The city seems best.

You decide to make your was into town, sort of because it was the way you were facing when you arrived. The oppressive sun beats down and you wish you had sun glasses and a very light cloak to protect your skin. As you pass through the open gate you see a very old looking city that is much more full of life than you were expecting. Most everyone you see is dressed in light gossamer thin clothing, long flowing robes, or to your surprise you see several that are dressed in just a harness, like you, with only their nether regions covered, their breasts only covered slightly by light chains if at all. So oddly enough you seem to fit right in.

You walk around the city in about three hours looking for poor or downtrodden people to be charitable to, but never really find any, other than a single old dude that you give several gold which lights up his face but he doesn’t even say thank you. You also find someone selling silks and get your long semi transparent hooded cloak. When you have it on, deciding on light blue, the woman selling the silks stands you in front of a mirror. “Oh shit, I’d bang that slut.” You say and watch your mouth say the words. Sorta large expressive blue eyes, a perky nose still sporting that now somehow even more cute ring, sexy slightly thin yet infinitely kissable lips with bright red gloss. You have a long bright red top knot ponytail but the sides and back of your head are shaved smooth as silk. Sexy little A cup breasts stand proudly on your slender but rather athletic body. Long legs and hell with how skinny you are your torso even seems long and sexy. The harness seems to amplify the sexy as it runs along muscle lines and subtly visible bone structure under your shining sweaty smooth skin. And that ass. With every motion it seems to command attention yet seems tight and strong enough to bounce a quarter off of.

You spend a few more of your limited coins acquiring a fresh meal of fish, bread, and lightly alcoholic wine. The next seven hours you spend searching the town for some sort of clue as to what the test is but other than many many sexual advances, though most seem rather afraid of your apparently uncommon weapons. Though you get the idea that many if not most have no idea what they are. Finally dusk falls and you happen to stroll past an inn with someone singing within. The moment you enter your mouth drops, the singer is the cat girl from the tomb. No huge phallus, in fact she is essentially dressed exactly like you. She wears the harness she wore, but with leather covering her naughty bits and low heel leather boots cover her feet. She is singing a sad tune while playing a long stringed instrument that is lying across her lap. The crowd of maybe twenty watch as they eat and drink and it would seem that wherever here is, watching a 7’ cat woman sing is as normal as anything. You buy a nights stay and stand there watching the show till she disappears back stage as her set ends.

A man in a fancy purple robe walks on stage, “Yeah, isn’t she great folks. Let’s hear it for D’Jadera. Now don’t forget the highest bidder in the next half hour can spend the night with a real princess. D’Jadera folks. Place any bids with the bartender. The winner will be contacted in an hour.” He the then waves his hand, “Next on stage is Brittany.” Sure enough it is her. She wears the exact same basically transparent skimpy dress and starts dancing seductively to the music of an offstage band. It is rather hard to stop watching, especially when she tosses off her top. Her cute little nipples simply demand you watch and you get a drink and sit down. To your surprise near the end of her routine she looks you in the eye, blinks, then smiles and waves to you. Then she is off the stage and the announcers voice calls out, “Next on stage, The Baroness. It isn’t anyone you recognize, she is a tall raven haired beautiful woman with somewhat hawk like features and yet a more voluptuous figure. Unlike the scantily clad Brittany, she is in full renaissance garb. Though as she dances she begins slowly shedding layers of clothing.

A small boy walks up to you with a brass key. “Miss Brittany has requested your presence in room 15 upstairs. She says to bring wine.” He holds out the key.