See if sumbitting helps you escape

As the mechanical arms position themselves around your restrained body, you make a split-second decision to stop fighting. Perhaps submission will get this over with quickly. You **** your muscles to relax, surrendering to the inevitable.

The temple's system seems to detect your change in attitude immediately. "Subject compliance detected," the high-pitched voice announces. "Adjusting protocol parameters."

The arms pause momentarily, recalibrating. When they resume their movements, they're gentler but more precise, as if rewarding your submission. The hands massaging your golden-milk-covered breasts knead with exquisite skill, finding pressure points you never knew existed. Your nipples, caught in the rhythmic suction of the cups, pulse with milk that now shimmers with golden light.

"Preparing subject for deep fertility enhancement," the voice announces as the phallus-shaped attachment at your pussy entrance begins to push inside.

You gasp as it enters you, thick and unyielding yet somehow perfectly matched to your anatomy. It pulses with a warm energy that spreads through your lower abdomen, sending tendrils of pleasure outward. Your enhanced clit throbs visibly as a smaller attachment positions itself directly over it, vibrating with increasing intensity.

"Initial preparation complete," the voice declares. "Beginning essence extraction sequence."

The mechanical arms work in perfect harmony, the phallus thrusting while the breast manipulators squeeze and release. Each pull on your nipples draws forth more golden milk, which collects in tubes that carry it away to unseen receptacles. Your breathing becomes ragged as pleasure builds rapidly, your transformed body responding with embarrassing eagerness.

"First climax approaching," the voice announces clinically. "Prepare for imprinting."

Before you can question what that means, the stimulation intensifies dramatically. The phallus inside you begins to vibrate while expanding, pressing against your g-spot with merciless precision. The suction on your nipples increases to an almost painful level, drawing milk in forceful streams that trigger cascading waves of pleasure.

"Oh fuck!" you cry out as your orgasm crashes through you with unexpected ****. Your pussy clamps down on the mechanical phallus, your back arches as far as the restraints allow, and your breasts release torrents of golden milk that the system eagerly collects.

As you convulse in ecstasy, strange symbols on the wall begin to glow with the same golden light as your milk. They pulse in rhythm with your orgasm, growing brighter with each spasm.

"Imprinting initiated," the voice announces with satisfaction.

You feel something changing deep within you—not just physically but on some primal, almost magical level. The golden energy from your milk seems to flow back into you through invisible channels, concentrating in your womb and breasts. Your pussy continues to clench and release long after your conscious orgasm subsides, as if your body is being programmed for something beyond your understanding.

"Subject compatibility confirmed," the voice declares. "Initiating secondary transformation protocol."

The mechanical phallus withdraws from your soaking pussy, leaving you empty and strangely bereft. The arm retracts into the ceiling, but before you can feel relief, it returns with a different attachment—larger, more intricate, and glowing with the same golden energy as your milk.

"Advanced fertility vessel preparation required," the voice explains as the new attachment hovers between your spread legs. "This may cause intense sensation."

The understatement becomes immediately apparent as the golden phallus pushes into you, expanding to fill you completely. Unlike the previous attachment, this one seems alive somehow, pulsing with energy that resonates with the changes already occurring in your body.