<b>Luxurious Apartment</b><br/><br/>Rishda had wasted no time once the metamorph's transformation into Alice was complete. With a violence betraying a great deal of pent up lust or frustration, perhaps both, she'd grabbed the neck of the golden skinned woman and flung her down onto the floor. Her green fingers moved to quickly grasp a handful of rainbow coloured hair, which didn't flow its colours quite in the way of the true aurumilia's.<br/><br/>"<span style="color: green">Stuck up, arrogant...</span>" Rishda's body seethed with anger, the well defined muscles of her arms tensing before she struck her free hand against Holn's face. "<span style="color: green">You think you're so damned clever and superior, don't you?!</span>"<br/><br/>"<span style="color: teal">I don't...!</span>" The metamorph's voice was a passable imitation, but the sputtered and pleading tone was quite different from anything Zach would have previously heard.<br/><br/>"<span style="color: green">Of course you do!</span>" Sergeant Krixsol interrupted, likely to maintain the illusion of her fantasy. She struck Holn again, hard enough this time to cause a temporary distortion of Alice's face before it reformed. "<span style="color: green">We've got eyes on you, bitch. One slip up, that's all it'll take and I can lock you up myself. I'll make you <i>beg</i> to work your way to freedom. For now...</span>"<br/><br/>Leaving Holn squirming on the floor, Rishda stalked across the room to a large chest which she opened to reveal quite a large number of oddly shaped instruments. There were enough items of obvious intent to indicate this was a container full of sex toys and restraints, the sheer number and diversity indicated there was something to used on just about any race in the known universe. The peacekeeper strapped a belted device over her crotch, a formidably thick and phallic shape which lit up bright pink with an ominous hum. Various portions of the shaft, molded with bumps and ridges, began to rotate at varying speeds.<br/><br/>"<span style="color: green">For now, all I want to hear are your squeals.</span>" Rishda stalked over to the shape changer's quivering, whimpering form, brandishing what seemed to be a ring gag and body harness.<br/><br/><b>Alice's Enclave</b><br/><br/><span style="color: DeepSkyBlue"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'">"As exquisite as she might be, her previous... tenders still threw her away."</span></span><br/><br/>Despite her humiliation and unrelenting arousal, the snake-woman's seemingly offhand comment struck Syntropy to her core. She refused to believe that she'd been abandoned by Novagene, that they'd have sent her all the way to Dystopia in order to get rid of her. She glared at Siren through the amiable haze which had overcome her back at the bar. No matter what was being said or done it was always this woman whose words cut Syntropy hardest. She tried to block out the lecture which followed her plea for aid, at least at first.<br/><br/><span style="color: DeepSkyBlue"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'">"Tell you what, little bee, swear your name and your being to me, Myarlothe, here and now, and I might be inclined to help you."</span></span><br/><br/>To her own surprise, Syntropy felt a rush of desire at the thought of taking the lamia's offer. If there was anyone worse to obey than Alice Alaigna it was surely Myarlothe. The brief embrace they'd shared earlier had made it quite clear that Syntropy's body, aching as it was for release, would be given the attention she so desperately needed. The golden woman had only shown interest for later use by the patrons of the brothel; Syntropy's basest urges craved immediacy.<br/><br/>She nearly spoke the words only to find that the offer had drawn Alice's attention as well, the two formidable women seemed to be squaring off for a showdown. On top of that a servant had approached Jericho, bidding that he give her his hands for an ointment she was carrying. Glancing about Syntropy noted that the enormous Malcir was helping himself to a servant as well. A new figure had appeared, seeming to be enveloped in a kind of fog, but he (or it) was also given attention by yet another girl.<br/><br/>If there was a moment to escape, it was now. Syntropy began to edge away from Jericho, very slowly... as cautiously as she could muster. Her knees bent slightly as she moved, preparing to leap away if anyone made a move to grab her. Her body wasn't simply easy on the eyes, she could be quick when she wanted and strong if she needed.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>