Unfortunately for her... No

Things got off to a rocky start. First, Jess foolishly forgot to check the sinks for measuring cups and pie pans. Instead, she decided to try her hand amongst the greedy cupboards. While opening an overhead cupboard, the doors to the ones at her waist flew open, and pair of grabbing hands seized her tight white jeans. In a flash, the fabric was ripped off her shapely waist, pooling at her ankles. She stood dumb-founded. Her lacy lavender thong now the only covering left for her lower half. All that time walking about the diner had left her with a beautifully toned buttocks. The thong only further accentuated her feminine curves.

Jessica was no fan of suddenly loosing her clothing, and instinctively attempted to cover herself with her hands. Unfortunately, a pair of mechanical hands grasped at the hems of her shirt sleeves as she moved to hide her shame. In a fluid motion, her hands receded, and the shirt was smoothly pulled over her head. The sudden change startled, her, knocking her on her beautiful posterior. Now that she had essentially been swept off her feet, the lower cabinet provided a final yank, removing her pants entirely. Before she could react, her clothes had disappeared into the dark recesses of the cabinet.

She sat there a moment trying to grasp what had happened. The cold stone floor chilled her round buttocks. The sensation perked her nipples, which now pressed through the sheer tan mesh of her otherwise lavender bra. Less than a minute in, and she was already ****. Her thong did nearly nothing to hide her shapely ass. Her bra worked over-time to raise her humble breasts into modest cleavage. Jessica possessed a taught, trim figure, but she would have much rathered not to have it on display. It took a few moments for the shock to clear itself from her mind, for her crimson painted lips to revert from a shocked gasp back to a concerned pout. Another error like that, and she may not have to worry about Nova finding her.

After taking a moment to gather herself, Jessica rose from the floor and examined her surroundings once more. Clearly, she wasn't going to risk the cabinets again. After perusing the rest of the room, she found her utensils and pans scattered about the three large sinks in the room. Thankfully, the refrigerator was not booby-trapped, and she could gather her ingredients in peace. The cold, however, further stimulated her skin. She felt exposed and ****, bending over in nothing but her thong as she searched each shelf. A wave of embarrassment flushed over her, knowing full well every ridge and fold of her labia pressed against her rather thin underwear. Her ass was on full display for every viewer from a myriad of hidden cameras. She couldn't even try to hide or cover herself, as her hands were busy gathering ingredients. "Ohh... how much can they see? Why'd they make me wear a thong for this? This is humiliating!" Jess's mind raced as she hurriedly grabbed her ingredients for the recipe.

Had she been of a right state of mind, Jess probably would've seen the error in her instructions. There were no eggs in the cheesecake. It was effectively a sweetened condensed milk pudding with some pie filling on top. There was no need to bake it. In fact, at the temperature and time suggested on the recipe, the whole thing would've ended up being burnt to a crisp. As it was, Jessica was far, far more interested in strategically shuffling her hands to alternate covering her engorged nipples and perfect posterior on proud display. She was no fan of the daring dark mesh above her barely concealed womanhood, but the front of her precarious panties did hide her far more than the rest of her undergarments. So distracted in her attempts to preserve her modesty, Jessica blindly followed her instructions.

Unfortunately, setting the oven to 500 degrees did not disarm the trap. While she might have been wary if she weren't so distraught, Jess merely sighed with relief when the oven apparently reached it's operating temperature nigh instantly. In went the no-bake cake. Seconds later, a loud mechanical noise sounded from the interior of the oven, followed by a cordial *ding*. Jess tried to open the contraption. The door stayed shut. Locked for some reason. Jess took a second before realizing she probably ought to wear oven mitts before taking out a cake. Despite appearing perfectly well sized, she noticed the mitts were quite difficult to put on. She had to put great effort into tugging and tightening each glove to get a comfortable fit, even resorting to biting the hem to help pull them on, leaving a faint shadow of her red lipstick behind. Only after successfully fighting the gloves did she her a disheartening *click*. The thick fabric gloves fell away, leaving behind shiny black leather mittens, complete with locked buckles about her wrists and d-rings at the tip of the mitten for easy attachment to further troubles.

Nearly naked. Check. Hands bound. Check. Embarrassed and nearly beaten by the first room. Check.

Jessica cursed at herself for her foolishness. Deciding that at her current disadvantage she really couldn't afford to walk away from a boon, Jessica returned to the oven. Now adorned with her mittens, the device opened with ease. "Of course..." she thought to herself. As she reached into the oven, mechanical hands inside the oven reached out to meet her. With a click and clack, and few muffled screams, Jessica was pulled into a rather compromising position. Hooks wrapped about her ankles and knees, spreading her legs. The door rose at an angle to her hips and **** her ass to jut out in a rather tempting pose. Her hands, newly wrapped in her leather mittens, were secured by d-rings to a surface far in the back of the dark depths of the oven. The entire ordeal stretched the poor girl out to the point she could could hardly struggle, let alone hide her shame. Her beautiful buttocks in lovely lavender lingerie squirmed and wiggled as much as she could afford, only further highlighting how well toned and helpless she was. The fabric could scarcely contain her womanhood, it's every curve finely detailed in full display.

She could feel something playing with her nipples through the sheer fabric of her bra. ****, completely and utterly ****, she could do nothing but endure the humiliation as the machine fondled her breasts. In truth, the teasing onslaught did not last long. Only a few minutes passed before the oven released its captive. For Jessica, it felt like an eternity. A wet spot had managed to seep its way through her thong, unable to quell her arousal while bound and teased. She was so engrossed in her torment, the raven-haired woman failed to notice the sharp clicking of three pairs of high heels approaching. The machine released its captive, leaving Jessica to slump into an especially undignified heap on the oven's door. Flustered but relieved, she pushed herself onto her feet, only to feel a hand suddenly on her shoulder.

Jessica was spun around rather forcefully, and brought face to face with a trio of Waitstaff. These representatives of the Manor each held an article of clothing Jessica would really have preferred not being **** to wear: A long black latex hobble skirt with cutouts about the crotch and rump to keep the wearer contained but on display; a black latex hood that may or may not have had accommodations for viewing/speaking, and what appeared to be a long-sleeved black latex shirt, though notably it lacked most of the front. Each Waitstaff also appeared to be holding an accessory of sorts. While it was easy to guess the purpose of a large red ball gag and black latex mask, the serving plate and silver chains bookended with alligator clips was a more challenging deduction.

Despite her deepest wishes, in her discombobulated state, Jessica was not in any condition to resist the Waitstaff. In but a few short minutes, our dear contestant suffered her first full penalty. Her curly raven locks were **** into a tall, tight ponytail and shoved through a small opening towards the back of her new mask. The mask itself nearly blinded her, but a few small perforations in front of each eye provided a limited view of the world before her. A large, chewy ball gag filled her mouth and **** her lips into a voluptuous pout. Impressively, the color matched her lipstick well. Even more impressively, it tasted faintly of cherries, making the experience slightly less unbearable. The neck of the mask overlapped with the high collar of her new latex shirt. Both were secured to each other via a small golden padlock threaded through the zippers of garments. From there, her arms were bound tight to her ribs on either side by thick leather straps. Her arms bent at the elbows such that they could support a large silver platter, at the end of witch her mitted hands were secured by a series of chains to the edge of the platter, ensuring that she couldn't drop it no matter how desperately she might try.

Jessica considered for a moment how desperately she wished she hadn't been **** to wear that lacey lavender bra at the start of the competition. Now she rather wished she were still wearing it. Instead, her petite breasts now lie in full exposure. She was ashamed to have their soft, milky curves fully exposed. She wished their every bounce and jiggle were not on full display. The platter lay beneath them like a teasing showcase. If her chest were larger, it might rest upon the polished surface. As it lay, the cool metal sat just below her exposed flesh, mocking her. Chains attached the plate to various points about her shirt, ensuring the platter would stay put and level no matter how she twisted. Two tiny pink bows adorned each nipple. The elastic they were attached to **** her nubs into permanent display. Her every step agitated them just enough to tease and taunt her, reminding her of her shame. She hated being so humiliated. She hated feeling the ribbon caress her with every step. She hated most of all, that it was arousing her. Her little pink peaks begged for further attention, but with her hands bound and the infernal platter in the way, she was helpless to address that need.

At first, Jessica could not tell if she'd been similarly exposed below her waist as she was above. The Waitstaff had played a horrible game with her, pulling her panties down to her knees and up again. They grabbed handkerchiefs and rubbed them against her womanhood. They slid the fabric betwixt her thighs and spanked her. Sometimes with the dainty fabric, often with their cruel hands. She'd lost track exactly how often her thong had been removed and replaced, brought to her ankles, and painfully pulled above her waist, nearly to her armpits. It was a ravishing whir of temptation, belittlement... domination which left her usure of a great many things. It was only when they seemingly had had their fun and set her on her feet that Jessica was even aware of how severe the latex skirt truly was. Each step put tremendous strain on her thighs and ankles. Were she not wearing high heels, she might've thought to hop, despite how embarrassing that ordeal would be. As the last Waitstaff prepared to leave, she was presented with a familiar bolt of lavender cloth. The cruel woman brought the garment to Jessica's nose, or rather the two tiny holes in the mask that let her breathe. It was bad enough knowing she was completely exposed. The thong hadn't done a thing to hide her shapely buttocks, but at least no-one would see her clean-shaven lady bits. It was worse to feel just how wet those women had gotten her. The thong was rather unceremoniously dropped on her platter, as though it should be delivered to whomever she should bump into next. With a playful smack on her now fully exposed rear, the Waitstaff left.

Jessica squirmed and moaned into her gag. What hope did she have now? She still had to maneuver through the rest of The Manor. And somehow defeat Nova... what on Earth was she going to do?