Get dressed and check yourself out.

Looking at the long list of oddly named sex acts you immediately decide the only thing to do is try to get the hell out of here. You head over to the dresser and start pulling out the perfect outfit, or at least one that you can slip on quickly. Reaching in you pull out about twenty thongs and g-strings and can't help but laugh, finally settling on something more interesting, a pair of vinyl looking panties that completely cover your cute little pussy but has two separating strings that come up the back on either side of your ass so it is left completely bare. You can't resist giving your bare ass a slap once you have them on. Next you decide on a black shelf like bra that doesn't cover your sexy little nipples so they will poke out on your top. The second you see a pair of long thigh high gray knit socks you have to pull them on, and once they are covering your legs you decide a matching zip up hoodie is the perfect top, your computer even informs you that both will enhance your skinweave armor. “Oh cool I still have some cyberwear.” You blurt out as the little glowing pink text of your computer springs into view on the top.

While you are zipping up the top you decide to quickly run some sort of diagnostic or at least some kind of list so you will know what sorts of cybernetics you have. The sexy pink text blinks... “Working.” For several moments before a scroll of text fills your vision: Dual data port link with 3 chip slots... Working, Braindance recorder and playback... Offline, data corrupt, missing modules … and a long list of part numbers or something follows before continuing, Eye modules with night vision, 3x magnification, and flare compensation... normal... error... targeting system missing external link... offline... missing … another scroll of numbers, internal headware memory... error several missing sectors, 3% used, 5% available, 92% read error... working.... error... skinweave armor with enhanced elasticity option... normal, enhanced skeleton and musculature... error... functioning at 30% capacity, recommend replacement... enhanced healing nanites... error... data corrupt... non-functional, recommend replacement... error... error... At this point the computer crashes and begins a reboot sequence. This causes you to get dizzy as your eyes are no longer exactly aligned, not that you are blind, just your eyes almost seem to wander independently. Thankfully this only lasts a few seconds as the computer completes the restart quite quickly. “Well shit.”

As it comes up it also informs you that your tracking device is working normally, and you are connected to the network, but you aren't exactly what sort of device you have implanted that allows that. At the same time it reminds you of your incoming dual appointment in now one minute. “Oh no I am running out of time and I don't even have shoes or pants on.” Quickly you toss around a few pairs of shoes before slipping on a pair of simple pink and white running shoes. Last but not least you grab a pair of tight stylish looking light blue jeans and a thin black belt. Sadly as you are standing there marveling at your stupidity of putting on your shoes before you pull on your pants there is a knock at the door that is forceful enough that you jump a bit and drop the belt on the floor. “Oh no I don't want to be donkey punched. Clutching the pants to your chest you walk over to the door and call out sweetly, “Who is it?”

“Open the fucking door bitch. I ain't got all day.” A gruff voice calls out from outside, and as he does your computer flashes you the information that it is a gang thug looking 6'4” guy built like a linebacker, with unkempt brown hair, a goatee, and gives a warning, “Caution, always armed, do not antagonize. Safe word is strawberries.” Waving your hand in the air at a little icon as if you had done it a million times before sends his description aside and pulls up the info on the second client. He is listed with the name Sam, and the picture is of an equally muscular man standing at just under 6' tall but heavier than the first guy. He has darker skin, most likely South American, you decide, with a bald head and a long thin mustache. Under his picture is the same warning although in his case it doesn't list a safe word it simply says a happy line of, “$100 personal injury bonus, no safe word on file.”

“Oh shit these guys are going to fuck me and beat me half to ****. Why didn't I run sooner?” You whimper softly as you stare at the apparently still locked handle of the door. Quickly looking behind you confirms that the window is barred shut meaning that out this door is the only means of escape.