br><br>Suddenly, the DreadKnot begins to pound at the subject's pussy even more enthusiastically. Moments later, they're cramming their entire melon-sized knot into the subject's slit. They let out a silent scream as he stretches them wider than ever before, before tensing up and flooding their insides with what you can only imagine being litres upon litres of his steaming hot cum. He pumps such a large volume of seed into the subject's pussy that their lower stomach begins to bulge and slosh. The excess spurts out of their abused womanhood and down to the floor. A nearby panel flashes, drawing your attention to a notification that indicates ''the test subject has just been successfully impregnated''. When a speaker in the test chamber announces this, the test subject looks utterly horrified. The DreadKnot, on the other hand, gives them a satisfied grin. They hook their finger beneath the subject's chin, licking their lips. "Thanks for carryin' my pups, slut", he says moments before unceremoniously lumbering back into his own test chamber. (set: $Metallicum_InmateKnockedUp to "DreadKnot")]]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInPussy is "Tentacle" and $Metallicum_Test_LastBodyPart is not "Pussy")[<br> A bundle of tentacles continue writhing around in the subject's womb.{ (set: $Metallicum_Test_WillPower to it - 5) (set: $Metallicum_Test_Lust to it + 5) }]{  }(if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInAss is "Dildo" and $Metallicum_Test_LastBodyPart is not "Ass")[<br> A slender dildo is pumping in and out of their asshole at a truly terrifying speed. It's fucking them so quickly that they're practically vibrating.{ (set: $Metallicum_Test_WillPower to it - 1) (set: $Metallicum_Test_Lust to it + 2)}]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInAss is "Knotted dildo" and $Metallicum_Test_LastBodyPart is not "Ass")[<br> A knotted dildo is repeatedly stretching their asshole wide before pulling from them with an obscenely loud "Pop!". In between insertions, you can see that their hole is now gaping.{ (set: $Metallicum_Test_WillPower to it - 4) (set: $Metallicum_Test_Lust to it + 8)}]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInAss is "Horsecock dildo" and $Metallicum_Test_LastBodyPart is not "Ass")[<br> An equine dildo is repeatedly hammering into their bowels, rearranging their insides and bulging their stomach to a painful-looking degree.{ (set: $Metallicum_Test_WillPower to it - 5) (set: $Metallicum_Test_Lust to it + 10)}]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInAss is "DreadKnot" and $Metallicum_Test_LastBodyPart is not "Ass")[<br> The DreadKnot continues rearranging the test subject's guts, smashing into their ass with enough force to elicit some truly obscene noises.{ (set: $Metallicum_Test_WillPower to it - 7) (set: $Metallicum_Test_Lust to it + 10) (set: $Metallicum_DreadKnot_Lust to it + 15) }(if: $Metallicum_DreadKnot_Lust > 100)[(set: $Metallicum_DreadKnot_Lust to 0)(set: $Metallicum_InmateAssReserved to false)(set: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInAss to "")(set: $Metallicum_ActiveCreature to "")<br><br>With a grunt, the DreadKnot suddenly forces their melon-sized knot into the subject's poor hole. They let out a scream, begging and pleading as their insides squirm around the intruding, throbbing knot that's stretching them wide. Their stomach begins to bulge, and the DreadKnot's tongue lolls from his mouth. He's climaxing; that much is obvious. You watch, red-faced, as the subject's stomach bloats and sloshes, filled almost to bursting with the faux-werewolf's cum. When he's done, the overproductive Lunisian simply takes a moment to pant and gasp, staring down at the subject's inflated belly with utter satisfaction. He pulls from the subject's ruined asshole with a sound that reminds you of a champagne bottle being uncorked. He then steps to the side, braces a hand on the subject's cum-inflated belly, and pushes sharply. You're forced to watch, red-faced, as a waterfall of cum gushes from the subject's gaping hole, and all the while, the DreadKnot grins towards the one-way glass, knowing that you're watching. "This could be you, slut," he tells you, despite not even knowing what you look like. You feel your heart racing, much to your embarrassment. Once the torrent dissipates, having flooded the entire test chamber floor, the DreadKnot lumbers back to his own chamber, satisfied with a job well done.]]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInAss is "Tentacle" and $Metallicum_Test_LastBodyPart is not "Ass")[<br> Tentacles continue to explore the subject's guts. You can watch the intruders as they bulge their stomach.{ (set: $Metallicum_Test_WillPower to it - 5) (set: $Metallicum_Test_Lust to it + 5) }]{  }(if: $Metallicum_ActiveCreature is "Living latex")[<br> The living latex ripples and writhes across the subject's skin, especially around their most sensitive areas. Their nipples, ass and between their legs appear to be particularly juicy targets for the curious, gooey creature. Occasionally, the glowing padlock symbol sitting between the subject's legs flashes, accompanied by a desperate, muffled moan.]{  }(if: $Metallicum_Test_Lust >= 100 and $Metallicum_ActiveCreature is not "Living latex")[(set: $Metallicum_Test_CumCount to it + 1)(set: $Metallicum_Test_Lust to 0){ }(if: $Metallicum_InmateHasCock)[<br> The test subject visibly grits their teeth, gasping sharply as they reach climax. They shudder and squirm against their restraints as they shoot several thick loads over themselves!]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateHasPussy)[<br> The test subject struggles against their restraints for a moment, before shuddering and letting out a truly scandalous moan. Wetness drips from between the test subject's legs as they experience a mind-numbing orgasm!]{ }(else:)[<br> The test subject tenses up, moaning and struggling wildly against their restraints. Although they've not got the equipment to cum, you can tell that they're experiencing an intense orgasm!]]

(replace: ?TestingMenu)[{ }{<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link: "Gene mods")[(display: "Metallicum - Gene mods")]</td> <td>(link: "Chems")[(display: "Metallicum - Chems")]</td> <td></td> </tr> <tr> <td></td> <td>(link: "Back")[(display: "Metallicum - Reset screen")]</td> <td></td> </tr> </table>  }]

(replace: ?TestingMenu)[{ }{<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(if: $Metallicum_InmateHasBreasts is false)[(link-repeat: "Add breasts")[(display: "Metallicum - Add breasts")]](else:)[~~Add breasts~~]</td> <td>(if: $Metallicum_InmateHasCock is false)[(link-repeat: "Add penis")[(display: "Metallicum - Add penis")]](else:)[~~Add penis~~]</td> <td>(if: $Metallicum_InmateHasBalls is false)[(link-repeat: "Add balls")[(display: "Metallicum - Add balls")]](else:)[~~Add balls~~]</td> </tr> <tr> <td>(if: $Metallicum_InmateHasPussy is false)[(link-repeat: "Add pussy")[(display: "Metallicum - Add pussy")]](else:)[~~Add pussy~~]</td> <td>(link-repeat: "Nullify")[(display: "Metallicum - Nullify")]</td> <td>(link-repeat: "InstaCal pill")[(display: "Metallicum - InstaCal pill")]</td> </tr> <tr> <td></td> <td>(link-repeat: "Back")[(display: "Metallicum - Reset screen")]</td> <td></td> </tr> </table> }]

(replace: ?TestingScreen)[> Add breasts A metal arm flips down from the ceiling, quickly pricking the test subject's chest with a purple syringe.{ (set: $Metallicum_Test_LastBodyPart to "")} Within just a few moments, fatty, soft flesh grows from their chest. Soon they have a brand-new pair of breasts, and quite large ones at that. (set: $Metallicum_InmateHasBreasts to true){ }(display: "Metallicum - Gene mods")]

(replace: ?TestingScreen)[> Add penis A metallic arm pricks the subject's arm with a syringe full of blue liquid. The effects are immediate and pronounced.{ (set: $Metallicum_Test_LastBodyPart to "")} They can only watch in a mixture of surprise and discomfort as a brand-new cock grows from their crotch within just a few seconds. It's surprisingly big, girthy and thick. Blood surges to their new appendage, and it's soon fully erect and throbbing. (set: $Metallicum_InmateHasCock to true){ }(display: "Metallicum - Gene mods")]

(replace: ?TestingScreen)[> Add balls A metallic arm lowers from the ceiling, pricking the subject's thigh with a dark blue syringe.{ (set: $Metallicum_Test_LastBodyPart to "")} You watch as a pair of balls grow from the test subject's crotch. They look uncomfortably heavy and full. You can almost hear them sloshing from the observation room. (set: $Metallicum_InmateHasBalls to true){ }(display: "Metallicum - Gene mods")]

(replace: ?TestingScreen)[> Add pussy A metal arm folds down from the ceiling, pushing a syringe full of pink liquid into the test subject's thick.{ (set: $Metallicum_Test_LastBodyPart to "")} Within moments, the flesh between their legs is transformed into a brand-new slit. There are telltale signs of dampness, confirming to any onlooker that they must already be enjoying their new pussy, at least in secret. (set: $Metallicum_InmateHasPussy to true){ }(display: "Metallicum - Gene mods")]

(replace: ?TestingScreen)[> Nullify test subject A metallic arm wielding a syringe full of white liquid descends from the ceiling, suddenly injecting the subject in their upper arm.{ (set: $Metallicum_Test_LastBodyPart to "")} (if: $Metallicum_InmateHasBreasts is false and $Metallicum_InmateHasCock is false and $Metallicum_InmateHasBalls is false and $Metallicum_InmateHasPussy is false)[FAILURE : The test subject possesses no suitable body parts to remove!]{ }(else:)[{ }(if: $Metallicum_InmateHasBreasts is true)[ You watch as their sizable breasts slowly begin to shrink. Their voluptuous, feminine chest is soon replaced with a flat, unassuming one. (set: $Metallicum_InmateHasBreasts to false) ]{ }(if: $Metallicum_InmateHasCock is true)[ Their erect cock suddenly becomes flaccid, then rapidly begins decreasing in size. Soon, no evidence of their manhood remains. Instead, there's a flat, null section of flesh where their manhood once was. (set: $Metallicum_InmateHasCock to false) ]{ }(if: $Metallicum_InmateHasBalls is true)[ Their sack begins to shrink, going from a hefty pair of balls, to a tiny, cute-looking coinpurse, to nothing at all. (set: $Metallicum_InmateHasBalls to false) ]{ }(if: $Metallicum_InmateHasPussy is true)[ Their womanhood disappears over the course of a few seconds, leaving no evidence that their pussy ever existed. (set: $Metallicum_InmateHasPussy to false) (set: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInPussy to ""){ }(if: $Metallicum_InmateKnockedUp is true)[The subject is no longer pregnant.]]]]{ (display: "Metallicum - Gene mods")}

(replace: ?TestingScreen)[> Wait{ }(set: $Metallicum_Test_LastBodyPart to "")(display: "Metallicum - Reset screen")(display: "Metallicum - Item status")]

(replace: ?TestingMenu)[{ }{<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-repeat: "Hypnosis visor")[(display: "Metallicum - Hypnosis visor")]</td> <td>(link-repeat: "Hyper ray")[(set: $Metallicum_Test_LastItem to "Hyper ray")(display: "Metallicum - Device target")]</td> <td>(link-repeat: "Size normaliser")[(display: "Metallicum - Size normaliser ray")]</td> </tr> <tr> <td>(link-repeat: "Weight stabiliser")[(display: "Metallicum - Weight stabiliser ray")]</td> <td>(link-repeat: "Remove devices")[(display: "Metallicum - Remove devices")]</td> <td>(link-repeat: "Back")[(display: "Metallicum - Reset screen")]</td> </tr> </table> }]

(replace: ?TestingScreen)[> Deploy hypnosis visor { (set: $Metallicum_Test_LastBodyPart to "Head") }(if: $Metallicum_Test_LastBodyPart is "Head")[{ (set: $Metallicum_Test_WillPower to it - 10) (set: $Metallicum_Test_Lust to it + 6) }(if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemOnHead is "")[The test subject struggles and protests as a helmet rises from out of view and slips down over their head. They squirm and try to escape, desperately trying to break free before- -the glass visor built into the helmet lights up, projecting a bright pink light into the subject's eyes. They go immediately limp, their mind addled with all kinds of hypnotic suggestions and synthetic thoughts. (set: $Metallicum_Test_ItemOnHead to "Hypnosis visor")]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemOnHead is "Hypnosis visor")[The hypnotic helmet covering the test subject's head continues to beam suggestions, rules and mind-numbing spirals into the subject's brain. They're powerless and distracted by the hypnotic onslaught.]{ }(else:)[The (lowercase: $Metallicum_Test_ItemOnHead) is removed from the test subject's head. Instead, a large helmet soon sits over their head. They struggle for a moment before pinkish lights begin beaming into their eyes, quickly melting away any resistance. Their mind now addled and overfull of spirals, suggestions and distractions, they go limp. (set: $Metallicum_Test_ItemOnHead to "Hypnosis visor")]] { }(display: "Metallicum - Item status")]

(replace: ?TestingScreen)[> Remove devices (if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemOnHead is "")[ERROR : There are no devices to remove.]{ }(else:)[The hypnosis-inducing helmet is removed from the test subject's head. They blink confusedly for a few seconds, even once the spirals and flashing lights are no longer projected into their eyes. After a few seconds, however, they're confusedly scanning the room, apparently having regained their senses. (set: $Metallicum_Test_ItemOnHead to "")(set: $Metallicum_Test_LastBodyPart to "")]]

{(set: $Event to (random: 1, 2)) }(if: $Event is 1 or $Experienced_BadEnd_CatcherPlant is false)[While exploring the sparse forests of Luna, you suddenly catch a sweet scent on the breeze. You almost miss it at first, but it seems to become stronger the longer you stand and sniff the winds. You soon find yourself stumbling through the brush towards the source of the smell, drawn by curiosity and strange, building desire to get closer to whatever is producing it. When you arrive a short time later, you're taken off guard by a truly obscene sight. In the clearing ahead of you, there's a gigantic plant composed of endless winding vines and reaches branches, and at its centre, much to your confusion, there appears to be a plump, juicy-looking ass. You quickly realise, much to your embarrassment, that the sweet scent is emanating from the suspended derriere. An unknown white fluid is dripping tantalisingly from its puckered hole, practically begging you to take a closer look. Although you're wracked by immense embarrassment, you soon find yourself with an obvious, raging erection. You're sure that the sweet smell the flora is producing must be laced with pheromones. You know you should resist, but... it's just so inviting. Do you satisfy your perverse indulgences and fuck the strange plant? --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Fuck the plant]](if: $ContentWarnings is "High")[ 😵 ]</td> <td>[[Avoid it->Avoid the plant]]</td> </tr> </table>}]{ }(else:)[As you make your way through the underbrush, pushing aside branches and taking care not to fall over any unearthed roots, a familiar scent catches your attention. It's sweet and enticing, and you feel an immediate pull towards its source. Cautiously, you follow the scent on the wind, and soon you can hear a sound as well. Moaning, mixed in with wet slapping and what sounds like a champagne cork being repeatedly pulled from the bottle. When you discover the source of the sounds and smells, you're met with a truly horrific sight. You spot a gigantic Lunisian smashing their cock into a vine-ensnared Vulpis. Completely entombed by the plant's tendrils, the much smaller fox can do nothing to avoid the wolf's thick, knotted cock as it repeatedly hammers into their insides. What's worse, although only the Vulpis' ass is visible, and even much of that is obscured by the man fucking it, you immediately recognise the moans you hear as those of a prior version of yourself. Cum splatters to the forest floor as the Lunisian repeatedly empties his balls into this former, broken version of you. Within seconds of bloating your predecessor's guts, he's building into a rhythm again. You're much too embarrassed to confront them, and from the sounds of this unfortunate "you", there's not much left to save. You simply watch, hidden by foliage, as vines begin to stealthily ensnare the domineering wolf. They fail to notice this, far too busy fucking your prior self, completely unaware that they'll soon find themselves in an equally awful situation. You leave the stranger to their fate. Serves them right! --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Sneak away" , "Luna - Wildlands journey")</td> </tr> </table>}]

You enter the clearing, not quite having accepted what you're about to do. As you approach the strange plant, you constantly scan the surrounding treeline, worried that you'll be caught. When, much to your relief, the coast seems clear, you undo your jumpsuit and throw it aside. This close, the pheromones are utterly overwhelming. The air feels physically thick, and you struggle to think clearly. Before you know what you're doing, you're pushing your painfully hard manhood into the suspended ass. It's deliciously tight and warm, and the inside immediately begins to squirm and clench around your cock. What follows, however, takes you by utter surprise. From deep within the coiled mass of vines, you swear you can hear moaning. In an increasingly rare moment of lucidity, you realise that the ass you're fucking isn't a part of the strange plant–It's a prior victim, designed to lure in new ones. Despite this shocking revelation, however, you find yourself unable to stop. You thrust haphazardly, your breath growing ragged, practically drooling from how sensitive your cock has become. You whimper out unheard apologies to the unknown individual you're fucking, even as you attempt you squash your knot into their guts. Before too long, you manage it. You grip their hips and slam your knot into their hole, immediately emptying your balls inside them as a mind-shattering orgasm tears throughout... and persists far, far longer than it should. By the time your climax draws to a close, you're barely able to stand. The air has grown visibly heavy with pheromones. Your thoughts are consistently slow and clumsy. You're so intoxicated that you're not even aware that the plant is beginning to ensnare you with its thick vines, at least not until it's already too late. Dumbly, you do eventually realise what the plant is doing, but by then, your entire body is already bound and immobilised with strong, winding vines. They hold you upright, tugging your hips forwards, forcing you to pump into the previous victim. Between all of the thick, tensile vines entombing your limbs and your knot still locked inside the last victim's spasming hole, there's no chance at all of escaping. You can do nothing as you grow more addled by the chemicals hanging in the air, soon beginning to drool, and can only plead helplessly as a second, third and fourth orgasm are easily coaxed from you. When the fifth orgasm hits, it never ends. Your physiology has become so saturated by the lust-inducing pheromones you've inhaled that your recovery period is completely suppressed. You cum, and cum, until your stupid little brain turns to mush. Your black box activates as the last of your ego shatters like glass, and the flora immediately repurposes your mind-broken form. It pulls your cock from the previous victim, slings you forward, and then completely encompasses you. Only your ass remains exposed, ready to attract the next hapless victim. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Cum again and again..." , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table> (set: $Experienced_BadEnd_CatcherPlant to true) (display: "Image : Tentacles")}

No. No way... you're not going to do that. What if somebody stumbled into the clearing and caught you having your way with a plant? You shake your head, doing your best to resist the potent pheromones. You have to force yourself, but you push back into the underbrush, clambering away from the alluring flora. Eventually, you wander far enough that there's no longer a sweetness on the wind, and your mind instantly begins to feel less muddied than before. Although you've escaped the bizarre plant and its powerful pheromones, they've left you with a visible tent beneath your jumpsuit. When you reach down on a reflex and stroke your length, you find that it's grown exceptionally sensitive. You can only imagine how the strange plant might've taken advantage of that... --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Continue your journey" , "Luna - Wildlands journey")</td> </tr> </table>}

{(set: _WeightRatio to ($Metallicum_InmateWeightPounds / $Metallicum_InmateStartingWeightPounds) * 100) }(replace: ?TestingScreen)[> Administer 'InstaCal' food supplement pill (if: _WeightRatio < 150)[A series of metallic hands and graspers raise from the floor, securing the test subject's face and pulling open their mouth. The test subject struggles, but to no avail, as a final hand tosses a pill into their pried-open mouth. No later than the pill disappears past their lips, a fresh layer of blubber can be seen forming beneath their skin. Within the space of a few minutes, the test subject goes from relatively lithe and healthy to chubby and soft, much to their shock.{ (set: $Metallicum_InmateWeightPounds to $Metallicum_InmateStartingWeightPounds * 1.5)}]{ }(else-if: _WeightRatio < 200)[A series of synthetic arms reach up from the floor, further securing the test subject's chubby body. They grip their flabby cheeks and pull open their mouth. Before the subject can protest, a pill has already been pushed past their lips. Within moments, the effects begin. The test subject gasps and huffs as their already chubby body is further addled with adipose, bloating and softening until they're unquestionably obese. They whine softly as the changes to their body become apparent.{ (set: $Metallicum_InmateWeightPounds to $Metallicum_InmateStartingWeightPounds * 2)}]{ }(else-if: _WeightRatio < 250)[Dozens of metallic arms surge up from the floor, taking a moment to squeeze and heft at the test subject's overweight body. In that moment of surprise, their mouth hangs open for just a moment, but the arms take full advantage. A pill is thrown with pinpoint accuracy, striking the back of their throat where it is reflexively swallowed. The test subject only has a moment to whine before the effects begin. Their already overweight body jiggles as tens of thousands of calories worth of pudge begins to solidify beneath their skin. The remains of their physique, if you can even call it that anymore, is completely ruined. There's nothing the test subject can do but quietly protest their situation, soon growing red-faced when they realise that even talking is enough to send ludicrous, obscene wobbles through their doughy body.{ (set: $Metallicum_InmateWeightPounds to $Metallicum_InmateStartingWeightPounds * 2.5)}]{ }(else-if: _WeightRatio < 300)[Countless synthetic arms reach up from the floor, accosting the test subject's jelly-like body. When they let out a sharp gasp, fatty cheeks wobbling as they do, a pill is pushed forcefully past their lips. The effects are instant and pronounced, and leave the test subject whimpering as their body continues to bloat and grow. Their rapidly increasing weight now threatens to render them completely, utterly immobile. They can do nothing but wobble and plead helplessly, worriedly looking towards the one-way glass as they realise a single pill is now all that separates them from normalcy and a new, humiliating life as an unmoving, fatty blob.{ (set: $Metallicum_InmateWeightPounds to $Metallicum_InmateStartingWeightPounds * 3)}]{ }(else-if: _WeightRatio < 350)[The test subject pleads and begs as countless synthetic hands reach up from the floor, gripping, groping and hefting at their hapless victim. They make several attempts to push another pill past the subject's lips, but they turn their head, clench their jaws, and otherwise refuse it. Undeterred, the arms intensify their assault on the poor subject's pillowy body—Poking, prodding, squeezing, squashing—until finally, their will is broken. They let out a sharp gasp, only opening their mouth for a second, but that's more than enough time for a pill to be forced past their lips. They writhe and struggle against their creaking restraints before, utterly defeated, the pill slips down their throat. Within an instant, the blubber across their body is growing. Their fatty circumference pushes outwards, inch by inch, until there's barely a recognisable silhouette of a person. They whine, try to struggle one last time against their restraints, and quickly discover their limbs are now too heavy to lift. You watch in strange satisfaction, knowing you've just reduced the test subject to an utterly helpless blob.{ (set: $Metallicum_InmateWeightPounds to $Metallicum_InmateStartingWeightPounds * 3.5)}]{ }(else:)[(either: "Another pill passes the test subject's lips, and you watch as their stomach begins to press even more firmly against the observation-room class. Were it not for several indicators that the glass is military-grade, you'd be worried about their gut breaking the glass and crushing you." , "Another pill is forced past the test subject's lips, and you watch as their ridiculous chest expands even more. Their restraints creak under the strain of their preposterous non-balance. Were the subject to stand, the only thing stopping them from falling forward would be their own gigantic chest." , "Another pill is effortlessly thrown past the test subject's pleading lips. Within an instant, they're expanding again. You watch, transfixed, as their ass grows even more massive. It was already comically, ridiculously huge, but now the testing bench beneath them is visibly beginning to cave. They must have one of, if not the largest, asses in the entire system." , "Another pill is pushed past the test subject's lips. They do their best not to swallow, although they fail almost immediately. You watch as they begin to grow yet again, their thighs becoming so ludicrously plump and thick that the existing restraints are soon replaced with much larger, more industrial-looking ones. You realise, with a degree of second-hand embarrassment, that the new restraints are designed for hauling heavy cargo.") You have reached the upper limit for how large a test subject can be grown during testing.{ (set: $Metallicum_InmateWeightPounds to $Metallicum_InmateStartingWeightPounds * 4)}]]

(replace: ?TestingScreen)[(if: $Metallicum_Test_LastBodyPart is "Balls")[> Activate hyper ray : Target : Balls (if: $Metallicum_InmateBallWeight <= 0.06)[A blue ray gun unfolds from a nearby wall, quickly taking aim at the test subject's crotch. They squirm and protest, tensing up when a beam of growth-inducing light is projected directly at their balls. Within a few seconds, they're expressing discomfort, their balls now twice the size they were before.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateBallWeight <= 0.12)[A blue-tinted ray gun extends from a nearby wall, takes a moment to line up its crosshairs with the pleading test subject's balls, and then bathes them in a constant, blue stream of growth-inducing energy. The test subject winces and whines as their balls double in size.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateBallWeight <= 0.24)[A raygun with a blue finish appears from one of the side walls, takes a few moments to line up a shot, and then fires a continuous stream of blue light at the test subject's balls. They bite their lip, wincing and pleading for release, as their already uncomfortable balls double in size, becoming exceptionally heavy-looking.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateBallWeight <= 0.48)[A blue raygun appears, abruptly blasting the test subject's crotch with a strange beam of energy. Their poor balls, which are already reddened and painful-looking, have soon doubled in size. As the raygun's beam fades, the test subject is left pleading and whining, their balls now heavy enough that the weight is physically painful.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateBallWeight <= 0.96)[The test subject whimpers as the blue ray gun unfolds yet again, immediately bathing their nether regions in a strobing, growth-inducing light. Over the course of only a few seconds, their balls double in size. Were they to be released from their restraints, the test subject would find that standing for too long without supporting their oversized balls would be exceptionally uncomfortable.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateBallWeight <= 1.92)[Again, the blue ray gun folds out from a nearby wall, taking aim and firing at the subject's balls, instantly causing them to double in size. The test subject's balls are now so massive that, for the subject to move without pain, they'd have to carry them in each hand. They seem to realise this, their face flushed a deep shade of red.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateBallWeight <= 3.84)[The test subject squirms as the blue-coloured hyper ray extends and takes aim at their poor privates. Their balls are soon bathed in flickering blue light and double in size almost instantly. Their balls have grown so big that they'd have trouble carrying them or even holding one in each hand to begin with.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateBallWeight <= 7.68)[A familiar ray gun bathes the test subject's crotch in a shimmering blue light, immediately causing their balls to grow again. The test subject whimpers with embarrassment as their balls audibly slosh. There's little chance of them ever managing to cram those things into a pair of underwear, or hide them beneath clothes at all, for that matter.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateBallWeight <= 15.36)[The test subject shakes their head as the hyper ray swings into position yet again, firing a continuous beam at the subject's poor, aching testicles, only stopping once they've doubled in size. Carrying their balls is no longer a viable strategy. They're simply too big and heavy for that. They might have better luck crawling across the floor, allowing their hyper endowments to drag pathetically behind them.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateBallWeight <= 30.72)[The test subject makes all kinds of attempts to reason with you before finally gritting their teeth and bearing the brunt of the growth-causing ray as it strikes their already ludicrously-proportioned balls. The test subject's balls now hang below them like a pair of particularly heavy, inescapable weights, denying them a second of reprieve from their new hyper-productive organs.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateBallWeight <= 61.44)[You press a button, and within a few moments, the test subject's balls are yet again plumping up and growing more massive beneath the hyper ray's blue light. A nearby panel informs you that, should the test subject's balls grow any larger, they will be rendered completely immobile.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateBallWeight <= 122.88)[A blue ray gun unfolds from the wall, easily finding its target—the target's hyper-endowed testicles. A blue beam of growth-inducing light immediately strikes them, causing them to double in size. The restraints creak from the new weight, and multiple panels indicate that you have now rendered the subject immobile.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateBallWeight <= 245.76)[The subject struggles against their restraints as the hyper ray lines up a shot, not that it has any trouble whatsoever targeting their massively oversized testes. They let out a sharp whine as their balls double in size. Each of the subject's balls is now heavier than the average person. You wonder if they'd even be able to drag their balls behind themselves by this point.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateBallWeight <= 491.52)[The test subject lets out a panicked gasp as the hyper ray charges up again, soon blasting their balls with more of the growth-inducing energy they've become accustomed to. Your repeated use of the hyper ray has bestowed the subject with a pair of balls that each weigh more than several people combined. There would be little chance of the test subject making an escape now, even if their restraints were to utterly fail.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateBallWeight <= 983.04)[The test subject pleads for you to stop as the hyper ray begins to fire another continuous beam of size-enhancing energy into their balls. Even with specialised equipment, there would still be considerable logistical challenges to hauling the test subject and their half-tonne balls more than a few paces.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateBallWeight <= 1966.08)[A blue ray gun unfolds from a nearby wall, immediately firing a growth-inducing beam at the test subject's sloshing balls. They grit their teeth as their already mobility-ruining balls double in size. A nearby panel indicates that the weight of the test subject's balls now renders them completely immobile, even if specialised equipment is used. ]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateBallWeight <= 3932.16)[From a nearby wall, a blue ray gun unfolds. It takes aim for only a moment before firing a ray of growth-stimulating energy directly into the subject's already hyper-endowed gonads. They let out a sharp whine as their balls double in size. A nearby panel indicates that the test subject's testicles are now, individually, heavier than a car. From the way they're wincing, you believe it.]{ }(else:)[A blue-painted ray gun unfolds from a nearby wall, taking aim for a few brief moments before projecting a beam of growth-inducing energy at the subject's balls. The test subject shudders and moans, their gargantuan balls sloshing needily. Truth be told, they've grown so big that you're having trouble spotting the difference from before the ray gun fired. This seems to be the upper limit.]{ (set: $Metallicum_InmateBallWeight to it * 2)}]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_Test_LastBodyPart is "Breasts")[(if: $Metallicum_Test_LastBodyPart is "Breasts")[> Activate hyper ray : Target : Breasts (if: $Metallicum_InmateBreastWeight <= 0.24)[A blue-tinted ray gun extends from a nearby wall, targeting the subject's perky, unimpressive breasts. A moment later, a beam of energy is projected into the soft flesh of their chest. Soon, their breasts have doubled in size, now a pair of average-looking B-cups. The subject seems equal parts worried and excited by this. Their breasts are bigger now, undeniably, but they're still manageable... for now.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateBreastWeight <= 0.48)[The hyper ray unfolds from a nearby wall, pausing for a brief moment to take aim at the subject's breasts. Soon, the ray fires, and the subject is left with a pair of impressive D-cups. The subject looks worried. They're struggling in their restraints slightly as if trying to approximate the new weight that's now hanging from their chest.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateBreastWeight <= 0.96)[The blue-painted hyper ray unfolds from a nearby wall, taking only the briefest moment to align itself with the subject's plump breasts. A second later, it projects a beam of light into them. As the light fades, they let out a sharp gasp at the discovery of their new H-cups. There's still the occasional flicker of excitement on the test subject's face, albeit buried beneath worry.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateBreastWeight <= 1.92)[The hyper ray extends from the wall and soon blasts the subject's breasts with growth-inducing light. The subject is left with a pair of monstrous P-cups. You imagine they'd make half the galaxy jealous and the other half wince. The subject is writhing uncomfortably, each breath a panicked gasp. After so many blasts from the hyper ray, they can only suspect that more are on the way.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateBreastWeight <= 3.84)[The hyper ray fires again, blasting the test subject's already massive breasts and causing them to almost instantly double in size. You watch on a nearby screen as the subject's estimated cup size is removed from a nearby display. A celebratory message plays inside the test chamber, informing the subject that their breasts are now so massive that conventional cup sizes no longer apply. They appear to be a mixture of utterly horrified and strangely aroused to hear this.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateBreastWeight <= 7.68)[The hyper ray unfolds and soon blasts the subject's bra-obliterating breasts with another barrage of growth-inducing energy. The subject gasps and pleads as their breasts double in size, their tongue lolling from their mouth as they produce a truly obscene moan. A nearby panel notifies you that beyond this point, hyper-sensitivity is a known side-effect of the growth process.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateBreastWeight <= 15.36)[The blue-tinted ray gun wastes no time lining up another shot, projecting a pulsating beam of blue light directly into the expansive, pillowy flesh of the test subject's chest. Almost immediately, they double in size. The subject drools over their new tit-flesh, gasping and moaning pathetically as the warm liquid runs down them.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateBreastWeight <= 30.72)[The hyper ray deploys yet again and soon bathes the subject's already monstrous breasts in another flood of blue, hyper-inducing light. A nearby panel indicates that each of the subject's breasts now weighs about the same as a person. Their mobility without special equipment is now estimated at 0%.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateBreastWeight <= 61.44)[The hyper ray quickly unfolds, to the subject's horror, and soon blasts their breasts with a further course of hyper-inducing energy. A nearby panel indicates that each of the subject's breasts now weighs the same as multiple people and that industrial-grade equipment will be required to allow the subject mobility upon release.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateBreastWeight <= 122.88)[The hyper ray takes an unusually long time to line up its shot, giving the test subject a few extra moments to plead and beg before their person-crushing breasts are again doubled in size. The subject's breasts are now the approximate size of beach balls, albeit far more difficult to heft around. Mechanical arms are deployed to prevent the subject's own breasts from crushing them.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateBreastWeight <= 245.76)[The hyper ray has no trouble targeting the subject's breasts, bathing them in a flickering blue light and causing them to double in size yet again. A celebratory message plays in the test chamber, informing the subject that the standard classifications for measuring hyper breasts no longer apply. They've gotten so big that there is no longer a suitable measuring standard, even among some of the bustiest women in the galaxy. Hyper guidelines no longer apply. The subject is horrified to hear it.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateBreastWeight <= 491.52)[The familiar, blue-tinted raygun extends from the wall and easily targets the subject's megalithic tits. Their chest is engulfed in a flash of blue light that persists for several seconds, and when it ceases, their breasts are twice as big as before. The subject's breasts now weigh over a tonne each. A congratulatory message plays in the test chamber, much to their horror.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateBreastWeight <= 983.04)[The blue ray gun extends from the wall, barely having to aim in order to get a lock on the subject's furniture-obliterating tits. A beam of continuous, growth-inducing energy is soon beaming into their breasts, causing them to double in size once again. The subject's breasts now weigh multiple tonnes each, considerably more than a car.]{ }(else:)[The hyper ray extends from the wall, not even having to aim before it fires. The test subject and their man-crushing tits are engulfed in a pulsating blue light, and when it ends, their breasts have doubled in size. The subject gasps and cries out as mechanical arms struggle to hold up their breasts. They're likely one of the bustiest individuals in the entire system. A warning flashes on a nearby screen. This seems to be the upper limit.]{ (set: $Metallicum_InmateBreastWeight to it * 2)}]]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_Test_LastBodyPart is "Cock")[> Activate hyper ray : Target : Cock (if: $Metallicum_InmateCockLengthCM <= 14)[A blue-tinted ray gun unfurls from the ceiling, takes aim at the pleading and squirming test subject's cock, and then submerges it in a stream of blue, hyper-inducing light. Over the course of a few seconds, the subject's cock surges and throbs, growing slightly. The test subject appears in equal parts horrified and aroused.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateCockLengthCM <= 21)[A familiar, blue-painted ray gun descends from the ceiling, takes a few moments to target the test subject's cock, and then blasts it with growth-inducing energy. The subject's already impressively large cock throbs and engorges, and soon they're left with a borderline record-breaking cock. They seem excited by this but eye the ray gun worriedly until it slips back behind a ceiling panel.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateCockLengthCM <= 31.5)[The hyper beam is deployed again, easily targeting the subject's above-average cock and bathing it with pulsating, growth-inducing light. Along with this last exposure to the hyper beam, a small syringe is also deployed. It jabs the subject's upper arm, injecting a series of medical nanites, ensuring they'll be physiologically able to handle even more growth.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateCockLengthCM <= 47.25)[The familiar blue ray gun unfolds from the ceiling, soon blasting the subject's hyperised cock with a beam of growth-inducing light. The subject winces as their junk becomes heavy enough to strain their restraints.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateCockLengthCM <= 70.88)[As the light fades, a nearby panel informs you that the test subject's cock now weighs as much as the average person. From how they're wincing and moaning, cock throbbing constantly, you believe it. The subject's shaft is now sufficiently heavy enough to immobilise them.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateCockLengthCM <= 106.32)[The hyper ray deploys, taking no time at all to lock on to the subject's throbbing, metre-long cock. Their shaft is enveloped in pulsating, blue light for a few moments, and when it fades, they're boasting an even more massive dick. A nearby panel indicates that their cock now weighs the same as multiple people.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateCockLengthCM <= 159.48)[The blue-painted hyper ray deploys, quickly targeting the subject's excessively massive shaft. With a flash of blue light, it sets about expanding their already massive manhood. A nearby panel notifies you that the subject's cock now weighs almost a tonne.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateCockLengthCM <= 239.22)[The hyper ray flips down before the subject can react, immediately blasting their gigantic cock with another burst of growth-inducing energy. Their cock throbs and pulsates as it grows to a new, somehow even more monstrous size. A nearby panel now indicates that the subject's cock now weighs multiple tonnes. When a congratulatory message is broadcast to the squirming test subject, their eyes go wide. Were their cock any bigger, it might begin to damage the test chamber.]{ }(else-:)[The hyper ray descends towards the overwhelmed test subject, and soon their already multi-tonne cock is being barraged with even more hyper-inducing energy. After a few seconds, they're left with cock several times as long as a person. A nearby panel indicates that their cock weighs over 10 tonnes. The floor of the test chamber is beginning to cave, and the test subject's cock is now rated as extremely hazardous both to them and others. This seems to be the upper limit.]{ }(set: $Metallicum_InmateCockLengthCM to it * 1.5)]{ }(display: "Metallicum - Item status")]

(replace: ?TestingScreen)[> Activate normaliser ray (if: $Metallicum_InmateCockLengthCM is <= 14 and $Metallicum_InmateBreastWeight <= 0.24 and $Metallicum_InmateBallWeight <= 0.06)[ERROR : No body parts are sufficiently large enough to warrant reduction.]{ }(else:)[A red-painted ray gun descends from the ceiling, taking aim at the squirming test subject. It fires a continuous red beam that soon envelopes their entire body, hyper endowments included.{ }(if: $Metallicum_InmateBreastWeight > 0.24)[<br> Over the course of a few seconds, the test subject's ginormous breasts are reduced to a pair of unassuming A-cups.]{ }(if: $Metallicum_InmateCockLengthCM > 14)[<br> The test subject's monstrous shaft slowly shrinks, soon reaching a size considered natural again.]{ }(if: $Metallicum_InmateBallWeight > 0.06)[<br> Each of the test subject's balls begins to shrink, soon returning to their original size.]{ (set: $Metallicum_InmateBallWeight to 0.06) (set: $Metallicum_InmateBreastWeight to 0.24) (set: $Metallicum_InmateCockLengthCM to 14)}]]{ }(display: "Metallicum - Item status")

(replace: ?TestingScreen)[> Remove excess weight (if: $Metallicum_InmateWeightPounds is $Metallicum_InmateStartingWeightPounds)[ERROR : The test subject possesses no excess weight to remove.]{ }(else:)[Shutters descend over the observation room window, and soon a bright blue light can be faintly seen. It strobes and pulses for about 10 seconds; before the shutters ascend once more. The test subject is still restrained, looking confused. All of their excess weight is now missing, and they've been returned to the size they were when testing first began.{ (set: $Metallicum_InmateWeightPounds to $Metallicum_InmateStartingWeightPounds) (set: $Metallicum_InmateWeightKilograms to $Metallicum_InmateStartingWeightKilograms)}]]{ }(display: "Metallicum - Item status")

{{(set: _WeightRatio to ($Metallicum_InmateWeightPounds / $Metallicum_InmateStartingWeightPounds) * 100) }(if: _WeightRatio < 150)[The test subject's weight is in the healthy range for their species. They are toned, albeit with notable softness in the expected areas.]{ }(else-if: _WeightRatio < 200)[The test subject's teeters on the far upper healthy weight range for their species. They are noticeably chubbier than most of their kind, with pronounced softness that encompasses almost every inch of their body.]{ }(else-if: _WeightRatio < 250)[The test subject is undeniably overweight. Their entire body is plump and pillowy soft, and the restraints visibly struggle to hold them. When they struggle, they quickly become embarrassed by how much their body wobbles.]{ }(else-if: _WeightRatio < 300)[The test subject is excessively overweight, their newfound pudge more than heavy enough to impede any of their future movements. There's not a hint of firmness to be found across their entire body, only the soft, wobbling flab that you've forced upon them.]{ }(else-if: _WeightRatio < 350)[The test subject has grown so massive that they're now approaching utter immobility. The restraints are struggling to hold them, both due to their weight and the excessive pudge they're now required to enclose, but you doubt you'll need them much longer.]{ }(else-if: _WeightRatio < 400)[The test subject has grown so utterly huge that, were you to disengage the restraints, they'd still be completely immobilised. They can do nothing but struggle and whine, their endless, jello-like flesh wobbling as they protest their situation.]{ }(else:)[{(set: $Event to (random: 1,4)) }(if: $Event is 1)[The test subject's sloshing, absurdly huge gut is large enough to press against the observation room glass. The copious, fatty flesh obscures your view of the testing chamber.]{ }(else-if: $Event is 2)[(if: $Metallicum_InmateHasBreasts is false)[The test subject's fatty chest is easily mistaken for a pair of outlandish, pornstar-esque breasts. You imagine there are quite a few women who desire breasts as huge, and all manner of size-Queens who'd love to get their hands on them.](else:)[The test subject's breasts have grown so ridiculously plump and huge that their balance is utterly destroyed. Were they to stand, they'd immediately fall forward onto their new, car-sized fun pillows.]]{ }(else-if: $Event is 3)[The test subject's derriere has grown so megalithic and massive that you doubt there's a chair in the system that could endure it. At least it makes for good padding when they sit, since it's all they'll be able to do from now on.]{ }(else:)[The test subject's unbelievably thick, tree-trunk thighs have grown so ridiculously fatty that they are now unable to stand. Instead, they offer only additional padding when the subject is sitting... which you expect will be the vast, vast majority of the time.]] {(set: $Metallicum_InmateWeightKilograms to (round: $Metallicum_InmateWeightPounds / 2.205)) }Their total weight is $Metallicum_InmateWeightPounds{}lbs ($Metallicum_InmateWeightKilograms{}kgs)}

{(if: $Metallicum_InmateBallWeight <= 0.06)[The test subject's testes are within the normal size range for their species.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateBallWeight <= 0.12)[The test subject's testes have grown in size due to your testing. They are now as large as a pair of golf balls, and the subject appears mildly uncomfortable.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateBallWeight <= 0.24)[The test subject's testes are now peach-sized, having grown due to the hyper-ray exposure. They writhe uncomfortably as you observe them, desperate for release.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateBallWeight <= 0.48)[The test subject's testes are now the size of tennis balls, having grown from all the exposure to the hyper ray. They're visibly drooling, whining whenever the position of their balls shifts, even slightly.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateBallWeight <= 0.96)[The test subject's balls are now melon-sized, having grown huge from the continued exposure to the hyper ray. They continually gasp and whine, begging for release.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateBallWeight <= 1.92)[Having continued to grow from repeated exposure to the hyper ray, each of the test subject's balls is now two apples in diameter. Were the subject released, they'd have to carry their own testicles, lest they deal with the extreme pain of them being so heavy.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateBallWeight <= 3.84)[Having grown yet again due to further exposure to the hyper ray, the subject's balls are now grapefruit-sized. Were they released from their restraints, the test subject would have to carry their own balls and would find it quite difficult to do so.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateBallWeight <= 7.68)[Both of the test subject's balls are now the size of bowling balls, albeit almost three times as heavy. They've grown so massive that the test subject, were they to be released from their restraints, would likely immediately fall to the floor, unable to adequately haul their own balls as they walked.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateBallWeight <= 15.36)[The test subject is gritting their teeth, tears in their eyes, as their body screams for release. Each of their testicles is as large as a basketball and audibly sloshing with need.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateBallWeight <= 30.72)[The test subject is whimpering and trying desperately to nurse their aching, sloshing balls. Thanks to continued hyper ray exposure, the test subject now possesses a pair of pineapple-sized balls. Each is approximately as heavy as four bowling balls.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateBallWeight <= 61.44)[The test subject is red-faced and gasping, their balls audibly sloshing and needy. Each of them is now as large as a beach ball, albeit much, much heavier. If released, they would no longer be able to carry their balls... but could easily rest them on the floor while bracing themselves against something.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateBallWeight <= 122.88)[Due to unceasing exposure to the hyper ray, the test subject's balls have now grown heavy enough to render them completely immobile without assistive equipment. Each one is now approximately half a metre in diameter.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateBallWeight <= 245.76)[When able, the test subject looks down at their balls in both terror and excitement. Each of the test subject's balls is now as tall as a car. There's no need for them to attempt to carry their immobile orbs anymore, as both of them are unlikely to leave the floor ever again.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateBallWeight <= 491.52)[The test subject's balls are comically large. They're gritting their teeth, their mind addled by the extreme need for release. Their testicles now immobilise them in more ways than one. In addition to their weight, each one, individually, is now wider than most of the single-person doorways in the system.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateBallWeight <= 983.04)[Each of the test subject's balls is now wider than an industrial wrecking ball, and you suspect they're now equally heavy as well. The test subject hasn't been able to stop themselves from gasping, overwhelmed, for some time now. Due to the excessive growth of their balls, the subject will now require specialised equipment if they're to have any hope of moving around.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateBallWeight <= 1966.08)[The test subject's balls have grown to comically massive proportions. Were they to pass through a double door, they'd have to haul each testicle through separately since both together would be far too wide to fit. You have rendered the subject immobile, even with specialised equipment.]{ }(else:)[The test subject's balls have grown to a truly ludicrous size due to near-constant exposure to the hyper ray. Each one is individually large enough to occupy a twin-size bed, and each is now heavier than a car. Needless to say, your continued testing has rendered the subject completely immobile and constantly begging for release.]{ (set: _WeightPounds to $Metallicum_InmateBallWeight * 2.2) (set: _Volume to ($Metallicum_InmateBallWeight / 0.03) * 33.51) (set: _Volume to it / 2) (set: _Radius to _Volume * 3) (set: _Radius to it / (4 * 3.14159)) (set: _Radius to (ceil:(pow: it , 1/3))) (set: _Diameter to _Radius * 2) (set: _DiameterInches to (ceil: _Diameter / 2.54))} Each of their balls are approximately _DiameterInches inches (_Diameter{cm}) in diameter and weigh _WeightPounds{lbs} ($Metallicum_InmateBallWeight{kgs})}

{(if: $Build_Public is false)[<img class="center" style="width:30%" src="data:image/png;base64,iVBORw0KGgoAAAANSUhEUgAAAlgAAAJYCAYAAAC+ZpjcAAAACXBIWXMAAC4jAAAuIwF4pT92AAAAG3RFWHRTb2Z0d2FyZQBDZWxzeXMgU3R1ZGlvIFRvb2zBp+F8AAAa2ElEQVR42u3dP3Id5dLAYR+Z0JEWgNByIHLmE4k9mIAqFGACBQReBEQOHZnlqLQBRYS4RHxOFahG7595u/v5ZdR3L6CZnu6HW3z24dvvfnl6JUmSpG4dAEuSJAmwJEmSAEuSJAmwJEmSBFiSJEmAJUmSBFiSJEkCLEmSJMCSJEkCLEmSJAGWJEkSYEmSJAGWJEkSYEmSJAmwJEmS0gLr+ONPnqIkSUrVpz8+ApYkSRJgSZIkARZgSZIkwAIsSZIkwJIkSQIswJIkSYAFWJIkSYAlSZIEWJIkSYAFWJIkSYAlSZIEWJIkSYAFWJIkCbAAS5IkCbAkSZIAawiwWn8ASZKk1XwCWJIkCbAAS5IkCbAAS5IkARZgSZIkwAIsSZIkwAIsSZIEWIAlSZIAC7AkSRJgAZYkSRJgAZYkSQIswJIkSYAFWJIkSYAFWJIkCbAAS5IkARZgSZIkARZgSZIkwAIsSZIEWIAlSZIEWIAlSZIAC7AkSRJgAZYkSQIswJIkSQIswJIkSYAFWJIkCbAAS5IkCbAAS5IkARZgSZIkwAIsSZIkwAIsSZIEWIAlSZIAC7AkSRJgARZgSZIkwAIsSZIEWIAlSZIAC7AkSZIAC7Ckej3c3236z19d3/rrSwIswJIEOIAlARZgSQIswJIEWIAlAZa/viTAAixJgANYEmABliTAAiwJsABLEmD560sCLMCSAAuwAEsCLMCSBDiAJQEWYEkCLH99SYAFWBJgARZgSYAFWJIAB7AkwAIsSZIkwAIsSZIEWIAlSZIAC7AkSRJgAZYkSRJgAZYkSQIswJIkSYAFWJIkSYAFWJIkCbAAS5IkARZgSZIkARZgSZIkwAIsSZIEWIAlSZIEWIAlSZIAC7AkSRJgAZYkSQIswJIkSQIswJIkSYAFWJIkCbAAS5IkCbAAS5IkARZgSZIkwAIsSZIkwAIsSZIEWIAlSZIAC7AkSZIAC7AkSRJgAdYOA+H5SJIEWIAFWJIkARZgAZYkSYAFWIAlSZIAqzKwWp+P5ylJEmABAWBJkgRYgAVYkiS5v4AFWIAlSRJgVQLBbFABmCRJgAVYgCVJEmABFmBJkgRYgAVYgCVJAizAAirgkiQJsAALsCRJAizAAizAkiQBFmABFmBJkgRYNQ58dFABl5T3gPh+ZX4BC7AASxJgyfwCFmABliTAkgALsAALsCQHSgIswAIsAJPUb//4XjVzvnrfx9b5BSzAAixJgCXAAizAAixJgCXzBViABViAJTmAEmABFlABl6Tqv5Cz3K+WeQYswAIsSYAl9wuwAEsWuARYAizAAiwDClgSYMn8ABZgGVAAkxxA35/cI8ACLFnwEmDJPQIswDLQgCUBlswLYAGWgQYsycH0/ZkX9wSwIi4AoAIuKct+8b0BUuV7AliA5YOQHFjfm/cvwAIsWfgSYMl9ASzA8gEAlgRYcl8AC7B8AD4YyUH1PXm/AizAkoMgAZb3K8ACLB8MYEmAJfcCsADLB+ODkRxg35P3K8ACLDkQcmB9P96fAAuwfHAOhARY3p8AC7B8cIAl2Re+H/vefQAswJIDIQfa9+P9CbByA8sHBmBS1v1Q7fuwz+1/wAIsOSBysH0f3pcAC7DkgAiwfB/elwALsHyQPjAJsLwvARZg+SDloMj3b/7t5yrzN9oPgAVYcmDk+zf/9jNgARZgyYGRA27+vR8BFmD5gH3gEmB5PwIswPIBywGS7zv6fNuv5gmwAEsWhgDLfHv+AizAsgAEWPJ9A5YAC7AASw6QfN+AJfMEWIC14kBbWMAl3wNgacV5mf2+AQuwAMtBkgMOWAIswAIswLJgBFjm2fsxL4AFWIAlwAIsAZYAC7AAC8AcLDnQs+dz733tfcbaX9H+BwjAAizAAiw5yIAlwAIswAIsC0q+T8ACLMAy74AFWAIswDKfgGU+AAuwLHALDsAASsAn9wGwAMsHJMACLAGW+wBYgAVYFhpgAZYAy/MHLMCy4AELsABLgCX3AbAAy4ITgJkv2U+eJ2ABFmBZYIDl+5L95Hn6eQHLAfDBARZgyX4SYAEWYPngLEDAkuwnzxOwAKvSB2iBAZjvRYDgeWXcj4AFWIBlYQKWzL/587wAC7AAS4AlAYPnBViABVgWFmD5XgQMnhdgAZaDAVza4/vw/gUQ9jdgAZaD4gN1cHwPAizPB7AAC7B8oAIsCbDsb8ACLB+oAEsCLPsbsADLQfGBOkDmX8BlX9t3gAVYPlgBlgRY9jVgAZYPVoAlAZZ9DViA5cD4YC0c71uAZV8DFmABlw9WDo5Ua/5934AFWIAlC1gy/34+wAIsAwtYDoxk/v18gAVYgAVYsoAlwHKvAAuwfMACYsn34ecBLMACLM/DwpV8H34ewAIswAIsB8T7kQDL+wUswAIsWbiS78P3DliABVgOuPcjObBAFe99AxZgOeDyfiTAAizAAiwHXN6PBFiABViABVgOuPcjARZgARZgAZYP3AExn8p+8Oxz+xewAMtAO+iAJfMJWPYvYAEWYPnAAUsCLMAyb4AFWD5wAZYAC7B874BVA1jVBtwH7nlLq+7nbN+D73/ufAEWYPngLRTPW4AFWIAFWIDlg5fnLfNq//r+AQuwfOA+eM9bAizfP2ABFmD54D1fKftBBArPA7AAywcvz1fmGbDsA8ACLAvAB+/5SoBlHwAWYAGWD97zlQDLPvA8AAuwfPDyPKVx+z3692If7HvvAQuwLADPU3JQAcs8ABZgAYE8Twmw7APAAizAsgA8Twmw7APAAizAsgA8P8nBjf092Q+ABViAZQF4fhJg2Q+ABViAZQF4fhJg2Q+ABViAZQF4fpIAC7AAC7CAy0LwfCTgsh+i3nfAAiwLwvORBFiABViABRAOgOcjAZb9AFiABVgWhOcjAZb9AFiABVgWhOcjAdfa4LIP1r7ngAVYAOH5SAIswAIswAIIC9/zkQDLPgAswAIsC8PzkQDLPgAswAIsgPA8JK31PdoHgAVYgGWBeB6S79E+ACzAAiwLzPOQBFiABViAZYFZGBaqBFj2AWABFnBZKH5eSf32A1Ctfb8BC7CAw88rCbAAC7AAC7AASxJQABZgARZgAYefVxJgARZgAVbUDyj68wAsCRh8/znuNWABFmBZsJJ8/4AFWIAFWIAlCbA8H8ACLMACLAtWku8fsAALuLJ+YIAiSYAFWIAFEIAlSQIswAIswJIkARZgARZgSZIAC7AACyDmvT8gkySgAizAAizPU5Lsd8ACLCAALEkSYAEWYAGWJAmwAKsWsAAByKSsB8/3Zb4AC7AAC7Ak34/vS4AFWIDlA/a8JcASYAEWYFlIgCUBlswXYAEWcEly0Ow31bi/gAVYkhw4+03mD7AAywKS5MDZb+YPsADLApLkwNlvAizA8sKliAv23c370wVzOHjIhfed/Wf+AAuwLBhZuIDlwNl/5s+8AZYFIwGWA2f/yfwBlhduwQiwPG/AkvkDLMCycGShmnf7zXyYP8ACLAtFAizP3z6U+QMsA2ChCLA8f9mH5g+wAMtCkQVr3u0382H+AAuwLBhZmObd+zIf9sVzz9N+ASwLRRamefe+7EMBFmBZQBaKHGzAkvkALMACLAtFDrZ5977MB2ABFmAZCDnI5t373Pf9jP557UfzClgOigUi34N5ByzzYl4BC7AcHFlw5t37BCz7x34BLAdHFpx59z4BS+YVsBwUC0XmvfZ8b33/1b//556X/Wg/AZaD4wDJvJtvwAIs+wmwAMsBkgVmvgELsDxvwAIsB0gWmPkGLMCS/QRYDo6DZEFV693N+9MFdDh4KOr2vdmP9hVgOUiAZWEBFmAJsOwrwAIswJJ5BiwBln0FWIBlYGRhAZYAS4AFWAIsCyr7PHz9+s/JH79+/Y0hkgALsAALsARYgCXZX4AFWAZGgAVYkgALsARYFhRgSQIswAIsB9YC8j7/o6en8/Vy+seHw4Uha5jH0fPSe/7tK6ACLMACLAEWYAEWYNlngAVYgCXAAizAAiy5t4AFWBaWhQRYgAVYAizAAizgsoCyv4/W31z3HFTnf3xxAVR7gmq1fWtfARRgARZgWVCABViAZV8BFmABloESYAEWYAGW/eUeApYsLMACLAGW3FPAAqwZA7D1+VhYc+ev2vNuBZjGgqr3Pn24v2v6719d3/qeAAqwAAuwLCzAAizAAizAAizAAiwLCrAAC7AAy/cnwDIwgAVYgCXAMj/uJWABVvgBmL2wjm8vT//+Pj+mPmjyPDOBqjewgAuwAAuwAAuwLHTPE7AAC7DcV8AyAIAFBJ4nYAEWYAmwDAxgAQEwCLAAy70ELMCKMADL/TzPACsawKovWAcu1/s/f59b/3zABVyABViABVgWqvn0/gHLPLivgGUAAEuAJcAyj+4nYAGWAwZYgCXAAizAAizAAizAsiDNr/l4Obh6Awu47BPAAiwHCrAsRAcOsADLPgEswHKgAMtCNL/mA7DMi/sKWAYAsCxE8yvAMn/uKWABloPVDi4L0DwLsF4KLvNl3wCWAQAswAIsARZg2TeABVgOEmBZeOYZsADL/AAWYBkIwLLwzLN5ASy5r4BlACwMC27vzg/m1n/J2HzHnpfowDJf7itgGQALwoIDLPMNWIBl/wAWYAGWAMt8AxZgmSfAAiwDIQsOsMwLYMl9BSwDYGFYaNEOZm+Ame9t89P6mzWv9ps99waXeXJfAcsAOEAWGmCZb8ACLMACLMACLAEWYAEWYNlHgAVYBkSABViABVjmyf0ELDlIFtjqwOp9EKvPd+v8bH1e0UCVHVjuH2ABFmAJsAALsAALsAALsAyMAAuwAAuw7A/3ErDkAAEWYAEWYAGWAAuwgAuoxgMoOrCyH8jR8zT7F4JdDVSAJcAyYIDlIAIWYAGW+XH/AAuwDJAAC7AAC7AAy30ELDlIgAVYgAVYgCXAMmDABVSAte1AVpvn1vfTCq7VQTUbWMe3l6fv5/Pjpv+7+wdYgGWgBFiABViABVjuIWDJQQIswAIswAIsAZYBAyzAAizAAizAcv8AC7AMnNp/IcZWQIz+zXv9wpG55i17s0EOWO4dYAmwAAuwzBtgAZYAy4ABFmABFmABFmC5f4AFWAYOsAALsAALsAALsABLABYPWK3PP/tv3gtcr0K/397vf/Y89AaV+wdYgGUgAQuwAAuwAAuwAAuwBFiABViABViAJcAyYIAFWIAFWIAFWAIswDKQDtr2Azb6N+etdnABa+35GD3v3r8Ay0ABFmABFmABlv3kHgIWYAmwAAuwAAuwAMs9AyxZYIAFWA4sYHn/AiwDBVjxFtpooFT7zXpbf37z+f/PI/o+9f9k4x4CFmAZSMACLMACLPsHsAALsGTBARZgAZb9A1juGWDJggMswDKfgOV9C7AMlIUGWBoLSsBqez5771u/2bz7CFiAZQAtMMACLMCybwALsABLFh5gARZgARZgCbAMEGABFmCZV8CS+whYgGXgLDAAA6hM4BJwuXeAJcACLMAyr4Dl/QuwDAxgARZgmU/AEmABFmAZOAsLsAALsARY7h1gyQEDrliAMp9z59XzPO33D5cnf/zzh8ep/30AAyzAMnAOFmABFmABFmABFmDJAQMswDKvnidgCbAMBGABFmCZT8ACLMACLMACKAut/7zuDTJgqvUPBNXeR3ZQARpgARZgARZgCbDsH8ACLMACLAsOsAALsAALsAALsARYgAVYgOV9AJZ7DFiABVQzFtrsBZl9noEJuIDK/AAWYAGWBQdYgOVAAhZgARZgCbAAy7wJsAALsAALsBw8wAIsAZb9A1iABVgOGlBZaMDkYOaYh733T3SQ+QdCwAIsCw6wAEuABViABVheMGABFmAJsAALsAALsAALsABLgAVYgOV+AhYwAVWGBScBF1ABFmABFmABlgRYgAVYgAVYgAVYkgALsAALsAALsABLAizAAizAqg6s7P+SMFBJwBV13wFVLVABFmBZUIAlARZgARZgARZgAZYEWIAFWIAFWIAFWJIAC7AAC7AAC8iA6iXfh/kTcAEVYAEWYAEWYAGWAAuwAAuwAAuwAAuwZN4AC7AAC7AAC7AASwIswAIswMr2wqsdvGqgmg0ewFKmee/95wMqoAIswAIswAIsARZgARZgARZgARZgCbAAC7AAC7AAC7AASwIswAIswKoxAA5grgUHPA5Opf3S+1963/v78QuHAhZgecGABVhykAALsAALsAyIgwtY3reDBFiAZZ4BC7AAC7AAC7DsF8Ayz+4vYHnhQCXZJyuDyz9gmGfAAizAAiw5SPYLYJln3wNgeeGAJdkngGWeBVgGyAICLDlIgCXzDFiABVyqvsBXn0cHZ9/9kg1Y1X4e8w9YBkACLPsCsADL9wFYBgKwBFgOCGABlu8DsAALsCTAsl+ABLDMP2B54QKI8d/bas/HwVh730Sf1+z/0r7/AQOwvHABloNiPwCW78H3A1iABViA5WA5EPYNYAEWYAEWYAEWYAGWA2NeAcv8A5YXrAgHwMFyIADLvAIYYAEWYFkggAVYgGVe5f4ClhcswAIsAZb96vsCLC/YAgAsB8sBACzAAizAAiygAiwLFLAcGN+X3GPAAiw5AIAlwJLvDbC8UAEWYNkPgCXAAizAAizAAiwL3z7yfdmXgAVYQKWMwKh+AAELsOR7AyzAEmABloUPWPYjYAEWYAGWhQFYgAVYgCXAAizAEmABlgBLvjfAAixZIHvOE2ABFWAJsADLQhNgARZgAZZ8b4AFWBaIBQJYFj5g2Y/2I2ABFmBZIIAFWIBlvgRYgGWBfbSwCi+Yre87+7/UD1yAZT8JsAALsCwwwHJgAEvmH7AAC7AEWN4PYAGW+fc9ABZgCbAAS4BlPwmwAKvaQYzWzfHNpv/8D9//BlgODlDZV+YfsAALsARYgOWA2FeA5fsALMCysADLPDkwgCXzD1iAZWEBFmA5MIBlX5l/wAKshX8+CyoWuEYD7Ll5qD5vfqHEfZ+vfWXe3W/AAiwBFmABFmCZd8ACLMASYAEWYAGWAAuwAMvBAyzAcnAAS+YdsABrj4MGWLmBNRtg5q32P9ABFmAJsADLwQMswHKQAEuABViABViABVgOEmDZV+YZsAALsARY5g2wAMs8AxZgycICLPOW+eBl/821zQ9gARZgAZYAy7wBFmABlvsJWAZEgGXeAAuw5H4ClgFx8AALsBw8wBJgARZgOXDqDaw/P/3d9OfbG2DmEbDMB2ABFmAZCAGWeQQSP495E2AZEAsLsAALsPw8cj8BC7AcNMACLAGW+QAswAIswNJKwOr95x8NMPNYCyRABVjuKWAZCAEWYAGKv3/zJsAyIA4aYAEWYAGWAAuwAAuwBFjmEbDMA2ABFmAZCEUD1ui/n94AM5+xgdK6b71/wAIswAIsARZgARZgAZZ7CliywAALsAALsOR+AhZgARZgAZYAS4AFWIAFWKoGrNHgMr9rAwuoAMs9BSxZaIAFWIAFWHI/AQuwHCjAAizzC1gCLMACLMASYAEWYHmfgOWeApaBEGCN/fvZ+/vL9psfR9uX9g1guaeAZSAEWIAFWIAl9xOwDIiFB1iABViAJcACLMACLAGWeQcsAZZ7ClgGQquBqzeoZoMv+vdoH9kvIwET/ReKdU8By0AIsADLPrJfAMu9BCwDYwECFmBZqPYLYAGWfQBYFqAAC7AAS4Bl3gHLQEj7g8/3an8AFmABFmBZkAIswLI/BFi+B8CSBSnAkv0BWL4/wAIsC1KAJfsDsAALsADLgpTWXfgP93epns/V9a19kXieRz9/9xGwDJCFKQcJsAALsAALsAALsCTAAiwBlnsKWAZCAizAsi8AS4BlgCxMOVCjGw2y0UCyHwDLfQQswLJAJcCyH8wvYAEWYAGWBFiAJcByTwFLFqgAC7DsB8ByHwELsCxQyfffry9//Xryx6N/8/Bq8/Lcfh395/c9AJaBAiwJsAALsNxDwAIsAyEBFmCZF8ASYBkowJJ8/4AFWL4HwDJQgCUBWBuYthYdWNX2u3vofQAWYEkONGB5f4DlfQCWgZAAC7C8PwddgGWgAEsCLMCyvz0vwDJQwCWt3s3xTamfNxqwqu/zrfva/QMswAIsCbAAyz4HLMACLAMiARZgARZgeR+AJcCSAAuwAEuABViAJQFaLVDZ12372/MDLMACLAmwAMu+BizAAiwDIgmwAAuwBFgGDrAkwAIswBJgAVZOcJ0//9VAN3s+gFZ7gm1vYNnHci8By8AAFmAJsABLAiwfNGABlgALsCTAAizAAiwJsCTAAiwD0/68ZwMj+vsHMsCKBCz7Vu4lYAmwAEuA5XuTAMsHD1iAJcACLAmwAMvAABZgCbAk9xKw1P78ZwPL+wU0wJoHKt+bBFgWAmAJsAALsCTAAizA8n4BS4AlARZgGSDAAiwBlmS/ApbGD1hvYHl/gAZY84Dle5MAy8IALAEWYAGWBFiABViABVgCLMl+BCwBlvcLWIAlCbAsjPgD6X1ZQOoHrnNg+b4kwAIswJIFJMCSAAuwBFgCLMCS7DfAEmAJsABLEmABVr6B9H4EcP3yPUmABVgG0vsRYAGWBFiAJcASYAGWJMCycABLFhxgSQIswJIkSYAFWJIkCbAAS5IkCbAAS5IkARZgSZIkwAIsSZIkwAIsSZIEWIAlSZIAC7AkSZIAC7AkSRJgAZYkSQIswJIkSQIswJIkSYAFWJIkCbAAS5IkARZgSZIkARZgSZIkwAIsSZIEWIAlSZIEWIAlSZIAC7AkSRJgAZYkSRJgAZYkSQIswJIkSYAFWJIkCbAAS5IkCbAAS5IkARZgSZIkwAIsSZIkwAIsSZIEWIAlSZIAC7AkSZIAC7AkSRJgAZYkSQIswJIkSQIswJIkSYAFWJIkCbAAS5IkARZgSZIkARZgSZIkwAIsSZIEWIAlSZIEWIAlSZIAC7AkSRJgAZYkSRJgAZYkSQIswJIkSYAFWJIkSYAlSZK0ZoAlSZIEWJIkSYAFWJIkCbAAS5IkCbAkSZIAC7AkSRJgAZYkSRJgSZIkAZYkSRJgAZYkSRJgSZIkAZYkSRJgAZYkSQIswJIkSQIsSZIkwJIkSRJgSZIkAZYkSRJgSZIkCbAkSZIAS5IkCbAkSZIAC7AkSZIAS5IkCbAkSZIAS5IkSYAlSZIEWJIkSYAlSZIkwJIkSQIsSZKk4P0LIPVFqNP9fLwAAAAASUVORK5CYII=">]}

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">]}

(replace: ?TestingMenu)[{ }{<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(if: $Metallicum_InmateHasBreasts)[(link-repeat: "Breasts")[(set: $Metallicum_Test_LastBodyPart to "Breasts")(display: "Metallicum - " + $Metallicum_Test_LastItem)]](else:)[~~Breasts~~]</td> <td>(if: $Metallicum_InmateHasCock)[(link-repeat: "Cock")[(set: $Metallicum_Test_LastBodyPart to "Cock")(display: "Metallicum - " + $Metallicum_Test_LastItem)]](else:)[~~Cock~~]</td> <td>(if: $Metallicum_InmateHasBalls)[(link-repeat: "Balls")[(set: $Metallicum_Test_LastBodyPart to "Balls")(display: "Metallicum - " + $Metallicum_Test_LastItem)]](else:)[~~Balls~~]</td> </tr> <tr> <td></td> <td>(link-repeat: "Back")[(display: "Metallicum - Reset screen")]</td> <td></td> </tr> </table> }]

(replace: ?TestingScreen)[> List available contracts {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td></td> <td style="font-size:150%;width:50%">''Basic''</td> <td></td> </tr> <tr> <td>"Girlfriend"</td> <td>A perverted PlaNet star has contacted the prison with a simple request: "Buying gf". Whether by accident or intentionally, no gender or sexual requirements are listed beyond the sold subject being docile and submissive.</td> <td>Requires willpower 0</td> </tr> <tr> <td>"Oral slut"</td> <td>A prominent businessman offers to buy the subject, assuming they receive adequate oral training.</td> <td>Requires 0 willpower, finish testing with only an oral toy active.</td> </tr> <tr> <td>"Anal slut"</td> <td>A field researcher on Taun has requested the sale of a test subject to "assist" with their research. For reasons unknown, they've specified this test subject should be exceptionally skilled at anal.</td> <td>Requires 0 willpower, finish testing with only an anal toy active.</td> </tr> <tr> <td>"Breeding slut"</td> <td>A system-wide repopulation initiative is looking for fertile young women, whether willing or mind-broken.</td> <td>Requires 0 willpower, finish testing with only a vaginal toy active.</td> </tr> <tr> <td>"Slave"</td> <td>A restaurant-cum-brothel is looking for a new employee. All they ask is that you send them a subject with a suitably scrambled, re-programmable mind.</td> <td>Requires you to finish with hypnosis visor active.</td> </tr> </table><br> <table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td></td> <td style="font-size:150%;width:50%">''Creatures''</td> <td></td> </tr> <tr> <td>"Chewtoy"</td> <td>The DreadKnot keeps facefucking other inmates. They need some dedicated stress relief.</td> <td>Finish with the DreadKnot fucking the subject's mouth.</td> </tr> <tr> <td>"Fleshlight"</td> <td>The DreadKnot keeps threatening to sodomise the guards. Perhaps a test subject will suffice.</td> <td>Finish with the DreadKnot fucking the subject's ass.</td> </tr> <tr> <td>"Bitch"</td> <td>The DreadKnot has requested a "bitch" to break. The Warden has asked you to prepare a suitable test subject.</td> <td>Finish with the DreadKnot fucking the subject's pussy.</td> </tr> <tr> <td>"Puppy mill"</td> <td>The DreadKnot desires a "wife" of their own. Surprisingly, the prison staff have approved this request.</td> <td>Allow the DreadKnot to impregnate the test subject.</td> </tr> <tr> <td>"Tentacle nest"</td> <td>The Warden has announced that there's a shortage of tentacle beasts and is seeking test subjects for an intense breeding program.</td> <td>End the test while the subject has tentacles in their mouth and ass.</td> </tr> <tr> <td>"Drone"</td> <td>An auction is taking place soon, and the Warden wants some new "drones" to sell. With the right "encouragement", you're sure a test subject would be suitable.</td> <td>Finish testing while the Living Latex is active.</td> </tr> </table><br> <table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td></td> <td style="font-size:150%;width:50%">''Hyper''</td> <td></td> </tr> <tr> <td>"Hyper model"</td> <td>Famous hyper-lingerie brand "BeachBalls" is looking for a new poster girl. They're offering to pay handsomely for a suitable candidate.</td> <td>Requires hyper breasts.</td> </tr> <tr> <td>"Cult"</td> <td>A shady cult offers top dollar for a test subject with hyper balls but a non-hyper cock. It's a strange request, but the offer seems legit.</td> <td>Requires hyper balls</td> </tr> <tr> <td>"Bull"</td> <td> An Ovar-operated manufacturing plant is looking for productive and fertile new "Bulls" to buy.</td> <td>Requires hyper balls and hyper cock.</td> </tr> <tr> <td>"Hyper plaything"</td> <td>A self-proclaimed "Mega-Pervert" is offering to buy any hyper-endowed test subjects you can produce. Their identity seems shady, and you're unsure if this is safe for the subject, but what's the worst that could happen?</td> <td>Requires hyper breasts, hyper balls and hyper cock.</td> </tr> <tr> <td>"Breast slave"</td> <td>A buyer has made a request for an excessively enthusiastic, hyper-breasted new "wife".</td> <td>Requires hyper breasts, finish with hypnosis visor active.</td> </tr> <tr> <td>"Ball slave"</td> <td>A notorious and unapologetic cum-addict has made a request for a docile, hyper-endowed pet.</td> <td>Requires hyper balls, finish with hypnosis visor active.</td> </tr> <tr> <td>"Cock slave"</td> <td>A famous brothel is looking for a new "Enforcer" to turn the tables on disrespectful customers.</td> <td>Requires hyper cock, finish with hypnosis visor active.</td> </tr> <tr> <td>"Hyper slave"</td> <td>A breeding firm has requested a particularly docile, overproductive individual to assist their operation.</td> <td>Requires hyper cock, hyper balls, finish with hypnosis visor active.</td> </tr> </table><br> <table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td></td> <td style="font-size:150%;width:50%">''Fatfur''</td> <td></td> </tr> <tr> <td>"Bed"</td> <td>A wealthy weight fetishist is looking to purchase a test subject as a fatty, self-warming bed.</td> <td>Requires excessive weight.</td> </tr> <tr> <td>"Glutton"</td> <td>A request has been made by a buyer with a particular fondness for softer individuals. They want a subject who's completely docile and very, very big.</td> <td>Requires excessive weight, finish with hypnosis visor active.</td> </tr> <tr> <td>"Cum balloon"</td> <td>A crudely-worded request has been made for a test subject who is excessively overweight, hyper-endowed and hypnotised. There's something fishy about this offer.</td> <td>Requires excessive weight, hyper balls, hyper cock, finish with hypnosis visor active.</td> </tr> </table>}]

{(if: $Metallicum_InmateBreastWeight <= 0.24)[The subject has a pair of unassuming, A-cup breasts. They're perky but nothing special.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateBreastWeight <= 0.48)[The subject has a pair of eye-catching B-cup breasts. They wobble softly while the subject attempts to escape.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateBreastWeight <= 0.96)[The subject has a surprisingly large pair of D-cup breasts. You find yourself imagining how soft they must feel but manage to snap out of it.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateBreastWeight <= 1.92)[The subject has a huge pair of H-cup breasts. You honestly wonder what type of bras would be able to contain such a big pair of breasts.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateBreastWeight <= 3.84)[The subject has a pair of utterly huge P-cup breasts. Your back feels a little tender just looking at them, and you feel sorry for the bra that has to contain such massive things.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateBreastWeight <= 7.68)[The test subject's breasts have grown so large that standard cup sizes no longer apply. Instead, much to their embarrassment and your excitement, they are now measured using the standard guidelines for hyper-endowed species. Currently, their breast size is rated "Hyper-6".]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateBreastWeight <= 15.36)[The test subject's restraints are creaking beneath them, and a sizable number of new arms have been deployed to help heft the colossal weight of their chest. Their gargantuan, hyper-endowed breasts are now rated "Hyper-32".]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateBreastWeight <= 30.72)[The subject's aching breasts are now larger than a pair of bowling balls. They have grown so heavy that, according to the safety standards of most major industries, carrying them is considered dangerous. Were you to release the test subject, they would quickly fall to their hands and knees, only able to crawl. Their breasts are now rated Hyper-102.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateBreastWeight <= 61.44)[As a result of your constant testing, each of the subject's breasts now weighs approximately the same as a person, rendering them immobile. Their breasts are now rated Hyper-230.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateBreastWeight <= 122.88)[The subject's breasts now weigh enough to permanently ruin their balance and render them completely immobile, even with hobbyist equipment. Their breasts are now rated Hyper-486.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateBreastWeight <= 245.76)[The test subject's breasts now weigh several times the weight of a person, ensuring that their mobility is impeded enough to warrant the use of industrial equipment. They are now rated Hyper-998, just a few points shy of exceeding the scale altogether.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateBreastWeight <= 491.52)[Both of the subject's breasts have grown to more than half a metre in length. Each one weighs more than a vending machine, rendering them immobile without specialist equipment. The "Hyper" measurement guidelines are no longer suitable; there is nobody in the system living comfortably with breasts so huge.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateBreastWeight <= 983.04)[The test subject's breasts have grown so massive and heavy that each now weighs more than the submersible back on your ship. The subject is no longer within the recommended weight threshold to ride an industrial-grade elevator.]{ }(else:)[The test subject's breasts have grown to a size where each is now significantly heavier than a car. Even individually, they can no longer fit through most standard doorways, and the subject would still have to turn sideways in order to pass through a double door. Due to the insane size of their chest, which unsurprisingly renders them completely immobile, it's unlikely that the test subject will ever be able to navigate successfully without HammerSpace technology. That being said, given the sheer size of their mammaries, it is unlikely they will ever be able to afford such apparel. ]{ (set: _WeightPounds to $Metallicum_InmateBreastWeight * 2.2) (set: _Volume to ($Metallicum_InmateBreastWeight / 0.03) * 33.51) (set: _Volume to it / 2) (set: _Radius to _Volume * 3) (set: _Radius to it / (4 * 3.14159)) (set: _Radius to (ceil:(pow: it , 1/3))) (set: _Diameter to _Radius * 2) (set: _DiameterInches to (ceil: _Diameter / 2.54))} Each of the test subject's breasts are approximately _DiameterInches inches (_Diameter{cm}) in diameter and weigh _WeightPounds{lbs} ($Metallicum_InmateBallWeight{kgs})}

{(set: _WeightRatio to ($Metallicum_InmateWeightPounds / $Metallicum_InmateStartingWeightPounds) * 100) }(if: $Metallicum_ActiveCreature is "Living latex")[> Contract complete: "Living latex" (set: $Metallicum_ContractComplete to true) When testing ends, the latex beast is given as much time as they need to form a proper, permanent symbiosis with the test subject. Once the two are inseparable, they're shipped off to auction and quickly snatched up by a wealthy buyer with a drone fetish. The latex creature, having found a new home, is more than happy to puppeteer the unfortunate test subject, follow their new master's commands, and even perform tricks. Nothing is off limits as long as the creature is allowed to repeatedly, insatiably overstimulate its captive. The original identity of the subject is quickly forgotten, and developing a new one is impossible. They become an "it", a "thing", a "drone". It's unclear if the subject is still cognizant beneath the latex or if their mind has long since melted away, since nobody has seen their face since testing concluded. Muffled moans can be heard from beneath their latex shell, but no words. A final cruelty is imposed by the creature—Throughout the entire ordeal, the unrelenting overstimulation, and the insatiable sexuality of their new owner, the subject is never allowed to cum. Not once. Nor will they ever cum again. They are fated to edge for the rest of their days, with no release in sight. ]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInMouth is "Tentacle" and $Metallicum_Test_ItemInAss is "Tentacle")[> Contract complete: "Tentacle nest" (set: $Metallicum_ContractComplete to true) When testing concludes, it's punctuated by the sudden dispersal of blue "tentacle repellant" gas. Unfortunately for the struggling test subject, this has an unintended effect; instead of retreating to their own chamber, the tentacles immediately, frantically plunge themselves into the subject's already ruined orifices. Tears stream down the subject's cheeks as the writhing tentacles take refuge in their stomach, bulging it to comically pregnant-looking proportions. You watch their middle wobble and bulge as the mass of tentacles writhes around inside it. By the time the guards arrive, it's already too late. Through a sudden and irreversible symbiosis, the tentacles have transformed the subject into their new "core". The subject is functionally unharmed but now has a constantly squirming, brutally horny bundle of tentacles living inside them. By the end of the week, the subject is completely broken, now puppeteered by their new brood. The tentacles haphazardly fuck the subject's body, impregnating them with additional tentacle beasts, which the Warden immediately captures for future tests.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateKnockedUp is "DreadKnot" and $Metallicum_InmateHasPussy is true)[> Contract complete: "Puppy mill" (set: $Metallicum_ContractComplete to true) In a rare and unfortunate twist of fate, the Warden shows "compassion" for the new parents, immediately signing documents that grant ownership of the pregnant test subject to their new husband. They're dragged, whimpering and pleading, their middle sloshing, womb ballooned with litres of steaming hot cum, to the test chamber of their new "mate". Only a few moments after the test subject is dragged out of sight, wet slapping noises ring out once more. It would appear that the DreadKnot, not satisfied with already knocking up the subject, has decided to pump a few extra loads into them for good measure. The subject will spend the rest of their life being repeatedly, forcefully impregnated. In time, they even develop a breeding kink, although they feel horrendously ashamed about it. Their offspring are relocated to Luna, where they live happy lives, completely unaware of the circumstances that resulted in their birth.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInMouth is "DreadKnot")[> Contract complete: "Chew toy" (set: $Metallicum_ContractComplete to true) When testing draws to a close, the DreadKnot expressed their anger and dissatisfaction. Rather than leaving the chamber as instructed, they slam their knot past the subject's teeth, where it immediately, permanently becomes stuck. There's no choice but to simply "give away" the test subject to the DreadKnot. The subject's mouth is permanently buried in the plump flesh of their new master's sheath. His knot is lodged behind their teeth, bulbous and jaw-ruining enough to prevent them from ever popping it free. Now where the DreadKnot goes, the subject goes. Their stomach is bloated and sloshing with Lunisian cum, and their jaw and neck have long since grown numb from constant abuse. From the utter mountain of humiliation they've suffered, the subject's mind has melted to nothing. All they can perceive is the musk flooding their nostrils and the dull feeling of fresh loads hitting their stomach.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInAss is "DreadKnot")[> Contract complete: "Fleshlight" (set: $Metallicum_ContractComplete to true) When the DreadKnot is ordered to leave the test chamber, they outright refuse. In fact, they hold the subject hostage, threatening to fuck them with bone-breaking force. With no other way to preserve the test subject, a begrudging decision is made to transfer their ownership to the DreadKnot. The subject is harnessed to the goliath of a Lunisian so that with each lumbering step the much larger man takes, his gut-ruining cock slams into the whimpering test subject's hole. Their poor prostate smashed to a pulp, their gaping hole beyond any kind of repair; the subject spends the rest of their life drooling and whimpering out broken half-sentences, reduced physically–and mentally–to a living fleshlight.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInPussy is "DreadKnot")[> Contract complete: "Bitch" (set: $Metallicum_ContractComplete to true) In an act of defiance, and an excessively cruel one at that, the DreadKnot forces their entire, borderline hyper cock into the subject's aching pussy. You gulp, horrified when a nearby screen announces, he's just knotted their womb. There's no safe way to separate them, and you begrudgingly make a request for the subject's ownership to be transferred to the DreadKnot. The subject spends the rest of their days whimpering beneath their new husband as he wrecks their pussy, smashing into them with enough force to ensure no one else will ever be able to satisfy the subject again. The last report you receive indicates that the subject is heavily pregnant. With quintuplets, no less.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateBallWeight >= 245.76 and $Metallicum_InmateCockLengthCM >= 159.48 and $Metallicum_Test_ItemOnHead is "Hypnosis visor" and _WeightRatio >= 300)[> Contract complete: "Cum balloon" (set: $Metallicum_ContractComplete to true) After the subject is reduced to a mind-broken, hypnotised, and hyper-endowed plaything, the buyer is notified. ... Nobody arrives. You soon realise, much to your shock, that the request was an elaborate, mean-spirited prank designed to ruin one of the unlucky inmates. Now so broken that there's no hope of recovering, they become addicted to eating and climaxing–and soon discover that they can combine the two. With an obscene disregard for their own dignity–and much to the disgust of the Warden and other guards–the subject begins repeatedly fellating themselves, inflating and growing even fatter off of their own cum. They're kept in a specialised, if far too small, cell. Nobody makes an offer to buy them, and the poor subject is left to cum their brains out until their stomach grows so big that they can no longer reach their own cock.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateCockLengthCM >= 159.48 and $Metallicum_InmateBallWeight >= 245.76 and $Metallicum_Test_ItemOnHead is "Hypnosis visor")[> Contract complete: "Hyper slave" (set: $Metallicum_ContractComplete to true) After testing concludes, the test subject is bought by a prominent breeding firm. They're promptly shuttled away to their new job, where their hyper-endowments are put to use knocking up countless breeding slaves. The hypnosis visor that had been scrambling their mind during the test becomes a permanent piece of their attire, ensuring that as they impregnate hundreds of women each week, they remain completely oblivious. The only thing they can perceive is the constant, mind-shattering pleasure.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemOnHead is "Hypnosis visor" and $Metallicum_InmateBreastWeight >= 245.76)[> Contract complete : "Breast slave" (set: $Metallicum_ContractComplete to true) After the conclusion of the test, the subject is immediately bought by an excited male buyer. Through the use of specialised equipment, the subject and their ridiculous breasts and loaded onto a waiting dropship. The test subject, now hyper-breasted, becomes something of a mega-titted "Trophy wife". Due to their constant exposure to hypnotic spirals, they have become utterly obsessed with their own chest, to the point of constantly begging others to touch, squeeze and fuck it. Their new husband, all of his friends, and even the occasional stranger make good use of this new personality quirk. You receive a final transmission from the buyer: An image of the test subject, drenched in cum and holding up peace signs, while two complete strangers fuck their nipples. From the look of their noticeably lop-sided breasts, it appears they're also used as a pair of unconventional cum-dumps.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateCockLengthCM >= 159.48 and $Metallicum_Test_ItemOnHead is "Hypnosis visor")[> Contract complete: "Hyper cock slave" (set: $Metallicum_ContractComplete to true) The test subject is bought as an unconventional "Enforcer" by a famous brothel. A plush transport ship soon appears and transports them to their new role. As a result of repeated hypnotic suggestions, the hyper-dicked test subject has grown utterly addicted to the thought of cramming their unwieldy, body-ruining cock into the tightest holes they can find. The brothel takes advantage of this new compulsion, using it to its fullest potential. The subject is released only in response to unruly or disrespectful patrons, with utterly obscene results. Attached to a "Thank you" message from the buyer are a number of photographs, all showing strangers lying insensate and gaping, no doubt the victims of the monster you created.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemOnHead is "Hypnosis visor" and $Metallicum_InmateBallWeight >= 245.76)[> Contract complete : "Ball slave" (set: $Metallicum_ContractComplete to true) No later than testing concludes, the test subject's new owner arrives. They pace around the subject, licking their lips and never once diverting their gaze from their plaything's multi-tonne, audibly sloshing balls. Due to the extreme exposure to hypnotic suggestions, the subject has become addicted to the act of climaxing. Often, the sensation of a climax is enough to coax out a second one, resulting in a mind-shattering cycle of near-constant orgasms. Their new owner, a known cum-addict, takes full advantage of this. They use their new toy's cum as everything from food, to drink, to the contents of a sticky, steamy cum-bath, to various activities you're far too embarrassed to even think about.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemOnHead is "Hypnosis visor" and _WeightRatio >= 300)[> Contract complete : "Glutton" (set: $Metallicum_ContractComplete to true) At the conclusion of the test, the subject is rolled towards the hangar. It takes half a dozen guys and specialised equipment to move the glutton any distance at all. When they're finally pushed and prodded onto a waiting vessel, they're soon met by their new "Boyfriend", who is utterly elated by their endless pudge. They're soon hauled away to their new home, where their new overfeeding routine immediately begins. Through the unceasing hypnotic suggestions beamed into their brain during testing, the subject has become completely addicted to eating. They realise that they've been programmed and even actively make attempts to control themselves, but they simply can't bring themselves to refuse a single morsel. Their attempts to refuse food or otherwise rebel against the whims of their new lover are met with playful teasing; oftentimes, food is dangled just out of reach until they submit again, begging to be fed and promising to be good. Eventually, through a combination of overfeeding, overstimulation, and the constant, debauched exploration of their still fattening body, they begrudgingly accept their new life.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateBreastWeight >= 245.76 and $Metallicum_InmateBallWeight >= 245.76 and $Metallicum_InmateCockLengthCM >= 159.48)[> Contract complete: "Hyper plaything" (set: $Metallicum_ContractComplete to true) The second testing concludes you're informed that the buyer has arrived. Their identity is hidden beneath a flowing cloak, but you catch glimpses of an expensive-looking HammerSpace jumpsuit beneath it, suggesting that they must be considerably hyper-endowed, just like the subject. The test subject lets out a worried gasp as they're carried by a hydraulic crane and loaded aboard the stranger's ship. Payment is made, and the ship immediately departs for places unknown. Their fate will be unknown, at least for a few months. The test subject resurfaces on Hedon, where they've been chained up and abandoned. Their holes, as well as their mind, are gaping and ruined. You can only imagine what kind of prolonged, sexual ruination must have taken place to leave them in such a state and feel guilt that you're at least partially responsible for it.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateBreastWeight >= 245.76)[> Contract complete : "Hyper model" (set: $Metallicum_ContractComplete to true) Once testing ends, the subject is promptly sold off as the new poster girl for a burgeoning hyper-lingerie firm. They protest as they, and their unwieldy, gigantic breasts, are squashed onto a transport ship and whisked away to parts unknown. Their monstrous breasts and crimson-flushed cheeks are soon displayed on billboards throughout the system. You can barely even see the lingerie in most pictures. Behind the scenes, everyone from the photographers to the CEO of the company teases the subject for their comically large chest. When they're not doing another humiliating photo shoot, they're having their breasts fondled and touched, and are powerless to refuse.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateCockLengthCM >= 159.48 and $Metallicum_InmateBallWeight >= 245.76)[> Contract complete: "Bull" (set: $Metallicum_ContractComplete to true) After testing concludes, the hyper-endowed test subject is sold off to an Over-operated manufacturing plant as their latest "Bull". The subject protests as they're unceremoniously forced onto a waiting transport ship and stolen away to their new vocation. Upon arrival, they're hooked up to an industrial-grade fucking machine. With a milking machine constantly jerking their cock, a prostate massager so strong they can feel it in their teeth, and a constant projection of all kinds of porn directly ahead of them, the subject can do nothing but blow load after load. They'll spend the rest of their days being milked for all that they're worth.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateBallWeight >= 245.76)[> Contract complete : "Cult" (set: $Metallicum_ContractComplete to true) As testing concludes, a dozen or so purple-robed cultists arrive to collect the subject. They say very little, just watching intently as the subject and their hyper balls are loaded on their jury-rigged vessel. The subject is then flown to an isolated moon, wherein their unfortunate new physiology is used to conduct all kinds of illicit rituals in service of a long-forgotten God of pleasure. Their balls are so much more productive than their cock that a constant-high-pressure stream of cum soon jets from it constantly, and their mind soon turns to mush under pleasure, lack of relief, and continuous worship.]{ }(else-if: _WeightRatio >= 300)[> Contract complete : "Bed" (set: $Metallicum_ContractComplete to true) After testing concludes, all manner of industrial-grade equipment is deployed. It's the only way to articulate and roll the subject towards the hangar, and their new owner. Once they're loaded onto a waiting ship, and adequate checks have been performed to ensure the subject won't break it on takeoff, the ship jets off to places unknown. The test subject spends the rest of their days as an immobile, constantly wobbling fat bed. They're constantly force-fed in order to maintain their mountainous, pillowy-soft physique. Eventually, the combination of force-feeding, the excessive affection from their new owner, and the knowledge of their complete inability to escape erode their mind. Their head becomes just as doughy as the rest of them.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemOnHead is "Hypnosis visor")[> Contract complete : "Slave" (set: $Metallicum_ContractComplete to true) Shortly after testing concludes, the test subject is shipped off to their new job. At the buyer's request, the hypnosis visor remains on their head as they're taken away, continuing to scramble their thoughts and stamp out any resistance, right up until they're redressed in a skimpy, revealing uniform. They end up working in a shady burger joint, the main theme of which is hypnotised, slutty drones. Their willpower reduced to smouldering cinders, and a hypnotised trance preventing them from even remotely perceiving their humiliating fate; the subject simply follows any orders they're given. For the rest of their days, the subject simply carries out the, often perverted, requests of their bosses and clients. Whether it's climbing beneath a table to suck off a customer while they eat, or allowing one of their managers to rearrange their guts in the storeroom, they never complain. Not once.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInMouth is not "" and $Metallicum_Test_ItemInPussy is "" and $Metallicum_Test_ItemInAss is "")[> Contract complete : "Oral slut" (set: $Metallicum_ContractComplete to true) When testing concludes, a purchase is soon made. The test subject is unceremoniously sold off to a prominent businessman, who keeps them as an under-desk stress reliever. Conveniently left out of the buyer's details was their hyper-endowment. The unprepared, but very cock-hungry subject soon finds themselves faced with a cock that threatens to ruin their throat. When they hesitate, out of nothing but self-preservation, their new master grips their hair and forces inch, after inch, after inch down their spasming throat. They spend the rest of their days gagging and spluttering, enduring the sensations of a cock thicker than their throat bulging it out, the indescribably shameful sensation of their lover's cock-head punching the base of their stomach, or the worrying feeling of their stomach being filled almost to bursting with cum.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInAss is not "" and $Metallicum_Test_ItemInPussy is "" and $Metallicum_Test_ItemInMouth is "")[> Contract complete : "Anal slut" (set: $Metallicum_ContractComplete to true) After their spirit, and hole, are adequately broken, the test subject is sold off to a field researcher on Taun. You receive some updates from the research team, indicating that they've been of great use to a recent expedition–albeit as a bartering chip. In return for information and oral histories, inhabitants of the planet are allowed to "borrow" them. Some days, they're bound in the heart of a Taur village, their hole ruined by dozens of barbed, foot-long cocks every hour. Others, Gnolls perform strange, sexual rituals with the test subject at its centre. They trace symbols across their skin and pray to unknown Deities... all before fucking the subject until their stomach rounds, and they look utterly pregnant. On their "days off", the research team simply keeps the subject at home, blowing loads into them until they pass out. The subject, at least weeks later, no longer has the mental fortitude to complain about any of it.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInPussy is not "" and $Metallicum_Test_ItemInAss is "" and $Metallicum_Test_ItemInMouth is "")[> Contract complete : "Breeding slut" (set: $Metallicum_ContractComplete to true) When testing concludes, the test subject is wold off to a system-wide breeding initiative. They're utterly powerless as they're hauled away, locked up in a specialised breeding harness, and then repeatedly fucked, day-in-day-out. As expected, it isn't long before they're pregnant. They birth the first stranger's children only a few weeks after testing ends, their pregnancy artificially accelerated by a plethora of medical, hormone-altering, and mind-shattering drugs. No later than a few hours after each birth, they're being knocked up again. In the subject's faltering mind, the only thing worse than their new predicament is that they're beginning to enjoy it... Current estimates suggest that the test subject, through their hyper-accelerated pregnancies, has already birthed dozens of offspring from just as many fathers.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_Test_WillPower is 0)[> Contract complete : "Girlfriend" (set: $Metallicum_ContractComplete to true) When testing concludes, the subject is promptly shipped off to their new "Boyfriend",. As it turns out, they're a prominent PlaNet star with almost daily broadcasts. Thanks to their status, you're able to watch everything from the initial "Unboxing" of their new toy, to the exploration of their new "Girlfriend"'s body, to the hours of debauchery that follow. Having had their willpower whittled away, almost to nothing at all, the test subject is powerless to refuse. You watch as each of their half-hearted refusals is met with a new, humiliating punishment, often suggested by the legions of perverts watching things unfold. By the end of the week, the test subject is being fucked senseless for the entire system to watch. Now broken beyond repair, the subject becomes completely docile. They whimper out canned lines, presumably hammered into them between broadcasts, and do their best to endure the watching eyes of thousands of strangers.]{ }(else:)[(goto: "Metallicum - Test ends")] (if: $Metallicum_ContractComplete is true)[//For completing an optional contract, you gain an extra 250 credits!//] --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-repeat: "Continue")[(set: $Credits to it + 250)(goto: "Metallicum - Test ends")]</td> </tr> </table> }

{(display: "Metallicum - Initial ID") (display: "Metallicum - Get new ID and seed") (display: "Metallicum - Get species") (display: "Metallicum - Get sex") (display: "Metallicum - Get name") (display: "Metallicum - Get homeworld") (display: "Metallicum - Get origin") (display: "Metallicum - Get crime") (display: "Metallicum - Get body") }

{(if: $Metallicum_InmateCockLengthCM <= 14)[The test subject has an unassuming cock which is within the average size and weight for their species.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateCockLengthCM <= 21)[The test subject boasts an impressive but still believable cock. It would be easy for its size to be confused for simple luck.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateCockLengthCM <= 31.5)[The test subject's cock teeters on the upper limit of what's naturally possible for most of the species in the system. They try and fail to hide their discomfort, their cock now weighing as much as a 2-litre bottle of soda.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateCockLengthCM <= 47.25)[The test subject now boasts a hyper cock, albeit a "small" one. Their days of shopping at regular underwear stores are long gone.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateCockLengthCM <= 70.88)[The test subject's hyper cock is now so girthy and heavy that it would comically bulge any kind of clothing they attempted to hide it with. If they got an erection, they'd destroy their lower clothing in an instant.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateCockLengthCM <= 106.32)[The test subject's hyper cock weighs as much as a person, which now immobilises them completely. When they become particularly aroused, the weight of their cock jerking around threatens to damage their restraints.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateCockLengthCM <= 159.48)[The test subject's hyper cock looks like a big, heavy body pillow. Its weight ensures that the subject will never escape, even if their bindings were to fail.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateCockLengthCM <= 239.22)[The test subject's massive, constantly-leaking cock weighs almost a ton. Dozens of supportive arms and straps have been deployed to prevent it from crushing them or damaging the test chamber.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_InmateCockLengthCM <= 358.83)[The test subject's cock is now over three metres in length and weighs over two tonnes. It's gotten so massive that even the most confident size Queens would turn the test subject away.]{ }(else:)[As a result of constant exposure to the hyper ray, the test subject's cock has grown to truly monstrous proportions. It's over 5 metres in length, over a metre wide, and weighs over 10 tonnes. It's so massive and heavy that it's beginning to dent the reinforced floor beneath it.] (set: _InmateCockWidthCM to (round:$Metallicum_InmateCockLengthCM * 0.3)) (set: _Radius to _InmateCockWidthCM / 2) (set: _Radius to _Radius * _Radius) (set: _Volume to 3.14159 * _Radius * $Metallicum_InmateCockLengthCM) (set: _Weight to _Volume / 175) (set: _Weight to _Weight * 0.16) (set: _WeightPounds to _Weight * 2.2) (set: _InmateCockWidthInches to _InmateCockWidthCM * 0.394) (set: _InmateCockLengthInches to $Metallicum_InmateCockLengthCM * 0.394) (set: _Weight to (round: it * 100)) (set: _Weight to it / 100) (set: _WeightPounds to (round: it * 100)) (set: _WeightPounds to it / 100) (set: _InmateCockLengthInches to (round: it * 100)) (set: _InmateCockLengthInches to it / 100) (set: _InmateCockWidthInches to (round: it * 100)) (set: _InmateCockWidthInches to it / 100) (set: $Metallicum_InmateCockLengthCM to (round: it * 100)) (set: $Metallicum_InmateCockLengthCM to it / 100) (set: _InmateCockLengthInches to (round: it * 100)) (set: _InmateCockLengthInches to it / 100) The subject's cock is _InmateCockLengthInches inches ($Metallicum_InmateCockLengthCM{cm}), _InmateCockWidthInches inches wide (_InmateCockWidthCM{cm}), and weighs _WeightPounds{lbs} (_Weight{kg}).}

(replace: ?TestingMenu)[{ }{<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(if: $Metallicum_ActiveCreature is not "")[~~DreadKnot~~](else:)[(link-repeat: "DreadKnot")[(display: "Metallicum - DreadKnot")]]</td> <td>(if: $Metallicum_ActiveCreature is not "")[~~Tentacle beast~~](else:)[(link-repeat: "Tentacle beast")[(display: "Metallicum - Tentacles")]]</td> <td>(if: $Metallicum_ActiveCreature is not "")[~~Living latex~~](else:)[(link-repeat: "Living latex")[(display: "Metallicum - Living latex")]]</td> </tr> <tr> <td>(if: $Metallicum_ActiveCreature is "")[~~Remove creatures~~](else:)[(link-repeat: "Remove creatures ")[(display: "Metallicum - Remove creatures")](if: $Metallicum_ActiveCreature is "DreadKnot" and $Metallicum_DreadKnotRemovalCount is 1 and $ContentWarnings is not "Off")[🤕😥]]</td> <td>(link: "Back")[(display: "Metallicum - Reset screen")]</td> <td></td> </tr> </table>    }]

(replace: ?TestingScreen)[(if: $Metallicum_ActiveCreature is not "")[> ERROR : Please remove current creature from the test chamber]{ }(else:)[(set: $Metallicum_ActiveCreature to "DreadKnot")> Introduce creature : DREADKNOT {(set: $ChoiceList to (a:)) (if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInMouth is "")[(set: $ChoiceList to it + (a:"Mouth"))] (if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInPussy is "" and $Metallicum_InmateHasPussy is true)[(set: $ChoiceList to it + (a:"Pussy"))] (if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInAss is "")[(set: $ChoiceList to it + (a:"Ass"))] (set:$Choice to (either:...$ChoiceList)) }(if: $Choice is "Mouth")[{(set: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInMouth to "DreadKnot")(set: $Metallicum_Test_LastBodyPart to "Mouth")(set: $Metallicum_InmateMouthReserved to true) }The test subject cries out as the DreadKnot climbs atop them in a '69' position. They force the tip of their cock past the subject's lips, let out a dominant growl, and immediately begin smashing their manhood down the poor test subject's throat. "I'm gonna... ruin your fuckin' throat, slut", the massive Lunisian announces. You don't doubt it. Although the subject's throat is bulging painfully, and tears are running down their cheeks, a nearby panel indicates that they're still (relatively) safe.]{ }(else-if: $Choice is "Pussy")[{(set: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInPussy to "DreadKnot")(set: $Metallicum_Test_LastBodyPart to "Pussy")(set: $Metallicum_InmatePussyReserved to true) }The test subject struggles as the gigantic Lunisian grips their thighs, lining up his pelvis-obliterating cock with their pussy. The subject pleads and begs, but their impromptu lover is completely undeterred. "You're gonna carry my pups, bitch", he growls at them, his face flushed with a combination of lust and hunger. A moment later, he's slamming into their slit. You watch as each thrust bulges the subject's lower stomach, leaving them breathless and whimpering. A nearby panel reads "Pregnancy risk".]{ }(else-if: $Choice is "Ass")[{(set: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInAss to "DreadKnot")(set: $Metallicum_Test_LastBodyPart to "Ass")(set: $Metallicum_InmateAssReserved to true) }The test subject pleads with the gigantic Lunisian as he begins lapping at their vulnerable ass. You watch, a little jealous, as he slathers their hole with a copious volume of saliva. He stands soon after, prodding his tip against their rear. "Gonna tear you apart, fucktoy." he growls down at them moments before forcing over a foot of cock into the test subject's spasming insides. The subject lets out a silent scream, whimpering and shuddering as their new lover begins to bulge their stomach.]{ (display: "Metallicum - Reset screen") (display: "Metallicum - Item status")}]]

(replace: ?TestingScreen)[> Remove creatures (if: $Metallicum_ActiveCreature is "DreadKnot")[{ (if: $Metallicum_DreadKnotRemovalCount > 0)[(goto: "DreadKnot bad ending")] (else:)[(set: $Metallicum_DreadKnotRemovalCount to it + 1)] }(if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInMouth is "DreadKnot")[The DreadKnot turns his head towards the one-way glass... and you. "Pull me out before I finish. I'll skullfuck you," he growls, snarling and glaring directly at you. You step back from the controls completely involuntarily. The Lunisian's threat is too horrible to bear.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInPussy is "DreadKnot")[The DreadKnot begins smashing into the test subject even more violently than before. As he does, indignant about the choice you've just made, he turns his head towards you. "Make me finish early, and I'll make you my next fleshlight." he snarls, staring you right in the eyes, despite the one-way glass that separates you. For fear of the DreadKnot hurting the subject–and, more importantly, you–you refrain from trying to remove him.]{ }(else:)[The DreadKnot grips the subject's thighs even more roughly, smashing into their already wrecked pussy with additional force. A nearby panel indicates that they're in danger of injuring the subject, should they thrust with any more force. "Try to pull me out of here; I'll make //you// pregnant." the imposing wolf snarls. There's no way you're going in there... With no other option, you can do nothing but wait for the DreadKnot to knock up the subject.]]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_ActiveCreature is "Tentacle beast")[A blue-ish gas is dispensed from vents at the top of the room, slowly drifting down towards the test subject and the tentacled monstrosity that's exploring them. The gas doesn't appear to affect the test subject, but the tentacle beast immediately withdraws from their victim and hurriedly pulls itself back into the adjacent test chamber. The wall reappears a moment later, re-containing the creature.{ (set: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInMouth to "") (set: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInPussy to "") (set: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInAss to "") (set: $Metallicum_ActiveCreature to "")}]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_ActiveCreature is "Living latex")[A pair of electrified prongs rise from the test chamber floor on either side of the subject. As they do, infrequent, momentary sparks jump between them, some striking the subject's rubbery confines. This seems to have an immediate effect on the latex creature, which quivers and hisses, turning back to a liquid. You watch as it hurriedly half-reforms into its original, humanoid form, and goopily crawls back into its own test chamber. After a few additional moments, wherein the dregs of the creature leave the subject and also hurry to escape, the test chamber wall closes, separating the creature and the subject.{ (set: $Metallicum_ActiveCreature to "")}]{ (display: "Metallicum - Reset screen")}]

--- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <td>(link: "^")[(replace: ?OptionsMenu)[(display: "Expanded menu")]]</td> </table> }

--- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td colspan=4>(link: "v")[(replace: ?OptionsMenu)[(display: "Collapsed menu")]]</td> </tr> <td> (link: "Main menu")[(reload:)] </td> <td> (link: "Save / Load")[(set: $LastPassage to (passage:)'s name)(set: $Footer_DoNotDisplay to true)(go-to:"Saves")] </td> <td> (link: "Settings")[(set: $LastPassage to (passage:)'s name)(set: $Footer_DoNotDisplay to true)(go-to:"Comfort options")] </td> <td> (link-repeat: "Give feedback")[(open-url: "https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSc5WOafdbyQ-WbnbOqGmtzAf7X8k6G3UlKtVBG4nyK_YQ5iXw/viewform?usp=sf_link")] </td> </table> }

You just can't help yourself. Cautiously approaching the armour, you make your way around to the access levers on the back and, once you're one hundred percent sure nobody's watching, you give it a sharp tug. The armour hisses and unfolds, allowing you entry. There's just one problem... The inside is not what you expected at all. Rather than an interior that matches the futuristic, military exterior, you find a writhing mass of wires, pistoning sex toys, and a helmet that's sparking and crackling with electricity. Naturally, you try to backpedal. This was a trap–How didn't you see that?! Unfortunately, wires have already begun to ensnare you. You're pulled, struggling and screaming into the suit. You cry out as your face is tugged towards the sparking electrodes in the helmet and a girthy-looking cock positioned exactly at mouth height. Bracing yourself on the outside of the armour, you're just barely strong enough to fight against the wires. If you can just keep this up until someone arrives to help you- Your hand slips, and before you regain your grip, it's too late. The helmet-mounted cock plunges down your throat, electricity surges into your temples, and you immediately lose control of your muscles. As you twitch helplessly, the suit closes, locking you inside. Inside the suit, an oversized, metallic phallus immediately squashes into your spasming hole. At your crotch, a milking machine sets to work, jerking your confused cock far too fast. Soon, the suit is hammering into your guts with ruthless precision and a complete lack of care for your well-being. What's worse, the entire thing feels as if it's electrified, and with each zap against your aching prostate, you blow another unwilling orgasm into the suit. A few seconds after your first orgasm, you feel something warm spewing from the end of the dildo in your throat. You realise, much to your horror, that the suit is repurposing and force-feeding you your own cum. It's all too much to bear... you cum over and over again, feeling your willpower–your mind–slipping away. You resign yourself to your fate, to being imprisoned forever as a mindless, overstimulated husk. //ZAP!// You let out a muffled scream, struggling and crying as a blinding, painful, particularly high-voltage surge of electricity blasts into either side of your head. As the pain fades, you realise that you're completely lucid again. The darkness that was about to overtake you has been forcefully zapped from your brain. You're almost grateful... until you realise that the only thing even remotely close to escaping your predicament is now denied to you. All of the suit's security features now work against you, preventing you from ever being rescued. Unable to progress but completely lucid, you'll spend the rest of your days being repeatedly, mercilessly driven to mind-melting orgasm, then shocked back to your senses. From inside the nearby bar, one of the patrons grins as their communicator beeps. Their table bursts into perverse celebration as they learn the trapped suit they stole has claimed an unfortunate victim. Your black box activates. Your new suit is even kind enough to boost the signal. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>(link-goto: "Twitch and whine" , "Ship - Respawn")</td></tr> </table>}

As you approach the bar, you notice something interesting. A few paces from the entrance, and just out of view of the patrons inside, there's a mechanised suit of armour. It's far and above anything you would have expected from the pirates and smugglers of the station, and you find yourself approaching it without thinking. The armour plating is pristine, and you spot electrified defences under them. There are auxiliary power cells, what appears to be some kind of modernised shield generator... Hell, the suit even seems to be your size. You catch yourself glancing around, and find nobody's watching you. From where you and the armoured suit are standing, nobody can see you. This window won't last long, however... Do you steal the suit? --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Steal the suit->Metris-2 - Fucksuit bad end]]</td> <td>(link-goto: "Leave it" , "Metris-2 - Bar")</td> </tr> </table> }

Excited and needy, you climb through the hole in the wall. It's more than wide enough for your upper body, but your hips have no chance of squeezing through–much to your embarrassment. As you consider the dimensions of your hips and plush derriere, you suddenly hear footsteps. They're exceptionally heavy and metallic-sounding. Armour? A cyborg? Your mind races as your soon-to-be-lover approaches. Whatever they are, one thing is obvious; their dig is huge, girthy and hard. It feels cold... synthetic, you think. You grit your teeth as they grind inch after inch into your guts, gasping as their metallic crotch presses against your cheeks. Just as you expect them to pull back, you feel their metallic cock surge and shift, a knot forming from seemingly nowhere. You're confused; they're not moving. You're sure they didn't cum already. What are they- //ZAP!// You let out an involuntary scream as your body spasms and clenches. You immediately try to pull away from the electric shocks, but your hips prevent you from escaping to the other side of the hole. Confused pleasure is mixed in with the pain, and you realise, much to your horror, that the sudden shock managed to smash a messy load from your twitching cock. //ZAP ZAP ZAP!// Tears roll down your face, and your muscles ache. With each painful shock, a new climax tears through you. It isn't long before a sizable puddle exists beneath you. You lose track of time, barely conscious by the time your unknown lover pulls from your fried hole. You've been fucked utterly silly, clumsily slipping from the hole in the wall and collapsing into the puddle of cum beneath you. Eventually, you recover, although your insides continue to spasm for several hours afterwards. You're not sure what the stranger got out of that, aside from abusing you. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Twitch and gasp" , "Metris-2 - Bar")</td> </tr> </table>}

{<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td style="font-size:300%">Vulpis</td></tr> </table> } (text-style:"underline")[''Background''] A hyper-militarist planet where the military, weaponry and espionage are seen as components of a planet-wide pseudo-religion. Upwards of 99% of the population have military careers in some capacity, and boast training beyond most other planets' most skilled militaries. For their violence, xenophobia and the extreme danger they pose to the system, the residents of Vulpis are despised throughout the system. (text-style:"underline")[''Before the fall''] History books suggest that Vulpis was once entirely covered in lush forests, punctuated by clear oceans and rivers. During the industrial age, however, contact was made by off-worlders. Fearing that their utopia would be conquered, Vulpis began a violent period of militarisation resulting in significant damage to the planet and its ecosystem. Vulpis was responsible for the firing of the planet-buster that destroyed Metris and thus caused "The Fall". (text-style:"underline")[''After the fall''] Vulpis has only grown more militaristic since "The Fall", rightly fearing retaliation for their act of system-wide aggression. Military service is mandatory for everyone from ages 8-30, and many non-military careers have been reframed with military components and integrated into the planetary militia. (text-style:"underline")[''Environment ''] Vulpis is a ruined utopia made up of sparse forests, gigantic concrete cities, and massive no-mans lands where weapons testing takes place. Due to excessive weapons testing across the planet, many cities are more akin to bunkers and armoured hideaways. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>(link-goto:"Return","Codex")</td></tr> </table>}

{<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td style="font-size:300%">The Scar</td></tr> </table> } (text-style:"underline")[''Background''] // (text-style:"underline")[''Before the fall''] // (text-style:"underline")[''After the fall''] // (text-style:"underline")[''Environment ''] // --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>(link-goto:"Return","Codex")</td></tr> </table>}

{<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td style="font-size:300%">Домой</td></tr> </table> } (text-style:"underline")[''Background''] A struggling desert world with intense technophobia. Bounty hunters scour the planet for anyone harbouring electronic devices. Hidden away, black markets continue to sell illegal technologies. (text-style:"underline")[''Before the fall''] Before 'The Fall', the planet boasted a burgeoning and soon-to-be space-faring society. Their planet was entirely welcoming to outsiders and rapidly assimilated new technologies, hoping to embark on an adventure to meet their new neighbours. (text-style:"underline")[''After the fall''] Having watched the neighbouring planet of Metris be destroyed, the heads of government made the decision to regress their own society technologically, hoping to avoid being targeted by planet-busters. Over time, this sensible refusal of technology turned into religious, technophobia-fueled fanaticism, with any electronics regarded as outright illegal. (text-style:"underline")[''Environment ''] Arid deserts with sparse oases dotted around, oftentimes with towns having built up around them. There are also subterranean refuges dotted around, oftentimes owned by smugglers and black market dealers. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>(link-goto:"Return","Codex")</td></tr> </table>}

{<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td style="font-size:300%">Ovis</td></tr> </table> } (text-style:"underline")[''Background''] An icy, frost-covered planet inhabited by feathered faux-raptors. Currently, this planet is the home of the Breeder's Guild and an unscrupulous black market. (text-style:"underline")[''Before the fall''] The Ovar were very low-tech when Metris was destroyed, and only had their first contact with other species when refugees arrived on their planet. They had very little going for them, despite a very quick pregnancy and egg-laying cycle. Due to their non-verbal communications, their species required an unusually large number of specialised translator units, something that slowed their ability to take to the galactic stage and causing rampant "Stupid bird" stereotypes to permeate early public opinion. (text-style:"underline")[''After the fall''] The Ovar are now a technological powerhouse and are especially renowned for their research into genetic modifications. Currently, their biggest contributions to the system are their ongoing efforts to repopulate rare species. Through relatively minor generic alterations, both sexes of Ovar can be impregnated and lay eggs that exclude their personal generics. (text-style:"underline")[''Environment ''] Ovis is significantly colder than any other inhabited world in the system. The surface temperature ranges between -40C to -70C, requiring the use of a specialised heating suit should one decide to brave the wilderness. The majority of cities can be found underground atop geothermal vents. However, many traditional Ovar outposts are composed of only sparse tents and structures. It should be noted that the interiors of Ovis' cities are climate-controlled, allowing off-worlders to navigate them without fear of freezing. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>(link-goto:"Return","Codex")</td></tr> </table>}

{<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td style="font-size:300%">Procya</td></tr> </table> } (text-style:"underline")[''Background''] // (text-style:"underline")[''Before the fall''] // (text-style:"underline")[''After the fall''] // (text-style:"underline")[''Environment ''] // --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>(link-goto:"Return","Codex")</td></tr> </table>}

{<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td style="font-size:300%">Sciurus Metallicum</td></tr> </table> } (text-style:"underline")[''Background''] // (text-style:"underline")[''Before the fall''] // (text-style:"underline")[''After the fall''] // (text-style:"underline")[''Environment ''] // --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>(link-goto:"Return","Codex")</td></tr> </table>}

{<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td style="font-size:300%">Sciurus Metallicum</td></tr> </table> } (text-style:"underline")[''Background''] // (text-style:"underline")[''Before the fall''] // (text-style:"underline")[''After the fall''] // (text-style:"underline")[''Environment ''] // --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>(link-goto:"Return","Codex")</td></tr> </table>}

{<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td style="font-size:300%">Hedon</td></tr> </table> } (text-style:"underline")[''Background''] // (text-style:"underline")[''Before the fall''] // (text-style:"underline")[''After the fall''] // (text-style:"underline")[''Environment ''] // --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>(link-goto:"Return","Codex")</td></tr> </table>}

{<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td style="font-size:300%">Na'Ja</td></tr> </table> } (text-style:"underline")[''Background''] // (text-style:"underline")[''Before the fall''] // (text-style:"underline")[''After the fall''] // (text-style:"underline")[''Environment ''] // --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>(link-goto:"Return","Codex")</td></tr> </table>}

{<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td style="font-size:300%">Vulpis</td></tr> </table> } (text-style:"underline")[''Description''] Vulpis are sentient fox-like humanoids resident on the planet Vulpis. Thanks to constant training and military-grade medical nanites, most are toned and muscular, and the average height for a fully-grown Vulpis is somewhere around six-feet tall. (text-style:"underline")[''Culture''] Vulpis are subject to an extreme and oftentimes brutal life of military servitude. From a young age, their aptitudes are monitored, and their progression is streamlined to create versatile and effective soldiers. The fanaticism of their military is so great that certain figureheads of the military are considered religious idols. Tech-priests are an example of this overlap–technical savants tasked with ensuring interactions with new or old technologies are beneficial to the planet. Despite the propaganda they endure from birth, some, particularly those brutalised the most by their culture, refuse to believe the teachings. They often do this quietly, however, and learn to keep their true beliefs a secret. (text-style:"underline")[''Sexual equipment''] Vulpis typically have a knotted canid member ranging from 6 to 7 inches in length. All Vulpis also boast an impressive array of medical nanites. These are typically meant to assist in combat. However, less dignified members of the species have found that these allow them to recover from excessive stretching, roughness, and other dangerous love-making practices that can occur out in the galaxy. //It should be noted that you are not an exemplar of your species and feel a little bit emasculated while reading the average physiology statistics for your brethren.// --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>(link-goto:"Return","Codex")</td></tr> </table>}

{<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td style="font-size:300%">Ovar</td></tr> </table> } (text-style:"underline")[''Description''] Ovar are diminutive feathered raptors who tend to stand somewhere between 3 and 4 feet tall. They have a pair of powerful wings which allow them to fly in their homeworld's denser atmosphere. However, they cannot achieve flight on other worlds. They make some of the best low-grav engineers due to the mobility their wings provide. (text-style:"underline")[''Culture''] Ovar society is built around a combination of scientific research, a species-wide desire to explore, and an incredible fascination with the process of egg-laying. Many Ovar make their money by volunteering as egg surrogates for rare species, finding that with minor genetic alterations, they can lay eggs almost as big as they are. Unfortunately, this can also spell the downfall of less cautious individuals. Should an Ovar lay too many eggs, a primal switch can flip in their brains, causing them to develop a condition known as "Layer's Lament", where they become hyper-fixated on falling pregnant and laying more eggs. Ovar communicate non-verbally, using feather movements and gestures to convey information. For this reason, they wear specialised translator units that can reinterpret their language into audio. Black markets will regularly pluck the feathers of their captives, limiting or completely removing their ability to speak. The most degraded Ovar sluts may only possess the feathers required for phrases like "Thank you!" and "More, please!". (text-style:"underline")[''Sexual equipment''] All Ovar have a single slit between their legs. For males, this hides a penis 4-5 inches long and a pair of internal testes. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>(link-goto:"Return","Codex")</td></tr> </table>}

{<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td style="font-size:300%">Demons</td></tr> </table> } (text-style:"underline")[''Description''] // (text-style:"underline")[''Culture''] // (text-style:"underline")[''Sexual equipment''] // --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr><td>(link-goto:"Return","Codex")</td></tr> </table>}

Against your better judgement, you tap the "Remove creature" button again, but it only enrages the DreadKnot. He pulls from the subject with a truly obscene pop and turns his attention towards the one-way glass. You watch him with curiosity and a slight amount of fear⁠—it's a good thing he's trapped in there. You can only imagine what he'd do if- In an instant, he throws a punch towards the glass. The entire window shatters, and you can no longer see the goliath on the other side. A second later, a second punch strikes the glass⁠—A section shatters. A third is all it takes to utterly decimate the protective window, and soon the megalithic Lunisian is climbing into the test control room. "I warned you, fuckmeat." he snarls, gripping your throat and lifting you from the floor with ease. His strength is so great that you immediately begin to suffocate. (if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInMouth is "DreadKnot")[As the corners of your vision begin to darken, he suddenly releases you. You fall to your knees, coughing and spluttering, feeling relieved as air reaches your lungs. This is only a moment, however. When you look up at the massive Lunisian, you're horrified when the tip of his cock prods your snout. A hand grips your head, preventing you from pulling away, even before you think to do so. You plead with him for a few moments, bouncing from promise to threat to excuse, but to no avail. He's unswayed, staring down at you with a combination of anger and burning, all-consuming lust. He's dribbling pre across your face, and soon his tip is pressing against your lips. He's so productive that your cheeks quickly bulge with his pre-cum, your taste buds overwhelmed by his salty, masculine flavour. He makes a point of slowly, painfully grinding past your lips. You beg, whimper, and eventually scream as inch after inch reaches the back of your throat, then begin to slowly squash down your neck. By the time his knot meets your teeth, you can feel the tip of his cock leaking directly into your stomach. Your jaw feels like it's on the verge of breaking, as does everything else between your lips and belly. Just as you're getting used to his size, he withdraws from your throat with a wet, sloppy squelch. You're only able to inhale a tiny amount of musk-saturated air before he slams back into your face. Within moments he's built into a monstrous rhythm, gripping your head like a fleshlight and pounding away at it. Tears run down your face but are completely imperceptible among the sexual fluids that constantly splash across it. He's rougher and rougher, beyond anything you've experienced before. You can tell that he's doing this for sexual pleasure. He simply wants to abuse you, to teach you a lesson for interrupting his earlier fun. Finally, in a horrifying act of brutality, he smashes his knot against your face. Over and over again, he tries and fails to squash his throbbing anchor behind your teeth, until suddenly, violently, he manages it. With one last brutal thrust, he pries your mouth wider than it was ever intended to open and squashes the last of his cock behind your teeth. CRACK! Pain blisters across your lower face, and you can immediately tell that his knot just dislocated your jaw. You plead and beg around his knot, whimpering and crying as the pain muddies your already hypoxic thoughts. He ignores you. In fact, at the realisation of what he's just done, and the pain you're experiencing, he immediately climaxes. You cry out once more in confused agony⁠—the force of his cum hitting your stomach is physically painful. It's like a high-pressure hose, one which threatens to cause you further injury. With each blast of spunk into your belly, it distends by a few more inches. By the time he's done, your jumpsuit is torn, and your stomach is reddened and pregnant-looking. You let out a horrified whine as your medical nanites immediately begin repairing the injury⁠ to your jaw—and permanently lock your abuser's knot behind your teeth as a result. . . . Under normal circumstances, you would have been rescued by the Warden and his team. Unfortunately, lady luck is not on your side. With one of their most troublesome inmates now pacified and much more interested in torturing you than escaping, the Warden begrudgingly fudges some arrival logs... ensuring that you remain the DreadKnot's permanent captive. Your black box activates. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Gag and break" , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table>}]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInPussy is "DreadKnot")[You let out a whimper as the much larger man grips your crotch, growing irate when he realises you're male. It's clear that he mistook you for a girl, and is disappointed that you don't have a slit for him to abuse. "Eh, whatever. You look enough like a girl, so I'm still gonna fuck you until you're pregnant, bitch." he growls. "B-but I c-can't get pregnant!" you cough out, blue in the face. He knows. In an instant, he throws you over the control panel. You have a view of the test subject you were just abusing, who now watches you with barely-contained fury. They laugh at you as the DreadKnot climbs atop you, about to dish out some extreme karmic realignment. With zero regard for your comfort or health, the goliath slams into your exposed rear, grinding his hyper-cock through your squirming insides until his tip is bulging your stomach. You let out a silent scream, tears rolling down your face. The test subject, who had only moments ago been laughing at this change of fate, now lets out a worried gasp. With each thrust into your ass, your bulging stomach hits one of the buttons on the control panel, causing a new item to deploy in the test chamber. Over the course of a dozen pelvis-shattering thrusts, the test subject is suddenly being brutalised by dozens of silicone cocks. You don't focus on that, though⁠—you physically can't. Instead, all you can do is whimper and cry as your abuser's cock throbs inside you. Your stomach is already bruised from the inside out, and everything from your hole to your belly is quivering in confused agony. The size of the DreadKnot's cock is such that each thrust squeezes a completely pleasureless, messy load from your cock. Soon, his thrusts become sloppy, frenzied, and somehow even more overwhelming than before. With all of his might, and in real danger of breaking your body, he manages to cram his entire, watermelon-sized knot into your bowels. You let out a silent scream as he paints your guts and unloads litres of seed into your insides. As his cum bloats you massive and pregnant-looking, it has an unintended side effect. Your sloshing, seed-filled belly balloons atop the control panel, hitting every single button in the process. A safety shutter slowly descends as you watch every toy, ray, creature and chemical hurtling towards the soon-to-be-ruined test subject. And soon, you think⁠—you hope⁠—that soon you'll be mindless too, so you can escape the agony and humiliation you're being subjected to. . . . Unfortunately, your mind never breaks. You're kept as the DreadKnot's personal "breeding bitch", spending the vast majority of each day having your stomach bloated with cum and being degraded until your willpower completely dissolves. Whenever your mind starts to falter, however, he threatens you with genuine violence and forces you to hold it together while he continues to sexually torture you. At your abuser's request, the Warden eventually supplies equipment that will ensure you remain cognizant and able to suffer from your situation for years to come. By the time your black box activates, you've had his knot anchored inside you for almost three weeks. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Slosh and whine" , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table>}]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInAss is "DreadKnot")[For a few moments, you genuinely think he's about to choke you to death. From the strength of his grip, you can tell it'd be easy for him. Instead, however, he has some more cruel and debauched in store for you. You let out a wordless scream as he reaches for your plush behind, immediately forcing three of his fingers into your hole. "You got a tight ass, toy. Let's fix that," he growls before suddenly releasing your throat. You gasp, and cough as air floods your lungs, only to cry out a moment later. No longer suspending you by your throat, the brutal wolf is suspending you via the three thick fingers stretching your hole. "P-please... s-stop..." you stammer out, wincing as he parts his fingers in your guts, stretching you even more painfully wide. Suddenly, he throws you to the ground, and you land stomach-down with a thud. The impact stuns and bruises you, and by the time you recover, you're horrified to find that the DreadKnot has already climbed on top of you. You feel his precum smearing against your hole, the tip of his cock poised to ruin you. "Time to break, bitch." he snarls in your ear⁠—moments before hammering into you. The force of the first thrust is enough to take you from your hands and knees to lying prone and breathless on the cold testing room floor. You cry out in complete, indescribable agony as the DreadKnot forces his hyper cock into your ass. Your medical nanites work overtime, working desperately to prevent you from being seriously injured. Your abuser, as expected, doesn't care about your well-being. He slams into you, grunting in satisfaction as each body-ruining thrust forces a few more inches of his tree-trunk cock inside you. By the time his knot is slapping your ass, you're begging for mercy. Your stomach is reddened and aching, bruised from the inside by his tip punching through your guts. A puddle of tears and drool forms beneath your face. You genuinely don't know if you can survive this. Your whimpers and cries are completely drowned beneath the sound of the goliath grunting above you⁠—and by the sound of his knot wetly slapping against your ass with enough force to cause bruises. With a howl that practically shakes the room, he finally manages to cram his watermelon-sized knot inside you. There's pain⁠—perhaps the worst you've ever felt⁠—moments before a burning heat floods your insides. In an instant, litre upon litre of cum pumps through your insides, fills your stomach to bursting, and then pours up your throat. You cough, splutter, and try fruitlessly not to drown in his seed as it shoots from your mouth and nose. Although barely, you manage to survive. You weakly cough and splutter, managing to intake enough oxygen to stave off the darkening edges of your vision. You can feel him yanking his knot free, only to immediately begin fucking you again. You feel numb. Did his knot break something...? Or did it just break your brain......? . . . In the weeks that follow, any attempts to retrieve you result in complete failure. When guards draw close, the DreadKnot threatens your life, and eventually, the Warden is forced to abandon you. With an interwoven series of handcuffs and prison restraints, the DreadKnot permanently harnesses you to himself. His knot plugs your ruined hole, the only thing big enough to present any challenge to you anymore. He constantly, casually fucks you, blowing ridiculously-sized loads into your stomach until it overflows from your mouth and nose. You don't remember the last time you were free from the feeling of his burning hot seed flooding your stomach. Soon, your medical nanites burn out. You're unharmed, but your body is permanently ruined from the constant abuse. Too physically broken to continue your journey, your black box activates. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Bulge and break" , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table>}]

(replace: ?TestingScreen)[(if: $Metallicum_ActiveCreature is not "")[> ERROR : Please remove current creature from the test chamber] (else:)[(set: $Metallicum_ActiveCreature to "Tentacle beast")> Introduce creature : TENTACLE BEAST The wall of the test chamber creaks as it lowers, revealing another test chamber has now been attached. Inside, much to your excitement and the test subject's horror, is a writhing mass of coiling, curious tentacles. The subject struggles as the tentacles snake into the room, quickly discovering them and ensnaring them with its terrifying prehensility. {The test subject has only a moment to plead and beg before a tentacle squishes its way past their lips, writhing its way down their gagging throat. (set: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInMouth to "Tentacle")(set: $Metallicum_InmateMouthReserved to true) (if: $Metallicum_InmateHasPussy)[<br><br>The test subject's womanhood is immediately accosted by a number of tentacles. They wiggle inside with little regard for their victim's well-being and are soon dripping an unknown liquid directly into their womb. (set: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInPussy to "Tentacle")(set: $Metallicum_InmatePussyReserved to true)] <br><br>You watch as a tentacle begins prodding at the test subject's hole, harder and harder, until it's practically hammering at their poor back door. Within just a few moments, it's defeated the poor subject's Kegels and slithered inside. You watch, red-faced, able to see the tentacle snaking through their guts and planting its leaking tip directly in their stomach. (set: $Metallicum_Test_ItemInAss to "Tentacle")(set: $Metallicum_InmateAssReserved to true)}{ (display: "Metallicum - Reset screen")}]]

As you travel through the dense forests, you suddenly smell a faint, masculine scent on the wind. Immediately, you begin making your way towards it, only stopping once you realise how quickly and unthinkingly you began to move. There's something suspicious about the scent, which you can now see comes from a dense smoke that seems to be wafting through the forest. Your cock is visibly throbbing beneath your jumpsuit, and you feel unusually horny as well. Do you search for the origin of the lust-inducing scent? --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Stay away" , "Taun Forest Scenery")</td> <td>[[Follow your nose->Gnoll shaman bad end]]</td> </tr> </table>}

You're unable to brush aside your curiosity—or perhaps lust—and begin searching for the source of dense, masculine-smelling smoke. As you push through the underbrush, you find yourself becoming more and more aroused. Soon, the feeling of your jumpsuit rubbing your crotch as you walk is enough to leave you moaning and overwhelmed. You're so overwhelmed, in fact, that when you fall into a clearing, you initially fail to notice the individual at its centre. A short distance from you, there stands an imposing Gnoll, a head or so taller than you and clad in animal skins and bones. They're an occultist—a shaman. His exposed cock, which is particularly large for his species, is already erect and throbbing. Dangling from a long chain in their hand is a thurible burning unknown herbs. You realise immediately that he was "Fishing" for gullible individuals like yourself, no doubt with obscene intentions. There's no escaping now... The dense smoke you pursued is billowing out into the clearing, saturating the air with enough density that inhaling thick lungfuls of it is completely unavoidable. With each breath you take, more of your inhibitions are snuffed out, only burning lust left in their place. When he spots you, the Gnoll happily strides over. You hesitate, but he immediately grabs you and pulls your face against his exposed chest. Now pressed against him, you're fully enshrouded by the dense smoke. You can't help it—you tense up, blowing a load inside the front of your jumpsuit without ever being touched. Your orgasm persists for an unnaturally long time, during which you can do nothing but moan and gasp, your tongue lolling from your mouth as utter pleasure overtakes you. By the time you recover, if only a little, the Gnoll has already stripped away your clothes and laid you back over a tree stump. Their throbbing, girthy cock is poised to push into you at any moment. You plead with them, but the much larger man simply breathes in his own smoke, pushes his lips to your own, and then exhales until your lungs ache. You go rigid, quivering and climaxing, immediately too smoke-addled to resist him as he pushes into you and stretches your insides. You quickly lose track of time. The few moments you return to lucidity, you find the hyena-like man slamming into your hole so deeply that your stomach bulges. The Gnoll's vapours have enhanced your sensitivity, causing each of his thrusts to slam another micro-orgasm from you. You cum, and cum, and cum, until your thoughts are muddled and as fleeting as the smoke in your lungs. The Gnoll finishes by inhaling a particularly huge lungful from his thurible, pumping litres of his seed into your insides before kissing you and exhaling directly into your lungs, causing you to cum so hard that you almost immediately lose consciousness. . . . The shaman keeps you as his personal plaything, and it isn't long before you're utterly addicted to his smoke. The constant exposure and endless orgasms you suffer cause your mind to be irreparably altered. Just a week after your first encounter with the Gnoll and his fumes, just thinking about it is enough to bring you to a messy, mind-shattering orgasm. Ultimately, he keeps you around, taking immense pleasure in your lack of resistance to the herbs he routinely burns. He incorporates you into his rituals and uses you as daily stress relief, and before long, you're completely broken. Your black box activates, leaving this smoke-addicted vessel behind. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Breathe deep" , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table> (display: "Image : Hypno")}

As you're travelling through the town, you spot a neighbouring park. It'd be a shorter route to your destination, but the park seems dimly lit, and nobody else is around. {(if: $Player_WeightTier is 0)[There's no need to cut through the park; you're not in a rush. It might be a good opportunity to spot some new sights, however, and your curiosity makes you consider risking the shortcut.] (else-if: $Player_WeightTier is 1)[It's true that you're feeling a little peckish, but you're sure you could wait a little longer. Safety comes first, after all.] (else-if: $Player_WeightTier is 2)[Your stomach lets out a growl, and you immediately massage your aching belly. How are you hungry again already? Perhaps you should risk the shorter route... ] (else-if: $Player_WeightTier is 3)[Your stomach is growling fiercely, sending ripples through your seemingly endless, pudgy rolls. You should take the shorter route, if only so you can obtain snacks more quickly.]} Do you take the shortcut? --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Take the shortcut->Serial filler bad end]]</td> <td>(link-repeat: "Stay the course")[(goto:$Destination)]</td> </tr> </table>}

Despite the bad feeling stirring in your belly, you decide to take the shortcut through the park. It's quite pleasant, if a little dark. Just as you noticed earlier, there's nobody else around. It's dead quiet, aside from the occasional rustling of nearby leaves. Despite that, you only barely notice that someone is following you. Heavy footsteps, a strange sloshing sound, and, before you can react, a pair of hands gripping you from behind. There's no time to react—something is pushed past your lips and immediately secured in place. You realise quickly that it's the end of a hose. A muzzle encloses your lower face, locked with a heavy padlock. You want to turn, to confront the person that did this to you, but you're immediately met with a far more pressing concern... You flinch as a sudden burst of liquid bulges your cheeks. It tastes like chocolate, albeit far sweeter. A second burst follows it, and you're forced to gulp it down. Litres of the sweet fluid have pumped into your belly before you know what's happening, and soon you're falling forward onto your sloshing middle, already big enough to support your weight. Whatever's being pumped down your throat, there's something aside from the volume to be worried about. From that first gulp, you've felt warm. Fat is appearing across your body at a truly terrifying rate, softening you and weighing you down. Your mobility is stolen from you in just a few seconds. You can no longer turn to confront the one who did this to you—you can only whimper muffled little protests while they touch, grope and squeeze at you, always taking care to stay out of sight. As your fatty neck begins to obscure your vision, it becomes effortless for your attacker to explore you without being seen. Soon, your jiggling form, now mountainous in size, fills the entire park. To any passersby, the suggestion that you are a person would be met with refusal, confusion, and perhaps even excitement. As your fatty rolls spill into the neighbouring streets, your attacker leaves you with a final parting gift—a gigantic, sloppy kiss on your house-sized belly. . . . You're discovered early the next morning, still hooked up to an industrial-grade vat of hyper-calorific liquid. Only dregs remain inside. The rest, hundreds upon hundreds of thousands of calories, now sits across you in endless, fatty rolls. You've gained so much weight that you cannot move at all, managing only to wobble, even with your best efforts. The townsfolk who find you tell you stories of a local "Serial Filler" who preys on unfortunate visitors. You are told that the liquid they use contains metabolism-ruining agents, and even with the best weight-loss technology on La'ard, there's simply nothing that can be done. You become a new, constantly-wobbling landmark, and are visited and fawned over by the fat-loving populace. They take good care of you, although you long to explore the stars again... or at least walk a few metres. Your black box activates, leaving this useless, ridiculously overweight version of you behind. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Wobble and whine" , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table>}

(replace: ?TestingScreen)[(if: $Metallicum_ActiveCreature is not "")[> ERROR : Please remove current creature from the test chamber] (else:)[(set: $Metallicum_ActiveCreature to "Living latex")> Introduce creature : LIVING LATEX The test chamber wall hisses and creaks, slowly descending to reveal a neighbouring chamber. From within, there comes the sound of sloshing and dripping; moments before a creature appears. The creature is humanoid in appearance and of no recognisable species, although it appears to take on vaguely canid qualities. Its body is entirely composed of gooey, constantly dripping and reforming liquid latex. With recognisable curiosity, it approaches the test subject. As it does, it becomes goopier and more fluid-like, seemingly growing too excited to hold itself together. Reduced to a viscous puddle, it sputters a tendril up and over the subject's ankle, quickly oozing atop them. You watch as the creature begins to coat the subject's leg in black, shiny latex. It spreads with terrifying speed; up their leg, down the other, across their torso, down their arms, and, finally, it entombs their head and panicking face. The liquid latex appears to solidify, now looking more like a kinky suit than a living creature. Upon closer inspection, there's a glowing, purple padlock now visible atop the latex between the subject's legs. It glows faintly, often accompanied by a muffled moan—You're immediately able to understand that the latex creature is preventing the subject from attaining orgasm, but is seemingly keeping them torturously close.{ (display: "Metallicum - Reset screen")}]]

(replace: ?TestingMenu)[{ }{<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:2em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link: "Mind-breaker toxin")[(display: "Metallicum - Mind-breaker toxin")]</td> <td>(link: "Orgasm pill")[(display: "Metallicum - Orgasm pill")]</td> <td>(link-repeat: "Back")[(display: "Metallicum - Reset screen")]</td> </tr> </table>  }]

(replace: ?TestingScreen)[> Administer orgasm pill A mechanical arm swings down from the ceiling, a minuscule capsule between its forefinger and thumb. With unnatural precision, it tosses the pill to the back of the subject's throat, where they gag and reflexively swallow it. {(set: $Event to (random: 1, 2)) (set: $ChoiceList to (a:)) (if: $Metallicum_InmateHasPussy is true)[(set: $ChoiceList to it + (a:"Pussy"))] (if: $Metallicum_InmateHasCock is true)[(set: $ChoiceList to it + (a:"Cock"))] (if: $ChoiceList's length is not 0)[(set: $Choice to (either:...$ChoiceList))](else:)[(set: $Choice to "")] }(if: $ChoiceList's length is 0)[The subject squirms and cries out, their body screaming at them, desperately trying to achieve orgasm. Unfortunately, they don't have the right equipment for that. Instead, they're kept on the edge of a perpetual, unreachable orgasm, whimpering and crying as their body convulses with unmanageable, inescapable volumes of lust. Eventually, they recover... if only barely.{ (set: $Metallicum_Test_WillPower to it - 30)}]{ }(else-if: $Choice is "Cock" and $Event is 1)[The subject tenses up, struggling to control their breathing. They fight their restraints, barely holding it together, moments before they begin firing ropes of cum up and over themselves. By the time the torrent dies down, they're practically drooling. They've even managed to spurt some cum into their own agape mouth.{ (set: $Metallicum_Test_CumCount to it + 1) (set: $Metallicum_Test_Lust to 0) (set: $Metallicum_Test_WillPower to it - 5)}]{ }(else-if: $Choice is "Cock" and $Event is 2)[The subject's cock immediately begins to throb, and they let out some of the most obscene moans you've ever heard. Moments later, they're twitching and moaning, spurting ropes of cum with such force that they strike the ceiling and utterly drench the subject.{ (set: $Metallicum_Test_CumCount to it + 1) (set: $Metallicum_Test_Lust to 0) (set: $Metallicum_Test_WillPower to it - 5)}]{ }(else-if: $Choice is "Pussy" and $Event is 1)[A few moments pass, wherein the subject's breathing becomes shallow and rapid. They bite their lip and clench their fists, squirming and whining, their body betraying them. A moment later, liquid is gushing from the subject's slit and down to the floor. Their breathing stabilises as they slump in their restraints.{ (set: $Metallicum_Test_CumCount to it + 1) (set: $Metallicum_Test_Lust to 0) (set: $Metallicum_Test_WillPower to it - 5)}]{ }(else-if: $Choice is "Pussy" and $Event is 2)[The subject immediately tenses up, whimpering and squirming as powerful aphrodisiacs flood their system. Within a moment, they're crying out, shuddering as they squirt across the room. Their chemically-induced orgasm lasts an incredibly long time, and by the end of it, they look about ready to pass out.{ (set: $Metallicum_Test_CumCount to it + 1) (set: $Metallicum_Test_Lust to 0) (set: $Metallicum_Test_WillPower to it - 5)}]]{ (display: "Metallicum - Chems")}

(replace: ?TestingScreen)[> Administer mind-breaker toxin (if: $Metallicum_Test_WillPower >= 70)[The subject squirms and refuses as a mechanical hand descends from the ceiling, clutching a small purple pill. It takes a further half dozen robotic hands to secure and pry open the subject's jaws. A final hand tosses the pill past their lips, and all resistance immediately ceases. They go slack-jawed and drool for a few moments, staring dumbly up at the ceiling, but gradually regain their senses. They're noticeably less hostile than before, simply incapable of resisting as much as they did moments ago.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_Test_WillPower >= 50)[The subject tries to resist as mechanical arms descend from the ceiling, one holding a purple pill between its fingers. They try to argue and plead with you, but this only gives the hands an ideal opportunity to toss the pill into their open mouth. They trail off, slurring their words, babbling, drooling, and then seem to regain their senses. They're considerably more docile than just moments before, seemingly having issues even just thinking about the act of resisting.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_Test_WillPower >= 30)[The subject whimpers out a half-hearted refusal as a purple pill is lowered towards their face, but immediately swallows the pill when prompted. They drool and slur their words for a few moments and then go limp. They're now almost completely incapable of resisting, their willpower chemically destroyed.]{ }(else-if: $Metallicum_Test_WillPower >= 10)[When prompted, the test subject immediately, doughy-headedly, opens their mouth and allows a mechanical hand to toss a pill into their mouth. After a few seconds, they begin drooling profusely, gazing listlessly around the room, completely incapable of resistance, even for a second.]{ }(else:)[When a mechanical hand descends from the ceiling holding a mysterious purple pill, the test subject opens their mouth without a moment of hesitation. They're completely and utterly unable to resist. This time the pill doesn't seem to have any effect; their mind and spirit are already broken.]]{ (set: $Metallicum_Test_WillPower to it - 20) (display: "Metallicum - Chems")}

You can't help yourself—you stare at the shark-like Monarch, sinking in her appearance, her curves, her assets, the apparent softness of her exposed skin... It's only when your gaze reaches her face that you realise she's been watching you the entire time. "Like what you see, sweetheart?" she casually asks, standing and allowing you a better look. You feel the burning redness in your cheeks. It was unavoidable, spreading before you even felt embarrassment. "I-I uh..." you blurt out, but you're too focused on her body. "I-it's just that- you um...-you're so..." "Ah, I see." she coos. "Are you jealous, little guy?" You tense up, feeling like you've just been caught. It's true that you had fleeting thoughts of how it must feel to have her body, but you hoped she'd assume you were just being a little pervert... "Well, if you'd like to be more like me..." she begins, leaning down so that her razor-sharp teeth are inches from your ear. "I'd love to show you something that my pheromones can do..." Do you accept the Monarch's offer? --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>[[Accept her offer->Queen Sam - TF ending]]</td> <td>[[Politely decline->Queen Sam - Decline]]</td> </tr> </table>}

Gulping hard, you accept her tempting offer. She smiles at you, flashing you that toothy, razor-sharp grin. She takes your hand in her own and leads you to her bed chamber. It's perhaps the most incredible bedroom you've ever seen, furnished with expansive corals, intricate lighting and rare minerals wherever you turn. The Queen sits on the bedside, motioning at you with a finger to sit in her lap. You do so, almost unthinkingly. You straddle her soft thighs, facing her. She's so much larger than you that her body utterly dominates your own, your face squished comically between her ample breasts. She wraps her arms around you, holding you tight. She's surprisingly strong, and warm as well. You imagine yourself drifting off to sleep in her embrace, and it fills your heart with longing. In such close proximity, her scent floods your nostrils. It's unavoidable, not that you'd ever dream of trying to avoid it—it's incredible, overwhelming, and you soon find yourself drooling between her tits. Beneath your fur, your skin is slowly changing colour. A greyish blue spreads across much of your body. Small tufts of fur begin to painlessly fall away, revealing the new, incredibly soft sharkskin beneath it. Seeing that the changes have begun, she smiles down at you. You think nothing of it, smiling back up at her, doughy-headed, your teeth unusually sharp and pointy. As she squeezes you in her lap, you feel something prodding against your behind. It's immediately obvious what it is. She's leaking; the slightest prod from her member smears copious amounts of pre-cum across your behind. You feel... indebted to her. She's obviously horny, desperate to stuff you, but controlling herself for your sake. You trust her. You want her. You want to satisfy her. You whimper and whine, signalling to her that you want more, and she's all too happy to indulge your unspoken request. Slowly, and being careful not to hurt you, your much larger lover lowers you down. She holds your hips as she grinds into your hole, pushing deep into your insides. Whether it's skill, her pheromones, or some unseen change to your body, you take her cock with strange ease. Your tail wags behind you as you feel her leaking inside you, although you don't notice that it's now a thick, aquatic one. Soon, she's bouncing you in her lap. You're moaning and whining constantly, singularly focused on her; her scent, her body, the way her cock is throbbing and leaking inside you. You're overjoyed to hear her moaning as well, getting closer and closer to release. You feel relief, adoration, and love. She deserves this. She deserves every pleasure you can bring her. When did you become so addicted to her...? It isn't long before she climaxes. You feel her get rougher with you, picking you up and slamming you back down with absolute ease, the pace increasing each second, until, finally- Your mind goes blank. A flash. That's the only way to explain it. For a single second, your mind was truly, utterly empty. It's a few moments before you regain your senses. There's pleasure, the sensation of your lover's seed flooding your bowels, and something else. Pain, it's pain... why...? You look down to find your lover, your Queen, having sunk her teeth into your shoulder. Small rivulets of blood are visible even before she pulls away. It's a superficial wound and one she seems incredibly embarrassed to have gotten carried away and inflicted. As soon as you realise what she's done, your own orgasm hits. The thought of being her fucktoy—her chew toy even—is enough to immediately push you over the edge. You cry out in mind-shattering ecstasy, cumming so hard that you're left breathless and shaking. When you go limp, head falling forward, you're surprised to find a pair of soft, furless breasts where your furry, flat chest used to be. Your body has become shark-like now, and when you manage to see past your new, wobbling tits, you find that your cock and balls are now a leaking, needy-looking slit. Where perhaps you expected to feel terror, unease, or at least even surprise... you instead feel immense happiness towards your new body. You look your lover in the eyes. You both know what you want now, what you need. With barely any effort at all, she picks you up and leans you back onto the bed. She grips your plump, feminine thighs and pushes her cock into your new pussy. You gasp and cry out, begging her to breed you as much as she likes... and she's all too happy to oblige. There's an immediate, messy rhythm. You're so glad she had enough stamina for round two; you don't know how you would've coped without it. Each thrust into your pussy is a brand-new experience. For reasons unknown, however, it doesn't feel unfamiliar... it just feels right. With measured roughness, she bites one of your new breasts, immediately bringing you to orgasm. You squirm and shudder in her jaws, clenching involuntarily around her cock as it batters into your slit. You shiver as you feel her pumping her load straight into your womb. She's knocked you up—you know it. You immediately embrace your motherhood, completely obsessed with the knowledge that your lover, the template for your fantastic new body, has also claimed you as her mate. . . . Your Queen keeps you close, never denying you the indulgences you so desire. She puts pups in you over and over again, and you truthfully lose track of how many times she's done it. You're never happier than when she's holding you close, exploring the body she gave you, or emptying her liquid love into your new womanhood. Sensing your complete lack of enthusiasm for your old quest, and your desire to stay here forever and continue serving your Queen, your black box fires. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link-goto: "Embrace your new body" , "Ship - Respawn")</td> </tr> </table> (set: $Experienced_BadEnd_SharkTF to true)}

Despite the immense temptation, you politely decline the shark's offer. She seems a little disappointed at first, but simply tells you that the offer is an open one. She starts back to her throne, looking back and catching you staring again. "-And I can still tell when you're staring, sweetie," she tells you. You're red-faced, stammering for a few moments. "Th-thank you" is all you manage to whimper out, much to the Monarch's delight. --- {<table style="width:100%; text-align:center;border-spacing:1em;table-layout:fixed;"> <tr> <td>(link: "Talk about something else")[(goto: "Queen Sam - Talk")]</td> </tr> </table>}