Try to escape

You stomp hard on the tentacle and bolt.

This doesn't go particularly well. The tentacle is much tougher than you imagined, and doesn't let go. When you reach your maximum distance, it pulls you up short with a painful jerk.

Before you can do much else, longer, thinner tendrils exude from your owner and entangle your legs and arm. "Ooh, I do like a bit of fight," {if Owner = 1} he {endif} {if Owner = 2} she {endif} {if Owner = 3} it {endif} croons. "But we'll work that out of you soon enough, won't we, my pet?"

The tendrils tighten, jamming your legs together and forcing the leash tentacle hard against your clit. They pull your arms together behind your back, wrenching your shoulders painfully. Then, ignoring any protest you might make, your owner starts walking again, dragging you backwards, face down, by the tentacle in your cunt.

At least there aren't too many people around to witness your humiliating journey down the walkway. Everything has a bright side.

Your owner takes you onto one of the smallest spaceships, barely the size of a large room, and drops you on a platform in the corner. The platform is circular, pale pink, and about four metres in diameter. {if Owner = 1} He {endif} {if Owner = 2} She {endif} {if Owner = 3} It {endif} doesn't release you until {if Owner = 1} he {endif} {if Owner = 2} she {endif} {if Owner = 3} it {endif} locks a wide pink collar around your neck and attaches it to a two-metre chain in the center of the platform.

"I suggest you sleep, pet. You're going to need your energy for your big debut tomorrow."

Your owner heads off to a complicated-looking control panel over the other side of the room, ignoring you. Down one side of your platform is a crude toilet and a large tub filled with soapy, perfumed water. Down the other end are two bowls, one containing clean water and one containing a chunky, meaty-looking gelatinous substance. There is nothing else on the platform.