Get a ride, hopefully.

Quickly looking around you see no sign of your panties, and most of your cybernetics seem to be offline. With a grin you head back to the building to get your gear, and hopefully make it away from here. You don’t even give it a thought as you effortlessly run down the road and climb back up the wall despite your massive heels. Sadly as you get there you see nothing is there. After a moment of panic you look around the surrounding area and finally, just as you are about to give up, you see the prototype sitting on a broken old cardboard box.

Pissed at the loss of your gear, but invigorated by your belly full of warm cum, you know damn well the only way you are getting out of here is to get a gun and a ride. Weighing your next move, you take a moment to straighten your skirt, top, and use a nearly clean rag and a puddle of water to wipe your face, fixing your makeup a bit, using a broken piece of what looks like an old stainless steel table as a mirror. Looking back out across the city you spot what might be another gang hangout a few blocks to the south.

Slipping down the side of the building effortlessly, despite the loss of cybernetics, and make your way down the street, clutching the case holding the prototype to you protectively. Several minutes later you arrive at the little convenient store with several crotch rockets parked out front. Striding in confidently you are momentarily stunned as a pair of hands belonging to someone you never even saw, grab you, spin you around, and slam you into the wall. You feel someone very strong pressing themselves against your back as a gruff voice whispers in your ear, “What the fuck are you doing here bitch? Who sent you? Who do you work for?”