Oh, yes! Just for a little while longer! Please!!! (bimbo trophy-wife version)

You wake up, sweaty and horny. You discover that the nightgown has ridden up during the night, and somehow, your fingers have found your new cunt and are rutting away.

You have a nice, little morning climax to start the day.

After licking your fingers off, you wonder "What could be next?" You've now been trapped inside the house for a full five days.

You do your toilet duties as usual, then the car-wash cleaning. As expected, you are taken to the makeup station where you are instructed to do the exact same makeup you did for your first meeting with Jack.

This time, you put on the pink eye shadow, the blush, the pink lipstick (with the puffy, glossy lip gloss - your lips are so fuckable!) then the teased long wavy blonde wig.

Then you go back to the dressing room where you put on the neon-pink thong, the pink waist cinch, the neon-pink stretch-lace push-up bra, the clingy, short ultra-high mini-skirt pink dress, the pink and black tweed jacket (which only buttons to below your tits, because your bosom is too large), the sky-high pink heels and the TROPHY WIFE diamond studded gold letter necklace.

You stand admiring your reflection for a while, thinking of what a hot, sexy, slutty tart you are. Men will want to take you home and have those big pink lips wrapped around their cocks for sure! The thought makes you wriggle with pleasure.

You look to leave the dressing room, but wait... a different door is open.

It's an exit door back to the original corridor.

"Okay, so fine," you say.

Apparently, for some reason the house wants you to go back to the original mannequin, probably for some new kind of bizarre anal training, you think to yourself.

But that first door is now locked. In fact, all of the doors in the corridor are locked!

You panic for a second, thinking that something has gone horrible wrong. You are trapped in the basement with no way out! All of the doors are locked, and some bug in the computer software means you will die here, starving to ****...

At least you're dressed so beautifully when they discover your dead, desiccated body, you think.

You try all of the doors, like five times, but everyone is locked. Even the dressing room door that you just left is locked now too!

But wait... isn't there one more door...?

On shaky legs, you walk up the stairs at the end of the hallway. There's the red exit button. You press it...

*click*

OH THANK THE LORD. (or Jack Hewitt, in this case)

A rush of relief flows through you as you ascend the stairs and step into the kitchen of the house.

You are free.

"The house is letting me go!!!" you exalt.

*DING DONG*

FUCK, THE DOORBELL??

But you're not dressed as Paul, you're Jennifer! Fuck, fuck, fuck.

What are you going to do??

TEST SCENARIO, BEGIN LEVEL 9: CATCH AND RELEASE

says the house.