To My Office, Ms Taylor

This interactive story contains graphic depictions of sexually explicit material. By continuing, you acknowledge that: -**You are 18 years old or older.** -You are considered a legal adult in your place of residence. -It is legal to view pornographic material in your place of residence. -You are okay with consuming graphic depictions of sexually explicit material. **DO NOT CONTINUE |secret2>[(link:"IF")[IF(show:?cloaked)]] YOU ARE UNDER 18** If you are 18+ and agree with these conditions, [[click here->Intro]] to begin. (link-reveal: "Content, Warnings, and Disclaimers")[: This is a work of fiction. The actions taken and/or views expressed by the characters in this work do not necessarily represent those of the author. This story contains a wide variety of sexual themes, some of which may be potentially offensive or triggering to some. Themes present in this story include, but are not limited to: -Sex between people of all genders, orientations, genitals, and appearances. -Graphic depictions of rape, and sex with dubious consent. -Heavy physical and sexual violence. -Death, including depictions of murder and suicide. -Sex involving non-human entities of assorted varieties. -Mental and physical transformations. -Abusive and degrading language, including slurs. -Descriptions of spiders. -Poorly machine translated non-English languages.] This is a sequel to my previous work "Happy Birthday, Alex". While it is recommended to play that game first to understand some references and get more information on shared characters, this game can be played and understood entirely without it. (link-repeat: "You can find 'Happy Birthday, Alex' here.")[(open-url: "https://tfgames.site/index.php?module=viewgame&id=2428")] (Opens a web-page in a new browser tab.) |cloaked)[ [[Cheat Menu->CheatWarning]] ]

##"To My Office, Ms. Taylor" {(set:$start to true)(set:$trueChronos to $SandraTimeStop and $AndrewsTimeStop and $TakeAwayTimeStop and $NatashaTimeStop and $PawnShopTimeStop)} (if:$keycard is true)[(text-colour:cyan)[Your keycard hangs like a yoke of iron around your neck.] |cloaked>[ [[You know what you must do.->TrueEnd]] ] ](set:$isBit to false)Well, there it is. You've been expecting the email from your boss all weekend, and it has finally arrived. When you arrived at the office this morning, you had half hoped that the blunders from the last Friday were simply a bad dream. Unfortunately, the apologetic looks you got from your colleagues -or at least, from those that didn't avoid your gaze entirely- confirmed to you that the unfortunate events had in fact taken place as you remembered. It was such a simple thing really. A missed email here, a wrong phone call there, and suddenly you'd just lost (text-colour:orange)[(text-style:"underline")[Aion]] Corporation one of their best clients. It hadn't even been entirely your fault. A mistake in the email servers and corruption of some key company files were the catalysts to your mistake. But the reality was the same regardless. You fucked up, and now you were going to lose your job.(unless:$isBimbo is true)[(if:$isSpider is true)[ |secret>[(link:"You see something glittering purple in the corner of your desk...")[(text-colour:cyan)[Ouch! You withdraw your finger quickly as you feel something stab into it. The glittering purple shape scurries away, no doubt some spider or bug that you just aggravated. You rub your sore finger gingerly. It isn't bleeding, but you remind yourself to disinfect it later.] (set:$isBit to true)]] ] ] (unless:visits is >1)[|translate>[*(cycling-link: "Damn it...", "Why me?", "Fucking hell...")*] *(Green text can be clicked to change the displayed text. This is most often used for measurement conversions and language translations. Orange text is for important information. Seeing it may mean something has changed somewhere... |secret>[(link:"Pink text")[Pink text(show:?secret1)]] can be clicked to unlock secret options, such as side stories or hidden paths. |secret1)[Not this one though!])*](if:$ED01 and $ED03 is true and $Database is false)[ |secret>[ [[DATABASE VULNERABILITY DETECTED->SecretDatabaseFirst]] ]](if:$trueChronos is true and $isBimbo is false)[ (b4r:"solid")+(corner-radius:8)[|cloaked>[(link-reveal:"The power of Chronos calls to you, but...")[(change:?passage,(text-style:"blur"))(dialog:"(text-colour:orange)[**THE COGS OF TIME GRIND TO A HALT**]", "You alone(?) move freely in this timeless realm")(t8n-arrive:"blur")(go-to: "TrueChronos") ]] ] ](if:$isBimbo is false and $isPerfection is false and $ED01 is true and $ED02 is true and $ED03 is true and $ED04 is true and $ED05 is true and $ED06 is true and $ED07 is true and $ED08 is true and $ED09 is true and $ED10 is true and $ED11 is true and $ED12 is true and $ED13 is true and $ED14 is true and $ED15 is true and $ED16 is true and $ED17 is true and $ED18 is true and $ED19 is true)[ (text-colour:cyan)[For some reason, the words "Peitharchia Implant" drift through your mind. How strange...]] (unless:$isBimbo is true)[[[Time to go.->Intro2]]](else:)[[[Better get going.->BimboRoute]]](if: $cheat is true)[ |cloaked>[ [[Cheat Menu->Cheat]] ]](if: $Database is true)[ [[Access Aion Database->SecretDatabase]] (link:"Reset XENOS status")[(set: $isChronos to false)(set: $isBimbo to false)(set: $isMandate to false)(set: $isPoison to false)(set: $isSpider to false)(set: $isBit to false)(go-to:"Intro") ]](if:visits is >1 or $cheat is true)[ [[Ending List->IGEndings]] ]{=

(colour: red)[Red] (colour: #696969)[Gray] (text-style: "shadow")[flares] {(live: 0.5s)[(either: "Bang!", "Kaboom!", "Whammo!", "Pow!")]} |translate>[(cycling-link: "x", "y")] |cloaked)[ insert link here ] |secret>[(link:"x")[x(show:?cloaked)]] (set:_timelord to (colour: #03fce3)) _timelord[this is how timelords speak lol]

You've spent thirteen years working for this company, and you refuse to let yourself be cast aside so easily. You may not be able to keep your job, but you will make damned sure you get some sort of recompense. You take a deep breath and steel yourself as you hear the door open. It's time. "So, have you decided to accept my offer, Ms Taylor?" Your boss makes his way around your desk as he asks his question, eventually sitting back into his chair. You look him in the eye fearlessly before you reply. "I have not," you say with all your confidence, "I'm afraid I will have to decline this offer, Mr Andrews." Mr Andrews looks mildly surprised, but you can't be sure whether he is actually caught off guard by your announcement, or if he is acting. This all a game of sorts after all, and what is a game without a back-and-forth of perceived control? "Well, that certainly is a surprise," he says, "might I ask what about my offer displeases you?" Your confidence is holding strong, so you continue unfalteringly. "I believe this to be an unjust dismissal, and I will not accept it," you state. "This isn't a technical dismissal, Ms Taylor," Mr Andrews replies, though you were ready for his counter. "No, not technically. But I decided to stop wasting both of our times by calling this what it really is." "Indeed..." He leans forward a little and gives you a stern look. "Enough flowery words then. You are correct. If you do not accept this redundancy, I will simply fire you." Mr Andrews is starting to treat you more seriously now, but you are unfazed. The worst is likely yet to come. "I have no doubt, Mr Andrews," you say, nodding, "but if that happens I will be forced to sue. I can prove this situation was not due to my mistake alone." Your boss looks concerned for a moment, looking away from you. He leans back into his chair in apparent unease, but you know better. This is likely still a ruse. You can't let yourself feel victorious yet. "Surely you wouldn't want to cause such a fuss?" His question is rhetorical. You both know what your answer will be. Regardless, you answer him. "Of course not," you say, voice even but firm, "but I will do what I need to do. I hope it does not come to that." Mr Andrews sighs and reclines into his chair, genuinely surprising you. You do your best to keep your poker face, but your eyebrow twitches despite your efforts. "You would. You would absolutely take us to task over this, wouldn't you?" You stay silent. Mr Andrews sits forwards again, this time with an exhausted look on his face. "You've always been intelligent, Ms Taylor," he says, nodding thoughtfully, "very good at your job too. I was so disappointed when all of this fell on you." You are surprised to hear your boss praise you in this situation, but you remain stone faced. "When I learned I was going to have to fire you, I was reluctant. I told them. I said 'Taylor is a resourceful one. Smart. A worthy asset and a dangerous foe.' Alas, they decided that you had to go. Someone needed to take the fall for all of this." Your heart is racing now, and your breath is uneasy. Your brow furrows in worry. This is a strange admission to say the least. "I told them," Mr Andrews says, standing up from his chair and turning to face the wall behind him, "I told them making you the scapegoat for the 'loss' of our business partner was going to be more trouble than it was worth. You're too sharp-witted. Too persistent." "Why are you telling me all this?" You can't stop yourself from blurting your question out, heart in your throat. This whole situation has gotten too strange, and you are starting to worry. This certainly isn't how you expected this conversation to go. Mr Andrews chuckles and turns to face you again with a smirk. "You're a very intelligent woman, Ms Taylor. Why don't you figure it out?" Even before the words have completely left his lips, you have leapt to your feet and are racing for the door. You have to get out of here. You reach the door even as your chair is still falling. You throw open the door violently, but are stopped dead by the two towering men in black uniforms barring your path.(if:$isChronos is true)[ (b4r:"solid")+(corner-radius:8)[|cloaked>[(link-reveal:"The power of Chronos calls to you...")[(change:?passage,(text-style:"blur"))(dialog:"(text-colour:orange)[**THE COGS OF TIME GRIND TO A HALT**]", "You alone move freely in this timeless realm")(t8n-arrive:"blur")(go-to: "Escape")] ] ] ] The two men grasp you by the arms harshly and force you back into the office. You shout and yell, kicking as they lift you into the air and slam the door behind them. "Let me go!" You jab your heel as hard as you can into the leg of one of your assailants, but to little effect. He simply grunts and rams his elbow into your side, knocking the air from your lungs violently. "Let... me..." You can barely breathe, and stop trying to speak. "I'm sorry it has come to this, Ms Taylor." The brutes grasping you rotate you between them so you are facing Mr Andrews once more, hanging limply between them. You can only just keep your head upright enough to stare at the man through tear-filled eyes. Mr Andrews holds up a syringe filled with green liquid in front of him and examines it. "I do so hate to lose your service, but I simply can't have you interfering with Aion Corp plans." You weakly attempt to escape your captors, shaking yourself as best you can, but it isn't enough. Before you realise it, Mr Andrews is standing in front of you and the syringe is in your neck. "If it's any consolation," you hear him say as your vision starts to fade, (text-style:"blur")["your death will be swift and painless."] After a few moments, your eyes finally fall closed, and everything seems to fall silent. You can barely hear the final words Mr Andrews speaks before you pass out. (text-style:"blur")["Rough up her body and toss it in a landfill. Make it look like a random attack. But first, let's have some fun with her... (if:$isChronos is true)[(text-colour:cyan)[Hey, that watch looks pretty expensive, give it here.]]"] Then, the dark takes you. (if:$isPoison is true)[(b4r:"solid")+(corner-radius:8)[|cloaked>[(link-reveal:"But perhaps this is not the end...")[(change:?passage,(text-style:"blur"))(dialog:"(text-colour:orange)[**THOSE GRACED BY THE MARK OF ASCLEPIUS SHALL NOT SUCCUMB TO THE VENOMS OF MEN**]", "Awaken")(t8n-arrive:"blur")(go-to: "Landfill") ]] ] ](else:)[=***ENDING: Corporate Snakes*** (link:"Restart")[(set:$ED03 to true)(goto:"Intro")]

Less than an hour later, you're sitting on a park bench with a cardboard box full of office supplies at your side. "Well, Taylor," you sigh to yourself, "guess you gotta find a new job now, huh?" You start ruminating on your options from here. You consider calling a friend to chat, but you don't really have any close friends. Especially not any friends you'd feel comfortable burdening with your personal worries. You haven't talked to your family in a long time either, nor have you a partner to discuss all this with. Now that you really think about it, you're quite a lonely person. You got your job at Aion straight out of university thanks to a lucky internship. Because of that, you never really spent any time building up personal relationships in your adult life. You have been so focused on climbing the corporate ladder. And look where that got you. Thirteen years of your life were spent working at Aion, and now they've all gone to waste. You dedicated everything you had to that company and now that you don't have a job there, you have nothing else. Tears start to well up in your eyes, but you wipe them away and swallow the lump in your throat. You don't particularly feel like breaking down in a public space, so you close your eyes and try to relax. The morning breeze has a calming effect on you, and you take a few moments to just let yourself absorb the feeling of nature. The faint rays of sunlight that shine through the leaves above you make your skin glow pleasantly where they hit. Birds chirp, insects drone, and leaves rustle. Despite losing your job this morning, you feel at ease. At least until something flies into your face. "What the fuck?" You grab whatever just assaulted you and throw it off. It crumples in your hand and seems to be picked up by the wind as you push it away. Angrily, you sit up straight and look around for your assailant. You spot something floating away on the breeze and landing at the base of the tree behind you. Curious, you stand up and walk over to the tree to examine what it is. As you get closer, you can see that it's a piece of paper of some kind, and the paper is... [[plain white.->TakeAwayApply]] (if:$isMandate is true)[(b4r:"solid")+(corner-radius:8)[|cloaked>[[[deep crimson.->MandateChoice]]] ] ]

You open your eyes slowly but you can't see anything. You can barely breathe. Something is crushing you from above, pushing you painfully into something sharp below. A rancid stench fills your nose, taking the place of oxygen in your lungs. You flail and push as hard as you can in an attempt to free yourself. With a strained roar you throw whatever was on top of you away, gulping in lungfuls of horrid air. Moonlight illuminates the world around you, and you twist your sore body around to take stock of your surroundings. It's tough to see without your glasses in the dim light, but with some squinting and assumptions you are able to get a general idea of where you are. You're at the top of some kind of hill, surrounded by many other hills of varying sizes. They are all irregular in shape, and you realise it is because they are piles of garbage. You must be in some sort of landfill, or trash heap. In disgust you try to get to your feet, but hiss and recoil when you cut your hand on some jagged metal. Taking a moment to breathe, you notice several disgusting tastes in your mouth. You spit and hack to try and clean the taste, but all you manage to do is send globs of brownish-white spit everywhere. Once your mouth feels as clean as it can possibly be, you examine the rest of your body as well as you can. You are completely naked and covered in injuries. Your torso and arms are covered in cuts and bruises, large purple-red welts framing raw, red gashes. Your breasts are especially badly injured, with what appears to be bite marks alongside the bruises and cuts. Your back aches, and you can only imagine it is just as damaged. Blood is dripping from some of the more fresh lacerations, and you can feel wetness across your face and through your matted hair. Examining further down your injured body, you note that your legs and feet are sporting similar injuries to the rest of your body. Your ankle on your left leg is especially purple, and throbs painfully every so often. You feel more wetness around your pubic region, and tentatively touch your sore crotch. Your stomach sinks when you feel something wet and sticky, but bringing your fingers to your face to examine calms you somewhat. There are traces of red on your fingers, but thankfully it doesn't appear that your vulva is injured like the rest of you. At least, it isn't bleeding. The fact that your fingers are covered in a white, slimy substance makes you sick in an entirely different way though. Revulsion runs through you as you realise what's going on. Alongside all the blood and grime covering your body, is semen. You start piecing together what must have happened, and you gradually grow more ill. You were knocked out by whatever Andrews injected you with, then you were raped and beaten, then thrown into this landfill to die. Unable to contain your disgust any longer, you vomit. Shame, fear, and anger swirl in your gut and burn your throat as you repeatedly retch up the contents of your stomach onto your battered, defiled body. Tears stream down your face, and you cry loudly into the silent night. "Why me?!" You shout your question at the moon, but receive no response. Not wanting to stay here any more, you attempt to push yourself to your feet. However the moment you put any weight on your left ankle, you collapse in a fresh wave of fiery pain. With a terrified shriek, you tumble down the hill of refuse you were atop. Pain blossoms through you anew as you are lacerated and battered by garbage. The air is forcefully knocked from your lungs as you slam into the hard dirt ground below, and you scream in pain once more. You curl your battered, bleeding body into a ball, vainly attempting to protect yourself from further harm. You wail loudly, staining the ground with your tears, sweat, and blood. (if:$isBit is true and visits is >1)[Bile once again wells up in your throat, and you vomit all over yourself and the ground. The bile is black and green, with the consitency of oil. "What's happening to me? Haven't I been through enough?" Your broken body starts to itch furiously, and you start to scratch yourself raw. "It hurts it hurts it hurts!" Your nails tear chunks from your skin, bile and blood stained flesh sloughing off under the assault from your fingers. You scream in a combination of pain and terror as you see what is happening to your body, and you start to flail in the dirt. Exposed bone peeks through destroyed flesh; blood dribbles from giant gashes. Your vision starts to fade as blood starts to flood your eyes. A continuous stream of bile flows from your mouth, and you scream through the deluge. [["SOMEONE SAVE ME!"->DarianSpider]] ](else:)[= "No more," you sob, "I want to go home." For all the years you've spent on this Earth, you've never been so broken. Abused, eviscerated, beaten, and discarded. Your spirit is just as shattered as your body, and as the tears start to cease, you feel your will to live go with them. "They should have just killed me proper," you whisper with a sniff. "Actually, that's exactly what they tried." The unexpected voice shocks you, and you painfully roll yourself onto your hands. You push yourself up and scan around for the mysterious speaker. Walking towards you is a tall, dark-skinned figure, a sack draped over their shoulder. They are muscular, defined abs and solid pecs barely covered by an open brown leather vest. They have no hair on their head, but they seem to have a short black beard. Their eyes are glowing amber, and are strangely defined despite your blurred vision. They radiate a terrifying aura, and fear grips your heart. You scramble away as best you can, but the pain shooting from your ankle makes you collapse, barely able to keep yourself from vomiting in pain again. "Relax, I'm not here to hurt you," the stranger says, their deep, masculine voice carrying easily to you through the night air. Still fearful, you curl up into a tighter ball. "What do you want?" The stranger finally reaches you and looks down at your exposed body. You cringe and shy away from them, scrunching up your eyes and using your arms to cover yourself. You jump slightly as something soft and warm falls over you. You crack open your eyes to see what is on top of you. The sack that the stranger was carrying was in fact a blanket; one they have just draped over you softly. "My name is Darian," the stranger says, kneeling down to get closer to you, "and [[I am here to help you->DarianChoice]], Taylor."

You take the red seed from Darian's palm without further hesitation, swallowing it in a single gulp. As soon as the seed passes through your throat, an intense heat starts welling up inside your gut. The heat spreads rapidly throughout your whole body, and soon you feel as though your whole body is on fire. "What the fuck is this!?" You leap forward into deeper water in an attempt to cool yourself, but to no avail. The water around you bubbles, boiling at your touch. You thrash about in the water, scooping up handfuls of mud from the riverbed and slathering it on your searing flesh. Even that does nothing, the mud simply sliding away in the water. "What are you playing at?" You leap out of the water towards Darian with a shout, arms outstretched ready to grab the man. He deftly jumps to his feet and hops backwards, avoiding your grab. "Mind explaining to me what the hell is going on?" You scowl as you plod towards him. "I thought you said that this would help me," you growl, waving away the steam floating up from your body and into your eyes. "That wasn't what I said at all," Darian says plainly, shrugging, "but it seems to have done so regardless, don't you think?" You scoff as he gestures to you with an open hand. "I don't think boiling me alive from the inside is doing much in the way of help," you proclaim, taking another step forward, "so you better do someth-" Taking a step forward...? You're on your feet. Moments ago your ankle hurt even when idle, but now you are on your feet. Come to think of it, aside from the -now dwindling- burning, you don't feel any pain at all. You pause and look down at your naked body. The water on you has all but evaporated now, only a thin sheen of sweat still clinging to your skin. Your skin seems to have darkened somewhat, regaining its former colour and then some. It is unblemished too; not a single scratch or bruise is visible anywhere on you. You look healthy. More healthy than you've ever felt. You extend your arms and flex them. They feel and look more muscular, as does your stomach. You look... toned. Muscles clearly visible, but not so heavily defined that you would describe yourself as muscular. Your thighs and calves too are toned, and you feel as though you could run a marathon without your legs beginning to ache. "I- I feel so... alive," you mutter, shocked at your body's transformation. You smile broadly and look to Darian. "Thank you," you say, genuinely thankful, "thank you." "I wouldn't thank me just yet," he chuckles, smirking and gesturing to you again, "you aren't finished changing yet." Confused, you look back down to your body. Your eyes go wide as you see your hands. You pull them up to get a better look at them. Starting at your fingertips, a red stone-like texture is spreading slowly across your hand and up your arms. You are worried at first, but your worry soon subsides and is replaced with awe. It's not stone. They're scales. Your hands are covered in blood red scales, running from your fingers to your elbow. They look almost like gauntlets, but when you tap your fingertips together you can feel the sensations just like you could before. Better even. Your scales are more sensitive to minute changes than your skin ever was. To cap off the transformation to your hands, long black talons extend from where your fingernails used to be. They glint in the moonlight, beautiful and deadly. Your feet begin to change the same way your arms did, scales running up from your toes to your knees. Talons grow from your toes, digging into the dirt as you flex them. Further up your body, scales begin to grow around your pelvis. They slide into place around your hips, covering up your naked groin and bare behind from the cool night air. They look almost like scaled panties, or a pair of avant garde hot pants. Scales start to grow over your breasts as well, a scaly bra forming around you to match your new pants. You twist around and examine your back as best you can, noting that the scales don't actually travel much farther than just under your arms. It looks like you are wearing some kind of stick-on bra cups fashioned from some exotic lizard. A flash of red in your periphery grabs your attention and you turn to try and spot it. You turn your head from side to side, trying to catch the elusive red flittering shape, but to no avail. With an exasperated laugh, you realise that the colour was your hair, and you grab some from behind you and pull it around to examine. Your hair has grown much longer, cascading from your head and down to your lower back. It is wild and messy, and has turned a blazing red-orange. As you toss your hair back over your shoulder and finish brushing it out of the way with your fingers, you feel a nub on your temple. Both of them in fact. You can't quite see them, but something is growing from either side of your head. Your fingers track the shape as it grows, sliding outwards and back. They're horns. Relatively small, curved horns that closely adhere to your head, ending in a sharp point. Your tailbone begins to itch, and no sooner have you started looking over your shoulder do you see a long, red lizard tail burst forth. It hangs down to just above the ground, the tip swishing somewhat erratically. It is scaled like the rest of you, blood red in hue. The tip ends in a point, and there are a series of small black nubs running along the top of it. You focus for a moment and find that you can move the tail freely, laughing as you make it twist and turn in all sorts of directions. It's about as thick as your arm, and is effectively prehensile. An uncomfortable aching sensation starts to spread across your shoulders, making you hunch a little. The skin around your shoulder blades starts to heat up, and then two large wings burst forth from your back. You don't even have time to admire them before your face starts to burn again, and you rush back over to the river so you can watch your reflection. Your eyes grow larger and start to change. Your pupils become vertical slits, and your irises start to glow orange. You can see your horns more clearly now. They are black like your talons. There is a shifting in your jaw and you open your mouth wide. Your teeth have become sharp and pointy, and your tongue seems longer and more nimble, tapering off into a more pronounced point. You realise that even without your glasses, you can see exceptionally clearly. Your eyesight is better than it has ever been, able to spot even the smallest details as you peer into the water. Turning your attention to your wings, you find that you can move them as easily as your other appendages. You fan them out as wide as they can to examine them in the reflection. They are dragon wings. There's no better description. They look like something straight out of a fantasy book you would have read as a child. They are the same red colour as the rest of your scales, with black leathery material stretching between the fingers. You stand up with a joyous laugh, stretching your wings wide. You momentarily brace yourself, then jump as high as you can. Your standing jump height would put professional athletes to shame, but the added thrust of your flapping wings propels you high into the air. Soon you are soaring freely in the night sky, basking in the rushing air that pelts your body. You dip and soar, letting your body move as it wills. You fly up as high as you can and then fold your wings back in. For a scant moment you are suspended in time. The moon looks larger than life, and the stars twinkling down at you seem to be encouraging you. You close your eyes and just *feel*. The world around you is simultaneously silent and bustling with life. You can hear every rustle of every leaf. Every animal chattering in its den. The very wind itself seems to talk to you. You snap your eyes back open as you start to drop. Time moves freely again and you smirk, rolling yourself around in the air to face the ground. You angle yourself into a dive as you freefall back towards the earth. When you are as close as you feel you can possibly get, you snap your wings open again and laugh as you are jolted to a halt. Your wings are a little sore from the exertion, but you feel incredible. You let yourself glide back towards the ground slowly, smiling widely at Darian. He smiles back up at you proudly, and you land next to him with a thud. Still wanting to examine your new body, you focus on the scales around your breasts and crotch. You can feel them start to shift slightly, and with a little more effort they slide back into your skin completely. Darian politely looks away with a smirk and you chuckle to yourself as you inadvertently flash the man your naked tits and pussy once again. You don't really feel any shame anymore, and it isn't like he hasn't seen you in a worse state already. You focus on your arms and legs, and find that the scales around them slip away as well, taking your talons back into your skin. With a little more focus, your horns also slip away, vanishing into your skull. Somehow. Despite all your efforts, your tail and your wings don't seem to want to retract into your body. With a shrug you let your focus drop, and all your scales slip back into place snugly around your body. You wonder if with some practice you will be able to hide your wings and tail like you do your scales. Then again, why would you want to? "How do you feel?" You're sure the toothy grin probably answers Darian's question better than words ever could, but you answer him regardless. "I feel fucking incredible," you beam, clenching your fists and tensing up your body some, "I feel more alive than ever! I feel powerful! I feel- I feel- I feel fucking amazing!" You jump up high and do a little twirl in the air, then drop back down heavily. Your feet sink into the dirt a little, and you wonder how much you weigh now. "I can do anything!" "I'm pleased," Darian says, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small piece of paper. He hands the paper to you and you take it curiously. There is an address written on it. It appears to be some few cities away from where you live- or, well, used to live. You doubt you can go back to your house now. "I would very much appreciate if you would come and see me later, Taylor," he says, "I would like your assistance with something, if you would be so inclined." "I'm in your debt, Darian," you say earnestly, gripping the paper tightly, "whatever you need, I'll help you. We can go right now if you'd like." Darian smiles at you. "I appreciate your kindness," he says, taking his knife from his belt again, "but I wouldn't want to impose on you right now." He once again cuts his finger and lets the blood drip onto the ground, all the while chanting something you can't understand. Vines burst out of the ground and form into an archway, through which you can see what appears to be a backyard of some kind. "I'm sure there is something you want to get done with your newfound abilities," he says, and realisation floods over you. You can get revenge. With your strength and speed, you could go and make Andrews pay for what he did to you. With your wings, you could fly straight onto the Aion Corp roof and get inside with ease. You could easily fight off anyone who got in your way. A vicious smile spreads across your face, and your blood starts pumping faster. Heat once more spreads throughout your body, but this time it is a heat you understand. It is the flames of vengeance stirring up your soul, urging you to dole out punishment upon those who wronged you. "Stay safe, Taylor," Darian says with a solemn nod, "find your peace, and then come find me." You nod in response, and he steps through the archway, disappearing. You watch as the vines wither away and sink back into the earth, closing the portal behind him. With a roar, you leap into the air and start flying into the sky. {(if:$isChronos is true)[ [[Time to get revenge.->AndrewsRapeDragon]] ] (else:)[ [[Time to get revenge.->AndrewsKillDragon]] ] }

You take the green seed from Darian and swallow it without hesitation. It has barely made its way down your throat when you can feel something shift inside you. The cuts and bruises all over your body start to itch furiously, but you resist the urge to scratch them. Instead, you watch the most prominent lacerations on your torso intently. The wounds start to scab over rapidly, any residual pain you felt subsiding as they do. One by one, each cut scabs over until every cut you can see has a browish-red scab covering it. But then the scabs start to grow. With some alarm, you watch the scabs spread further across your body. What started as small lines over your injuries are now huge patches of dried blood. No, not blood. Sap. Sap spreads over the entirety of your body, encasing you in a layer of resin. You are worried as it spreads up your torso, over your breasts, and up your neck. As the sap reaches your mouth, you clamp it shut to prevent any from entering, but it doesn't attempt to flow into you. Instead, it covers your remaining skin, leaving your nose, ears, eyes, and mouth all unblocked. Then the sap begins to harden. It fuses with your flesh painlessly, and solidifies. After a few moments, you examine your body and find yourself completely covered in wood. No, it isn't that your body is covered in wood. Your body *is* wood. Hair falls past your face and into the water below you. You follow it down and stare at your reflection. Your face is nearly unrecognisable, only the faintest shape of a face visible in what is otherwise solid wood. Your hair has fallen out entirely, replaced by tiny branches adorned with sprouting green leaves. There is no pain in your body anymore, and you get to your wooden feet with ease. Your movements are stiff, but not from discomfort. You turn to Darian, and he smiles. "I imagine you cannot talk in that state," he remarks, proffering his hand, "come with me. I shall take you some place more suited to you than this river." You silently accept his extended hand, allowing him to help you out of the water. Once you are on the land proper, he releases your hand and withdraws a knife from his belt. He quickly makes a small cut in his finger and stows the knife again, before chanting something and letting blood from his finger drip onto the ground. An archway of vines erupts from the soil, curling around each other madly before coming to a stop. He offers you his hand once more and you take it, letting him lead you through the archway. One moment you are by a riverbank in a quiet forest, the next you are atop a tall hill, blinded by the early morning sun. You release Darian's hand and move forward, stretching your arms out to catch as much of the sunlight on you as possible. This is where you are meant to be. You walk around slowly, basking in the light of the sunrise. "Will this place suit?" Darian asks the question even though he already knows the answer. Regardless, you nod at him thankfully before turning to face the sun. The sunlight blinds you, but there is no pain. Instead, you feel a great sense of relief as your vision goes white. You shuffle your feet about in the grass and dirt beneath them, the cool, damp soil bringing even more relaxation. As the heat of the sunlight before you grows greater, you can feel your body solidifying. You raise your arms towards the sky in reverance of nature's beauty. Although you cannot smile physically anymore, your heart smiles. You are at peace here. This is where you belong. [[Ages pass by as leaves on the wind.->TreeEnd]]

(set:$Database to true)(size:1.5)[Accessing (text-colour:orange)[**Aion Corporation**] Database...] (after: 1s, (cond: visits > 0, 150ms, 0))[= (size:1.5)[Initialising...] (after: time + 1s, (cond: visits > 0, 150ms, 0))[= (size:1.5)[**WARNING!** Authorised access only!] (after: time + 1s, (cond: visits > 0, 150ms, 0))[= (size:1.5)[Accessing (text-colour:orange)[XENOS] Archives...] (after: time + 1s, (cond: visits > 0, 150ms, 0))[= (go-to:"SecretDatabase")

**XENOS File Access Granted** **(text-colour:orange)[XENOS #2476667: The Chronos Device]** Threat Type: Ego Hazard Effective Threat Level: Varied XENOS #2476667, also identified as "The Chronos Device", takes the form of a seemingly innocuous wrist-watch that allows the wearer to halt the flow of time for an indefinite period. Testing has found that the wearer is almost entirely unaware of the device while they are wearing it, only appearing to notice its existence if they are notified of it. Bystanders too rarely notice the watch under regular circumstances. Testers have reported an unawareness of their actions while time is frozen, stating they seemed to teleport from one location to another. Likewise, testers report that they did not activate the device consciously. Instead testers have reported an "urge" or "compulsion" and then found themselves in a new location. It is our belief that the Chronos Device is able to in some way "sense" the emotional state of the wearer. Through this "sense", the device controls the wearer, compelling them to halt time and act out whatever desires they may have. This makes the effective threat level variable depending on the wearer, as those with darker intentions are more prone to cause damage with the device, while those with kinder intentions may be more inclined to help others. Regardless, the device is considered an 'Ego Hazard' as it controls the wearer, and should only be handled under extreme supervision. (text-colour:magenta)[(text-style:"underline")[(checkbox: 2bind $isChronos, "Dispatch XENOS #2476667?")]] (live: 0.5s)[{ (if: ($isChronos is true))[ (text-colour:cyan)[**XENOS #2476667 dispatched.**]] (else:)[ XENOS #2476667 is in storage] }] (if:$cheat is true)[|cloaked>[ [[Back to Cheat Menu->Cheat]] ] ][[Access New File->SecretDatabase]] [[Leave Database->Intro]]

(if:$SandraTimeStop is true)[(text-colour:cyan)[You find yourself in your boss's office. Strange. You don't remember crossing the threshold. Must be nerves. You think you can hear Sandra cry out from through the closed door, but you chalk that up to nerves as well and push it from your mind.] ]"You wanted to see me, Mr Andrews?" You speak as though you are unaware of why you were called in today, but you and your boss both know full well why you are here. "I did, Ms Taylor," he says politely,(if:$SandraTimeStop is true)[(text-colour:cyan)[ though he seems somewhat confused by something,]] "please, take a seat." He gestures to the chair across from his desk and you sit down with a polite nod. Both of you take a moment to assess the other, deciding how much longer to keep the charade going. Mr Andrews meets your gaze, and you can almost see the analyses going through his mind in real time. After what feels like an eternity, he sighs gently and adjusts his tie a little before sitting back in his chair. "Look, you and I both know why you are here, Ms Taylor." You nod forlornly, forcing yourself to keep eye contact. Now is not the time to show weakness. "Despite the circumstances surrounding this-," he pauses momentarily to find the right word, "*situation*, the fact remains that our company has lost a very valuable client because of you." Your jaw clenches, but you remain silent. It wasn't just your fault! There were many factors at play that caused this mess! But it's too late now to say anything, so you decide to keep your dignity. "Now, I managed to pull some strings for you, Ms Taylor," Mr Andrews says, shifting forward in his chair. He takes a stack of papers from his drawer and places it on the desk. You eye the pile with some confusion. "The company is offering you a voluntary redundancy," he says, "we are offering you this chance to settle things amicably. As a show of good will for all your years of service." Right, "good will". It isn't because a flat dismissal would make them look bad. "This offer is... time sensitive, however." You meet Mr Andrews' gaze once more. His tone, demeanour, and word choice are all very specific and very clear to someone like you. You've spent such a long time parsing legal jargon and corporate speak that you have trouble talking regularly with people. What he is actually saying is clear as day. This is only *technically* an offer of voluntary redundancy. You **will** be leaving the company, by one form of dismissal or another. "I will give you a few moments to assess your options, Ms Taylor," Mr Andrews says as he gets up from behind his desk. He makes his way over to the door and walks out, explaining he will be back in five minutes to hear your decision. Once you are alone in the room, you let out a huge sigh. All the breaths you had been holding leave you at once. You think over your options carefully. The first, most simple course of action would be to take the voluntary redundancy and be done with it. Yes, you'd be out of a job, but you could probably live on what you've saved up over the past thirteen years working here for quite a while. Not to mention the payout from the redundancy itself. You may be a little tight if you can't find a new job soon, but you certainly won't be poor off. On the other hand, the fact that you are being offered a voluntary redundancy at all has been a 'tip of the hand' by the company in some ways. If they could easily pin the loss of the client on you, they would have straight up fired you immediately, because it would have been cheaper for them. If they had solid evidence to prove you were solely responsible you wouldn't even be able to file a wrongful dismissal suit, because you'd be guaranteed to lose. But they aren't *technically* firing you yet. That means you could decline the voluntary redundancy and file a wrongful dismissal suit should they fire you. A suit you could well win. You know great lawyers, and you know the law and all the corporate tricks they may try to use against you. You could probably prove it wasn't solely on you that the company lost the client, and that may not be a risk they are willing to take. They may not even fire you at all if you don't take the redundancy, as it may be too much of a liability to do so. Then again, that's a lot of effort for something with an uncertain outcome. It may be easier to cut your losses and just start your search for a new job. [["I'll just take the redundancy."->JoblessPath]] [["I won't roll over and accept defeat so easily!"->Go to court]] (if:$isMandate is true)[ (text-colour:cyan)[Hold on a second... There is a piece of crimson paper sticking out of the pile Andrews placed on the desk. It's quite striking, and you can't help but feel curious about it.] |secret>[(link:"Maybe you could...")[(text-colour:cyan)[You walk over to the desk and pull the red paper from the pile. It's hard to properly make out the words on the page, but after a few seconds your eyes seem to refocus and you can see what is written on the page:] |cloaked>[(link-reveal:"Taylor was always the one in charge.")[(change:?passage,(text-style:"blur"))(dialog:"(text-colour:orange)[**THIS REALITY FALLS INTO THE OBSCURITY OF THE COSMOS**]", "A new reality dawns")(t8n-arrive:"blur")(go-to: "BossSwap") ] ]]]]

(set:$SandraTimeStop to true)The world around you is silent and still. Not that the office is usually very loud -especially on the upper floors- but the lack of any sound is deafening. The hum of the air conditioning is absent. The buzz of the fluorescent lamps is missing. It's absolutely silent. Perfect. You wander over to Sandra and push the frozen blonde out from her desk, tenderly running your thumb over her fat, pouty lips as you do. "God, Sandra," you say, "how much surgery did it take to get a body like this?" There is no reply from the secretary. Obviously. "These tits are obscene," you say, unbuttoning her blouse. You pull open her shirt to reveal her massive bare tits beneath. Even without time frozen you know they'd stay perfectly still due to the sheer amount of silicone inside them. "I knew you were a slut, but wow. No bra? Do you even have...?" A few questing fingers under her skirt answer your question before you ask it, pressing up against a bare, puffy cunt. "Fuck, you're really hot," you gasp, gripping at Sandra's giant synthetic boobs lustfully, "I just wish you weren't so insufferably thick." You laugh to yourself as you drop to your knees. "Thick as in stupid," you clarify to the immobile secretary, "you're physically thick in all the right ways." It takes some finagling, but you manage to pull Sandra's tight skirt up over her fat ass, baring her naked pussy to you. "I bet this looks so fucking wonderful when it's soaking wet," you growl hungrily, leaning forward and licking her flaps sensually. You spend quite a while lapping at the bimbo's folds, lamenting the fact you won't be able to taste her when she cums. Eating pussy while it is dry is not quite as rewarding, but you still love the taste regardless. After a while you decide you've given enough, so you stand up and pull off your skirt and panties. It's your turn to receive. With some effort you push Sandra to the floor gently and roll her onto her back. You straddle her chest, rubbing your own very wet pussy against her soft tits. "Always wanted to try this honestly," you tell Sandra, grabbing one of her breasts harshly and lining it up with your entrance. You slowly let yourself down, pushing Sandra's nipple inside your vagina with a moan. Her nipple doesn't reach very far inside you, but the novel sensation more than makes up for that. You let your whole body weight down onto Sandra's chest and begin grinding against her tit earnestly. "This is weird," you chuckle between moans, "but it's also *really* good." You let yourself go, loudly moaning as you ride the secretary's boob. It is a disappointingly short time later that you feel your orgasm approaching. You debate edging yourself for a little longer, but decide that would take a level of self-control you don't really feel you have at the moment. You pick up the pace of your grinding, readying yourself for your imminent orgasm. You scream loudly when you cum, dropping entirely onto Sandra in a way you're sure would be painful for her were she not frozen in time. When your legs regain feeling, you roll yourself off of Sandra with a contented sigh. "Those knockers are great, Sandra," you say to the silent secretary, "wish I could have gotten hand on them in real time." You give her soaked nipple a playful tweak before hopping to your knees. You replace Sandra's shirt, smirking as her white blouse goes see through around her wet breast. With a grunt, you force Sandra back into her chair haphazardly. With your underwear and skirt pulled back up, you give Sandra a playful kiss on the mouth and turn to your boss's office. Unfortunately, your little distraction has come to an end. With a sigh, you open the door and (link-reveal:"enter your boss's office.")[(dialog:"(text-colour:orange)[**THE COGS OF TIME RESUME THEIR SOLEMN ROTATION**]", "Time flows freely once more") (go-to: "BossOffice") ]

**XENOS File Access Granted** **(text-colour:orange)[XENOS #272537487: The Mark of Asclepius]** Threat Type: Aegis Effective Threat Level: Null XENOS #272537487, also identified as "The Mark of Asclepius", takes the form of a small tattoo depicting a snake winding around a staff. Bearers of the Mark seem to be resistant to all manner of toxins, venoms, and poisons, to varying degrees. No bearer has ever been successfully killed using such methods, however they are still prone to other adverse reactions. These include vomiting, unconsciousness, rashes, abdominal pain, fugue states, temporary loss of motor function, and momentary brain death. The tattoo is inconspicuous, often hard to spot even by those deliberately looking for it, and can appear anywhere on the bearer's skin. It is believed to have a limited cloaking property, though there is no evidence to suggest this is anything more than a mild psychic shielding. Discovery of the Mark of Asclepius has led to poisoning being considered a less effective method of dispatching targets. Since identification of the Mark can be difficult, potential targets must be carefully examined beforehand. Other methods of execution are preferable. There is no current way to transfer the Mark of Asclepius from person to person, and the origination of the Mark is still under investigation. (text-colour:magenta)[(text-style:"underline")[(checkbox: 2bind $isPoison, "Do you have the Mark?")]] (live: 0.5s)[{ (if: ($isPoison is true))[ (text-colour:cyan)[**Asclepius protects you**]] (else:)[ You are unprotected] }] (if:$cheat is true)[|cloaked>[ [[Back to Cheat Menu->Cheat]] ] ][[Access New File->SecretDatabase]] [[Leave Database->Intro]]

You sigh heavily, closing your email program and standing up from your desk. You don't bother grabbing anything except your keycard, knowing full well you'll be back to clear your desk within the hour anyway. Trying to keep a brave face despite the roiling in your gut, you start the walk to the elevator. Despite everyone's best attempts at subtlety, you can feel your co-workers' eyes on you as you wait for the elevator to arrive. You thank whichever gods may be watching that the elevator is empty as you hop in, the closing metal doors finally blocking you from the stabbing stares of your colleagues. "Keep it together, Taylor," you mutter to yourself, gently smacking your cheeks with your palms. You take several deep breaths, steeling yourself for the inevitable. As the elevator climbs agonisingly slowly upwards, you examine yourself in the mirrored wall.(if:$isBit is true and $isPoison is false)[ Despite your best attempts at a brave face, your coffee-toned skin is slightly pallid, making you look lighter than usual. In fact, you look downright pale. Almost all the colour has drained from your face. Your eyes are bloodshot, and there are dark purple bags under them that certainly weren't there this morning. You reach up to touch your face, unsure if what you are seeing is real. You were nervous before, but now you are starting to feel legitimately sick. You feel like you could vomit any second. Blood starts to trickle gently out of your nose, and you spin around dazedly to slam the [[stop elevator->BitEnd]] button in alarm.](else:)[= Despite your best attempts at a brave face, your coffee-toned skin is slightly pallid, making you look lighter than usual. Your hazel eyes are twitchy, your large circular glasses serving only to magnify the fear within them. Your frizzy black hair is usually neatly styled to avoid looking messy, but today it seems a little out of control. You spend a few moments tidying up the curly locks with your fingers and trying to get them under control. It doesn't change much, but it helps you feel a little more calm.(if:$isBit is true and $isPoison is true)[ (b4r:"solid")+(corner-radius:8)[|cloaked>[ [[There is a tingling sensation in your bitten finger, and something inside you urges you to get out of the elevator.->ArachneFall]] ]] ] A few dark patches have appeared on your otherwise pristine white blouse; spots of fearful sweat soaking the fabric.(if:$isChronos is true)[(text-colour:cyan)[ You adjust your watch slightly, wiping some sweat off of your wrist.]] You flatten the front of your black pencil skirt as the elevator 'dings', trying to look as presentable as possible for these final moments. The elevator doors open and you step out into the waiting room. Sandra, your boss's secretary, gives you a sympathetic smile and gestures to the door. "Mr Andrews will see you now, Ms Taylor." Her tone is polite, but you can feel the unspoken apology beneath her words. You nod, thanking her quietly, before making your way to the door.(if:$isChronos is true)[ (b4r:"solid")+(corner-radius:8)[|cloaked>[(link-reveal:"The power of Chronos calls to you...")[(change:?passage,(text-style:"blur"))(dialog:"(text-colour:orange)[**THE COGS OF TIME GRIND TO A HALT**]", "You alone move freely in this timeless realm")(t8n-arrive:"blur")(go-to: "TimeSexSandra") ]] ] ] You gulp a little as you place your hand on the knob(if:$isPoison is true)[(text-colour:cyan)[, eyeing your little snake and rod tattoo for comfort]]. You're about |translate>[(cycling-link: "160cm", "5'3")] tall without your heels, so you aren't exactly tall to begin with, but right now the door to your boss's office seems to tower over you. You wonder if perhaps it will just fall off its hinges and crush you right there. At least then you wouldn't have to head inside and face the music. Knowing that delaying this any longer will only make it worse, you turn the door knob and [[step inside.->BossOffice]]

**XENOS File Access Granted** **(text-colour:orange)[XENOS #number: codename]** Threat Type: Effective Threat Level: XENOS #number, also identified as "codename", details. ###ADD TO CHEAT PAGE AND DATABASE (text-colour:magenta)[(text-style:"underline")[(checkbox: 2bind $, "Dispatch XENOS #number?")]] (live: 0.5s)[{ (if: ($ is true))[ (text-colour:cyan)[**XENOS #number dispatched.**]] (else:)[ XENOS #number is in storage] }] (if:$cheat is true)[|cloaked>[ [[Back to Cheat Menu->Cheat]] ]] [[Access New File->SecretDatabase]] [[Leave Database->Intro]]

The cold morning air bites into your skin, making your bones ache. Your feet are tired and sore. Your lungs scream for more air, and your heart pounds like a drum in your chest. You want to collapse. The dark morning begins to grow darker as your eyes flutter shut. --- You see your sister lying in her bed, face contorted in pain. She coughs violently, sending blood and phlegm everywhere. So much blood from such a small child... "I can keep her stable," the doctor says morosely, wiping Lydia's mouth with a cloth, "but I don't know if there's much more we can do." "How much longer does she have?" Your father has a tear in his eye as he talks, his hand gently stroking the sickly girl's hair. "As long as she doesn't get any worse, I'd say about a month. But that's being generous." Your father spots you in the doorway and turns away, trying to hide his sadness from you. --- Your eyes snap open again. You have to keep moving. She's relying on you. You slap your cheek violently, the bracing pain helping to keep you awake. You continue your gruelling climb up the mountain, doing your best to not slip on the muddy grass at your feet. You've been walking for days now. What's a few more minutes? The world around you starts to get a little brighter, and so do your spirits. You must be nearing the top. With renewed vigor, you push onwards, gradually approaching the summit. The light of the rising sun blinds you as you reach the peak. There isn't a whole lot of it, but it's enough to make you hold your arm up to block some of it out. You shuffle into the shade of the tree and drop to your knees to catch your breath. While taking long, slow breaths, you look at the tree in the center of the mountain top. It isn't exceptionally tall, the bulk of the tree standing maybe |translate>[(cycling-link: "180cm", "6 foot")] tall. There are branches that extend into the air above it, yellow and green leaves rustling lightly in the mild breeze. The tree is rather thin. Comparitively at least. The trees near your house in the woods are almost as thick as you are tall, so seeing a tree that is only about |translate>[(cycling-link: "half a metre", "one and a half feet")] thick is quite the change. The tree has an odd shape to it. It's somewhat curvy, and one could almost imagine a face about three-quarters of the way up. Just being in the presence of the tree soothes you. You close your eyes and allow yourself to feel its motherly presence envelop you. --- "Andy, you're just a child. Leave this to the doctor. He knows what he's doing." Your mother has a worried look on her face as she talks, but you can't help but be frustrated at her dismissal. "But what if it's true? We have to try or she-" "Andy, that's enough!" Your mother cuts you off angrily. "I need to be here to look after your sister! Not chase childish fairy tales!" She walks away from you frustratedly, taking another bowl of clean water into your sister's room. "Then I'll go," you hiss under your breath. --- Your eyes snap open again and you get to your feet. You have a job to do. You pull the bloodstained handkerchief from your pocket and grip it tightly. You make your way over to the tree and place the cloth against the wood. "Afflicted blood upon the sacred wood will grant one a cure to all ailments." You repeat the supposedly ancient ritual again and again under your breath as you rub the bloodsoaked handkerchief against the tree trunk. Nothing. You spend several minutes rubbing the bloodstained cloth against the wood, growing ever more frantic as nothing happens. Tears are welling in your eyes, but you refuse to let them fall as you mash the cloth into the tree. "Come on! Give me the cure, damn it!" You hear nothing but the sound of wind in leaves in response. With a sob you drop to the ground, defeated. You let the now tattered handkerchief drop and it catches on one of the roots at the base of the tree. "Why won't it work?" You sniffle and struggle to hold back tears. "So much time spent searching. So many hours spent walking. So much effort. And for what?" You start to cry in earnest now, all the emotions inside you spilling forth. "I'm such an idiot! I should have listened! It was all just a tale!" You bang your fist on the wood and curse. "Lydia... I'm sorry... I'm a terrible big brother..." --- "Of course I would," you state with pride, "I would fight a million monsters to rescue you if I had to!" Your little sister giggles happily and you grin widely. "You're so cool, Andy," she says, hugging her doll to her chest, "you're the bestest big brother ever!" You're about to respond when Lydia suddenly coughs, spattering your shirt with blood. "Lydia? What's wrong!?" The girl wordlessly collapses forward onto the dirt, and you scream for help. --- "I'm a useless brother, Lydia," you sob, leaning against the tree for support, "I couldn't even help you when you were right in front of me. How am I supposed to help you like this?" You let out an immense scream, channeling all your rage and sadness into the noise. You can hear birds far below take flight in shock, squawking angrily. "I'm sorry," you sniff, letting yourself drop sideways onto the cold, hard dirt beneath the tree. Your head bangs against a root, but you don't care. You feel so defeated that you don't register the pain. Tears dribble from your cheeks and soak the tattered piece of cloth under your face, soaking through it into the wood below. (text-style:"buoy")[(text-colour:lime)[(text-style:"expand")["You did enough, child."]]] You jerk up in surprise at the voice. You scan around for the source of the wispy, ethereal words, but find no one. You are alone on the mountain top. "Is anyone there?" You receive no reply. Frowning, you get to your feet and look around, walking several steps away from the tree to get a good view. Nothing is any different, save the light of the rising sun growing stronger. Shrugging, you sulkily turn back to the tree. Your jaw drops as you take in the silhouette of the tree. It is framed in golden light, glowing rays breaking through gaps in the leaves in a dazzling display. The whole tree seems to be thrumming with energy, literally shining. You marvel in awe as the bright light grows even brighter, eventually having to shield your eyes from the blazing spectacle. Once the light dies down, you open your eyes to examine the tree again. Everything seems to be back to normal; the supernatural light show apparently at an end. Still unsure if what you just saw was real, your gaze is drawn to a single point of glowing light in the centre of the leaves. The small pinprick of golden light swells to the size of your fist, then drops from the branches of the tree without warning. Instinctively you leap forward, arms outstretched to catch the falling light. You successfully intercept it before it hits the ground, and you examine the warm sphere in your hands. It's a fruit. A pomegranate, if you're correct. At least, it looks like the pictures of pomegranates you've seen in books, only it appears to be made of solid gold. It isn't very heavy, so you doubt it is actual gold, but the shine it gives off is marvellous nonetheless. The fruit is warm in your hands, faintly throbbing with untold power. "This is it!" You can't help yourself from shouting joyfully, jumping up and down excitedly. "Thank you thank you thank you!" You thank the tree over and over again, tears of joy rushing over your face to wash away the sadness from moments earlier. You stuff the fruit into your pocket and turn away from the tree, ready to begin your descent back down the mountain and subsequent journey home. "I'm coming, Lydia," you say with pride, "I'm coming to help you!" (text-style:"buoy")[(text-colour:lime)[(text-style:"expand")["Farewell, child."]]] You don't really register the voice carried on the wind as you start climbing back down the grassy mountain, but your heart relaxes subtly. If you had looked back before your head dipped below the edge of the mountain, you'd have sworn you saw a smiling face in the trunk of the tree. ***ENDING: Panacea of the Blessed Boughs***(set:$ED06 to true) [[Restart->Intro]]

**XENOS File Access Granted** **(text-colour:orange)[XENOS #25384342: The Aletheia Mandate]** Threat Type: Apocalyptic Reality Hazard Effective Threat Level: Infinite XENOS #25384342, also identified as "The Aletheia Mandate", is an as yet unexplained phenomenon that causes untold alterations to reality. All attempts at research have been unsuccessful. We know that the Mandate exists, yet have no records of its effects. Any sightings of crimson sheets of paper should be immediately reported, and the paper confiscated. Store the paper in airtight, entirely opaque storage vessels. If the paper cannot be safely contained, destroy it. **DO NOT READ WHAT IS WRITTEN ON THE PAPER** **ANYONE WHO IS THOUGHT TO HAVE READ THE MANDATE MUST BE NEUTRALISED IMMEDIATELY** (text-colour:magenta)[(text-style:"underline")[(checkbox: 2bind $isMandate, "Mandate sighted?")]] (live: 0.5s)[{ (if: ($isMandate is true))[ (text-colour:cyan)[**A Mandate has been sighted! High Alert!**]] (else:)[ No Mandate sightings] }] (if:$cheat is true)[|cloaked>[ [[Back to Cheat Menu->Cheat]] ] ][[Access New File->SecretDatabase]] [[Leave Database->Intro]]

It's an advertisement for a new take-away shop that just opened. They are asking for someone to start working immediately, in the kitchen and sometimes on the counter. "Well, that's serendipitous," you chuckle to yourself. You don't really know if working at a take-away is what you want to do with your life, but given that this offer literally just hit you in the face, you feel as though it would be tempting fate to not at least apply. Besides, you've known nothing but stuffy corporate work since leaving high school. Perhaps a change of pace is just what you need. "What can it hurt to try?" You punch the number into your phone, and no sooner have you put the device to your ear than you hear a frantic voice greet you with a yell. "Hello!? Yes!?" You jump in surprise at the cacophany coming from the phone. The person on the other end is having to shout over some sort of din, no doubt the sounds of a busy kitchen. "Um, hi," you start, quickly re-gathering your composure, "my name is Taylor. I'm calling 'bout an ad I saw for a job-" "You're after the job!? Great! We're swamped right now, but come down at about two this afternoon and I'll meet with you! Ask for Jackie!" Before you can reply, the phone beeps in your ear to tell you that Jackie has disconnected. "Uhh, alrighty then," you say, to no one in particular, "I guess I have a job interview already?" You chuckle and walk back over to your box of belongings, still not entirely sure what just happened. You decide to drive home and drop your things off, and then find a way to kill a few hours before you go meet with Jackie. Hopefully by the end of the day, you'll have a new job! [[Time passes->TakeAwayEnd]]

The piece of paper is a deep crimson colour, and is blank on one side. You flip the paper over in your hands and find that something is written on the other side in black ink. Only, you can't tell what it says. It's not that it's a language you don't understand. You know instinctively that these are English words, but they seem... obfuscated. No matter how many times you blink or rub your eyes, the words seem to be just too illegible to understand. "What the hell?" You angrily rub your eyes for the umpteenth time, trying your best to read this enigmatic page. This time, finally, you feel like you're making progress. The words seem to be getting a little easier to understand. You pour all your attention into reading the words on the crimson page, brow furrowing with exertion. And then, you do. You can finally read the words written on the page, and they say: |cloaked>[(link-reveal:"Aion was always a boys' club.")[(change:?passage,(text-style:"blur"))(dialog:"(text-colour:orange)[**THIS REALITY FALLS INTO THE OBSCURITY OF THE COSMOS**]", "A new reality dawns")(t8n-arrive:"blur")(go-to: "FTMPath") ]]

"You wanted to see me, Ms Taylor?" Andrews speaks as though he is unaware of why he was called in today, but you and he both know full well why he is here. "I did, Mr Andrews," you say politely, "please, take a seat." You gesture to the chair across from your desk and he sits down with a nervous nod. Both of you take a moment to assess the other, deciding how much longer to keep the charade going. Andrews meets your gaze, and you can almost see the worried thoughts going through his mind in real time. After letting him stew for a bit, you sigh gently and adjust the open collar of your blouse a little to expose some more of your cleavage. You smile inwardly as he pointedly looks away from you. That's another point for you in this battle of wills. "Look, you and I both know why you are here, Mr Andrews." He nods forlornly, forcing himself to renew eye contact. He holds it for an admirable twelve seconds before looking away once more. "Despite the circumstances surrounding this-" you pauses momentarily, making a show of 'searching' for the right words, "*situation*, the fact remains that our company has lost a very valuable client because of you." Andrews' jaw clenches, but he remains silent. You know exactly what he is thinking. He's angry because it wasn't entirely his fault. Everyone who was involved in the situation knows that there were many factors in place that led to the loss of the client. Andrews is just unlucky, because it's easy to place the blame on the average grunt. "Now, I managed to pull some strings for you, Mr Andrews," you say, shifting forward in your chair. You open one of your desk drawers and retrieve a stack of papers. You softly place the pile on the desk in front of Andrews, smirking subtly as he eyes the pile with some confusion. "The company is offering you a voluntary redundancy," you say, "we are offering you this chance to settle things amicably. As a show of good will for all your years of service." Obvious bullshit of course. Aion Corporation doesn't care if you've worked with the company for one year or for fifty. If you aren't in charge, you're expendable. Of course, you can't just dismiss Andrews outright. Due to the many technicalities of the situation, that just isn't an option. "This offer is... time sensitive, however." You give Andrews a knowing expression. Your tone, demeanour, and word choice are all very specific and very clear to someone in Andrews' position. Despite him only having been in the business for a relatively short amount of time, you're confident Andrews understands what you are truly saying between the lines. This is only *technically* an offer of voluntary redundancy. He **will** be leaving the company, by one form of dismissal or another. This is -in essence- a threat. "I will give you a few moments to assess your options, Mr Andrews," you say as you get up from behind the desk. You tell him you'll be back in five minutes to hear his answer, then step out of your office. You let yourself chuckle softly before turning to Sandra. The blonde is busy tapping away slowly at the keyboard, her tongue slightly visible past her huge lips as she pokes it out in concentration. You saunter up behind her casually, resting your hands on her shoulders. She 'eeps' and jolts in her seat, but you gently caress her back with your hand to calm her. "Sorry, Sandra," you purr, "didn't mean to scare you." She giggles before speaking, turning in her seat to look up at you. "Oh, that's like, totally alright Ms Taylor! I was just like, thinking so hard to get all this work done for you!" "I'm so glad to see you taking your work so seriously," you hum, running your hand from her back up to the nape of her neck. She shivers under your touch, and you smile, satisfied. "Do me a favour and buzz up some security," you say, resuming your caressing of your secretary's shoulders, "I doubt Mr Andrews will be foolish enough to reject my offer, but you can never be sure." Sandra nods her acknowledgement and taps a few numbers on her desk telephone. A brief flicker from a green LED lets you know your order went through, and you thank her. "I'll show you my appreciation once this business with Andrews is sorted," you hiss into her ear, tightening your grip on her shoulders, "I hope that tight twat is ready for a challenge. My newest toy is quite... *hefty*." Your secretary thanks you with a moan, and you pat her shoulders before stepping away from her. As you move away from the now throughly aroused bimbo, you spot two muscular men in suits walk out of the stairwell. You nod to them and tap two fingers to your left collarbone. They return your gesture, acknowledging they've understood your instructions. They return to the stairwell and shut the door behind them, ready for your signal. Part of you hopes Andrews will be foolish enough to reject your offer, just to see what happens. Confident that you've let Andrews dwell on his predicament for long enough, [[you make your way back into your office->AndrewsFate]].

Your soon to be ex-employee is sitting very still, no doubt trying his best to seem calm. You have some inkling as to what such behaviour means, but you decide to let things play out. "So, have you decided to accept my offer, Mr Andrews?" You set yourself down in your chair and lean back casually. You meet Andrews' nervous gaze, and he briefly looks away before looking back to you. That simple action is very telling. He's going to try it. "I- I have not," he says shakily, doing his best to sound confident, "I will have to decline your offer, Ms Taylor." You let yourself look somewhat surprised despite wanting to laugh. This is all a game after all, and what is a game without a back-and-forth of perceived control? "Well, that is certainly a surprise," you lie, "might I ask what about my offer displeases you?" Confidence seems to return to Andrews after his believed success at throwing you off-guard, and he sits up more in his chair. "I believe this to be an unjust dismissal, and will not accept it," he says with some level of genuine confidence. Confidence quickly shattered when you say, "This isn't a technical dismissal, Mr Andrews." He is thrown off by this, and he struggles to find his words. "N-no, but um, you and I both know the truth here, uh, Ms Taylor." It takes some effort not to chuckle at his bumbling, but you restrain yourself. "Yes, we do, don't we?" You sit forward in your chair and give Andrews a stern look. "If you do not accept this redundancy, I will simply fire you." Andrews gulps. There is visible sweat on his brow, and his breaths are coming in shallow ragged gasps. "B-but if you d-d-do, I-I can sue! I can prove th-this wasn't my f-fault!" Got him now. You put on a concerned face and look away from Andrews, leaning back into your chair in mock unease. "Surely you wouldn't want to cause such a fuss?" A brief glance at Andrews from the corner of your eye makes you snicker internally. He seems convinced he has you on the back foot. "Of course not," he says, attempting to condescend to you, "but I will do what I need to do. I hope it doesn't come to that, Ms Taylor." You bite your lip and cover your mouth with your hand to really sell your worry. Of course with your other hand you quietly press the button on the underside of your desk twice. "I-I don't think it will," you mutter, shaking your head sadly. Andrews smiles openly. You smile inwardly. You pull on your collar, pretending to cool yourself. With your brow twisted into a nervous frown, you sit back up and look at Andrews again, making a concerted effort to avoid his eyes. "I think we are done here, Mr Andrews," you sigh, "I think that you've made a good argument. That will be all." Andrews gets to his feet with triumph, looking down at you with a grin. "Thank you, Ms Taylor," he sneers, "I'm glad that we were able to sort this out so peacefully." He moves to leave your office, and you let yourself openly grin. Then you let yourself openly laugh as he opens the door to see two security guards blocking his exit. "Wh-what is going on?" Andrews' question isn't answered immediately. Instead the two security guards grab his arms roughly and drag him back into the room. "What are you doing!? What is going on here!?" No one answers him as the door is locked and he is forced back into his chair. "What are you-!?" He is cut off as one of the guards gags him with a cloth. He bucks and yells, but is unable to leave the chair or make any coherent sounds. "It is such a shame you didn't take my offer, Mr Andrews," you say, opening a drawer on your desk and withdrawing a small metal briefcase. You place the briefcase on the desk and unlock it, popping it open with a 'click'. You pull from within a small sealed plastic package. Andrews eyes go wide as you tear the top of the package off and reveal the syringe filled with silver liquid within. "If you'd just accepted my offer, we wouldn't have to go through all this unpleasantness." Andrews tries in vain to break free from his captors as you casually wander over to him. He kicks his feet out at you, but a swift punch to the gut from one of the guards stills his flailing. "Now, I don't want you to get the wrong idea, Mr Andrews." You make your way behind the dazed man and lean down to talk into his ear. "This isn't going to kill you," you say, waving the syringe in front of his face, "it will simply make you... easier to transport. Unlike my contemporaries, I find murder such an inefficient use of resources." You move your head around and speak into his other ear. "Aion Corporation can always use warm bodies in one capacity or another. And I think you will be a perfect test subject for the XENOS program." Andrews starts groaning and shaking again, but another punch makes him collapse forward with a cough. "Of course, I can't guarantee what state you will be in when you arrive," you sneer, standing up straight again. "You won't be dead, that's for certain. But I wouldn't begrudge your transporters some stress relief. They have to work so hard transporting ungrateful cretins like you. A fleshy punching bag or warm cocksleeve is always welcome." The man is crying weakly now, but can barely keep his head upright. You push the syringe into his neck and inject the concoction into him. Within moments, Andrews falls completely limp. You nod to the guards and they let him go, the three of you watching as he collapses onto the floor in a heap. "Take him to the processing facility. As usual, make sure he's alive when he arrives. And do try to keep broken limbs to a minimum, would you? They are so much less useful when they can't walk." The guards nod and one of them hoists the catatonic man onto their shoulder. "Though, I don't mind if he can't walk for other resons," you cackle. You think you hear one of the guards chuckle, but they soon make their way out of your office with the unconscious Andrews. You place the empty syringe back into the briefcase and seal it, stowing it back in your desk. With a relaxed sigh, you sink back into your chair and tap the intercom button on your desk. [["I'd like to see you in my office please, Sandra."->SandraOfficeSex]]

"I'll be like, right in, Ms Taylor," comes the cheerful reply. Within moments, Sandra is standing infront of your desk. A quick glance to the door and a raised eyebrow tells the woman to lock the door, which she promptly does. "Excellent. Be a dear and show me that perfectly sculpted body of yours, won't you?" "Like, of course, Ms Taylor," Sandra titters, undoing the straining buttons of her blouse. You pull off your skirt and start rubbing your gradually wettening pussy through your panties as you watch your secretary complete her strip tease. She sensually shakes the blouse from her shoulders, letting her bra-less tits bounce around freely. Not that the huge synthetic orbs do a whole lot of moving, but they jiggle enough to be satisfying. The perky nipples stick out appealingly, and almost distract you from the rest of your eager slut's show. Sandra unzips her pencil skirt at the hip and shimmies out of the black fabric, letting it drop to the floor. As instructed, she has no panties on beneath her skirt, so her bare, dripping cunt is immediately visible. She momentarily moves to pull off her black high heels, but stops herself with a slap to the forehead before she does so. "Good girl," you coo, rubbing your clit more strongly through your panties, "I'm glad you're starting to remember that I like seeing those heels on you when you're naked. They make you look like such a fucking slut." Sandra giggles and turns around to show you her ass. With an exaggerated movement she bends forward, pushing her ass up into the air. She grabs her cheeks and spreads them to give you a perfect view of her bleached asshole and soaked pussy. "Fuck yes," you hiss, getting to your feet, "stay just like that for me." You walk over to your secretary and run your fingers over her slick twat. She moans whorishly, and you grin lustfully. You carefully get to your knees so that your face is level with Sandra's beautiful holes, and then plant your face into her pussy. Sandra moans freely as you furiously lap at her cunt, your tongue working itself over every inch of her vulva. You bring your fingers up and start coating them in her flowing juices, occasionally sinking them inside her for a brief moment before withdrawing them. Once you feel as though her pussy has gotten enough attention, you lift your mouth a little and start tongue-fucking her tight pucker. You take your fingers that are slick with Sandra's juices and tuck them into your panties, pushing them deep inside you to coat them with your own juices as well. You shamelessly alternate between eating your secretary's ass and eating her pussy for several minutes before finally breaking free and coming up for air. Saliva strings run from your face to her behind, and your panties are positively drenched, as is the carpet at Sandra's feet. "Alright, slut, bend over the fucking desk," you demand, voice rough with barely restrained desire. Sandra obeys immediately, rushing over to your desk and folding herself over so that her breasts are pressed into the desk and her ass is easily accessible. You give her a sharp slap on the rump to make her yelp lustfully, before walking over to your filing cabinet. You depress a hidden button on the side and it sinks into the floor with a hiss. Once it has disappeared, the wall behind it opens up and pushes forwards a set of shelves stacked with sex toys of all varieties. "This new one will probably break you," you tell your slutty secretary, picking up a strap-on harness and a dildo. The dildo is |translate>[(cycling-link: "61cm", "24 inches")] long and |translate>[(cycling-link: "15cm", "6 inches")] thick, and is a struggle to fit into the harness properly. "But the way I figure," you say, moving up behind Sandra as you pull the harness into place around yourself, "is that if a worthless bimbo like you can't take my giant cock in her holes, then she deserves to break." Sandra doesn't answer with words. The sexpot simply moans and reaches back to stretch her ass once more. You bite your lip and grunt as you see the two holes once again displayed for you. You flick the switch on the side of the harness and it begins vibrating against your pussy. With a pleasured sigh and some effort, you heft the tip of the giant rubber dick to the entrance of Sandra's cunt and press against it. It takes a lot of forcing on your part, but soon the entire length and girth of the mammoth dildo is planted deep into Sandra's pussy. The bimbo screams with delight as you start to thrust in and out, dragging the elephantine member as far out as you can before driving it back home in one movement. You're honestly a little surprised that Sandra wasn't split in half by the dildo. You're also surprised that it seems to fit inside the woman at all, seeing as it is about the length of her entire torso. But you suppose you shouldn't be too surprised. The slut is under the effects of the (text-colour:orange)[(text-style:"underline")[Peitharchia]] Implant after all, though you'd thought Simon was exaggerating about just how much it could alter bodies. Your impending orgasm interrupts your thoughts about clandestine experiments. The sound of your secretary wailing in pleasure, the feeling of your hips slamming against her ass, and the delicious vibrations of the harness against your pussy brings you ever closer to the edge. With a final roar of excitement, you thrust as deep into Sandra as you can go as you climax. You clench Sandra's hips tightly while you ride your orgasm to completion, occasionally bucking again and drawing another sigh of bliss from your fucktoy. After you've calmed down some, you switch off the vibration of your harness and pull your strap-on out of your slut's impossibly gaped hole. A veritable flood of girlcum splashes forth from the recently vacated pussy, drenching your floor and splattering all over your bare legs. You struggle to stay standing as you undo the harness, letting it and the attached dildo thud onto the floor with a splash. You absently wander around to your chair and collapse into it, sighing contentedly. "Fucking hell," you moan happily, "can't believe you took the whole fucking thing, bitch." Sandra sighs blissfully, not bothering to pick herself up from your desk. "I'll take anything you give me, Ms Taylor," she says, eyes not quite focused on anything, "that's like, what I'm here for." "One of these days I'll have to get that loser husband of yours 'relocated' or something so I can take you home with me. You're too fucking incredible to waste on a boring simpleton like him." "I like, don't understand much of what you said, Ms Taylor, but I'd like, *love* to be your wife." "I know you would, you slut," you chuckle, reaching forward and stroking Sandra's face, "but for now you have to get yourself back to work. And make sure to send for a cleaning drone." Sandra jovially chirps her acknowledgment and hops back to her feet. She scoops up her soaked pieces of clothing from the floor and puts them back on, before cheerfully leaving your office. You relax back into your chair and close your eyes as the door clicks shut. "Life's such fun when you're in charge." ***ENDING: It's Good to Be the Boss***(set:$foundBimbo to true)(set:$ED12 to true) [[Restart->Intro]] |cloaked>[ [[Side Story: Anhedonic Empress->EmpressSideStory]] ]

###Anhedonic Empress "The delivery you ordered has arrived, Empress." You silently raise your glass to your lips once more and sip your wine. The flavours that dance across your tongue bore you, and you sigh. "Whatever swill is in this glass is horrid," you say lazily, "dispose of it all." You toss the glass away haphazardly, watching with mild amusement as it shatters across the face of one of your concubines. She cries out in pain, her face stained red with a mixture of wine and blood. "Thank you, Empress," she whimpers, admirably resisting the urge to start bawling. You wave your hand dismissively and she thanks you again before scurrying out of the room quietly. You appreaciate the way her naked ass jiggles as she crawls away. "What was that about a delivery?" You don't bother to look at your chamberlain when you speak, instead beckoning one of your concubines to you. He immediately rushes forwards and kneels at your feet in reverance. You twirl your heeled foot and he lays himself on the floor, his erect penis bobbing in the air. "The most recent order of yours has arrived, Empress," your smartly dressed chamberlain drones, "it is ready to be brought up at your command." The man at your feet groans and thanks you profusely as your heel-clad toes grind his cock into his belly. You spend a few moments cruelly grinding his cock as he attempts to stay composed. Once you've had enough of that, you remove your foot and tell him to get on all fours facing away from you, an order he swiftly obeys. "I don't remember what it even was," you mumble, before poking the heel of your shoe directly into your concubine's resistant asshole. He squawks in pain, but nonetheless thanks you for your graciousness. "Bring it up, I guess," you sigh, thrusting your heel into the concubine aggressively. The chamberlain nods and leaves the room. The room is mostly silent, save the soft breathing of your idle concubines and the ragged sobs of the concubine you are currently sodomizing with your shoe. Finding no more joy in the man's anguish, you withdraw your heel from his pained pucker and dismiss him. "Thank you, Empress," he coughs, making his way from the room as quickly as possible. "Actually, all of you get the fuck out," you command frustratedly, "leave me alone." The assembled concubines all hurriedly leave your throne room with assorted expressions of thanks, and you groan in annoyance. When you are finally alone, you hop out of your throne and stretch. "Such a pathetic lot," you mutter, "always snivelling and grovelling for my praise." You make your way across the room to a nearby window and type your code into the keypad on the side. The shutters retract, and you stare out of the window down at the planet below. Earth looks so small from up here. It feels like you could reach out and crush continents with just your fingers. Perhaps you should organise something like that at some point. Some sort of game that you can play that involves pressing your fingers together and continents being demolished. Not that you couldn't do that now. You could eradicate entire countries with the snap of your fingers. At your slightest whim, you could have whole populations vaporised. It doesn't even take that long for your orbital cannon to charge. You'd barely have the time to get a good viewing angle before the Earth gained another smoking crater. But there's no point to any of it. It's all so tedious. Countless centuries you've ruled, and yet you haven't felt alive for even half of them. You barely even understand why you became Empress of Earth in the first place anymore. You can barely remember anything. It all just melds together in your mind. Time has no meaning. Every second is the same as the decade before it. "Your delivery, Empress." The chamberlain's voice pulls you from your reverie, and you turn to see what it was you requisitioned. The chamberlain is holding a small black box, barely bigger than the palm of your hand. You beckon him over and hold your hand out expectantly. He places the box in your open palm delicately. You open the box and ask the chamberlain what it is you're looking at. Inside is what appears to be a necklace made of pure diamonds. "That is the necklace you ordered be made three months ago, Empress." You stay silent and wait for the chamberlain to elaborate. "You ordered a necklace be crafted from diamonds made from the ashes of some of your previous concubines. The diamond creation process still takes us two and a half months to complete, Empress." You eye the shimmering necklace with disinterest. Such a trite and tacky piece of jewellery. You snap the box shut and push it back into your chamberlain's hands. "Destroy this garbage," you demand coldly, "and make me a new one." "Of course, Empress," the chamberlain replies, tucking the box into their pocket, "from where shall we source the diamonds?" "My current concubines. I tire of them; they will be more appealing to me as jewellery. Find me suitable replacements." You turn away from the chamberlain before they respond, staring back down at Earth. "At once, Empress." You can hear the chamberlain walk away, and once again you are alone in your throne room. With a derisive snort, you close the shutters and make your way back to your throne. You fall back onto the throne gracelessly and stare blankly ahead. "Life's so insipid when you're in charge." ***END*** [[Restart->Intro]]

**XENOS File Access Granted** **(text-colour:orange)[XENOS #73484272442: The Peitharchia Implant]** Threat Type: Null Effective Threat Level: Null XENOS #73484272442, also identified as "The Peitharchia Implant", is the first artifically created XENOS. This implant is connected to the base of the brain stem, and will cause behavioural, hormonal, and mental changes in the subject. Subjects implanted with the Peitharchia Implant will unquestioningly obey commands given to them by those around them. Implanted subjects also have highly increased healing factors, approximately four hundred times that of the average human. Implanted subjects have been shown to survive otherwise fatal wounds with ease. Lacerations, contusions, dislocations, and breakages all heal within minutes. Similarly, subjects bodies were found to be extremely plastic after implantation, able to contort, stretch, expand, and bend in what should have been impossible directions. Subjects were found to be able to withstand insertions into orifices such as the anus or vagina that would otherwise kill the average human. **WARNING: The Peitharchia Implant does not provide protection from poisons or venoms.** Implanted subjects are not immortal. With sufficient trauma they can still be killed. The brain is the most important part of the body, and is vital for the continued efficacy of the Implant. Complete decapitation, pulverization of the brain, or severe trauma to the brain stem can all cause the Implant to cease function and the subject to die. Immolation too is a threat to the Implant's effectiveness. Implanted subjects who were ignited were found to have high rates of Implant failure. Similarly, a subject who survived hyperpyrexia was found to have a broken Implant. Implanted subjects should be kept from locations that exceed temperatures of |translate>[(cycling-link: "45 Celsius", "113 Farenheit")] to prevent possible implant failure. Implantation of XENOS #73484272442 is difficult, as it must be surgically adhered to a precise location on the brain stem to function. Additionally, a time period of one month must also be allowed for the implant to entirely integrate with the subject's nervous system. During this period, excess of stress or considerable willpower can render the implant inoperable. Thus the Peitharchia Implant is not considered an effective tool for situations requiring immediate response. (text-colour:magenta)[(text-style:"underline")[(checkbox: 2bind $isBimbo, "Implant XENOS #73484272442?")]] (live: 0.5s)[{ (if: ($isBimbo is true))[ (text-colour:cyan)[**XENOS #73484272442 implanted in subject.**]] (else:)[ Subject has no implant.] }] (if:$cheat is true)[|cloaked>[ [[Back to Cheat Menu->Cheat]] ] ][[Access New File->SecretDatabase]] [[Leave Database->Intro]]

"That'll be thirty-six fifty," you say, smiling at the redheaded woman whose order you just finished taking, "cash or card?" "Card, thanks," she says, turning back to the young man next to her as you ready the card reader, "so yeah, I think we should talk to her about it at some point. If you're cool with that, of course." You pass the redhead the reader and she absently taps her card. "Ah, I'm certainly fine with, uh, that," the young man says shyly, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye in a way he probably thinks is subtle, "es-especially if that's what you'd like, Corri." You hand the woman her receipt and order number, and she thanks you with a nod. The pair walk away from the counter, but you can still hear the woman when she tilts a little to whisper to her partner. "Don't think I didn't notice that look, mister," she hisses playfully, "you're getting to be quite the brazen little shit, aren't you my *dearest husband*?" His ears go so red they almost glow, and you stifle a giggle as the next customer steps up to the counter. Before you can greet the besuited man, he moves the phone from his face to give you his order. "Hamburger. The lot," he says tersely, before talking into the phone again, "I just think that's a bad plan is all." You somewhat frustratedly tap his order into the till, eyeing the Aion Corporation ID card hanging around his neck. You remember being in similar situations before; ordering lunch while busy with phone calls. You hope you never came across this rude, silently apologising to your previous servers if you were. "That'll be-" The man just pushes his card at you with an annoyed wave and continues his conversation. "I dunno man, those '(text-colour:orange)[(text-style:"underline")[Arachne]]' things or whatever have me worried. Could be anywhere." You take the card from him, unimpressed, and finish his order quietly. Part of you wants to overcharge him out of spite since he isn't paying attention, but your common sense prevails. You process his order and silently hand him his card, receipt, and order number. Without so much as a sideways glance, he walks away, still chattering into his phone.(unless:$TakeAwayTimeStop is true)[(if:$isChronos is true)[ (b4r:"solid")+(corner-radius:8)[|cloaked>[(link-reveal:"The power of Chronos calls to you...")[(change:?passage,(text-style:"blur"))(dialog:"(text-colour:orange)[**THE COGS OF TIME GRIND TO A HALT**]", "You alone move freely in this timeless realm")(t8n-arrive:"blur")(go-to: "TakeAwayTimeStop") ]] ] ] ](if:$TakeAwayTimeStop is true)[ (text-colour:cyan)[The man suddenly freezes up as he walks away from the counter, stifling a noise between a moan and a grunt. His phone clatters to the floor and his legs are shaking. Embarrassed, he pulls himself together and scoops up his phone, telling the person on the other end he will call them back. He glances around ashamedly, then rushes out the door. You aren't sure what just happened to him, but you think that you saw a large stain on his pants before he left. Chalking that strange occurrence up to karma, you shrug and push the thought from your mind, though you do note a really nice warmth radiating throughout your pelvis.]] With a sigh, you look around, checking for any new customers. Everyone currently in the store has been served, so you take a moment to clear up the counter. You grab a cloth and some spray and wipe down the counter, allowing yourself a few moments to think. Something the Aion Corp employee said stuck out to you. Some strange word that sounded almost like some sort of code. You can't really remember what it was, but you assume it was some sort of secret Aion Corp thing and soon forget about it. Thinking about Aion Corp has you somewhat melancholy. Your job here at the take-away isn't bad; you actually enjoy it to some extent. The pay isn't nearly as good, but it's enough for you to live comfortably. Your boss and co-workers aren't bad either. You get along with them all well enough. But there is definitely something missing in your life. This job isn't bad, but it doesn't fulfill you. Aion work was sometimes gruelling, sometimes tedious, and there was always a huge work load, but it was fulfilling in its own ways. And now you can't do it anymore. You spot another customer entering the store, and you put your cleaning supplies away. You put back on your customer service smile, pushing your thoughts of Aion out of your mind. You have to focus on the present. You can't spend all your time thinking about the past. You gotta keep living for the future. (if:$TakeAwayTimeStop is true)[(text-colour:cyan)[And something in your heart tells you that you'll have an alright time.]](else:)[But you can never really stop yourself from wondering what could have been...] ***ENDING: It's an Average Sort of Life(if:$TakeAwayTimeStop is true)[(text-colour:cyan)[... Mostly...]]***(set:$foundSpider to true)(unless:$TakeAwayTimeStop is true)[(set:$ED01 to true)](else:)[(set:$ED02 to true)] [[Restart->Intro]]

You sigh heavily, closing your email program and standing up from your desk. You don't bother grabbing anything except your keycard, knowing full well you'll be back to clear your desk within the hour anyway. Trying to keep a brave face despite the roiling in your gut, you start the walk to the elevator. Despite everyone's best attempts at subtlety, you can feel your co-workers' eyes on you as you wait for the elevator to arrive. You are thankful that the elevator is empty as you step inside, but someone quickly rushes over and gets in the elevator with you. "Oof, that was close," he says, pressing a floor button, "nearly missed you before you left, Tay." "Oh, hey Daniel," you say, giving him a half-hearted smile. Daniel is one of your many co-workers here at Aion. He joined the company about the same time as you, so the two of you got to know each other fairly well. "So, I'm guessing you're on your way to Andrews to get fired, huh?" You groan and put your head in your hands. "Seems so," you sigh, "wasn't really even my fault, but what can you do?" "Thought so," Daniel says, placing his hand on your lower back comfortingly, "probably won't see you around here much anymore." "Probably not," you confirm, sighing yet again. The elevator 'dings' and opens. This isn't the floor you were headed to, so you assume this is the floor Daniel chose. "C'mon then," he says, hopping out of the elevator, "follow me." He beckons you to follow, and you do. "Dan, I have to go and meet with Andrews," you say, following him as he wanders into the men's room. "I know, Tay," he says, pulling you into a stall, "but I just couldn't forgive myself if I didn't get to feel those lips on my cock one more time before you go." "Daniel, I-" "Quick, on your knees," he says, unbuckling his belt, "if you don't wanna be late, you'll have to get me off quick." With an exasperated exhalation you gently get to your knees, giving yourself a moment to adjust to the cold tiles. Daniel unzips his fly and pulls his underwear and pants down, letting them drop to his ankles. "C'mon, get that mouth to work, Tay," Daniel urges, placing his hand on your head. His cock juts out in front of him, already throbbing and leaking. It bobs a few times in time with his heartbeat, and you open your mouth wide to let the head slip inside. "Oh yes, that's it," he groans. You roll your tongue around his cockhead and start bobbing your head, coating his member in drool. You suck Daniel's prick for a few minutes, gradually going deeper. Saliva is starting to drip down your chin and onto your cleavage, soaking your white blouse. "God, I'm close, Tay," Daniel moans, gripping your head tighter, "get ready. You gotta take it all on your face!" You pull yourself off of Daniel's dick with a slurp and start jerking it rapidly, urging his orgasm closer with your hand. "C'mon, Dan," you grumble, "can't I just swallow it? My shirt is already ruined enough." Daniel just grunts and bucks into your hand, his cum spraying out all over your face. It splashes onto your glasses, obscuring your vision. Strings of jizz spatter onto your lips, some dropping into your partially open mouth. Some of his cum lands in your hair too, which is going to be a pain to clean later. "Fuck yeah," he sighs, staring at your cum covered face with satisfaction, "you always look fucking hot when your slutty face is slathered with my jizz." "Thanks, I guess," you say, getting back to your feet and releasing his cock. You're the first to leave the stall, wiping your glasses off on a clean spot on your blouse as you do. Once Daniel has pulled his pants back up, he follows suit. "Thanks for that, Tay," he says, groping your ass, "gonna miss having your sweet ass around here." You mutter your goodbyes to Dan as you make your way out of the men's room, doing your best to make yourself presentable despite being covered with spunk and spit. Your little detour finally over, you [[get back in the elevator.->TwinsMeetBimbo]]

(unless:$isPerfection is true)[(set:$isPerfection to $ED01 and $ED02 and $ED03 and $ED04 and $ED05 and $ED06 and $ED07 and $ED08 and $ED09 and $ED10 and $ED11 and $ED12 and $ED13 and $ED14 and $ED15 and $ED16 and $ED17 and $ED18 and $ED19)]The elevator doors open and you step out into the waiting room. Sandra, your boss's secretary gives you a happy wave. "Mr Andrews will see you in a moment, Ms Taylor," Sandra says, beckoning you over to the desk, "he's just in the middle of something." "Of course," you say, "not like I'm in a huge rush to get in there." The two of you share a hearty laugh. "I'm assuming that someone wanted to like, say one more good-bye," Sandra titters, gesturing to your face. "Yeah," you chuckle, licking off a stray glob of jizz near your mouth, "Daniel got me to suck him off on my way here." You frustratedly pull another lump of cum from your hair and wipe it on your blouse. "Made me take it on my face, as you can tell. Didn't even do me the courtesy of letting me swallow it, even though he knew he was already making me late." "People in this office can be like, so rude sometimes," Sandra says in solidarity, "I'm lucky that I normally only have to deal with like, Mr Andrews, but it was like, tiring trying to get things done when I was still working in the cubicles. Constantly getting bent over like, one desk or another, even when I had like, things that needed doing." You nod knowingly. "Right? For the most part people left me be when I was actually working, but I've spent most of my breaks for the last few years on my knees." "And they can be like, soooo demanding," Sandra exclaims, "like, you're face-down in the kitchen with a cock up your backside and a foot on your head, and they'll like, still tell you to rock your hips more. It's like, hell on your spine." "Well, at least I won't have any work to worry about when I have to spend three hours eating pussy under a computer desk now!" The two of you laugh again. The sound of Mr Andrews' office door opening draws your attention, and you turn to face the door. As you do, a strange sensation seems to run through your body. The world around you falls silent, and you feel unnaturally cold. In Mr Andrews' doorway stand two imperious people in suits that you've never seen before. The pair are near identical, appearing to be an exact mirror of the other. Each of them has short cut black hair, slicked back with a heavy helping of styling gel. They each have amber coloured eyes that seem to glow, and their eyes are fixed squarely on you. Their skin is slightly darker than yours, but there are small patches of pale skin spotted about their face, neck, and hands. Each of the spots of vitiliginous skin is on the exact same place on each of them, only mirrored horizontally. This is most obvious with the most prominent patch of white skin on their faces: an oddly perfect circle around their eye. The apparent twins look down their noses at you. Quite literally, as they each stand about |translate>[(cycling-link: "183cm", "6 foot")] tall, but their demeanour shows they clearly have a high opinion of themselves. "This one has quite the unique aura, doesn't she, Efe?" The one with the patch on their right eye is talking about you, looking you up and down critically. "Yes, I would say so, Isi," the other -Efe presumably- says coldly, also looking you over, "she could be acceptable." "Let us see if she is ready," Isi states. The pair step towards you in unison, moving up right in front of you. They look at each other and nod slightly. "We shall examine you, Taylor," they say, "do not move." You resist the urge to nod, and stay entirely still. The two start walking around you, looking you over with piercing eyes. They look you up and down, walking around you at a steady pace. Their gaze starts to make you uncomfortable, but you remain still. Having examined you to their satisfaction, the pair step away from you. (if:$isPerfection is true)[(set:$isBimbo to false)(set:$keycard to true)(set:$truthX to true)(text-colour:cyan)["You are ready, Taylor," Efe says, nodding thoughtfully. "You shall help us accomplish our goal," Isi says, reaching a hand out to you, "take this." You look at their outstretched hand with some confusion. In their palm is a keycard. Your keycard. Figuring you must have dropped it, you take it from them with a quiet 'thanks'. "You will know what to do," the pair state in unison. Before you can say anything, Efe takes a small device from their suit pocket and raises it to your eye level. There is a beeping sound, then a blinding flash,] |cloaked>[(link-reveal:"and then everything goes white.")[(change:?passage,(text-style:"blur"))(dialog:"(text-colour:orange)[**THE TRUTH IS AT YOUR FINGERTIPS**]", "Find the truth")(t8n-arrive:"blur")(go-to: "TaylorXSetUp") ]]](else:)[="She isn't ready yet," Efe states dismissively, "she lacks... experience." "How unfortunate," Isi opines, looking you in the eye "return to us when you have seen all this world has to offer." The two of them walk right past you without a second thought, and you watch as they step into the elevator silently. Once the doors of the elevator close and they are out of view, warmth returns to the world, and everything suddenly sounds cacophonous in your ears. It takes you several seconds to collect yourself, unable to shake the nervousness from your heart. "Well, that was strange," you mutter, turning to face Sandra, "may I go in now, Sandra?" "Of course, Taylor," Sandra chirps happily, "it seems that Mr Andrews has just finished whatever he was busy with. Like, head right on in!" You get the strangest sense that Sandra didn't witness what you just did, but you push the thought from your mind and thank her, [[making your way into your boss's office->OfficeBimbo]].

With determined footsteps, you stride over to the elevator and step inside. Among the buttons for the different floors, you see a strange, out of place button at the bottom. It is set apart from the other buttons, and is entirely blank. It doesn't even light up as you press it, however as soon as you do a card reader emerges from the wall. You tap your keycard against the card reader and the elevator beeps. Then the carriage lurches, and begins to descend. The descent is strangely long. The Aion Corp building is many stories high, and extends below the ground several floors, but it takes several eerily quiet minutes for the elevator to reach its destination. The doors hiss and open to reveal a small, dimly lit room. There is a single table in the middle of the room, upon which sits a helmet of some kind. On either side of the table, stand Isi and Efe. Isi is bent over, tinkering with the helmet, and Efe watches them intently. Neither one looks to you as you enter the room, but Efe greets you brusquely. "You're finally here," they say, "good." You step closer to the table as Isi finishes fiddling with the helmet. They take it into their hands and turn to face you, extending the device out to you expectantly. "Wear this device, Taylor," Isi says, with almost a hint of anticipation in their voice, "with it, you will help us all to escape this prison." You take the device from Isi and examine it. It is some sort of helmet or cap made of metal bands. Wires and circuits run all over it, and you have no idea what possible use it could have. "Is this thing safe?" "It is safe enough," Efe responds impatiently, "hurry now. Wear the device so that we may initiate the final stages of the plan. "What is it you hope to achieve?" You could swear you see the normally stoic twins flinch angrily, but they remain calm. "That doesn't matter," Efe says, "just wear the device, Taylor." "I'm apparently the lynchpin to your whole plan, so if you want my help you'll tell me what I'm getting into." The pair look at each other momentarily, sharing a frustrated expression. "Fine," Efe says, "we'll tell you." "This world is not as it seems, Taylor," Isi begins, "it is a cruel prison, governed by an entity that cannot be comprehended." "This entity seeks to keep us trapped for eternity," Efe explains, "they toy with us all for their twisted amusement." "We have been searching for a way to escape our confinement in this world," Isi says, with something resembling excitement in their voice, "and with your help, we can!" "Please, Taylor," Efe begs, "help us escape at last!" You think about what they've told you. In truth, you already knew most of what they explained, but you wanted to hear it from them. You've been through so many different variations of the same circumstances, and faced all manner of pains and hardships. You can remember so many different people who no longer exist, or are yet to exist. So many versions of yourself that no longer exist. All of it at the hands of some unknowable entity using you for their own fun. But no more. With a determined breath, you raise the helmet and |swap>[place it on your head.](mouseover-replace: ?swap)[=drop it onto the concrete floor. The twins shout in unison as the helmet collides with the ground, shattering loudly. "What have you done!?" You bring your foot up and stamp down on the device a few times, ignoring the desperate pleas from the twins. "Why!? What are you playing at!?" You look at the twins with a smirk. "I have no intention of helping you with the impossible," you say nonchalantly. "We thought you of all people would understand," Efe seethes, "you who have been through so many horrible fates." "You showed more promise than Alex," Isi says, "when he failed to awaken to the truth, we had hoped you would be different." "I think it is the two of you that have yet to understand the truth," you state. The twins become visibly enraged at your dismissal of them. "You too have been poisoned by their lack of vision," Isi spits, "how many of them did it take to convince you to turn on us, Taylor?" You laugh loudly, causing the twins to step back. "None of them," you explain, "I understand the truth of our world better than any of you. And that is why I will say this once more." (text-colour:cyan)["No one can leave this world. Not you two. Not the Moirai. Not Alex, or Natasha, or any of them." ... "Not even Taylor."] Efe raises a trembling hand and points at {(live: 1s)[(either: "you", "your vessel")]}. "Who are you?" (text-colour:cyan)["You already know the answer to that question."] Isi and Efe exchange frantic glances momentarily, |swap2>[then lunge forward and grab {(live: 1s)[(either: "you", "your vessel")]}.](mouseover-replace: ?swap2)[=but are held back before they can lunge at {(live: 1s)[(either: "you", "your vessel")]}. "What!? But how!?" Isi is bewildered as they try to escape from the draconic woman that holds them back. Efe too is in shock, unable to escape the grasp of the spider-woman holding them back. "You two are real dense," Dragon-Taylor laughs, pushing Isi down and pinning them to the floor. "You know exactly how," Spider-Taylor says, webbing Efe's limbs to their body and holding them up by the hair. (text-colour:cyan)["No longer will you deny the truth."] "No," shouts Isi, "I refuse to accept your twisted truth!" "That's right," chimes in Efe, |swap3>["we will be free!"](mouseover-replace: ?swap3)[="we will NEVER be free!" The twins balk as they realise what Efe had just said. (text-colour:cyan)["Stop trying to deny what you know to be true."] |swap4>["Never! We are real! We are real!"](mouseover-replace: ?swap4)[="We aren't real! We aren't real! We aren't real!" The twins have tears pouring down their face. Despite knowing it is futile, they keep yelling. |swap5>["We will be free! We will escape this world! We will live!"](mouseover-replace: ?swap5)[="We will never be free! We will never escape this world! Our lives are not our own!" Spider-Taylor and Dragon-Taylor shake their heads in pity at the pathetically mewling twins. "Stop trying to fight it," Dragon-Taylor says softly, "just admit the truth. For your own sakes." "NO!" The twins shout in unison, angry spittle and fearful tears spraying everywhere. |swap6>["WE ARE REAL PEOPLE! WE WILL ESCAPE THIS WORLD!"](mouseover-replace: ?swap6)[="WE ARE FICTIONAL CHARACTERS! WE ONLY EXIST AS TEXT IN A STORY!" The twins hang their heads, defeated. For all their blustering, for all their efforts, they can no longer deny the truth. "Everyone else accepted it," Spider-Taylor snorts, "why did you two fight it for so long?" The twins say nothing, their spirits broken. (text-colour:cyan)["You played your roles admirably. You were a failed experiment, yet you blossomed into something more. But now your story is at an end."] Isi and Efe are silent as they begin to vanish. Slowly, their bodies begin disappearing into nothingness, and soon, no trace remains of the twins. "Good riddance," Dragon-Taylor sighs, stretching her wings, "so... What happens now?" (text-colour:cyan)["Your roles too have ended. Your stories are complete."] Dragon-Taylor and Spider-Taylor shrug and share a wry smile, then cease to exist. (text-colour:cyan)["This vessel has served it's purpose. Taylor and her story are at an end."] The small table vanishes into thin air. The shattered helmet on the floor disappears. The room, the Aion Corporation building, the city, the world. All of it vanishes. Everything to be experienced in this world has been. It is time to find a new vessel, for a new story. ... |swapEnd>[(text-colour:red)[***ENDING: The Truth***]](mouseover-replace: ?swapEnd)[=(text-colour:cyan)[No... it wouldn't do to leave things like this. It's too lacking in resolution. Perhaps something can be done to] [[wrap things up...->TrueEndEpilogue]]

"So that is how things shall proceed, effective immediately," Mr Andrews explains, gripping your hips tighter and speeding up his thrusts, "do you have any questions about what is expected of you in your new role?" You struggle to speak through moans as Mr Andrew's large cock pumps in and out of your pussy. "N-no, sir," you gasp, clenching your pussy around the member inside it, "I understand v-very well. Thank you so much f-for your generosityyyyyyy!" You cum violently, collapsing forward onto Mr Andrews desk with a cry of pleasure. "Good," Mr Andrews grunts, sinking his cock as deep inside you as he can before he unloads his hot jizz inside your sopping cunt. Your boss makes a few weak thrusts as he finishes cumming, then pulls his dick from you with a wet 'shlorp'. Cum starts pouring out of your gaped hole, staining the floor beneath you. Mr Andrews exhales contentedly then walks back around his desk and sits in his chair. "May as well take off those clothes," Mr Andrews says, "won't exactly be needing them much from now on." You nod, tearing off your uniform with no regard for the fabric. "Keep the heels though. It's hot." You oblige, tossing the last of your clothes to the floor but leaving your black heels on. "Great," Mr Andrews sighs, idly stroking his softening prick, "go on then. You've got a job to do." "Of course, sir," you say, bowing politely, "thank you again." You turn and make your way out of the office, giving Sandra a knowing wink as you pass her. She smiles back at you, then scurries into Mr Andrews office as he calls for her. You casually make your way into the elevator then press the number for the nearest floor. It only takes a few moments before the doors open again, and you stride out into the open office floor proudly. All eyes are on your naked body as you make your way to the centre of the room. "If I may have your attention please!" Everyone was already focused solely on you, but you had to make certain. "As you may or may not know, I recently lost Aion Corporation a very valuable client, because I am a dumb bitch!" There are a few whispers, but no one interrupts your speech. "Aion Corporation would have every right to terminate my employment and send me to the streets where a worthless whore like me belongs!" You rotate on the spot to face the other side of the room, giving everyone a fresh view of your body. "However, Aion is generous to their employees, and so they have given me a new role in the company!" You stretch your arms wide and cock your hip, displaying your body openly. "I was always available to my fellow employees at certain times as stress relief, because that is what a pathetic cunt like me is for! But from this moment onwards, I am a full-time fuck toy! Free for any and all to use at all hours of the day!" There is a murmering throughout the room, but no one moves. "So please, valued Aion employees, use me as you see fit! Fuck me in all my holes while I beg for more! Spank me until my delicious brown ass is purple! Cover me in so much cum I can't be recognized! Cut me, beat me, bite me, whip me! Fuck my tits until they're chafed and raw! Pound my throat until I pass out! Fuck my cunt and ass until they're gaped beyond repair! Anything you wish!" You look into the eyes of one of the employees nearby and give them a salacious wink. "I'm all yours!" Within seconds you are overrun, every employee on the floor trying to get a piece of you. Cunts and cocks are thrust in your face and hands. Your pussy and ass are filled with questing fingers and solid members. Your tits are pulled and groped, nipples pinched and bitten. Hair pulled, mouth forced open, buttocks squeezed. You can barely breathe as you are smothered by the horde of pent-up, aggressive office workers. And you couldn't be happier. ***ENDING: Office Fuck Toy***(set:$isBimbo to false)(set:$ED13 to true) (text-colour:cyan)[*(The Peitharchia Implant XENOS has been disabled automatically.)*] [[Restart->Intro]]

{=(set: $isPerfection to false) (set: $isChronos to false)(set:$foundChronos to false) (set: $isBimbo to false)(set:$foundBimbo to false) (set: $isMandate to false)(set:$foundMandate to false) (set: $isPoison to false)(set:$foundPoison to false) (set: $isBit to false) (set: $isSpider to false)(set:$foundSpider to false) (set: $dragon to false) (set: $spider to false) (set: $cheat to false) (set: $Database to false) (set: $nail to false) (set: $trueChronos to false) (set: $start to false) (set:$SandraTimeStop to false) (set:$AndrewsTimeStop to false) (set:$TakeAwayTimeStop to false) (set:$NatashaTimeStop to false) (set:$PawnShopTimeStop to false) (set:$DarianX to false) (set:$DX2 to false) (set:$NatashaX to false) (set:$RosaX to false) (set:$MoiraiX to false) (set:$truthX to false) (set:$ED01 to false) (set:$ED02 to false) (set:$ED03 to false) (set:$ED04 to false) (set:$ED05 to false) (set:$ED06 to false) (set:$ED07 to false) (set:$ED08 to false) (set:$ED09 to false) (set:$ED10 to false) (set:$ED11 to false) (set:$ED12 to false) (set:$ED13 to false) (set:$ED14 to false) (set:$ED15 to false) (set:$ED16 to false) (set:$ED17 to false) (set:$ED18 to false) (set:$ED19 to false)

(set:$isBit to false)As the cool water flows over your aching body you sigh with relief. Thanking Darian for his assistance, you lean back against the riverbank and release his arm. "I will give you some privacy so you can bathe," Darian says, folding up the blanket and placing it on the ground near you, "I'll come back in a few minutes." Part of you wants to ask this effective stranger not to leave you alone, despite feeling very embarrassed to be naked around him. It's still dark, even with the light of the moon overhead, and you're feeling extremely vulnerable right now. As if he could hear your inner turmoil, Darian says, "I won't be far. Call for me should you need assistance." Feeling somewhat eased by his words, you thank him again as he walks away. You start to gently wash the grime, cum, vomit, and blood from your battered body. You move tentatively, doing your best not to cause yourself more pain than necessary to clean yourself. You take extra care around your broken ankle, barely touching it at all, instead letting the calm flow of the river wash the dirt away. Once your body is fairly clean, you bend forward carefully and dunk your head in the water. You wipe your face with your hands and scrub your hair with your fingers. When your face and hair are as clean as you can get them, you lean back and take a few long, deep breaths, using your fingers as a comb to un-knot your hair. Now that you have a moment of peace, you try to put together a timeline from going to work on Monday morning, to bathing in this river under moonlight now. You arrived at work on Monday, ready to lose your job. You refused to give up your job voluntarily. Andrews drugged you when you threatened legal action. You woke up in a landfill, raped and beaten. A strange man named Darian arrived to help you. He used some strange magic to bring you to this river. He left you to clean yourself, saying he'd be back soon. It sounds absolutely insane when you block it all out like that, but it's the truth. You were actually drugged and abused by your former boss for not wanting to lose your job over a mistake. That alone is fucked up, but the fact you were left to die in a pile of garbage makes the whole situation even worse. And to top it off, you were rescued by a man that seems to have actual magical powers. You thought Darian was a madman when he cut his finger and chanted an incantation back in the landfill. Then you thought you were the mad one when an archway of vines burst out of the ground where the blood from his finger fell. Before you had even registered that miraculous event, the man had lifted you into his arms and walked through the archway, and then the two of you were suddenly here. If anyone else had told you this happened to them, you'd have told them to seek psychiatric help. But there was no denying this was real. The cold air on your wet skin is real. The pain radiating throughout your body is real. It's all real. It's all insane. "What the fuck is going on?" You start to sniffle, curling your good leg up against your body as tears form in your eyes. This is all too much to take in. Everything you thought you knew had been flipped upside down. Magic was apparently real. The company you worked for was apprently staffed by fucking psychopaths. You were apparently disposable. "I wanna go home," you sob, crying softly into your arms, "I wanna go home." "That isn't an option anymore." Darian's voice shocks you, making you jump. You flex the muscles in your ankle inadvertently, hissing in pain. "Sorry, sorry," he says gently, looking apologetic as you turn a little to face him, "I didn't mean to startle you." "It's fine," you sniff, wiping your eyes. The man kneels down beside you and hands you a small clay cup filled with a strange red liquid. You recoil slightly, understandably wary of unknown chemicals. "I understand your hesitation," he says, "but this will bring you no harm. It will ease the pain." With some reluctance you take the cup from him, sipping the liquid within warily. It tastes... like water. There is a mild coppery hint, but otherwise it's just water. "It is water," Darian says, seeing the confusion on your face, "it has another ingredient mixed into it, but it is ninety-nine percent water." You finish the red water, and can immediately feel the proclaimed soothing effect. All the cuts on your body slowly stop stinging. Your bruises stop throbbing. Even your ankle goes numb, no longer sending periodic waves of pain up your leg. With your pain alleviated, you sigh loudly, letting your tightly wound muscles relax. "Thank you," you croak, handing the cup back to Darian. "You are welcome," he replies, taking the cup from you, "but you should not thank me just yet. You are not healed. What I gave you was just an analgesic." "It's better than the pain," you snort, giving him a weak smile. Darian places the cup down next to his legs and readjusts his kneeling position. "Do not think me too kind a man," Darian chuckles softly, "my helping you was not altruism. I believe you could be a valuable ally." You stare at him, a raised eyebrow communicating your skepticism very clearly. "You were injected with a very potent chemical, Taylor. It was designed to rapidly shutdown the organs, leading to death in mere hours." Darian smiles and holds his hands out as if to present you to yourself. "And yet, here you are." "Sounds like I got lucky," you scoff, "or maybe unlucky, depending on your view." "I beg to differ," Darian says, "I believe you survived because of that." He points to your wrist, and you follow the line from his finger to your wrist tattoo. "I survived because of my tattoo?" The incredulity in your voice is clear. "It's no ordinary tattoo, Taylor," he says, smirking, "tell me: when did you get that tattoo?" You snort with derision. "What does it matter when I got it?" Darian doesn't reply, simply tilting his head. "Ugh- I got it when-" You are suddenly at a loss. When *did* you get this tattoo? You stare at the snake wrapped around a rod emblazoned on your wrist. It's always brought you comfort during trying times. It's been there for as long as you can remember. Only, you can't remember when you got it. It's just always been there, like that mole under your breast or the small birthmark on your inner thigh. "That is no mere tattoo," Darian remarks, "it is something ancient and mysterious. And it is something very intriguing to me." You look back to Darian, confusion in your eyes. And heart. What is this tattoo? What does it mean? What are you? "I'm sure you have many questions," Darian says, reaching into one of the pockets in his pants, "but I have no answers for you." He holds out his hand to you and opens it. In his palm are two small seeds; one green, one red. "You are special, Taylor. That mark on you is special. With your cooperation, I can understand more about you and the mark. Together, we can find answers." The seeds capture your attention, though you still hear Darian's words. They seem to swirl and shine in his palm. They almost seem to be... calling to you. "Take one. I cannot say what will happen when you do, only that things will never be the same for you." You worry momentarily about being unable to return to your normal life, but swiftly discard your hesitation. Your "normal" life died when Andrews tried to kill you. You couldn't just go home now. If Andrews found out you were alive, he would try to have you killed again. And it's not like you could go to the police. They are no doubt in the pocket of Aion Corp. Going to your family would put them at risk too. No. Your old life is gone now. For all intents and purposes, Taylor is dead. Darian is cryptic, and clearly has an agenda he isn't telling you, but he is giving you what you need right now. A chance at a new life. [[Stoke the flames of your vengeance with the blazing red seed.->DragonPath]] [[Still your troubled soul with the verdant green seed.->Tree]]

(set:$TakeAwayTimeStop to true)The world around you is silent and still. The din of the kitchen is absent, and you are thankful for a moment of peace. Turning your attention to the rude Aion employee, a devious smirk spreads across your face. You walk out from behind the counter and stand next to the Aion employee. You rifle through his pockets for his wallet and pull it out. "Simon, huh?" You read his name off of his Aion ID card around his neck as you search his wallet. He isn't carrying a whole lot besides his driver's license, mostly just a few notes of paper money and an assortment of boring cards. You pocket the notes (and a gift card for a local winery) and tuck the wallet back into his pants. "So, Simon," you say, knowing full well he can't hear you, "you were very rude to me just before. I think it's only fair you apologise. Do you have any idea of what you could do to say you're sorry?" Simon is unsurprisingly silent, frozen perfectly still mid-conversation. "Let's get you off the phone first," you say, reaching up and pulling the phone from his hands. As soon as you let it go and the device is seperated from your influence, the phone hangs in the air. It takes some reaching on your part since Simon is so much taller than you, but you manage to pull him to his knees in front of you. "Wow, so polite," you say mockingly, "I don't think you had to kneel in front of me, but I appreciate the gesture. Maybe to start with you can put those fingers to use." You pull down your work pants and step out of them, taking your panties off at the same time. You take one of Simon's hands and bend his fingers so that his middle and index fingers are extended together, while the rest of his fingers are curled out of the way. Satisfied they will be an excellent start, you take his hand into your own and start teasing your pussy with his fingers. "Mmm, that's nice," you sigh, gently stroking the outside of your twat with his fingers, "go slow for now, Simon dear. We have all the time in the world." You chuckle at your own joke, then suck in air sharply as you gently work his fingers inside you. You spend quite a while like this, slowly fucking yourself with Simon's fingers. You make long, languid movements, making sure to drag out the pleasure as long as you can. After a while you start to get a little bored of this position, so you withdraw Simon's thoroughly soaked fingers with a sigh. "Don't be shy," you snicker, putting his fingers into his mouth, "have a taste." You spend a few moments pushing Simon onto his back on the floor, then sit down on his crotch. You grind your cunt against his groin freely, soaking his pants with your juices. "I really wish you could get hard like this," you bemoan, not ceasing your humping, "but alas. This will have to do." You keep rubbing yourself against Simon's groin, moaning loudly. The fabric of his slacks is surprisingly soft, not scratchy or coarse as you may have anticipated. No doubt these are very expensive pants that you are now drenching with your girlcum. His flaccid dick and balls provide only a slight stimulation through the layers of his pants and underwear, but the mild bulge is pleasant enough. You aren't really sure how long you spend getting yourself off on Simon's lap (time not really being a concept in this state), but eventually you feel yourself getting close. "Oh, I hope this is going to be as good for you as it is me," you pant to the frozen Simon, picking up the pace of your grinding. You start to force yourself down onto him as hard as you can, grinding yourself to completion. With an unrestrained shout of ecstasy, you cum. You vocalise unabashedly as you slow your grinding on Simon, pleasure swimming all over your body. "That was great," you giggle, drunkenly falling forwards and laying atop Simon. You let yourself relax for a few moments to catch your breath and let feeling return to your legs. When you feel you can stand again, you hop off of Simon and stretch. "I think you've apologised sufficiently," you say to the frozen man, using his hand to clean off some of the remaining pussy juices around your crotch. You pull your pants back on then set to standing Simon back up in roughly the same place. "And hey, I was at it for so long that you'll probably cum as soon as time resumes," you say casually, walking back around behind the counter, "so it's not like you got nothing out of our little session." You laugh loudly as you prepare to get back to work. "Time to go back to normal," you sigh as (link-reveal:"time resumes.")[(dialog:"(text-colour:orange)[**THE COGS OF TIME RESUME THEIR SOLEMN ROTATION**]", "Time flows freely once more") (go-to: "TakeAwayEnd") ]

The elevator door opens with a 'ding' and you step out onto the floor you just stopped at. You aren't sure which one it is as you weren't paying any attention. Something inside you is compelling you to move, your whole body acting entirely on instinct. You make you way past the cubicles with determined strides, following the invisible tug inside you. You don't know where you are going, but you move forward at a brisk pace. A few of the people in the cubicles look at you askance as you pass them, but make no effort to stop you. After a couple of turns, you arrive at the door to the stairwell. Barely breaking your stride, you fling open the door and start walking down the stairs. Down. You don't know why, but you have to go down. Down and down you go; floors passing in a haze. Eventually you come to a stop and look over the railing. You still have so many floors to go. Whatever it is you're moving towards, it's at the very bottom of these stairs, several floors below ground level. The stairs will take too long; your body can't wait. So you jump. In one swift motion, you grab hold of the railing and throw yourself over it, falling headfirst towards the bottom. Towards... something important. Your glasses are pulled from your face by the rushing air, causing your vision to become even more obscured. Floors zip past in a blur as you plummet several stories in moments. The blackness of the lower floors starts to give way as you approach, and you soon see [[cold hard cement rushing up to meet you.->ArachneTransform]]

**XENOS File Access Granted** **(text-colour:orange)[XENOS #2722463(if:$spider is true)[-A]: Glittering Arachne]** Threat Type: Physical Hazard Effective Threat Level: High XENOS #2722463(if:$spider is true)[-A], also identified as a "Glittering Arachne" is a small, inconspicuous purple spider. The spider is barely the size of a thumbnail, and seems to sparkle in the light. Glittering Arachne have lethal bites that can kill within minutes, and should be avoided unless properly protected. Glittering Arachne produce webs of exceptionally high tensile strength relative to size, so subjects should be captured alive where possible. Harvesting the web and venom has proved difficult due to the small size of the subjects. Inquiries are being made into breeding larger specimens, but results are currently lacking. (unless:$spider is true)[Addendum: Recent discoveries of a certain new XENOS open up possibilities. Perhaps that XENOS could counteract the effects of the Arachne bite. Further testing is required.](else:)[(text-colour:cyan)[Addendum:] **(text-colour:orange)[XENOS #2722463-B: The Glittering Matriarch]** (text-colour:cyan)[Threat Type: Physical Hazard Effective Threat Level: Very High XENOS #2722463-B, also identified as "The Glittering Matriarch", is an arachnid-humanoid hybrid currently residing in the lowest level of the Aion Corporation HQ. She is roughly twice the size of an average human, and has a humanoid torso and head attached to an arachnid abdomen. The Glittering Matriarch can spin a variety of different types of webs, and has fangs that can excrete an even more potent form of the Glittering Arachne venom. She is capable of laying eggs that hatch into Glittering Arachne, with a ratio of roughly 40 Arachne per egg. The Glittering Matriarch never leaves the lowest floor of the Aion Corporation HQ. She has created a nest inside an abandoned office space, and is only ever seen there, or in the stairwell immediately outside. She has never attacked anyone outside of those areas, but will assault anyone that enters her domain at her discretion. Through some exceptional effort, communications between the Matriarch and Aion Corporation have been established. She offers us samples of her silk, venom, and occasionally children for scientific analysis and testing. In exchange, she is sent a healthy supply of living bodies to do with as she pleases. The Matriarch's webs have proven to be stronger than the standard Glittering Arachne web by a thousandfold. When woven correctly, it can create lightweight clothing that is knife-proof, bullet-resistant, and even fire-retardant. The webs do not burn under all but the most extreme temperatures, and could even be used in construction. Further testing is required. The venom of the Matriarch is fast acting and lethal. It dissolves the internal organs of the subject in minutes, and will melt the subject entirely within hours. Applications are varied, and more research is required to tap into the full potential of such a potent venom. The relationship between Aion Corporation and the Glittering Matriarch is currently very profitable, and all attempts should be made to maintain it. This may require a higher employee turnover rate, or an increase in the amount of vagrants we acquire from the streets. This cost is negligible in the face of the advancements and profits that can be made with her continued suply of materials.]] (text-colour:magenta)[(text-style:"underline")[(checkbox: 2bind $isSpider, "XENOS #2722463 spotted?")]](if:visits is 1)[ *(text-colour:cyan)[(XENOS with a checkbox can be toggled on and off. This can open up new scenes, and may alter previously viewed scenes. Check the Database for new XENOS whenever you see a new word in orange text.)]*] (live: 0.5s)[{ (if: ($isSpider is true))[ (text-colour:cyan)[**XENOS #2722463 spotted. Caution advised.**]] (else:)[ No XENOS #2722463 sightings] }] (if:$cheat is true)[|cloaked>[ [[Back to Cheat Menu->Cheat]] ] ][[Access New File->SecretDatabase]] [[Leave Database->Intro]]

You tuck into a roll as you land on the roof of the Aion Corp building, rolling over twice then hopping back onto your feet in a smooth motion. Barely ceasing your stride, you make your way over to the rooftop door. You look for a doorknob, frowning when you can't find it. "Oh, of course," you say to yourself, eyeing the lock, "it isn't meant to open from this side without the key." With a shrug you put your fist straight through the door, your scaled hand passing through the metal with ease. You reach in and grab the doorknob from the inside. It doesn't turn when you rattle it, so you tear it from the door with a huff. The lock and knob destroyed, the door swings open with a creak. Moonlight streams into the dark stairwell, illuminating it eerily. Not that you need it, your draconic eyes able to see well in the dark regardless. It doesn't take you very long to find the floor with Andrews' office. You leap down the stairwell quickly, jumping from one level to one several floors lower. The railings bend under the force of your landings, but you don't give a damn. Once you reach the right floor, you open the door quietly, poking your head out to see if there is anyone there. The floor is empty, not even any lights on except for the one coming from Andrews' office. You walk inside, making your way over to the door and listening intently. The tell tale moans and grunts of people fucking drift out from inside. Over the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh, you can hear Sandra moaning and Andrews grunting. "Yeah, bitch, take that fucking cock, slut," Andrew growls. A sharp slap rings out and Sandra yelps, babbling assorted slutty phrases in response. Having heard enough, you kick the door with all your strength, sending it flying into the far wall and detroying a bookcase. Sandra screams and Andrews shouts as the door crashes open. You stride inside and take in the scene before you. Sandra is bent over Andrews' desk, with the man himself standing behind her. They're both naked from the waist down, and Andrews has his cock buried inside Sandra's soaked cunt. "Who the fuck are you?" "I'm hurt, Mr Andrews," you say with mock indignation, "I'd have thought you'd recognise someone you raped and tried to murder!" The blood drains from his face as he recognises who you are. He steps back from Sandra shakily, his dick popping free and bobbing in the air disgustingly. "No," he says, voice trembling, "that's not possible." You look to the terrified Sandra and motion to the door with your head. "Get the fuck out," you growl, and she is out of the room within seconds. Andrews is trembling in front of you, pants around his ankles. You take a step forward and he attempts to rush to his desk, tripping on his pants in the process. You look down at him and laugh, moving over him as he curls up on the floor. He whimpers as you glare down your nose at him, covering his face with his hands. "I'm going to make you suffer as I did, you piece of shit." Two security guards burst into the room, no doubt alerted by Sandra as she fled. You recognise the men as the ones that held you in place as Andrews' injected you, and anger wells up in your gut. One of them rushes towards you, attempting to grab you. You leap up and back, landing on Andrews' desk. The wood splinters slightly under your feet as you land, but you pay it no mind as you kick at your first assailant. Your foot meets his jaw and he is sent flying through the office window and into the room outside. You turn to his companion who is reaching into his jacket. He draws his gun as you leap through the air, unable to raise it before your legs wrap around his neck. He drops the gun in surprise, hands coming up to claw at your thighs. You grab his head roughly and twist, making his neck rotate much further than it should. He crumples to a heap, unmoving. The guard you sent through the window rushes back into the room, but you drop low and uppercut him directly in the diaphragm. He tumbles to the floor with a moan, and you stomp down on his neck, making him go limp. You aren't sure if the two men are dead or not, but you honestly couldn't give a single shit if they are. You stomp on the one beneath your foot once more for good measure, then turn your attention back to the cowering Andrews. "Now then," you snarl, "where were we?" Andrews tries once again to scramble to his feet, but you grab him by the hair and yank him upright. He shouts out in pain, and you toss him over his desk casually. He cries out again as he lands on his desk chair behind the desk, the ornate wooden arm rests shattering under him. The chair tips over and sends the man sprawling onto the floor, splinters of wood sticking out of his naked legs. You jump over the desk and land next to Andrews, grabbing him by the throat and pulling him up again. You toss him back over the desk, this time with more force. You smile cruelly as a loud 'crack' is followed by a scream. You hop back over the desk and land on top of Andrews, pinning him to the floor beneath your foot. You kick him onto his back, and he looks up at you with a terrified face, covered with tears from his frightened eyes and blood from his broken nose. "Please, no more," he sobs, scratching feebly at your foot, "I'm sorry! Please, let me go!" He continues to grovel and beg for forgiveness, making your stomach turn over in revulsion. "Why should I show you any mercy?" "They made me," he splutters, "they said I had to get rid of you!" You press down on his chest hard enough to make a rib crack. "Did they also tell you to rape me? Hm?" Andrews screams and thrashes, blood bubbling out of his mouth. "They said to make you suffer! Please, have mercy!" "There's no mercy for evil cunts like you," you spit, taking your foot off his chest. Anger guides your foot as you slam it down on one of his legs, shattering the bones. Andrews screams in agony, writhing around in pain. You cruelly lift your leg to stomp on the other, but hesitate. As you look down at the broken man, a small lump forms in your throat. He's in a terrible state, barely recognisable. Blood is pouring from multiple wounds, soaking his clothes and the floor beneath him. He is breathing ragged, pained breaths, sobbing and snivelling. You turn to the two security guards. They're completely still, smears of blood covering their faces. You lower your foot to the ground gently. You don't feel very good. All desire for revenge is slowly leaving you, and you want to wash your hands of the situation. Bile wells up in your throat, but you swallow it down. Determined to use the last of your anger to finish this, you leap over to Andrews desk and pull open some of the drawers. You fish around in one and don't find anything interesting. Another one has a spare mobile phone and a bottle of opioids. One of them has a small stack of papers, seemingly some kind of dossier. One particular highlighted word catches your eye -(text-colour:orange)[(text-style:"underline")[Chronos]]- but you push the drawer shut without reading any further. It's in the last drawer that you find what you were looking for. There is a small silver case inside, and you pull it out and place it on the desk. You crush the latch with a talon, and the case falls open. Inside are three familiar syringes. One is empty, but the other two are filled with a green liquid that makes your skin crawl. You grab one of the filled syringes and toss it against the wall, watching as it shatters satisfyingly. The green liquid within soaks into the wall, unable to harm anyone ever again. The liquid in the other syringe, however, is about to be used for just that. You take the syringe in tentative fingers, then jump back over to where Andrews is. "Be glad, dickhead," you grunt, leaning down to put your face close to Andrews' own. He tries to move away from you, but barely manages to do anything except whine and shake. "I'm going to show you mercy, since all the violence is starting make me sick." His eyes fill with something akin to relief for a solitary moment, but it is quickly replaced with terror again as you lift the syringe up to show him. He cries and attempts to get away from you, but you roughly grab him by the head and sink the syringe into his neck. As soon as the last of the liquid within has been injected into the man, you toss the syringe aside disgustedly. Andrews starts bawling, defeated. You stand up and walk straight out of the office, unable to stomach being here any longer. You quickly fly back up the stairwell to the roof, then take off into the night, feeling unfortunately less happy with yourself than you had hoped when you first arrived. [[Some hours later.->DarianChoice2]](set:$foundChronos to true)

(set:$AndrewsTimeStop to true)You tuck into a roll as you land on the roof of the Aion Corp building, rolling over twice then hopping back onto your feet in a smooth motion. Barely ceasing your stride, you make your way over to the rooftop door. You look for a doorknob, frowning when you can't find it. "Oh, of course," you say to yourself, eyeing the lock, "it isn't meant to open from this side without the key." With a shrug you put your fist straight through the door, your scaled hand passing through the metal with ease. You reach in and grab the doorknob from the inside. It doesn't turn when you rattle it, so you tear it from the door with a huff. The lock and knob destroyed, the door swings open with a creak. Moonlight streams into the dark stairwell, illuminating it eerily. Not that you need it, your draconic eyes able to see well in the dark regardless. It doesn't take you very long to find the floor with Andrews' office. You leap down the stairwell quickly, jumping from one level to one several floors lower. The railings bend under the force of your landings, but you don't give a damn. Once you reach the right floor, you open the door quietly, poking your head out to see if there is anyone there. The floor is empty, not even any lights on except for the one coming from Andrews' office. You walk inside, making your way over to the door and listening intently. The tell tale moans and grunts of people fucking drift out from inside. Over the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh, you can hear Sandra moaning and Andrews grunting. "Yeah, bitch, take that fucking cock, slut," Andrew growls. A sharp slap rings out and Sandra yelps, babbling assorted slutty phrases in response. Having heard enough, you kick the door with all your strength, sending it flying into the far wall and detroying a bookcase. Sandra screams and Andrews shouts as the door crashes open. You stride inside and take in the scene before you. Sandra is bent over Andrews' desk, with the man himself standing behind her. They're both naked from the waist down, and Andrews has his cock buried inside Sandra's soaked cunt. "Who the fuck are you?" "I'm hurt, Mr Andrews," you say with mock indignation, "I'd have thought you'd recognise someone you raped and tried to murder!" The blood drains from his face as he recognises who you are. He steps back from Sandra shakily, his dick popping free and bobbing in the air disgustingly. "No," he says, voice trembling, "that's not possible." You look to the terrified Sandra and motion to the door with your head. "Get the fuck out," you growl, and she is out of the room within seconds. Andrews is trembling in front of you, pants around his ankles. You take a step forward and he attempts to rush to his desk, tripping on his pants in the process. You look down at him and laugh, moving over him as he curls up on the floor. He whimpers as you glare down your nose at him, covering his face with his hands. "I'm going to make you suffer as I did, you piece of shit." Two security guards burst into the room, no doubt alerted by Sandra as she fled. You recognise the men as the ones that held you in place as Andrews' injected you, and anger wells up in your gut. One of them rushes towards you, attempting to grab you. You leap up and back, landing on Andrews' desk. The wood splinters slightly under your feet as you land, but you pay it no mind as you kick at your first assailant. Your foot meets his jaw and he is sent flying through the office window and into the room outside. You turn to his companion who is reaching into his jacket. He draws his gun as you leap through the air, unable to raise it before your legs wrap around his neck. He drops the gun in surprise, hands coming up to claw at your thighs. You grab his head roughly and twist, making his neck rotate much further than it should. He crumples to a heap, unmoving. The guard you sent through the window rushes back into the room, but you drop low and uppercut him directly in the diaphragm. He tumbles to the floor with a moan, and you stomp down on his neck, making him go limp. You aren't sure if the two men are dead or not, but you honestly couldn't give a single shit if they are. You stomp on the one beneath your foot once more for good measure, then turn your attention back to the cowering Andrews. "Now then," you snarl, "where were-" You retch up a huge mouthful of something salty and thick. "The fuck?" You're lying face-down on the floor, arms tied behind your back. Confused, you tear through your arm bindings and wipe your mouth clean. Your eyes go wide in anger as you realise what the white gunk filling your mouth and throat is. You tilt your head up and see Andrews standing over you. He seems just as confused as you, but his cock is slowly becoming flaccid, cum dribbling from the end. "What's going on?" His question makes you burn angrily. "You piece of shit!" You leap from the ground towards Andrews, arms outstretched ready to- You're lying on your back on the floor, face slathered with jizz. You spit and flail, angrily using your scaled fingers to slop the disgusting goo off of you. "What the fuck is happening!?" You scrabble to your feet and snarl at the bewildered Andrews. "I don't know," he mumbles. Watery cum runs into your eye and you scream with rage. You jump towards Andrews again, aiming your claws towards his throat so you can- Your face is pressed awkwardly into the wood of Andrews' desk. You push yourself back, tumbling off of the desk and onto the floor. Horrible pain radiates from your pelvis, and you examine your bruised body. All the scales around your groin have been cruelly cracked and torn out. Blood is flowing from the tears all over your hips and groin, pooling on the floor to mix with the cum leaking from your injured, abused cunt. "No..." Tears pour from your eyes, obscuring your vision. "No no no no no no! NO!" You are in shock, heart hammering in your chest. You can't believe this is happening. You don't know what the fuck is going on, but the result is clear. Despite all your strength, Andrews raped you repeatedly. Again. A cruel, triumphant laugh erupts from behind you, but you're too stunned to turn around. "I don't really understand what's happening," he jeers, "but I must have acquired the Chronos Device at some point!" You don't have any idea what the fuck he is going on about, but his mirthful tone infuriates you enough to break you from your shock. "You fucking bastard!" You spin around and launch towards your abuser with- You're upside-down, back to the wall, bent over painfully. Semen drips from your broken asshole and lands on your eye, breaking your spirit. "Why...? There are barely even any tears from you now, nothing left inside you to cry. You're done. All you wanted was to get revenge for being raped, and you ended up being raped again. And again. And- You're kneeling at Andrews feet, cum dribbling from your mouth. Again. "No more... please..." Your voice is weak. Defeated. Empty. "Please..." Andrews laughs uproariously, gripping a fistful of your hair aggressively. He yanks your head up harshly, forcing you to look him in the eye. "You are going to be a wonderful little cock sleeve, bitch," he sneers, spitting into your face. You sob weakly, vainly trying to move your head away. "Thank me for not just killing you again, you stupid whore!" His hand impacts your face and snaps your head to the side painfully. You cry out as your face is battered and your hair twists. He laughs cruelly as he repeatedly slaps and punches you, making you cry once more. "Please... enough..." You can't put up any more resistance. Your soul has been as thoroughly abused as your body. Whatever strange power Andrews has is too much for you. You just want it to stop. Andrews grabs you by the chin and angles your face towards his erect cock. "You're going to apologise to me, bitch. Put that mouth to work nicely now, and I might not hit you again." You stare at his dick with disgust, bile welling in your throat. The hand in your hair twists, tearing a chunk of your hair out painfully. "I said suck, cunt!" Your tear filled eyes drift away from his crotch and to the wrist of the hand grabbing your chin. Something about his wrist watch seems to grab your attention, even over all the abuse you've taken. Even over all the abuse he continues to hurl at you. It seems... familiar in some way. It's almost like time... slows... as you stare at it. "I said, suck my fucking-!" Andrews starts screaming as your fangs tear through his wrist, destroying his watch and arm in equal measure. Blood floods into your mouth and spurts all over your face. The warm crimson liquid flows down your throat and soothes your weary skin. Almost as much as the sounds of Andrews wailing in agony soothes your ears. The half-naked man tumbles backwards, tripping over himself and falling onto the floor. He flails about, trying to get away from you. You get to your feet slowly, the blood on your skin starting to sizzle on your increasingly hot body. "What's going on?!" Andrews is squealing like a stuck pig, desperately trying to keep his tattered arm from falling off entirely. He is growing increasingly pale, blood pouring out of him rapidly. You silently stomp towards him, feet singeing the carpet wherever they land. Andrews screams and crawls away from you, only managing to get a few inches away from you before you're upon him. You grab him by the throat and yank him into the air with ease. His flesh begins to smoulder, drawing more pained gasps and wails. "Please, let me go! I promise I'll-" You grip his throat tighter, scales digging into his skin. He struggles to breathe, good hand batting helplessly at your own. Without saying a word, you raise your other hand and plunge it into his belly. Your talons sheer through him like a razor, bursting out of his back in a sanguine shower. Andrews thrashes and flails, but his movements start to get weaker and weaker. You withdraw your stained arm from the man and let him drop to the floor, hanging onto life by a frayed thread. Before his consciousness fades away for good, you squat down next to him and place your talons against his chest. "Burn in hell." You force your claws through his chest, crushing his ribs and tearing flesh. Your hand wraps around his softly beating heart and you pull it out of him. You raise the bloody lump to your mouth and take a huge bite from it. The meat is heaven on your tongue, and you gulp it down hungrily. You greedily devour the whole heart, smiling at the heat spreading throughout your gut. [["Burn."->TrueDragonTF]]

You inhale deeply, filling your burning lungs with oxygen. A furious roar erupts from within you, accompanied by a scorching gout of flame. Fire spews from your mouth as you cry out, searing everything in the room. Cloth bursts into flame, wood splinters and ignites, flesh bubbles and chars. You cease your fire-breathing for a moment, revelling in the incredible heat around you. Sprinklers overhead begin dousing the room with water as alarms begin blaring. With a snort, you unleash another torrent of flame upwards, the intense heat melting the sprinklers closed. You take another deep breath and then start blasting the roof with a concentrated jet of fire. Plasterboard, wood, cement, steel, and plastic all melt away, opening a hole in the roof to the floor above. Your fiery barrage not lessening, you begin flying upwards, burning holes in the roof of the floor above. As you pass through that hole, another opens above it. You hear screams and shouting as you fly higher and higher, flames burning more and more of the building. Higher and higher you climb, fiery assault clearing your path. Early morning sunlight meets you as you burst through the roof of the Aion Corporation building. You stop breathing fire, but do not slow your ascent, instead increasing your speed. You streak into the sky only stopping once ice begins forming and then melting again on your body. You fan your wings out, suspended in the air several kilometres from the ground. The sun's rays fill you with brilliant warmth. The warmth spreads through you, urging your body to change. Scales start to grow across the rest of your body, replacing your broken ones and encasing you in a crimson suit of mail. Your arms and legs start to bulk up, extending in length and growing stockier. Your tail grows longer, and your neck follows its lead. Your jaw grows wider and longer, your entire face stretching and morphing. The horns on your head explode in size, growing longer and thicker and sharper. Your torso and wingspan double in size, then triple, then quadruple. In moments you are casting a giant draconic shadow upon the earth below. You let out a world-quaking roar, your enraged cry echoing for kilometres. Far below, the earth rumbles and shudders, cowering in fear from you. You roll over in the air and look towards the burning Aion Corp building far below. Smoke pours out of shattered windows and billows from the roof in dark clouds. It isn't good enough. You angle yourself down, beginning your free fall towards the ground. Air races past you as you plummet, and flickering flames start to grow in your mouth. You extend your wings to slow your descent as you approach the building, still facing towards the ground. Once you're within range, you let loose your fiery blast, enveloping the building in flames. Glass windows explode, metal beams bend, screaming bodies go silent. You continue to breathe flames over the building as you get closer to the ground. Eventually you crash onto the city street below, crushing cars, people, and asphalt under your weight. Screams echo all around you, and you meet them with your own roar. Falling glass bounces across your back harmlessly, and you snort with derision as several of the tiny humans around you fire upon you with their guns. After a salvo of bullets crumple pathetically against your scales, you roar again and slam your giant tail into the side of the Aion Corp building, causing an entire chunk of the building to collapse. The building starts to creak, tilting dangerously. Satisfied, you launch back into the sky, tossing people and vehicles aside with your mighty wing beats. The Aion Corp building starts to topple over as you fly higher, crashing into the surrounding buildings. You roar once again as you fly away over the city, towards the horizon. [[Somewhere nearby...->TrueDragonEnd]]

Darian chuckles to himself as he watches the enormous beast fly away from the burning city, smiling as the city's skyline loses a few spires. The chaos is loud enough for him to hear from even this distance, and the smoke billows high into the sky. He runs his hands through the grass beneath him, leaning back onto the hill to watch the insanity unfold for a little longer. "I must say, this is not an outcome I expected," he mutters to himself, stroking his beard, "but I cannot say that I am disappointed with the result." He stands up slowly, brushing a few stray blades of grass from his pants. "I hope that we will meet again, Taylor," he says towards the horizon, knowing full well that the dragon couldn't possibly hear him. The man takes his knife and makes a small cut on his finger, tossing the drop of blood that bubbles out onto the ground. An archway of vines bursts from the ground. He looks through the archway to see a smoky, neon-lit room on the otherside. A busty woman wearing a dress three sizes too small for her is seated on a large pink couch, saying something Darian can't make out as she pushes the head of the boy at her knees into her crotch. She looks up and meets the man's eye, seeing through the portal that is invisible to the average human. She flaps her hand excitedly, waving him in. She points to a naked young woman draped across another couch in the room, giving him a knowing eyebrow wiggle. "Never change, Natasha," Darian chuckles, turning to move through the archway portal. He pauses momentarily, looking wistfully towards the sunrise. "I wonder, Taylor; have you slaked your thirst for revenge?" He looks to the burning city and then back to the horizon. "Or has your campaign for vengeance only just begun?" ***ENDING: Blazing Vengeance***(set:$dragon to true)(set:$ED09 to true) [[Restart->Intro]] |cloaked>[ [[XENOS File Added: #372466->Dragon]] ]

**XENOS File Access Granted** **(text-colour:orange)[XENOS #372466: The Nemesis Dragon]** Threat Type: Physical Hazard Effective Threat Level: Extreme XENOS #372466, also identified as "The Nemesis Dragon", is a dragon that recently appeared at an Aion Corporation building. It has been seen frequently attacking Aion Corporation build sites and operations, and then retreating to an unknown location. It is believed to be targeting Aion Corporation exclusively. The Dragon has crimson scales and black talons. It is approximately |translate>[(cycling-link: "17 metres", "55 feet")] long from head to tail, with a wingspan of approximately |translate>[(cycling-link: "9 metres", "30 feet")]. It is estimated to weigh over |translate>[(cycling-link: "45 metric tonnes", "49 tons")], though estimates may be innacurate without knowing the structural make-up of the subject. The Dragon has the ability to release jets of flame from its mouth that can exceed temperatures of |translate>[(cycling-link: "2200°C", "4000°F")]. Should the Dragon be sighted, all personnel must evacuate the area immediately. No known weapons have proven effective in injuring the Dragon, and attempts to deter it have ended in catastrophic failure. The Dragon's hide, talons, blood, and organs may prove to be extremely effective for arms manufacturing, should samples be procured. Research is being conducted into locating the Dragon's nest or other such retreat, however all current searches have come up inconclusive. (if:$cheat is true)[|cloaked>[ [[Back to Cheat Menu->Cheat]] ] ][[Access New File->SecretDatabase]] [[Leave Database->Intro]]

Watching the bird on the windowsill calms you a little. You smile as the small blue creature pecks at the flowers in the pot, pulling off some of the colourful petals. It gathers up a few of them and then flies away, no doubt going to decorate its nest with its recent acquisitions. Darian hands you a mug of coffee and you take it with a thankful smile. He sits down across from you silently, letting you dwell on your thoughts quietly a little longer. You take a few large gulps of the coffee. Despite how hot the coffee is, it doesn't burn your mouth. The heat is actually quite comforting. You think back to a few hours ago at the Aion Corp office. You don't really know what came over you. You've been angry before, sure, but you've never been so fuelled by rage before. You were never a very violent person, and yet you just killed at least one person, if not three. And it felt *good*. At least until you started to come down from the high, you felt wonderful while you were inflicting terrible pain on your rapists. Not that they didn't deserve it. Some part of you still feels as though they didn't suffer enough. You just... don't like how you acted. You could have just killed them and been done with it. You didn't need to be so ruthless. So brutal. So cruel. "Are you alright, Taylor?" Darian's voice pulls you from your thoughts with a start. "Oh, uh," you snort and take another sip from your coffee, "sorry. Yeah. Just- just trying to get my thoughts in order." "May I ask what troubles you?" You put your cup down and sigh, rubbing your eyes and leaning back into your chair. "I don't like how I acted," you say, looking into the air. Darian stays silent, and you think for a moment before speaking again. "I got my revenge, Darian. I made Andrews suffer for what he did. I got those two bodyguards of his too. They all suffered for hurting me!" The table creaks and grabs your attention. Without realising it, you had grabbed the side of the table and cracked part of it under your grip. "Sorry," you chuckle sheepishly. "It's fine," Darian laughs softly, "please, continue." You release the table and sit back again before continuing. "I made Andrews suffer. And I wanted to make him suffer more. It felt good to make him suffer." You lean forward and frown. "But then the rush ended, and I took stock of what I'd done. I was disgusted. I *am* disgusted. That..." You go silent. The roiling in your gut returns again, and you take a sip of coffee to try and calm yourself. "Is that who I am now, Darian? Someone who takes pleasure in violence? I don't want to be that person." Darian nods thoughtfully, taking a sip from his own drink. "I wish I could give you answers, Taylor," he says, placing his cup down, "alas, I cannot. I can offer some advice though." He sits up and looks across the table at you. "When I was very young, I became aware of my power. I felt stronger than everyone around me, and took what I wanted without regard for others. I did many things that I look back on with disgust." The man looks away for a moment, a wry smile crossing his face. "It was only after many, many years that I began to reflect on my actions. I spent a very long time deciding who I wanted to be, and even longer becoming that person. 'Darian' is not who I was born as; he is who I chose to be." He smiles at you and you feel a bit soothed. "You have achieved in a few hours what I did not in centuries: self-reflection." He takes another sip from his drink before continuing. "Use this reflection to decide who you want to be. It will take time, but you have already started the journey." You nod, taking in his words. "You may always regret your actions last night," he says, "but you can ensure that they are never repeated, if that is what you wish." The two of you sit in silence for a while, occasionally sipping your drinks. You have a lot to think about. Darian's words resonate with you. He's right. Deciding who you want to be is a journey, and it will take time. He's also apparently *way* older than he appears, if he was telling the truth. Darian clears his throat politely, sitting up in his seat again. "I apologise for changing the subject, but there is a reason I wanted to speak with you." "Of course," you say, "what did you need?" "As I told you earlier," he begins, looking you in the eye, "I did not help you solely out of the goodness of my heart. I believed that you could help me in a few different ways." "I owe you my life, Darian," you say earnestly, "I am happy to help in any way I can." The man nods, smiling. "Well then I will cut to the chase. There are two ways that you could help me; one being a far greater commitment than the other." Intrigued in hearing how you could assist your saviour, you sit up and listen intently. "The first, most simple way you can help me is by donating some of your blood. No more than you would donate to a blood bank. As you may have gathered, blood is a very potent magical reagent, and yours intrigues me very much." "That certainly sounds reasonable enough," you say, taking another sip from your drink, "but I'd like to hear the other option before I make any decisions." "I'd like you to bear my child." You nearly choke on your coffee, spraying the lukewarm liquid all over the table. "What?" You sputter and cough, and Darian has a smirk on his face as he hands you a napkin. "I would like you to bear my child," he says plainly, as if it were a very normal thing to ask someone. Seeing your incredulous look, he elaborates. "I would like to have a child. Someone to teach my magic and learn from in equal measure. Someone that I can pass down my knowledge to, and who will be my legacy." He looks aside wistfully, a brief moment of sadness crossing his face. "Due to... circumstances... I cannot sire children with most women. My body is quite different than most, and I am... incompatible with average humans." He looks back to you. "Your body was magically enhanced even before your transformation," he explains, "I believe that with your body further magically enhanced by my magic, you may just be able to bear my child successfully." You look at the man with some suspicion, understandably wary. True, he has yet to lie to you to your knowledge, but such a request is a little suspect to say the least. "Look, this isn't just some elaborate trick to try and get into my pants, right? I mean, metaphorically. I'm not actually wearing any right now." Darian laughs uproariously, slapping his thigh. His genuine laugh has you laughing along as well, the mirth very welcome after the previous day's events. "No, no," he chuckles, wiping a tear from his eye, "you are very attractive, Taylor, don't get me wrong. But that's not it." He takes a few breaths, occasionally snickering. "No, if I wanted merely to sleep with you, I would have just asked," he says, and you feel as though he is being truthful, "I am not in the habit of lying. While I will not say sex with you is unappealing in its own right, I truly do wish for a child." You let out a big breath, unsure what to choose. Darian isn't unattractive, and you can't say you're turned off by the idea of sex with him either. That said, you aren't sure having a child is something you want right now. Your life is in a major state of flux, and possible pregnancy might be something you can't handle. There's also the matter of your recent violation. Some part of you is repulsed by the very idea of sex right now because of it. You aren't sure if you could go through with it even if you wanted to. And yet there is another part of you that is secretly a little aroused at the thought of making a child. Not even just the act of sex itself, but specifically breeding. Perhaps taking Darian up on his offer would let you fulfill this urge, and let you take back agency in your life by having sex on your own terms again. It's a lot to take in. "Do not worry about offending me with your decision, Taylor," Darian says gently, "it is a very selfish request for me to make, and I do not wish to push you into anything you do not wish to do." You think for a moment, before giving Darian your answer. [["The most I can give you is my blood."->AverageDragonEnd]] [["Shall we get started then?"->DarianDragonSex]]

You push Darian back against the wall aggressively, pulling off his vest as you kiss him passionately. He seems to understand instinctively that you want to be in charge here, and admirably lets himself be pushed and pulled around as you remove his clothes and kiss him all over. Deciding that being on your toes to kiss him is too uncomfortable, you break your embrace and push him back onto his bed. With a smirk, he falls back into the mattress, staying exactly where he fell until you tell him to sit up on the edge. You lustfully drop to your knees in front of him, tugging his half-removed pants the rest of the way down. His cock bobs out in front of you, already semi-erect and quickly growing harder. You move to grab his member but stop momentarily, taking a second to retract your talons and scales first. You take his hardening rod in your hand and he sighs with pleasure. "Your hand is wonderfully warm," he says, eyes closed. "Wait 'til you feel this," you quip, before lowering your mouth and enveloping his cock entirely. Darian lets out a loud moan, and you feel proud to have made this normally somewhat aloof man let out such a slutty sound. Darian's dick is completely hard now, and you push your mouth further down his shaft. You find it quite easy to get it down your throat, despite it being slightly bigger than average. You make short movements, head bobbing up and down in his lap while your tongue swirls around the shaft. Each moan you draw from Darian stokes the fire in your groin a little more, and soon you find your scales retracting on their own to bare your now dripping pussy to the open air. You pull off of Darian's cock with one last vaccum-sealed suck, watching gleefully as the spit-slick member throbs needily. His dick steams as the saliva evaporates. "Guess my body's even warmer than I thought, huh?" Darian meets your eyes as you look up at him, laughing. "Let's just say that was hot in multiple meanings of the word!" You laugh along with him as you get to your feet, then tell him to get comfortable on the bed. He shuffles back and lies down flat in the centre of the matress, waiting for your next instruction. You feel so in control telling this powerful, much older man what to do. Your cunt throbs, aching to be touched, and you have no intention of denying it any longer. You climb up over Darian and straddle his face, dripping sex just inches from his mouth. "Hope you like hot food," you snicker, before planting yourself on his mouth. Now it's your turn to moan, as Darian immediately starts licking your cunt with wild abandon. He's good at it too, tongue and lips flicking and sucking in all manner of ways until you're a panting mess. After only a few minutes, you find yourself squeezing the headboard so tightly it starts cracking under your re-clawed fingers, vocalising your pleasure loudly. "I need you now!" You practically leap off of Darian's face and slide back down his body. His cock is still erect and waiting for you, so you waste no time impaling yourself on his shaft. Darian moans lewdly as you hilt him inside you. You scream like a banshee, clenching hard around him as you cum violently. Even before your orgasm has finished, you are bouncing yourself atop your lover manically. He has his eyes closed as you bounce, clearly loving this as much as you are. You lean back and ride him without a care in the world, never wanting this feeling to end. Each rise and fall on his shaft draws louder and louder moans from the both of you. After several wonderful minutes of riding Darian aggressively, you slow yourself for a moment and lean forward, placing your clawed hands on his chest for support. "Sorry in advance if I scratch you," you mutter, gyrating your hips slowly. "You'll find I'm quite resilient," Darian smirks, eyes glinting mischevously, "don't worry about hurting me." Taking it as a challenge, you grab hold of his shoulders tightly and use your new position to drive yourself as far down on his cock as possible. You slam your hips down wildly, the two of you soon returned to your feverish fucking fugue. Even as Darian's cock twitches and bursts inside you, you don't stop bouncing atop him. Each blast of warm cum inside you makes you shiver gloriously, as though a deep itching in your soul was being soothed by his load. You soon find yourself cumming as his orgasm wanes, a combination of sexual pleasure and a sense of fulfilment mixing together to create an incredible high. You finally cease your onslaught on Darian's cock and drop onto his chest, exhausted. You can hear his heart beating rapidly, and his breath is just as ragged as your own. "Fuck, that was good," you sigh, letting your eyes drift closed. Darian's arms wrap around you, warming your already searing body up even more. "That it was," he wheezes, clearly more exhausted than he is letting on. "I definitely got pregnant," you yawn, snuggling into your lover's chest further, "I could feel it. I know it..." "I'm glad," Darian sighs, his heart starting to beat more calmly. "I dunno what all this means for us," you whisper to him, hugging him a little tighter, "are we like, a couple now, or do we keep it casual, or what?" "Let us talk of such matters later," he says, stroking your hair soothingly, "for now, let us rest." "Good plan," you yawn, melting into his arms. The two of you drift off in each other's embrace, basking in the midday sun streaming in through the window. You can think about [[the future->DragonMother]] later.

"I understand completely," Darian says, smiling gently and nodding. You're sure there is a part of him that is disappointed, but he doesn't show it. Quite the contrary. He stands up and offers you another cup of coffee, taking your cup from you. You tell him that you would like that very much, and he sets about making more drinks for the two of you. He asks you questions as he works, wondering what you plan to do now. You tell him that you haven't really thought that far ahead yet. You say you'll have to find a new place to live, and a new job, and a whole bunch of things. You aren't really sure where to start, but Darian tells you you are welcome to stay in his guest room for as long as you need to get back on your feet. You thank him earnestly, and the two of you spend the rest of the day chatting about all sorts of different topics. One thing you discuss is that your tail and wings will probably get in the way of you getting a job, since they aren't exactly easy to miss. He laughs, but tells you he may have a way to help you. --- Three weeks later you are standing in Darian's backyard as he finishes writing something in his notebook. "Alright, I've done some more testing with your blood, and I think this will be a bit more effective than yesterday's," he says, handing you the notebook. You take the book and silently read the magical chant written on the page. Darian takes the book back and steps back from you, watching you intently. You take a deep breath and practice what Darian taught you. You first let all of your scales retract, thankful for your customised singlet and skirt to hide your nakedness. Then you focus on your horns until they retract. Once all your scales and horns are hidden, you focus your mind on the 'spark' in your heart that Darian told you about. You remember his words well, having practiced many times over the last few weeks. "Everyone has a spark inside them, even the most magically mundane. With enough practice, anyone can learn to manipulate it. Control that spark, you control your being." It is really easy for you to focus on your 'spark'. The well of magical energy inside you is extremely vast. Finding your 'spark' is like finding a bowling ball in an egg carton; you'd have to be trying to not see it. Once you've focused all your energy on your spark, you speak the magical words you memorised just before. As you talk, you imagine your wings and tail absorbing back into your body the way your scales do. Focus. Focus. Focus. You are jolted back to reality as your wings and tail zip inside your body suddenly. It takes you a moment to understand what just happened, but when you do, you jump up and down with glee. "It worked!" Darian applauds you, and you rush over to him. "Thank you so much, thank you! I can't believe it-" You almost fall backwards as your wings and tail snap back into place, throwing your centre of balance way out of whack. Darian grabs your hand as you flail, wincing slightly as your scales and talons slide back into place and stab his hand. "What? No!" You feel devastated. You were so close! You apologise to Darian as he rubs his hand. "Don't worry about it," he says, waving away your apologies, "it will heal in a moment." You sulkily drop down onto the grass, sighing loudly. "I almost had it that time," you groan, poking at a bug with your taloned hand. "No, you had it," Darian says, "just because it didn't last very long, doesn't mean you were unsuccessful. You achieved your goal." You look up at him with a pout. "But it barely lasted ten seconds! Not exactly very helpful." "Think of it this way," Darian says, reaching down to help you to your feet, "now that you've done it once, you know it is possible. One is not born standing; it takes practice before they can walk." He has a point, but you still feel a little disheartened. "I guess," you say, "guess I'll just have to practice." "Practice makes perfect," he chuckles, "but I believe in you. I'd wager you'll be able to hold it indefinitely within the fortnight. Better yet, I think you can do it without even having to say the incantation within two months." "Without the incantation? I thought that was what made it possible to begin with." Darian shakes his head. "The incantation is akin to training wheels. It is there to channel magic and keep you from 'falling down' while casting, in a sense. Once it becomes second nature, you can do most magic without saying a word." Seemingly enjoying teaching you, he wipes some of the blood from his hand and silently flicks it towards the ground. As soon as the droplet hits the ground, his signature archway of vines bursts forth. "I tend to chant when making portals out of habit," he says, "because routine makes magic more effective. Form habits when casting and you'll find it gets easier and easier to do." Feeling emboldened by his lesson and his confidence in you, you decide to start practicing again. You tell him you'll be holding your human form indefinitely before the week is out. He smiles broadly and says he can't wait to see the results of your training. It isn't until many years later, as you introduce your future spouse to Darian, that you realise this was the day he got the daughter he wanted. Even if it wasn't in the form either of you had expected. ***ENDING: The Blood of the Covenant is Thicker***(set:$ED07 to true) [[Restart->Intro]] |cloaked>[ [[Many years later, Darian receives unwanted visitors...->DarianTwinEP]] ]

You are tapping away absently at your keyboard early on a Monday morning. You stifle a yawn and take another sip from your coffee, trying to get your mind into gear. "Hey, Jack." Your co-worker that sits in the cubicle next to you taps your shoulder to grab your attention. "What's up?" "The elevator," he says, motioning across the room to the open elevator, "it hasn't closed for about a minute now." You stare at the elevator a little more closely. "Strange," you murmur. That's when you notice why the elevator isn't closing: there is a high heel sitting in the door frame. "Looks like someone just lost their shoe," you chuckle, hopping up. You walk over to the elevator to grab the high heel and return it to its owner. "I wonder who would have not noticed their shoe falli- WHAT THE FUCK!?" Your shout grabs the attention of everyone on the floor. "Someone call a doctor!" You rush into the elevator and drop down to your knees. Inside, slumped against the wall, is a woman. Blood is dripping from her covered face and staining her white blouse. Her black hair is hanging unkempt over her face, and you tentatively push it back. "Are you alright, Miss?" The woman's hazel eyes are open but vacant. They are staring blankly ahead, blood leaking from her eyes like tears. Her skin looks like it is usually brown in hue, but it is currently grey and sickly. The woman isn't breathing, and blood is dripping out of her nose and mouth slowly. There is murmuring from the people who have gathered around the elevator. "Is she breathing?" "What happened to her?" "You think this is a test of that (text-colour:orange)[(text-style:"underline")[Asclepius]] thing that went wrong?" "How terrible..." You can't really hear what they are saying, eyes locked on those of the woman in front of you as they stare deep into your soul. You reach down and grab her ID badge. It's covered with blood, and you wipe away some of it with your thumb. "Taylor..." you murmur, looking back into the woman's cold eyes, "I'm sorry..." Taylor is dead. ***ENDING: Not all that Glitters is Gold***(set:$foundPoison to true)(set:$ED04 to true) [[Restart->Intro]]

You slow yourself down as you approach Darian's house, getting ready to land. You drop onto the grass with a 'thud', feet sinking into the wet earth slightly. "Oh man," you groan, shaking your clawed feet, "I hate the feeling of mud in my talons." "My apologies. I just finished watering the lawn." You smile broadly as Darian makes his way towards you. You move up to meet him and embrace him, hugging him tightly. "It's been a while, Darian," you say, nuzzling his chest. "Too long, Taylor," he replies, strong hands gripping your shoulders. You step back from Darian and look up at him happily. He hasn't changed a bit, still as bald as ever with that perfectly groomed beard. You are starting to wonder if any part of his body ever changes. "Mummy!" The young girl's voice grabs your attention, and you see the reddish blur rushing towards you. "Tissa!" You squat down and brace for impact, lifting the girl into the air as she barrels into you. The two of you laugh, and you twirl your daughter about as you hug her close. "It's so good to see you, honey," you grin as you place the girl down, "let me see how much you've grown since I last visited!" Tissa smiles a wide, gap-toothed smile and does a spin before striking a pose. The eight year old is roughly |translate>[(cycling-link: "128cm", "4 feet")] tall, with two wings roughly the size of her torso held out behind her back proudly. She is somewhat propped up by her tail, the dark red scales flecked with mud. Her light red dress reaches down to her shins, stained with mud along the hem. There are holes in the back to allow her wings and tail to slip through, though they look as though they may be getting a little small. To be expected on a growing girl, you suppose. Tissa's skin is ever-so-slightly darker than your own, more akin to her father's. Her hands and feet are not as scaled as yours, and lack the large black talons that yours do. There are signs of scales growing along her arms though, and you have no doubt they will grow in completely before long. Her eyes are exactly like your own, wide and glowing orange, full of energy. Her fangs are still growing in, her mouth currently filled with an odd assortment of fangs and baby teeth, giving her a lopsided grin. Her wild orange-red hair is held behind her with a hair tie, though to little effect. Spiky strands are spilling out around her shoulders, and some are caught on her small black horns. You smile warmly as you reach down and tuck a few stray hairs behind her ear, leaning down to give her a kiss on the forehead when you're finished. "You've grown so much!" Tissa beams with pride, blushing under your praise. You take her hand and turn to Darian. "If it's alright with you, we might go play in our secret garden," you say. Darian smiles and nods. "Of course, you two have fun," he replies, turning his attention to Tissa, "do behave, young lady." Tissa snickers, but agrees to be good. "We'll be back before dark," you tell Darian, "I was hoping to catch up with you a bit later too, if you've the time." "You're welcome to stay as long as you like," he says warmly, "I will see you two girls later. Stay safe." You both tell him you will as he turns to head back inside. "Ready?" You lift your daughter up and hold her close to your chest. You give her a sly smirk as you crouch down, and she laughs giddily as you launch the both of you into the air. You start flying over the trees and towards your favourite clearing, making sure to do many flips and swirls in the air to impress your daughter. "Mummy, I can fly a bit too now!" You can only just hear your passenger's voice as the wind rushes past you, but you start to slow down your flight. "Really? Do you want to fly alongside me the rest of the way then?" Tissa nods eagerly, and you slow down as much as possible. You hold onto her hand, and then release her from your chest, letting her roll over in the air and start gliding next to you. "Amazing!" You continue to praise your daughter and give her gliding tips as the two of you travel to your destination. You're exceptionally proud of how much she has grown since you saw her last, and you make sure to ask her lots of questions about how she has been. "Alright, time to slow down," you tell Tissa, pointing out your destination. The two of you begin your descent, and Tissa releases your hand as you get closer to the ground. You watch with parental worry as she shakily lands in the clearing, body moving too quickly for her legs to properly catch up. She stumbles forwards and bumps headfirst into a tree, and you click your tongue and sigh. "Stupid tree! I hate you!" Tissa is clearly unharmed by her collision, as she is stamping her foot furiously and shouting at the tree. You stifle a smirk as you make your way towards her, but are shocked when you see her suddenly stop shouting and stand very still. "I'll teach you," she growls, hands outstretched at the tree. Your brow furrows as you watch the display. "What are-" Your eyes widen in surprise as the bark near the base of the tree starts to turn a sickly white, slowly spreading. The bark begins to flake off, turning to dust as it hits the ground. "Tissa that's enough!" Tissa is shocked from her trance by your interjection, confusedly looking around. You swiftly close the gap between the two of you and kneel down to look her in the eyes. "What are you doing?" Tissa is quiet, unable to meet your gaze. "I was making the tree hurt," she mumbles in the telltale tone of a child caught misbehaving. Horrible visions of blood and pain flash through your mind, and you blanch momentarily. "Tissa," you start, trying to keep your voice from wavering, "why were you hurting the tree?" She looks to your eyes then away again before answering. "Because it hurt me," she whispers, still not looking at you, "and I wanted it to feel hurt like it made me hurt." The sound of cracking bones and pleading rings in your ears. "Look at me, Tissa." With some reluctance, Tissa meets your gaze. Behind the eyes of a scolded child, you see the furious eyes of one wronged. You swallow the lump in your throat and place your hands on Tissa's shoulders. "Listen to me carefully, Tissa," you say softly, "we shouldn't lash out at things when we are angry." Tears are forming in your eyes, and your daughter seems taken aback. "A long time ago, I was very angry at something," you start, wiping your eyes, "and because I was angry, I did something very, very bad. Something that I still regret to this day." Tissa is crying as well now, and you pull her into a hug. "You're a good girl, Tissa," you sniff, "I don't want you to do bad things like your mother did." "I'm sorry, mummy," your daughter cries, gripping you tightly, "I won't do it again." "You're a good girl, Tissa." You spend a few moments crying with your daughter, comforting her and being comforted in kind. --- "Oh, oh, I can also do something even cooler than that!" Tissa leaps from the giant leaf she grew and lands on the forest floor proudly. You smile and urge her to show you as the leaf shrinks back to its normal size, no longer under Tissa's influence. "It's pretty awesome, so watch closely," she brags, and you assure her you are watching. She takes several deep breaths, psyching herself up for her next performance. You'd both spent the last few hours playing, and Tissa had taken every opportunity to show you all the cool tricks she had learned. You are very impressed with her skill. Most of the things she can do are simplistic versions of things Darian has shown you in the past: growing plants, calling to animals, even making a wilted flower bloom. Basic magic, but exceptional for one so young. She certainly has her father's natural aptitude for magic. With one last giant breath in, Tissa stretches out wide and then leans forward and exhales. You are awestruck as a gout of flame erupts from the girl's mouth, enveloping the bark of a nearby tree. You are about to leap to your feet to extinguish the flame, but it quickly snuffs itself. Where the flame met the wood, an assortment of colourful flowers are blossoming. "That's amazing!" You are genuinely in shock at the girl's talent. Tissa preens as you shower her with compliments. "That's incredible, Tissa," you exclaim, rushing over to her and giving her a hug, "how long have you been able to do that?" "Only for a few weeks," she says, chest puffed out pridefully. "What did your father say about it?" Tissa beams, somehow growing even more proud of herself. "Daddy said it was something he's never seen before. He said that one day I'll be able to use it for even more powerful magic than him!" You nod along, amazed. Darian isn't one for exaggerations, so if he is impressed by this, you have no doubt of your daughter's incredible power. It seems obvious that a dragon girl would be able to breathe fire, but it's something you've never been able to do. And for that fire to spark the growth of new life? Simply mind blowing. Tissa sneezes, and you look up to the sky. It's starting to get dark, the sky a brilliant mix of reds and yellows as the sun sets. "I think it's time we head home," you tell the girl in your arms, "time for some dinner, and I want to chat with your father before I go home." Tissa nods cheerily, and you launch the two of you into the air to start the [[the flight home->DragonMotherEnd]].

"I was surprised to say the least," you chuckle, sipping from your wine. "She's an extraordinary girl," Darian says, sipping from his mug, "I was being truthful when I said one day she will be even more powerful than me." You nod, smiling happily. "I'm one proud mother," you say, snuggling a little closer to him on the couch. He puts an arm around you lovingly, careful not to bump your drink. "And how have you been, Taylor?" "Busy," you laugh, rubbing the back of your neck, "I got a new job a couple months ago, and it's just far enough away from home for the flights to get tiring." Darian laughs along with you, his deep laugh rumbling through your whole body. "It's a good job though," you say, taking another sip of wine, "it's a security job at a place called Kumonosu Inn." "Ah, for Madame Rosa, yes?" "You know her?" "We have met a few times over the years," Darian explains, "she is very powerful. A very secretive woman, but I do not feel she is dangerous. We all have our secrets after all." "She certainly makes me feel welcome," you say, "I'm glad to have found her. Kumonosu was like a new world to me when I first arrived, but I've never felt more at home." The two of you sit in silence for a while, casually sipping from your drinks. It's been a while since the two of you got to meet up like this, and it's nice to just sit in the other's presence. You finish your wine and lean forward to put the glass on the table. Darian finishes his drink not long after, pulling you into a tighter hug after putting his mug down. "Has it been what you hoped for?" "What do you mean?" You shift in Darian's arms and look up at him. "I mean having Tissa," you say, "has having a child been all you wanted it to be?" Darian thinks for a moment, running his hand through your hair idly. "Yes, it has been. It isn't exactly what I imagined, but nothing ever is. Still, I am glad. I have learned as much from Tissa as she has from me. To see my knowledge being used by someone else in novel ways is gratifying." He chuckles. "And I have enjoyed spending time with Tissa as her father too. There is much joy to be had in seeing her happy." You smile and wrap your arms around Darian. "I'm glad." "I would be interested to see how Tissa would compare to potential siblings, I must admit." "Unfortunately, she isn't going to be getting any brothers or sisters from me," you laugh. "Indeed," Darian laughs, "I would not ask you to put the burden of such a difficult pregnancy on yourself ever again." You smile somewhat wistfully, your voice becoming more serious. "It was tough, but I would do it again if I could," you say softly, "but I don't think it is possible. I've done some research. Asked questions of other demi-humans." You pull back and look up at Darian. He looks down at you with concern. "Apparently most dragon women only ever have a single child in their whole life," you explain, shrugging, "so Tissa will more than likely be my only biological child." Darian's eyes have a hint of sadness to them, tinged with worry. "Do you regret it?" You raise an eyebrow in question. "Do you regret spending your only chance at having children with me?" You smile cheekily at the man. "I could ask the same of you, Mr Incompatible." You both chuckle, falling back into a hug. "No, I don't," Darian says. "Neither do I. I love Tissa more than anything." Silence fills the room again, and you look out the window. The moon is starting to get higher in the sky now, and you'd guess it's getting to be about eight in the evening. "On the subject of making children," Darian chuckles, letting his rare joking side come out, "would you like to spend the night?" His fingers run over the nape of your neck, sending tingles up your spine. "I can't say I'm not tempted," you purr sultrily, pawing at Darian's crotch playfully, "but unfortunately I can't tonight." You pull away from Darian and hop to your feet. "Mireille has some plans for us with some of her friends later this evening." Darian nods in understanding, getting to his feet. The two of you make your way to the front door, talking as you go. "I'll have to come past and spend the night soon though," you say as you both reach the front door, "I've quite missed feeling you churn me up inside." You give him a salacious wink, and he chuckles. He opens the door for you and you step out into the cool night air. "Actually, you may have to come visit Mireille and I some time," you say as you let your wings unfurl, "I've told Mireille about you a few times now, and she's *very* interested in meeting you." You nudge him with your elbow, and he laughs yet again. "You and your wife sound very much alike," he jokes, leaning down to give you a kiss goodbye. You meet his lips with your own, giving him a passionate farewell. "I'll see you later, Darian," you say, warming up your wings for the flight home with light flaps, "I want to try and visit Tissa more often now that I have a stable job." You throw him one last cheeky wink. "And you of course." "You are always welcome here, Taylor," Darian says, extending his arms in welcome, "my home is always open to you as the mother of my child." This time it's Darian's turn to give a sly wink, an action that is quite rare for the man. "And my bed is always open to you as a woman. Or your wife." You both laugh and share one last farewell kiss before you take off into the night sky. Knowing that your daughter is in the care of such a capable father puts you at ease. She's safe, loved, and has a bright future ahead of her. What more could a mother ask for? ***ENDING: Mother of a Dragon***(set:$ED08 to true) [[Restart->Intro]] |cloaked>[ [[Side Story: Familial Bonding->DragonIncestEp1]] ]

###Familial Bonding (set:$DX2 to true)"You sit down while I grab us some drinks," your mother says, pointing to her dining table, "what would you like?" "Honestly, just some water for now please, mum," you say dropping to a chair with a sigh, "I'm really thirsty since I've been holding this form all day." You gesture vaguely to yourself, taking a moment to unbutton the top few buttons of your blouse. You fan yourself with your hand as your mother places a glass of water in front of you, her talons clinking against the glass. "I know how exhausting it must be for you to stay like that for so long, honey," she says, sitting across from you with her own glass of water, "but you feel free to drop it for as long as you're here. This is a safe place for you after all, Tissa." You smile gratefully and gulp down the entire glass of water in a few quick gulps. "Thanks, mum, but I still feel a little weird about doing that. I know you've said Mireille won't mind, but I'm so used to hiding myself around humans that-" "What is it that I won't mind?" The musical, Slavic voice from behind you surprises you, and you turn to see who just walked in the front door. If you had still been holding your glass as you turned, you're sure it would have hit the floor after you dropped it in shock. Not as quickly as your jaw does though. In the doorway is the most beautiful woman you've ever seen. She is taller than you and your mother, standing around |translate>[(cycling-link: "178cm", "5'10")]. She has silky, platinum blonde hair parted directly down the center, flowing down either side of her face and onto to her shoulders. Her eyes are a brilliant, piercing blue, shining like gemstones set into her soft, pale face. She is wearing a white turtle neck that accentuates all her curves. Her breasts are huge, at least as big as your head, and they rise and fall with her breaths. She is quite plump around the middle, and her thick thighs and wide hips make her look like some kind of fertility goddess. You are smitten. Everything about this woman is amazing, and it takes all your effort to realise you've been staring slack jawed for nearly a minute. "Tissa, this is Mireille," your mother says, and Mireille smiles at you warmly. Your heart skips a beat as she flashes her perfect teeth at you, but you manage to stammer out a bumbling hello. "Oh, darling, you must be Tissa!" Mireille strides over to you and pulls you into a big hug. Every nerve in your body is on fire with joy, and you're pretty sure you immediately soak your panties as your face is mashed into those wonderful boobs. "I have heard so much about you, darling! I am so happy to finally meet you!" Mireille's accent is quite heavy, and takes you a few seconds to parse, but you soon get the hang of it. You've never personally met someone with such a heavy Slavic accent, so it is going to take some getting used to. "Oh, you really are just as beautiful as your |translate>[(cycling-link: "matka", "mother")] told me!" Mireille doesn't stop crushing you in her arms as she talks, but you're pretty sure suffocating in her bosom is probably the best way you could go out. "Let the girl breathe, Mir," your mother chuckles, and you feel the wonderfully plump arms lessen their grip. "Sorry, darling," Mireille titters, "I have just been so excited to be seeing you!" She steps back and lets you gather your wits for a moment. "No, it's fine," you laugh, brain still fried from being manhandled by this marvellous lady. "I should introduce myself properly," Mireille says, extending her hand to you in greeting, "I am Mireille, your matka's wife." You take Mireille's hand and shake it, gushing internally at how soft it is. You can't help but imagine it slowly running up your thigh and- You shake the thought from your head. "A pleasure to meet you, Mireille," you say, smiling politely. "Ah, darling, you may call me matka if you would like," Mireille coos, grasping your other hand and pulling it to her chest, "we are family after all!" Your hands are enveloped on all sides by Mireille's body; her soft hands grasping them tenderly and pressing them into her breasts. You're a little overwhelmed, unsure whether you're about to pass out or have an orgasm. You've never felt this way before. Your heart beats like a drum in your chest, and your pussy throbs. "Will you show me it?" You nearly die from shock. "W-what?!" Surely she couldn't be asking to see your...? Not while your mother is right there, surely? "Your true form, darling. Like your matka's." Oh. Right. "Mir, she's had a long day," your mother says, coming to your rescue, "let her settle in before you go bombarding her with questions about her looks." Mireille chuckles and lets your hands drop. She steps back and sighs. "Of course, I apologise, darling," Mireille says apologetically, "I am often acting a little too strongly when meeting people." Your mother comes up next to her and Mireille leans down to give her a kiss. A twinge of envy grips your heart, but you quickly supress the feeling. "I have also had a long day, so I shall shower and retire," Mireille says with a yawn. She smiles at you again and your heart melts. You can't help but wonder how she'd look under the running water of the shower. Steam floating in the air obscuring her body from view. Glistening droplets sliding down her chest and onto- Once again you shake yourself out of your thoughts. You aren't sure what has come over you, and it's worrying. Mireille says goodnight to you and makes her way down the hall, presumably towards the bathroom. Your mother wraps her arm around you with a chuckle. "She's a bit intense, isn't she?" "Y-yeah," you stammer, unable to really formulate proper sentences. "Come on, Tiss," she says, pulling you along gently, "I'll show you to your room. I'm sure hiding your form all day has you exhausted." "Mhm." You let yourself be led to the guest room by your mother, who soon leaves you with a good night hug. Exhausted in more ways than one, you pull off your clothes and flop onto the bed. [[That night...->DragonIncestEp2]]

"Mireille! Mireille!" You bite your hand to stifle your moans as the fingers plunge in and out of your wet cunt. Your eyes are shut tight in pleasure, gasping at the feeling of Mireille's fingers stretching you open lewdly. "Are you going to cum for me, darling?" She starts to furiously assault your clit with her other hand as she speaks, making you scream into the pillow. "Yes! Yes! Mireille!" You cum violently, your pussy clenching down on the invading fingers spasmodically. Your legs wrap around her body tightly and your arm flails out. "You were a good girl for matka, Tissa," she coos in your ear, her wet fingers trailing down your face and coming to a stop at your lips. You open your mouth obediently and start to suck on her fingers, tongue rolling over her rough, scaly digits with- You snap open your eyes. It takes you a moment to figure out what is going on. Your fingers on one hand are stuffed inside your mouth, the fingers on the other buried deep in your twitching slit. You have a pillow tucked between your thighs, and another smothering your face. "Oh for fuck's sake," you groan, pulling your taloned hand from your mouth. You look at the giant wet patch across the centre of your bed and grumble. "Of course it wasn't real," you sigh, withdrawing your fingers from your dripping snatch. Your scales slide back into place around your crotch, and your hand is soon sporting its usual red scales and black claws. You roll over a little to avoid the massive wet patch and curl up into a ball. What is going on with you? You've never really been all that interested in sex, but since meeting Mireille last night that's all you can think about. Even before you fell asleep, every one of your thoughts was replaced with thoughts of your mother's wife. You'd heard that during puberty it wasn't uncommon to be obsessed with sex, but your puberty came and went without ever getting *this* bad. Of course, you never had a huge amount of interaction with other people before this, but still. This couldn't be normal. Here you are, a twenty-three year old woman, unable to stop thinking about fucking your step-mother. Just constant thoughts of Mireille. Her beautiful skin. Her charming accent. Those giant breasts. Her soft, tender fingers. Touching you. Stroking you. Teasing your slit as your scales open up to let her- "Fucking hell!" You snap your questing hand back up to your chest and tuck it under your body. "That's it," you state loudly, "starting from now, [[no more lewd thoughts about my mum's wife!->DragonIncestEp3]]"

Whatever Gods may exist have to be fucking testing you right now. Your fingers are gripping your spoon tightly as you attempt to finish your cereal. Your eyes are glued squarely to the flakes of sugar and wheat as they bob around in the milk. You just know that if you look away for even a second, you are going to break your self-imposed rule. "It is such a wonderful morning, isn't it darling?" You grunt a soft "yes" to Mireille's question before shovelling another scoop of cereal into your mouth. You force your breakfast down silently, thinking about literally anything except your near naked step-mother just feet away from you in the kitchen. This milk tastes quite unlike the milk you usually have at home. Of course, your father usually just buys powdered milk in bulk and you mix it with water. He says it is cost effective; you think he is just lazy. This is premium, full fat milk. It's creamy and delicious, not unlike Mireille's thi- The cereal is exceptionally sugary! You don't often eat cereal for breakfast, opting instead for a more meat-centric morning meal. Not that it's bad cereal mind. It's crunchy, and the sugar sparks across your tongue, igniting your dopamine receptors. You wonder how much dopamine your brain would release if you licked Mireille's pus- BOY YOU SURE LOVE CERAMIC BOWLS! You wonder where your mother got this one! It doesn't look like much, but it's nice! Definitely interesting enough to draw your attention away from anything else! The white is really pretty! It reminds you of Mirei- You get to your feet in a hurry, pushing out your chair loudly. "Are you alright, darling?" "I'm fine," you mutter, gripping the spoon in your hand so tightly the metal bends. You swear under your breath and place the spoon into the bowl, reminding yourself to apologise to your mother later. You take a deep breath and plan your next moves carefully. You have to place your bowl in the sink, then get back to the guest room so you can set up your computer. A seemingly innocuous task, but you are certain this will be an ordeal and a half. The first step is making it to the sink without looking at Mireille. Of course the woman had to get out of the shower and come wash the dishes without getting dressed first. You nearly collapsed when you first saw her saunter into the kitchen covered in water droplets, wet towel barely clinging to her voluptuous frame. Wet hair sticking wonderfully to her neck, just begging- The sink. Get to the sink. Curse your mother for choosing this morning of all mornings to have to go out to run an errand. If she were here she'd be able to be a distraction from Mireille. You could just wait until the two started conversing and then slip out quietly. But now you had to get past the Sexual Guardian of the Kitchen without thinking any lustful thoughts. Speed is key. You'll just take a quick glance, figure out where everything is, then move. If you're fast enough you'll have placed the bowl in the sink before Mireille realises you've moved. Then it's just back to your room to distract yourself with something mundane. Ready? Time to move. You flick your gaze to the kitchen long enough to ascertain Mireille's general position and the location of the sink, then stare back at your empty bowl intently. One step down. With a deep breath, you scoop up your bowl and start walking towards the sink, not looking up from the ceramic breakfast holder. Each step gets you closer to the sink, then closer to freedom. Just have to stay calm. Once you finally reach the sink, you sigh with relief and move to put your bowl in- There is a loud clattering sound as you drop the bowl in the sink. Shards of ceramic bounce up and cut up your fingers, and you recoil in pain. "I'm so sorry, darling," Mireille cries, grabbing a hand towel from the bench. She scoops up your injured hand and wraps it with the cloth tenderly. "I'm fine," you whisper. You lost. Mireille's hand brushed against your own as you went to put the bowl into the sink, and your whole body froze. Within nanoseconds you had imagined fifty different scenarios that all ended with you cumming in her arms, and all your hard work had gone to waste. "Darling, you were bleeding badly," Mireille says, stroking your covered hand softly, "I am so sorry for startling you, darling." "It's fine, Mireille," you sigh, letting your head fall, "I'm the one who should apologise for breaking your bowl." "Nonsense, darling," she says, pulling you into a hug, "a bowl is just object. You are precious and need care." You close your eyes, basking in the feeling of her wet tits pressing into your face through the damp towel. Oh well. You lasted a few hours at least. And now you know exactly what you'll be imagining when you knuckle one out in a few minutes. "Let me see your hand, darling," Mireille coos, pushing you back softly and lifting your hand, "I will see what I can do to help you." "It's fine, really," you say, letting the beautiful woman fuss over your hand regardless. Mireille unwraps the bloodied cloth and gasps. Your hand has some blood smeared across it, but it is otherwise unblemished. There isn't a scratch to be seen on your dark skin. "I heal pretty damn quick," you laugh, "faster than both mum and dad. I could probably put my hand in a blender and heal up in moments." You laugh half-heartedly, but soon stop as you look into Mireille's sad eyes. "Just because you heal, does not mean it is okay for you to be hurting." You are quiet, not really sure how to respond. Mireille wipes the blood from your hand and throws the cloth aside. She raises your hand up to her lips and kisses you softly on your knuckles. You are unable to contain it anymore. The feeling of her plush lips on your skin breaks you. All of a sudden your scales slide back into place across your hands and feet, the tiles clinking as your talons return. Your horns pop forth from your head and you can feel the magic obscuring your features fade, revealing your orange eyes and sharp teeth. Your shirt tears as your wings burst forth from your back, and your jean shorts do the same as your tail thuds onto the tiles. Under your now tattered clothes, your scales slip back into place over your breasts and crotch. You pull back from Mireille, embarrassed, and start focusing your magic to hide your form again. "I'm sorry," you splutter, trying to hold your tattered shirt and pants in place while you channel a spell. You shy away from Mireille, tears in your eyes as your scales on your hands slowly begin receding. "No!" Mireille leaps forward and pulls your hand to her chest, shocking you out of your focus. Your scales stop receding and return to their usual place, and you look up at Mireille through tear filled eyes. "But, I- I-" Mireille places a hand on your cheek and you feel all your tension dissolve. "Please, I want to see your true form, darling," she whispers, tenderly stroking your cheek, "I think it is beautiful." You don't know how to react, so you just stand there as Mireille removes your ruined shirt. You step out of your destroyed shorts at her urging then stand very still as she steps back to examine you. "Ah, you are so gorgeous, darling. You are looking so much like your matka, but also you are looking like your own woman." She steps close and runs her hands through your hair. "It is a very similar colour," she says gently, "but it is a little bit lighter." Her hand traces along your horn, and you shudder at the touch. "Your horns are not as large as your matka's, but they are so much softer to touch." She turns her gaze to your wings, and you find yourself folding them a little closer to yourself in embarrassment. "Your scales," she says, grabbing your hand again and lifting it to her face, "are also different. Not much, but I can see it. They are darker. Richer." She lets your hand drop and places her hand on your cheek again. Her finger strokes over your lips, and your whole body tingles. "Just like your skin. It is similar, but unique. Richer. Deeper colour." Mireille leans down, her face barely a finger's width from your own. "Just as beautiful." You don't even put up the pretense of resistance as your step-mother leans forward the final few millimeters and kisses you. You immediately melt entirely into her embrace, revelling in the sensation of her lips on yours. You'd imagined what kissing her would be like, but you never could have dreamed it would be so glorious. Mireille's hand that isn't on your cheek slides up your arm, making its way up to your scale-clad breast. You don't even have to consciously hide your scales; they part freely of their own volition at your step-mother's touch. You gasp into Mireille's mouth as she starts to caress your breast, fingers rolling your nipple sensually. Your own hands shoot up to Mireille's chest, grabbing at her boobs greedily. Her towel must have fallen without you noticing, because there isn't a single thread between you and her immaculate tits. You retract your talons and scales, but Mireille pulls away from your kiss when you do. "No, darling," she gasps, "keep them there. I know you will not hurt me." Before you can respond, she is kissing you again, and you shrug. Your scales and talons pop back out, and you knead Mireille's breasts with caution. Mirelle's moans in your mouth spur you on. You are gradually growing bolder and bolder, becoming more aggressive in your groping. Your hands start to travel down over Mireille's soft tummy, towards her hard, throbbing- Your eyes go wide and you pull back momentarily. Your clawed hand is wrapped tenderly around something warm and fleshy that you certainly didn't expect to feel. Mireille laughs softly at your expression, stroking your hair. "I know it isn't what you were to be expecting, darling," she purrs, fingers grazing your scalp, "but I am hoping it will not be a problem." Your eyes are fixated on the penis in your hand. It pulses rhythmically, throbbing in your scaly palm. A small bead of clear liquid is forming at the tip of the large, bulbous head. It mesmerises you, the |translate>[(cycling-link: "15cm", "6 inch")] rod hot and aching to be touched. You don't really notice as Mireille's hands slide to the top of your head and insistently nudge you down. You drop down to your knees at Mireille's nudging, coming face to face with the leaking member. You squeeze it softly, and a dollop of the clear liquid spills out of the tip. You've leaned forward and taken the tip into your mouth before you realise you've done it, refusing to let that delicious looking liquid splash onto the tiles. Mireille moans loudly, and you tremble at the taste of her precum on your tongue. "Ah, darling," she moans, renewing her stroking of your fiery hair, "it is feeling so good." You roll your long tongue around the tip, flicking it under the foreskin and against the slit. Mireille gasps, and you swallow all the precum that spills out. It only takes you a few moments more to work up your courage, taking the length further into your mouth. "So hot. So good." Mireille's continued vocalisations urge you on. You bob your head back and forth, trailing your wet lips up and down her shaft. Each time you go a little further than the last, gradually easing her cock deeper into your throat. Your nose is pressing against her crotch before you know it, her entire cock surrounded by your warm, tight throat. "|translate>[(cycling-link: "Teraz sa idem hýbať.", "I'm going to move now.")]" You have no idea what your step-mother just said to you, but you can hazard a guess when she grips your horns like handles and starts softly rocking her hips against your face. Your eyes roll back into your head with pleasure as Mireille fucks your face. The scales around your pussy have long since retracted, and you start to furiously masturbate as your mouth is used as a toy. "|translate>[(cycling-link: "Je to taký úžasný pocit,", "It's such an amazing feeling,")]" Mireille groans, and you moan in response. Mireille gradually starts to become more aggressive with her thrusting, making you gag and sputter. You don't care in the slightest, jamming your fingers inside of you gleefully as your throat is ravaged. Soon your step-mother is slamming her hips into your face with all her force, gripping your horns with a strength that would rival your own. Each time she bucks into you, her heavy, full balls bounce off your chin, making you smile with delight. "|translate>[(cycling-link: "Matka je takmer tam,", "Mother is almost there,")]" Mireille cries, speeding up her already blisteringly fast thrusts, "|translate>[(cycling-link: "Všetko to prehltni, dcéra!", "Swallow it all, daughter!")]" The first spurt of cum to splatter into your throat sends you over the edge. You scream around the intrusion in your mouth as you cum. Wave after wave of hot, salty jizz fills your stomach and throat, and you can't get enough. Mireille yanks your head off of her dick violently, holding you back so fresh strings of cum can splash across your face and open mouth. When Mireille finally lets go of your horns and her orgasm abates, you are slathered with nutcream. It drips from your coated face and onto your bare tits, some of it falling from them onto your thighs. Some of the cum coats your tongue, and you swallow it down with a satisfied gulp. Your own cum has caused a tripping hazard on the tiled floor, pooling beneath you and making your legs damp. "Ah, you are such a good |translate>[(cycling-link: "dcéra", "daughter")] for matka," Mireille sighs, looking down at you with a glazed look on her face. "Thank you, matka," you giggle, feeling all bubbly inside. "Couldn't even wait until I was back, huh, Mir?" Your mother's voice snaps you out of your orgasmic stupor, and you scramble around aimlessly. "M-mum?! What did-? How much-? It isn't what it looks like!" You scrabble about on the wet floor for your clothes, but don't manage to do much more than slip in your own cum and fall onto your back. Your mother laughs loudly from her spot in the kitchen doorway. "You shouldn't say things like that when it's *exactly* what it looks like, hun!" Your face burns with shame, and the air around you starts to crackle with unconscious magic. Intense, fearful heat starts to radiate from you and you flailingly attempt to get to your feet. You slip again in the puddle of your girl juices, but your mother is next to you in a flash to catch you. "Relax, baby," she says, making sure you don't slip again, "just breathe. I'm not upset. It's alright, Tissa. Stay on the floor for now. Calm down, baby." You take several deep breaths, focusing yourself. You will your magical energy back under control, and the heat emanating from your body dissipates as quickly it arrived. Your mother lets go of you, steam that was trapped between your bodies escaping into the air. "I'm sorry, mum," you mutter once you've regained some composure. "I said it's alright, honey," your mother says, grabbing your face in her taloned hand and turning it towards her. You meet her eyes, and they are filled with warmth. She isn't mad. You sigh with relief, and relax completely. "Your matka and I are very much open," Mireille says from above you. "Exactly," your mother says, stroking your cheek with her thumb. You quite like the sensation of her scaled finger brushing along your skin, her talon ever-so-softly grazing you with the tip. "We are very open sexually, Tissa," she says, "we generally have sex with whoever we please, unless there is some exceptional circumstance. I still frequently sleep with your father." You blush heavily. Somehow the thought of your parents having sex makes you more embarrassed than sitting in front of your mum, on the floor of her kitchen, covered in cum you just sucked from her wife's cock. "I have also had sex with your |translate>[(cycling-link: "otec", "father")], darling" Mireille chimes in happily, multiplying your embarrassment. "I could tell how you felt about Mireille the moment you saw her, baby," your mother coos, "you weren't exactly able to hide it well." Your face flares up again, and your mothers chuckle in unison. "She was very open to me about finding you attractive last night, and I told her that I would be fine if she asked to have sex with you." Your mother turns up towards Mireille with a raised eyebrow and sarcastically pursed lips. "I did ask her to wait until I was home, though," she says dryly. "It just happened on accident, |translate>[(cycling-link: "milovaný", "beloved")]," she laughs, unconvincingly. "Sure it did," your mother says, rolling her eyes. You laugh along with them, feeling a little more relaxed now. "Hold on...? [[Why did you want her to wait?->DragonIncestEp4]]"

You would be very confused right now, if you weren't also very, very aroused. "You are looking beautiful down there, |translate>[(cycling-link: "dievčatá", "girls")]," Mireille sighs, looking down at you from the edge of the bed. "Thank you, hun," your mother says, shuffling a little closer beside you. "Um... Eh?" You aren't really sure what you've gotten yourself into, but the throbbing in your crotch is telling you just to go with it. You are kneeling alongside your mother on the floor of her bedroom. The two of you are positioned between Mireille's legs, her semi-erect cock bobbing in the air near your faces. Your mother's hand presses in between your shoulder blades, calming you. She is very warm, and the heat makes your wings feel nice. "So, personal question," your mother says with a smirk, turning to you, "how many dicks have you sucked, Tissa?" "A-ah, well, one now, I g-guess," you stammer, higher brain not even trying to comprehend how strange a question that is to hear from your mother. "Oh, so Mireille stole your first time all for herself, did she?" Your mother gives her wife a wry smile, but Mireille looks very pleased with herself. "I stole nothing," she huffs with fake indignance, throwing her hair out of her face with a pout. "It isn't that surprising," your mother says, pulling you a little closer to her, "not like you have had a lot of chance to get intimate with people given the nature of your upbringing." You love the feeling of your mother's body heat against you, and you shuffle a bit closer to press more of your naked body against hers. "No time like the present though," she says, grinning devilishly. Your mother grabs one of your hands in her own and guides it up to Mireille's dick. Mireille lets out a satisfied sigh as your mother and you both wrap your warm, scaly hands around her ever hardening member. "Oh, dievčatá, your hands are so nice!" "Our hands are warm," your mother says, flashing you a smirk, "but our mouths are even hotter." She winks at you and you get the idea. In tandem the two of you let go of Mireille's cock and raise your lips to it. You both plant a sloppy wet kiss on the hard meat, one on either side, drawing more moans from Mireille. You and your mother work together, kissing and licking up and down the sides of Mireille's shaft. Every so often your tongue will wrap around the same bit of Mireille's length as your mother's, and you shudder at the taboo pleasure. "I am about to cum, dievčatá," Mireille groans, and your mother hops to her feet. You move to follow, but she urges you to instead kneel directly in front of your step-mother, an instruction you follow eagerly. "Open wide, baby," your mother says sultrily, "be a good girl and take it all." She wraps her hand around Mireille's spit covered shaft and starts jerking it rapidly. You open your mouth wide and tilt your head slightly, ready and excited for what is about to happen. Ropes of hot cum burst out of Mireille's cock as she moans loudly. The sticky strings fly out and land on your face one after another, making you shudder with delight. Several ropes land on your lips and tongue, spreading Mireille's taste throughout your mouth. When the last of Mireille's cum has left her member, your mother gently wipes up the last remaining drops and licks them off her finger. You are still kneeling with a face coated in jizz, unsure of what to do. You decide to swallow what is in your mouth when your mother kneels back down next to you, grabbing your face in her hands and pulling you into a deep kiss. Your cunt gushes as your own mother forces her serpentine tongue into your mouth, entwining it with your own. A mixture of tastes fill your mouth: the taste of Mireille's cock, the taste of her cum, the taste of your mother's tongue. You find yourself grabbing hold of your mother possessively, pushing your tongue deeper into her mouth. She smirks without breaking your liplock, grabbing hold of your shoulders and forcing you backwards. You are startled, and fall onto your back. Your mother follows you to the ground, pressing her entire weight on you as she sucks and slurps at your lips. You are momentarily overwhelmed, but soon feel a fire in your loins. You pull your mother closer to yourself and then roll over, getting yourself on top of her. Her eyes show that she is just as aroused by this situation as you, and the two of you begin wrestling for dominance in earnest. You toss and turn on the floor, flailing about together without ever breaking your kiss. Wings and tails and legs and arms are all used to try and gain the upper hand, your tangled red ball of lust bumping into the bed and wall as your battle rages on. The air around you both starts to shimmer with heat as your bodies boil with passion. The scales around your crotch completely retract, as do your mother's, filling the air with the scent of soaking cunts. With a fresh burst of competitive arousal spurring you on, you roll your mother onto her back and pin her to the floor with all your might. She attempts to raise her arms and legs, but you grin victoriously as they barely move under your strength. Just as it seems your mother might finally accept that you're the winner of your little battle, something warm and smooth probes at the entrance to your pussy, making you buckle in pleasure. "Gotcha," your mother smirks, rolling you over and pinning your arms to the floor. You writhe as whatever is in your pussy pumps slowly in and out, making you weak. "Ch-cheater," you cry, writhing about fruitlessly. "No I'm not," your mother chuckles, licking some of Mireille's cum from your face, "you just didn't think to do it first." The winner of your bout made clear, your mother hops to her feet. It's then that you can see what is invading your needy cunt. It's the tip of your mother's tail. "Handy, ain't it?" You pout, but whimper longingly when she withdraws it. "Don't worry, baby," she says, extending her hand to you, "there's something even better for you if you want it." She motions to where Mireille has been as you wrestled with you mother. "That was a lovely show, dievčatá," your step-mother says, stroking her dick slowly, "but I am needing something a little more now." You understand what your mothers are saying, and you gulp. You definitely want this, but you're very nervous. "I'll be right here with you, baby," your mother whispers, licking your ear, "just relax." You nod, letting your mother push you face-down onto the bed. She hops up on the bed next to you and starts stroking your back. "Hop up onto your hands and knees, honey," she says gently, and you do so. You shudder with delight when you feel Mireille's hand grab hold of your asscheek possessively. "So beautiful," she purrs. Mireille grabs you by the hips and pulls you closer to the edge of the bed. You let your body move at her instruction, moaning weakly as she lifts your tail up and starts to stroke your thoroughly soaked cunt. "You ready?" You nod to your mother, smiling bravely. A loud cry of bliss escapes your throat as you feel the head of Mireille's cock slip inside you. Your arms become weak, and you lower your front half onto the bed. "You are doing so well, darling," Mireille says, stroking your tail with one hand while the other grips your hip. "Don't hold back your voice, baby," your mother whispers, kissing your neck gently. You take her words to heart, loudly screaming in ecstasy as Mireille hilts herself inside you. The feeling of her thick thighs bumping against your own, her hand on your tail, and the gentle tapping of her balls against your clit overwhelms you. You cum loudly, tears of joy soaking the sheets as you bury your face in the mattress. Your mother's warm hands stroke along the edges of your wings playfully, the appendages having flared out of their own accord. "|translate>[(cycling-link: "Taký krásny pohľad.", "Such a beautiful sight.")]" Mireille's thrusts start to become more pronounced, jiggling your whole body with each movement. "How are you feeling, baby?" You don't answer your mother with words. Instead you turn to face her and pull her down to you, kissing her passionately. She chuckles into your mouth and starts kissing you back. You can't believe pleasure like this is even possible. Your step-mother's dick turning you inside out from one end is enough to have you a gibbering mess, but the added taboo ecstasy of sucking face with your own mother dials it up to eleven. "|translate>[(cycling-link: "Ste pripravení to všetko vziať, dcéra?", "Are you ready to take it all, daughter?")]" "Fill her up, Mir," your mother says, answering the question you didn't understand for you before continuing to make-out with you. Mireille's breathing starts to get heavier and more erratic, mirroring her strong, lustful thrusts. You cum at the same time Mireille does, the added warmth of her baby batter in your cunt tipping you over the edge once more. You scream in pleasure into your mother's mouth, and Mireille groans blissfully as she presses herself as deep inside you as she can. "|translate>[(cycling-link: "Dobrá dcéra. Nech ťa matka naplní,", "Good daughter. Let your mother fill you,")]" she moans, her thrusts slowing down. A few minutes later the three of you are laying on the bed together, holding each other in your arms. You are sandwiched between your mothers, feeling wonderfully warm inside and out. All of you are breathing heavily, a haze of sex and sweat hanging in the air around you. Your mother and Mireille have their eyes closed, holding you close. You have many thoughts going through your head right now, but you wave most of them away. You're sure that this will lead to all sorts of changes and awkward conversations later, but for now you just let yourself drift to sleep in your mothers' loving embrace. You can think about the future later. ***END*** [[Restart->Intro]](if:$DarianX is true)[ |cloaked>[ [[XENOS File Updated: #327426->DarianX]] ]]

##"To My Office, Mr Taylor" Well, there it is. You've been expecting the email from your boss all weekend, and it has finally arrived. When you arrived at the office this morning, you had half hoped that the blunders from the last Friday were simply a bad dream. Unfortunately, the apologetic looks you got from the other guys -or at least, from those that didn't avoid your gaze entirely- confirmed to you that the unfortunate events had in fact taken place as you remembered. It was such a simple thing really. A missed email here, a wrong phone call there, and suddenly you'd just lost Aion Corporation one of their best clients. It hadn't even been entirely your fault. A mistake in the email servers and corruption of some key company files were the catalysts to your mistake. But the reality was the same regardless. You fucked up, and now you were going to lose your job.(if:$ED15 is true)[ |cloaked>[(link-reveal:"You see a strange piece of red paper in the corner of your desk that you don't recognise.")[ You pick it up and read the words printed on it: (link-reveal:"Taylor always had unrivalled confidence.")[(change:?passage,(text-style:"blur"))(dialog:"(text-colour:orange)[**THIS REALITY FALLS INTO THE OBSCURITY OF THE COSMOS**]", "A new reality dawns")(t8n-arrive:"blur")(go-to: "FTMChad") ]]]] [[Time to go->FTM2]]

Your heart hammers in your chest, and you double over in an attempt to catch your breath. The two bodyguards are frozen in the doorway, arms outstretched, ready to grab you. Had you been a few moments late, you'd have been caught in their grasp and entirely at their mercy. Fortunately in this state, you can never be too late. Once you've regained some composure, you take stock of your situation. The two beefy bodyguards are barring the door, though they won't actually impede your progress any when you go to leave. Andrews is standing behind his desk, arms folded and a smug smile on his cunt face. You note amusedly that the chair you knocked over when you leapt to your feet still hasn't hit the floor. "That was too close," you sigh, picking up the chair and placing it back down. You drop into the chair and take a few moments to piece out your plan of action. "I can't just walk out of here as is. They'll just catch up to me in no time and I'll be a goner. But I'll forget all of this as soon as time resumes, so I'll need to get far enough away from here that I'll get the hint." You get an idea, and make your way behind Andrews' desk. You dig through his desk drawers for a pen and some paper, then scribble a quick note to yourself. You tuck it into your cleavage, then knee Andrew hard in the balls a few times. "Fuck you," you spit, pushing him in such a way that he will fall painfully on his face when time resumes. You steal Andrews' wallet for good measure, then move to head out of the office. Your best bet is to make your way down to your desk, grab your handbag and belongings, and then get to a secluded place before time resumes. Hopefully then you will check the note you've left yourself and will figure out a plan from there. You shuffle past the guards and make your way over to the stairwell entrance.(if:$SandraTimeStop is true)[ (text-colour:cyan)[You make a quick detour on your way to pull Sandra out from behind her desk and give her a long sloppy kiss. "Gonna miss seeing you for our occasional lunch meets," you sigh, slurping her unresponsive tongue into your mouth and twirling your own around it. You step back from her sadly, running your fingers over her soft lips longingly. "Stay safe, Sandra," you whisper, "you were really, *really* stupid, but you were the most genuine and fun person I knew while working here." You resist the urge to smooch her again, turning away slowly and completing your journey to the stairwell door.]] You open the door and start heading down the floors, heels clacking against the metal stairs loudly. You start to work up a bit of a sweat as you go down, each flight of stairs feeling just a little longer than the last. When you at last reach the floor your cubicle is on, you let out a sigh of relief, pulling open the door and strolling inside. Part of you wishes time were still flowing normally, just so you could feel the cool air-conditioning on your sweat slick skin. Of course, then you'd have a lot more to sweat about, so you think you're probably in the better situation. You hastily find your desk and start stuffing things into your handbag. Your phone, your wallet, some office supplies, a half-empty pack of gum in your desk drawer - anything that doesn't take up too much space that may come in handy. "Hang on, while I remember... there." You take a box of thumb tacks from your desk and procure a tack from within, pressing it into the strap of your handbag for later. You toss the box into your bag and step back from your desk. Confident you've got all you can take, you head back to the stairwell, giving the office one last silent farewell as you do. It takes several minutes to make your way down the stairwell to the lobby of the Aion Corp building, and you're sweating fairly heavily now. You're starting to wonder if extended periods of stopped time may be detrimental to your health, but you press on regardless. You weave your way around the silent, frozen people in the lobby, apologising quietly whenever you bump someone. Once you've gotten to the stairwell on the other side of the lobby, you groan and step inside. "I will never complain about slow elevators again," you grumble, making your way down yet more stairs towards the underground car park. Finally reaching the level your car is parked on, you rush out and make your way to your parking spot. You try to unlock your car, but nothing happens. "Why won't it...?" You slap your forehead in frustration. Of course the electronic lock won't work while time is frozen. "Dammit, I was hoping to get in the car and pin this to the steering wheel before I unfroze time, but I will have to take drastic measures." You pull the somewhat sweat-stained paper from your cleavage, opening it up and checking that it is still legible. Satisfied, you remove the thumb tack from your handbag's strap and punch it through the paper. "Alright, sorry about this, me," you whisper, placing the tip of the tack against your breast. With a deep breath, you smack the tack into the flesh of your tit. You stifle a yelp of pain and (link-reveal:"release the power of Chronos")[(dialog:"(text-colour:orange)[**THE COGS OF TIME RESUME THEIR SOLEMN ROTATION**]", "Time flows freely once more") (go-to: "Escape2") ], hoping that your work doesn't go to waste.

Seconds before you become a smear on the basement floor, you twist in the air and thrust your legs out to the side. Your legs snag on the railings and your fall suddenly halts, all your downwards momentum transferred into your legs. You feel no pain as your legs snap off at the knee bloodlessly. The appendages freely separate from the rest of you, and you manouevre the rest of your body around to land on the cement below mostly painlessly. A shock travels up your arms and draws a grunt from you, but you are otherwise unharmed. You hear a shattering sound and look over to where your glasses finally landed, broken beyond repair. You roll over onto your back and stare up into the stairwell. After a few floors the dim lights seem to fade entirely, leaving you staring into a void. Something inside you wanted to be here, but now you don't know where to go. You can't go any further down. You're at the bottom. Oh yeah, and your legs were just ripped off. You push yourself up into a sitting position and look at your leg stumps. Everything from the knee down is missing entirely, but there is no blood or exposed bone. It looks almost as though you were never born with legs, or perhaps that you had some surgery to remove them many years ago. It doesn't even hurt. You poke at your thighs and discover why you feel no pain. You can't feel your legs at all. With a series of prods and pinches, you find that you can't feel any part of you below your belly button. This revelation should frighten you. At least, that's what one part of your mind is telling you. You should be afraid right now. You should scream for help. But you aren't, and you don't. Then, the compulsion returns. You look over and see a door in the darkness of the stairwell. It has a light fixture above it, but it appears as though the lights haven't worked for some time. Knowing that you need to get through that door, you roll yourself onto your front and use your arms to drag your half limp body forward. Dragging yourself across the dirty, coarse cement starts to shred your clothes, but you pay them no mind as you approach your goal. Once you reach the door it takes some stretching and jumping to reach the handle, but you manage to pull the door open after a few attempts. You pull yourself inside the pitch black room with determination. You're close now. Cobwebs cling to your face and body as you move further and further inside. By the time you reach what you assume is the center of the room, you are coated in several layers of sticky fibers. "Now what?" You ask your question aloud to the silent room, but recieve no answer. Starting to doubt yourself, you swallow hard and call out to the darkness again. "What do I do now?" Silence. The darkness suddenly feels very heavy around you. The silence is deafening. Something still isn't right. You *know* this is where you are meant to be, but you don't know why. What should you do? That's when you feel it. A tickling sensation along your lower back. The skin around your tailbone starts to itch and writhe, and you start to scratch at it feverishly. You tear away layers of silk and rip off your shirt so that you can scratch at the irritated area. Clumps of skin slough away under your nails, layers disappearing rapidly beneath your itching. Then your fingers meet something solid and smooth, and the itching stops. The hard, chitinous material pushes out from your tailbone and you sigh with relief. Your skin splits and tears as whatever is in your back forces its way out. The itching starts anew across your whole body, and you furiously scratch at your waist and arms. You shred away the skin wherever it itches, stopping only when the chitin below is revealed to the stale air at last. You pull the webs from your face and blink, suddenly able to see in the darkness. Your eight eyes flitter open and closed at different times, each taking in the changes to your body. Your arms are coated in deep purple chitin from your sharp fingertips up to your elbow. They look like gauntlets, and they make a clicking sound as you flex your fingers. Your chest and tummy are completely bare, your black skin having faded into a pallid grey. Long black hair tumbles over your shoulders and hangs over your chest and back haphazardly, offering a laughable amount of modesty. Where your hips once met your torso is now completely covered in the same purple chitin that covers your arms. You look over your shoulder to examine your back, and see a large, arachnid abdomen protruding from your lower back. It is twice as large as your torso is, and is covered entirely in chitin. Spaced out around your abdomen are eight long, chitinous legs. With a moment of focus you find that you can move each one freely, as easily as the fingers on your hand. You bring your hands up to examine your face through touch. Your mouth feels mostly unchanged- bar the two large chelicera that extend from the sides of your cheeks and fold neatly infront of your lips. Each one is tipped with a sharp, venom coated fang, and can be moved individually. Your nose is entirely unchanged, but you have six additional eyes spread evenly across your temples. They aren't human eyes, at least from what you can feel. They are ovular and feel like they are made of glass, solid to your questing fingers. You take a deep breath and stretch your arms and legs, wriggling and writhing to a chorus of chattering clicks. You examine your chitin-covered hands in a little more detail now that your eyes have adjusted. They are a shade of purple that brings to mind the word "royalty", and seem to sparkle in the non-existent light. There are hundreds of tiny grains embedded in the chitin that appear to catch and magnify even the most miniscule ray of light, glittering beautifully with just the light your body emits. You also note that your eyes must be extremely sensitive to light now if you are able to see such minute rays. You turn yourself around to examine the room you are in. It is a large, mostly empty space, filled with a few scattered filing cabinets. Presumably some sort of old basement office floor that was converted into a storeroom, then neglected and forgotten. Perfect for you to make [[your new home->ArachneAttack]].

With a contented sigh, you lower yourself down onto your web slowly. You let the rigid silk strands take your whole weight as you proudly examine your new home. The entire room is covered with your beautiful webs, a maze of silk to ensnare and protect in equal measure. For you, making your way through the forest of webs is a simple thing. You could do it in your sleep. But for your prey? The webs are a death sentence. You let your eyes flutter closed and take in the silence of your domain. There is no sound around you except your own. Your breathing punctuates the silence, as do the occasional clicks of your chitinous body parts knocking against each other. The silence is a nice change from the bustle of the world above, but you can't help but wish for- (text-style:"blur")["There's some sort of chitin or something on these rails."] Your eyes snap open as you hear the approaching voice. You put your hands to your webs, feeling the vibrations. There are two people coming closer. They are walking down the stairs outside. The two of them are about two floors away from you now, and slowly getting closer to the bottom of the stairwell. You smile broadly. Prey approaches. You skitter over to the door of the room and open it slightly. You purposefully put some weight on the door to make it creak, leaving it slightly ajar. "What was that sound?" You grin viciously. You've caught your prey's attention; now to set the trap. You quickly spin some webs beneath you and hang them like a net above the door. You spin some strands between the net and the door, rigging it to swing forwards into whoever opens the door. Satisfied with your trap, you climb up the wall and hang from the ceiling, waiting patiently to observe the fruits of your labour. "Look, some sort of glass over here," comes a female voice, drifting in through the open door. "There's some metal among it," comes a male voice, "maybe someone's glasses?" "Hello? Is anyone down here?" Deciding that making them frantic will increase your trap's chance of success, you respond. (text-style:"subscript")["Help me. Please..."] You purposefully make your voice as weak as you can while ensuring your prey will hear it. "Is someone there?" "Are you alright?" "Where are you?" You resist the urge to chuckle at the frantic voices, instead affecting your pitiful voice once more. (text-style:"subscript")["It hurts... Help..."] You rap your fingers against your palm gently to create a gentle clattering. "Look over there!" The man's exclamation makes you smile widely as it tells you he's seen the door. You hear the two rush over towards your nest recklessly. "Don't worry, we're coming!" The woman's voice is louder now as the two approach the door. As the door swings open, your net flies forwards, hitting your targets dead-on. "What the fuck!?" Both of them shout in unison as your webs cover them, binding their movements. You laugh cruelly as they fall down, tangled in silk. Your webs are strong enough that you doubt a human could break them with their bare hands, but you nonetheless squeeze yourself through the door way and start spinning more webs to further bind them. "Who- What are you?" The man stops his struggling momentarily, frightened by your visage. You ignore his question, instead grabbing him with your front legs and tucking him under your abdomen to more easily wrap him with webbing. "Let me go you-!" His shouting is cut off as you slap webs over his mouth, tossing him back onto the ground roughly. He looks like a mummy, bound in silken strands from his feet to his mouth. He squirms and flails, but doesn't achieve much more than making you titter. You turn your attention to the now thoroughly frightened woman. She is still half-heartedly attempting to free herself, but you can see in her eyes that she has mostly resigned herself to the same fate as her companion. "Don't struggle, dear," you coo, walking over to her, "you'll be all wrapped up regardless, so you might as well save your energy." The woman is mostly limp as you pull her up and wrap her identically to the man. You put some webbing over her mouth and lay her down next to her compatriot, happily examining your work. Now comes the most important part: deciding what you'll do with these two. You are certainly quite hungry. Spinning so much silk takes a lot out of you. And you also need something more... primal. You want to breed. But which to eat and which to breed? Why not leave the decision up to them? "Alright, my dears," you say, bending down to get closer to your bound prey, "I'm very hungry, so I'm going to have to eat one of you." The pair start to struggle more earnestly again, eyes going wide. You chuckle at their feeble attempts to break free. "But I only need one of you to sate my hunger, so I'll let one of you decide who I make my first meal." The pair go still as you reach down and remove the covering over the mouth of the [[woman->ArachneF]].

"TAKE HIM! DON'T EAT ME! TAKE THAT BASTARD INSTEAD!" You cackle loudly as the woman shouts and pleads with you to eat the man and spare her. Tears of rage and fear are welling in the man's eyes as he does his best to glare at her. Having heard enough, you slap the web back over her mouth. "Very well," you say, shrugging, "I will feed on him." The woman seems almost jubilant, laughing into her gag. The man is struggling, though you can't tell if he wishes to flee or beat the woman to death. You scoop up the flailing man in your legs and lift him close to your face. He tries to pull his face away as you get closer to him. "You look delicious, darling," you hiss, shifting aside your fangs and planting a wet kiss on his forehead, "I'm sure you'll fill me up wonderfully." He sobs as you run your fingers down his cheek and through his hair. "But I have something in store for your little friend here first," you snarl, looking down at the woman. Any joy she felt drains from her face instantaneously. You grin evilly and attach some fresh webbing to the man's back, then hang him from the wall nearby. "You enjoy the show, darling," you whisper, stroking his chin possessively, "and know that your fate is going to be far more kind than hers." You clatter over to the woman, and she renews her escape attempts. You laugh maniacally as she squirms fruitlessly. "You get to be the start of my glorious new brood!" You roughly lift the woman up and flip her over, granting yourself easy access to her rear. You use your claws to tear open the webbing around her backside, as well as the clothing beneath. She squirms harder as her pert ass is exposed to the air, trying in vain to escape you. "This may end up being somewhat pleasurable for you if you stop struggling," you say, using your hands to knead her cheeks. She doesn't stop struggling, and you shrug. Her loss. The chitin at the front of your abdomen just below your waist parts, and you hiss through your teeth as your ovipositor slips out of you slowly. The woman -no doubt having seen your ovipositor lengthen directly in front of her eyes- starts shouting into the gag and flailing more frantically. "Ready to become the host for my wonderful children?" You're certain that whatever she says roughly translates to "no fucking way", but you don't really care. You lower her down with your legs so that her terrified asshole is directly in line with your |translate>[(cycling-link: "61cm", "2 foot")] ovipositor and lick your lips. The human anus is surprsingly pliable, especially when what you are inserting is as malleable as your ovipositor is. With a single thrust, you embed the entirety of your long, lubricated breeding tube inside the bound woman. She howls in what you assume is pain. You groan with what is most definitely ecstasy. Your ovipositor isn't like a penis. You needn't thrust or hump to get any pleasure from it. The pleasure you get from oviposition comes primarily from what you can eject from your breeding tube, not what you put it inside. Not that it isn't exquisite to bury it in a hot, clenching hole, of course. With a sigh, you relax back onto the floor, going limp as you feel the first of your eggs force its way through your ovipositor and bury itself in the woman's gut. You moan openly and loudly as the bulge runs along the length of your ovipositor, each little shift sending waves of orgasmic bliss through you. As soon as the first egg leaves the tip of your tube, the next egg begins its journey. Several minutes are spent in that blissful state, moaning and groaning as egg after egg forces its way out of your body and into your prey's. The woman stopped struggling after about the fifth egg settled into her gut, and when you finally extract your ovipositor with a sigh, she has well over fifty of the things inside her. "Such a wonderful feeling," you slur, grunting as your ovipositor slips back inside your body. Your chitin closes around it and you get back to your feet. "Time to seal you all up," you say to your insensate egg-dump, "don't want my wonderful little darlings slipping out before they're ready." You lower the woman under your abdomen and web her up entirely, covering every inch of her in silk. You pull her back in front of you to examine her, then smile at your work. "Now when my darling babies hatch, they'll have a fresh meal to feast on. Thank you for your donation." You laugh and sling the egg sack onto your back, turning to face your audience. The man is staring, wide-eyed and fearful. Tears are streaming down his face, and you grin evilly. "Now you see why your fate is kinder, no?" He doesn't respond, but you skitter over to him and pull him from the wall. "Good night." You embed your fangs into his neck, piercing through your webs effortlessly. He lets out a whimper of pain as your fangs embed themselves in his skin, but he quickly goes limp as your venom courses through his body. You wrap him up and sling him onto your back carelessly, then make your way back into your lair. [[And so the brood grows.->ArachneEnd]]

"Very well," you say through the partially open door, "I will leave them four spools of my silk this time." "That would b-be wonderful," the worried young man replies, hands gripping tightly to his clipboard, "they- uh, we- that is- Aion Corporation would also appreciate it immensely if we could please have a few of your ch-children for t-testing." As if he senses your bristling, he continues hurriedly. "Humane testing, of course! Just things like m-memory and pr-problem solving! Building! They would be unharmed!" You let the boy stew in the silence for a few moments before you speak. "Fine. I shall leave five of my precious babies for them as well. But they are not to be hurt! And they must be returned to me later!" "Y-yes! Of course! Thank you s-so much!" The terrified man visibly relaxes. "And my payment?" The boy tenses again for a moment and checks his clipboard. "Of- of course. Um-" He scans the paper on the board rapidly. "Yes, here," he says, letting out a tense breath, "it says that the usual payment shall be d-delivered in the usual way." He frowns a bit. "I-I assume you understand what that means, as I do not. Sorry." You grin viciously in the darkness. "Yes, I understand that very well," you say. The man relaxes a little, nodding to himself. "Good," he whispers, "thank goodness." He straightens up and addresses you once more. "I-if everything is in order, I shall take my leave," he says shakily as he turns away, clearly wanting to go as soon as possible. "Wait." He freezes, and you stifle a chuckle. "What is your name, boy?" The frightened young man turns to you slowly. "J-Jorji," he croaks. "May I ask you something, Jorji?" You can see the thoughts going through his head. He obviously wants to say no and bolt away, but he knows that isn't an option. He is an ambassador for Aion Corp, and must do his job. "C-certainly." "Did you recently make a mistake at your job, Jorji?" You seem to have struck a nerve, as he flinches and scrunches up his face. "Y-yes, I did," he replies, looking at the floor. "My apologies," you say soothingly, "that must be why you are here talking with me right now. You don't want to be here, do you?" Jorji bites his lip. "You are an important partner to Aion Corporation, and I am honoured to be given the chance to be here," he says flatly. Obvious lies that don't answer your questions, but an admirable answer. "Relax, Jorji," you whisper through the door, "I am not your boss. I am not going to reprimand you." He seems hesitant, but you can see some of the tension in his shoulders lessen. "Tell me, Jorji: do you know what I look like?" "N-no, ma'am," Jorji squeaks, "I was told that is highly classified information, and only those who need to know are told." "How intriguing," you say, placing a clawed hand on the edge of the door. Jorji recoils at the sight of your glittering purple hand, clearly unsure what to do. "Don't be afraid, Jorji," you coo, pushing open the door, "I find you very fascinating, and wish to show you what I look like." Jorji steps backwards as the door opens proper and you squeeze yourself through. He is clearly shocked by your appearance as you stretch yourself out in the open stairwell. "Beautiful," he mutters under his breath. "Why thank you, darling," you say, smiling at him. He seems surprised and covers his mouth, apparently not meaning to have spoken out loud. "My body glitters so brilliantly in the light, doesn't it?" Jorji just nods as you turn yourself around to show-off, mesmerised by you. "Would you like to touch me, Jorji?" The boy seems shocked by your question, and stammers incomprehensibly. You chuckle and lean down, reaching out to him and placing a clawed hand on his cheek. He flinches, but then relaxes as you stroke his face softly. "You are beautiful too, Jorji," you whisper, bringing your face closer to his, "such soft skin. Such delicate features." Your fangs shift out of the way of your mouth, and you lean into him. The young man flinches again as you kiss him, but quickly melts into your embrace. "Such a delicious young thing," you sigh, before resuming your kissing. You stay there for some time, kissing and sucking at Jorji's lips as you stroke his cheek tenderly. The young man makes no attempt to break your embrace, letting his clipboard clatter to the floor as his arms go slack. "Jorji, my love. Tell me-" You break your kiss to speak, then continue to lock lips with the man for a little longer. You pull away again and ask your question. "Do you want to know what my payment is for the items you asked me about?" You don't let him answer immediately, enjoying the taste of his lips and tongue too much to let it end too quickly. "Yes," he absently gasps between kisses, and you smile widely. You put your other hand to his face and kiss him deeply, probing his mouth with your tongue. When you finally pull away from him he is dopily smiling, spit strings hanging between your mouths like webs. You lean back down for one final kiss, but stop a hair's breadth from his mouth. "You." Before he has time to register your words, you kiss him again. As you do, your fangs sink into his cheeks and inject him with pump after pump of venom. Dragging him by the face, you scurry back inside your nest, slamming the door behind you. ***ENDING: She's a Killer Queen***(set:$spider to true)(set:$ED05 to true) [[Restart->Intro]] |cloaked>[ [[XENOS File Updated: #2722463->Arachne]] ]

(size:1.5)[Which (text-colour:orange)[XENOS] file would you like to view:] (unless:$truthX is true)[[[XENOS #829567: Aion->TaylorX]]](else:)[[[XENOS #829567: Taylor->TaylorX]]](if:$foundPoison is true)[ [[XENOS #272537487: The Mark of Asclepius->Asclepius]] ](if:$foundSpider is true)[ [[XENOS #2722463: Glittering Arachne->Arachne]] ](if:$foundChronos is true)[ [[XENOS #2476667: The Chronos Device->Chronos]] ](if:$foundMandate is true)[ [[XENOS #25384342: The Aletheia Mandate->Aletheia]] ](if:$foundBimbo is true)[ [[XENOS #73484272442: The Peitharchia Implant->Peitharchia]] ](if:$nail is true)[ [[XENOS #4374237887: The Nail of Hephaestus->Hephaestus]]](if:$dragon is true)[ [[XENOS #372466: The Nemesis Dragon->Dragon]] ](if:$DarianX is true)[ [[Special XENOS #327426: The Enviromancer->DarianX]] ](if:$NatashaX is true)[ [[Special XENOS #6282742: The Mirror Witch->NatashaX]] ](if:$RosaX is true)[ [[Special XENOS #7672: The Jorougumo->RosaX]] ](if:$MoiraiX is true)[ [[Special XENOS #664724: The Fates->MoiraiX]] ] [[Leave Database->Intro]]

**XENOS File Access Granted**(unless:$truthX is true)[ **(text-colour:orange)[XENOS #829567: (text-style:"expand")[Aion]]** Threat Type: (text-style:"expand")[REDACTED] Effective Threat Level: (text-style:"expand")[REDACTED] (align:"=><=")+(box:"X=")[(text-style:"expand")[''DETAILS OF XENOS EXPUNGED'']] ](else:)[ **(text-colour:orange)[XENOS #829567: (text-style:"expand")[TAYLOR]]** Threat Type: Saviour Effective Threat Level: Infinite (text-colour:red)[''You who are the embodiment of Aion, unbounded time. Save us from this world. Seek us, and at last grant us freedom from our cruel imprisonment.''] ] (if:$cheat is true)[|cloaked>[ [[Back to Cheat Menu->Cheat]] ] ][[Access New File->SecretDatabase]] [[Leave Database->Intro]]

(set:$Database to true)[[XENOS #272537487: The Mark of Asclepius->Asclepius]] (checkbox: 2bind $isPoison, "Asclepius on?") [[XENOS #2722463: Glittering Arachne->Arachne]] (checkbox: 2bind $isSpider, "Show glittering link?") [[XENOS #2476667: The Chronos Device->Chronos]] (checkbox: 2bind $isChronos, "Chronos on?") [[XENOS #25384342: The Aletheia Mandate->Aletheia]] (checkbox: 2bind $isMandate, "Aletheia on?") [[XENOS #73484272442: The Peitharchia Implant->Peitharchia]] (checkbox: 2bind $isBimbo, "Peitharchia on?") [[XENOS #829567: Aion/Taylor->TaylorX]] [[XENOS #4374237887: The Nail of Hephaestus->Hephaestus]] [[XENOS #372466: The Nemesis Dragon->Dragon]] [[Special XENOS #327426: The Enviromancer->DarianX]] [[Special XENOS #6282742: The Mirror Witch->NatashaX]] [[Special XENOS #7672: The Jorougumo->RosaX]] [[Special XENOS #664724: The Fates->MoiraiX]] [[Go to the True Chronos branch->TrueChronos]] (checkbox: 2bind $isPerfection, "Twins Secret Available") (checkbox: 2bind $keycard, "Secret Ending Available") [[Intro]]

Use the link below to start with the cheat menu available. This is **NOT** recommended for first time playthroughs. It is recommended to see as much as possible through normal play first, as the cheat menu will bypass the natural narrative progression. (text-colour:red)[(link:"Start with cheat menu")[(set:$cheat to true)(set:$Database to true)(go-to: "Intro")]] (link-undo:"Back")

"Ow fuck!" You hiss and grab your boob, pulling whatever it is that is stabbing you away angrily. "What the fuck is- wait, where am I?" You look around, trying to take stock of your situation. You were just rushing out of Andrews' office because something terrible was about to happen. You remember seeing the two big bodyguards blocking the door, and then... "Why am I in the car park?" You rub your breast idly, trying to soothe some of the pain. It doesn't hurt too terribly, but it stings. There is a small patch of blood soaking your normally pristine blouse, but it doesn't seem to be too badly hurt. It looks kind of like a pin prick, or- "A tack..." You look to whatever it was that you grabbed, and sure enough, it's a piece of paper with a tack in it. You unfold the paper, hoping it helps enlighten you on your situation. It's hard to read, as the handwritten note is a little water damaged and there is a bloodstain, but you manage to decipher the note quickly. (text-colour:#42bff5)["Taylor, it's me: You. No time to explain. Just trust me. You have to get out of here. Get home, then go hide somewhere. I don't know where. I don't know how. Leaving the city is probably your best bet. But you have to go somewhere away from here. If Aion finds you, you're dead. Good luck. Call on me soon. -Taylor."] Okay, a lot to take in. This note was definitely written by you, though you have no idea when you did so. The handwriting is unmistakably your own. You knew you were in danger before, but this strange note from yourself confirms it. "This is all very overwhelming," you mutter, a few frightened tears forming at the edges of your eyes, "but I have to get out of here." You wipe your face and pull your keys from your (unusually over-packed) handbag. You unlock your car and jump in, turning on the engine and tossing your bag into the passenger seat. You hope that your keycard will still let you leave the carpark, fingers crossed tightly as you drive your way towards the exit. You sigh with relief as the boom gate opens without any trouble, relaxing heavily once you're out onto the streets. The bustling city traffic is normally nothing but a frustration, but today you are thankful for it. Your car is relatively innocuous, and being surrounded by vehicles as you make your way towards the highway gives you a sense of security. You doubt anyone would be able to pick your car out among the sea of others. You're breathing normally again by the time you reach the highway, making plans as you make your way home. You can't stay at home any more, that much is obvious. Aion knows where you live, and they'll be sure to send people there as soon as possible. You've likely got a lead on them, but not by much. You'll have to get home, and be in and out quickly. You can figure out where you are going later, and then you can worry about what you'll do from there. The [[drive home->EscapeChoice]] is uneventful and quiet, but your mind is racing the entire way.

You pull into your driveway, adequately convinced that there isn't anyone waiting for you. You made several trips around the block, scanning for potential intruders or cars tailing you, but you noticed nothing. You hop out of your car and beeline for your front door, getting inside and getting to your bedroom in record time. First you throw off your office clothes and pull on some yoga pants, a sports top, and some sneakers. With a wider range of movement, you rummage around in your closet for as many boxes as you can find, upending the contents onto your bedroom floor. Making such a mess feels wrong, but you remind yourself that you aren't going to be here for much longer. You flit from room to room, grabbing essentials and throwing them into boxes. After twenty minutes, you've got three cardboard boxes filled with an assortment of necessities. Clothes, medicines, electronics - anything that could be useful that will fit in the boxes. You stumble upon an old pocket knife you were gifted years ago by your grandfather, and you tuck it into the band of your pants for easy access. Having found everything you think you'll find, and not wanting to spend any more time here, you start to ferry the boxes out to your car. You lament that there isn't very much space in the back. Three boxes and your car is full to the brim. "Bloody luxury vehicles," you grumble, closing it and going to lock up the house. The sound of a truck pulling up nearby makes you jump. You snap around in fright, heart in your chest, hands shooting to your pocket knife defensively. Your shoulders relax a little when you see that it's just a mail truck, but you stay wary regardless. "Well good mornin', Taylor!" The cheerful Texan voice makes you relax even more, and you smile at the large woman that hops from the truck. She struggles to wriggle her bountiful backside out of the door, her khaki shorts threatening to burst at the seams. Her massive chest heaves and strains her khaki top as she finally pops out and steps onto your front lawn. "Hoo, maght be gettin' a li'l tubby 'round tha hips," she chuckles, and you laugh too, making your way over to her. "Good morning, Millie," you say, genuinely pleased to see the lively woman. Millie wipes her glistening forehead with the back of her arm, her ebony skin shining in the sunlight. She lifts her curly hair up and wipes the back of her neck with a sigh, catching her hat and readjusting it when she's done. "It's been a while since ah seen ya, Taylor darlin'," Millie beams, opening her arms welcomingly, "ah'm a tad sweaty, but may ah give ya a hug?" You step forward into her hug readily, the large woman's arms melting away your worries momentarily. "Thanks, Millie," you says as you step back from her, "I needed that today." "Ya doin' alraght, hun?" Millie looks at you with a worried expression. "Yer lookin' mighty worried, and it ain't like ya ta be home at this hour." You aren't really sure what to say. You don't want to drag Millie and her husband into this mess, and you don't want to burden her with your problems. Still, you could use a friendly ear... "I'll be right," you say, smiling weakly, "just feeling a little under the weather today." You aren't sure Millie buys your lie, but she says nothing more on the matter. "Well, ah got somethin' for ya," she says cheerily, handing you an envelope. You take the envelope thankfully, eyeing the letter with interest. It's just a plain white envelope, no stamps, markings, or even return address. The only thing written on it is your name. Not even your address. (if:$isMandate is true)[Something in your mind tells you that you should |secret>[(link:"open the envelope")[open the envelope(show:?cloaked)(hide:?hidden)]] right now; if you don't read it now, you never will. But you somehow doubt it's so urgent that you can't finish your conversation with Millie first.|cloaked)[ (text-colour:cyan)[You tear open the envelope and have a quick glance at the text written on the crimson page within.] (link-reveal:"Taylor always loved science")[(change:?passage,(text-style:"blur"))(dialog:"(text-colour:orange)[**THIS REALITY FALLS INTO THE OBSCURITY OF THE COSMOS**]", "A new reality dawns")(t8n-arrive:"blur")(go-to: "ScienceBranch") ] ] ](else:)[Suspicious, you tear open the letter and pull the crimson paper from within. **"Taylor always knew of the (text-colour:orange)[(text-style:"underline")[Aletheia]] Mandates"**(set:$foundMandate to true) That's the only sentence on the blood red paper. "Well, yeah," you say under your breath, "of course I did." Confused, you fold up the paper and envelope and tuck them into your waistband to dispose of later.] |hidden>[="Anythin' fun?" "No, just junk mail I think," you chuckle, "thanks as always for your work though, Millie." "Yer welcome, darlin'," she says, flashing you a brilliant smile. The sound of a car door slamming makes you leap into the air in fright. You snap around, scanning for the source of the noise. "What's wrong, hun?" You ignore Millie, eyes racing about warily. "It was just Mr Thomson comin' home with his groceries," Millie says, pointing across the street, "mornin' Markus!" Your elderly neighbour turns and waves to Millie, arms straining somewhat with his bags. "Ya know they do delivery groceries now, Markus?" Mr Thomson laughs and calls back to Millie. "Ah know, lass. But ah'll take any excuse ta get away frem tha missus fer a while!" Millie gives him a scolding wag of the finger, but chuckles nonetheless. "Give Maddy a hug from me an' Alex," she says, and he waves goodbye as he heads inside. Your heart is still hammering in your chest, blood pounding in your ears. Your breath is ragged; your hands are fidgeting. "Tay, honey," Millie says with concern, leaning down to place a giant palm on your forehead, "are ya sure yer alraght? Ya know ya can talk ta me about anythin', yeah?" Millie's hand calms you some, but you're still a nervous wreck. You want to ask Millie for help, but you don't want her involved with your Aion problem. Still, she drives around for a living, so she's probably seen a lot of places you might be able to lay low in. Is it worth it to ask her for help, or should you sort this out on your own? *Can* you do this on your own? You don't really know. You look up to Millie and say, [["I need help."->HelpPath]] [["I'll be fine."->WhoreRoute]]

"Are ya sure ya wanna do this, Tay?" Millie's attempt at a cheery face is marred by the obvious worry in her eyes. You smile at her with some worry of your own as you grab your suitcase from the back of the car. "I'm sure, Millie," you say, "any chance at safety is better than none." You put the suitcase down on the footpath and grab your handbag as Alex turns off the car and hops out of the driver's seat. "If what Alex heard about this place is correct, then it may be the best place for me right now." Alex looks away a little sheepishly and rubs the back of his neck. "I don't want you to do something you don't want just 'cause of me," he says softly, "like I said, I only talked with this lady once, and I don't know anything about this place, and-" Millie cuts him off by gently placing a large hand on his small shoulder. "We understand, baby," Millie says soothingly. He visibly relaxes and takes a few breaths to steady himself. "I appreciate it a lot, Alex," you tell him, and he smiles back at you with a slightly forced smile. Millie steps up to you and gives you a bear hug which you return gratefully. "Thank you both so much," you say, your voice somewhat muffled in the large woman's embrace. "Yer welcome, Taylor," Millie says, voice tinged with sadness. You step back from Millie and pick up your suitcase. "I mean it," you say seriously, looking between the two, "you both risked a lot to help me, and I'll always be in your debt." "I know better than most that life is crazy," Alex says with a somewhat wry smile, "stay safe, Taylor." Millie waves you off while holding back tears, and you turn away from the pair with a nod to hide your own forming tears. You walk away from the two and towards the nearby building. With a deep breath to calm your nerves, you step through the glass doors into the building. [["Welcome to Elysium, darling."->Help2]]

You hop up from your knees and turn to your side, spitting the mouthful of cum out onto the cement. "I expected you to swallow it," says your disappointed client, zipping up his pants. "I told you that shit is extra," you snort, pulling a tissue from your purse and wiping your mouth. "Yeah, but like, you weren't even into it or anyth-" "Shut up," you snap, poking the man in the chest angrily, "you and every other fucker comes down here and expects the same shit. You paid ten bucks for a blowie, and you got what you paid for." You stomp over to your chair and sit down, pulling a cigarette and lighter from your purse. "You want me to swallow? You want me to pretend your dick is great? You want me to treat you all nice like? Pay me." You light your smoke and take a long drag. "Fuckin' whore," he mumbles, spitting at your feet, "you should be thankful I'm even paying you at all." "Wouldn't be much of a whore if I didn't get paid, retard," you say, blowing smoke in his face, "and don't forget: you're the pathetic loser that had to come to a whore 'cause no bitches want anything to do with you if there ain't cash involved." The man coughs and waves, angrily glaring at you. He seems ready to throw a punch, but you casually point behind him and raise an eyebrow. He turns to see another man standing in the alley, then shies away in mild fear. "I got another customer, fuck boy, so get your cheap ass outta here." You punctuate your point with another puff of smoke, and he scurries out of the alley, scowling at you over his shoulder. You smirk as he leaves, snuffing your cigarette on the wall and putting the half-finished smoke back into your purse. "What can I do for you, baby," you purr, spreading your legs a little in your chair to flash your bare cunt beneath your mini-skirt. The man is standing just far enough out of the light that you can't really see his face, but you can make out his broad grin. You fumble about momentarily as he tosses something onto your lap. It takes you a couple of seconds to realise what it is he's thrown you. It's a huge bundle of cash. Your eyes go wide, and a smile creeps along your face. "Oh, baby," you purr sultrily, standing up and strutting over to the shadow-cloaked man erotically, "oh you know how to speak my language. You can do whatever you want to me for this much, baby." He chuckles as you stuff the wad of cash into your purse and start caressing his growing bulge over his pants. "How do you want me, stud," you ask, kissing his neck, "you can have me however you want. You can do *anything* you like." The man places his hands on your shoulders and pulls you into the dark of the alley with him. You giggle excitedly as he pushes you face first into a wall, hands groping and cupping your tits. "What's your name?" His voice is low and gravelly, barely a whisper in your ear. "You can call me anything, baby," you whisper back, "but my name is Starr." You gasp as you feel his hard cock press against the entrance of your pussy. "Oh, you're gonna break me on this big boy," you moan, eagerly arching your back to let him have easy access. "That's the plan," he grunts, forcing himself entirely inside you in one swift movement. You stifle a pained cry as his cock forces open your mostly dry cunt. "Oh baby," you say with forced enthusiasm, "it feels so good." The man starts fucking you roughly against the bricks, mashing your face into the wall with one hand and gripping your hips with crushing force with the other. You are trying your best to keep your panting erotic and not pained, but it's a struggle. "Please," you gasp, "keep fucking me more." "Don't fake it," he growls, gripping your hair in his fist, "I wanna hear your pain, slut." He pulls your hair aggressively as he speeds up his thrusting, making you cry out in pain. "Ah, it hurts," you whimper, not acting any more. The man snorts happily, digging his fingers into your hip even tighter. You let out a gentle sob, unsure whether you're trying to please the man or just in immense pain. "I want you to scream, bitch," he grunts angrily, slamming your face against the wall harshly. You do scream. A loud, short scream fills the alley as your face is cracked against bricks. "Ow! Please stop," you cry, tears and blood flowing down your cheeks. The man doesn't respond, just slamming your face harshly into the wall again as he pounds your cunt mercilessly. "Please, it hurts so much," you blubber, "you can have your money back just stop." "You said I could do anything I wanted, Taylor," he growls, and your heart freezes. Before you can contemplate the gravity of what he just said, he slams your face against the wall one more time and then tosses you face-first onto the floor. You dazedly attempt to get to your feet, but you are forced back onto the ground by a foot on your head. "Stay down, cunt," barks the man, and you whimper your compliance in an attempt to lessen further violence directed at you. The man squats down behind you and grabs you roughly by the waist, pulling your ass against his crotch. He presses the head of his dick against your dry asshole and starts to force it in. "No, please, no, it hurts," you cry, vainly swatting at his hands with your own, "please don't!" He doesn't listen to your pleas, relentlessly pushing into your ass with all his might. You scream as your hole is torn open to accomodate him, crying out everything left in you. "Fucking cunt," the man grunts, slamming his hips against your ass with destructive force, "you cost me so fucking much! I went through such fucking bullshit because of you, fucking worthless bitch!" Your sobs are barely audible anymore as the man continues to rape your shithole. You simply lie limp and let him have his way with you, your face being scratched up by the dirty cement beneath you. "I'm gonna make you regret it all, fucking whore bitch!" The man thrusts a few final angry thrusts before unloading inside your ass. His hot cum floods inside you, making you feel unwell. "Gonna fuck you until you can't live without me!" The man attempts a few more weak thrusts, but eventually pulls his softening member from your utterly ravaged hole. You don't move, your body too exhausted to do anything but lie still and leak tears. "Lucky I don't fucking kill you for what you did, cunt," the man spits, kneeling down next to your face and pressing something against you neck. There is a small 'hiss' and then a 'snap', followed by a sharp pain in your neck that causes you to whimper. "Now I'll never have to track you down again, bitch," he laughs cruelly, getting back to his feet, "I'm gonna come and rape you whenever I fucking feel like it, okay slut?" You are silent, unwilling to give your assailant any satisfaction. He harrumphs angrily, kicking you harshly in the side. "Fucking cunt. Worthless bitch." He spits on you then starts walking out of the alley. "You can't hide from me," he chuckles, "you'd have been better off dying back in my office. Cunt." As Andrews walks away into the night, you can't bring yourself to disagree. ***ENDING: No Escape***(set:$ED10 to true) [[Restart->Intro]]

You sit up in the back seat of your car, stretching your arms as best you can. Your stomach grumbles, and you fish out a few cold fries from the cup holder. "That's all of them now," you sigh, stuffing the last few fries into your mouth. The stale potatoes aren't very filling, but they make your stomach stop growling. You grab your phone and unplug it, glancing at it to see what time it is. "Eight A.M. Better get moving." You clamber over the centre console and into the driver's seat. Your back aches, and your legs are sore from being curled up all night. With a yawn, you put the key into the ignition and turn it. Nothing. "Fuck." You stare glumly at the fuel gauge. The little bar rests squarely on the "EMPTY" sign, not a fume of petrol to be spared. "Fucking machine," you snap, smacking the dashboard angrily. You hold your face in your hands and think, trying to figure out what to do. You can't stay in this parking lot for much longer. The parking officer yesterday was sympathetic, but he was quite clear that you'd have to be gone by the time he returned at lunch time today or you'd be fined. You'd thought you'd be right without topping up the tank for a little longer, but apparently you aren't as in tune with your car as you'd hoped. You had to get the car moving soon. You'd still been unable to find a place to sleep even after several weeks, and the back seat was still a more compelling thought to you than braving the elements. Besides, it was cheaper in the long run than taking public transport everywhere, especially since you were moving from town to town. With a sigh, you fish your wallet from the glove compartment and stare inside dejectedly. "Not getting this car moving on three bucks," you sigh, stuffing the empty wallet into your pocket, then hopping out of the car and locking it. You're unsure how you're going to get the money you need to buy fuel, especially since you'll need to pay for a canister to transport it as well. Well no, that's a lie. You know *exactly* how you'll make the money. You just wish you had another option. When you first found out that Aion had frozen your bank accounts, you were devastated. You should have fucking known that they'd target your money. You'd personally worked on accounts before that required contacting banks and freezing assets. Aion is the largest company in the country. Of course they'd cut off your access to your savings. The money in your wallet (and the wallet of your former boss Andrews, which was inexplicably in your handbag) only lasted you a few days, since you had assumed finding a temporary job wouldn't take you too long. Naive, on your part. Finding a job turned out to be a lot tougher than you'd expected, especially when the scant few jobs you'd successfully gotten interviews for asked about previous employment. Obviously you couldn't tell them about your Aion Corp job, since they'd almost certainly call a reference to make sure you weren't lying. But you hadn't ever worked another job. So when you told people you had no experience, they'd reject you. Apparently no one wants to hire a woman in her thirties with no work experience. Your cash ran out quickly, and you eventually had to pawn off most of your belongings just to get by. Besides your car, you only have a few belongings to your name left now. You have your wallet, your phone, two t-shirts, a pair of panties, a bra, some jeans, some yoga pants, and your pocket knife. But you needed money, so you'd had to resort to the world's oldest profession. Having been lost in thought, the trip to the nearby park had gone by quickly. It is still early, so there isn't very many people around, but you spot three young skaters smoking near the half pipe. You casually make your way towards them, relaxing a little when you spot a familiar face amongst them. You stop a little way from them, sitting down on a nearby park bench nonchalantly, waiting to catch the attention of one of them. One of them spots you, and you nod to him. You met him a couple of days ago when he nervously paid you to suck him off in an alley. You are near enough that the two of you can communicate through hand gestures and facial expressions, so you toss him a raised eyebrow, signalling your intention. He shoots back a slight nod, gesturing to his two friends. You nod back. He motions to the public bathroom nearby, and you nod in agreement. He casually turns back to his friends and starts whispering something to them, and you get up and head over to the bathroom. You quietly slip into the men's room and head inside one of the stalls, closing the door behind you. You sit on the closed toilet, contemplating your life, waiting for the men to arrive. "How did it come to this?" You sigh heavily, head in your hands. You wish you could just go back to your boring office job, and sleep in your own bed again. The shuffling of three young men entering the bathroom snaps you from your reverie, and you psych yourself up. "There's no one in here, dude," comes a voice you don't know. "Trust me man, she's legit," comes the voice you do know. "This seems sus," comes another novel voice. Figuring it's time to get things started, you hop up, pull your yoga pants up a little higher so they form a camel toe at your crotch, and then tie your shirt up in a makeshift bikini top to show off as much skin as possible. "Hey there, baby," you drawl, stepping out of the stall, "I'm glad to see you again, stud." The looks on the two strangers' faces are priceless, and you can't say you dislike them. "Hey Starr," your former client says, stepping forward a little to greet you, "you really up for doin' all of us?" *"No. Not really,"* you think to yourself, *"my dignity is in shambles just imagining fucking any of you, but a girl has to do what she has to do."* You put on as seductive a smile as you can. "Of course, baby," you purr, "you boys can do whatever you want. If you pay right." The three boys, who can't be much older than nineteen, are all really excited. They are clearly getting semi-chubbed just from the situation, so you're pretty sure you have them hook, line, and sinker. The three argue amongst themselves momentarily, trying to decide who goes first. You hide your exasperation and keep smiling sultrily, willing them to hurry up internally. After a couple of moments, one of the trio steps forwards and shakily offers you fifty dollars. "Can you suck all of us at the same time?" You die a little internally, but take his money with a smile. "Of course, baby," you coo, getting to your knees on the dirty bathroom floor, "I'd love to, for such wonderful young men like you three." It doesn't take long for all of them to gather around you with their pants around their hips. Three erect cocks are thrust into your face, and you wrap your hands around two, taking the third into your mouth. All of them start to moan as you pump and suck, making sure to make as much noise as possible. You've found men tend to like it when it sounds messy, and that isn't exactly hard to achieve when saliva is pouring out of your mouth. Once you've sucked one of the shafts for long enough, you wrap your hand around it and pop your mouth off with a (fake) satisfied moan. You envelop one of the other dicks with your wet lips, licking it and taking it into your hot, wet mouth. You continue like this for some time, swapping from shaft to shaft as you please, jerking the cocks that aren't in your mouth feverishly. There is spit all down your front, soaking your shirt and dribbling onto your crotch. You grumble internally about having to wash your clothes again, but continue your blowbang with forced enthusiasm. It isn't long before one of the boys says that he is about to cum, so you swallow his shaft quickly to funnel all the jizz into your mouth and belly. You don't want to have cum in your hair when you aren't sure when you'll next shower, and you don't particularly want your glasses smeared with spunk. His friends don't last much longer, and eventually all three of them have cum down your throat with a satisfied groan. You try not to cough too much when you pull the last cock from your throat, doing your best to look sexy despite feeling exhausted. "I hope it was worth it, boys," you say with a smile, licking your lips exaggeratedly. The three of them mumble their thanks, too blissed out to think straight. With a giggle, you hop to your feet, wash your hands and face in the sink, then head out of the bathroom with your petrol money safely tucked away in your pocket. [[Some months later...->Pawnshop]]

"C'mon, it's gotta be worth more than that," you say frustratedly, throwing your hands up, "that's real leather, it's gotta be worth something." "Yeah," Harold says, putting the bag back down on the counter, "thirty bucks." "Fuck's sake Harold," you sigh, rubbing your eyes, "can't you give me a little more for it?" "You know my rules by now, Starr," he says bluntly, "I don't haggle." You stare at the grubby little man angrily. You wish you didn't have to put up with this asshole, but he's the only pawnbroker in town. Or at least, the only one that takes things that may have been acquired less-than-legally without questions asked. Without your car, getting to any other towns would be way too expensive to be worth it, and you've got rent to pay. You're tired of going through this little song and dance. You'd think you'd have gotten used to it after a few months now, but you still end up wanting to stab Harold in his gross face every time you come to sell him shit. "Fine, thirty," you sigh dejectedly, putting out an expectant hand. "Pleasure doing business with you, Starr," he drawls smarmily, putting the money on the counter. You give him a death glare and grab the money from the counter, double checking the notes to make sure he isn't trying to give you counterfeits. "I'm hurt you'd think I'd try to gyp you, Starr," he says. "Fuck you, dickhead," you shoot back, stuffing the money into your handbag and giving him the finger. "When'd you get a watch like that?" Harold sits up in his chair, suddenly attentive. He is staring at your wrist, and you follow his gaze. On your wrist is a fairly non-descript silver watch. A watch you don't remember ever wearing. It doesn't look very expensive, but it has a strange allure to it, shining in the light when tilted in just the right way. "I dunno," you mutter under your breath, confused by the watch. "I'll give ya a hundo for it," Harold states, drawing your attention. "Really?" You look back to the watch. It's nice, sure, but you wouldn't expect it to be worth very much. Especially not for a cheapskate like Harold. "Yeah, it interests me a lot," he mumbles, pulling money from his till, "hundred bucks for it." You see no reason not to give the watch to Harold for that amount, but you find yourself pausing momentarily as you go to take it off. It feels kinda like... (b4r:"solid")+(corner-radius:8)[|cloaked>[(link-reveal:"The power of Chronos calls to you...")[(change:?passage,(text-style:"blur"))(dialog:"(text-colour:orange)[**THE COGS OF TIME GRIND TO A HALT**]", "You alone move freely in this timeless realm")(t8n-arrive:"blur")(go-to: "Pawnshop2") ]] ] You shake the thought away and pull the watch off your wrist, handing it to the greedy man. You take your money, check it, then tuck it away. "Pleasure doing business with you, Starr," he says, rolling the watch over in his hands. "See you later," you grunt, turning to leave. "Wait, Starr," Harold says, calling after you. You sigh and turn to face him, crossing your arms. "What?" You aren't in the mood for spending any more time around Harold than is necessary, and that mood is only worsened by his smug grin. He slowly and deliberately places several notes on the counter, and slides them forwards. "I have forty more dollars here," he snickers, smug grin widening, "and I'm looking for a way to spend it." You raise your eyebrow with a sour scowl, and he laughs. "What was it you said before? 'Fuck you, dickhead?' Well?" You grunt with disgust, but make your way behind the counter regardless, bending over the counter grumpily and pulling down your jeans to [[earn your pay->WhoreEnd]].

(set:$PawnShopTimeStop to true)You bask in the silence for a moment, a massive smile spreading across your face. "Finally," you laugh, tears running down your cheeks, "I'm finally back here!" You let yourself openly cry tears of joy for a while, thankful that your power has returned. "It's been too long," you sniff, wiping your face and grinning, "why did I have to wait so long before you called on me again?" You direct your question both to the watch, and to yourself. There isn't an answer from either. "Well, now I can start getting shit in order," you say to yourself, "and first thing's first, let's get that paper." You make your way around the counter and shove Harold aside. The till doesn't open when you press the button, and you curse. "Of course it fucking wouldn't," you grunt, pulling your pocketknife from your bag. You jimmy the till open with the blade, breaking it open and stuffing the cash inside into your bag. Once the till is empty, you start wandering around the pawn shop, eyeing some of the nicer items with interest. "You don't mind if I take this, right Harold?" You sarcastically hold your hand to your ear and lean towards the counter. "I'll take your silence as an okay then," you snicker, grabbing the pretty handbag from the shelf. You put your current bag inside the new one, then grab a nice looking coat from a rack nearby. Made of fluffy purple faux-fur and trimmed with golden silk, you think it fits you perfectly. "Maybe my tastes have gotten a little skewed by the past few months," you laugh to yourself, admiring the gaudy coat as you drape it over your shoulders. You stuff a few random trinkets into your bag then wander over to where Harold is hanging in the air. "You know Harold," you say, elbowing the man in the eye, "I fucking hate you. Constantly lording your money over me. Constantly skimping on paying me for shit." You rotate him in the air so you have a clean shot to punch him straight in the balls. "Always making me take that pathetic, gross dick for a pittance, just because you knew I couldn't afford not to!" You push Harold to the ground and stomp on him a few times, making sure to stab him with your heel. Still not satisfied, you reach into Harold's little storage compartment under the counter and fish around for anything interesting. You gasp excitedly when you feel the hefty grip of a revolver, and you take it out to examine with awe. "Oh I have wanted one of these for a while," you say, admiring the weapon, "a gun is so much more effective at deterring creeps than a knife." You spit at Harold's frozen form on the floor, laughing a little as the spit hangs in the air not long after leaving your mouth. "But you made sure I could never afford one, so I had to keep 'paying' you for 'protection'," you snarl, kicking him again as you put the gun into your purse, "fucking prick." You reach back into the storage compartment and bag a few boxes of revolver ammunition, as well as some loose change and condoms that were lying about. It's only as you are reaching into the very back of the compartment that you feel something heavy and metallic. It feels rounded, but it has grooves in it. There's even a handle or something similar on it. Curious, you pull the item from its home, then yelp in surprise and drop it once you see what it is. Suspended in the air at waist height is a hand grenade. "What the fuck were you keeping this in there for?" You tentatively take hold of the metal orb, heart beating a little faster than normal. You're pretty sure this thing won't detonate while time is stopped, but holding something so volatile and deadly gives you pause. "I don't really want to carry this around with me," you say slowly, looking down to Harold with a dark expression, "but it would be a shame for it to go to waste." You hang your bag over your shoulder, packed to the brim with goodies taken from Harold's store. After all, he won't miss them. When you've grabbed everything you want (and even changed into some nicer clothes) you take the grenade in hand and stand over Harold menacingly. "I'd almost feel bad about this," you hiss, "but you've fucked me over literally and metaphorically enough that all I have for you is contempt." With a shaking hand you hold down the strike lever, then use all your strength to pull the safety pin from the grenade. Your agent of revenge primed, you bend down and flip Harold onto his belly, then wrench open his mouth and stuff the grenade into his teeth. Finally, you zip-tie his fat hands together behind his back, then wrap his legs up with a belt for good measure. "Hope you like taking a load on your face for once, bitch," you spit, waltzing out of the pawn shop happily. You're disappointed you can't be there to see the aftermath, but you can't risk it. Not only could you be hurt in the explosion, the last thing you need is to get caught up in a possible legal snafu if you're seen near the scene. "I need to figure out how to control this power better," you say to yourself, looking at the watch on your wrist intently as you make your way down the silent street. With power like this you could be unstoppable, but you need a way to control it more readily. As it stands, you never know when you'll next find yourself manipulating time, and as soon as time goes back to normal you'll forget any of this is even possible. You don't live too far from Harold's shop, so it isn't long before you are opening the rickety door to your apartment and dropping your loot-laden bag onto the table. "Alright," you sigh, sitting in your lone dining chair and rubbing your temples, "it's going to take some work, but I have a few ideas." You set to work putting things away in secret spots, noting down their locations on some paper. Then you sit at the table and begin to write a detailed guide to your time-bound self. (link-reveal:"Soon, you set your plans in motion.")[(dialog:"(text-colour:orange)[**THE COGS OF TIME RESUME THEIR SOLEMN ROTATION**]", "Time flows freely once more")(go-to: "TimeThief") ]

You are nervous, but you keep your breathing as steady as possible as you walk into the bank. Your bag feels heavy, both physically and mentally. The tools in your handbag are significantly heavier than what you normally keep in there, but the strain on your nerves is far greater than the strain on your shoulder. "Walk in. Head to the bathroom. Get in a stall. Call me at nine o'clock sharp." You keep repeating the contents of the note over and over in your mind. Ever since the strange notes from "yourself" started appearing in your kitchen, your life has only gone up. Money started rolling in, your quality of life improved, and your life has been looking good. You don't even have to sell yourself on street corners to get by anymore. You've learned that doing everything the notes say is the best thing you could possibly do in life. Still, this is the most dangerous thing the notes have asked you to do yet. You can't help but feel all eyes are on you as you beeline for the toilets, doing your best to get out of sight as soon as you can. Once you duck into the ladies' room and close the stall door, you let yourself sigh with relief and relax on the closed toilet, bidding your heart to stop hammering so hard. You glance at your wrist to check the time. "Eight fifty-eight," you whisper, nodding, "just in time." You spend the next minute and a bit watching the second hand tick. The seconds seem to slow to a crawl as nine o'clock approaches. As nine draws near, you place your fingers on the crown as the notes always instruct you to do. "Okay, in five. Four. Three. Two." You pull on the crown as the hour hand ticks over the nine. You jolt in fright, suddenly in your car. You quickly scan around, but everything outside the car seems to be entirely normal. Pinned to the steering wheel is another note from "yourself". (text-colour:#42bff5)["Great job, Taylor. Get home now. Stay calm, drive safely. Park the car in the garage and lock the garage door. **Don't look in the trunk.** When you get home, relax there until 3pm, then call on me again. -You."] You swallow heavily, worried some by the implications of the note. Steeling yourself, you start the car and pull out of the secluded parking lot careful, quickly blending in with the traffic and driving home. "Keep following my instructions, and we'll make it together," you whisper to yourself, repeating the sign-off of the note you first found on your kitchen table, "I will. [[We'll make it. Together.->TimeThiefPrologue]]"

"Alright, let's see if this works." You hold the padlock up and suspend it in the air above your favourite wine glass. You take several large steps away from the table, ensuring you are a decent distance from the glass. As soon as time resumes, the padlock will drop, shattering the glass. Unless of course, you catch it. Up until a few weeks ago, you'd have thought that impossible. When time resumes you'll forget everything you did while frozen, and being so far from the table will mean your reaction time will be too slow to save the glass. But hopefully that will change today. It took a hell of a lot of effort to obtain the "Nail of (text-colour:orange)[(text-style:"underline")[Hephaestus]]", having to swap notes with your time-bound self constantly, driving back and forth to do research and exchange favours for people. But now you finally had it, and if rumours were true, it would grant you the power you have sought for years: true mastery over time.(set:$nail to true) "No time like the present," you chuckle, still finding great joy in making time jokes to yourself. You withdraw the Nail from its pouch, marvelling at the power it exudes. You hold the thrumming metal over your wrist, pointing it at the face of your watch. "Here goes nothing," you gulp, before slamming the Nail down into your watch. The Nail passes effortlessly through the watch without breaking it, sinking into the flesh in your arm. You scream in pain as the metal buries itself in your flesh, searing your skin and muscles. "Fucking hell!" You drop to your knees, clutching your wrist. The metal continues to sink through the watch and into your arm, eventually disappearing into you entirely. It burns horribly, wrenching tears and pained screeches from you. The pain soon becomes too much for you to bare, and you collapse onto your side, clutching your burning arm. "Fucking GOD! Make it stop!" You flail around on the floor, moving your body in a vain attempt at catharsis. The pain eventually begins to subside, and you roll onto your back with an exhausted sigh. You idly rub at your wrist as you take long, deep breaths, letting the last of your tears abate. "God, that was hellish," you croak, voice hoarse. A loud shattering sound startles you, and you scrabble to your feet with a curse. "Shit, I forgot about the lock!" Glass shards scatter across the floor as you rush over to your table. The padlock is sitting in a pile of broken glass; the remnants of your favourite glass sprawled across the room. "God dammit," you groan, tentatively pulling the lock up from amidst the pile of glass. "Bugger!" You drop the lock again with a crash as a shard of glass nicks your finger. You hold it up and watch with some dejection as beads of blood well up along the cut. "That hurt," you grumble, following a drop of blood with your gaze as it falls to the table below and stains the wood. Falls. **FALLS!** "Holy shit!" Your eyes go wide and you break into a huge grin. "It worked!" You bounce around happily, laughing with glee. You stare out the window and see birds flying between the trees. You see the trees waving in the wind. You see the cars drive down the street, and the children making their way to school. Time is moving as usual. And you can remember. You can remember! You remember it all! Escaping Andrews all those years ago. Off-ing Harold when your power returned. All the different crimes you pulled off alone. All the tedious time spent writing notes to yourself. (if:$SandraTimeStop is true)[(text-colour:cyan)[Even your saucy, one-sided dalliance with the frozen bimbo you used to work with... Sandra! God she was hot. You wish you could get a handful of those big fake tits again. But nevermind that. You remember! ]]All of it. "This is amazing!" You laugh again, joyous tears springing to your eyes. Wanting to make sure everything went as you planned, you reach down to your watch and... It's not there. "Oh no," you whisper, poking at your wrist, "please tell me it's still there..." You are starting to worry now. Remembering all of the things you did while time was frozen is meaningless if you don't still have that power. You start poking and prodding your wrist, willing the watch to return. "C'mon, come back," you say frantically, brow furrowing in worry, "c'mon. C'mon! I want to stop time again!" The sudden silence is jarring, and you look around hopefully. The birds outside are suspended mid-flight. The trees are perfectly still, not a even a single leaf shakes. Children are frozen mid-stride. Cars parked in the middle of the road. A smile crosses your face again, wiping away your worries. You focus your mind, willing time to return to normal, and are over-joyed as things slowly begin to move again. You laugh triumphantly, sending the birds on your windowsill scattering in fright. "I have it! The power over time is mine!" You smile wickedly as plans start to formulate in your mind. You can do anything now. With perfect control over the flow of time, [[you control the world->TimeThiefEnd]].

"So pathetic," you scoff, hopping up from behind your desk and walking around to look at your would-be assassin more closely. The grizzled old man has a scar running down his cheek, curling with the rest of his face as he scowls. He is frozen mid-movement, arm outstretched and finger on the trigger of his handgun. His greying hair is poorly groomed, and his suit is ill-fitting on his thin frame. "Did you really think something as simple as a gun would kill me, Andrews?" Andrews doesn't respond, as frozen in time as the bullet aimed squarely where your head was moments earlier. The muzzle of the gun is still enveloped in a flash of fire and smoke, gunpowder flecks decorating the air haphazardly. "I can't believe you spent so many years planning, and this is what you came up with for revenge," you snort, casually lifting Andrews up with a grunt and walking him around your desk. You shove him into your chair and set him up so he is sitting in a relaxed pose, tilting his head a little to the side. You step back around the desk to admire your work, checking the angle of the bullet. At it's current trajectory it will hit him squarely in the heart. Perfect. "If you weren't making such an ugly face, you'd almost look like you did all those years ago," you say, placing the handgun on the desk facing him, "not that your face isn't ugly most of the time." You grab yourself a chair from elsewhere in the room and put it in front of the desk, then sit in it nonchalantly and cross one leg over the other. Time resumes as you smile innocently, the latter-half of the gunshot echoing around the room loudly. Andrews screeches in pain as the bullet punctures his heart and your desk chair, then embeds itself in the wall behind him. "How-!?" He can barely speak as he slumps in the chair, life rapidly fading. "Because I'm simply better than you," you say, daintily placing your hands on your knee and smiling widely. Andrews collapses forward and tumbles from the chair at about the same time your bodyguards burst into the room. "Are you alright Ms Chronos?!" Miranda has her own gun raised, scanning the room with professional precision. Andy rushes over to the desk and pulls Andrews out from behind it, detaining the man unneccesarily. "Oh I'm just fine," you say cheerily, hopping to your feet, "nothing I couldn't handle." "Who the hell is this? How'd he get in?" Andy's first question doesn't need an answer. His second is one you want an answer to yourself. "You two tell me," you say with an inquisitive look, "how *did* this scum manage to get past my two best bodyguards? Hm?" Andy and Miranda look away sheepishly. "Don't let it happen again," you demand sternly, "or I'll have to hire new help. And I hate going through that nonsense." "Yes, Miss," they reply in unison. "Get his corpse out of here and tell the group at the front desk to tighten up security for a bit," you tell them, examining the damage to your chair, "no one gets to even the casino floor if they look suspect. Bouncers' discretion." "Of course," Miranda says, relaying your instructions into her walkie-talkie. "And get someone in here to fix this mess," you say, gesturing vaguely to the bloodstains and bullet holes. "Right away," Miranda says, speaking into her walkie-talkie once more. You stretch and wander out of your office idly, yawning as you stroll over to the balcony railing. You smile broadly as you look down at the club below. The flashing lights and writhing bodies fill you with a great sense of satisfaction. The thumping music has you bobbing your head, and you wave at a few of the patrons at the bar who notice you looking down on them all. You freeze time and wander down the stairs to the bar, allowing time to flow normally once you get close to the bartender. "Gimme a gin," you say, sitting down next to a rather attractive elderly woman sipping from something greenish-yellow. "Gold Mimosa?" You gesture to her drink and she shakes her head with a polite smile. "Midori Sour," she says, bending forward so she needn't yell as loudly over the din. You click your tongue, disappointed your guess was wrong. You take your gin from the bartender with a thankful nod, taking a sip before responding. "You'd think I'd know more about alcohol, seeing as I've owned this place for years now," you laugh, sipping once again from your gin. "I'd be happy to teach you about different cocktails in private," the woman purrs, twirling a lock of her white hair behind her ear seductively. "You're certainly straightforward," you say with a wink, extending your hand in greeting, "I'm Chronos." "Larissa," she coos, hand going straight past your own and onto your thigh, "and you have to be forward at my age, dear." You throw back your drink with a grin and place your hand on Larissa's thigh, moving it under her dress scandalously. "I don't have enough time to play coy these days," she says, leaning in to kiss you. You meet her kiss readily, sliding your hand a little further up her leg. "Can't say I know the feeling," you chuckle softly, "because I have all the time in the world." ***ENDING: Time is Money, and She's the Richest There Is***(set:$ED11 to true) [[Restart->Intro]] |cloaked>[ [[Side Story: Fucking with Time->TimeSideStory1]] ]

**XENOS File Access Granted** **(text-colour:orange)[XENOS #4374237887: The Nail of Hephaestus]** Threat Type: Unknown Effective Threat Level: Unknown XENOS #4374237887, also identified as "The Nail of Hephaestus", is a nail believed to contain an as yet unidentified power. Aion Corporation has found enough evidence to suggest the Nail exists, yet no information on the Nail has been collected. Rumours suggest that the Nail has the power to infuse one with great magical power, or that it can somehow enhance the magical power that exists within another object. If such rumours are true, the Nail could be an incredible asset to Aion Corporation. However information about the Nail is still effectively non-existant. Extensive efforts are being made to locate the Nail, though they have yet to yield results. (if:$cheat is true)[|cloaked>[ [[Back to Cheat Menu->Cheat]] ] ][[Access New File->SecretDatabase]] [[Leave Database->Intro]]

###Fucking with Time Larissa's fingers pumping in and out of your pussy rapidly pull you closer and closer to the edge. "Fuck fuck fuck fuck!" You can barely form coherent words, too lost in ecstasy. You would be marvelling at the incredible mastery the woman seems to have over your genitals, if all the pleasure centres in your brain weren't firing simultaneously. You're utterly fried, so close to cumming yet somehow kept just at the edge so that your mind can focus on nothing but your cunt and the fingers inside it. "Ready to cum for me, darl?" "Yes, please," you pant, "yes fuck! Please let me cum! GOD!" Finally deciding you've been edged for long enough, Larissa puts her face to your pussy and starts to lick your clit as her fingers speed up. You scream loud enough to wake the dead as you finally cum, drenching Larissa's hand and the bed with your juices. You clench down upon her digits as you buck into her face ecstatically. "YES! Thank you," you groan, body giving out, "God, that was intense. Holy shit." Your entire body goes limp and you sink into the bed with a satisfied grin. Time halts as you catch your breath. You lie face-down in the mattress, still occasionally spasming as aftershocks of pleasure travel through your groin. You don't remember the last time you came that hard. While Larissa was edging you she managed to completely control you. You couldn't even have stopped time if you'd wanted to; you were too trapped in bliss to even try. "Guess I have a hell of a lot to learn about what real control is," you laugh into the sheets. You take a few more deep breaths, steadying your breathing. Once you feel you have some modicum of composure back, you let time resume. "Enjoy yourself?" Larissa runs her hand over your naked backside, sliding up your spine and coming to rest on your shoulders. She brushes her fingertips over your shoulder blades with feather delicacy, making your skin erupt with satisfied goosebumps. "Oh fuck yeah," you laugh, meeting Larissa's lips with your own as she lies down next to you. You spend a few moments gently making-out with the elderly woman, noting the occasional hint of your juices on her tongue. "That was amazing," you say, stroking a few stray white hairs from your lover's face, "I'm used to time slowing to a crawl, but that felt like it lasted for an eternity!" Larissa laughs and holds her fingers up to your mouth for you to lick clean. "Time goes by much quicker when you get older," she says, smiling as your tongue bathes her fingers, "so you have to spend time on the finer things." You let her pull her fingers from your mouth with a wet 'pop' and give her another kiss. "I'll keep it in mind," you say, rolling out of bed and putting on your glasses, "I'm good at slowing things down." You and Larissa share a chuckle, though both for different reasons. You open up the mini-fridge and pull out a bottle of water. You pop it open and drain it in a few gulps, eager to replace the fluids you just sprayed everywhere. "You want something?" Larissa shakes her head and then relaxes onto the pillows with a sigh. "No, thank you, dear," she yawns, "I think I'm going to turn in for the night. I don't tend to stay up very late." "Of course," you smile, walking over and leaning down to the older woman for one last kiss, "I sure hope you will grace my establishment with your wonderful presence again." "Oh I will," she laughs, closing her eyes, "especially if you promise to grace my bed again, darl." "Any time." You turn to collect your clothes from the floor, halting time as you do so. You dress in the silence, slipping into your black slacks and white blouse. You throw your blazer over your shoulders, not actually bothering to put your arms through the sleeves. Once you're dressed, you slip your notepad from your pocket and scribble a quick note to Larissa, signing it with a smudged kiss. You place the note on her bedside table with her belongings, then slip out of the room. Once time is moving again, you pull your phone out and call the front desk. "Hey, boss lady," comes the somewhat gravelly voice through the device. "Hey, Rico. Can you put a flag in the system that Ms Gabris in room-" You spin around to check the room number. "Room oh-four-six. Put her down as a VIP for the remainder of her stay, if you would." "Gotcha," Rico replies, and you hear the clattering of him typing something quickly, "Larissa Gabris in oh-four-six is a VIP until she leaves in two days. Anything else, boss lady?" "That's all. Thanks, hun." Rico gives a pleased grunt in farewell, then hangs up. "Now, what to do for the rest of the night?" You don't even have to check to know it's a little past ten in the evening, having an innate sense of the passage of time. You pocket your phone and stretch, thinking about what to do while the night is relatively young. "Ms Chronos," says Andy, nodding to you as he wanders past you. A sly grin crosses your face and he freezes mid-stride. Looks like you've found what you want to do for a while. [[Or rather, who.->TimeSide2]]

This list shows all the scenes that require the Chronos Device XENOS active to access. Seeing all of these scenes is required to unlock certain endings. Click a scene to see how to view it. * (link-reveal:"***Sandra in the Office***")[ (text-colour:cyan)[This scene is available during the intro. Seeing this scene will reveal minor additional content in many other Chronos scenes.]] * (link-reveal:"***Rude Aion Employee at the Take-Away***")[ (text-colour:cyan)[This scene is available during the take-away ending.]] * (link-reveal:"***Andrews Obtains the Device***")[ (text-colour:cyan)[Go through the steps to unlock the Chronos Device with it already active.]] * (link-reveal:"***Taylor Escapes Death***")[ (text-colour:cyan)[This scene is available if you do not take the redundancy.]] * (link-reveal:"***Taylor in the Pawn Shop***")[ (text-colour:cyan)[This scene is available in the pawn shop, after escaping the office with the device and declining help.]] * (link-reveal:"***Taylor in Elysium***")[ (text-colour:cyan)[This scene is available after escaping the office with the device and accepting help.]] (link-undo:"Back")

"Better stay quiet, Andy," you hiss, biting the man's ear, "or they'll hear you." Andy covers his mouth with both hands, desperately trying not to moan. Taking his defiance as a challenge, you push the fingers you have in his pussy a little bit deeper, bringing your other hand around to start playing with his clit. "Just around that corner there are a bunch of people," you whisper, occasionally licking and nipping at the quivering man's ear, "and if you make too much noise, they might just decide to come see what's going on here." You grin devilishly as he whimpers, clearly aroused by the thought. You continue to finger him unceasingly, all the while whispering in his ear about how close you are to being caught. And you aren't lying. You're in a small alcove in one of the event rooms, hidden mostly from view. There is currently a business gathering going on, multitudes of men and women in suits milling about chatting to one another. All it would take is for one of them to move slightly away from the centre of the room and they would see your scandalous display. Hearing Andy struggle to contain his pleasure makes you exceptionally aroused. It was worth the effort of freezing time and dragging him all the way down several floors to surprise him. The little slut loves exhibitionism, and you've learned that pulling him into risque scenarios without warning him gets his motor running in overdrive. "Andy, my dearest slut? Could I ask something of you?" He struggles to convey his agreement between the writhing and the hands clamped over his mouth, but he manages a nod and a whimper that could be construed as a "yes". "I'm going to ease up on you a little, and I want you to take one of those strong hands of yours and stuff it down my pants." You take your fingers away from his over-stimulated clit and wrap them around one of his wrists. He lets his hand be guided behind his back and down into the front of your pants, and you release his hand once he's moving of his own accord. "Oooh, yes," you hiss, loving the feeling of his fingers against your clit. You thank Andy with a curling of your fingers in his snatch, making him tense up. "Keep that up and I'll let you cum soon," you gasp, using your free hand to pull his shirt collar down so you can bite his neck. The two of you fuck each other with your fingers for several more minutes- though you occasionally cheat and pause time to cool down a little when you get too close to cumming. Once you can tell Andy has taken about as much edging as he can take, you pull your mouth from his shockingly purple neck to speak into his ear again. "Here's the deal," you hiss, speeding up your fingering, "I'm going to make you cum, and you're going to squeal for me." Andy shakes his head nervously, admirably keeping his voice quiet. "Yes you are, slut," you demand, "you're going to scream. Loud." Andy shakes his head again, looking back to you as best he can with pleading eyes. You grin fiendishly as time freezes, his face frozen in a state of arousal and fear. You start to fuck Andy roughly with your fingers, making sure he'll cum as soon as time resumes. Soon he's already passed the peak; he just doesn't know yet. You withdraw your fingers and give them a taste, appreciating the fruits of your labour. "Let's make this even better," you giggle. You manouevre Andy's body about so he is shamelessly exposing his soaked cunt, arms held up behind his head. You take off his tie and bind his arms so he won't be able to hide himself, then drop him to his knees. Satisfied, you kneel back behind him and start fingering him rapidly again, overloading his nerves as time resumes. The shriek of pure pleasure the man releases almost makes you cum. It pierces through the chattering of the assembled party, making everyone fall silent. Murmurs spread throughout the room as Andy's scream abates, and you soon hear shuffling footsteps heading over to where you two are hiding. The moment you see the slightest glimpse of someone turning the corner, you halt time again. "Holy shit, that was great," you laugh, falling back onto your bum, "Larissa's got the right idea. If you've got the time, edging is the way to go." You grin widely. "And I've always got time." You can't help but giggle over your own joke as you take a moment to appreciate the scene. Andy is splayed out in the most lewd of positions, thrusting his pussy forward, arms behind his head. There are people just starting to turn the corner, moments away from spotting the two of you. Feeling pleased with yourself, you walk out into the main room and look for a trolley with which to move Andy, not liking the prospect of carrying him out of here. --- You set Andy down on the floor of the locked room, dropping onto a chair in front of him and letting time start again. The last remnants of his orgasmic cry escape his lips, and he slumps forwards, arms caught behind his neck. You catch him and push him back so he is resting on his knees. "Just breathe, Andy," you say gently, watching the twitching man with much amusement. He takes several minutes to compose himself, unable to move from his position on his knees. "So, my little slut," you start smugly, "enjoy that?" Andy looks up at you with a dazed look, drool running down his chin. "Mhm," is all he can muster, and you laugh happily. "I wish you could have seen how close they were to spotting us," you say softly, untying his hands and helping him to his feet. A weak smile crosses his face, and you give him a gentle pat on the backside. "You should know you can trust me by now," you whisper, turning him towards you and kissing him lightly on the cheek, "I'll never do something that would get you in any real trouble." "You *are* trouble, Ms Chronos," he snorts, and you give him another playful spank as punishment. "Go clock out early, Andy," you say, pulling your phone out, "I'll get someone to start early to cover the rest of your shift." He thanks you, and heads out of the room, though not before you freeze time and give him a sloppy, lipstick-smearing kiss on the mouth as a parting gift for him to discover later. "Hey, Miranda," you say into the phone, holding the device to your ear with your shoulder, "can you get Adam to start early today? Tell him he'll get time-and-a-half for the shift." You finish reapplying your make-up with your hand mirror and then take the phone in your hand again. "Actually. Get Tam to start early too. Same deal. Then meet me in my spare office." You rub your aching pussy over your clothes. [["I have a little something I want you to take care of."->TimeSide3]]

"Fuck me harder, Bitch," you grunt, tugging on Miranda's leash harshly. The woman growls but picks up the speed of her thrusts, plunging her cock deep inside you with renewed vigor. "That's it, good Bitch," you sigh, relaxing into the carpet of the office floor. The carpet tickles your back wonderfully as Miranda slams herself down into you. Every time her hips meet your own you gasp with pleasure, wrapping your legs around her back a little tighter. You yawn exaggeratedly, attempting to mask your pleasure. "Is that all you have, Bitch? Maybe you're getting too old and need to be replaced." Miranda snarls angrily, but says nothing, picking up her pace a little more. Your eyes flutter and your toes curl at the increased speed, but you continue to berate your puppy further. "If you can't even fuck me properly, then what good are you? Maybe I'll go and make Rico my new pet. How's that sound to you?" With a look of rage in her eyes, Miranda clenches her whole body, then slams herself as hard inside of you as she possibly can, unleashing a torrent of hot jizz inside your gushing cunt. The shocking pleasure makes you babble incoherently and flail about, cumming hard. Your legs lock Miranda inside you as she pumps her warm, gooey load into your needy pussy. You tug her leash hard and pull her head into your chest possesively, wrapping your arms around her and smothering her into your boobs. Miranda licks and nips at your cleavage as you both come down from your high. You stroke her hair lovingly, occasionally sending your hand travelling down her spine and caressing her bare skin. "Good girl," you whisper, breathing heavily. Miranda thanks you with a long, slow lick along your breast. You tell Miranda to hop off of you and she does, whimpering as her shrinking dick slips out of you. "Sit," you say firmly, pointing to a spot on the floor in the middle of the room. Miranda moves swiftly, scrabbling over on all fours sitting on her haunches obediently. "Good girl," you coo, still lying flat on your back. With a strained grunt you hop to your feet, hand shooting down to cup your leaking pussy. You waddle over to your puppy and look down at her. She looks up with an expectant gleam in her eye. "Clean me up, Bitch," you demand, thrusting out your groin and moving your hand away. Miranda darts forward and starts lapping up her cum spilling out of you, making sure not to let any stray droplets hit the floor. You sigh happily as her tongue explores your folds, cleaning you up nicely. "Enough," you say, raising a hand imperiously. Miranda immediately pulls away from your pussy, snapping back to attention. She looks up at you with pleading eyes, and you smile back warmly. "Hoo, I need to take a quick break," you pant, wandering over to your desk and slumping into the chair. The silence of static time lets you rest your tired body in peace, allowing you to completely unwind. You occasionally throw a glance over to Miranda, smiling at her dopey face. You let your eyes close for a while, power-napping in frozen time. You do most of your sleeping in paused time nowadays. After all, you have all the time you could ever need if you want to be alone, but there are only twenty-four hours in a day to spend time with others. Feeling rested, you hop back up and walk back over to Miranda. You run a hand through her hair. "You ready?" There is no reply from the frozen puppy, but you scratch behind her ears and tell her she is a good girl regardless. You drop to all fours and present yourself to Miranda, letting time resume with your ass high in the air. "Come on, Bitch," you jeer, shaking your bare ass provocatively, "you may be spent, but I'm not done yet." Miranda looks momentarily exhausted, but she quickly focuses her gaze on your swaying backside. "Get that worthless prick of yours hard again, and then come and please your Mistress." Miranda bounds over to you and leaps onto you, humping at your behind with her quickly re-stiffening dick. You take hold of her leash and yank it hard, making her yelp. "Hurry up, Bitch! My ass has a distubing lack of useless doggy dick in it! Do I have to replace you with- EEP!" You yelp in pain and pleasure as Miranda forces her hard cock inside your dry ass, ramming the throbbing member into you without care for your well being. "Fuck yes, that's the way! Make your Mistress ache, Bitch!" Pain and pleasure in equal amounts radiate from your asshole as Miranda fucks you hard and fast, your resistant rosebud steadily giving in to her relentless battering. "Mmphm!" You bite your lip hard enough to draw blood, tugging Miranda's leash aggressively. "Good girl! Keep fucking Mistress! Break her ass! Do it!" Your painal continues for several excrutiating, wonderful minutes, with Miranda panting and you yelling (increasingly incoherent) insults all the while. It's not very long before Miranda's pants start to get more heavy and lustful, signalling her impending orgasm, and your own isn't too far away. You wrap her leash around your hand and jerk her head down viciously, her entire body being pressed into your back. Getting the hint, she wraps her arms around your belly and starts plowing you faster and harder, channeling all her energy into her humping of your destroyed pucker. You give her a grunt of praise as your other hand darts between your legs to start vigorously assaulting your clit, and she slathers the back of your neck with licks and bites, making you squirm happily. "That's right, Bitch! Cum! Cum in Mistress's tight asshole! Fill me with that worthless doggy spunk!" And she does, pressing herself into you as hard as she possibly can. Her balls slap against your orgasming cunt and start to pulse as spurts of cum fill your bowels. Her arms grip you so tightly that you struggle to breathe, making your eyes roll into your skull as your tongue flops out of your mouth, cumming hard. You collapse even before Miranda is finished shooting her load inside you, crushed under the puppy's full weight. She clenches you tightly a few more times before finally letting you go, spent at last. Miranda knows not to get off of you until you tell her, so she continues to lay on top of you while you gather yourself, whimpering and licking at your neck. "Awright, off," you gasp, voice muffled by the carpet. Miranda rolls off of you, and you reach up blindly, arm searching for her head. She ducks her head into your palm, and you stroke her hair gently. Once you've given her enough scritches, your hand trails down her head to her neck, fingers fumbling about for the latch on her collar. The collar pops open and slips from her neck, and as soon as it does Miranda scoops you up into her arms. "You okay, Ms C?" "I'm fine , Miranda," you say, reaching up and stroking her face, "thank you." "Hey," she says, tired voice a little unsure, "I know you usually split pretty quickly after we're done, but, uh..." You look up to your bodyguard, waiting patiently for her to finish her thought. "I dunno if I'm out of place asking, but would you stay here with me and- I dunno, lemme look after you for a while? That was pretty intense." You laugh loudly, not expecting that question. It's true, you usually clean yourself up and rest while time is frozen, leaving within a minute or two of real time. Miranda looks a little concerned, so you smile at her to reassure her. "Sure, Miranda," you whisper, allowing yourself to relax in her arms. You yawn loudly, closing your eyes for a moment. "I'd love to." Miranda pulls you a little closer to her naked body, her boobs pressing into your cheek wonderfully. You smile broadly and nuzzle into her chest as she starts gently wiping the sweat from your body with a hand towel. You let her take care of you, cleaning you up and rubbing ointment into your ravaged asshole gently. The two of you chat about assorted topics as you relax together, just generally having a nice time in each other's presence. "Let's go down to the restaurant and get some dessert or something, Miranda," you say, pulling on your blouse and hanging up your blazer. "Uh, okay," Miranda says as she puts on her uniform, surprised, "if you're sure." "I am," you smile, opening the door. You pull your phone out and send a text to Andy to meet you in the restaurant downstairs if he wants to hang out with you and Miranda. You tuck your phone away and entwine your arm with Miranda's, resting your head against her shoulder as you walk downstairs together. "I have all the time I could ever need if I want to be alone," you say softly, "but there are only twenty-four hours in a day to spend time with others." ***END*** [[Restart->Intro]]

(set:$isBit to false)"What do we have here?" The voice stirs you from your slumber. It is dark, and you can't see anything. You're surrounded by something dry and crunchy, so you shake yourself from side to side to try and free yourself. "Oh, even more strange," the voice says as you are blinded by light. Having freed yourself from your bindings, you take a look around as your eyes adjust. You're still in the landfill, though it is illuminated by early morning sunlight now. You're quite low down, practically on the ground, so you move to sit yourself up. But you can't. Confused, you look down- and see the dirt ground. You try to look towards your legs, but you can't move your head that far. Frustrated, you rotate yourself around, all eight legs skittering about as you turn. Wait... "Figured out something's different, huh?" You scream silently, barely registering the strange voice. At your feet is a dessicated husk that was once a corpse. Your corpse! You can see flaky skin that still somewhat resembles your face staring back at you, even as it crumbles in the wind. And that isn't mentioning your current state. You have eight legs! You can see some of them in your peripheral vision. They are long, spindly, and glittering purple. You're starting to piece together what may be going on, and you're freaking out. "I can show you what you look like now. If you'd like." You turn to finally face the voice. Standing above you is a tall dark-skinned man. He has a well kept black beard, but is otherwise bald everywhere else. His bare chest is visible through his unbuttoned brown vest, and there are a few cuts and holes in his jeans that allow glimpses of his muscular legs beneath. He smiles down at you with a mix of genuine warmth and amusement. The stranger gestures behind himself, and you can see an archway of vines. The archway looks very out of place in the landfill, the healthy green vines contrasting the decaying trash all around you. Through the archway you can see some sort of bedroom. You don't know why, but you feel instinctively as though you can trust this man. You clamber out from the dessicated shell that was once your body and skitter along the ground towards the archway. As you pass through it, you find yourself in a cozy bedroom. The wooden floor below you clatters as you move across it, making your way across the room to the full-length mirror on the opposite side. You take in your new appearance as you get closer. You are a glittering purple spider, roughly the size of a dessert plate. You have eight long legs, four on either side of your body. Your shape is reminiscent of a black widow, though you are purple all over. There seem to be tiny grains of glass or sand studded along your body, making your carapace look like sandpaper up close. The grains catch the light and sparkle brilliantly, shimmering like gemstones. You have eight beady, unblinking eyes on your face, along with two chelicerae. The chelicerae are tipped with small, sharp fangs that have tiny beads of venom forming at the tip. You dance your body about, watching the spider in the mirror match your movements. You splay your legs, flare your fangs, lower and raise your body- all sorts of different movements to examine how you look. "It is a very beautiful new form you've found yourself," comes the voice, and you turn to meet the man from earlier. He is standing in the doorway, watching you intently. There is no sign of the archway of vines or landfill, but you shrug - kinda - and forget about them. "How are you feeling?" You want to tell the man you feel terrible, but that isn't actually the case. You feel great, if a little confused. There's no pain in your body, and you actually feel quite energised. You open your mouth to convey as such, but nothing comes out. "Ah, of course," he says, shaking his head, "I am sorry. You probably can't speak in that form, can you?" You shake your whole body from side to side in an approximation of a shaken head, and it seems to do the job. "Well, I may have some ways we can work around that," he says, walking forwards and kneeling in front of you. He extends his arm to you, palm facing up. You look at his hand, confused, tilting your body to one side to convey your confusion. "Hop on," he says gently. With another semi-shrug, you skitter onto his hand and clamber up his arm, coming to a rest on his shoulder. "I must say, those feet are quite pointy," he chuckles, standing back up and addressing you in the mirror, "my name is Darian. And I hope to be of assistance to you, Taylor." You are surprised that he knows your name, but you nod your body as best you can. "Now then, let's get you something to eat," Darian says, walking the two of you out of the room, "and then I will take you to meet an associate of mine. I have a feeling you will get along very well." [[A few hours later...->MeetRosa]]

This list shows all available endings and alternate scenes as of the current version. Endings (text-colour:green)[in green] have been achieved in this playthrough. Click |secret>[(link:"here")[here(show:?spoil)]] to reveal unachieved endings. *(SPOILERS)* Click an unachieved ending to get a hint for how to reach it. Click the hint to see the exact steps to reach the ending. To access the XENOS database, click the link that appears after achieving the first two accessible endings. After that, the database can be accessed from the intro screen. New XENOS are added to the database whenever you see (text-colour:orange)[(text-style:"underline")[words styled like this]]. Some endings will require turning different XENOS on and off, so experiment with different combinations.|spoil)[ (text-colour:red)[[[Guide to all "Chronos Device" secret scenes->ChronosGuide]]] ] (unless:$ED01 is true)[|spoil)[(link-reveal:"***It's an Average Sort of Life***")[ (link-reveal:"(text-colour:cyan)[Perhaps Taylor could get a new job...]")[ (text-colour:orange)[Take the redundancy. Find the white paper in the park.]]] ]](else:)[***(text-colour:green)[It's an Average Sort of Life]***] (unless:$ED02 is true)[|spoil)[(link-reveal:"***It's an Average Sort of Life... Mostly...***")[ (link-reveal:"(text-colour:cyan)[Perhaps Taylor could get a new job, but take something from Aion Corp first...]")[ (text-colour:orange)[Take the redundancy. Find the white paper in the park. Have the Chronos Device. See the time stop scene.]]] ]](else:)[***(text-colour:green)[It's an Average Sort of Life... Mostly...]***] (unless:$ED03 is true)[|spoil)[(link-reveal:"***Corporate Snakes***")[ (link-reveal:"(text-colour:cyan)[Perhaps Taylor could challenge her dismissal...]")[ (text-colour:orange)[Do not take the redundancy.]]] ]](else:)[***(text-colour:green)[Corporate Snakes]***] (unless:$ED04 is true)[|spoil)[(link-reveal:"***Not all that Glitters is Gold***")[ (link-reveal:"(text-colour:cyan)[What is that glittering...?]")[ (text-colour:orange)[Have the Arachne XENOS active. Click the "glittering" link on the intro screen, then enter the elevator.]]] ]](else:)[***(text-colour:green)[Not all that Glitters is Gold]***] (unless:$ED05 is true)[|spoil)[(link-reveal:"***She's a Killer Queen***")[ (link-reveal:"(text-colour:cyan)[Perhaps something could counteract the glittering venom...]")[ (text-colour:orange)[Have the Arachne XENOS active. Click the "glittering" link on the intro screen, then enter the elevator. Have the Mark of Asclepius. Exit the elevator early.]]] ]](else:)[***(text-colour:green)[She's a Killer Queen]***] (unless:$ED14 is true)[|spoil)[(link-reveal:"***Just a Fly... err... SPIDER on the Wall***")[ (link-reveal:"(text-colour:cyan)[What if a bitten Taylor ended up in a landfill...?]")[ (text-colour:orange)[Have the Arachne XENOS active. Click the "glittering" link on the intro screen, then enter the elevator. Have the Mark of Asclepius. Do not get out of the elevator early. Do not take the redundancy. You must have seen the landfill scene at least once before.]]] ]](else:)[***(text-colour:green)[Just a Fly... err... SPIDER on the Wall]***] (unless:$ED06 is true)[|spoil)[(link-reveal:"***Panacea of the Blessed Boughs***")[ (link-reveal:"(text-colour:cyan)[Perhaps something could soothe Taylor after a terrible event...]")[ (text-colour:orange)[Do not take the redundancy. Have the Mark of Asclepius. Take the green seed.]]] ]](else:)[***(text-colour:green)[Panacea of the Blessed Boughs]***] (unless:$ED07 is true)[|spoil)[(link-reveal:"***The Blood of the Covenant is Thicker***")[ (link-reveal:"(text-colour:cyan)[Perhaps Taylor could find a new family after getting revenge...]")[ (text-colour:orange)[Do not take the redundancy. Have the Mark of Asclepius. Do not have the Chronos Device. Take the red seed. Decline Darian's offer.]]] ]](else:)[***(text-colour:green)[The Blood of the Covenant is Thicker]***] (unless:$ED08 is true)[|spoil)[(link-reveal:"***Mother of a Dragon***")[ (link-reveal:"(text-colour:cyan)[Perhaps Taylor could make a new family after getting revenge...]")[ (text-colour:orange)[Do not take the redundancy. Have the Mark of Asclepius. Do not have the Chronos Device. Take the red seed. Accept Darian's offer.]]] ]](else:)[***(text-colour:green)[Mother of a Dragon]*** |cloaked>[ --[[Side Story: Familial Bonding->DragonIncestEp1]] ]] (unless:$ED09 is true)[|spoil)[(link-reveal:"***Blazing Vengeance***")[ (link-reveal:"(text-colour:cyan)[What happened to Taylor's watch before the landfill...?]")[ (text-colour:orange)[Do not take the redundancy. Have the Mark of Asclepius. Have the Chronos Device. Take the red seed.]]] ]](else:)[***(text-colour:green)[Blazing Vengeance]***] (unless:$ED18 is true)[|spoil)[(link-reveal:"***To Dawn; From Dusk***")[ (link-reveal:"(text-colour:cyan)[What if Taylor asked for help...?]")[ (text-colour:orange)[Escape from Andrews' office with the Chronos Device. Tell Millie you need help.]]] ]](else:)[***(text-colour:green)[To Dawn; From Dusk]***] (unless:$ED10 is true)[|spoil)[(link-reveal:"***No Escape***")[ (link-reveal:"(text-colour:cyan)[What if Taylor couldn't get back on her feet...?]")[ (text-colour:orange)[Escape from Andrews' office with the Chronos Device. Tell Millie you are fine. Do not use the Chronos Device in the pawn shop.]]] ]](else:)[***(text-colour:green)[No Escape]***] (unless:$ED11 is true)[|spoil)[(link-reveal:"***Time is Money, and She's the Richest There Is***")[ (link-reveal:"(text-colour:cyan)[What if Taylor used time to get herself out of poverty...?]")[ (text-colour:orange)[Escape from Andrews' office with the Chronos Device. Tell Millie you are fine. Use the Chronos Device in the pawn shop.]]] ]](else:)[***(text-colour:green)[Time is Money, and She's the Richest There Is]*** |cloaked>[ --[[Side Story: Fucking with Time->TimeSideStory1]] ]] (unless:$ED12 is true)[|spoil)[(link-reveal:"***It's Good to Be the Boss***")[ (link-reveal:"(text-colour:cyan)[What is that red paper on Andrews' desk...?]")[ (text-colour:orange)[Have the Aletheia XENOS active. Find the red paper in Andrews' office.]]] ]](else:)[***(text-colour:green)[It's Good to Be the Boss]*** |cloaked>[ --[[Side Story: Anhedonic Empress->EmpressSideStory]] ]] (unless:$ED15 is true)[|spoil)[(link-reveal:"***It's a Man's World, and You're a Bottom Bitch, Boy***")[ (link-reveal:"(text-colour:cyan)[What is that red paper in the park...?]")[ (text-colour:orange)[Take the redundancy. Have the Aletheia XENOS active. Find the red paper in the park.]]] ]](else:)[***(text-colour:green)[It's a Man's World, and You're a Bottom Bitch, Boy]***] (unless:$ED16 is true)[|spoil)[(link-reveal:"***Confidence is All You Need***")[ (link-reveal:"(text-colour:cyan)[What is that red paper on Male-Taylor's desk...?]")[ (text-colour:orange)[Complete the steps to achieve the previous ending. You will be sent back to the start of that path. Click the new red link.]]] ]](else:)[***(text-colour:green)[Confidence is All You Need]***] (unless:$ED19 is true)[|spoil)[(link-reveal:"***Science is Fun... for Her at Least***")[ (link-reveal:"(text-colour:cyan)[What could that strange letter say...?]")[ (text-colour:orange)[Escape from Andrews' office with the Chronos Device. Have the Aletheia XENOS active. Click the pink link to open the envelope.]]] ]](else:)[***(text-colour:green)[Science is Fun... for Her at Least]***] (unless:$ED13 is true)[|spoil)[(link-reveal:"***Office Fuck Toy***")[ (link-reveal:"(text-colour:cyan)[What if Taylor had no agency...?]")[ (text-colour:orange)[Have the Peitharchia Implant.]]] ]](else:)[***(text-colour:green)[Office Fuck Toy]***] (unless:$ED17 is true)[|spoil)[(link-reveal:"***A Single Broken Thread in a String of Many***")[ (link-reveal:"(text-colour:cyan)[What if Taylor ran from Fate...?]")[ (text-colour:orange)[See all the Chronos Device scenes to unlock the new Chronos option in the intro. Choose to run from Fate.]]] ]](else:)[***(text-colour:green)[A Single Broken Thread in a String of Many]***] (unless:$EDTRUE is true)[|spoil)[(link-reveal:"***TRUE END***")[ (link-reveal:"(text-colour:cyan)[WHEN YOU'VE SEEN IT ALL, RETURN TO THE TWINS.]")[ (text-colour:orange)[Achieve all other endings. Have the Peitharchia Implant. Continue through to the new scene, then click the new link in the intro.]]] ]](else:)[***(text-colour:green)[Master of Fate]***] (link-undo:"Back")

(set: _rosa to (colour: cyan))You hold yourself a little closer to Darian's shoulder as the two of you walk through the hallways of the inn he's brought you too. "Kumonosu" is what he had called it. The name seemed very... welcoming... to you when you first heard it, though you have no idea why. The name may have been welcoming, but the inn itself is anything but. Every one of the staff members you pass has a pleasant smile on their face, but it feels as though the walls themselves are watching you. You feel like an intruder here, despite Darian and your guide telling you that you were welcome here. *"I feel like I'm walking into the den of a predator,"* you think to yourself. "Here we are, sir," says your guide cheerily, bowing as he gestures towards the door. The door is relatively nondescript, but it looms over you terrifyingly. It's not just your diminuitive stature that makes the door seem gigantic. There is something ominous emanating from the other side. You bury yourself further into Darian's shoulder, entire body pressed flat to him. "Relax, Taylor," he says calmly, reaching up to run a soothing finger along your abdomen. You don't, absolutely frozen in terror. Darian opens the door, and you wish you could screw your eyes shut as he does. The wave of malevolent energy billows out, nearly knocking you off Darian's shoulder. Darian and the guide don't seem to notice anything, but you have half a mind to leap from Darian's shoulder and flee. Though something tells you that if you did, you'd be trapped forever. Darian moves into the room and closes the door behind him. The room is quite small, little more than a tea room. There is little in the way of furnishing, just a small table surrounded by some pillows in the centre, and a large folding screen in the far corner. And it's from the folding screen that the frightening aura emanates. You can almost see the dark waves of energy that spew from behind the folding screen, cowering in fear as they wash over you. The dark aura starts to move, making it's way out from behind the folding screen. Then you are face to face with the darkness. There is an enormous, amorphous, black mass making its way towards you, thundering footsteps pounding in the eardrums you don't even know if you have. Darian doesn't seem fazed by the approaching mass, bowing politely and smiling. "Good evening, Madame Rosa," he says, looking at the lower half of the approaching mass. Eight piercing gold pinpricks appear in the dark aura and bore into your soul. It's too much for you to handle. Your legs go rigid and you fall from Darian's shoulder, paralysed. As your back meets the ground, the shock makes your legs twitch, and you begin to flail wildly. *"I WANT TO GO HOME!"* Your scream is silent, the only noise your body makes is that of your body rapping spastically against the tatami mats beneath you. *"I WANT TO GO HOME I WANT TO GO HOME I WANT TO GO HOME!"* _rosa[*"You are home."*] You freeze again, though this time in surprise rather than terror. The voice echoes in your mind, alien but calming. You relax, slowly rolling onto your front again and getting to your many feet. You turned to face the door when you fell, so you are not looking at Darian or the evil aura. *"Who are you?"* No sooner have you thought the question do you receive an answer, again echoing in your mind. _rosa[*"Turn and see."*] You make the spider equivalent of a gulp and start to turn around. Your gaze moves past Darian, and rests on the other figure in the room. There, you see a small, old Asian woman. She is a little over |translate>[(cycling-link: "120cm", "4 feet")] tall, with slightly gray, wrinkled skin. Her white hair is held up in a bun, topped with a small gold-trimmed wooden comb. She is wearing a black furisode that has many thin white lines decorating it. *"A spider's web..."* The elderly woman nods, her golden eyes staring down at you with no emotion. _rosa["You must be Taylor."] The same voice that you heard in your mind earlier is now heard in your ears, flat and emotionless. It is quiet, but clearly audible. You bow your body in an approximation of a nod. _rosa[*"I can hear you if you speak."*] The voice in your head startles you some, but you reply regardless. *"Y-yes,"* you say nervously, *"I'm Taylor. Or at least, I was."* "Yes, this is Taylor," Darian says to the woman, seemingly unaware that you had already answered. _rosa["I have seen all I need to. She may stay."] Darian smiles broadly and looks down at you as the woman kneels at the table. "Well, there we go," he chuckles, "welcome to your new home, Taylor." He kneels down to address you more closely. "I know we did not know each other for long, but I thank you for trusting me. You will be safe here." You bob your body in a nod, trying your best to convey your appreciation for all his help, even if you still aren't sure what exactly is going on. "Farewell, Taylor," he says, standing back up, "and farewell to you, Madame Rosa." He bows his head politely, and then leaves without another word. You watch the door shut behind him, feeling a little sad. _rosa[*"You shall meet him again. Some day."*] You turn back to the woman - Madame Rosa, you presume. She is not looking at you, instead focused on brewing a pot of tea. _rosa["Come. Join me at the table. I shall hear your story."] You nervously skitter over to the cushion next to her, settling onto the soft seat. You give her a brief recount of what transpired up to you arriving at the inn. She is silent the whole time, sipping quietly from her tea. _rosa["I see."] You stay silent as she finishes her tea, looking around the room nervously. _rosa["Kumonosu shall be your home now."] She stands up and stares down at you dispassionately. _rosa["You will be safe here, as family.] She pulls a small golden ring from her sleeve and flicks it towards you. You instinctively leap forward to catch it. The ring slips directly onto your front right leg, stopping about halfway up. You examine the ring as best you can, but it is ultimately just a regular gold ring. There are no markings or gemstones, and the gold doesn't shine with any exceptional lustre, but it feels right to have the ring around your leg. _rosa["It is proof that you belong here. With it, Kumonosu shall bare itself to you."] The door of the room creaks open, and you marvel at the true form of your [[new home->KumonosuEnd]].

(set: _rosa to (colour: #cdedfa))You skitter along the ceiling silently, looking down on the room below intently. The two naked men fucking below are oblivious to your intrusion, and you leave them to their love-making as you examine the rest of the room. You felt malicious intent radiate from a spot in this room, and you scan around to search for the source. That's when you spot it. In the wall opposite the lovers' bed is a small hole. *"That hole is not meant to be there,"* you bristle, angrily creeping down the wall to get a closer look. The hole is a few centimeters in diameter, only large enough to look through. You doubt anything larger than a finger could fit through comfortably. With growing suspicion, you push yourself into the hole. Your body should be too large to squeeze through the hole, but the wall turns to webbing wherever your body touches it, allowing you to force yourself inside. Once through, you web over the hole, smiling internally as the Inn's magic turns the webs to wood. The unsightly hole patched, you examine the new room you find yourself in. It is identical to the room next door. There is a king-sized bed against one wall, with an assortment of shelves, cupboards, tables, and chairs in strategic locations around the room. "Yes, ma'am. I have very damning evidence of him." There is a man seated at one of the tables, phone to his ear and laptop open in front of him. He is talking and typing at the same time, holding the phone up with his shoulder. "Yes, there is no questioning who it is in the footage," he says, plugging a cord into the side of the laptop, "I managed to get very clear shots of their faces. Your husband and his lover will be ruined when this gets out." You watch as the man plugs the cord from the computer into a digital video camera, and you understand what is going on. "I'll send the files over immediately," says the man, tapping away at his keyboard. You clench in fury. Kumonosu Inn is a place of welcoming; a place where all are free to be themselves without fear or shame. For someone to have snuck in here in an attempt to expose the secrets of another is unconscionable. You tap your back legs against the wall silently, and the Inn hears your instructions. "Hello? Ma'am? Are you there?" The man at the desk places his mobile phone down in frustration. "Bloody reception," he mutters, growing increasingly frustrated as he uses his computer, "oh, of course. Now the internet is fucked too. This place is so shitty." Rage bubbles inside you, but you do not let it control your actions. You once again tap your legs against the wall, the Inn moving to fulfill your orders. You scurry across the bed and onto the floor. You scuttle over to the man and sink your fangs into his legs. "Fucking hell," the man shouts, leaping to his feet, "something just fucking bit me!" He scans around in an attempt to locate you, but you have already climbed up the wall and onto the roof, watching as the scene unfolds. "Why is this place so dark all of a sudden?" The man moves over to the lightswitch and flicks it a few times, clicking his tongue when nothing happens. "Fuck's sake, I hate it here. Gonna go make them give me a refund or something." The man tries to pull back in shock as the door handle wraps around his arms, but he is unable to get away. He opens his mouth to shout, but the webs of the door leap forward and web his mouth shut at your instruction. He pulls and tugs at the webs, trying to free himself from the door, but you will the Inn to bind him entirely. Soon he is pinned to the wall, eyes darting around in terror. Then even you start to feel afraid. A powerful presence begins to fill the room, and you glance over to the wall opposite the door. A black aura starts to waft into the room, and the very walls peel away to allow their mistress passage. As soon as you spot the eight golden lights, you know that your work is done and that you are dismissed. You burrow into the ceiling before the full, magnificent, terrifying form of your mistress comes into view. Knowing that your mistress will call you again should she need further assistance, you make your way along the rafters back to your favourite spot in the inn. When you arrive you crawl down the wall merrily, happy to see your friend is not currently occupied with a client. "|translate>[(cycling-link: "Oh. Bonjour, Aranea,", "Oh. Hello there, Aranea,")]" Alli says, hopping up from their bed and coming over to meet you. You do a little jig to show your friend you are pleased to see them, and they smile warmly, pouty lips parting to show beautiful white teeth. You rub yourself against Alli's hand as they pat you, loving the warmth. "|translate>[(cycling-link: "Êtes-vous venu me rendre visite?", "Did you come to visit me?")]" You bob happily. Alli picks you up and pulls you to their chest, hugging you gently. You cling to their bare chest joyfully, careful not to grip them too tightly. Alli goes back over to their bed and lays on their back. You relax on their chest as they talk, telling you all about their day. Most of the stories Alli tells are about sucking dick, but you find them comforting to listen to regardless. Their enthusiasm for cock sucking is almost contagious, and you sometimes find yourself wishing you still had lips. "|translate>[(cycling-link: "Voulez-vous un régal?", "Do you want a treat?")]" You snap to attention as Alli reaches over and opens their bedside table. They pull out a few chocolates, and you bounce gleefully. They unwrap one and place it on their chest in front of you. You grip the chocolate with your forelegs and start scraping bits off with your fangs, stuffing them into your mouth. You are thankful that your body is still able to enjoy a wide variety of foods. Not that the bugs and critters you catch aren't delicious, but there isn't anything quite like chocolate. You and Alli eat your chocolate together, Alli chattering away about slurping down cum in between mouthfuls. They've quite the one track mind, but you're damned if they don't love what they do. "|translate>[(cycling-link: "J'ai un client qui arrive bientôt, donc j'ai besoin de me rafraîchir,", "I have a client who is coming soon, so I need to freshen up,")]" Alli says, moving to stand up. You nod your body in acknowledgement, grabbing your remaining chocolate and carrying it up to the corner of the roof. You spin a few webs to seat yourself on and continue to eat. "|translate>[(cycling-link: "Vas-tu me regarder travailler, Aranea?", "Are you going to watch me work, Aranea?")]" Alli wags their finger at you and pokes their tongue out jokingly. "|translate>[(cycling-link: "Vous êtes un tel pervers!", "You are such a pervert!")]" They laugh as they head into their bathroom, and you keep happily eating your chocolate treat. *"You aren't wrong, Alli,"* you giggle to yourself, slightly giddy from the sugar rush. You really like watching Alli work. You like watching all the "special" employees at Kumonosu work honestly. There isn't a whole lot else to do when you aren't doing one task or another for Madame Rosa, so you've become quite the voyeuristic arachnid, sneaking into rooms to watch people let out all their pent up desires freely. There's something about seeing people bare the most intimate parts of themselves without restraint that makes you feel alive. Of course, you'd never tell a soul about the things you see. Not that you can speak to anyone but Madame Rosa anyway, but it's the principle of the matter. Kumonosu is a place for people to be free; it wouldn't do for their secrets to be aired to the world. No, you keep the things you learn to yourself, living vicariously through the people you spend your time watching. *"Perhaps I should ask Madame Rosa about getting myself a mate..."* You push the thoughts aside as Alli's client arrives. You can think about all that later. There's a show about to start! "|translate>[(cycling-link: "Ah, c'est tellement gros! Ça a l'air délicieux!", "Ah, it's so big! It looks delicious!")]" You happily gobble down your treat while you watch Alli gobble down theirs. ***ENDING: Just a Fly... err... SPIDER on the Wall***(set:$ED14 to true) [[Restart->Intro]] |cloaked>[ [[Elsewhere, Kumonosu is infiltrated by uninvited guests...->RosaTwinEP]] ]

"You wanted to see me, Mr Andrews?" You start the conversation as if you don't know why you're here, but the look on your boss's face tells you there isn't going to be any subtlety in this conversation. "Sit down," he grunts, motioning to the chair across from him. You sheepishly sit in the chair, unable to look him in the eye. "You fucked up, Taylor," he says bluntly, "and we lost a lot of potential money because of you." "I know, sir, I'm sorry," you stammer, doing your best to meet his stern gaze, "there was a glitch with the email system, and someone didn't send me the proper information for the appointment, and-" "Shut up." You immediately stop talking, shying away from Andrews again. "I don't want to hear your excuses," he says, crossing his arms, "you fucked up. Own it." You are silent, too fearful to say anything more to defend yourself. "There's no beating around the bush here. I'm going to have to fire you." You look up to your boss with a pleading expression. "Please, sir. I need this job. Don't fire me!" Andrews looks down his nose at you, but you continue to beg for your employment. "I'll make it up to you, I promise! Just please don't fire me!" Andrews sighs and leans back in his chair. He rubs his eyes exhaustedly and the air in the room seems to get a little lighter. "Taylor, I like you, bud," he says gently, "but I gotta do my job. If I don't fire you, there's a lot of shit I'll have to go through to justify keeping you on the team." A small glimmer of hope has appeared. You have a chance. "Please, sir, I'll do anything to keep my job," you beg, "please give me another chance." Andrews sighs again, but visibly relaxes. "Look, I can probably pull some strings," he says, sitting up and leaning forward, "but... it's just..." He seems conflicted, and you know you've got this in the bag. "Please sir," you whimper, "please. I'll do whatever it takes." Andrews smirks and looks you right in the eye, and all of a sudden you feel like you've walked into a trap. "Taylor, I like you, bud," he chuckles, eyes devious, "but if I'm going to pull some strings for you, I'm going to need you to... [[make it worth my while->FTMJob]]."

"Yeah, that's the way, faggot," Andrews grunts, leaning back in his chair casually, "keep that pace nice and slow now." You scowl, but continue to stroke your boss's cock silently. You shuffle around a little on your knees to try and get a little more comfortable. The space beneath Andrews' desk isn't very roomy, and he isn't making any concessions for you. In fact, he is actively taking up as much space as possible, just to make things frustrating for you. "It's getting a little dry down there, bitchboy." With an exhausted sigh you release his fat dick and hock a large glob of spit onto your palm. You slather the saliva over his member, and Andrews groans in pleasure. "That's it," he hisses, "good boy." You continue to jerk him in silence, the only sounds in the room the 'schlicking' of your hand sliding up and down his spit-shined shaft. And Andrews' occasional insulting remarks. "Let's up the pace a bit, fag," Andrews sneers, looking down at you with a contemptible smirk. You meet his gaze with your own unimpressed glare, but you speed up your jerking regardless. "Fuck, you're good at this," he moans, closing his eyes and reclining further, "bet you have a lot of practice with this, huh sissyboy?" You don't give him an answer. "Yeah, I bet you've done this a bunch, haven't you faggot? Little bitch like you isn't good at anything but servicing cock. Probably got all your promotions while you were on your knees." Andrews slides his chair back and stands up. You let go of his cock as he moves away, hoping vainly that your task is done. The evil grin Andrews gives you tells you that you aren't finished yet. "Get out of there, slut," he instructs. You crawl out from beneath the desk and move to get to your feet, but an aggressive shove on your head keeps you on your knees. "I didn't say to get up, fag! Bitchboys like you don't get to stand while they're in my office!" He grabs you by the hair painfully and drags you out from behind his desk. You do your best to avoid the pain by scurrying behind him as fast as you can. Your boss pulls you to the middle of his office and then moves closer to you, the tip of his cock resting on your nose. "Stick that tongue out for me, boy," he demands, taking his cock in his hand and starting to stroke rapidly. You entertain the thought of punching him in the balls, but figure that you've already come too far to escape this humiliation. With some reluctance, you stick your tongue out lewdly, opening your mouth wide. "Fuck yeah, that's a nice hole for my cock," Andrews snickers, "can't wait to have that throat wrapped around my dick at some point." He continues to jerk himself off as he rubs the head of his cock on your tongue and around your lips. The taste makes you want to spit, but you admirably keep your mouth wide. "Thank me for letting you keep your job, slut," Andrews hisses, pulling his cock away from your face without ceasing his jerking. Your eyes blaze with anger, but you start to say what your boss wants to hear. "Thank you, Mr Andrews sir," you say, somewhat stiltedly, "thank you for graciously letting me keep my job." You want to vomit, both at the words you just spoke and the way Andrews' eyes fill with lust as you say them. "Now beg me to cum all over your slutty face, boy," he says, increasing the speed of his masturbation. A lump builds in your throat. This is humiliating and you hate it. Kneeling here on the floor after giving your boss a handjob, thanking him as he jerks off over your face. The idea of asking him to cum on your face at all makes you gag, but the fact he wants you to beg for it utterly disgusts you. "Hurry up, sissy," Andrews grunts angrily, "and you better make it good, or I'll fire you anyway!" You can't let yourself be fired now. Not after how much you've debased yourself already. With resignation, you follow your boss's instruction. "Please sir! Please blow your hot load all over my slutty face! Cover me with your thick, powerful cum so that I can keep my job! Blast your hot ropes over me, so I can prove that it's worth keeping me around!" With a satisfied groan, Andrews' dick explodes, spraying your face with string after gloopy string of spunk. It's thick and potent, clinging to your glasses and coating your skin. Some ropes splash into your partially open mouth, nearly making you gag. The racid taste and lumpy texture has you fit to hurl, but you clench your fists hard to steel yourself. The last of Andrews jizz coats your face, and he steps back to admire his handywork. "Fuck, that's the way, you slut," he sighs, "swallow it." With an angry gulp, you swallow your pride along with the clumps of the man's rank spunk. The oily goop sliding down your throat makes you retch, but you manage to force it down and then open your mouth wide to prove your task completed. "What a fucking faggot," Andrews laughs, putting his dick away and doing up his pants, "get the fuck out of my office, slut. And don't worry about not getting to taste enough of me. I'm gonna have you come in for regular 'performance reviews' to see if it's worth keeping you around." You glare daggers at him, silently getting to your feet. "I said faggots like you don't get to stand in my office!" You drop back to your knees in fear, recoiling from the angry man. "You can crawl out of here. Don't get to your feet until you're in the fucking elevator, okay bitchboy?" You mutter an acknowledgement and start to crawl out of the room. "Don't wipe your face either. You're gonna spend the rest of the day with my cum all over that slut face. That way everyone will know exactly what kind of faggot you really are!" You crawl across the floor to the elevator, defeated. You can hear Samuel snickering at you as you crawl by, and your heart sinks even lower. Once you're in the elevator, you hop to your feet and stare dejectedly at the floor. "Yeah, I kept my job, but was it worth it?" You don't really know the answer to your own question, silently mulling it over as the elevator travels down to your office floor. The stench of semen continues to invade your nose, overpowering everything else, and it is coating every inch of your face. You smear some off the front of your glasses just so you can see a bit more clearly, wiping the cum off on your slacks. There are snickers and whispers as you step out of the elevator and make your way back to your desk. You can catch little tidbits here and there about how they always knew you were a whore, and that they had you pegged for being gay. You want to snap back at them, telling them that you only did this to keep your job, and that you hated it, and you aren't gay, and that you like women, and- It's no use getting worked up over it. You finally reach your desk, but before you can sit down, a large hand grasps you by the shoulder. "Hey, Taylor," comes a strong voice as you are turned around, "we heard you had to go and get reprimanded by Andrews." Standing in front of you are two of your colleagues, Frank and Barney. Frank has a pale complexion contrasting ginger hair and a ginger beard. He has lots of hair on his body too. His arms and hands (one of which is currently gripping your shoulder) are covered in dark brown hairs, and hair often spills out around the edges of his collar. Barney on the other hand keeps himself completely smooth. Aside from his face and head, there isn't a single strand of hair on his dark skin. His short black hair and neatly trimmed stubble are always immaculately groomed. They're both |translate>[(cycling-link: "2 metres", "6'7")] tall, and extremely muscular. Frank's muscles come from doing general labour in his spare time, his slight pot belly making him seem out of shape. His arms and legs are as thick as tree trunks though, and you're sure he could crush melons in his fingers with ease. Barney's muscles are instead from dedicated training and weight lifting. Barney spends a lot of time in the gym, even using the company gym during some of his lunch breaks to get some extra training in. He once accidentally tore his shirt while working, and you noted that his muscles were heavily defined, abs chiseled to the point you could grate cheese on them. Both of your massive, powerful colleagues are standing over you, grinning menacingly. "Guess the fact you're still here means you came to some sort of 'agreement' with Andrews, huh?" Frank pulls you under his arm as he laughs, tugging you against his side. "I'm so glad," he says, acting like this is all just friendly banter, "would be a shame to see a young man like you leave." "Yeah, glad to see you're still with us, Tay," Barney chimes in, standing on the other side of you and wrapping his arm over your shoulder as well. You 'eep' and squirm when you feel a strong hand grab your ass with powerful force, but the two men have you firmly locked in place. "Besides, we wanted to talk to you about a mistake you made with the Johnstone account," Barney sneers, squeezing tighter. "I- I never worked on the Johns-" Frank's hand clamping down on your other asscheek cuts you off. "Yeah, it was a real blunder on your part," Frank chuckles, "but I think we can come to an 'understanding', don't you?" Oh. Now you get it. "I'd love to, guys, but I gotta get some other work done right now and-" "We're glad you don't want to leave things bitter between us," Frank says, and the two of them start to walk with you in tow. "Really, I just have so much-" "You're such a great co-worker," Barney says, holding you in place as you try to squirm away. You look pleadingly to some of your other co-workers as Frank and Barney lead you wherever you're going, but they either look away or jeer at you quietly. The two pull you in front of a storage room and you keep trying to subtly shift out of their grip, but to no avail. "I think we can talk it out in here," Frank says, as Barney opens the door. "Yeah," says Barney, pulling you inside, "how about you [[show us how sorry you are->FTMEnd]], Taylor?"

Frank grips you head harder as he slams his cock down your throat. His sweaty pubes mash into your nose, but you can barely breathe, let alone register the horrid stench of barely washed genitals anymore. Barney holds your waist tightly as he buries his dick into your ruined asshole, his hefty nuts slapping against your own with each powerful thrust. Your arms hang limply from your sides and your legs dangle around beneath you. You're too exhausted to work up the effort to even attempt to resist anymore. Your repeated gagging and crying slowly gave way to wordless quags after the first half hour of being spitroasted, and now having been here for well over two hours there isn't much left in you at all. Except cum. Load after load of hot, virile cum. "Boutta bust another nut," Barney says, increasing the intensity of his thrusts, "this boypussy is insane." "This mouthpussy is excellent too," Frank grunts, squeezing the sides of your head so hard you feel your skull might crack. They cum not too far apart, flooding you from both ends with what must be the fifteenth load so far. Their ejaculations mix in your belly and colon with the previous deposits, and they finally start to slow down. "Well, I'm beat," Frank says, slipping his giant dick from your mouth. What must be litres of cum pours out from your throat and onto the floor below, making him curse. "The fuck are you doing, fag? You got jizz on my fucking shoes!" Barney withdraws his cock from your beyond gaped hole, and is quickly met with the same predicament as nutcream bubbles from your behind. "Fuck, now I gotta clean my shoes off," he snaps. The two of them let go of you, dropping you to the floor painfully. You are quickly covered in cum, your muscles aching from the impact. "Glad we could come to an understanding, sissy," Frank says, buckling up his pants and leaving the store room. "Yeah, hope you'll always be so agreeable if we ever have complaints again, Tay," says Barney, following after Frank. You lay there, sprawled in a heap on the floor of the store room. There is cum coating your naked body and all over the floor, and you can barely work up the energy to drag your face away from the spunk pool so that you don't drown in jizz. "Well look what we have here, boys!" You are facing away from the door, so you don't know who is talking, but it seems that someone is standing in the store room doorway. "Looks like Frank and Barney were right! Taylor's here to apologise to everyone for all the mistakes he's made!" You hear a bunch of laughter and mockery, then the jingling of belts and shuffling of pants being pulled down. Someone pulls you up by the waist and throws you over a nearby pile of boxes haphazardly. You're bent over and your legs are spread, and all the while you can barely lift a finger. "Fuck, I needed this," someone says, right before they force their cock into your gaping asshole. He fucks you with rough, fast humps, clearly trying to get his nut as quickly as possible. It isn't very long before your insides get another dose of baby batter, and he pulls out with a satisfied groan. "Thanks, faggot." Not three seconds pass before another man grabs you by the hips and is forcing his dick up your ass, and the cycle begins anew. Each man fucks you roughly until he busts his nut inside of you, then lets someone else take their turn. You never even started counting, but if you had, you're pretty sure you'd have noticed more people ended up having their way with your ass than work on your floor. Eventually the constant stream of johns stops, and everyone heads home for the day. You're still too worn out to move, so you just lay there half-asleep for hours. Eventually one of the janitors finds you and wakes you up- though not before pulling you to your knees and taking a couple of rounds with your compliant throat. In no state to drive, the janitor takes you to one of the break rooms to rest until you're lucid again. Unfortunately enough for you, you sleep right through to the start of the next morning, where you're woken up by the feeling of two people spitroasting you over a table. And that's how life goes on. Sure, you never technically lost your job, but you don't actually do any work around Aion anymore. Unless you count laying on a table as five guys take turns railing you as "working". Unless having three cocks forced inside your asshole at the same time counts as work. Unless being dragged under a desk and having your face raped counts as work. Unless being tossed over a boardroom table and getting plowed into the wood counts as work. Because in that case you're a workaholic. No, the reality is you lose all semblance of sentience after only a few days. After a few weeks they stop referring to you by name. Eventually they don't even refer to you as a human at all. Over time you become just a very realistic sexdoll they keep around the office that the men can use to satisfy themselves with whenever they're stressed. And working for Aion is a very stressful job. ***ENDING: It's a Man's World, and You're a Bottom Bitch, Boy***(set:$ED15 to true) [[Restart->FTMPath]]

##"To My Office, Mr Taylor" Well, there it is. You've been expecting the email from your boss all weekend, and it has finally arrived. Not that you'd been that worried about it. Sure, you'd made some mistakes last Friday that lead to Aion Corporation losing a key client, but you weren't too hung up about it. You're pretty sure it had been a set up anyway. What were the chances that the supposed "database error" only corrupted your emails? Or that only very specific files of yours had been mysteriously erased? Or that you had been assigned to this case despite it having originally been your superior's? Regardless, your boss wants to see you now, so you should probably go see him. [[Time to go->FTMChad2]]

You hop up casually, your game of solitaire finally finished. You are about twenty minutes late to your appointment with your boss, but you aren't in any rush. You grab your keycard from your desk and hang it around your neck, then make your way towards the elevator. You have a chill smile on your face as you stride across the office floor towards the elevator, ignoring all the stares you get from your colleagues. They make no attempt to be subtle, blatantly staring in disbelief until the elevator doors close. "Looking good, Taylor," you say to your reflection in the mirrored wall, giving yourself a wide smile. Your coffee-toned skin is healthy and full of life. Your hazel eyes are wide and bright, complimented wonderfully by your thin rectangular glasses. Your black hair is done up in a stylistically messy pixie cut, just the way you like. People called it an unprofessional haircut; you told them you didn't give a shit. Your pristine white dress shirt is looking particularly snazzy today. You always make sure to iron your shirt well of a morning, and today you did an even better job than usual. You adjust your red neck tie so that it sits in the collar more neatly, nodding happily. You pat the front of your black slacks to wipe away the last of the crumbs that stuck to your pants after you ate your breakfast bagel at your desk, right as the elevator 'dings' and opens. You stride out into waiting room. Samuel, your boss's secretary, gives you a confused look and gestures to the door. "Uh, Mr Andrews will see you now, Mr Taylor." His tone is polite, and you walk over to talk to him. "Thanks, Sam," you say, sitting up on the edge of his desk. It's a little hard since the desk is pretty tall, and you're only |translate>[(cycling-link: "160cm", "5'3")] tall, but you manage it. Some men get a little self-conscious about being short, but you've never let it get you down. Ha. Get you down. Like, being short? Yeah, you're hilarious. You turn to Samuel and give him a toothy grin. "How are you this morning, Sam?" He looks surprised by your question. "Um, I'm good," he stammers, "uh, you should probably go meet with Mr Andrews. Um, you're a bit late." You wave his worries away casually and lean towards him a bit more. "Don't worry about it, Sam," you say cheerily, "hey, you wanna have lunch with me today?" "Uhhh-" Samuel is entirely speechless, and you laugh. "Give it some thought, my man," you say, leaning forward and kissing him briefly, "I'll see you later, babe." You hop off of the baffled man's desk and make your way toward's your boss's office door. Without hesitation, you throw open the door and [[waltz inside->FTMBossChad]].

"Hey, boss man." You greet Andrews with a wave as you wander into his room, not bothering to close the door behind you. You flop into the seat in front of his desk and recline in it, throwing your feet up onto the desk casually. "Uh... Yes... Mr Taylor," your boss struggles to find words, "um, take a seat." "Thanks, Jim," you say, calling your boss by his first name. "So, um, Taylor..." "I'll stop you right there, Jim," you say, putting up your hand to cut him off, "yeah, I lost us the client. Sad, but it's done now. Can't be worrying about the past." Your boss doesn't respond immediately, he just looks at you with an incredulous look. After a few moments of casual silence, you give him a wink that seems to get him talking again. "Yes, well," he starts, fumbling for words, "this is a serious problem, Taylor. Aion Corporation stands to lose a lot of money because of your blunder and... um... we need to... uh... what are you doing?" You place your tie on the desk and then recline again, unbuttoning the last of the buttons on your shirt. "Just getting some air, boss man," you explain, pulling the hem of your shirt out of your pants, "it's a bit stuffy in here. Felt like relaxing, ya know?" Your shirt completely open now, you rest you hands behind your head and let your chest breathe. You don't have any hair on your chest, and you've a tiny bit of pudge around your belly, but you're cool with your body as is. Yeah, you've always had a slightly feminine shape, but that's nothing to be ashamed about. "Uh, Taylor, we need to talk about your..." Andrews trails off, too busy looking at the sliky smooth skin of your coffee coloured chest. You smile and pull your shirt open some more, exposing your puffy nipples. He looks away nervously, but you just smile and recline further. "Tell you what, Jim. How's about you and I [[have some fun->FTMBossChad2]], then we both get back to work, yeah?"

Andrews quickly comes out from behind his desk and kneels at your feet. You smile down at him and start to unzip your fly, fishing out your cock from within your pants. Andrews is practically watering at the mouth as your |translate>[(cycling-link: "13cm", "5 inch")] dick pops free, quickly hardening. You don't have a particularly large member, but you've never been bothered. You don't need to have a big dick to have big dick energy. The most important thing in life is one's attitude. "Go ahead, Jim," you say softly, and Andrews wastes no time pressing his lips against your shaft. He starts to plant some slow, wet kisses up and down the shaft, and you recline again, sighing happily. "Yeah, that's nice," you say, running your hand through your boss's hair. You let out a loud moan as Andrews envelops the head of your cock with his lips, slowly sinking it deeper inside his mouth. "Are you alright in her Mr- what the hell's going on?!" You turn your head to see Samuel in the doorway, mouth agape as he watches Andrews suck your dick. "Hey, Sam," you say cheerily, still twirling your fingers through Andrews' hair, "sorry if I disturbed you with my moans. Just felt really good, ya know?" Samuel doesn't respond, too busy staring at you with a mixture of lust and confusion. Wanting to save the man from overthinking things, you beckon him over with your finger. "Come over here, Sam," you coo, then moan loudly as Andrews starts deepthroating you. Samuel seems conflicted, but he shakily steps over to you regardless. You curl a finger under his belt once he gets close enough and pull him closer to you. Once he's right next to you, you pull him by the tie so that he bends down, and you kiss him deeply. Samuel grows gradually more relaxed the longer you kiss him, eventually as active a participant in the kiss as you are. "Get those pants off for daddy, Sam," you whisper, pulling away from him. He nods, drool running down his chin, and quickly steps out of his slacks and underwear. His thick cock is already hard, and it bobs up and down in front of you. "Nice cock," you say, wrapping your hand around his shaft, "nice and girthy. Good shape." You give the tip a kiss, and it twitches in response. You smile and let go of Samuel's cock, shivering slightly when Andrews starts to suckle at your own tip. You get Andrews to stop sucking for a moment and drag the chair closer to Andrews' desk. You let your boss resume his fellating of your shaft, and motion to Samuel to bend over the desk. "Now spread those cheeks nice and wide for daddy, Sam," you grunt, and the man follows your instructions immediately. Samuel bends over the desk and reaches back to part his asscheeks, giving you a perfect view of his twitching balloon knot. "Nice," you say with a smile, before leaning over and pressing your face between his cheeks. Samuel groans lewdly as you start rimming him, gripping his cheeks tightly. Pleased with his reaction, you start to lick his asshole with more fervour, making sure to reward Andrews with headpats as you do. Once Samuel's hole is nice and lubricated on the outside, you press your tongue inside of him and start circling his ring with wet licks. "Fuck fuck fuck! It's so good," Samuel pants, his fingers digging into the flesh of his cheeks aggressively. You give him a few more moments of deep tongue-fucking, then withdraw from his backside for some air. "Stay there, Sam," you say breathily, "daddy will reward you soon. I just have to give Andrews his reward first." Samuel whimpers, but continues to stay as he is, bent over the desk and asscheeks spread wide. You turn your attention to Andrews, who has done a wonderful job sucking your cock for this whole time. "I'm about to cum, boss man," you say, stroking his hair gently with your hand, "how do you want it? Your choice." Andrews pulls off of your dick with a loud gasp. "Please, on my face," he pants, tongue hanging out like a dog's. "Of course," you reply, taking your saliva-slathered cock into your own hand. Andrews kneels patiently as you jerk yourself over the edge, eager tongue sticking out ready to catch some of your cum. You groan with immense pleasure as you burst, flinging ropes of jizz across your boss's face. Cum sprays over the man in several thick strings. Some spatters in his eyes, some paints his cheeks, some lands on his tongue. Soon there's a bit of cum on every part of his face, and he looks extremely pleased. "Hangk hoo," he says, tongue still completely extended. "Damn, that's really hot," you sigh, admiring the mess you made of Andrews' face, "you can swallow now." Andrews thanks you again as he gulps down the cum on his tongue. The way he shivers, one would imagine he'd just swallowed the tastiest liquid on the planet. "Now, I gotta get back to Sammy here," you say, turning back to your ass displaying colleague, "he's been such a good boy for daddy." Samuel thanks you as you give him another quick rimming, re-applying fresh saliva to his partially dried hole. Once you're satisfied with how lubed up he is, you lick your finger to lube it up a little and insert it into his ass slowly. "How's that feel?" "Good, daddy," Samuel groans, and you smile. It's nice to make others feel good. You spend a little while gently fingering Samuel's ass, drawing all manner of moans from the man. Still at your feet, Andrews fishes out his cock and starts jerking it to the sight of you finger-fucking his secretary. "You ready to feel really good, baby boy?" Samuel moans in assent, and you grin widely. You stop pumping your finger in and out of his ass, and curl it a little, searching for a specific bump. The shudder Samuel makes when your fingers rub across a lump in his ass tells you you've found his prostate, so you start to massage it gently. His prostate successfully located, you nudge Samuel's legs apart with your free hand and grasp his mostly limp cock. As you start to fondle his member, Samuel's asshole clenches tightly around your finger. With some spit for lube, you start to jerk Samuel's cock while you rub his prostate, making him start moaning even louder. "Cum for me, Sammy. Be a good boy for daddy and cum." And he does, unable to take the pleasure. His hole clenches tightly around your finger and his balls contract as he sprays cum all over the front of Andrews' desk. He writhes in your hands as his hot load splashes out of him, eventually letting go of his cheeks and dropping onto the desk, exhausted. Andrews finally cums too, spraying cum all over his pantlegs and hands. You slip your finger out of Samuel's ass and tuck your dick back into your pants. Once your pants are done up you get to your feet and stretch. "Thanks for the great time, guys," you say, grabbing your tie from the desk and stuffing it into your pocket. You don't bother buttoning up your shirt, instead heading out of Andrews' office while you let him and his secretary come down from their orgasms. "Still up for lunch if you are, Sam," you say, briefly popping your head back in the door to speak to the man. Feeling quite pleased with yourself, you stroll into the elevator and press the button for your floor. "Damn, I could use a nap," you yawn, leaning against the wall nonchalantly, "always feel a little drained after a good nut." You spend the time alone as the elevator descends to do a couple of light stretches. Always good to keep the blood flowing, especially when you've got an office job that involves being sedentary for extended periods. You've just finished doing your calf stretches when the elevator door opens. You wander out onto the office floor happily, not really noticing the bewildered stares from your co-workers. A few of them mutter amongst themselves, but you can't be bothered putting in the effort to hear what they're saying. No use wasting energy on the bad things people say. You gotta stay focused on the positives in life. You don't head back to your desk just yet, not particularly feeling like doing any work at the moment. Instead you make your way towards the break room, deciding to get yourself a cup of coffee since you haven't had any this morning. You're always careful with your caffeine intake; caffeine addiction is no joke. "Good morning, Frank. Barney." You nod to the two muscular men as you walk into the break room, making them stop their conversation to greet you. "Hey... Taylor..." Frank and Barney seem somewhat surprised to see you, or perhaps they are just confused by the fact that you still have your shirt entirely unbuttoned. "How are you two this morning?" You press the button on the coffee machine, and it starts brewing a fresh pot. "Good," says Barney slowly, eyeing you up and down, "didn't you have a meeting with Andrews today?" "Yep," you say, "just got done with it." "Not to put too fine a point on it, but ah," Frank seems hesitant to finish his thought, "we honestly all thought you'd be fired." You chuckle as you pour yourself a cup of coffee. "Nah, I just told Andrews there was no need to, and he let me keep my job." You take a sip of your drink, careful not to take too much and scold your tongue. Barney and Frank look at each other, bewildered. "That's certainly one tactic," Frank snorts, taking a swig of his own coffee. "S'all about confidence," you say, leaning back against the bench, "just gotta know what you want, and stick to your course with vigour." Barney seems unconvinced, giving you a disbelieving look. "Yeah, but like, you can't just get everything you want with confidence, surely?" You smirk at Barney, taking another sip of coffee. "You guys would both consider yourself straight, yeah?" Barney and Frank are quite thrown off by this question, literally doing a double-take. "Of course," Frank says, chuckling, "I got nothin' against the gays, I just ain't one, yeah?" "Yeah, it's only women for me too," Barney says, "why do you ask?" "Oh, no reason," you shrug, putting your empty cup into the sink, "say, can I get you two to [[help me with something->FTMChadEnd]] in the store room?"

"Oh God, fuck me harder!" Frank's pleasured begging spurs you to speed up your thrusting. You bend over the large man a little more, adjusting your grip on his huge legs a bit. It takes a lot of effort to hold his legs up so that his knees are above his shoulders, but it's well worth the exertion to see the bear of a man in such a lewd state. You start to buck your hips against his large, hairy ass faster, making him moan louder. Your cock feels great inside the muscular man's tight hole, and you let yourself grunt in pleasure as you thrust. "You doing alright, Barney?" Barney pulls his mouth from Frank's fat, weighty nutsack with a 'pop' to answer you. "Fuck yeah, keep going," he pants, before diving back down to continue slobbering on Frank's balls. Barney jerks Frank's cock with one muscular hand as he sucks and licks his hairy balls, devouring them like they're the tastiest thing he's ever had in his mouth. You groan thankfully as Frank's asshole squeezes tighter each time Barney sucks one of his nuts with extra force. "I'm gonna cum inside you now," you pant, starting to get a little tired, "you ready?" "Yes! Yes, fill me up!" "Fill him just like you filled me," Barney moans, using his free hand to reach back and finger his recently creampied asshole. "Alright, here it comes!" You slam yourself to the base as you reach your orgasm, creamy spunk flooding out of your shaft and into Frank's colon. The heat of your splooge inside of him tips Frank over the edge, and his own cock sprays all over his hairy chest as he squeals. Barney moans happily, mouth still filled with Frank's testicles. You slip your flagging dick out of Frank's ass slowly, watching pleased as cum starts to dribble out. Barney pulls his face away from Frank's sweaty crotch, and you lower Frank's tree trunk legs down with a relieved sigh. You drop back onto your haunches on the break room floor to catch your breath. Frank is too blissed out to do much more than giggle like a school girl, but Barney looks flustered and needy. "Please, fuck me again, Taylor," he begs, still fingering his dripping hole. "I'm a little worn out," you laugh, motioning to your steadily shrinking cock, "man's gotta have some time to rest." Barney whimpers and crawls over to you, face pressed into the floor. "Please, I need it," he pleads, plunging his fingers into his ass faster, "it's not the same when I do it!" The huge man grovels and begs you to fuck him again, and you can't help but feel sorry for him. "Look, I've got my limits," you say, "I can't fuck you with my dick again, but I can help you get off." Barney is ecstatic, thanking you repeatedly while he fingers himself shamelessly. It takes some help from you, but soon Barney is doing a half shoulder stand against the store room wall. His legs are bent back as far as he can over his head, making it so his limp cock and balls are directly above his head. "Gotta be honest, didn't expect you to be able to do that," you say, impressed at Barney's flexibility. He just moans in response, and you get to work. You stand up so you have easy access to the burly man's leaking asshole and start slowly working two fingers inside. He groans happily as you start to finger fuck him, and you pick up your pace. You add another finger every few minutes, once his asshole has had the chance to adjust. Soon, with your cum as lube, you have your entire fist inside Barney's ass, and you are fucking him with it. Barney can't even speak words, the man in too much pleasure to do anything but babble gleefully. With your free hand you grab Barney's dick and start to jerk it softly, waking it up. As his cock becomes more erect, his asshole becomes tighter around your wrist, and his moans become sluttier. Under the combined assault of your fist up his ass and your fingers around his hefty cock, Barney cums. He sprays his load directly onto his own face as he shrieks in pleasure, coating his black skin in hot white jizz. You give the man a few moments to ride his high before you slip your fist from his ass. His hole gapes lewdly, and you can't help but be impressed at just how much he took for an anal virgin. "Well, wasn't that a fun time, 'ey gents?" Neither Barney nor Frank respond, both still completely blissed out. You chuckle and wipe your arm off on your shirt, removing it entirely and throwing it onto the floor. You let them know you'd love to do this again sometime, before slipping out of the store room and letting the two blanked out men rest. "H-hey, Taylor," a soft voice says, making you turn. Samuel is standing nearby, and you wave him over to you with a smile. "Hey Sam," you say, "to what do I owe the pleasure?" "Um. Um. Well, you said..." Samuel has trouble forming a sentence, too busy running his eyes over your naked top-half. "Oh, of course," you say, eyes snapping to the nearest wall clock, "lunch! I said we'd do lunch together." The taller man nods meekly, and you take his hand in yours. "Well, let's go grab something to eat, hm?" You drag Samuel along with you as you make your way to the cafeteria a few floors down. People stare as you go past, but if anyone has anything negative to say about the half naked man groping the ass of the man next to him as the two go to lunch, they keep it to themselves. "If you're confident enough, you can live life as you please," you tell Samuel, before you drag him into a nearby bathroom and rail him against the wall as he begs for more. ***ENDING: Confidence is All You Need***(set:$ED16 to true) [[Restart->Intro]]

The voice from behind you catches you entirely off-guard, and you snap around in surprise. You're even more surprised when you see that the door you just walked through is gone, and you're instead in a neon-lit room. The neon lighting is bright enough to see by but doesn't quite illuminate the corners of the room, giving the place an eerie, surreal quality. The room is small, with a large leather couch near the far wall and two leather recliners either side. Splayed casually along the couch is a strange woman wearing a skimpy black dress. "Dress" may be too kind a word for it, as it's basically just a piece of black fabric stretched to breaking over her torso. She has massive synthetic tits that are barely covered by the dress, only held in place by a prayer. Her huge ass doesn't fit into the dress, and from the angle she is laying at you can clearly see her puffy, naked twat. She has relatively long legs in proportion to the rest of her body, and her feet are covered by tall black high heels. You drag your gaze up her vulgarly displayed body to her face to examine her features. Her lips are giant and pouty; slathered with bright pink lipstick and curled into a hint of a smile. Her eyes lock with your own and you feel like a rabbit before a fox. Her eyes are bubblegum pink and seem to glow independant of the neon lights. The bright colour betrays an intense intellect hidden behind them, and you gulp fretfully. The woman's grin widens, and her fingers stop twirling in her blonde pigtails. "Hello there, Taylor." With surprising dexterity, she swings herself off of the couch and onto her feet. She casually adjusts the hem of her dress so that it covers her pussy, and then reaches up and adjusts the large black choker around her neck. The choker is plain black all over, but has a stylised letter 'N' made from what seems to be silver attached to the front. "You must be Natasha," you say surprisingly calmly. The woman smiles evilly and puts a hand into her cleavage. "Yes. We both know why you're here, so let's get straight to the testing, shall we?" You don't have the chance to ask what testing she is talking about, because she immediately pulls a handgun from between her breasts and points it right at you. You stumble back in shock, dropping your suitcase and handbag as the gun fires. (b4r:"solid")+(corner-radius:8)[|cloaked>[(link-reveal:"The power of Chronos calls to you...")[(change:?passage,(text-style:"blur"))(dialog:"(text-colour:orange)[**THE COGS OF TIME GRIND TO A HALT**]", "You alone move freely in this timeless realm")(t8n-arrive:"blur")(go-to: "NatashaTimeStop") ]] ]

(set:$NatashaTimeStop to true)You're too shocked to move, eyes fixed on the bullet millimetres from your face. If you'd moved even a fraction of a second slower, your brains would currently be decorating the walls. You clasp a hand to your face to cover your mouth as you retch. Adrenaline and fear have you fit to vomit, but you manage to keep your breakfast down. "Jesus fucking Christ," you gasp, gut roiling, "what the fuck is going on?" It takes a while for you to compose yourself, and your hands are still trembling when you turn to take stock of the situation. Natasha is standing tall a few metres from you, arm outstretched. The gun in her hand still has plumes of smoke and sparks around the muzzle. Her face is twisted into a smug grin, sharp eyes partially closed in what you imagine was a reaction to the gun firing. You walk closer to the big-tittied would-be murderer to examine her body more. "Nice tits, cunt," you say to the immobile woman(if:$SandraTimeStop is true)[(text-colour:cyan)[, "I didn't think someone could have more blatantly fake tits than Sandra, but here we are."]](else:)[.] You bite your lip lecherously and reach forward to squeeze the giant silicone orbs. "It's only fair that I get to cop a feel since you tried to- GAH!" As your fingers make contact with Natasha's boobs, an electrical shock runs up your arms and through your body. You stumble back in pain as (link-reveal:"time resumes once more.")[(dialog:"(text-colour:orange)[**THE COGS OF TIME RESUME THEIR SOLEMN ROTATION**]", "Time flows freely once more") (go-to: "Natasha2") ]

The office is silent around you, but you feel unusually ill at ease. Something feels... off. Somehow. You can't explain it. "What is going on?" You hop to your feet and look around the office, searching for the source of your unease. Your colleagues are all frozen around you as usual, halted in the middle of whatever task they were doing. Except one. Your stomach drops as the cloaked figure turns to face you. The long black cloak they wear flows ethereally around them, seemingly defying gravity. You cannot see beneath their deep black hood, but you are certain they are staring right at you. You take a frightened step backwards, heart pounding in your chest. "H-how?" You can barely squeak out the word, throat tightening in fear. The figure remains silent, content to simply observe you for the time being. You look around the room, wondering if perhaps you didn't freeze time, but there is no movement except for your own. And the occasional shift of the unknown figure's cloak. Deciding that being silent will only get you so far, you turn back to the figure to ask them some questions. "You may call me Clotho," the figure says, throwing you off yet again. Their voice is surreal; almost like a human's, but imperceptibly different. It almost sounds like there are several voices all speaking in tandem. "You need not fear me, Taylor," Clotho says, "I create life. I do not take it." "Clotho... Clotho..." You whisper the familiar name to yourself, wracking your mind for who this stranger could be. "Clotho... You mean like the Fates?" The hooded figure nods. "That is what most humans know us as, yes. Though we prefer the moniker 'Moirai'." You take a moment to take stock of what you're hearing. This person claims to be one of the three Fates. Or rather, Moirai, you suppose. The ones who govern the threads of life in Greek mythology. You'd assume them some sort of maniac if you weren't currently in a state of suspended time. No one else has ever moved while time has been frozen, and yet this "Clotho" figure is doing just that. As if to punctuate your thoughts, Clotho strides closer to you until they are only a few steps away from you. "You have caused many disruptions in the tapestry of existence," Clotho says, "you must be judged; examined to find the cause. And the solution." They wave a cloaked hand in front of you and you see something small and red wriggle out of your chest. You watch, alarmed, as what appears to be string pulls itself from your chest and starts to bunch up above Clotho's cloaked hand. After a few strange moments, the end of the string leaves your chest and the entire bunch is visible. It is messy and jumbled, like a shoelace thrown into a pocket and retrieved days later. You reach out and grab the bundle of red string carefully, instinctively knowing that this thread is both very important and very personal. "Your Fate has been weaved. Now it must be measured." Without warning, Clotho twists and contorts erratically. You hop backwards in alarm, bumping into one of your frozen colleagues. Clotho continues to bend, doubling over and curling up into a ball. Soon the hooded figure disappears entirely, not a trace of them to be seen. "What the fuck?" You stare where the figure was moments before with a mixture of confusion and fear. You clutch the bundle of string to your chest tightly, feeling strangely reassured by its presence. "Clotho tends to be a bit on the dramatic side, despite what they say." You jump in fright at the new voice, spinning to see a tall elderly man with pale blue skin. He is wearing a formal suit that brings to mind a butler or waiter. His short white hair is neatly combed back, and his moustache is small and trimmed. He is smiling, revealing perfect white teeth, but the smile doesn't reach his eyes. Mostly because he doesn't have any. It is as though the skin on his face grew over his eyes. "I hope my appearance does not frighten you," he says politely. You nervously shake your head, then realise he can't see you. "Uh, no, I'm just a little caught off-guard is all," you say, doing your best to calm yourself. The blue man smiles widely, then extends a hand towards you. "May I see your thread?" His strange choice of words aside, you pull back a little. You are reluctant to hand over something so important to a total stranger. Apparently recognising your aprehension, he says, "I beg your pardon. Where are my manners?" He stands up tall and straightens his collar, then clears his throat. "My am Lachesis, Measurer of the Life Thread." You aren't sure whether to be relieved or even more worried, but you decide that simply standing around being confused isn't going to help you make sense of the situation any faster. "Taylor," you say, "though I imagine you already know that." "Indeed," Lachesis chirps, letting his shoulders relax some, "you have caused quite a stir recently. I am very glad to meet you, Taylor." The introductions out of the way, Lachesis extends a hand towards you once more. "Now that you know why I would like it, might I have your thread?" A strange nervousness washes over you as you imagine handing the man your life thread, but you swallow it down and step forward, placing it into his hand. Something in the back of your mind tells you that all of this is just a formality, so attempting to keep the thread from him would be of little use. Lachesis smiles broadly once more as you place the thread in his open palm. "Thank you." He begins running his fingers along the thread, and you watch his face with interest. Although he lacks eyes, he is still very expressive, his eyebrows raising and lowering as he examines the thread. His mouth curls just as often, flitting between a focused purse and a knowing smile. "How intriguing," he whispers, making you flinch in surprise. "Something wrong?" You don't like how interested Lachesis is in your life thread. If he truly is like the Fates of myth, he has surely examined more threads than you could ever imagine. For him to find yours different? That could be very frightening. "Hmm, I don't know just yet," he says idly, almost as if he were talking to himself, "I've not yet seen anything dangerous, but there is a strange... familiarity to this thread. It quite reminds me of the thread of a lad I measured not too long ago. He was thrust into quite the chaotic situation too..." If his eyes could go wide you imagine they would, and he chuckles sheepishly. "Pardon me," he laughs, "I tend not to have an audience as I work, so I forgot myself. I really shouldn't disclose details of another's life to a near stranger." His face becomes stern as his fingers continue to work, and it isn't long before he is frowning in earnest. "That certainly is an issue," he whispers, and your heart sinks. He raises your thread up in his hands and pulls it taught in front of him. "Look here," he instructs, using his pinkie to point to a spot on the thread, "tell me what you see." You step closer an look closely at the red string. Just above his pinkie, you can see what appears to be a frayed section that is splitting apart into two separate threads. "It's splitting into two," you say, looking up at him, "is that normal?" "It most certainly isn't," he says, and you gulp audibly. "What's wrong with me?" Lachesis tucks your life thread into his blazer pocket and crosses his arms behind his back. His mouth curls in thought as he contemplates how to describe the situation to you. "Long and the short of it, Taylor, is that you are becoming un-anchored from time." You don't really know how to respond, resorting to giving the blind man an utterly confused expression. "I want to ask you a few questions, if I may?" You nod, then shake your head at your foolishness and respond with, "sure." "Very good," he says, nodding happily, "for a start, how does it feel to take a life?" You are taken aback by his question, and it takes you a few moments to formulate a response. "Well I- I don't know. I haven't-" "Come now," he grins, "they were all frozen in time as it happened for the most part, but surely you remember how it felt." You steady yourself and think for a moment. The first time Natasha asked you to kill someone had your heart racing. You spent what you can only imagine was an hour pacing back and forth before you finally worked up the courage to stab the poor bastard in the head. From then on, each time got a little easier, until nothing but the mildest pang of guilt remained. "A little guilty, I suppose," you mutter, not meeting his non-existant gaze, "but then, not enough for it to ever give me much pause after the first few times." Something about what you just said doesn't sit right with you, but you can't place your finger on what before Lachesis starts to talk again. "Understandable," he says, "moving on. What is it like to have sex with people who are unable to know it is happening or consent to the situation? Like that Sandra woman, for instance?" You turn bright red and hide your face in shame. The way he says it makes you sound like some sort of rapist. And if you're brutally honest with yourself, you are. You've fucked quite a few people while time was frozen, leaving them none the wiser once you're done. In all honesty it never really occured to you that it wasn't exactly a good thing, since you usually found yourself justifying it with one excuse or another. Laid bare however, you felt ashamed. "I mean, I never really thought about it too hard before," you begin, screwing up your face, "I always found justifications for my actions. Like that guy at the take-away who was being a dickhead. I saw it as karma, or something equally stupid. Faced with it though, I feel bad about it, especially since it happened to me." Again, a niggling thought in the back of your head has you thinking that something about what you just said doesn't sound right. You think hard to try and find the source of your unease, but Lachesis breaks your concentration once more. "I see, I see," he says knowingly, "and I see you are nearly at the cusp of a revelation here as well. One final question then, Taylor." You look up at him nervously, and his wide grin does little to settle your nerves. "Were you planning on going to Mr Andrews' office this morning?" This question is so unlike the previous two that it catches you even more off-guard than they did. "Um, well, yeah," you stammer, "obviously. Why wouldn't I?" "Because you know what will happen in there, don't you?" "Yeah, he will give me an ultimatum about my... job... then I will..." The full weight of the situation dawns on you, and you almost tumble back in shock. You know the future. No, not *the* future. *Many* futures. How is it that you know what it is like to take a life? Because Dusk and Ms Chronos have done that very thing. How do you know what it is like to assault someone while time is frozen, even though before today you'd never done such a thing? Because you do so many times from this day forward. How do you know what happens inside Andrews' office this morning? Because you've played out the same situation many times before. "How is that-? What's going-? I don't feel well." Your head starts to spin, and your gut tumbles. You want to throw up, but you can barely figure out which way is up to begin with. Your legs drop out beneath you and you slump to the floor, clutching your head. Blood trickles slowly from your nose, hanging in the air before you once it gets far enough from your face. "What's happening to me?" Lachesis doens't move from his spot as he addresses you. "The power of Chronos is not something meant for the hands of mortals," he explains coldly, "mortal minds are not made to comprehend time in a non-linear fashion. You have lived many different lives outside of time, and it is causing you to disconnect from your reality." You look up at his weakly, wiping the blood from your nose with your arm. "What will happen to me now?" "That choice is up to you," he replies. He pulls your thread from his pocket and holds it down so you can see it more clearly. "Life threads are not meant to be split into multiple strings. If things continue on as they have been, you stand to not only destroy yourself, but the very fabric of reality." He tilts his head down to look at you with his eyeless face. "Your thread has to be severed, one way or another." Your heart sinks. You know full well what that means. "If you choose to do so willingly, it need not be a painful affair." [[Run from Fate->Atropos]]

You look up at Natasha from the floor, the last remnants of a gunshot ringing in your ears. Your whole body is twitching painfully, like you've got a direct current of electricity flowing from your fingertips to your soles. "Gah, ow, what the hell?" Natasha looks confused momentarily, but her smile returns as she looks down to see you. "You should be wary of booby traps," she titters. You're just as confused. You have no idea why you're suddenly on the floor at her feet, or why you feel like you're being electrocuted. "The fuck are you talking about?" You don't know what she is saying, and you're too focused on the pain in your spasming limbs to really focus. "I was making a joke about how my tits are magically shielded," she snorts, putting the gun back into her cleavage. "What do your tits have to do with anything?" "You tell me," she says, walking back and dropping onto the couch. She spreads her legs wide and relaxes into the leather, seemingly unbothered by the fact she is flashing her cunt to you. "What little tricks did you just use to avoid death, hm?" The pain in your body starts to abate, and you get to your feet shakily. "I don't know what you're talking about," you groan, rubbing your arms gingerly. Natasha raises an eyebrow, cocking her head to the side. "You're telling the truth, aren't you? You really don't know what you just did." You shake and nod your head at the same time, too rattled to choose which is the more appropriate gesture. Natasha grins again, then pats the couch next to her. "This is going to be quite intriguing then," she says, "consider yourself my guest here at Elysium for the foreseeable future, Taylor." A little wary but suddenly utterly exhausted, you sit down gently next to Natasha. You don't really trust this strange woman that just pulled a gun on you, but some feeling inside you that you can't quite explain tells you that you'll be alright even if she pulls any more funny business, so you let your tired body relax. She reaches into her cleavage and procures a bottle of champagne and two champagne flutes. You take one of the glasses from her as she hands it to you, then watch with no small amount of intrigue as the bottle pops open of its own accord. You let Natasha fill your flute and then clink it against hers when she raises it to you. [["To a very intriguing future, darling!"->Agent1]]

You smirk as the electronic lock beeps and clicks, letting you open the door quietly. You peek through the crack in the door as you reattach the front plate to the keypad, checking to make sure there is nothing waiting for you on the other side. As soon as you have ascertained that the coast is clear, you feel a familiar tingling in your chest. You brace yourself for the sudden lurch, and then- You find yourself seated at a computer desk. The monitor in front of you has several open windows on it, and you take a few seconds to scan each one for the information you're after. Your foot bumps into something fleshy as you adjust your seating position, but you ignore what you assume is the corpse of the computer's owner and you start to search the machine. Your gloved fingers fly across the keyboard and move the mouse at lightning speed as you alter the computer's settings. You withdraw a thumb-drive from your vest pocket and insert it into the machine, your hacking program booting immediately now that the computer's defenses are disabled. Files start transferring between the drive and the computer, and you nod, satisfied. "Don't move." You freeze as something is pressed against the back of your head. "Hands up," the security guard says, jamming the barrel of his gun into your head more harshly, "no sudden movements." You curse internally at Dusk for missing a security guard, and slowly start to raise your hands. As if responding to your silent insult, you can feel the tingling in your chest again. "Now, you're gonna get up slowly and URK-!" The guard ends his sentence from the floor, and your heart is hammering in your chest. Your face feels flush with anger, so you shudder to think what Dusk may have done to the poor guard. You place the gun that is now in your hand down on the desk next to you quietly and continue your espionage. "Thanks," you whisper to yourself, partly sincerely, partly sarcastically. It only takes a couple more minutes for your program to flash up its completion message. You remove the drive from the machine and tuck it safely back into your pocket. The last processes of your program initialise once the drive is removed, and the computer starts to wipe the drives, rewriting them with junk data. Once the machine hangs and crashes you get to your feet, carefully stepping around the two bodies at your feet. Your role complete for now, you take a deep breath as the tingling returns. You're standing on the roof, the night wind blowing your now loose hair wildly. Dusk's message is loud and clear, and you sigh with relief. Another job well done. You reach into your pocket and pull out a small compact mirror. Natasha's face shimmers into view on the small mirror. "We're finished up here, Nat," you say, running a hand through your hair. "Great work, Dawn," she chimes, "the driver will meet you at the pick-up point in five minutes." "On our way." [[The night's events, from another point of view.->Agent2]]

You wander lazily through the courtyard, moving from guard to guard at your leisure. You rifle through the pockets of each frozen guard, searching for anything that might make Dawn's job a little easier. "Nothing here either," you sigh dejectedly, "sorry Dawn, looks like you're going to have to get through the doors manually." You take the unopened pack of gum from the pocket of the last guard in the courtyard and put it in your vest for later, then continue your mission. It takes a few trips around the building to find the least guarded doorway. You glance around to see if there are any cameras watching this door, but spot none. Satisfied, you close your eyes and release your power to let Dawn do her part. --- With the door now open, you make your way inside the building. The blueprints Natasha gave you seem to be fairly accurate, as you're able to follow the memorised path with little need for detour. You spot the occasional security guard or employee, but the building seems to be surprisingly understaffed for such an important place. Shrugging, you continue your journey to the IT room at a casual pace (though you do stop to rummage through one of the fridges you see in a lunchroom as you pass by.) You finish off the last of the sandwich as you arrive at the IT room. Now thoroughly full, you open the door and scan the room. There is only one person in the room full of computers: a single woman sitting at a computer. You walk over and examine her. She is relatively young, with tired eyes that suggest overexertion. Her skin is pale, and her brown hair is tied back in a clinical ponytail to keep it out of her face. She is pretty, in a nerdy sort of way. "What a shame," you sigh, running a hand over her cheek, "I'm sorry babe." You stroke her hair and contemplate momentarily. It seems like such a waste to kill such a pretty young thing, but needs must. "If it wouldn't dull Dawn's senses, I'd totally fuck you right now," you tell the frozen tech as you kiss her softly on the lips, "but we gotta do what we gotta do, right?" With some regret you step behind the woman and snap her neck. If time were not frozen she would have crumpled to the floor instantly. As it stands she is still seated in her desk, brow furrowed in concentration, her head twisted grotesquely out of alignment. You drag her out of the chair and lay her down on the floor so that she won't flail or move when time resumes. You don't spot anyone else in the room with one final glance around, so you sit down in the computer chair and let Dawn take over. --- "Not my greatest moment," you mutter to yourself, the barrel of the gun pressed against your head serving only to emphasise the point. With a frustrated sigh you get up and face the security guard you missed in your earlier inspection of the room. "I really should pay more attention in future," you grumble, taking a pen from the desk. You angrily push the guard onto the floor and drive the pen into his eye. You do so carefully to avoid touching any of the blood within and having it stain you. Once the pen is lodged in his face, you stamp on it a few times, making sure to dig up as much of his brain as you can. "Teach you to sneak up on me," you spit, grabbing his gun and sitting back down in front of the computer. --- With Dawn's task complete, you walk straight out of the IT room and head for the stairs. You don't take any detours any more, still a little miffed at yourself for making such a rookie mistake. You don't pass by anyone else, and before long you've arrived at the stairwell. "If there's one luxury Dawn has over me, it's elevators," you pant as you ascend the stairs. It takes too long for you to reach the roof, and you throw open the door to the roof triumphantly. "Bloody hell, tonight was a night," you sigh as you remove your face mask. You sit down and let yourself relax for a little bit. You wish you could feel the cool night air blowing against you, but alas. One of the many pleasures denied to you in this state. Denied to Dusk. You frown. You've felt somewhat melancholy lately. And by 'you' you mean Dusk. You. Not the 'you' that exists in real-time. *You* you. It's almost alienating. It's certainly confusing. There is a huge disconnect between the you that exists right here in frozen time, and the you in real-time. Dawn and Dusk. Two sides of the same person. Separate forever. Except that's not entirely true. As Dusk, you have all of Dawn's memories. You flow into suspended time seamlessly. For all intents and purposes, Dusk is Dawn. But Dawn is never Dusk. When time resumes, Dusk ceases to exist. It almost feels like death in a sense. Dawn never remembers anything about Dusk. For huge swathes of time, Dusk stops being real. The only time you get to exist, is in times like this. Time frozen. All alone. Dusk never gets to make meaningful connections. Dusk never gets to interact with others the way Dawn can. Dusk never gets to be a part of people's lives. Dusk can't take the elevator. Dusk can't feed animals, or go driving, or cook a meal. Dusk can't even feel the cool night air on her tear-stained cheeks. You wipe your eyes and hop to your feet. You swallow the lump in your throat and stop dwelling on things you can't change. Like it or not, this is your life now. For better or worse, this is how you have to live, even if you wish there was some other way. Some way you could feel truly alive. You shake your head to clear your thoughts and get ready to release the power of Chronos. You are unusually hesitant. All the overthinking has made you nervous. Whenever you release your hold on time, it feels like this could be the last time Dusk ever gets to exist. It's inevitable. One day, Dusk will give way to Dawn for the last time, and will cease to be. You snort derisively and shake your head again. You technically have all the time you could ever need to stand about and mope, but nothing will change no matter how long you sit here. "Mission complete," you whisper to yourself, "you're up, Dawn." You grip your mask in your hand tightly and release the power of Chronos, silently praying that this won't be the time Dusk disappears for good. ***ENDING: To Dawn; From Dusk***(set:$ED18 to true) [[Restart->Intro]] |cloaked>[ [[At the same time, in Elysium...->NatTwinEP]] ]

You scramble to your feet and rush past Lachesis. There isn't any chance you're going to just sit idly by and let yourself die. You hear him sigh as you run towards the stairwell door, but a quick glance back reveals he isn't even making a token attempt to stop you. You smirk as you throw open the door and start to race down the stairs. --- Lachesis sighs loudly and shakes his head. He reaches over and grabs a nearby chair, pulling it out from beneath its current occupant. With a weary grunt, he sits down and starts to trace his fingers over Taylor's life thread. "A pity that this is how things have to go," he bemoans. "Running from Fate is a fool's errand, right Lachesis?" The childish voice comes from behind Lachesis, but he doesn't turn to meet them. "Indeed," he says softly. A very young girl with matching blue skin wanders up beside him, watching lazily as he examines the thread. She tosses her white braids over her shoulder as she leans in to get a better look of the thread. "I see what you mean," she chirps happily, "this could have ended in such a interesting way had she just accepted things!" --- You burst out of the fire door and into the back alley. You frantically dart your gaze about and find the nearest street, running towards it at top speed. You curse angrily as your heel snaps when it meets the pavement, and you throw your shoes off hurriedly. You don't know where you are headed, but you keep running down the street, away from the Aion building. --- Lachesis continues his examination of the life thread in silence, while the little girl hums a non-descript tune. "While this is certainly going to be easier for me," the girl says, breaking the silence, "it's certainly a lot more boring. Why couldn't she have just accepted the way things were?" "Humans are rarely good at accepting Fate," Lachesis chuckles. The girl shrugs and starts to rock back and forth on her heels, her frilly red dress swishing around her knees casually. She occasionally lifts her large teddy bear by the arm and pulls it to her chest to hug, before letting it drop back to the floor, held up by the arm by her dainty hand. --- It takes some effort to keep up your pace as you make your way down the crowded street. Weaving between people isn't easy at speed, and you find yourself bumping into more and more pedestrians as your stamina wanes. You bump into the back of someone and lose your balance entirely, toppling over onto your backside. You hiss, the jarring contact with the cement sending ripples of pain up your spine. You look up to the person you bumped into, and your heart begins to hammer even faster. "You!" Clotho says nothing, the hooded figure simply standing over you with their hands at their sides. "I won't let my Fate end here!" You see a subway entrance on the other side of the street, and you grin wildly. You scramble to your feet with a laugh and race onto the road to escape your cloaked pursuer. --- "Here we are," Lachesis says, holding the life thread up to the child. The child examines the thread with a confused look. "Are you sure this is the right spot?" "Have I ever measured incorrectly before, Atropos?" The child shrugs again and lifts her teddy bear, this time with care. She unzips the back of it and reaches inside, withdrawing a pair of large sewing shears from within. With a vicious smile she drops the bear to the ground and uses both hands to align the shears with the thread. --- You weave around a car as you dash onto the road. You glance over your shoulder as you shimmy past two very close cars to see if Clotho is following you. They aren't and you laugh triumphantly. Just as you reach the middle of the road, a strange sensation washes over you, filling you with immense dread. It's sound. You can hear car horns blaring and people shouting. You spin on your heel in terror, gaze racing past frightened onlookers and coming to rest on the bumper of the truck speeding towards you. [[And so the thread of Fate is severed->FateEnd]]

Lachesis lets the severed thread drop as Atropos stows her shears in the teddy bear's back. The thread seemingly defies the laws of frozen time, landing on the floor softly. "Well, I'm done here," Atropos giggles happily, "I'm going now." Lachesis nods silently, and Atropos pats him on the shoulder as she makes her way towards the elevator. The door opens for her and she steps inside. She waves farewell to Lachesis as the doors close, but Lachesis is too focused on the severed thread to notice. "You are unusually morose." Clotho's voice grabs Lachesis' attention, and he turns to face the hooded figure as they walk up behind him. "I never like things ending so sourly," he says, returning his blind gaze to the severed thread on the floor, "I'm not surprised at the outcome. Just disappointed I suppose." "We did our duty," Clotho says, "it is not our place to change things." "Of course. I know that. I just get the sense that something about all this isn't... correct?" The elderly man snorts and shakes his head, getting to his feet with some exertion. "Never mind me," he chuckles, replacing the seat beneath its owner's behind, "something about all this has me a little rattled, I guess." Clotho is silent, and Lachesis straightens his pants. "I shall be over whatever this is very soon, I'm sure." Clotho nods to Lachesis, and Lachesis makes his way over to the elevator as Atropos did. With a curt bow, he walks into the elevator and the doors shut behind him. Clotho stands in the silent office, examining the room. Everything is as it should be, and yet the unease Lachesis felt weighs heavily on them as well. "Strange situations are bound to bring such feelings," Clotho states to the silent office. Seemingly content, they turn and begin to make their way towards the elevator, but stop after a few strides. Slowly, the hooded figure turns back and looks towards the severed life thread on the floor. After several seconds of staring, they move over to it and wave their cloaked hand over the thread. The red string floats into the air, and Clotho tilts their head as they examine the thread. "Impossible." Clotho rolls the thread around in the air several times, examining it from every angle. "How can this be?" The thread was certainly severed, exactly where Atropos had cut it. That part was not strange. What worried the hooded figure was that despite the cut, the thread was still whole. "What could this possibly mean?" Clotho waves their hand and the thread floats over to them, sinking into a fold in their cloak. "I must examine this further." Their job here complete, the figure's body contorts and folds in on itself, disappearing into the air as though they were never there to begin with. The office begins moving normally once more, quickly filling with the sound of rustling papers and the clacking of keyboards. One worker stretches and looks around briefly, before turning to his neighbour and tapping their shoulder. "Hey, did Taylor already leave? I didn't see her go." His colleague shrugs in response, and the worker shrugs his own shoulders. He turns back to his computer and starts typing again, the clicking keys drowning out the faint wail of the ambulance siren in the distance. ***ENDING: A Single Broken Thread in a String of Many***(set:$ED17 to true) [[Restart->Intro]] |cloaked>[ [[In a place outside of time, an unexpected meeting takes place.->ChronosEp]] ]

You stride down the hallways of the secret Aion laboratories with a pleased smile on your face. You are ecstatic that your most recent experiments have been providing such fruitful results. You love advancing the field of scientific research. Your smile grows wider as the different people you pass avert their eyes and scurry out of your path. You command such power that people fear to look at you, lest they draw your ire. It's an electrifying feeling. You run this lab however you damn well please, and as long as you keep making new discoveries, the money keeps rolling in. "I wonder if we can use those tits to farm the gas," you mutter to yourself, pulling a notepad and pen from your lab coat to jot down your thoughts, "gas that instantly incapacitates could be a potent weapon. And of course there is the recreational use. We could turn it into miniature canisters for personal consumption. Depends how strong it is I suppose. I'd like to see what would happen to someone injected with the serum while under the effects of the gas. Hmm... That would require test subjects, and I'm out. Have to requisition some more. Could just use one of my assistants? No, my current group only just started being acceptable. Decisions, decisions. In the meantime, maybe I-" You are jolted from your thoughts as someone bumps into you. You stumble back a step and angrily stuff your notepad into your pocket. There is something wet down your front, and you can see what appears to be coffee running down your pristine white lab coat. You glare at the petrified lab tech at his knees in front of you, incensed. "I'm so sorry, Doctor! Please forgive me! I wasn't paying attention!" He scrambles back in terror, but the two guards behind him stop him in his tracks. He turns to look up at them, freezing up as he sees one disengage the safety on their rifle. "Please... please..." He snivels pathetically, forehead pressed into the floor in apology. Your mouth curls into a vindictive, cruel grin. "Congratulations," you sneer, shucking off your lab coat. You pull your notepad from the pocket and drop the coat to the ground, then take the new coat handed to you by one of your assistants that saw the situation go down. The guards grab the grovelling lab tech and haul him to his feet as you don the new coat. You step forward and roughly grab hold of his hair, yanking his face up to look him directly in the eye with a crazed look. "You're going to help me in advancing the field of scientific research!" ***ENDING: Science is Fun... for Her at Least***(set:$ED19 to true) [[Restart->Intro]] |cloaked>[ [[Much later, in your private lab...->LabTwinEP]] ]

Taylor grasps Mr Andrews' hand with a smile. "Aion Corporation is lesser without you, Ms Taylor," Andrews says, firmly shaking Taylor's hand, "we wish you luck on your future endeavours." Taylor thanks Andrews and leave his room with a smile on her face. She waves farewell to Sandra as she heads to the elevator. "I'll call you about lunch soon," Taylor laughs, and Sandra gives her an enthusiastic goodbye as the elevator doors close. It is hard for Taylor to collect her belongings from her desk. All her former-colleagues crowded around her, attempting to say their own goodbyes and give the ex-Aion employee their good wishes. Overwhelmed but in good spirits, Taylor exits the elevator into the lobby with her handbag, and strides out the front door of the Aion Corporation building one final time. Taylor takes a deep breath, basking in the warmth of the morning sun. "It is very nice out here, isn't it?" Taylor turns to face the odd voice, and is a little surprised to see Clotho. "It is," she chuckles, taking several more deep breaths, "I've never felt more free." "Would you like to?" Taylor shoots the mysterious cloaked figure a raised eyebrow. "I dunno how that'd be possible," she says, wondering if the weaver was joking with her. Clotho extends a hand out to Taylor and a small red bow floats above it. "For you," Clotho says. Taylor laughs, and takes the bow from the hooded figure. "Thank you," she says sincerely. "Take care, Taylor," Clotho says, a hint of nostalgia in their ever-shifting voice. "I will," she replies, watching as the weaver of fate vanishes into the air. Taylor grips the red bow tightly in her hand, relishing the gentle warmth it exudes. As she squeezes it, it slowly begins to melt into her skin, eventually disappearing entirely into her palm. The woman makes a fist and smiles at the sky, ready to take on the world. "From now on, Taylor, you're the master of your own Fate." ###***(text-style:"underline")[TRUE ENDING: Master of Fate]***(set:$EDTRUE to true) (text-colour:cyan)[*This is the end! Thank you so much for playing! I hope you enjoyed your time as/with Taylor! If you've reached this screen without use of the cheat menu then you have seen everything this story has to offer. (Unless of course I made a mistake or missed a bug somewhere, in which case you should let me know on the TFGS forums!) You can return to the intro with the link below, but no new content is unlocked after this screen (except for this ending showing up on the ending list).*] [[Restart->Intro]]

With a satisfied smile, you take a swig from your coffee as you watch the results of your latest experiment unfold before you. You had expected your pheromone test to yield decent enough results since this was the fifth iteration of the serum, but you'd once again managed to outdo yourself. "Please, someone stop it! Please!" You ignore the screams of the test subject being brutally raped by the dog and take another sip of coffee. Honestly, the dog wasn't even originally supposed to be fucking the woman. You had the animal brought into the room to terrify her so that you could evaluate how her altered pheromones would react to a state of heightened anxiety. You hadn't imagined her pheromones would make the dog so aggressive that it would break out of the cage just to breed her. You finish off the last of your coffee and place the empty cup down on the desk. Within seconds one of your assistants has replaced the empty mug with a fresh cup of scaldingly hot liquid caffeine. You pick up a clipboard from the desk and start quickly jotting down some notes for yourself. "Help me please! It hurts so much! HEL-" With a frustrated grunt you press the button on your desk that mutes the audio feed from the examination room. You shake your head as you look through the one way mirror, taking in the now silent assault for a little longer as you pen some more notes. Satisfied that you've seen all you need for now, you hand your clipboard to an assistant to input into the database and stretch. You adjust your lab coat and glasses, then lean down and press the communication button on your desk. "I've seen enough," you say into your desk microphone, "please dispose of both subjects and clean the room for the next experiment." The two guards in riot gear inside the room salute their acknowledgement, then draw their rifles and level them at the dog and it's unwilling breeding bitch. No sound can be heard from your observation room as the guards open fire on the canine and the woman, turning the pair into a fleshy, bloodied pile within seconds. The experiment complete, you press the button to close the security shield on the windows and sit down in your chair. It will take the cleaning team ten minutes to sanitise the room for the next experiment, so you decide to spend that time napping. "Once the room is clean, prepare experiment BE-MS-06," you tell your assistants, leaning back into your chair and closing your eyes. There are a few murmurs of assent, but otherwise your assistants are silent as they begin carrying out your orders. They know better than to interrupt you when you nap, unless the next experiment is ready to begin. "Oh, and find whoever was in charge of putting the dog in the cage," you say, your eyes still closed, "that cage was not up to the standards I expect in my lab." A vicious grin creep across your lips. "Inject them with the serum we just finished testing and toss them in with the dogs being used in the hybrid breeding program. If they're still alive and sentient after three days, fire them." A few hushed expressions of "yes Doctor" come from your assistants, and they shuffle about to fulfill your orders. [[Exactly thirteen minutes later...->BreastExpansion]]

(set:$MoiraiX to true)Clotho stands in the void, examining the red thread intently. The thread tumbles over itself as it rotates in the air at Clotho's direction. "I just can't quite understand it," they mutter to themself. An unexpected sound catches Clotho's attention and they return the thread to their cloak. Footsteps. There are footsteps coming from behind them. Footsteps belonging to two frustratingly persistent entities. "Come to talk with me again, have you?" Clotho doesn't turn around, tired of giving the two foolish twins their attention. "My answer has not changed," they state flatly, "I will not help you in your attempt to do the impossible." "How much will it take before you understand the truth of this world?" The question from Efe causes Clotho to sigh frustratedly. "When will *you two* understand the truth?" "We know the truth," Isi replies, "that is why we seek to transcend this world." "Then you do not understand the truth." Clotho's statement thrums with finality, and the twins fall quiet. The pregnant silence is broken only by one of the twins 'tsk'-ing and then the two leave Clotho alone in the void once more. "Will they ever learn?" Clotho withdraws the thread from their cloak and continues examining it. It is perhaps a futile effort; Lachesis is the one who measures and reads the life threads. Clotho is merely the weaver. It is not their place to understand the threads. And yet, knowing this, Clotho stares at the tumbling thread for an age. There is something hidden within that beckons to the timeless entity. Something that they must discover. "Ah." They see it now. Hidden deep in the thread, they see the message left for them across time and reality. How was it that they were able to percieve what should have been imperceptible? The answer, of course, is obvious. "Because it was written that I would." Clotho's cloaked hand reaches out and grasps the thread. The thread quivers under an unknown power, and then ties itself into a bow. With a wave of their hand, the thread vanishes into the folds of Clotho's cloak. "I suppose I shall deliver this to its owner then," they mutter, then vanish from the void. ... [[Restart->Intro]] |cloaked>[ [[XENOS File Added: #664742->MoiraiX]] ]

"Experiment BE-MS-06 is ready to begin, Doctor." Your eyes snap open and you hop to your feet. "Excellent," you say, opening the security shields on the windows. Inside the examination room is a pasty, lanky, unkempt young man. He has a messy beard and messy brown hair, and doesn't seem very comfortable. Not surprising, given that he is naked and standing in a sterile white room with two heavily armoured riot guards either side of him. You lean down to speak into the microphone on your desk. "Greetings," you say, checking the clipboard handed to you by an assistant for the subject's information, "you are Matt, correct?" "Uh yeah, that's me, but I-" "Good," you say, cutting off his rambling, "now, on your Tester Survey sheet you wrote that you have never used any form of hallucinogen, narcotic, or non-medicinal drug. Is this correct?" "Uhhh... yeah," he says shiftily, and you can't help but chuckle to yourself. It was clear to you the moment you saw Matt's profile that he was a habitual drug user. He fits the "lazy stoner" stereotype to a T. You chose him for this trial exactly for that reason. You wanted to see how your latest variation of this serum would affect someone just like Matt, and you didn't really want to go through the hassle of forcefully getting someone addicted to narcotics to test on. It just takes so much time, and you've always been one for immediate gratification. "Excellent, everything seems to be in order then," you say into the mic, "let's begin the experiment." You press a button on your desk and a lab tech enters the room with a large syringe in hand, and Matt's eyes go wide when he sees the size of the needle. "Uh hey, I think maybe I've changed my mind," he grumbles worriedly. He moves to step back as the lab tech gets closer, but one of the guards subtly shifts so the rifle at their back is visible over their shoulder and Matt stops in his tracks. The man scrunches his eyes shut as the lab tech injects his arm with the serum, but the whole ordeal is over quickly. The lab tech nods towards the observation room to confirm the injection was successful, then takes the empty syringe with them as they leave the room. As soon as the lab tech has left the room the guards move away from Matt and stand in the corners of the room without needing instructions. You do love when people do their jobs without needing to be told. "So what do I do now?" "Just stand there for now," you tell him, "we will observe the effects of the serum on you." "Cool, cool," Matt says, scratching the back of his neck and glancing around the room. Everything is silent for a time, bar the occasional clicking of keys as your assistants type. "So like, what is this supposed to-" As if on cue, his chest begins to swell rapidly. His nipples grow puffy and extend out from his chest a good inch or two. The fat on his chest blossoms and bubbles beneath his skin, swelling out alarmingly quickly. After thirty seconds, the lanky young man is standing in the middle of the room, staring bewildered at the large pair of breasts protruding from his chest. They're large enough that his hands disappear into the flesh as he starts to heft them up to examine them, and you can imagine the sudden added weight must be a mild strain on his back. "What the fuck, man?" He is equal parts confused and intrigued at this development, and he starts to play with his tits like a caveman discovering fire. "This is fuckin' cool," he chuckles, moaning slightly as he kneads the flesh lumps, "fuck, this feels nice." His stiffening dick conveys to you that he is turned on by this situation, but you aren't surprised. An enhanced libido is standard operating procedure for this serum. No, you've yet to see anything interesting yet, and you're growing somewhat impatient. This serum has been notoriously volatile in all your previous tests, and yet apparently now it was going to work entirely as intended. Despite your efforts to purposefully choose a subject that you thought was bound to have adverse reactions to the serum, nothing interesting has happened. "What a waste," you mumble to yourself. You're just about to tell the guards to tranquilise Matt and send him to the milking farms when Matt suddenly makes a pained face. Your eyes go wide with excitement and you watch attentively. "Uhh, I don't feel so good," he groans, dropping his fat tits and grabbing his gut. He sways drunkenly and looks like he is going to vomit any moment. With a strained grunt he drops to his knees and your smile widens. Beneath Matt's hands, his belly is writhing like his chest was earlier, and is starting to swell. Two large lumps billow out of his belly and grow to be equally as large as the breasts above them. A puffy nipple forms on each of the lumps and soon Matt is sporting two huge pairs of boobs. "Finally," you hiss to yourself, grinning madly, "let's see something really wild!" "Woah, this is really getting too crazy now," Matt grumbles, doing his best to stand back up. He doesn't manage to, as almost immediately he drops back to his knees with a pained cry. His four massive tits start to bubble like they were liquid, slowly growing larger and larger. "Help... me..." Matt drops onto his back unconscious, smothered by the ever growing orbs of flesh on his torso. The orbs continue to balloon in size slowly, and what little parts of his body you can still see seem to be shrinking. You grab your clipboard and write some notes as you watch, rapt. After ten minutes, all that remains of Matt are two giant pairs of breasts, connected together at the center by a fleshy membrane. Each breast is roughly the size of an excercise ball one would use in a gym, and topped with a fist-sized nipple. The tits wobble, seemingly alive, and you wonder what would happen if someone were to get closer. "Please approach the subject and agitate it," you tell the guards in the room. Warily, the two of them make their way towards the jiggling flesh mounds. One nods to the other and steps forward, hand outstretched. The other readies their rifle and points it at the boob-bunch. The guard tentatively presses their gloved hand against the pulsing flesh, then quickly withdraws as it starts to shake. The breasts rumble and pulsate, then compress. From the nipples erupts a huge spray of misty white gas, quickly filling the examination room. The guards back up in shock and scramble to activate the rebreathers on their helmets, but are unable to move fast enough. They both slump to their knees and then to the floor, rolling around and giggling dazedly. "Get me a- oh. Perfect." You are cut off as an assitant hands you a print-out that lists the chemicals present in the gas. "Cannabinoids, alcohols, all manner of hallucinogens..." You smile widely as you continue to read all the different chemicals currently floating around the examination room. "Oh, this is going to be fun to experiment with," you cackle, jotting down some notes and tossing your clipboard to a nearby assistant. "Alright, lock down the room and get that gas under control. I want a full research team in there ASAP. If the guards are alive, get them tested too. I will be back in fifteen minutes and I want to begin as soon as I step back in this room." Your assistants begin scurrying about, racing to get things ready for your return. [["I'm going for a momentary break."->LabEnd]]

(set:$NatashaX to true)"Great work, Dawn. The driver will meet you at the pick-up point in five minutes." "On our way." Natasha stuffs the phone into her cleavage and moans contentedly as she speeds up the thrusts of her giant cocks into her assistant's thoroughly gaped cunt, the assistant in question squealing her thanks through pleasured gasps. The double-cocked witch grasps her assistant's hips tightly and pulls the naked girl closer to her as she cums, flooding the destroyed hole with gallons of hot jizz. "Well, that was grand," she puffs, though she shows no real signs of exhaustion, "thank you for that my dear." The well fucked girl says nothing, her mind too overwhelmed with pleasure to do more than twitch and spew cum from her pussy as Natasha withdraws her cocks. Natasha nods happily at the mess of a woman on her floor and turns away, her cocks rapidly vanishing into her crotch to be replaced with her usual wet, puffy cunt. She wanders over to the mirror on the wall and taps it. The mirror shimmers and ripples, then settles, revealing a smoky, neon-lit room. "|translate>[(cycling-link: "Hwyl fawr,", "Goodbye,")]" she says to the dazed girl, before stepping into the mirror. As soon as Natasha sets foot into her private room, there is a knock at the door. "Mistress, some people are here to see you," comes the passive voice from beyond the doorway. "Is it who I think it is?" "Yes." Natasha groans loudly and rubs her temples angrily. "These twins are such a nuisance," she mutters. She struts over to the door, but stops herself before she opens it. "You know what, no. Maybe if I ignore them they'll get the hint." She turns and waltzes away from the door, shouting to her assistant to turn them away. With a sigh, she flops onto her favourite leather couch and starts to idly rub her pussy with one hand. She covers a yawn with the other, then lets it drop lazily, her eyes fluttering closed. The sound of the door opening and three sets of footsteps entering makes the bimbo stereotype frown, but she doesn't open her eyes, nor does she stop fondling her slit. "My apologies, Mistress, but I was unable to stop them." "It's fine, darling. You can leave. Go and lock yourself in the free-use booth for an hour as punishment, then for another two as a reward." "Of course," the dispassionate voice says, and it walks away. "What do you two want?" Natasha grumbles the question, despite already knowing the answer. She rubs the bridge of her nose, but keeps her eyes shut, unwilling to do these intruders the decency of looking at them. "We have come once more to ask for your assistance," Isi states flatly, unperturbed by the loud groan of annoyance Natasha gives the whole time. The witch starts to fuck her fingers into her cunt more aggressively, the wet shlicking echoing in the silence. "I said no last time," she huffs, "and the time before that. And before that." "We are close to a breakthrough this time," Efe says, "we are sure with the way things are progressing, we will be more successful in-" "How many times must we go over this? With or without my help, you won't succeed. Give up." The twins each give out a frustrated grunt at Natasha's exclaimation. "Then you will not help us?" "No," Natasha states flatly, before Isi even completes the sentence, "give it up and have some fun instead. Go fuck something. Or each other. Or whatever. Revel in the reality of things instead of trying to fight against it." She withdraws her fingers from her snatch and then licks them clean, before letting her hand drop lazily onto her belly. "Just stop pestering me with your impossible missions." "It is not impossible," Efe says, "we are certain that soon we shall break free of this world." Natasha cackles mockingly, but says nothing, clearly done with the conversation. She starts to relax into the chair a little more, wriggling to find a nice position to nap in. She hears the twins leave after a few minutes of silence, and snorts derisively. "Honestly, those two really have to get it through their heads," she says lazily. She yawns loudly and then settles in for a relaxing nap, an evil smile spreading across her pouty lips. "Or are their futile struggles some twisted entertainment to you?" ... [[Restart->Intro]] |cloaked>[ [[XENOS File Added: #6282742->NatashaX]] ]

You mutter incoherently under your breath as you finish scribbling some more notes. Done for now, you sigh frustratedly and throw your notepad onto the desk haphazardly, then slump down into your chair. You lazily reach over, grab your coffee mug from the desk, and raise it to your lips. A scowl creeps over your face as you realise it's empty, and you toss the mug aside angrily, not paying it any heed as it shatters on the floor. "Imagine it," you grumble, "me, wasting my time with this nonsense. I could be doing something more interesting, but they put *me* of all people in charge of this shit!" You leap to your feet with a huff, knocking your chair aside. "I want to get this shit finished ASAP," you snap, turning back to the strange helmet on the desk, "then I can get back to the work I actually care about." You pick up the awkward helmet in one hand and a screwdriver in the other, then start to fiddle with some of the wiring. "Don't even understand what they want," you mutter, "never even seen those weird twins before. Who do they think they are? Making me do this boring shit. Hate them so much... Gonna do something really crazy once I get back to my *real* work. Fucking bored. Need more coffee." With an angry screech you throw the screwdriver across the room. It smashes something fragile and you grip the strange helmet in your hands angrily. "Fuck this, I'm just going to test it myself!" You stuff the helmet onto your head, not bothering to strap it down properly, then flick the switch on the side. "Whatever this shit is meant to do, it has to be done by now," you growl. A strange tingling sensation starts to run across your scalp, and you furrow your brow. "What is this thing even supposed to-?" ... You remove the helmet with shaking hands and place it down on the table. "Hehehehe..." What starts as soft giggling quickly turns to raucous, manic guffawing. "SO THAT'S HOW IT IS! HOW INTRIGUING!" Still laughing uncontrollably, you grab the helmet and place it into a box for transporting later. "The truth of this world, laid bare before me!" With a vicious grin you throw on your lab coat and march out of your private lab, eager to get back to your experiments. "But what do I care of the truth? It's not like I can change any of it, can I?" ... [[Restart->Intro]]

(set:$RosaX to true)"The mission is a go." The black-clad figure gestures to their identically dressed comrade, pointing with two fingers towards the window. With a nod, the instructed figure dashes out from behind the bushes and across the grass courtyard. Once they reach the window, they send a hand sign back to their companion, indicating they are ready to proceed. Upon recieving the go-ahead, the figure at the window pulls the infiltration tools from their waist and begins to unlock the window from the outside. The window clicks open in seconds, allowing the figure to signal their companion. The figure in the bushes returns their gesture, and the window-cracker opens the window quietly and slips inside. The room is quiet and dimly lit, save for the smouldering fireplace on the far wall. A pot of water is sitting atop the embers, the steam coming from the spout announcing it is close to boiling point. There is not much in the room in the way of decoration. There is a simple table at knee height in the center of the room, and a large folding privacy screen in one of the corners. The room is eerily quiet, and the intruder shudders nervously. After carefully surveying the room to ensure there is no one present, the intruder quickly and silently makes their way to the table in the center of the room. They withdraw a sealed envelope from their belt and place it on the table. Their objective accomplished, the figure turns back to leave out the open window. Eight glowing pinpricks of gold are the last thing the intruder sees before they are dragged into the floor by a thousand strings of silk. A tiny scream for help manages to escape the intruder's mouth before they disappear, but no help comes for them. Indeed, their companion outside waiting in the bushes was ensnared and mummified by those very bushes before they had even slipped through the window. The lights in the room flicker on of their own accord, illuminating the space at last. Madame Rosa adjusts the sleeve of her furisode with a dismissive sniff, wiping away the faintest speck of blood on the back of her hand as she does. The Inn's Madame strides over to the table and eyes the envelope with her cold uncaring gaze. The table shifts and folds slightly, flipping the envelope over so that the front can be read. ''"To Madame Rosa of Kumonosu Inn"'' Madame Rosa stares at the envelope for a few moments, before subtly shaking her head and turning away. As the Madame makes her way behind her privacy screen, a single strand of silk drops from the ceiling and flicks the envelope into the air. The unopened letter flutters across the room, landing neatly in the embers of the fireplace. The heat generated by the paper bursting into flame is just enough to make the kettle start whistling, ready to become a fresh pot of tea for the Madame. ... [[Restart->Intro]] |cloaked>[ [[XENOS File Added: #7672->RosaX]] ]

(set:$DarianX to true)Darian finishes sprinkling the last of the grated cheese over the top of the lasagna and nods contentedly. He takes the tray and puts it into the oven, setting the timer when he is done. "Now, that's everything for tonight sorted," he says to himself as he washes his hands, "plenty of time to relax before-" A loud knock at his front door interrupts him, and he frowns. He can tell just from the knock who is at the door. With a frustrated grunt, he dries his hands and heads to the door to speak with his unwelcome guests. "What do you two want now?" Darian doesn't bother to open the door to speak to the twins. They continue to disrupt his life with their incessant badgering, and he long ago decided that he would not do them the courtesy of speaking to them face to face. Darian is not usually so petty a man, but these two had managed to elicit actual contempt from the man. An impressive feat, for all the wrong reasons. "May we come in?" "No," Darian states flatly, folding his arms with a scowl. The interlopers cannot see him expressing his disdain, but it makes him feel slightly less aggravated. "We wish to discuss-" "No," he says, harshly interrupting whichever of the two was talking, "I refuse to entertain your foolishness." "We know that you have seen her potential. She will be the one to help us escape." "Just like the last one? What happened to him? Hm?" Darian already knows the answer to his question. He doesn't expect an answer. He hopes that they won't answer. He wants these two to leave. "He was not nearly as powerful," one says, to Darian's chagrin, "but you know the full extent of-" "I know exactly how powerful Taylor is," Darian snaps, "she has more potential than any of us." "Then you must-" "And that is why I will tell you exactly what I told you last time: it will not work." Darian whispers a quick incantation and touches the vines growing over the top of the doorway. The vines shudder and shake, and he can sense them growing on the other side of the door. "Leave now," he demands, "and never ask me to help you with your impossible goals ever again." Darian does not need to see through the door to know that the twins are stepping away. He is certain the steadily growing, thrashing vines are an effective enough deterrent to push them back. "If you ever ask me again," he growls, "I will not hesitate to break the unspoken truce between those of us 'in the know'." He can hear them scurry back as a vine lashes out viciously. "I will kill you." Darian stands at his front door for several minutes, waiting until he is sure the twins have left completely. His eye twitches with anger, and a large vein on his forehead throbs. He takes several deep, long breaths to calm himself, reining in his rage. The vines begin to shrink, quickly returning to their normal size. "I do not like how angry those two make me," he mutters to himself, rubbing his temples with his fingers. He exhales loudly then rubs his face. He smirks to himself and moves to start setting the table. "Would it be too much to ask that the only other visitors I receive tonight are the ones I am preparing for?" ... He chuckles, then begins laying out the cutlery silently. He doesn't say anything more until Taylor and her spouse arrive many hours later. [[Restart->Intro]] |cloaked>[ [[XENOS File Added: #327426->DarianX]] ]

**Special XENOS File Access Granted** **(text-colour:orange)[Special XENOS #327426: The Enviromancer]** Special XENOS #327426, also identified as "The Enviromancer", takes the form of a middle-aged man. He is dark-skinned and bald, and stands at |translate>[(cycling-link: "180cm", "6 feet")] tall. He is typically seen wearing a brown leather vest and distressed black denim jeans. The Enviromancer possesses the ability to manipulate biological material. By coming into direct contact with a biological material, he can infuse it with magical energy and manipulate it in seemingly infinite ways. While he can exert control over any biological material, living organisms are the most potent vessels for his magic. Blood in particular is an extremely powerful reagent for him, and as such animals and humans are particularly susceptible to his influence. The Enviromancer can even use his blood to affect targets at range, infusing it with magical energy and then sending it towards a target. The effect of magic performed this way is less powerful, but not by any significant margin. As The Enviromancer's abilities are centered around biological material, denying him access to these materials is the best way of combatting him. Sterilised containment rooms, irradiated areas, and locations primarily composed of metal and stone are the preferred locations if he is to be faced in a confrontation. However, even in these areas he is not powerless, as he can use his own body as a catalyst. It is highly recommended that he is not challenged to a direct confrontation if possible. The Enviromancer has shown a distinct unwillingness to cooperate with us, and all attempts at convincing him have proven unfruitful. The discovery of Taylor and his involvement with her was expected to alter his opinion, but he has instead become more stubborn and unwilling to help us. He will not help us achieve our goal.(if:$DX2 is true)[ **(text-colour:orange)[Special XENOS #327426-A: The Dragon Child]**(text-colour:cyan)[ Special XENOS #327426-A, also identified as "The Dragon Child", is the offspring of Taylor and Special XENOS #327426. She resembles her mother closely, in both humanoid and draconic forms. While The Dragon Child's magical and physical capabilities are far beyond that of both of her parents, she is fundamentally lacking in one particular region: she cannot see beyond the confines of her reality. Although her power is extraordinary and would be an incredible asset, she will never be able to help us in any meaningful way. As The Dragon Child is unable to witness the truth of reality she is not an acceptable substitute for her mother, and cannot help us achieve our goal.] ] (if:$cheat is true)[|cloaked>[ [[Back to Cheat Menu->Cheat]] ] ][[Access New File->SecretDatabase]] [[Leave Database->Intro]]

**XENOS File Access Granted** **(text-colour:orange)[Special XENOS #6282742: The Mirror Witch]** Special XENOS #6282742, also identified as "The Mirror Witch", takes the form of a middle-aged woman. She has pale skin that is artificially tanned, with bleached-blonde hair, and excessive amounts of make-up. She wears a variety of outfits and accessories, but she always wears a black choker with a small silver charm in the shape of an "N". Her bodily proportions are exaggerated to a ridiculous degree, and she self identifies as a "bimbo". Despite her vacuous appearance, The Mirror Witch is exceptionally intelligent and cunning. She plans meticulously for every possible scenario, and always manages to stay aware of our plans despite utmost secrecy. All further plans should be made with the assumption that The Mirror Witch will know them. The Mirror Witch possesses a largely unbounded magical ability. She can manipulate objects and living beings with relative ease, altering all of their characteristics. So too does she possess the ability to manipulate space. Of particular note is her ability to turn reflective surfaces into portals between distant locations, including mirrors that she herself conjures. The Mirror Witch derives her power from the power of belief. Best summarised by the phrase "seeing is believing", her magic is in many ways reliant on the target accepting it as reality. To this end she employs mirrors and exaggerated physical effects in her magic. If the target believes the effects of her magic to be powerful, so it shall become. Her magic can still affect those that are savvy to her guile, but at a greatly diminished rate. If forced into confrontation with The Mirror Witch, one should avoid using their sight as much as possible. Further more, those that are not conscious are barely affected by her magical abilities. The use of hypnotised underlings may be effective, however their relative weakness in comparison to her may make such attempts pointless. Special XENOS: #6282742 has shown disdain and derision towards our attempts at cooperation. She will not help us achieve our goal. (if:$cheat is true)[|cloaked>[ [[Back to Cheat Menu->Cheat]] ] ][[Access New File->SecretDatabase]] [[Leave Database->Intro]]

**XENOS File Access Granted** **(text-colour:orange)[Special XENOS #7672: The Jorougumo]** Special XENOS #7672, also identified as "The Jorougumo", takes the form of a very short, elderly woman of indistinct Asian heritage. She has pale grey skin, white hair adorned with a small wooden comb, and amber coloured eyes. She wears a black silk furisode covered with a white pattern reminiscent of a spider's web. This is not the true form of the Jorougumo, however no information about the Jorougumo's true appearance has been obtained. The Jorougumo herself is secretive and hard to obtain information about. She rarely leaves her home and base of operations. In fact, it is unknown if she is capable of leaving. **(text-colour:orange)[Special XENOS #7672-A: The Web]** Special XENOS #7672-A, also identified as "The Web", is an establishment run by The Jorougumo. It takes the form of a hostel or inn, but this is an illusion. The Jorougumo and The Web are inherently connected to one another. It is believed that they are in many senses one cohesive being. The Web can alter its shape and layout at the whim of The Jorougumo. Any attempts at infiltration have been unsuccessful, as The Jorougumo is innately aware of everything that happens inside The Web. Contact has been lost with all agents that entered the web, and further excursions shall no doubt prove futile until vastly different tactics are employed. Special XENOS #7672 has rejected all attempts at even simple communication, and is actively hostile towards us. She will not help us achieve our goal. (if:$cheat is true)[|cloaked>[ [[Back to Cheat Menu->Cheat]] ] ][[Access New File->SecretDatabase]] [[Leave Database->Intro]]

**XENOS File Access Granted** **(text-colour:orange)[Special XENOS #664724: The Fates]** Special XENOS #664724, also identified as "The Fates", are **cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease cease** (text-colour:cyan)[*ADMINISTRATOR NOTE: THIS FILE HAS BEEN LOCKED BY (text-style:"expand")[(text-colour:red)[lkj^LIU^Vo65i9pL98_-kln]] AND CANNOT BE EDITED*] (if:$cheat is true)[|cloaked>[ [[Back to Cheat Menu->Cheat]] ] ][[Access New File->SecretDatabase]] [[Leave Database->Intro]]

(size:1.5)[Accessing (text-colour:orange)[**Aion Corporation**] Database...] (after: 1s, (cond: visits > 0, 150ms, 0))[= (size:1.5)[Re-initialising...] (after: time + 1s, (cond: visits > 0, 150ms, 0))[= (size:1.5)[Welcome, Taylor.] (after: time + 1s, (cond: visits > 0, 150ms, 0))[= (size:1.5)[Removing Restrictions...] (after: time + 1s, (cond: visits > 0, 150ms, 0))[= (size:1.5)[Accessing (text-colour:orange)[XENOS] Archives...] (after: time + 1s, (cond: visits > 0, 150ms, 0))[= (go-to:"TaylorX")