Tough it out...

Deciding to tough it out, Nami grit her teeth as countless hands ran down her body. She held back a squeal as she felt the slime of tongues run down the small of her back, and had to stop herself from screaming as the inmates tugged on her hair and pulled at her breasts.

Even after the footsteps of the guards had faded into the distance, the violent groping continued, the helpless navigator unable to break free of the depraved hands feeling every inch of her.

It had to have been at least an hour when she was finally released, the prisoners bored as well as conceding that they could only go so far with those iron bars in the way.

Nami dropped forward to the cold floor, panting for breath as her abused body recovered. White and yellow stains covered her hair and her back, and one of the more fortunate inmates had managed to strip away her bra as a trophy of sorts. She didn't want to think of what he'd use it for.

Once she had caught her second wind, she gave the inmates behind a glare of ****, and though she knew they weren't real, she promised herself that somehow she'd make them pay.

Further exploring of the prison found her an extra set of prison garb, though not an ideal disguise, it was at least better than running around exposed to those leering eyes — not that they stopped anyway.

Eventually she met a set of stairs, one going deeper into the depths of hell, while the other led upstairs. If she was to clear the game, she would have to make a decision...