Refuse

"This one does have some fight," Kistel notes appreciatively. "Great buy, Maive!"

"Hmm. Maybe you're right; if it won't eat food, we'll have to keep it fed another way." They pull you away from the meat. "For five days, Dreg only gets cum and water. We'll see how eager it is to refuse food then. Grab me a brush, will you?"

Kistel rummages around in a small cupboard and pulls out what looks like a paintbrush and a small pot of ink. They hand it to Maive, who {if Filthy = true}wipes the cum off your breasts{endif} and writes a series of unfamiliar letters across your chest that you know, somehow, reads Attention crew: I am ONLY allowed to eat cum. Do not feed me anything else.

"How do you know the ink will last five days?" Kistel asks. "We don't know how human skin works."

"If it lasts less, we can repaint it."

"And if it lasts more?"

"Then Dreg is just shit out of luck, isn't it?"

"You got any plans for Dreg today?"

"Nah. My roster's mostly clear. Do you need it?"

"Krik was talking about needing extra hands in cargo."

"Oh, good timing on this purchase, then. Can you show Dreg where it is?"

"You got it." Kistel grabs your arm and pulls you out of the room. They pay no attention on whether you're keeping up or need to be dragged as they head through a maze of corridors, up and down some ramps, and toss you into a massive room filled with crates. "Krik! I brought some help with the cargo!"

Kistel leaves, shutting the door, before Krik appears from behind some crates. Krik is the smallest Chullian on the crew, noticeable for the chunk missing from their right ear, and looks you up and down, unimpressed.

"Of course they'd just send you. It's not like this is important, or anything. Come here, I've got things for you to carry."