In for an immersive experience

The directional lights pulsed along the floor, guiding her through the ship's maze-like corridors. She kept her head down, though she knew she was alone - the shame of her situation burned hot enough without imagining witnesses. Each step reminded her of her humiliation, not helped by the increasingly unpleasant chafing between her thighs.

She finally reached what appeared to be a sanitation chamber, though it looked nothing like any shower she'd used before. The room was circular with smooth, featureless walls and a slightly raised platform in the center. No visible controls, no showerhead, nothing recognizable beyond the universal "cleaning" symbol etched into the door.

"Welcome to Personal Hygiene Processing," a pleasant voice announced as she entered. "Detecting significant biological contamination. Recommend full-spectrum cleansing protocol. Please remove all soiled garments and deposit them in the receptacle." A helpful bin slid out of the wall.

With trembling fingers, she began peeling the soaked shipsuit from her body. The wet fabric clung stubbornly to her skin, requiring her to actually peel it away in places. The sound it made as it unstuck from her thighs made her cringe - a wet, sucking noise that emphasized her humiliation. As she rolled it down past her hips, the cool air hit her damp skin, raising goosebumps and making her shiver.

"Your elimination accident appears to have caused skin irritation," the AI observed with clinical precision. "Specialized cleansing of affected areas will be prioritized."

Her face burned at the blunt assessment. "It wasn't an accident," she muttered reflexively, then immediately felt foolish for arguing with an AI about whether she'd wet herself on purpose. Why had she thought that would be better?

"Correction noted," the system replied pleasantly. "Your intentional elimination event has caused skin irritation. Specialized cleansing will still be prioritized."

Somehow that was worse. She stepped out of the suit entirely, grimacing at the sodden heap it made on the floor. Her underwear had taken the worst of it, completely soaked through. She peeled these off last, unable to look at them as she added them to the pile.

"Please place all footwear in the receptacle as well," the AI instructed. "For hygiene purposes, a complete refresh is recommended."

She hesitated only briefly before removing her boots and socks, placing them alongside her ruined clothes. Standing naked and shivering on the platform, she wrapped her arms around herself, feeling absurdly ****.

"Initiating full-spectrum cleansing," the system announced. "Please remain centered on the platform. First-time users may experience momentary disorientation during submersion."

"During what—" her question was cut short as the floor beneath her feet suddenly dropped away. She plunged into a tank of warm, viscous liquid that had been hidden beneath the platform. The unexpected drop made her gasp, which she immediately regretted as the strange fluid surrounded her completely.

The liquid wasn't water – it was thicker, almost gel-like, with an opalescent quality that made it difficult to see through. It didn't sting her eyes or feel uncomfortable to breathe, somehow allowing her to take normal breaths despite being completely submerged. The sensation was alien but not unpleasant, like being suspended in warm, liquid silk.

"Specialized cleansing compound activated," the AI's voice came through clearly despite her submersion. "The solution contains dermal regenerative agents, microbiotic balancers, and hygiene enhancement compounds. Please note that the solution includes comprehensive depilation elements for optimal sanitation of users prone to elimination accidents."

If she could have blushed harder underwater, she would have. The system had just politely informed her it was removing all her body hair because it considered her someone who regularly wet herself. Before she could process this fully, she felt the liquid begin to move with purpose.

Currents formed around her, swirling against her skin with precise, almost massage-like pressure. The sensation was startlingly intimate as the gel worked its way between her legs, paying special attention to her inner thighs where the urine had soaked her the most. She could feel a gentle tingling as the solution worked, the depilation process beginning across her body. Watching her own bodyhair dissolve was deeply disconcerting. She wondered how it determined what hair to remove: nothing above her neck was tingling.

"Contamination concentration detected in perineal region," the AI announced helpfully. "Increasing cleansing pressure to affected areas."

The current intensified between her legs, the gel moving with deliberate strokes that felt disturbingly like fingers. It pressed against her labia, separating them gently to ensure every fold was thoroughly cleansed. Similar attention was paid to the cleft of her buttocks, the gel working its way between her cheeks with methodical thoroughness. Even where there was no hair to remove, the fluid was leaving her skin feeling warmer and flushed.

"I detect increased heart rate and skin flushing," the AI observed. "Please be assured that this is normal during first-time processing. The cleansing is impersonal and designed solely for your health and comfort."

Somehow, being told the violating cleaning was "impersonal" only made it feel more humiliating. The gel continued its work, moving across every inch of her body with particular attention to her now-hairless pubic region. The tingling sensation intensified, and she realized with growing alarm that her skin was becoming increasingly sensitive wherever the depilation had occurred.

"The hygiene enhancement compound induces temporary dermal sensitization to promote awareness of cleanliness," the AI explained, as if reading her thoughts. "This will help users maintain vigilance regarding potential elimination accidents in the future."

In other words, the system had deliberately made her skin more sensitive as a reminder not to wet herself again. The paternalistic assumption that she needed such a reminder made her want to scream, but all she could do was float helplessly as the gel completed its work.

After what felt like an eternity, the platform began to rise, lifting her out of the tank. The gel clung to her for a moment before sliding off her body in sheets, leaving her skin completely dry but tingling with heightened sensitivity. She stood naked on the platform, immediately noticing two things: her body was now entirely hairless below the neck, and her clothes were nowhere to be seen.

"Personal Hygiene Processing complete," the AI announced cheerfully. "Your contaminated garments have been processed for sanitization and will be returned to your quarters within two hours. Fresh attire appropriate to your current status has been provided."

A small compartment in the wall slid open, revealing a single garment folded neatly inside. As she approached, she realized with dismay that it wasn't another shipsuit, but something far more minimal – a simple slip-like dress made of thin, pale material.

"The provided garment is designed for sensitive skin following depilation and sensitization treatment," the AI explained. "It will minimize irritation, and maximize ease of removal in case of future incidents."

In other words, the thin dress would be less of a pain to remove than another shipsuit. The 'thoughtfulness' of the system only added to her mortification as she slipped the garment over her head.

The fabric was whisper-light against her sensitized skin, barely there yet somehow making her feel more exposed than if she were still naked. Certainly, it didn't help that it barely came down past the curve of her ass, It clung to her curves in a way that emphasized her body rather than concealing it.

"Your hygiene profile has been updated to include elimination accident prevention protocols," the AI informed her as she stood awkwardly in her new attire. "Future sleep pods will include moisture monitoring and preventative wake-up sequences."

She closed her eyes, wishing the floor would open up and drop her into space. Not only had she wet herself like a child, but now the ship's systems would be monitoring her specifically to prevent it happening again – a constant, humiliating reminder of her lapse in control.

"Thank you for utilizing Personal Hygiene Processing," the AI concluded pleasantly. "Would you like directions back to your sleep pod? The self-cleaning cycle should be complete by now."

"Yes," she whispered, too exhausted and humiliated to do anything but comply.

As she followed the directional lights back through the corridors, she was acutely aware of every brush of the thin fabric against her hypersensitive skin. Each step sent ripples of sensation through her body, the dress caressing her newly smooth, tingling flesh. Without the barrier of body hair or proper clothing, she felt exposed in a way that went beyond simple nakedness – as if a protective layer between her and the world had been stripped away.

The pod was waiting for her, pristine and showing no sign of her accident. She climbed in gratefully, **** for the privacy it offered, only to hear the system announce:

"Moisture sensitivity protocols engaged. Sleep cycle will be interrupted at first signs of elimination preparation. Rest well."

As the pod closed around her, she couldn't shake the feeling that something fundamental had changed – not just her body, but her relationship with the ship itself. It was now watching her, monitoring her most basic functions, prepared to intervene in her most private moments.

And somewhere else on the vessel, she couldn't help but wonder if a certain reptilian prisoner was somehow aware of her humiliation.