[A WORLD WITHOUT GEMS - CHAPTER TWO: TO DEFY THE MISTRESS]

INT. WAREHOUSE - NIGHT - FLASHBACK

SECURITY OFFICE

The office is SUBMERGED IN SHADOW -- TWO OF THOSE SHADOWS ARE SILHOUETTES -- a CURVACEOUS SILHOUETTE DUO, belonging to a PAIR OF WOMEN who are ATTACHED MOUTH-TO-TIT.

THE SUCKER'S head bobs and twists -- her LIPS LOCKED ON TO HER TARGET.

Time after time, she leans in, SUBMERGING HER FACE IN A WAVY OCEAN OF BREAST, before COMING UP FOR **** AIR -- THEN, DIVING BACK IN TO THE DEPTHS OF FLESH not mere moments later.

BACKLIGHTING the action -- a WALL OF MONITORS, DISPLAYING LIVE CAMERA FOOTAGE FROM THROUGHOUT THE OFF-HOURS WAREHOUSE.

SCORED BY GIRL ON GIRL SUCKLING, we TRACK a MYSTERY MAN via the screens, as he calmly navigates from room to room. He's PRACTICALLY A SILHOUETTE himself, what with his ALL-FEATURE-OBSCURING MASK, his BILLOWING TRENCH COAT, and with the rest of his ATTIRE BEING UNMARKED -- ALL THE COLOUR OF NIGHT.

The office DOOR BURST OPEN! It's him! At his side, he holds a MANY-GENERATIONS-OLD SMARTPHONE.

The BREAST-FEEDERS squabble -- they're STARTLED FROM THE NECK UP, UNFLINCHING FROM THE NECK DOWN -- CONTINUING TO WORK EACH OTHER WITHOUT HESITATION. One gasps. One remains GAGGED BY NIPPLE.

The DOORWAY LIGHT streams past Mystery Man's TOWERING STATURE and BATHES the ladies -- now we can make out their FRIGHT. This appears to contrast with their GROOVING BODIES -- BODIES PACKAGED TEMPTINGLY INTO SECURTY GUARD UNIFORMS, SAY FOR ONE BOOB EACH -- which continue to cooperate with, what we can now tell is MAGICALLY MANDATED, BREAST-PLAY.

Mystery Man speaks with an ALMOST ROBOTICALLY FLAT AFFECT...

MYSTERY MAN
You've been made to milk each other. Will that be enough?

..while the BREAST-FEEDER VOCALLY QUIVERS.

BREAST-FEEDER
Pl-- please! Don't... don't hurt us!

MYSTERY MAN
Once again, I would never hurt you. I'm not even going to touch you. But, if you thought your professional relationship was already going to be awkward -- March sixth, twenty nineteen -- give me the footage, or I've got the gems to have you sixty-nine until sun-up.

He raises his phone, in threat!

Both women widen their eyes -- threat well and truly received!

OPENING CREDITS SEQUENCE -- ENDS WITH THE "A WORLD WITHOUT GEMS" TITLE CARD.

INT. MANSION - NIGHT - PRESENT DAY

WINE CELLAR

We SLOWLY RACK FOCUS -- mirroring CHARLIZE WINSLOW'S groggy awakening -- her groggy awakening to the ENDLESS WINE CELLAR in which she now finds herself seated...

..and handcuffed.

HANDCUFFED?!

She SPRINGS up from the ORNATE CHAIR beneath her, and STRAINS against the handcuffs...

..but the SHELVING, to which she's secured, WON'T BUDGE!

Nope -- won't budge at all.

It's then that she notices the INTRUDER from back in the flat, leant casually against a WINE BARREL.

The woman and her MOTORBIKE LEATHER ARE TOTALLY COOL -- cooler than Charlize's SEXY CLEANING LADY GETUP, at least.

INTRUDER
Just a sedative.

INT. DARREN SLATER'S FLAT - NIGHT - FLASHBACK

SITTING ROOM/KITCHEN

SHUCK! INTRUDER SHOOTS! A SMALL DART IS NOW PINNED INTO CHARLIZE'S SHOULDER!

INT. MANSION - NIGHT - PRESENT DAY

WINE CELLAR

Charlize recalls -- her memories are coming back into focus -- her MEDICALLY INDUCED LETHARGY accounts for this being a gradual process.

INTRUDER
I stuck your boyfriend with an amnestic round. He'll wake in his flat. Won't recall my intrusion.

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
That... that is not my boyfriend!

Distain drips from her words.

Intruder replies a silent judgement -- "look at what you're wearing."

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
I know what this looks like! He's not my boyfriend!

INTRUDER
I know. I'm fucking with you.

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
Well, I invite you to stop. I'm a detective for the--

INTRUDER
Not a french maid, then?

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
No, I'm not a--

She looks down. She sees her REVEALING APPAREL... and she sees her VOLUPTUOUS BODY STILL TUGGING AGAINST HER CUFFS -- STILL TUGGING AGAINST HER WILL.

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
And I'm not trying to get free! We're going to negotiate whatever it is you want to negotiate, okay? We both want that.

INTRUDER
Kind of looks like the french maid is trying to escape.

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
No. I'm--

Charlize concentrates on resisting her POSSESSED LIMBS, to no avail!

INTRUDER
Kind of looks like you're trying to piss me off, girl!

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
I'm not! I'm--

Still -- the handcuffs won't give, her body won't give!

INTRUDER
Kind of looks like--

WOMAN (OFF SCREEN)
Hey! That better not be you teasing the poor woman!

The UNSEEN WOMAN'S VOICE carries through the basement -- a moment of SILENCE follows.

Intruder releases her PERFORMATIVE AGGRESSION, and addresses Charlize.

INTRUDER
Whenever I get the chance, it just feels good to fuck with someone else for a change, you know? But, look, you're not in danger -- quite the opposite -- and you're only in those cuffs until you go back to being law enforcement in--

She checks her WATCH.

INTRUDER (CONTINUED)
--oh... in two... one.

THEN, IN AN INSTANT, CHARLIZE'S CLOTHING SUDDDENLY RETURNS TO HER PROFESSIONAL WORKPLACE GETUP! Her body STOPS BEING INSTRUCTED TO TRY AND WORM FREE.

Charlize takes a second to recover from the physical effort and process what just happened.

INTRUDER
Detective Charlize Winslow. Welcome back. Your mod was trying to return you to Darren's flat, so you could be at his beck and call. But, it's midnight. Your shift is over. "Maid For This" and "Say, 'Daddy,'" huh? Could have started off worse.

Cogs turns.

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
You mean... you know about the app as well? How is it able to... effect me... like this? How did--

INTRUDER
We'll tell you everything we know. Everything we know about how "Custom Girls" is effecting... "us."

SUPERIMPOSE TITLE CARD -- "CHAPTER TWO: TO DEFY THE MISTRESS"

MOMENTS LATER

Intruder has released the detective from her handcuffs, and the two walk and talk -- winding through A MAZE OF DUSTY WINE STORAGE.

INTRUDER
Your job makes you a high value asset. Enlisting you was my idea.

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
Whose idea?

INTRUDER
Call me "Dice."

"INTRUDER" WILL NOW BE REFERRED TO AS "DICE" IN THE SCRIPT.

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
Call you that, like it's a name?

DICE
Policy forbids the sharing of too many unnecessary personal details -- including names. Given the circumstances, that's a rule I can get behind. So, I'll just say I'm former US Air ****. Dice was my callsign. Now you're up to speed. But, if you want to know what to call "us"... we're "CGA." "Custom Girls Anonymous."

"MANSION" WILL NOW BE REFFERED TO AS "THE CUSTOM GIRLS MANSION" IN THE SCRIPT.

Charlize's quiet turmoil -- from the whiplash of somehow being controlled by something, and now possibly being recruited into something else -- changes to a feeling of apprehension, as Dice opens a HIDDEN DOOR -- ONE DISGUISED AS A SHELVING UNIT -- to reveal a DARK ROOM, to which the veteran beckons Charlize to enter.

She wonders what in the James Bond she's walking in to here -- the room houses MESSY NOTES scribbled on PILES AND PILES OF LAMINATED PAPER -- some showing SCREENGRABS OF THINGS LIKE SOCIAL MEDIA POSTS, some being PRINT-OUTS OF PICTURES CAPTURING PEOPLE OF INTEREST GOING ABOUT THEIR DAILY LIVES. There are NESTS OF WIRES, a ROW OF COMPUTERS running along a ROW OF DESKS, and all this is BARELY LIT BY THE GLOW OF A PROJECTOR.

With trepidation, Charlize creeps past Dice, and in to the room.

SECRET OFFICE

The projector paints an entire wall with the casting of LIVE FLY-ON-THE-WALL FOOTAGE -- an OPULENT, EXPENSIVE and EXPANSIVE DINING ROOM -- the CENTERPIECE BEING A LARGE ROUND TABLE which seats MANY CONVERSING WOMEN. They seem unbothered by the evident lack of domestic maintenance -- DUST, DYING PLANTS, DYING LIGHT FIXTURES.

THUD -- Charlize snaps around...

..it was Dice closing the door behind the two of them.

Now Charlize is wondering, "exactly how sketchy is this situation?"

DICE
I know this looks sketchy. You're probably wondering--

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
This is all for security, right? You say you agree with "policy" that says not to share too many details -- you, a vet who strikes me as someone who didn't respect rules without bloody good reason, and whose callsign supports that assessment. Dice -- probably given to someone known for gambling with immense risk, perhaps a wildcard known to butt heads with rules and regulations. Yet, even you respect this policy -- must be for a damn good reason. Security must be a serious priority -- this Custom Girls app does what it does -- it's powerful. Stands to reason the people behind it -- also powerful. You said the app's effecting, "us," so I'm not the only victim, and if you're calling yourself Custom Girls Anonymous -- that gives me Alcoholics Anonymous vibes. And so does this.

She waves to the projected livestream of the women in-talk.

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
The design of that room seems architecturally consistent with the design of this wine cellar -- the same evident lack of maintenance too. This is probably a recording of upstairs -- aren't too many mansions of this size within a three hour journey of Darren's flat. Give me a minute on Google Maps -- I'll know where we are. If that meeting upstairs is for victims of this app to talk about their experiences, and, given the power of said app, such a meeting has to be top secret, then this down here is next level classified. Not even those ladies up there know about this. Ground floor -- communal therapy. Wine cellar -- what exactly? You said my job makes me a, "valuable asset." Okay, so you and your team are a top secret branch of Custom Girls Anonymous, and you're investigating the app and the people behind it. For some reason, you want me to help.

WOMAN (OFF-SCREEN)
And what else can you tell us?

It's the same voice that called out before, coming from a behind a SMALL DOOR.

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
Well, actually, I'm confused. The app can control someone's body -- that alone is earth shattering technology -- but, my maid outfit just... blinked in and out of existence. This is... I don't even know, but I know this should be a global crisis. Despite the fact that word of this obviously hasn't got out, I'd have guessed that every country would have been waging war amongst the shadows -- to seize, combat and/or reverse engineer this tech. Yet... there's just you two? And, while it's gorgeous, your headquarters seems to be somewhat... improvised. No, something's wrong. This doesn't scream, "official government business."

She cites the messy setup.

WOMAN (OFF-SCREEN)
So, what can you tell?

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
I mean I don't know how... MI5... MI6... I don't know how you lot usually operate but...

She trails off. She looks to Dice.

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
You literally are just Custom Girls Anonymous, aren't you? You're not some specialised intelligence wing. You are literally just people like me -- same circumstance, same goal. This isn't some massive official effort. Despite the nature of this circumstance... it's just... this?

Dice addresses the woman beyond the door.

DICE
I told you.

WOMAN (OFF-SCREEN) That you did. We need quick. She's quick and right in every respect, but one. And before we give her the mission brief -- before we give her the choice -- she needs to appreciate that one mistake.

The small door opens. Outsteps...

..a PAIR OF DAMP BARE FEET. They, and further RAIN, SHED FROM UNCOVERED LEGS ONTO A, NOW, WET WOODEN FLOORING.

We TILT UPWARD to REVEAL THE PERFECT FEMALE FORM, DRENCHED IN GLISTENING WATER -- WET THIGHS, SOAKING ABS, DRIPPING BREASTS -- SOAPY WATER, BUT NOT ENOUGH SUDS TO AFFORD EVEN THE FAINTEST OF MODESTIES. Her PERFECT FACE WEARS A FOUNDATION OF CONDENSATION -- the ONLY THING SHE'S WEARING, ASIDE FROM THE WHITE BODY TOWEL THAT HOLDS HER WATER-LOGGED HAIR IN A POST-SHOWER TURBAN STYLE WRAP.

Charlize is stunned into awkward SILENCE. Well, it would be silent, if it weren't for the SOFT PITTER-PATTER of the DROPLETS STROKING DOWN THE NAKED WOMAN'S BODY, until they're good and ready to LEAP TO THE FLOORBOARDS.

WOMAN
We may be alike. We may all be capable women trapped in the same circumstance. We may have a common enemy -- the same goal -- to subvert this thing. But, we're-- hey! Look at me!

Charlize's was trying to courteously avert her gaze, but now her attention is stolen and directed back to the woman's SOAPY SKIN.

WOMAN
But, we're all still fighting our own battles.

The detective figures it out.

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
Are... you being made to wear this? Like I was being made to wear that ridiculous--

DICE
She's being made not to wear it, more like.

WOMAN
Yes, thank you for that, Dice.

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
And is she being made to be like that?

WOMAN
No. You'll come to see that it isn't a mod. That's just her attitude.

DICE
Humour's never made a tough spot worse. After long enough, you need it -- keep your knickers on.

Charlize -- not amused. Only dread.

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
How long is, "long enough?"

DICE
I was made a Custom Girl fourteen months.

Charlize -- disbelief.

WOMAN
For me -- since early twenty nineteen. But, just so you know, Dice adopted her hilarious coping mechanism pretty damn early.

DICE
Well, some of us are still getting fucked with by our Users and some of us don't get the kindest mods!

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
So, she's being **** to wear nothing but a towel turban and that's a, "****," mod?!

WOMAN
To be fair, yes, I got off lucky.

DICE
She's freshly wet and naked twenty-four-seven. That, and her actual name having been replaced with "Honey-Bunny" are the only active mods she has. She doesn't have to worry about getting any new ones and the two she does have are basically just as bad for us as they are for her.

WOMAN
I've been fresh out of a supposed shower, with my slicked up breasts constantly on show, for years! I'd say it's a little worse for "Honey-Bunny" ...Charlize, I'm sorry, but now, like everyone else, you're going to be compelled to call me "Honey-Bunny" and you're going to be **** to sound turned on when you say it. It's a name-substituting mod and it dictates that others have to refer to me as "Honey-Bunny" semi-regularly as well. But, here at CGA, the first rule's the same as fight club, and the second is that we don't blame, tease or judge other Custom Girls for what they're modded to do to themselves or others... Dice.

"WOMAN" WILL NOW BE REFERRED TO AS "HONEY-BUNNY" IN THE SCRIPT.

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
Makes sense, "Honey-Bunny."

Indeed, when Charlize's VOICE BECAME POSSESSED in that moment, she was startled to hear her COMPELLED PRONUNCIATION OF "HONEY-BUNNY" PRESENT AS EROTIC DESIRE, COMPLETE WITH A SEXY WINK. Charlize is embarrassed, Honey-Bunny is long past reacting, and Dice still finds faint amusement in its absurdity.

DICE
And like I always say to "Honey-Bunny," Charlize, I live under a revolving door or ever-changing rules, so I'll protect the secrecy of Custom Girls Anonymous and her mission, obviously, but I won't put my back out protecting your feelings, especially not while I'm made to put my back out... doing other things.

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
Oh, hell! Of course! What "other things?!" What... mods... do you have?! Are they going to do stuff to me?! What--

Charlize recoils -- stepping back into her own corner of the room.

DICE
I've got nothing that's going to effect you. But, my User is very experimental. Even if he's not keen, the fucker wants to try everything once. So, my mods vary wildly day to day... I'm going to kill them. I don't say that lightly. I was trained on the subject. When I get my chance, I'm going to end their life. Ever since the cum from every masturbation session on the base was made to teleport into my mouth, they've just been finding more and more grotesquely kinky ways to play with me.

The depth of the hell Charlize is now a part of begins to truly set in.

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
My... god...

An uncharacteristically anxious Charlize, looks to the naked Honey-Bunny.

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
You spoke of giving me a mission briefing and a choice, "Honey-Bunny." Give them -- not that I can see it mattering. But, tell me how on earth you plan to do anything about an app that, somehow, has the power to not just control people, but conjure outfits and teleport cum.

HONEY-BUNNY
"What on earth?" Well... that's the thing...

INT. HONEY-BUNNY'S FLAT - DAY - FLASHBACK

KITCHEN

A GIANT COCK SLIDES OUT FROM THE CUM DUMP THAT IS HONEY-BUNNY'S ACCEPTING MOUTH.

Dick in hand, HONEY-BUNNY'S USER -- catching breath -- stumbles out of the room and out of sight.

HONEY-BUNNY'S FROZEN -- HELD...

..until the app's PUPPETEERING INFLUENCE RELEASES and she collapses -- exhausted -- from her knees, to all fours -- NOT A DROP OF JIZZ SPILLED ON HER SMART-CASUAL ATTIRE.

The SEMEN SEA STIRRING AROUND IN HER MOUTH -- it means she has to breath deep through her CUTE BUTTON NOSE to recuperate, and her furious eyes glare down along it, as she raises her gaze to meet SOMEONE OFF-SCREEN -- she's having to COCK HER HEAD BACK, IN ORDER TO NOT LOSE ANY CUM, as she CAREFULLY GARGLES ANGERED WORDS.

HONEY-BUNNY
Wha... what... on earth... are you?!

The CRISP CLACKING OF HIGH HEELS STEPPING ON SOLID FLOORING. The NEARING OF A SHADOW CAST ALONG A WALL. It's the OUTLINE OF A WOMAN -- TALL, SLENDER, ETHEREAL -- well, ethereal except for the DARK CONNOTATION GIVEN BY THE HORNS PROTRUDING FROM HER VOLUMINOUS NEST OF HAIR -- IMPOSING, DARK, DEMONIC.

Like the GROUNDED BLOWJOB-ER, we feel the sense of COMMAND and FEAR that this woman -- this thing -- was created by the devil himself to inspire...

..however, she then starts talking -- HER VOICE IS VELVET. COMMANDING -- YES. FRIGHTFUL -- YES. But, also ALLURING, MAGNETIC. It BOUNCES AROUND THE ROOM LIKE EAR-TO-EAR ASMR TICKLING THE BRAIN. DESPITE THE DREAD, IT FUNNELS ATTENTION TOWARD HER, and OOZES SEXUAL SUGGESTION THAT DULLS THE SHARPNESS OF THE LISTENER'S ANXIETY, THOUGH IT REMAINS IN THE BACK OF THEIR MIND. Her ACCENT IS EXOTIC and, SOMEHOW NOT RUNNING CONTRARY TO THIS RELAXING-OMINOUS HYBRID OF A MENTAL STATE THAT HER VOCALS INFLICT, is a PLAYFUL QUALITY. Her SULTRY SPOKEN WORDS SOUND EXCITED -- of TABOO DESIRE, of INDULGENCE, of TEMPTATION TO LET IN ANIMALISTIC WANT and REVEL IN WRONGNESS.

VELVET VOICE
So glad your User let little old me watch! Great data, obviously, but also what a sight to behold! Your body -- real lickilicious, doll. Sorry, I should be calling you Honey-Bunny. Shouldn't I, Honey-Bunny? Real lickilicious, Honey-Bunny -- you should see yourself. Well, I suppose you get to see it every day in the mirror, don't you? Without the cum gurgling, but still... oh, and fuck me! You will have gotten to look at all that every day without those pesky clothes on! You know, I can't stay for too long during any one visit, but I'll definitely come back to see him get you naked.

And now WE FRAME the BARER OF THE VOICE -- the FEMME FATALE, the HELLISH SEDUCTRESS, the JESTER OF THE EROTIC AND THE GOTHIC -- JET BLACK HAIR, HORNS and HIGH HEELS, on an OTHERWISE UNCLOTHED HUMAN FORM, WITH A SHOCKING PALENESS TO HER SKIN, and a FIERY RED GLOW IN HER EYES. Both THE SKELETAL HIGHLIGHTS AND THE TONED MUSCULATURE OF HER METICULOUS FEMALE ANATOMY ARE ON SHOW. There's an INVITING SOFTNESS THAT CONTRASTS WITH THE HARSH NATURE OF HER ANTLERS AND PRONOUNCED FACIAL LANDSCAPE. She's KINETIC WHEN SHE TALKS, BRANDISHING HER IRRESISTIBLE PHYSIQUE -- HYPNOTISING WITH HER SWAYING BREASTS, and ARTICULATING WITH HER LONG RAZER NAILS -- NAILS THAT LOOK PERFECT FOR TANTALISING AND SCRATCHING ALL ITCHES.

HONEY-BUNNY
Fuck... y... you!

VELVET VOICE (OFF SCREEN)
Wouldn't that be sexy? Anywho, "what on earth" am I? Well, on earth, the closest concept you have for describing what I am is probably a demon, a demoness, a succubus or something. But, I still need a name you humans can use, don't I? Forgot to think of one earlier -- oops! "Mistress!" Just call me Mistress -- as in yours -- Honey-Bunny. Names are such fun when you let them be, aren't they, Honey-Bunny?!

"VELVET VOICE" WILL NOW BE REFERRED TO AS "MISTRESS" IN THE SCRIPT.

To Honey-Bunny's -- well, to more than just her dismay -- she's been **** to listen to more teasing, and withstand more humiliation, than she can tolerate, and she won't take it anymore!

She SHOOTS UP to her feet!

MISTRESS
Aw! You're even more lickilicious when you're angry, but mouth agape, neck back, tongue swimming in busted nut -- that's a good look on you.

She tries to retort with rage, but she can't retort with a full mouth -- A MOUTH THAT IS NOW CLAMPED BY AN INVISIBLE ****, in order to ensure no LIQUID WHITE spillage, as would be guaranteed by her, now, non-tilted-back posture and her attempt to scream insults.

She CLENCHES HER FIST! SWINGS!

POOF!

HER KNUCKLES CONNECT WITH NOTHING -- MISTRESS VANISHED IN THE BLINK OF AN EYE!

ADRENALINE HIGH -- Honey-Bunny franticly scans the room -- SPUNK SLOSHING WITHIN HER BULGING CHEEKS -- but the room is now empty.

Then...

..POOF!

"Where the hell is... oh." Honey-Bunny spots Mistress mischievously hang-sitting on a CEILING CHANDELIER -- she takes a PEN to a NOTEBOOK.

MISTRESS
So, it's "add User safeguards to the available in-app purchases" and it's "give safeguards to myself too, in case of fiery displays of passion." Your feistiness might drive the gem prices up a little, "Honey-Bunny," but it has pointed out an oversight. Thank you.

Mistress smirks.

Honey-Bunny scowls.

POOF -- the she-devil's gone again.

QUIET falls.

The MUFFLED SOUND OF HER USER SHOWERING MULTIPLE WALLS AWAY.

The thought occurs -- "why am I still stood here?"

She SCRAMBLES TOWARD THE EXIT -- POOF! Mistress now BLOCKS THE ESCAPE and Honey-Bunny SLIDES TO A STOP!

She notes that MISTRESS HAS TO CATCH HER BREATH AFTER MATERIALISING -- LIKE IT TOOK EFFORT.

MISTRESS
Wait... were you going to try and leave while I was gone? Well, aren't we glad I came back? Haven't been able to sort the running off problem yet, but I've managed to extend the app's effect radius to twenty five metres. I know. Don't tell me. It's blown your tits off hearing that exciting news!

Honey-Bunny LAUNCHES AN ****!

HER FIST AS STOPPED a hair from the hell-spawn's LUSCIOUS LIPS.

MISTRESS
Oh, I cracked that as well. I'm going to strongly encourage your User to buy himself "Shield." You two will let me know if spanking still works, won't you? Or I may have to adjust the sensitivity. Balls! It might stop you being modded to engage in chokeplay -- you know, this app may be trickier to refine than I thought. We'll keep at it, Honey-Bunny. We'll keep at it. Got to find the right balance between letting kinky slapping through, but not swings from this cornered animal thing you've currently got going on.

Honey-Bunny perseveres -- throwing again and again and again -- all are CUSHIONED BY THE DEVILESS' IMPERCEPTIBLE BARRIER -- a barrier not made of anything physical, but from something magical that has the aggressor's body cancel its ****!

The would-be attacker's whimper is TRANSLATED INTO A MUFFLED FROTHING FROM THE CLIMAX SWIRLING IN HER GOB.

She backs off.

Then, Mistress stares at her -- she's leaning a little heavier into the fire within her stare, rather than the sexually playful expressions she was so often flashing.

She takes small, occasional steps toward the Custom Girl -- in this moment, she's a little more the frightful than the ethereal.

MISTRESS
I'm hungry. I really am. And, I tell you what, I adore power.

Gradually, she's closing in -- Honey-Bunny choosing "freeze," seeing as though "fight" and "flight" both failed.

MISTRESS
And do you know what satiates? What empowers? You. You're like a farm of sexual vigor. The more visceral, the more intense the spice.

And now she's here -- never mind Honey-Bunny's personal bubble, MISTRESS' BARE BREASTS SQUISH AGAINST THE CORNERED WOMAN'S.

The HORNED SEX FREAK sniffs and licks the air -- feeding from the brew of energies being emitted by her prey.

MISTRESS
You might think fighting does something but, your delectable arousal gets triggered regardless. And mixed with sexual frustration, seasoned with hate, confliction, humiliation -- that's the strongest current. I want you to struggle. It distills the best taste and compounds the strength of the nectar that I'm milking from the teat you call your soul. And, speaking of taste, you've been customised to swallow that cum. You either gulp now or gulp later. There's no getting around it. So, go on. The suspense is killing me.

Honey-Bunny is disgusted by the taste of the DICK YOGURT -- so, later it is.

MISTRESS
Well, I see how it is then -- but, the suspense is also what I live for and... do you want to hear a fun fact? I'm not one of you. My app doesn't effect me in the same way. When it says that everybody has to call you Honey-Bunny and you have to call yourself Honey-Bunny and any media's augmented to call you Honey-Bunny and all any human mind can remember is you being called Honey-Bunny -- I don't have to play ball. I can remember your name -- I'm the only thing in the multiverse that remembers. I'm free to say it. I'm the only way you could ever hear your true name ever again. I could say it--

Mistress starts to back away -- her TITS CEASE PRESSING UP AGAINST THE CUSTOM GIRL'S AND RIPPLE BACK TO THEIR FREE-HANGING POSTURE.

Mistress builds up to the finishing her sentence with eye contact that cuts to the soul.

MISTRESS
--I really could say your name... I really could... oooh! Is that candy?! I haven't had a chance to tour and sample?! Guessing you don't mind?

Mistress's INSTANT SWITCH BACK TO HER GIDDY JOKESTER ROUTINE has the intended effect. She darts over to a TRAY OF HARD SWEETS, UNWINDS ONE FROM ITS PLASTIC PRISON, and looks back to Honey-Bunny...

..who considers the recent name taunting -- this power play -- that sinking hopeless feeling deep within her -- she GULPS.

INT. THE CUSTOM GIRLS MANSION - NIGHT - PRESENT DAY

SECRET OFFICE

HONEY-BUNNY'S BUTTOCKS -- PLUMP LIKE PILLOWS -- PAT AGAINST A CHAIR AS SHE SITS TO OPERATE HER COMPUTER.

Both Dice and Charlize send their attention to the projection on the far wall -- IT MIRRORS HONEY-BUNNY'S COMPUTER SCREEN, DISPLAYING A SLIDESHOW OF OFFICIAL ART AND SCREENSHOTS FROM THE CUSTOM GIRLS APP UI.

HONEY-BUNNY
Simply put, our mission is to neutralise her Custom Girls app, freeing everyone from its influence, and, in some fashion, incapacitate Mistress, ensuring she can't try again.

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
Well, that is, indeed, simply put. And sorry... a succubus?

HONEY-BUNNY
Well... yes.

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
What is a succubus exactly? A demon? You're saying this app's the work of a demon?

DICE
A succubus is generally imagined as some demonic, seductress, folklore type thing, yes -- all bullshit, of course. But, she seems to be close to a real world equivalent.

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
Because I was thinking nanobots -- maybe we're in a simulation -- some sort of sci-fi technobabble explanation. I could've bought that.

DICE
For all intents and purposes, it's fucking magic, Charlize. "Honey-Bunny's" spoken to it. I've seen it. Others have reported it.

Charlize's world is on its head. Her jaw hangs. Her mind scrambles for some alternate explanation...

..but it comes up short.

And then, while she's in deep-processing, her brain digs something else up.

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
You're condemning me.

DICE
What?

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
You! You're condemning me! Back in the flat, I was about to reach that prick's phone! Destroy it! Free myself! You swiped it and stopped me!

DICE
You've actually got me to thank!

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
I'm supposed to thank you for doing that?!

DICE
No, you're supposed to thank me for stopping what could've happened if I didn't!

HONEY-BUNNY
If it's any consolation, Charlize--

INT. HONEY-BUNNY'S FLAT - DAY - FLASHBACK

KITCHEN

MISTRESS IS NOWHERE TO BE SEEN -- it's just Honey-Bunny and Honey-Bunny's User -- he's lovingly stroking the recoiling woman's hair.

HONEY-BUNNY (VOICE OVER, PRESENT DAY)
--within the scope of the app's ability, are many forms of protection. I found out the hard way--

Honey-Bunny's had enough.

She DODGES out of his reach!

She DIVES for the KITCHEN COUNTER!

Her User's PHONE -- NOW WITHIN HER GRIP!

HONEY-BUNNY (VOICE OVER, PRESENT DAY)
--that one such protection is a punishment system for any Custom Girl attempting to use, damage or steal a User's phone.

Honey-Bunny's User is about to spring in to action, but...

..Honey-Bunny looks to the phone -- BLANKNESS!

She STOPS, AS IF PAUSED, and HER EYES TURN UNINTEUPTED WHITE!

ROBOTICALLY, SHE EXTENDS HER ARM, PRESENTING THE MOBILE TO HER CALMING, BUT SUPRISED, USER.

The screen reads -- "UNAUTHORISED USER DETECTED! PLEASE CHOOSE A PUNISHMENT:"

INT. THE CUSTOM GIRLS MANSION - NIGHT - PRESENT DAY

SECRET OFFICE

Honey-Bunny presses a button and now SIDE BY SIDE SCREENSHOT COMPARISONS ARE PROJECTED ONTO THE WALL. VARIOUS DIFFERENT AESTHETICS AND LAYOUTS FROM DIFFERENT VERSIONS OF THE CUSTOM GIRLS APP -- SOME VERSIONS PROMISE PROTECTION AGAINST PHONE THEFT OR DESTRUCTION AS A FREE QUALITY OF LIFE FEATURE, SOME LIST PROTECTIONS AS OPTIONAL IN-APP PURCHASES, OBTAINABLE IN EXCHANGE FOR THE APP'S GEM CURRENCY.

HONEY-BUNNY
There's many different versions of the app. It's more than just regular bug fix patches. There's many concurrent variations, for a reason that's made explicit in the app's informational pages.

Honey-Bunny navigates to a SCREENSHOT FROM ONE OF THESE PAGES, WITH A SECTION THAT'S BEEN HIGHLIGHTED -- "...TESTING PHASE, MEANING YOUR EXPERIENCE MAY DIFFER FROM THAT OF OTHER USERS. WE HAVE CHOSEN YOU TO GIVE FEEDBACK ON A VARIATION OF THE APP'S DESIGN AND FUNCTIONALITY, WHICH, WHEN CROSS-REFERENCED WITH FEEDBACK FROM THE REST OF OUR USERBASE, CONCERNING OTHER VERSIONS OF THE APP, WILL ALLOW US TO DELIVER THE OFFICIAL 1.0 RELEASE IN ITS BEST POSSIBLE FORM..."

HONEY-BUNNY
Mistress is field testing. Different user interfaces, different mods, pricing structures and features -- some come with protections packaged in. Less lucky user get a version where you have to pay for peace of mind. My User got lucky, and that was the last day "Honey-Bunny" wore clothes.

INT. HONEY-BUNNY'S FLAT - DAY - FLASHBACK

KITCHEN

Honey-Bunny remains blank and frozen. Honey-Bunny's User -- still baffled.

Mistress MATERIALISES FROM THIN AIR.

MISTRESS
Sorry about the wait. You called.

She then lays eyes on Honey-Bunny -- the SATANIC KNOCKOUT BECOMES AROUSED.

MISTRESS
Oh, I see. Try to grab your phone, did she?

HONEY-BUNNY'S USER
Yeah. I thought we were getting somewhere.

MISTRESS
There are now mind altering mods, silly. And I'm working on more as well.

HONEY-BUNNY'S USER
No, I... she's an amazing woman. I used to be a loser, I really did, but I got my shit together -- overhauled everything. Now I get offers from loads of women, but now I'm worthy of her and that's all that matters. I want to provide for her, I want to cherish her -- all of the cliches -- and I need her to see it.

MISTRESS
Her mouth's that good, eh?

HONEY-BUNNY'S USER
I don't think you would understand what I'm talking about. But, sure -- I mean, I physically I just couldn't wait for her to come around before I had her deepthroat me. I would have waited, but... the app was just... there to be used. But, I must still be able to prove myself somehow. If she took me into her mouth lovingly... I lack the vocabulary to describe such a thing.

MISTRESS
This is great. I need this feedback. So, what customisations would you like to be able to make to her mind that I don't currently offer?

HONEY-BUNNY'S USER
No. I'm going to give you feedback, but this isn't it. I want her to see we're perfect for each other without the aid of magic. And how perfect she is -- period. That's something I'm going to have to work on with her. By definition, your app can't solve that problem.

MISTRESS
I really don't understand you humans sometimes. But, fine, you can use the app however you want, I guess.

HONEY-BUNNY'S USER
Speaking of -- so what's this then?

He looks to the screen -- the phone's still being held by the HONEY-BUNNY STATUE.

"

UNAUTHORISED USER DETECTED! PLEASE CHOOSE A PUNISHMENT:

• BLOWJOB 'N' BREAKFAST: The Subject will be made to enact a wakeup ritual for a random man in their life each morning, during which breakfast and sexual service must be provided... [CHOOSE]
• SHOWER TIME WARDROBE: The Subject's attire will always be one of the fresh-out-of-the-shower looks from the available list, complete with an un-dryable coating of shower water... [CHOOSE]
• HOT POTATOES: The Subject's bare breasts must be held at all times, by either her or the nearest person... [CHOOSE]

"

MISTRESS
Well, the algorithm determined she was trying to destroy your phone or use the app -- good to see it works. Your version of the app has protection against that built right in now, lucky man. So, she now gets one of those three available punishments and you get to choose which.

HONEY-BUNNY'S USER
They're permanent?

MISTRESS
They're permanent.

HONEY-BUNNY'S USER
Feedback -- don't make them permanent.

With the SHARP SNAP of Mistress' fingers, she CONJURES HER NOTEPAD AND PEN INTO BEING and begins taking notes.

MISTRESS
A woman's got to be punished from time to time, but I'll consider your feedback. Perhaps I'll implement a system where you can call customer support again, and I'll judge whether the time she's spent with the punishment fits her crime. How's that sound? But, until such a time, it's permanent.

Honey-Bunny's User isn't thrilled by this arrangement, nor with his decision, but given he's got to make one, and given how whorish the alternatives are...

..he takes back the phone and presses "SHOWER TIME WARDROBE."

IN A FLASH, HONEY-BUNNY'S CLOTHES DISAPPEAR, HER BREASTS BOUNCE TO FREEDOM, A TOWEL APPEARS WRAPPED AROUND HER, NOW, DRENCHED HAIR and A NEW BLANKET OF SHOWER WATER MAKES HER SKIN GLEAM.

As Mistress smiles, and the UNCOVERED BODY OF HIS FOXY LOVE helps Honey-Bunny's User with some of his confliction, the Custom Girls JERKS BACK TO LIFE -- STUMBLING BACK, HER NAKED ASSETS RIPPLING.

Close to joining her in a stumble is the Mistress -- she experiences temporary weakness in the knees -- it's more than just pleasure, it's effort, and despite currently reeling in her own way, Honey-Bunny notes the second significant instance of the demon's sudden fatigue.

Honey-Bunny looks down...

..then looks back to THE PAIR DICTATING HER NUDITY -- she's... giving up. There's a defeated nihilism to her affect.

HONEY-BUNNY
Just do it. If this app can change my mind -- brainwash me into loving you -- just do it.

HONEY-BUNNY'S USER
Don't worry, we can get there on our own, Honey-Bunny. I refuse to hack your mind into being a bimbo for me. We're going to forge something real.

Honey-Bunny hates herself for doing so, but she's conceded the fight -- this is her life now -- taking, sucking and grinding on delusional dick.

She sees the THIRSTY DEMON looking her WET FLESH WAVES up and down.

MISTRESS
You know, if your lover ever does come to me, asking that your punishment to be lifted, that's going to be a real challenge. Allowing those nipples to be locked away, even for a second -- that's a crime as well.

HONEY-BUNNY'S USER Okay, that's enough.

MISTRESS
I know. I know. I'm getting the hint that you're protective over others appreciating your snack's delicious flesh, but I just say things how I see them.

HONEY-BUNNY'S USER
Don't worry, Honey-Bunny. We'll get you in some cute dresses again. But, we'll just have to make do in the mean time -- all things considered, it's a pretty revolutionary service we're being provided and we ought to be thankful. I think it's going to help us fortify this unspoken thing between us. I saw how you glanced at me in the office. I heard the rumors. Your thoughts about me. The fact that you liked me checking in on your department to order you around. Why don't you find something on the Netflix, I'll fish out some wine, and we can chill.

Disappearing into the next room -- phone in hand -- Honey-Bunny's User is off to search for a bottle.

SITTING ROOM

Honey-Bunny doesn't even bother to scowl at the SATANIC SEX-EATER that follows and feasts on her resignation to her fate -- that engorges itself on the sight of Honey-Bunny picking up her TV REMOTE.

But, before she dives into Netflix, Honey-Bunny notes subtle body language ques -- again, it's that fast-onset lethargy within Mistress.

MISTRESS
Well, I'd love to chill with you fuck buddies -- drink in your soapy udders -- but I can't stay, I'm afraid. Have fun, Honey-Bunny.

Then, IN A BLINK, SHE'S GONE.

INT. THE CUSTOM GIRLS MANSION - NIGHT - PRESENT DAY

SECRET OFFICE

Now a PENCIL ILLUSTRATION OF MISTRESS IS PROJECTED ON THE WALL.

HONEY-BUNNY
I was stiff as a board and still aware. When control returned to my limbs, they were destined to be slick and in the breeze for the rest of time, or until Mistress takes mercy... so, what do we know? She can remove punishments. Other than that, she doesn't seem to be able to effect things personally -- Users can, she can't -- she never directly controls or mods us herself. I saw her exasperated after teleportation and modding -- her app, her magic, even just sustaining her presence in our world seems to take a toll. She can't stay in our reality for too long, she can't see what's happening here from whatever demonic dimension she has to spend most her time in, she can't be everywhere at once, and no one has ever reported her materialising too far from a User. I'm fairly certain those are her limitations. If they weren't at least close to accurate, she probably would have found Custom Girls Anonymous a long time ago. Her conversation with my User, that quote from the app's informational page -- they suggest Users are hand picked to be field testers. The avenue we're exploring is investigating and surveilling Users -- trying to find a connection that explains why they were picked specifically. We do that, we might learn more about Mistress and, the more we learn about her, the more likely we are to find some way of stopping her. "Honey-Bunny" thinks you can help us discover a link between the Users, detective.

Both Dice and Honey-Bunny wait on Charlize to respond...

..and, if they'd have been patiently holding their breaths, they might have choked.

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
You projected screenshots from the app. You knew the names and the details of my mods -- you've found a way around the punishment safeguards. You're able to navigate the app.

HONEY-BUNNY
Not exactly.

INT. DARREN SLATER'S FLAT - NIGHT - FLASHBACK

SITTING ROOM/KITCHEN

Charlize notices Darren rest his phone down on the countertop... near the EMPTY SINK -- a lightbulb moment for her.

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
Get me a plug for the sink. Sounds like I'm going to have to soak them.

DARREN SLATER
What do you mean soak them?

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
Jesus. Look, I soak them, or we wait for your, probably hypothetically, dishwasher to do it.

BUT, NOW WE DEVIATE FROM WHAT WE SAW IN CHAPTER ONE -- unbeknownst to Darren, as he scans the kitchen for the plug to the sink, or to Charlize, as she unearths two grubby plates the app is puppeteering her to retrieve, Dice stays low, like a ninja nearby, avoiding detection.

DICE (VOICE OVER, PRESENT DAY)
You've noticed the state of this office. "Honey-Bunny" didn't just pick up the whole paranoid investigator thing out of necessity -- a lifelong, chronically online, nutjob nerd. But, she knows a thing or two about tech. So, right now, that's alright.

THE EX MILITARY SHADOW uses the kitchen counter for cover, and, with the lowlife and his sexy maid's backs being turned, she seizes the opportunity to INSERT A SMALL DEVICE INTO DARREN'S UNATTENDED MOBILE.

Three...

..two...

..one.

Darren's found what he was looking for and he turns toward the sink!

Nothing -- he continues on, plugging the drain, starting the TAP.

DICE (VOICE OVER, PRESENT DAY)
She's made doohickies. Plug one into a User's phone -- spyware in seconds. If you're careful -- you wear gloves, you don't move the phone, you don't make eye contact with the screen -- it doesn't trip the app's safeguards.

Dice is back in the darkness, returning the small device to her pocket.

Then, she gets an update through HER MICRO EARPIECE.

HONEY-BUNNY (VOICE OVER)
Well done. Connection established.

A cocky smirk.

INT. THE CUSTOM GIRLS MANSION - NIGHT - PRESENT DAY

SECRET OFFICE

Honey-Bunny navigate her computer once again -- she PROJECTS A WALL OF CODE ONTO THE WALL. EACH LINE DESCRIBES A USER ADDING A MOD TO A CUSTOM GIRL. COMPLETE WITH VARIOUS DATA -- TIME, PLACE, GEMS SPENT, MOD SPECIFICS, ETC.

She scrolls past "DAVE HAINES" having modded "SOFIA LIA" with "BEND OVER."

Past "BEN HARLOW" having modded "DAISY RIDLEY" with "FLASH TITS."

Eventually reaching "DARREN SLATER" having modded "CHARLIZE WINSLOW" with "MAID FOR THIS."

HONEY-BUNNY
My spyware neatly pulls and compiles the User's app activity. I can also monitor their phone screens -- hence the screenshots. Given the circumstances, I don't feel bad about it. I can't control the phone or use the app, but we can monitor patterns in a User's app activity -- decide when it's safest to meet here -- and we can take steps to trigger as few mods as possible while we're meeting.

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
So, which version of the app does my user have? You said some require them to purchase those safeguards -- which I'm fairly certain Darren didn't -- but some have free protections built in. Which version does he have?

Honey-Bunny knows where this is going -- she's hesitant to answer.

But, with Dice, it's a different story.

DICE
Darren doesn't have safeguards at the moment, no.

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
So, you stopped me destroying his phone -- which I would have been able to do -- and then demanded that I be thankful because of "what may have happened," when "what may have happened" was me being freed from all of this! Freed from scrubbing his floors in a sexy servant cosplay! Well, I'm destroying that thing before he makes me do anything else and I'm not joining this futile mission of yours!

He angers becomes diluted with guilt.

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
I want to help you. I really do. But, putting my life on the line to catch criminals is one thing -- this is literal dark magic. I like to think I persevere in the face of unfavourable odds, but there's no way to beat this app. All you can do is try to reason with the men controlling you. I'm good at that. I can teach you that. But, it will be over the phone. I'm not risking a lesson turning into some orgy.

HONEY-BUNNY
We risk meeting in person because many mods bring with them isolation -- you don't want to greet your sister with a french kiss so you keep your distance, you don't want to go out in public nude so you stay away, or the mod simply makes others oblivious or forgetful. Not here. Here at CGA -- we understand and we welcome. And, I'm sorry, but us girls are in this together now.

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
I guess you didn't hear me.

DICE
We heard you. But, it doesn't matter if you school us in negotiation -- give them this app, they're not just going to let us go -- all men are perverts.

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
A warped world view if I ever heard one.

DICE
Delusional.

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
Misogynist.

DICE
Sexy maid.

Charlize thinks.

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
You made clear "Honey-Bunny's" User isn't in her life anymore.

HONEY-BUNNY
It's true. He let me go.

Checkmate...

..Dice reluctantly retreats from the argument.

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
You convinced him? You made him see the evil of it?

Honey-Bunny thinks back.

INT. HONEY-BUNNY'S FLAT - DAY - FLASHBACK

ENTRANCE HALLWAY

Honey-Bunny's User SNOGS his DISPLEASED BETTER HALF -- throughout, he kept his BUISNESS SUIT away from her NAKED WETNESS.

HONEY-BUNNY'S USER
You know I want nothing more than to let you nicen our nest while I'm at work, but until Mistress figures how to stop you running off, you're going to have to join me in the office, Honey-Bunny.

HONEY-BUNNY
But, "Honey-Bunny" doesn't--

HONEY-BUNNY'S USER
Hey! I know it's not ideal. But, this is for the best. You running off is not safe, not while you're--

He looks down at her BIRTHDAY SUIT.

HONEY-BUNNY'S USER (CONTINUED)
--like this. Staying on my arm is for the best.

HONEY-BUNNY
Oh, wakeup! I'm naked! You say you love me and you'd make me walk throughout your office naked?!

HONEY-BUNNY'S USER
Precisely, it's "my" office! I'm the boss -- the boss has the keys! We're getting there early to avoid as many eyes as possible! Look... Honey-Bunny, I'm doing everything that can be done to deal with the situation, while still providing for us. I'll draw the blinds to my office -- only my PA will have a chance to glimpse you if we get there before everyone else. You shouldn't have gone for the phone, Honey-Bunny. There was no need for that. Now, we have to get going.

He starts to turn...

..but stops when she grabs his arm -- yanking his limb from her grabs.

HONEY-BUNNY'S USER
What did I say?! Don't touch the suit! You'll get it wet! Please... stop making me have to shout. Now, we have to get going, or the office will be full when we get there.

HONEY-BUNNY
One last chance -- this isn't right. You know this isn't right. What kind of love is this?

This strikes the business man deeply.

He considers his response.

HONEY-BUNNY'S USER
Yeah, this love is one sided. I'm doing all of this to give us a comfortable life. But, it seems futile. It looks like you'll never grow to reciprocate what I'm giving.

It seems the Custom Girl is breaking through.

HONEY-BUNNY'S USER
However, a true man doesn't give up when it seems futile. When he's unappreciated. Even when he's despised.

Nevermind, it seems the girl's destined to be customised forever.

HONEY-BUNNY'S USER
You're... the most amazing woman I've ever known. I know we can build something. You'll know it too. Now, we really, really have to go -- I don't want every guy in the office seeing your honeypot either.

HONEY-BUNNY
...I bought you a present. A few actually.

He wasn't expecting that.

HONEY-BUNNY'S USER
That's great, Honey-Bunny. Thank you, but it's nearly half past.

HONEY-BUNNY
I got a few new work bags for you to choose from. Just transfer your work stuff into the one you like before we go. They're with your current one in the bedroom.

He smiles at the gesture.

BEDROOM

Honey-Bunny's User strides into the room, and is greeted by AN ARRAY OF IDENTICAL WORK BAGS.

HONEY-BUNNY'S USER
Oh, Honey-Bunny. I said I wanted a new one. You're going to have to return all of these. They're all the same. How did you even manage that?

He turns.

SHE'S GONE -- THE FRONT DOOR WIDE OPEN!

The CEO goes WIDE EYED!

And when he swivels back to the bag selection -- it clicks for him why they're clones.

He JUMPS INTO ACTION -- FRANTICALLY TURNING ONE SACHEL INSIDE OUT!

He searches through the USELESS JUNK THAT FELL FROM IT! What's he's looking for isn't in the pile!

He ATTACKS the next one!

INT. FLAT BUILDING - CONTINUOUS

RESIDENTIAL HALLWAY

Honey-Bunny's **** SPRINT ACTS AS AN EARTHQUAKE FOR HER ASS AND TITS!

The WOMAN FROM DOOR SIXTY NINE emerges from her flat -- only to be SHOCKED BY THE BLUR OF A STREAKER!

Honey-Bunny stops at the ends of the hall -- no easy feat -- the CONSTANT SOAPY SHOWER WATER makes her prone to slipping!

She SLAMS THE CALL BUTTON TO THE COMMUNAL ELEVATOR!

Anxious waiting.

INT. HONEY-BUNNY'S FLAT - CONTINUOUS

BEDROOM

The place is being turned upside down!

Each decoy bag is stuffed with random crap and Honey-Bunny's User has spilled open half of them by now!

INT. FLAT BUILDING - CONTINUOUS

RESIDENTIAL HALLWAY

Her mind screams, "come on!"

The elevator replies with SILENCE.

"Wait... silence?" She inspects it...

..seeing NONE OF ITS LIGHT FIXTURES ACTIVE -- the damn thing's not working!

She PUNCHES THE WALL -- ENRAGED -- and SPRINTS OFF!

INT. HONEY-BUNNY'S FLAT - CONTINUOUS

BEDROOM

Another bags SPILLS ITS GUTS!

The User ROUTES AROUND THE ENTRAILS...

..bingo!

He brings his rediscovered phone to eyelevel!

INT. FLAT BUILDING - CONTINUOUS

STAIRWELL

The FLEEING EYE-CANDY is ROCKETTING down the CUBOIDAL SPIRAL of the COMMUNAL STEPS!

INT. HONEY-BUNNY'S FLAT - CONTINUOUS

BEDROOM

He navigates to CUSTOM GIRLS!

SWIPING FURIOUSLY THROUGH THE APP, he finds a mod in his library that will have her return to him on her knees.

"

BLOWJOB

[HOTKEY]

• TRIGGER CONDITIONS: Hotkey press [EDIT]
• MOD DESCRIPTION: The Subject will be made to give the User a blowjob... [EXPAND DESCRIPTION]
• MOD LEVEL: 2 [EDIT]
• SUBJECT AWARENESS: On [EDIT]
• OTHER AWARENESS: On [EDIT]
• SUCKING STYLE: Sensual [EDIT]
• SUCKING SPEED: Slow [EDIT]
• BALLSACK TREATMENT: Kissing [EDIT]
• CUM BEHAVIOUR: Has to hold the Subject's cum in her mouth until she chooses to swallow [EDIT]
• [EXPAND EDITS LIST]

"

Honey-Bunny's User THUNDERS his finger toward the hotkey!

TAP!

He breathes a sigh of relief...

..until he retracts his finger from the screen -- a screen that now reads "WARNING: SUBJECT OUTSIDE OF THE 25M LIMIT!"

INT. FLAT BUILDING - CONTINUOUS

STAIRWELL

The SHOWERED NUDIST BARGES past a RESIDENT who is recording her JIGGLING ASSETS for later use!

She's now only a few floors from ground level!

RESIDENTIAL HALLWAY

Honey-Bunny's User BURST into the hall!

She could have gone left...

..she could have gone right...

..but he'll only be joined in his pursuit by a TRAIL OF WET FOOTPRINTS if he turns right, continues past the elevator and heads into the stairwell!

Honey-Bunny's User LAUNCHES in that direction -- his eyes flicking between twelve o'clock and the app screen -- he's still out of range!

STAIRWELL

She HURRIES, before...

..COLLAPSING, thanks to a PUDDLE OF HER BODY'S WATER!

The resident recording wank bank footage of the neighbour from his wet dreams doesn't offer help -- just as well, because she isn't badly injured -- merely winded, fatigued, and worried by the crucial escape time she's losing.

She HOISTS herself back to standing...

..and, in so doing, her upward gaze has her make eye contact with her User, who's leaning over the RAILING of the top floor!

On his mobile's display -- "NOTICE: SUBJECT WITHIN THE 25M LIMIT."

HONEY-BUNNY'S USER
See -- already hurt yourself, you poor thing. Thank God you've got me.

She has to do it! She has ****!

As the APP OWNER brings his finger down toward his screen...

..the DEFECTING MISSUS VAULTS the first floor stairwell railing!

He HITS the hotkey! She HITS the ground floor!

A tense moment passes...

..and her aching body -- reeling from the multi-metre plummet -- doesn't get possessed to return to him and hoover his meat!

He looks down -- shaken, "fuck no!"

She looks up -- smug, "fuck you!"

Honey-Bunny strains onto all fours and, staying low, SCURRIES AWAY out of sight!

Honey-Bunny's User begins an urgent decent in vain!

EXT. FLAT BUILDING - MOMENTS LATER

CAR PARK

The suit finally escapes the confines of the building!

He stops.

Left.

Right.

Ahead.

Behind.

She's long gone.

Something builds, and builds, and builds...

..until it -- his loss, his wrath, his worry -- ECHOES OUT IN A PRIMAL BELLOW!

INT. THE CUSTOM GIRLS MANSION - NIGHT - PRESENT DAY

SECRET OFFICE

Honey-Bunny snaps out of her troubled remembrance and chooses her next words very deliberately.

HONEY-BUNNY
Yes, like you said, I talked to him. He was unable to remove the punishments -- I'm still naked, I'm still "Honey-Bunny" -- but I convinced him to let me go. Peel back the layers -- he was very reasonable.

The words don't ring true for us, but the veteran and the detective both buy it.

HONEY-BUNNY
So, you could stay away from us. You could theoretically get through to Darren, get let go or destroy his phone before he safeguards it -- you'd be a free woman again.

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
I'm sorry. But, that's what I'm going to do.

It looks like things are decided...

..until Honey-Bunny pushes back, with a heavy heart.

HONEY-BUNNY
Except... except you won't. I'm the one who's sorry, because... Charlize... you won't do that.

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
Really? That's news to me.

HONEY-BUNNY
We had to stop you freeing yourself from the app -- there's nothing Mistress hates more. She'd love nothing less than to see me again -- naked and humiliated. My User letting me go drew a lot of attention -- she hated that that happened -- and, if we were to recruit you, I didn't want to risk any others in CGA attracting that same attention. You escaping by **** would dethroned me as the Custom Girl who's humiliation would make her the wettest. I don't want her extra motivated to find any of us. Precaution and luck has got CGA this far -- if we're discovered, it won't take her much effort to stop us. And we need someone with your investigative talent.

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
You'll find someone else -- equally skilled and actually willing.

HONEY-BUNNY
You will want to do this, Charlize. When Dice stopped you freeing yourself, when she asked you to be thankful -- "what may have happened" was not you receiving a punishment mod from the app for trying to destroy your User's phone. Like I said -- it was unprotected. You would have succeeded. "What may have happened" was you calling too much attention to yourself for me to let you on our team. It was you no longer being a Custom Girl and, after a while, being made to forget about the app entirely like the rest of the world does. It was us, therefore, being unable to receive your help to stop what's coming.

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
"What's coming?"

HONEY-BUNNY
We need an investigator's mind -- an unmatched thinker -- for years we've practically got no closer to stopping Mistress' end goal.

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
"Honey-Bunny," what are you talking about!

HONEY-BUNNY
The reason you're going to stay with your User and keep a low profile. The reason we so desperately need your help. The reason you're going to choose to help us take down a demon. The last thing that demon said to me.

She's definitely got the detective's attention.

INT. HONEY-BUNNY'S FLAT - DAY - FLASHBACK

SITTING ROOM

EVIDENTLY, THIS IS SOME TIME BEFORE HER DARING ESCAPE -- A NAKED Honey-Bunny is ON HER KNEES -- her face is cringing, but her POSSESSED LIPS ARE KISSING UP AND DOWN HER USER'S BALLSACK.

Oh, and Mistress is here too -- she's sinking down into a SUGGESTIVE ALL-FOURS POSTURE, with SLIGHT PELVIS WIGGLING -- she's fond of what she's seeing, to say the least.

In between SCROTAL SMOOCHES, Honey-Bunny addresses the BLASPHEMOUS BITCH with MONOTONED DEFEAT.

HONEY-BUNNY
I'll... play ball... j... just don't... customise... "them."

MISTRESS
I couldn't directly mod your friends if I wanted, Honey-Bunny. I'd need to find someone who yearns to taste them, and I've got other guys to give early field testing opportunities.

AS MAGIC CONTINUES TO CRAWL THE COOLNESS OF HONEY-BUNNY'S LIPS OVER THE WARMTH OF THE CEO'S BOLLOCKS, the Custom Girl breathes in relief that her friend posse won't be hacked too -- her exhalation washes around the base of the man's cock, making his JOHNSON TWITCH AGAINST HER FOREHEAD.

Mistress observes Honey-Bunny's -- if still only slight -- peace of mind, and knows just how to massage it out of her.

She's conflicted however -- she has a reason not to divulge this, but to see the look on the NUT-MUNCHERS'S FACE -- that's way too tantalising.

MISTRESS
You know how I described the suspense before I got to see you swallow, that's nothing compared to the suspense I feel for this... certain day... in the future. Maybe I shouldn't tell you this, but fuck it.

Honey-Bunny worries -- HER HEAD IS THEN COCKED TO ONE SIDE TO AFFORD HER BETTER LEVERAGE IN GENTLY PECKING AT THE UNDERSIDE OF HER USER'S CROWN JEWELS.

MISTRESS
One day in the future, I'll be able to bring about a world without gems. Imagine a Custom Girls worldwide rollout -- launching the first full release of my app -- every mod will be totally free. Billions of you -- a human right. No gems required. And no matter your standing, class, wealth or anything else, every man down to those you wouldn't look twice at, could customise you to their cock's content. Girlboss CEOs, formerly untouchable royalty, man-hating lesbians, that elite handful of actresses every man has jerked off to at least once -- fuck, Hollywood will have a queue. Every one of you a sex toy with infinite fantasy-fulfilling ability for any man that wants to try.

Obviously, Honey-Bunny is horrified by mental images of this fuck-frenzy-apocalypse, but so too, despite the WOMAN'S FACE IN HIS NETHERS, is Honey-Bunny's User concerned by what all this means -- though, the pair of them are worried in different ways.

MISTRESS
Now, I don't do this for noble reasons, Honey-Bunny -- and, yes, in a way there'll be orgasmic chaos throughout the world -- but there'll also be peace. Once I'm able to establish a farm of sexual energy on that scale, I'll be able to do you lot the citrusy of fixing some of your existential problems. Food -- I'll conjure it. Illness -- cured. Stay in your prime sexual years for all time if your Users desire. You really think grand scale conflict will stay in fashion? I'll be able to ensure no physical harm comes to anyone as a direct symptom of any mods, but, while men are still free to do as they want, who's going to be waging wars? There'll be no scarcity of any resources, including one of the most fundamental.

Mistress gestures gracefully to Honey-Bunny's PUSSY.

HONEY-BUNNY'S USER
Okay, I just need to double check... because I don't want her with anyone else -- her body's for me only -- so--

MISTRESS
As promised, I'll work out a system of priority customisation for all my loyal app testers, don't you worry.

That seems to settle his concerned...

..and when the APP REPOSITIONS HIS PACKAGE WORSHIPPER TO TURN HER MOUTH INTO A SENSUAL SLEEVE FOR HIS SNAKE -- COMPLETE WITH SLOW TONGUE TICKLE -- he drifts away from this reality and the conversation.

Mistress makes eye contact with the SAUSAGE SAMPLER and shakes her head -- "no."

She puts a finger to her lips -- "hush."

Honey-Bunny puts the pieces together -- SATAN'S SIDEPIECE isn't going to give anyone,"priority customisation." She wants to make a world that creatively freeuses womankind -- assuring the survival of concepts like couples and marriage isn't her vision -- monogamous relationships are fundamentally incompatible with this global design -- even if they are of the sort where the woman is always just one button press away from giving her man a POLE POLISHING against her wishes.

Even if Honey-Bunny was done with her ZIPPER-DINNER, telling her User that any man could come along and rent her body in Mistress' desired dystopia -- it wouldn't likely result in anything. Her User wouldn't want such a world, but what could he do to stop it, anyway? He probably wouldn't even believe her -- seems like Mistress would deny her true intentions. It's pointless, worthless, hopeless. She resigns herself to LICKING HIS LOLLY. As she's experienced, any protest, any attitude, just makes it worse for her, and wetter for the deviless.

MISTRESS
Oh yes, imagine life being a sandbox of sex. Free, whenever, however, whatever -- realistic or reality-warping scenarios alike. Because what stresses matter when you've got tits around your shaft. Need a distraction? Make that newsreader report the details of her last fuck. Teacher disrespecting you? Make her spank herself every time she asks a question. Want to raid Lara Croft's tomb? Substitute out your coworker's dress and mod her to act the part -- she's perfect casting.

Mistress crawls forth and WHISPERS DEEP into Honey-Bunny's ear.

MISTRESS
So, no, Honey-Bunny, I can't directly control those friends of yours, but if they're lickilicious, once I can bring the world without gems to life, it's inevitable -- some day some guy will mod them to motorboat anyone who glances at their cleavages. It's Mistress' Law -- when I become powerful enough to make it happen, sooner or later, some User will take me up on the offer.

Something starts to fuel a fire within Honey-Bunny -- mistaken easily for APP-DICTATED DETERMINATION TO BLOW HER USER'S LOAD -- a spark of realisation that was lit by the idea of Mistress' plan for all womankind making fighting back the only option. If sex object hell is all but assured, then any consequence from, almost certainly unsuccessful, rebellious efforts couldn't make things any worse.

Honey-Bunny GAGS ON TIP-TO-TONSIL TOUCH, BUT HER SKULL FUCK CONTINUES -- NEARING ITS INEVITABLE END -- as Mistress stands up and steps back.

MISTRESS
Now, let me get a good look at you. First app version, first blowjob, first Custom Girl -- so many firsts. This is truly historic!

Then, the app tester grips the COCK CREAM VESSEL that is the Custom Girl's head, strongly fixing it in place. There's GRUNTING, there's ORGASMIC PELVIC THROAT THRUSTS, and a staring contest between the DOCKING STATION and the HELLSPAWN HOTTIE, as SPUNK-TIDES RHYTHMICALLY EXPLODE INTO HONEY-BUNNY'S MOUTH -- history is made.

INT. THE CUSTOM GIRLS MANSION - NIGHT - PRESENT DAY

SECRET OFFICE

The weight of the stakes sit Charlize down onto a chair.

There's THICK SILENCE.

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
"...will allow us to deliver the official one point zero release in its best possible form..."

HONEY-BUNNY
I had this feeling that defeat would be your instinct -- it was for me, it would be for anyone. But, when "Honey-Bunny" heard we're headed for this "world without gems," I--

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
Nothing to lose.

With no words, Honey-Bunny remarks, "you finished my sentence."

She stands.

She slides a BUNCH OF BINDERS to the corner of the desk nearest the shell-shocked detective.

Charlize looks -- one's titled "DAVE HAINES," one -- "JAMES KIRK PARKER," another just -- "MATHEW."

Upon opening the "Dave Haines" binder, she sees PICTURES OF AN AVERAGE GUY -- PRESUMABLY THE FOLDER'S NAMESAKE -- THAT HAVE THE AESTHETIC OF PAPARAZZI PHOTOGRAPHY -- DAVE WALKING DOWN THE STREET, SPEAKING TO SOMEONE IN A CAR, BEING WELCOMED INTO AN OLDER WOMAN'S HOUSE, ETC.

Flicking through NUMEROUS PAGES, there's DETAILS ON HIS AGE, ADDRESS, APP USE -- RIGHT THE WAY DOWN TO HIS HOBBIES AND FAVOURITE VIDEO GAMES.

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
There's not much focus to what you're recording. You're conducting app user reconnaissance and just noting anything and everything. You have no idea where to even start with finding a link -- the answer to why Mistress picked these guys in particular. Years and you've really found nothing?

DICE
Unfortunately, "Preventing Wet Dream Cataclysms: A How To" and "Stopping Succubae For Dummies" have both sold out.

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
And trying to find a link between Users is the only avenue you've thought of?

DICE
Again, there were limited printings.

HONEY-BUNNY
Well, Charlize, another contributing factor for recruiting you was my hope that you could--

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
That I could use one of your spyware gizmos and give you access to the national criminal database.

HONEY-BUNNY
Well... yes. My algorithm will extract any and all data concerning the couple hundred Users we've been looking into, and maybe in there will be a common thread to pull on.

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
In the faint flicker of hope it leads to... something... that can... somehow... leads us... somewhat... closer to fighting back against Custom Girls... in some way.

The energy in the room says, "I know, but that's all we've got."

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
And how much time do we have before the app's full release?

HONEY-BUNNY
It could be years before Mistress is powerful enough... or it could be seconds. It could be physically possible to stop her... or it might not be. Assuming it is, the wrong mod to the wrong one of us at the wrong time could expose CGA's existence -- "Radical Honesty," "Lifetime Livestream." If we're discovered, Mistress can't stop us directly, but I imagine there'll be a User she can nudge in the direction of spending gems to turn us into a nudist display of living statues -- we'll be cum rags for the rest of time.

She fish out a SMALL SPYWARE GADGET from a DRAWER and places it in front of Charlize.

HONEY-BUNNY
So, yes, I'm asking you to commit a crime. None of this is ideal. We probably won't get all the way through this without bringing each other to orgasm in some fashion, but we remain professional and we remain committed, because none of that matters in the face of what we're trying to stop.

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
There's a bigger one of these "protections," then. There's some kind **** that prevents large scale awareness of the app. That's why there's not so much as a rumour in response to all this.

Honey-Bunny projects a SCREEN RECORDING OF A CABLE NEWS SEGMENT THAT WAS BEING PRESENTED BY AN INSATIABLE FEMALE NEWS ANCHOR.

As Charlize watches it, she has the strangest sensation of awakening memories.

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
Wait... I... I remember this.

HONEY-BUNNY
Anyone who was tuned in two days ago to witness it live will remember it... if prompted. Some unidentified User -- oh, actually, I think I might have a lead on them for you to chase up on as your next assignment, Dice -- anyway, some User obviously modded her, and "other awareness" was set to "on" -- no onlookers were magically manipulated into thinking what happened next was normal. This would have gone viral, but humanity's collective consciousness is gently massaged not to think about it.

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
But, I remember it.

HONEY-BUNNY
Because "Honey-Bunny" brought it up. The memory of this poor woman's stunt wasn't erased, it's just that we're all encouraged not to think back. No governments have moved to investigate these happenings because they can't sustain the intention for longer than the briefest of moments -- they weren't directly involved. It didn't directly effect them.

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
But, we're Custom Girls. Our lives revolve around the app now and we're going to be constantly thinking about the mission.

HONEY-BUNNY
So, you probably won't have any trouble recalling this from now on.

Though MUTED, it's still clear when SORCERY SEIZED CONTROL of the news anchor -- it will have been that moment when her COMPOSED, BUISNESS-LIKE POSTURE IS PERVERTED INTO A THAT OF A LOOSE, SLUTTY PARTY ANIMAL. Her face is wild in its own way -- the frantic confusion of a mortified professional -- while her NOW FERAL BODY PAWS ITS WAY UP ONTO HER DESK, ORIENTS HER PENCIL-SKIRT-PACKAGED BUNS TOWARD THE CAMERA, AND THEN, AFTER A SERIES OF HARSH SELF-SPANKINGS, SHE BEGINS TWERKING LIKE THERE'S NO TOMORROW.

HONEY-BUNNY
The User would have had to be in that TV studio to buy her onto his list of customisable girls -- seems the initial step of adding a girl to your list is more magic intensive and is still restricted to an effect radius of twenty five metres -- but once on there, the effect radius of the app has been steadily upgraded over time. He was probably kicking back at home, watching her cheeks dance... Darren can press that hotkey and make you say, "yes, Daddy," from the other side of the planet, if he wanted to. There's no safe distance once a User's bought you -- that's what we're up against. So, Detective Charlize Winslow, a question in summary -- a world without gems -- are you going to help us stop it?

Charlize looks at the SOAPY TECH WIZARD.

Then to the QUIPSTER EX VETERAN.

And, finally, deep within the INCISIVE INVESTIGATOR herself -- she finds fear...

..and ferocity.

She stands.

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
You know, girls, I--

DING.

The interrupting NOTIFICATION ALTERT came from Honey-Bunny's computer, and it fuels the NAKED BROAD with urgency!

She SWIVELS SHARPLY!

A DIGITAL DASH through a CROWD OF OPEN TABS lands her back in the window housing the code-wall we saw earlier!

A NEW LINE HAS APPEARED -- "DICE" HAS BEEN MODDED JUST SECONDS AGO WITH "THIS BITCH IS SPONSORED BY..."

This news plasters horror on Dice's face.

SILENT SUSPENSE.

DICE
The bastard's usually asleep for another few hours! Why're they modding me?! I'm not even with them!

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
If your User's anything like mine, doom scrolling through mod descriptions is probably enough, and very tempting.

HONEY-BUNNY
Well, thankfully, we're not in trouble. That mod shouldn't expose CGA.

DICE
"Feeling exposed?!"

Dice's NOW OVER THE TOP VOICE, ALONG WITH HER NOW EXAGGERATED MANNERISMS, OOZE THE CHEERFULLY CHEESY PERFORMANCE OF AN ACTOR FROM AN ANNOYINGLY ENERGETIC ADVERT.

DICE
"No problemo, sailor! Put everyone on the same page with the Dignity Equalizer from Custom Girls!"

The CORPORATE MOUTHPIECE GRINS A STUPID SMILE, CONTRASTING WITH THE RAGE IN HER TENSING BROW, AND THE REBELLIOUS BADASS WHO, FOR THE TIME BEING, IS LOCKED BEHIND HER EYES.

A RING MAGICALLY APPEARS on Honey-Bunny's desk.

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
What the hell is happening?!

HONEY-BUNNY
The mod is level one -- both of you, just bare with it for thirty-ish seconds.

DICE
"Simply put on the Dignity Equalizer, and with a simple tap, remove yourself from the center of those embarrassing moments -- now with a fifty metre radius of dispersed awkwardness!"

Dice's body is PROUDLY MARCHED over to the desk.

She PUTS ON THE RING and with A HAMMED UP WINK TO A NON-EXISTENT CAMERAMAN, she TAPS THE RING WITH A FLOURISH.

Honey-Bunny notices nothing...

..but, then she looks over to the detective -- Charlize has CONTRACTED AN INSTANT-ACTING CASE OF TOTAL NUDITY -- her BREASTS BOBBLING IN THEIR NEWFOUND FREEDOM.

She shrieks, while RACING TO HIDE HER ASSETS with the Dave Haines folder and her offhand!

There's the UNDRESSED DUO, and then there's the live camera feed of the upstairs Custom Girls Anonymous gathering -- those women are puzzled by their SUDDEN DISROBING too -- their sacred chair-circle now an IN THE BUFF ONLY ZONE.

DICE
"Whether thanks to some innocent cringe, a Freudian slip, or getting rejected by that special someone, you'll now only be one tap away from flipping the tables!"

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
What the hell?!

Dice is then WALKED OVER TO THE UNVEILED SLEUTH.

DICE
"Take Charlize here -- let's see how she feels -- she was judging your embarrassing mistake in one moment, then showcasing her body in the next!"

Suddenly, CHARLIZE IS **** TO MEET THE VIBE OF THE PAGEANTY -- NOW EMBELLISHING HER EMBARESSMENT WITH SLAPSTICK, "OOPSIE DAISY," EXPRESSIONS. And then, HER VOICE, TOO, GETS HIJACKED.

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
"I was laughing at my coworker for being wrong about his profit predictions -- now it's a don't bring your clothes to work day! I'm so embarrassed!"

DICE
"Jolly good! Get the Dignity Equalizer for just a small investment -- prices vary -- with only a few extra gems unlocking a range of further customisations -- all from within our app! Maybe when they're judging you for getting an answer wrong in your lecture, you also want them to share their embarrassing secrets!"

With another click of the ring, the NO OPTOUT PERFORMANCE HAS GRABBED HONEY-BUNNY TOO.

HONEY-BUNNY
"Once, I had roommates who jumped out at me as a prank and I dropped my towel!"

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
"I once made an awkward adjustment right before a job interview, and had to do the whole thing disguising a wedgy!"

Honey-Bunny and Charlize Winslow get red cheeks.

Dice tries to fight the mod's control -- no success.

DICE
"Hilarious! Or maybe you'd rather they dance?"

CHARLIZE WINSLOW
"Woohoo!"

HONEY-BUNNY
"Let's shake what we got ladies!"

Dice now watches as the pair of them SPRING INTO A CHOATIC AMATEUR BOOGIE -- we hear grunts from the HIGH EFFORT SAMBAS PERSCRIBED TO THEM, and we see the Custom Girls meeting upstairs is, similarly, a SELF CONSCIOUS SEA OF BOUNCING BOOBIES.

DICE
"I mean, what have you got to be ashamed of, when you're calling on your Dignity Equalizer to make everyone around you silently mash their naked bodies together?!"

Awkward it sure is -- the Custom Girls want to protest, but they can't even do as much as break the SILENCE -- quiet that makes way for the SOUNDSCAPE OF INELEGANT BREATHING IN ONE ANOTHER'S FACES, THE SOFT PATTING OF THEIR BARE BELLIES CLAPPING TOGETHER, THE SQUELCH OF CHARLIZE'S PALM GLIDING UP AND DOWN THE WATERY CURVE OF HONEY-BUNNY'S BACK.

The two women don't know where to look as THEY ARE MADE TO MAP THE OTHER'S ANATOMY WITH THEIR OWN -- A MORTIFYINGLY AWKWARD SLIP AND SLIDE OF INTIMACY, HAVING ONLY SHARED A SINGLE EVENING'S CONVERSATION BEFORE THIS.

DICE'S HANDS BRANDISH THE RING.

DICE
"The Dignity Equalizer from Custom Girls -- the cure to social awkwardness!"

DICE'S VOICE REMAINS SCRIPTED -- but WE FADE OUT ALL DIEGETIC SOUND, as we ZOOM IN on Charlize's face.

Cheek to cheek with Honey-Bunny -- their BODIES STILL RUBBING TOGETHER WITH COMEDIC STIFFNESS -- the detective focuses on the Custom Girls upstairs -- who, mere moments ago, were clothed and confiding in each other -- but have now BEEN COMMANDEERED TO PACK THEIR BARENESS TOGETHER LIKE SARDINES.

Then the detective looks to the corner of Honey-Bunny's computer monitor, which continues to display the footage of an unlucky newsreader -- she's graduated from twerking, to TITTIE JUGGLING.

Then she sees Dice -- FACE CONTORTED INTO A SMILING DELIVERY OF LEGAL DISCLAIMERS.

And then it's back to Honey-Bunny -- as THE LAST FEW MOMENTS OF THE SPELL IS HAVING THEM CIRCLE EACH OTHER'S UDDERS WITH THEIR NIPPLES, MASH THEIR LIPS TOGETHER WITHOUT KISSING and NUZZLE THEIR CUTE LITTLE NOSES, they meet each other in eye contact, and there's a recognition.

The detective was robbed of the chance to formally announce her acceptance of the mission, but it's clear for Honey-Bunny to see... Charlize Winslow isn't going to sit by and let this spread worldwide -- in her head, in this moment, she vows to try everything to prevent Mistress from graduating to selling her entire gender's sexual play for free.

ENDING CREDITS SEQUENCE.

END OF CHAPTER.