Lost in the Club, and a Bit Lost in Herself.

As Fennec took a second to compose herself, a waist-high hatch opened on the smooth wall and a small droid rolled out to retrieve the package being offered by the delivery vehicle's manipulator arm. The little delivery droid squeaked out an insult in the Twi'lek tongue of Ryl, before it disappeared back into the building. Not one to waste an opportunity, Fennec flung herself bodily through its little hatch before it closed.

She landed with a little yip of pain from a boob that got caught by her own elbow. Massaging her tit, she examined the dim, waist-high tunnel she found herself within. It ran this way and that, dipping down and shooting up at odd angles, an access space to let the little droid move between rooms on its duties without disturbing their human (or alien) inhabitants. Fennec had heard of the wealthy adding such conveniences, but never had the opportunity to crawl butt naked through one before.

With her hands bound together she had to crawl along in a slow, clumsy tripod fashion, reaching her arms out together, then catching up with her knees, her free breasts swinging below her bare torso like a pair of boobular pendulums. Lights were sparse and dim and none of its branches marked.

Before she knew it, Fennec was completely lost in the maze of passages. She crawled one way and then another, crawling to and fro and up and down, and all she managed was to wander forever, completely destroying what little sense of direction she still had.

Reaching the same intersection for the fourth time, Fennec hung her head. She was lost and tired and her knees ached from all this crawling. She was covered in sticky juice and droid oil and knots of neon paint still clung in her hair and despite her every efforts she was still naked and shivering like some helpless damsel, totally humiliated and a little horny. Worst of all, none of that fit with the stoic, no-nonsense mercenary that was Fennec Shand, and she wasn't really sure who she was right now and she felt a bit like crying and a lot like she wanted someone to come save her and tell her what to do.

You're being ridiculous, she chided herself, Whoever you are, whatever is going on, you're still lost and need to find a way out.

Fennec examined the five tubes coming off from the intersection and realized with growing dread, she had no idea which one she was headed towards or even had come from.

The lost female fought back a tear and collapsed back on her bare haunches in defeat and stifled a little whimper as the cold floor of the tube caressed her bare bottom. As she sat there, a damsel bemoaning her fate, there was the whir of the little droid rolling up fast behind her. She popped to her knees with a positive thought: Maybe, it could be reasoned with.

The metal menace sped by and gave her a hard goose between bare butt cheeks as it popped off another Rylothean curse word.

With a startled, "Eep!", Fenenc jumped away from the intrusive manipulator and soon found herself half sliding-half rolling, boobs and ponytail flopping, down a steeply inclined section to end in an upside down pile.

"I know a nice chop shop I'd like to introduce you to," Fennec moaned as she struggled back upright to discover that she'd come to rest against a small hatch. She didn't know if this went to a store room or dressing room or the VIP rooms of the club, but anything was better than rotting in these tunnels another minute.

Fennec took a deep breath, gathering what little resolve she had left and decided to try her luck in the club beyond, not that she had much choice. Gingerly, her cuffed hands felt around the lip of the door, happy to discover a small manual release button. With a quick push, the hatch slid open, and Fennec clumsily tumbled through.