Yes, Mistress.

The following experience is one marked by a transient loss of consciousness, as your mind alternates between fits of bliss and a blackened, thrumming abyss.

You awaken momentarily to find yourself suckling at the teat of your motherly Mistress as she holds your head in her lap and dotingly strokes your hair. You lethargically look up at her as warm, sweet milk fills your mouth.

The Mistress coos in delight as you dutifully swallow the delicious liquid and continue to draw forth more from her bountiful bosom.

Your body begins to tingle as the Mistress’s comforting milk coats your stomach with its corruptive influence. In these brief moments of wakefulness, you feel your physical form beginning to subtly shift. This revelation might prove alarming, if only you could remember to care.

Instead, your moments of consciousness are spent gazing up at the golden, captivating eyes of your Mistress, as you unthinkingly drain every drop of her delectable milk into your awaiting maw.

…

You groggily remember her getting up to leave. She definitely said something as she looked down on you with impressed eyes. If only you could recall what it was.

…

…

You awaken sometime later, unsteady and disorientated. Your vision glosses over as you grip your pounding head and attempt to make sense of recent events. Upon doing so, you feel two small nubby protrusions growing forth from the sides of your forehead. Your eyes go wide with shock as you begin to piece together what likely happened.

Lesson five. Acceptance. That milk you drank. The shifting physical feeling of change. The Mistress claimed that you would prove yourself to be a part of this place; is that what this is?

If so, how much of you has changed?

And how much will change in the future?

You take brief stock of your physical form and find that most of it remains as it was; at least as far as you can tell. Well, save for the emergent horns on your head, and one other important part of your body.

You stare down in disbelief at your cock, which seems to have grown at least twice in size. You skeptically grip it in your hand and give it a few pumps. As you do, it begins to grow to an even larger aroused state. You marvel at the sight of this change, as you continue to struggle with the truth of it.

You wonder silently to yourself why the Mistress would decide to grant you a larger cock, but you certainly aren’t going to complain.

You look around the room for any other noticeable changes. As you do, you find a set of keys attached to a ring on the floor beside you. You pick the item up and instantly recognize it: this is the keyring that the Mistress uses to unlock your cell…

But why would she leave it here? Is this another test? Does she wish to see what you will do with your freedom?

You cautiously walk toward the door of your cell and peer around the dimly lit hall for any sign of life. No one is around, as far as you can tell.

You try the cell door and find that it is already unlocked.

It seems that you have been granted a measure of freedom, but looks can be wildly deceiving. You decide not to capitalize on this freedom until you have it verbally confirmed. After all that you have been through, this would be a stupid way to erase the good faith that you have garnered with the Mistress.

You slink back to the far corner of your cell and take a seat once more.

Who knows when the Mistress will return, but you feel content with the state of things. Your belly feels full, and your purpose is slowly clarifying.

You place your hands on the walls of the cell and once more attempt to convene with the essence of this corrupt facility. You feel welcomed, as a blanket of warm energy envelops your body. No visions or premonitions are granted, but the experience is enjoyable and arousing nonetheless.

You attempt to contain your lecherous desires, as the Mistress has not yet given you permission to act upon them. Instead, you spend an indeterminable amount of time trying to convene with the thrumming energy of this place. Perhaps in time, you will learn to control a measure of its power.