Just another peaceful night in MGC.
Yet another Anon is just going about his business, in the middle of the night. He really isn’t the sharpest tool in the shed.
Now, why should the story even mention this faceless character?
Because he just happened to be hit on the head with a blunt object, stuffed into a body bag and taken to some depraved brothel, a sadistic cult, maybe even to some mad scientist’s laboratory.
Here’s a hint, it’s the third option.
As you awaken, you wail in pain. How long has it been?
Days? Weeks? Months? …Years?
Your still intact watch tells you that it’s been three hours and a half. Time sure does fly when you’re unconscious. One’s sense of humor dies first. You can see why.
Speaking of ‘still intact’ things, your shirt fits perfectly in that category, even though it is a bit scrunched up, sweaty, cum-stained and, least importantly, milk-stained.
You now remember what happens when you touch the cow. Your sore pelvis makes sure of that. Taking a moment to examine your surroundings, you don’t see anything you haven’t seen before.
It’s still the same cell. Still the same cowgirl drugged into a coma next to you. Still the same floor with stains of unknown origins on it. And most importantly, still the same green-haired loli watching you sleep. Or fixing something on that machine of hers. Or masturbating.
It’s all three, but that’s not important.
You still don’t know why exactly she brought you here, why she brought the cowgirl here, hell, you don’t even know her three sizes yet. But you’ll make sure to find out before you make your escape.
More planning, less joking.
You are, for all intents and purposes, a lab rat. That washboard of a Gremlin made sure you understand that.
It’s already been a week, so you got ahold of the routine: Wake up, eat, experiment, eat, socialize with your fellow lab rats, sleep.
Regarding the experiments, they’re exactly what you think they’d be, perverted sexual encounters with machines and drugs. Lots of drugs, seriously, Lots of drugs. Your fellow cellmates are on some kind of highly concentrated cocktail of venoms and aphrodisiacs at any given moment. You’d feel bad for them, if not for the blissful smiles they always seem to display. It’s getting kind of unnerving, at this point.
For example, the monkey hasn’t stopped masturbating since she started, three days ago. She keeps eyeing you hungrily too, ever since you gave her that initial dicking during the last experiment. Spanking her ass might have contributed to it, but you do not have the self-control needed to resist the opportunity of spanking the monkey.
The sheep isn’t any better, her hair growth has been halted and as such, she’s in a constant heat, just rubbing herself on you. You dread the day when you’ll fall asleep before she does.
The Holst has got it the worst. Her milk production has been sent into overdrive, so she’s constantly leaking. At least you won’t go thirsty anytime soon. You can’t die from drinking too much milk, right?
You hope that you’ll find an opportunity to escape, because, at this rate, you won’t have enough time to even think about it.
Blood suckers like red.
This place smells like a zoo
Beastmen are bred.
What will those mushrooms do?
Poetry. You really don’t have anything better to do.
You found out something useful today. Something that will surely help you in getting out of there.
The lab is inside a plain gray house in the middle of the city. How convenient.
You also came to learn that your dear ol’ jetpack-wearing captor is in debt. At least, that’s what the ‘Nuki loan shark told you. She’s quite the nice girl if you can get past the talk about shekels and bank accounts. It’s in their blood, apparently.
Too bad that she had to get her compensation in that way. Sure, she got all of her orifices filled with liquid lust and cold metal by the time the Gremlin grew tired of her. And you had to console her afterward by firing your load balls deep inside her while whispering about successful business plans, but, she did give you her contact info before she was dragged back to into a fiery pit. Or wherever Danukis go if they can’t make money. You’d rather not think about it too much.
Regarding what happened these last few days? You finally found out what the girls have been experiencing. For the last week, any moment you weren’t resting was spent deepening your relationship with the others. In the most traditional way possible. The kind of orgy that would make even a succubutt blush.
For the last month, you’ve been working on your escape, however, all of that work ended up not being required. How amusing.
It was a day like any other. Routine schedule. You ate, you got to see the effects of wonderland cake up close and you fucked a busty Goblin. Just like any other day.
Yet, at the end of it, something unusual happened. Her machine malfunctioned.
You could see the usually confident and smug grin drain from her face as the mechanical arms pinned her down and ripped her already skimpy clothes to shreds.
Fear spread across her visage as she felt it. The effect of the cake. Her body started to grow larger, more lasvicious, curvy and soft. She meekly called out for help as the machine turned her around, her bare bubble butt pointed at you. The soft jiggling of her cheeks began to draw you in, to mesmerize you.
Quickly breaking out of your ass-induced trance, you were presented with a few choices:
A. To quickly escape.
B. To help her by making a brief introduction on the wonders of butts. (aka take your revenge.
C. To have your revenge along with the other girls.
Now, what is your choice, Anon?