FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Dripping. That was the first sound that made itself known as the young woman slowly came to, her consciousness swimming hazily about as whatever drug she was dosed with finally began the process of wearing off. The second noise was her own pulse, more specifically the thumping noise that seemed to pound at her eardrums and about her temples. It felt like she had a nightmare of a hangover. What happened last night anyway?

The memory was not quite there, everything still slowly coming back together, but not quite just yet. What was clear, however, was that Marisse was not in her bedroom. The rhythmic dripping coming from the distance was more than enough to signal that. Sitting up she found that she was sleeping on a nice, if not somewhat low end full sized bed, the bed spread ornate and rather dated in its look. Glancing around it seemed the motif held throughout. White washed walls with busy looking portraits and quaint landscape pieces hung throughout only further dated the room, not to mention the turquoise drapes dangling from the polished bronze rods above the single window on the room.

A hotel room. It had to be a hotel room. But why?

Aside from the wall furnishings and the bed besides the window, which seemed to be leaking slightly about the frame the more she looked at it, rain gently pouring outside, there was only a futon couch and what looked to be an office desk with a rather fancy laptop on it. The overhead lamp beside it had been left on, leaving it in a spotlight of sorts, as if asking to be used in spite of it obviously not being her own. But just as she started for it, a loud knock came from the door.

"Ji?ofù!" A voice from the other end said. Before she could respond she heard whomever was on the other side of the door drop something, followed by heavy footsteps that trailed off into the silence after a moment. It seemed the more Marisse came to, the more confusing the situation became.

Marisse wasn't dry - she drank a little every now and then, but never to excess. Never to the point of blacking out, which was the first conclusion her mind jumped to. If she'd done that, maybe gotten a tattoo or something, and somehow ended up in a hotel, that'd be fine with her - it was easily escaped, and any mistakes she'd made were easily forgiven or forgotten. Except the tattoo, she figured.

She looked down for a moment to try and see any fresh bandages marking any new... Additions to herself, but found only the same smooth, largely unblemished flesh she was used to seeing... And only that. She was completely nude. Her cheeks flushed red at this discovery, not because she was particularly embarrassed, nobody was looking, but because she hoped she didn't strip in front of anybody before getting into this room. Or after, for that matter.

Somehow, she doubted this was the case. Her mouth was dry and in it was an odd, chemical taste, like that of anaesthetic... Had she been knocked out? Her dry lips smacked as she stared back up at the unfamiliar ceiling, fear tangible within her, twisting her empty stomach into a knot while she just sat still on the bed. It wasn't just that the room was unfamiliar that scared her - it was something else. Like she didn't belong there.

Her slim legs swung over the edge of the bed and tentatively made landfall on the floor, as if wary that something painful was awaiting them down there. She rose slowly, one hand supporting herself on the bed and the other held against her head, weaving through her soft, blonde locks. Unstyled as her hair was, it simply hung down to her chin. Headrush blinded and dizzied her, stalling her for just a second before she shoved herself off from the bed, heel-toeing like a drunk as she reoriented herself, walking in a quick circle.

Shaking her head to clear the last few cobwebs from it, rubbing her eyes to clear them too, she moved over to the window, peering out to see if she can make out any familiar scenery.

The fear of being drugged made her heart flutter. She was so careful about such things. Could it have been a roofie? No, she would have held her drink the entire time, right? For a moment Marisse became convinced she had been raped but...the room didn't smell like she had any sex in it. If anything the place had the very faint smell of mildew, like an underlying cheapness that seemed to be a consistent theme for this place so far.

Looking out of the window she felt her stomach drop. The view was not only completely unfamiliar, but completely foreign too. Outside a thick fog had rolled in with the rain, but what she did see was alarming. Billboards, neon signs, and cramped building structures hindered what view she did see. The buildings outside jutted high and were packed tightly together, interwoven with iron fire escapes, clothing, telephone, and cable lines running to and fro, as well as the occasional plastic bag caught on one thing or another. The closest building had to be only 10 feet from the window, obscuring half of the view down what looked to be a road, or was it an alley? On the various signs she could make out, the characters looked like they were in Chinese or Japanese, or some Asian language, she really did not know.

Keep calm, maybe this was just the heart of Chinatown.

Part of Marisse knew it was not Chinatown. Looking around she did not see a suitcase either. Was she just dropped off here with just the clothes on her back? If so where were even those? The slightly stained carpeted floor was largely barren. How was she supposed to leave? There was no phone in the room either. However, by the front door was an old fashioned intercom with two grimy, off white buttons to push, but she had no idea which did what. Besides, what would she even say, and if anyone came up how would she-

The door!

Someone had said something at the door and dropped something from the sounds of it, maybe it was her clothes! But, glancing down at her nude form...She would have to be quick. Stepping towards the door the floor beneath her creaked loudly and somewhat alarmingly, as if it was not made for heavy traffic, or light traffic in this case. The door had a cheap deadbolt but that was about it. Sliding that off to the side she creaked the door open enough to see that no one was standing by, but did see there was a plastic bag at the foot of the door. Grabbing it she brought it back in.

Inside the bag were several paper cartons of what smelled to be Chinese food, at least she thought it was. There was a pack of cigarettes, some bottles of pills, what looked to be vodka, a few bottles of water, and what looked to be a computer headset. She closed the door and turned back towards the room and made her way to the desk, her stomach gurgling ominously at the smell of that food.

It seemed that the walls were somewhat thin. Marisse could hear the muffled murmuring of hushed voices on either side of the small room. In a way, it was unsettling, almost as if she was being watched. While she was in this room alone, with such thin walls it was not like she really had total privacy at least.

With only a bed, a desk, a window, and a bathroom, it was not like there was much to do while she ate. But as she laid everything out on the desk she noticed there was a small handwritten note in the bag. Unfolding it, it read:

"Dear Marisse,

Welcome to your new home for the time being. We apologize for any inconvenience that you might experience over the coming days during your transition to your new life working for JadeTech Services.We feel that, in time, you will come to love your new allotment we have generously given to you at no small expense. The rules are simple. You will work six days a week from here in your home using the computer provided. Follow the directions on the computer accordingly and you should be fine.

You may not leave this building for any reason whatsoever. Attempting to leave the premises, inform the authorities or Embassy of your whereabouts or reveal your situation in any way, shape, or form to any individual in person, online, or other type of communication will be met with swift consequences to ensure that these violations are not repeated.

We are a kind cooperation Marisse, if you do as you are told, you will live a happy life here. If you do not, we will work with you until you do.

Thank you for your patience and understanding in this matter,

The signature was in those Chinese characters again. There was actually a whole additional page, but it too was written in what likely was Chinese.

Inconvenience? Inconvenience? She'd been taken from her home, her country, shipped all the way to the ass-end of Asia, given some sort of weird job, and worst of all... They were making her eat take-out! Each mouthful of food she took was labored, though she tried to make it as mercifully quick as possible - she abhorred fast food. Like drinking, it wasn't that she never indulged from time to time, but she always liked to maintain a healthy lifestyle and diet - enough to have earned her a half-decent tone of athleticism. Only in relative emergencies, like when she was taking a road trip or when she'd given blood, did she even consider going to a place that sold such... Greasy, processed mockeries of food. Slurping a noodle out of the box, she grimaces. It did taste good, but she knew better.

Though she knew she had plenty of ongoing mysteries that were due to be solved, the first problem she wanted to take care of was her stomach. The 'care package' she brought in had a few boxes in it, and being used to a spartan diet, she only _needed_to eat one. Of course, all it came with were chopsticks. Seeing as she never really had any desire to go to Asia, or any stateside restaurant where using them was an absolute necessity, she never quite picked up how to use them. Using her quite limited skills, she simply used them to lift bunches of coiled-up noodles a mere inch out of the box before slurping them up, the noisome and messy process splattering her mouth with sauce... Sauce she was delighted to dab up with the supplied napkins rather than lap off of herself. It was an embarrassment to have to resort to eating this, but the only other option seemed to be to starve.

As she ate, her mind wandered to her predicament - since she'd awoken, it was like she'd been staring at a puzzle with only its sides completed. She was in a room she never remembered entering, and that's all she knew. Pieces had begun to fall into her lap one by one, a torrent starting as soon as she dared look out the window. It was clear now that she had been kidnapped, though not by a lecherous bozo at some dive bar like she'd suspected. "Guess I graduated from roofies to chloroform." she muttered bitterly, grimacing. Judging by the letters that looked like malformed pieces of Chex Mix outside her window, she'd been spirited away to some country in Asia. For all she knew, it could've been anywhere northwest of India. She didn't have a good eye for the different symbols the local... Well, relatively local languages used, nor a good ear for the sound of them, so where she was in particular was anyone's guess.

It wasn't just that she'd been kidnapped, she'd been forcefully drafted into some sort of... Agency. JadeTech. Maybe she was in China? They were big on Jade, right...? She didn't know. What she did know is that she wanted nothing to do with this 'JadeTech'. For all she knew, they were some sort of kidnapping organization, because that's all she'd seen from them so far. Either that, or they just had harsh methods of recruitment. Marisse didn't know what was worse - the fact of the former possibility, or the implications of the latter.

By the time she'd had her fill, the box was nearly empty, and she wasn't about to dive into those last few noodles that were resting at the bottom. Pushing it aside on the desk, she picks up the letter again, reading over the second paragraph of the letter - the warning. They didn't want her to run? Of course they didn't. They expected her to, and threatening her would be the obvious deterrent. With a sneer, she slapped the paper back on the desk and stood up, grabbing one of the bottles of water. Another blush spread across her cheeks when she'd looked down to herself, her body so... Exposed, and with what she intended to to, to so many other people... She shut her eyes for a moment, looking up when she opened them again. She wouldn't go to the police... They'd come to her. Seeing a screaming, naked woman run out into the open oughta turn some heads, right? Taking a quick drink of the water before setting it down, she moves to the door, preparing herself to run.

Perhaps it was the haze of sleep that still slightly marred her sobriety, but her actions bled into a single blur as soon as she'd begun her great escape - open door, run down hallway, begin screaming. She didn't waste even an attosecond looking at anything along the hallway - all she needed to look at was the other end, whichever one held her escape route.

The first thing that seemed to work in her favor, or perhaps send alarms off had she known better, was that the door was still unlocked. There was no guard outside either. It was just a room, in a hallway, in a building in some land she did not recognize. She could do this, just one foot in front of the other and away she'd go. As she went bolting down the hallway, feeling the breeze against her nipples and exposed vagina, not something she was used to at that, she saw the stairway at the end of the hall was also unguarded. Her feet thudded against the floor loudly, but no one came. If anything every door in that place was dead silent now.

Flying towards the stairs she was greeted with the number 6. 6th floor? It had to be. She ran down the stairs, jumping the last two or three per flight as she tried to get out before anyone would notice. It was too good to be true...no, she was lucking out! She had called their bluff and they had folded. By the time she approached the first floor she had to stop from accidentally going too far, as it looked like there were multiple floors further below, each looking grimier than the last. No thanks.

The first floor was also just a hallway,but this one had a T intersection that lead to a front door. A grin broke across her face as she opened her mouth to start screaming for help. Marisse could taste that chemical aftertaste underneath whatever sauce was in that food. It would not be surprising if the vodka and water had similar properties as well. Maybe it was just really cheap? It had all settled heavily in her stomach and made her feel bloated from the saltiness of the cheap cuisine. But she could not let something so trivial stop her now, not yet. As she neared the door however, she heard a faint hissing noise.

Glancing up her eyes widened as she saw thick pinkish gas roll out from vents in the ceiling, quickly rolling over the room. She could still make it, she just had to hold...hold...just hold...

And then darkness.

It was hard to tell exactly how long she had been out of it. But when she woke up the sun was already setting. Was it even the same day? How would she know? Her head was killing her now. If yesterday was just the worst hangover she had ever experienced, today was something far beyond that. It was almost to the point where her head felt like it was physically taking damage.As her wits slowly came back to her and she remembered the gas, Marisse could not help but worry that the stuff might be causing her brain damage of some kind given her headache.

Rain pattered against the window off to the side of the room. Wait, what? Sitting up she looked over towards the window. Indeed, it had moved. Now the window was facing directly towards the window of another building only feet away, the other covered with cheap white curtains. Looking around she saw that the whole room as cheaper. This time the walls were covered in wallpaper that was slightly peeling about the edges, yellowed with mildew damage in spots. Had she looked more closely she would have noticed how the view outside was notably lower as well.

However it was hard think about such things through her headache. Whatever she decided to do she needed to start thinking about it n-

"Ji?ofù!" There was a pound at the door followed by the crinkling of plastic again and then footsteps leading away. At the sound of that voice her stomach gurgled and a pang of hunger ran through her body. Sitting up in bed it became clear that she was naked still, she could feel the sheets rubbing over her naked form rather acutely, almost sensuously. Her heart fluttered again, but this time in arousal. Was whatever they had knocked her out with messing with her head? This was not the time to be thinking about how she was completely exposed for anyone to see if they should come...in.

She had to think the perverse thought from her mind. As she stood up she heard several bones pop in her back, hips, and neck, as if they had been cramped while she was out. However, during the time she had spent under her bones had actually compacted slightly, trimming a couple of inches from her height. Similar changes to her bone structure had already started to take hold of her form. Her cheekbones had expanded slightly, as well as her brow having thickened slightly. Similarly her nose had widened as well, her nostrils flattened slightly while flaring to either side more, giving her a definitive Mongolian influence in her visage. Likewise her skin seemed more tan than before as well, but where her previous experience with tanning had been one of merely darkening her skin, her current fleshtone had a slightly more brown hue, giving it a yellow tint overall over her former pink. Her blonde hair swished about, dark roots now showing about the base of her scalp, nearly pitch in color.

What Marisse did not know what indeed, whatever had been given to her was affecting her brain as well as her body. Through means best left unexplained, her lingual center was starting to shift, information forming that was not there before. While it was just the flickers of the beginning, Marrise found herself more comfortable around Chinese Kanji, her brain starting to pick up on symbol patterns and the like. Unfortunately, these changes were not all positive, but rather in exchange, the first beginnings of her native language starting to deteriorate in the wake of her acquired information.

"Aaaaaw, god damn it, god damn it god damn it...!" she groaned out, groggy and ragged. Hunger, despair, rage, and self-hate boiled and frothed within her, almost forcing her to gag, her hands balling into fists and beating the cheap, creaking mattress below her.

"Fuck me! Fuck! Me!" she shouted, quickly silencing herself - she didn't want to send any mixed messages - she was being self-deprecating, not slutty. "Oh, what's the difference? Nobody can fucking understand me, anyway." She was pissed - at JadeTech, and at herself. While she still had her wits about her, for as much as they shone through the pain that was threatening to scatter her thoughts, she'd blown her chance at escape. "All because I couldn't fucking hold my breath." she spits.

Her legs once more swung around to the side of the mattress, kicking the sheets off of her as well. As the rest of her body repositioned, it felt like she was experiencing a bit of lag-time - like her head was a few seconds behind her body. Headrush didn't wait for her to get up this time, instead coming as soon as she sat up on the corner of the mattress, facing the door and cradling her hands in her head. "I fucked up... They don't need guards, they... They wired the place with something." Looking up and around, she grimaced. "And then they moved me, so I couldn't learn what they did to the last place. Assholes."

Her body sounded like a strand of firecrackers as she got up, joints popping with every subtle movement and leaving behind small, warm centers of pleasure, lasting only a scant moment. Propping herself against the wall, feeling the wallpaper shift beneath her fingers, her eyes were still down - on herself. How dark her skin had gotten wasn't something she was about to miss... Nor was it something she'd properly pick up on. "Shitty lighting." she mumbles, looking up at the yellowish ceiling. "Shitty ceiling. Shitty walls, shitty bed, shitty place. Shitty people." she rants, if only to hear something other than the rhythmic pounding of her head.

Marisse moves to the door first, opening it up slowly and peering down the hallway - seeing much what she'd expected. A dingier, if similar hall to the one she'd first run down. She wasn't done trying to get out of this crazy place just yet... But she wasn't going to barge out the door like last time. Instead, she grabbed the plastic bag and retreated inside, plopping down at her 'new' desk. "Just you wait, assholes." she mumbles, dropping it on the desk before her and pulling everything out bit-by-bit. "I'm gonna bring hell down on you."

Looking to the takeout boxes, she smiled dimly. "After dinner." The one she delved into was full of some sort of rice covered with sauce, forcing her to eat slowly - using the still-fused chopsticks as a makeshift spoon rather than using them properly. Everything that was in the last bag, to her knowledge, was in this one. The headset, food, water, pill bottle, cigarettes, and booze. As she ate, she moved the pill bottle closer to her, reading the labels to see if she'd be able to make out any important info - names, locations, what it even was. All she was able to figure out was that it had essentially the same stuff as aspirin, with a few other things she didn't recognize. They must know she'd have a helluva headache from the drugs. "How thoughtful." she grumbles.

She gulps down a pair of the pills with a mouthful of water, hissing as they go down - they'd at least clear her head up a little. Enough so that she'd feel like she wasn't in a headlock, she hoped. Rather than try anything else for now, she finishes up her box of food and rises again, moving into the bathroom. Though it was dingy, she was able to find a mirror that was... Functional enough to give her a decent look at herself. Thankfully, she didn't look like she'd felt. At least, as bad as she felt.

"Hm?" she thrums, tilting her head toward the mirror. "Black...? Did they mark me or something?" she muses, rubbing her scalp with one finger. To her dismay, nothing rubbed off on it. "Assholes." she mumbles, patting her cheeks and trying to smile. Her face looked... Odd, though she couldn't place just what was wrong with it. It wasn't like she was looking at a stranger in the mirror, but it wasn't like looking at herself either. It was like looking at someone that someone else would mistake for her. "Aaagh..." Frustrated, she pats her cheeks and turns away, cursing out the mirror as she moves back to her room.

Another note had appeared with this bag, just like the last one. She didn't open it just yet, mostly because she expected that it'd say the same thing as the last note, maybe with a paragraph chewing her out for running. Thinking on this, she thought to the computer it'd mentioned - that some more 'instructions' would be on it. Maybe if she played along with them, they'd relax security on her? Grabbing the headset, she fumbled with the inputs and looked around for where to plug them in the computer and where to power it up - even if she wasn't going to work immediately, she wanted to find out what they wanted from her and who the hell they were.

It was surprising how natural it felt to without clothes after two bouts of consciousness without wearing any. A small part of her actually found it kind of liberating. An ironic thought considering her situation of course, but still there nonetheless.As she sat there in front of the desk she felt the stubble of her own pubic hair about her crotch, corasely rubbing between her legs and making her feel...antsy, similar darkened areas showing up under her arms as well, unlike the former blonde curls. How long had she been out exactly? It was so hard to tell time...

Like the last meal, the food settled heavily in her stomach, making her feel bloated again. Unlike "yesterday" where there was soft murmuring in the walls from time to time, the noise here was a bit more robust. Periodically she could hear someone flushing a toilet, or yelling something in some foreign language.

Popping the headset into the audio jack of the computer, she was greeted with the electrical hum of the current running through it. It felt like it vibrating her very skull like a tuning fork, but it was manageable. The laptop itself was pretty nice, though the casing was a bit scuffed. Had the one in the last room been like that? It was hard to recall, but not that it mattered. When she opened the lip the screen popped on, showing a fairly barren computer, with a bunch of programs she did not even recognize. Then she noticed something off about the desktop.

In place of some quaint image of a beach or a stock photo of a happy family, was just a white box with black borders. In the box were two paragraphs in text, one in English, the other in Kanji.

"Dear ???????,

Here are your work duties:

_ Use provided programs to:_

-Access online services and activate the gold revenue program inside the chat program.

-Hack Emails and Data Registries and then send revenue messages to said accounts.

-Access Skype and Facebook registries and contact users by text, voice, and video to acquire proper information for the bank account access programs.

_ -For text, use premade program._

_ -In some situations verbal communication might be necessary to show you are not an automated user. Conditions and terms of your employment here apply._

_ -If video chat is necessary, use intercom to request clothing._

Your job is simple. Follow the guidelines above and reach your daily quota, provided in your daily greeting from our supply package, and upon reaching that goal, you are free to relax for the rest of the day. Failure to meet your quote by 5PM will result in measured response.

Using this computer for any other means than for work or personal leisure and entertainment will result in swift and measured response according to the scope and scale of your breach. These activities include:

_ _ -Contacting the authorities

_ -Contacting known relatives and friends_

_ -Contacting peers connected to your past in any shape or form._

_ -Attempting to educate yourself._

_ -Revealing your location or previous identity in any way, shape, or form._

_ _

Finally, we encourage you to enjoy your time here. As long as you meet your quota and do not violate the rules above or conveyed elsewhere, you may use your computer however you like.

Sincerely, and with appreciation,

JadeTech.

The next paragraph of information was illegible, at least to her. Just use the programs and follow the rules and she would be fine, assuming it was true and nothing in the text below said otherwise. Looking in the bag, there was indeed a letter, but the English portion was the same as before. Was the quota written in Chinese?! Maybe if she managed to just do a lot she would be fine. She just would need to finesse a little bit, at least she could type well, all she needed was...

The keyboard was in Kanji...

"God damn it!" she shouted, her hands coming down upon her desk with a 'thud'.

"How the hell do they expect me to work if I can't read the goddamn keyboard!?" She was practically seeing red - there was no way for her to figure out what they keys said, and she had no idea if it was even arranged like the keyboards she was used to... Not that it'd help her much, she was never around keyboards often enough to perfectly memorize what they read.

Slumping back in her chair and clutching her head, she moans "And I can't even write Chinese." It was... Occurring to her that this language was Chinese. She'd begun to pick up a few of its more obvious features, what... Distinguished it, though none of it made any sense to her. Dropping her hands, she looks back to the computer, at the damn wallpaper. She couldn't educate herself? On what? Was that just a jab - did they know she couldn't read any of this? Why would they want to keep her from learning it if they wanted her to work for them?

Her fist reared up, ready to hilt itself in the computer screen... But she stops herself before she makes that mistake, not only thinking of what harm might come to her, but what her kidnappers might do. "Pff, what _can_they do? Keep moving me?" she muses, looking around. So what if she could keep getting moved - they'll probably replace the computer if she breaks it, but they couldn't do jack if she tried to report them to the authorities over the web... Oh, wait...

"They've got hackers." she blurted out flatly, sighing afterward. "Son of a... Ugh!" Stamping her foot, she glared at the computer again, shaking her head. "If they're anything like what they want me to be like, there's a fat chance I'll be able to get anything out." Without a little subtlety, she silently adds.

Well, she didn't want to seem too suspicious - she didn't want them to need to keep an eye on her all the time, and if she refused to at least try to work, she wagered they'd pay her some mind. Marisse sighs. "At least the mouse is universal." she mumbles, dragging it across the screen and testing it out. Finding it in proper order, she rolls it over to some of the odd programs, opening them up just to figure out what they do, occasionally reaching over for a drink of water. The sounds bleeding through the walls around her weren't like any other ambiance - it wasn't background noise that'd simply fade into the background with time. It was a constant din that was always reaching into her ears, bugging her and nagging at her - that she couldn't understand it made it fall from a mere annoyance to a something more threatening, something she feared, because she didn't know if it was casual conversation or notes on her performance.

Her eyes rolled over to the vodka, looking at it wistfully. She wanted something to... Help her escape from this place for a while, but she had absolutely no doubts that it'd do more harm than good. With an exasperated groan she shoved it and the cigarettes beside it over to the very edge of the desk to get them out of her field of view, removing them as a temptation. Well, the cigarettes not so much - she wasn't a smoker, and had no plans to start, even in a situation as stressful as this.

Every so often a thump would come up from the floor below as something hit it. A muffled sound of someone making noises made itself known shortly after, though it was hard for Marisse to tell what exactly was going on. Were there other people trapped here too? There had to be given all the hallways. But if so, why weren't people screaming for help?

Maybe they had figured out there was no hope.

No! That was an unacceptable situation. But what was she to do about it? That vodka continued to look appealing, almost like itself was an escape, even if it was only a symbolic doorway out of here. Unaware that whatever was happening to her was affecting the very anatomy of her brain, slowly expanding the addictive centers and regions that dictated a propensity for compulsive and binging themed behaviors, it did not occur to her that the bottle looked more tempting than usual because of something they were doing to her.

At least her headache was fading slightly. Or maybe she had just gotten used to it. It was a bit hard to tell, the sensation almost like ringing ears in a sense. What she did not know was that all the items inside the room were working on her in subtle, but increasingly more potent ways, each moving her body and mind in a general direction but individually having unique focuses that allowed her to eventually form her own identity in this new existence, even if it had nothing to do with her old one.

Unlike the usual headaches which usually are a result of vascular dilation and constriction in the brain, there was something more going on. Whatever chemical wonder working through her body had essentially washed over the surface of her brain, soaking into it in a solid coat almost like someone staining hardwood floors. It was both thorough and sealing, making all of her mental changes permanent and progressive with a ratcheting effect. She could change further, but never backwards.

As such the process left her feeling somewhat groggy and drugged, but it was hard to notice given that she was just knocked out for god knows how long. If she was going to be forced to use the computer, she would need to figure out some way to appease them in the short run. Surely they would not punish her for not being able to understand a language she did not know right? They had to know she was a foreigner. The most Chinese she ever heard before in person were a bunch of Chinese chefs in the back of a take out China Star while she was waiting for food back in college.

Still, she found that when she right clicked the screen, the prompts were in English. Maybe she could do it all by mouse? One of the programs, labeled in Kanji, had an icon of a gold coin with some Yuan symbols behind it, the word just coming to mind, unknowingly at the cost of easily grasping for the English equivalent, the flickers of that verbal deterioration sparking ever so subtly from those pills. The next one was of a picture of an envelope with a black fedora on top of it. Beneath those were the desktop icons for Skype, but with Chinese characters under it, and Facebook. When she clicked the Windows Start button she was greeted with a long slew of games, all of them in Kanji of course. She could make out a few icons just from popular culture, World of Warcraft, Farmville, and a few others. But the rest all escaped her.

It felt to her like someone was wrapping a hand around her brain, squeezing and locking up her thoughts and making each attempt at thinking, or even doing nothing, hurt as bad as banging her head against a wall. Not like she wouldn't like to do that, at this point in time. The backwards logic of this freaky organization was driving her up a wall.

"Oh, hey, let's kidnap a girl who doesn't know a lick of Chinese. Or Japanese, or any language other than English." she groaned, her intermittent clicking being the only sound in the room that wasn't being generated by her... Neighbors, she supposed. Whoever they were - voluntary occupants or otherwise. Maybe she'd get to socialize with them eventually...? No, she didn't think so. Not when they wanted her to be fucking rooted to this computer.

Marisse's lips briefly curled into a smile, her head shaking. "Maybe their kidnappers just messed up and grabbed the wrong Marisse." she muses, finding a small bit of humor in this dark situation. "And they realized it halfway through, but decided to roll with it. Heh, I hope someone's getting fired because of me." Her hands once more run through her hair, smoothing it out and working as a makeshift comb to clear up the few kinks that her drugged slumber had birthed. Once they were done, they rested on her head for a moment, and she grinned, thankful that her headache was relaxing somewhat. She didn't know if it was because the pills kicked yet or what. One part of her hoped that this was the case, because if it was, she'd be blowing through that bottle just to get her head straight.

She takes a long drink of water and sighs. Whatever the case was, she knew she had to get to 'work', or at least try to figure out what the applications did. Her first, most obvious target was the coin.

Running her hands through her hair had left a bit of a greasy feel on her fingers, reminding her that she had not showered, or even cleaned up at all since she had arrived in this place. Going without being seen by anyone must have made her slack off a bit. That or being kidnapped, but who knows. The thought made her chuckle softly and idly wonder if she was starting to lose if it she was finding humor in this serious of a situation. In the least, no one had seemed to have actually harmed her. And despite not having any clothes, she had not been raped or anything like that either.

It was all in the little things.

Of course, in the poorly lit room she did not see that her hair was actually quite greasy, whatever had been happening to her hair having made it extremely oily and prone to being a thicket of a rats nest if she did not take care of it every day. However, in combination with this, whatever was saturating her brain was also eating at her frontal lobe and slowly beginning the process of deteriorating her capacity for forethought, patience, and self restraint, let alone discipline and care for proper routine. All of it was just beginning, but such things were destined to snowball substantially as time went on. This was merely the sneeze that would initiate the avalanche.

Clicking on the coin icon a large window popped up reminiscent of the command prompt screen that always was too intimidating for her to mess with whenever it popped up back on her home computer. After a moment a bunch of Kanji appeared in the black box, flooding the window as it started scrolling further and further down until finally ending in a blinking cursor.

Marisse looked down at the keyboard, unsure what to type. But before she could do anything the program seemed to kick itself into second gear, another window opening up. This one looked like a game. While the subtext was in Kanji the title was in the Roman Alphabet. "Aion." She had vaguely heard of such a game somewhere before. A login prompt came up and the black box in the other window sputtered out more Kanji before the prompt filled itself out and logged her in to show a full character roster, each named random garbage like "swefw" or "aztsgll." She clicked one tentatively and watched as the game booted up.

English! The game was in English!

A flutter ran through her heart. Maybe she could contact someone and ask for help, maybe get them to call the police and...She paused. The keyboard was still in stupid Chinese letters, how the hell was she supposed to type anything? She didn't even know how to move!

However the program running in the background seemed to do almost all of the work. It was not long before she noticed her character "speaking," both with a speech bubble and in the chat box below.

"<<<<<BUY 5.99USD 4 12000PLATNUM, BYE NOW JADETECH.CN.>>>>>

<<<<<BUY 5.99USD 4 12000PLATNUM, BYE NOW.JADETECH.CN.>>>>>

<<<<<BUY 5.99USD 4 12000PLATNUM, BYE NOW.JADETECH.CN.>>>>>

<<<<<BUY 5.99USD 4 12000PLATNUM, BYE NOW.JADETECH.CN.>>>>>

<<<<<BUY 5.99USD 4 12000PLATNUM, BYE NOW.JADETECH.CN.>>>>>..."

The phrase kept repeating itself, prompting others in the chat to curse her out. What was she even supposed to do anyway? Why kidnap someone to just run an automated program? A ping interrupted her thoughts. Glancing down at the chat box in the lower left corner of the game's window, she saw a message pop up.

"How safe is it?"

She looked over and saw it was a "whisper." But how was she going to reply? Another ping.

"I won't get banned for this will I?"

All the while her character continued to spew the message. Maybe if she hit the keyboard she could figure out what key meant what for English? Perhaps it was worth a shot.

"Uh."

Looking over the keyboard, she found herself at a complete and utter loss. She didn't even know where to begin typing, a single digit hovering over the keys tentatively.

"Uh..."

Besides, did she even _want_to respond to these people? She never played many games herself, but it didn't take a genius to figure out that randomly repeating offers in the format 'her' character was providing weren't exactly legit, especially when real money was brought into the equation. No, no, they didn't just want her to just hang around and... Idle, was it? They probably wanted her to talk to people, so that they could buy whatever the hell this platinum they were selling was.

"Uuuuuh..."

Her short nails scratch at her dry scalp, through her slightly-greasy hair. God, why did she even want to help these people that kidnapped her? So what, she could ignore these people - who knows what the hell JadeTech would do to these people to get their money, let alone their offer... Something in her doubted they'd just provide whatever they were supposed to without any strings attached.

Biting her lip, she throws her hands up and collapses back into her chair, muttering "Fuck it. Fuck 'em. They've got a link to... Whatever they're offering, I've done my job."

Grabbing her water, she takes another sip before casting another speculative glance at the keyboard, her gaze sticking on the foreign symbol it lands on and her brow furrowing.

"No..." she mumbles. "No, just saying 'Fuck 'em' won't get me anywhere."

With a deep sigh, she leans over the keyboard again and moving her hand toward the highest, leftmost key. In the day and age she lived in, she couldn't say she'd never used a computer before, not so much that she didn't have rudimentary memory of how it was structured, both practical and muscle memory.

"Alright... They're called 'QWERTY' keyboards, right? That means... This is the function bar... These are numbers... And these are the letters." she mumbles to herself, running her finger lightly over the first, second, and third rows of keys respectively. "Q, W, E, R, T, Y." she chimes, running over the second-through-seventh keys.

A stormy look crosses over her face, dark shadows cast across it by the illumination from the monitor. "Unless it's DVORAK. Those are things. And... Aw, fuck, Chinese doesn't work like that..."

Blankly, she stares at the monitor for a moment.

"Fuck 'em."

With that, she reclines in her seat again, idly scratching under her arm. Looking around the game's UI, she looks for a clock or any method to tell what time it was - regardless of if she had twelve hours or twelve minutes until her 'deadline', she knew it was going to feel like an eternity.

The sounds coming from the other rooms still made their way through the thin walls periodically, stripping her of her sense of total privacy in the aspect of seclusion. But there was a certain anonymity about being part of what could be an entire building of captives that was oddly comforting. Well, perhaps comforting was not the right word. It was more like there was a sense of being able to get through this if she was not the only one. Or was that it? The more she thought about it, taking another sip of that water, the more she realized something.

She was no longer scared.

Concerned, angry, of course, but mostly if she were to articulate her current state it would be annoyed, maybe even slightly apathetic. It was like the situation was just not quite as interesting, which was absurd intellectually, this whole thing should be driving her up the walls. Except it did not. In reality, the chemical cocktail/bombardment that was working over her was already working at her personality and patience, but also her energy. As such, there was a certain lethargy that had begun working over her, further eating away at her patience since things seemed to be more of a hassle than before, but more importantly, it was blunting the edge of the circumstances and making it easier for her to slip up on her escape plans and just give up "for now."

Scratching under her arm again, she found that she was a bit itchy all over. Going without bathing for at least a couple of days, if not more, could do that to a person. Without any clothes on Marisse could felt the stubble of her underarm hair growing back in, though she did not see how it was darkened to the same shade as her roots. It was hard to tell at this stage, but the shadowed area that was developing about the base of her armpit was substantially larger as well as denser, tapering off out towards her arm and down towards her side. It did not matter though, who the hell was going to see her? Aside from the guy that left her food, she was alone effectively.

The screen in front of her continued to show her character blaring the repeated text again and again and again in an unending stream of spam. She saw a couple people send her messages. One looked like another inquiry but most appeared to be threats, or at least it seemed that way. It was hard to tell since her character would just spam again and the chat log would spiral upwards and the private messages would disappear. Still, she saw enough of them to feel a pang of anger. She was still a person! Behind a spam bot or not, death threats were not called for, and she was the victim here not them!

Marisse had to shake her head of the thought, her heart fluttering slightly from the agitation. She had to figure out something right? Maybe if she played with the buttons enough they-

The program cut out suddenly, the desktop note taking up the screen again. However this time there was a new window. It looked like a CMD prompt, not that she knew it by that name, but the text was all in kanji. It streamed down for a while before stopping. Then a small pinging noise came from the laptop speakers. Looking down at the corner of the screen she saw that the clock was flashing. It read 5PM. Marisse doubted if she had accomplished their goal, but what would they do about it? Kidnap her again?

At the very worse, they'd just gas her again to knock her out. Not that she had any abhorrence to sleeping about now - for having awoken in the late afternoon and having done nothing, she was feeling pretty beat. She didn't know if it was her sad resignation to this whole situation that made her tired, or if it was how tired she felt that was making her so apathetic... But, she supposed she couldn't really dwell on the fact she'd been kidnapped forever. She should be scared by all rights, but there was a point where quaking in fear becomes a hindrance. Marisse didn't know if she'd hit that breaking point yet, but supposed it was better that she wasn't trembling like a little girl at the thought of a monster in her closet.

Dejectedly, she curled her legs up into her chair and wrapped her arms around them, getting into a fetal position which she only really broke to scratch at herself.

The blinking clock on the screen annoyed her - all of her 'work' did. For people so set on their deadlines, they didn't give her a time to wake up, so she probably couldn't even have gotten her quota for the day done, whatever it was, even if she was actually trying! Or, did she even need to try?

"Aaaaagh." she grumbles, gripping her head. "I can't make heads or tails of any of this... Why? Why me...?"

They didn't even take into account how people would be pissed at her - she knew how ticked off people could get when spammers show up. She understood the rage, and beyond that, didn't expect anyone to ever think there's an enslaved American woman behind that spam.

Scratching at her crotch, she grimaces - it wasn't just her armpits that'd gotten a bit stubbly since... Well, whenever she'd arrived, it was her crotch too. She never really intended to... Show it off to many people, but she did like to keep a nice, smooth shave down there, and now that the thicker, prickly hairs had begun to sprout up, it was beginning to unnerve her.

Cleanliness, exercise, and eating semi-well were things that she always had the will to not only abide by, but to keep on doing - this made how weak-willed she was feeling even more concerning to her. She knew she shouldn't have eaten and hopped on the creepy computer before taking a shower, but... She just didn't feel she needed one, and it took an effort for her to think of how wrong that was.

Marisse sighs, looking to the greasy box of food again. Idly, she stares at it for a few moments before a small ray of sunlight parts the clouds covering her mind - she gets an idea. One that'd probably not work, but an idea nonetheless.

"Someone brings me a care package every day, right...?" she muses, beginning to tear a side off from the paper box, begrudgingly licking the sauce-laden side to a degree of cleanliness and plucking the metal handle from it. "So... They can get messages." Slowly, she uses the end of the metal to carve two words, in English of course, into the newly-cleaned side of the box: 'need razors'.

This brings a smile to her face - she didn't really know if they were actually going to listen or not, but this method gave her some form of communication with her captors. Slowly rising from the chair to account for the oncoming headrush, she moves over to the door, slipping her little note under it. With that, she takes out another one of the boxes, a full one this time, and sets it to the side, using the bag to store her trash.

Having seen no change from the blinking '5PM' on her screen, Marisse assumes that they've got to... Do some review on her work or something, and that gave her time to herself. Some time off the clock, she thought, smiling solemnly.

She moves to the conjoined bathroom and leans on the sink, looking into the mirror. One tentative finger traces across her face, in doing so building up a small bit of grease. Visibly wincing at this, she washes her hand off with plain water. God, did she get even worse over the course of the day? It was... Gross, just looking like this... But she supposed she did have the mercy of being alone. Now having a bit of time on her hands, she looks around the bathroom a bit more, trying to find the shower.

Periodically Marisse would scratch herself again, unaware that it was both a symptom of her mental changes as well as developing physical ones. It was a small sign, but notable nonetheless. She was scratching without thinking about how her actions conveyed herself. It was all part of the slow deterioration of her self awareness in her mind. Combined with her eroding mental filter for her thoughts, Marisse continued to slowly lose her ability to realise how she was conveying herself. Fortunately for her it was not like there was anyone to judge. Still, seeing her already growing her pubic hair reminded her that she was without amenities, and while unharmed, still very much a prisoner. She could feel the friction of her crotch stubble between her legs as she had walked towards the bathroom, the shadow of the emerging hair also significantly larger, darker, and denser than what had been her normal before. It made her feel outright primitive.

A grunt escaped Marisse's mouth as her facial structure shifted again as she splashed water on her face, mistaking the sensation for her jaw popping unexpectedly, her cheekbones growing even more pronounced as well as her brow line, making her look both increasingly less Caucasian in appearance as well as much less civilized. It was not much, if she had seen she might have mistaken it for swelling maybe from a food allergy, but it was indeed changing bone structure.

Similarly, her pores seemed bigger as well, Marisse being unaware that they were weeping much more oil than before, making her uncleanliness progress much quicker than a normal person, and in theory, progress to much more unsettling levels given enough time.

As she went about trying to clean herself she could hear thumping coming from the other side of the wall. Marisse stopped to listen for a moment, hoping maybe it would be some sort of code, but upon hearing what either were moans in Chinese, or someone just babbling, she let the hope drop. Figures she would be the only one that was not from this forsaken country-

She did not even notice the gas pump into the room until she was collapsing to the floor.

Over that "night" Marisse's dreams were filled with passion and perversions she did not even think were even hidden in her darkest of desires. It was such a blur though that by the time she woke up, all she was left with was a pounding heart and a sopping crotch. Sitting up with a start the young woman looked about.

Like last time this had happened, it seemed that she had been moved to another room. And, also like last time, it was worse off than before. The wallpaper was peeling about the corners and significant water damage now stained the ceiling, which was comprised of what looked to be cheap asbestos tiles. Her "desk" was now a folding table with a padded surface, similarly the chair was a cheap fold out as well.

The bed springs beneath her groaned as she swung her legs over the side of the bed and planted her feet onto the short cut, stained carpet. However, as she did so her eyes widened at the sight. Her legs now had short stubble dotting throughout her flesh. While not as thick as her armpits or pubic region, it was far more than she had ever been used to personally. How long was she out? The dark hairs belied what had felt, to her, to only having been one night of "sleep." Of course it was hard to say how much time had really passed for her given everything that was going on inside of her. Similarly, her toenails had lengthened notably as well, having turned a grungy shade of off -white and pushing pretty easily into the yellow spectrum, her nail polish entirely gone.

Outside the view was even worse, the brick wall now blocking the whole view. From the corner she could make out that she was only a couple floors from the street now, which looked to be littered with garbage and advertisement papers now that the smog was not obscuring it. But now that she was so low, she no longer could see the sky and check the time that way. In either case the lighting was terrible. Were she to step into the bathroom area, which now looked just to be a toilet and a sink with a scratched up mirror, she would have seen how the shadows in the room drew across her face, making her changing features all the more prominent.

"Ji?ofù!" Another slamming knock before thudding footsteps away.

The message! Had they seen it? No, how could they, she had not even slipped it out the door when she had been gassed...

Still, moving towards the front door, which creaked almost as loudly as her mattress as it opened, she found an even larger "care" package this time. Taking it to the bed she dumped the contents to find all the usual, except in larger quantities, as well as a few new things. The first thing she noticed was what looked to be a candy bar. The wrapping was brightly colored and the print all in Chinese of course, but it had that happy "candy" vibe to it she had grown familiar with as a child. The second was a single solitary alcohol wipe, as if to mock her lack of luxuries. It was still wrapped in its paper casing at least. The third was a small shaving kit. Pinned to it was her note, if not a bit smudged. Opening the kit she hopped to get something close to a razor, but felt her heart drop at the contents inside. Inside was what looked to be a pack of cigarettes, another set. However, upon opening the film she saw they were a deck of cards, specifically Chinese baseball cards. All of them were in terrible condition, the cellophane wrapping clearly being a redo job, and all the text had been penned over with kanji. On the side of the box there was a logo. "Razor Entertainment." Very funny...

Had a thick, well-seasoned emotional stew inside of her that was simply frothing; heated by the fires of the burning rage that'd been building since she opened her dry, slightly-reddened eyes. Between the fact that she was in a shittier room, knocked out before she even had the chance to shower, and given this terribly, bitter taunt from her captors, she was sufficiently pissed at this turn of events - well past the point of articulation.

"Ass!" she shouts down the hall before slamming the door, stomping into her room with her package... Before turning around to inspect the door, hoping she didn't break anything. Sure, she was always trapped in here, but she didn't want to be... Well, trapped even further due to her own stupidity. The frame of the door had cracked a little, but after opening and shutting it a little bit, she resolved that it was fine.

Her neighbors weren't exactly keen on it, she didn't think - they seemed to shout louder through the thin walls now, and that wasn't just because of how much more easily sound passed between them. If only due to how hard it was for her to pick out any one person speaking amongst the cacophony, she couldn't tell what they were saying, if anything about her at all... But it all sounded terribly negative.

With another heavy sigh, she sets down her package on the table, which creaks dangerously as she does. The chair does much the same as she eases herself down into it, holding her face in her hands... Holding her weird-feeling face in her hands. Her hands broke from their limp cup and pressed into her cheeks and chin, feeling around. "Hm?" she muses, cocking her head. Her face felt... Weird to her, but how, she was none the wiser. Her hands part with her after a series of weak slaps to her cheeks; a small attempt at waking herself up.

Even if she'd only been... Active, at least, for three days, she felt like she was falling into some sort of routine. Wake up, get package, rifle through it, eat, get gassed, rinse and repeat in a shittier room. At least she spiced it up with a few pills and a game last time... Which, she supposed she aught to get a headstart on today.

The nagging headache had returned - whatever JadeTech had done to her felt like they'd put a termite in her brain that was eating away at everything that was... Her; that was Marisse, but all she knew was that she had a migraine. With a mouthful of water and two pills, she attempted to solve it... Even if the pills only helped work to JadeTech's ends. None the wiser, she set it down and booted up her computer, feeling oddly... Driven, today. She had in mind the game she wanted to try out, and was determined to figure out the keyboard today.

Marisse wanted to say that she figured they only gassed her for doing a poor job yesterday, and she wanted all the time she could get to study the keyboard, take a shower, and figure this whole situation out... But she honestly didn't know why she was so determined today. Scratching her stubbly crotch, she digs through the bag for another box of food and the daily note, looking to see if it, or the one on her wallpaper, were any different today. Idly, she plugs her headset into the ports on her computer, throwing it around her neck.

Using the start menu, she tracks down the logo she'd clicked on yesterday - looking at the title in kanji. "Aion, huh?" she muses, trying to pick out the symbols that make up the word... Seeing as the title probably wouldn't be translated because it wasn't a word or sentence or anything, she figured she'd have a leg up if she learned those symbols, cross-referencing them with the keyboard. "Alright, alright, I... Got it, I think." she mumbles, going to the search bar and typing in the symbols she saw - a smile comes to her face as she sees the game pop up again.

A part of her felt... Proud she was able to remember that. Maybe if she got good enough she'd be able to translate her stuff online and send it off as actual English - now that they might not expect. Her smile drops. Or... They would, actually. Booting up the game again, she scans over the keyboard, feeling much more... Familiar as she digs hungrily into her food, no longer fumbling with her chopsticks... Well, not using them as clumsily as she'd had for the past few days, at least.

The package was more insulting than the last. All of this was like some sort of sadistic joke! So this was how they were going to punish her huh?

Now that she had been awake for a small bit, Marisse really began to feel the affects of being knocked out. Her entire body felt stiff and ached, unaware that she had lost a whole inch from her bones compressing. She looked a wreck at this point, the constant feed of chemicals in her system taking its toll on her body simply from all the trauma.Bags had now formed under her eyes, slight wrinkles having appeared about the sides of her eyelids while those bags formed a crease as she smiled or moved her mouth too much. In short, it made her look older. Her dark roots had taken over more of her hair, her style lost to the messiness and tangled knots that had begun developing. It looked like she had not had a haircut in a few weeks at this point.

Working on the computer, she did indeed feel more comfortable using the keyboard, unaware that the language reprogramming had advanced substantially inside of her brain during her last black out. Where before the kanji had just become somewhat more familiar, and patterns had begun to emerge, now Marisse could pick out certain symbols and begin pairing their meaning more intuitively. Of course, as the drugs worked by overwriting information, not creating new information, this meant that Marisse found herself stumbling slightly over her own English text. She could still read it, but a bit of that innate understanding was now forever lost, leaving her much less confident in what she saw in the game's chat as she tried to balance that with learning the game.

Aion was an easy game to figure out, or maybe it was just similar to the last and she had started with a bit of a boost. In either case the keyboard controls seemed to be independent of knowing kanji and more about memorizing location at least. her character was SFHETS5, a completely randomly generated creation that looked like the diarrhea of a statistical obsessed demon, a hodgepodge of random features. The same program worked it's magic as before, endlessly spewing out spam, again and again and again endlessly. It did not take her long to ignore it though.

Though she had more trouble ignoring all the rage she was getting in the general and private channels. Unlike the last game, this chat box seemed to be tabbed. Having been playing around with it she realized they were sorted by various topics. As such, she was able to see what people whispered to her or were saying about her in the other tabs.

None of it was good.

It pissed her off more than yesterday. Maybe it was the stress, or her achiness. In either case she did not have the patience for it. As she tried working out the keyboard she hit a couple keys at the same time and suddenly a pop up came up in the game.

"SETTING: ENGLISH."

Could it be? She pressed a key tentatively where she would have expected an E. An E appeared! While she would have to work from memory of a keyboard layout, she could type in English! As she lifted her arms up in victory a sudden crack of pain jolted through her head from the sudden movement, spiking her migraine and making the room spin. Marisse felt herself tip over and spill onto the floor as her inner ear seemed to temporarily give out.

Not that she would have been able to read it yet, but there was indeed a warning on that bottle of pills. "TAKE WITH FOOD." Or at least that was what the kanji would have said. When she had begun eating, she had also entered the game. She did not even realize she had stopped. Unfortunately the pills had a nasty accelerating effect when unaccompanied with food in the system. The migraine panged throughout her head like buckshot scattering throughout the inside of her skull. What she felt as pain was actually the sudden spontaneous "popping" of her brain cells, the exploding membranes increasing her cerebral pressure enough to cause the arteries running to her brain to dilate, hence migraine. It was the drug working haphazardly. What cells it ran over, the chemical either stripped away entirely, or rewrote over the following minutes, all of it focused on her lingual system. What cells were surviving had been reprogrammed entirely. Now, while her brain was far from converted at this point, what would have been a solid couple of weeks, if not more, of chemical reworking had just violently shot throughout her brain in this particular development, and would likely keep cascading in progression likely for the next couple of hours.

As she sat back up the pain was subsiding back to "default" levels, she got back in the chair, ready to finally get help.

Marisse clawed her way up from the ground much like a zombie from its grave - her hand shot up and grabbed onto the table, allowing her to drag herself up as the world gave its last few dying rotations, giving her a moderate sense of stability. It took a moment or two of sitting in her chair for her to realize that she wasn't being gassed again.

Though, even if it wasn't that that fucked her up... She had no way of knowing the true cause of her migraine, and as such she laid the blame on the most likely culprit - JadeTech. For all she knew, they planted a chip in her head and could knock her out at any moment! ... Well, maybe not that, or else they wouldn't use the gas. But, it was one hell of a coincidence that such a thing happened to her when she switched back to English. Was that just a warning? Were they going to do it again if she looked for help?

Marisse began to sweat, eyes wide as she stared at the screen. Were they going to... Kill her?

A guffaw escapes her lips. "Heh. Hehe... Hahahah..." she weakly laughed, just to rid herself of the tension, all the while holding her head. No, they wouldn't kill her - she hadn't done anything anyone else wouldn't have done, and they probably needed her to speak some English, anyway. They obviously needed her to speak Chinese too and didn't teach her that, but she didn't care about that at all.

If this plan of her works, if even one person takes her message seriously, she'll be home free! The risks were great, but the reward was greater. As her fingers dropped from her aching head and hovered over the keys, she... Drew a blank, at first. It took a bit more time... A bit more effort to think of what she was going to say, gears visibly turning as she thinks of what, by all means, should be a simple message. Though it was simply-worded and brief, she did manage to pull through... And create something comprehensible, at least.To each of the people that'd sent her private messages, even if they were the sickest of death threats or the kindest requests to stop, she sent a uniform message:

"Sorry. My name is Marisse Sanders from Texas, USA and I got kidnapped by people named JadeTech and put in China, I am serious, even if you think I joke please call police/FBI/CIA/anyone who can help and tell them about me please."

For as peculiar as her grammar was, she just couldn't think of any other way of wording her plea... And, she didn't exactly have time on her side. Like she's deflating, Marisse exhales and slumps into her chair. Now, she thinks, comes the hardest part. Praying it works, and playing along with JadeTech. If nobody saw her little stunt, then she wouldn't be the target of any suspicion if she was actually doing her job, right? To everyone that didn't tell her to stop, and whispered to her with serious inquiries, she bit her lip and replied to them - to her chagrin, positively.

"Yes, offers are good."

"No bans, just you give and you get."

"Sharing = caring, we care."

It made her sick to do this, but it was her only choice. Thankfully, she didn't seem to smell any gas yet... But honestly, and dejectedly, expected it.

The least she could do was get some food in her belly until then, she figured, and began to quickly force the remainder of the box's contents into her mouth, pausing only once to rap herself on the forehead.

"Goddamn it, forgot to shower."

That guffaw sounded wrong to her. Her voice, it was almost deeper, the sound something akin to an animal in many respects. It was not the laugh she was used to, but the situation was so absurd what was she to say she was not just losing it altogether? It felt like her head was a carbonated soda shaken up too much, and that her brain wanted to fizzle right out of her ears. But at least it was not a painful as much as a lingering pressure that almost reminded her of a sinus cold.

Responding to the "business" inquiries was frustrating, but it at least bought her time. If she was being monitored even if only periodically, by doing some work she increased the odds of her actions going undetected. As she continued to reply to the messages she heard occasional pings from the speakers. Glancing in the corner towards the clock, in remembrance of last time, she saw that instead of the clock flashing, a counter above it was pinging each time it rose by one. Were those people that bought her pitch?

As she danced between replying and finishing her meal she once again forgot about showering, instead getting engrossed with the game and chatting. However, in spite of remembering the keys pretty well, Marisse continued to stumble with her thoughts, words just not coming as quickly as she would like them to. Unaware that the medication was still accelerated for the time being, and having been working in general, the longer she actually kept at the computer, the worse she was going to get.

Unfortunately for her, accelerated or not, the true insidious nature of this drug program was revealed in how it progresses its pace. By working on the computer, constantly reading and trying to convey herself through writing and recollection, she was stimulating the parts of her brain that were necessary for such tasks. When a section of a brain is stimulated, blood flow to that part of the brain is increased, and as a result, more of that chemical cocktail flows across the surface membranes of the brain cells in those areas. So the more she engaged a part of her brain, the more quickly, and severely it would deteriorate. And that was the catch for Jadetech, once a worker caught on to their job, the job would do the work of changing them on their own.

By the time Marisse had finished her meal she had felt her jaw pop a couple of times, unaware that her chin had broadened slightly as well as her jawbone. Her teeth and eyes ached, but she took that as symptoms of the headache of course, unaware that those were beginning to change as well.

As she sat there at the computer time seemed to fly by, hours going by without Marisse even realizing she had not gotten out of the cheap chair. During all of that, the computer's heat venting out of the side ports were heating the room and the immediate area, making her sweaty and sticky, her slickened flesh feeling like greased chicken skin after a while. But every time she would think to get up and clean herself up, someone new would ask about her "offers." After a while she started to forget about asking for help at all.

And then, a private message appeared. This one different from the others.

"I am a moderator. This is a formal warning to stop spamming or else this account will be banned."

Another message, "I would have banned you outright as a bot, but we have received reports that you are claiming to be a kidnap victim. Do you require assistance? "

Marisse had her head down, away from the screen and buried in her second box of sauce-laden noodles, almost missing the message if not for the notification that came with it. When her eyes, which looked not only tired from how dazedly; boredly they looked at the screen, but from the bags beneath them and the shadows that the monitor cast across her face. However, a spark of life returned to her face and a noodle fell out of her mouth, splashing her chin and lips with sauce as she saw it.

Hastily moving her box of food, she scrambled to reply as fast as she, and what she presumed to be her tired mind could muster. Her fingers moved quickly as she typed the words out, the only delay coming between them - thinking of what word should come next, as if she wasn't used to the language.

"Heh, the Chinese must be... I must be getting used to it." she warbles, clearing her throat afterward in an attempt to clear the faint distortion from her voice. She didn't... Sound like herself.

In her rush, her message to the moderator came out oddly, but got her point well-enough across.

"Thank for reply. Name is Marisse Sanders, got kidnapped by people named JadeTech and got made to do this spam or I get punished. Don't know where I am, somewhere in China please send help fastly."

"Fastly?" she muses as she sends it off, praying he won't think she's messing with him. Somehow the word sounded weird, but... She couldn't think of anything better.

Biting her lip, she watches another few spam messages pop up and hover over her character...

Would another moderator step in and ban her before she got the chance to do anything? Would JadeTech shut down her account before that? Even if she does get banned, would JadeTech just provide another account to spam with?

Holding her head in her hands, she thinks of the possibilities, taking deep breaths... Oh, god are they gassing her? No, no, no, that's just anxiety... God, she actually had a chance to get out of here! Filled with energy for the first time in a while, she pries her tired eyes away from the screen and audibly peels her sweaty, nude ass off of the chair, the cheap plastic clinging to her supple flesh every inch of the way until it got too far.

Seemingly with every inch she moves from it, her joints pop, giving life to small pockets of warmth where tension had been moments ago. Stretching only gets rid of the few areas her movement hadn't before, leaving her only feeling warmer... Not like she wanted that, anyway. Idly she fans herself, trying to wipe some of the droplets of sweat from her face, feeling her stomach wrench as she runs a hand through her greasy hair, which clings to her cheeks and neck.

"Yeeugh." she murmurs, peeling her hair off of herself. "Today, I swear... A shower." she mumbles, trying to think of the words again. Even when she's talking...?

It wasn't just the sweat that bugged her - in fact, she wouldn't normally care about how drenched she was. It was the smell. The horrid, pungent saline scent that tinged every breath she took and only moved about the small room, her presence seeming to stain every corner of it with the foul odor. It'd not quite gotten to the point of making her eyes water... But smelling it at all was new for her, so used to long, hot, soapy showers to wash off any bit of sweat or dirt she may've amassed when she worked or worked out.

With baited breath she awaits the mod's response, sitting back down and taking her box of food again, eager to finish it, to put to rest stomach which has long-since been knotted with anxiety.

Some sauce spilled onto the keyboard from when she had turned her head away from eating to spot the message. All the while she tried to reply to the person Marisse did not even notice the similar globs of sauce and spices that had splattered over the swell of her bust and over her stomach. No, the more she typed the more her head seemed to hurt. It was like Jadetech was outright in her head, bopping her brain with a stick and saying, "no!" as one would to a dog that just piddled on the carpet.

With her mental filter eroding as she continued to stimulate her communication centers in her brain, she found herself mumbling out what she was trying to type every so often, and of course thinking out loud whenever she paused to think or note something. However, her voice was indeed warbled, deeper but with a sort of a melodic cadence to it, like the faint beginnings of a Chinese accent, the beginnings of enunciation issues slowly working into the root of her tongue's muscle memory, or more aptly, removing things from that memory.

Similarly her syntax was starting to erode away, as evident by her typing, but also in how she was starting to approach her English. As the familiarity with the language decayed in her mind, that natural feel that a sentence structure just felt "right" was washing away. That lack of confidence made her stumble over the keys a bit more.

The heat radiating off the computer had filled the room pretty quickly. It had become clear that the room was not ventilated, the temperature of the space having climbed throughout the time she had been on the computer. But now she had become acutely aware of her smell. While she was a human being, and she had experienced her own body odor before, this was something much more pungent. In reality, the combination of the food she had been eating, which was heavy in thick spices, and her greasiness that was making it a problem. She had been unclean for so long, all that oil, sweat, dead skin, and the like had coated over her flesh and the sweat was just turning it into a brine that evaporated in heavy plumes of reek, adding to the humidity of the room. She could almost taste her stink on her pallet, which, much to her disgust, made her stomach gurgle hungrily. It reminded her that she had not cleaned up pretty much at all at this point, her teeth felt grimy and coated as she ran her tongue over them, the things feeling more slablike. Although she thought that was from not brushing and not because they had indeed grown slightly, actually losing some of their formerly straight, orthodontically adjusted appearance as the real estate in her mouth became a smidge more precious. She really needed to-

Ping!

She looked at the screen, grinning. Butterflies flittered about her stomach, making her forget about the smell, or thinking about how her chair probably had her stench ingrained in the foam of the cushion at this point. No, if she could get help she could finally get out of here and never see this horrid place again!

"We do not take fraudulent claims lightly. Can you demonstrate your sincerity? Do you have any information that can prove what you are saying?

Marisse paused, why would they doubt her? Weren't they obligated to believe her outright? All they needed to do was call the police! These stupid Western idiots. No wonder people hated the US. She really had a mad forming. A..what? She was mad! Still, it was her only way out of here. She needed to be of patience.

However she seemed to be taking too long, and another message appeared.

"Due to the severity of your claims, please click the help icon and submit a formal ticket. Please title it 'Criminal Report Claim: Seeking Assistance' so that we may quickly respond to your needs. This way you can write out your situation without worrying about the chat limit. Our staff will respond to you via whisper for immediate response."

"Demonstrate... D-demonstrate my...?" she muses, an eyelid beginning to twitch as she squints at the screen. "Sin-seer-it-ee?" She sounds out the word before drawing back, shouting in rage. "Demonstrate sincerity!? What, fuck, fucking pig dog son of bitch!" she shouts, bringing her fist down from up high and stopping just short of slamming it into the table, stopping largely to keep it from collapsing in on itself.

Her voice was shrill and profanity was flowing from her mouth without regard for making sense of any of it, coming... Unnaturally broken, as if spoken by a child who'd only heard them in the forms that weren't appropriate for them to use when they wanted to use them.

When her anger was taken down to a low simmer, her face red and breast heaving with breath, forcefully clicked on the help icon, copying and pasting the mod's suggested title for it, largely because she wasn't sure if she'd be able to remember that much or not... Her abundance of sleep, rage, and the drugs that must still be working their way out of her system hadn't done well for her articulation, she reasoned. But, after all, she didn't need to write like an English major just to say she's been kidnapped, which is something nobody should take lightly. After all, she could just be a child who couldn't type well for all they knew.

Though she tries her best to collect herself, it's hard - impossible, actually. The nagging headache had only gotten worse with the angrier she'd gotten, causing her to groan and fumble for the bottle of pills. Another two ought to get her to her deadline. Gulping them down with the last of her water, she sets to writing out her 'support ticket'.

Her frustration continues to froth and bubble as she comes up short for words - though, she tries to be understanding. They need information - she's sure there's always going to be some asshole out there in the west who'll submit a kidnapping claim for fun an-... Wait, how did she think of them? How did she think of her home?

"Western?" she mumbles, pausing for a moment. Sure, it was... Certainly one term for the world outside of Asia, but she never used it before. It... Thinking on it, it seemed to lump such a large portion of the world into one group, and she couldn't do that. A dry chuckle escapes her. "There are more than one asshole out there." she says, clucking her tongue and musing over how she phrased that. "And I'm one of them." she reminds herself. Despite her words, she feels an odd... Disconnect. A distance between both her words and the truth, and herself and her home. It wasn't just a feeling of her being in a foreign land, but like she was lying to herself to remind herself of her home. Part of her felt sick.

"Can't wait... Until I'm back in... The US." she says, forcing a smile through her frustration, forcing her words as well. These guys needed information, and they were getting it.

When all was said and done, she grimaced as she looked over what she'd written. It felt... Weird. Alien, both like it didn't look how it was supposed to, and that it didn't belong at all.

"to help people,

_ hear: name = marisse sanders; home = USA, texas, fort worth. born = 1993-3-14. one day woke up in room in china, see signs in chinese out window. tried run but take back. wake up in new place still china. told play game to say thing to get money by people name JadeTech. say do bad thing to me if not do thing. so do thing. i not do thing good and wake up new place still china nother time. place get badder every wake up time. so do thing and talk you, you say help me, you say need in form a t ion i give all i know. i know no more. tell mom/sister i alive. pls send help i dont know if JadeTech will take to badder place now dont know what happen time is small._

pls help pls"

"Ah, there we go." she proudly says, capitalizing her name. That cleared up a few of her worries about its look. With that, she sends it off, looking at the clock down on the bottom of the screen. She... Got up early, didn't she? And, it wasn't long before the mods came and started talking to her... So it couldn't be that long until the deadline, right? The mods... Wouldn't take that long to respond to something this serious, right?

The seriousness of the situation was making itself known again as Marisse continued to struggle to articulate herself in the very language she had known her whole life. For crying out loud she had even gotten her family to get her an opt out pass for high school French! Now she was having trouble reading a fucking message! The sense from this made madness in her!

Her hands clenched into fists as she tried to calm herself down. The sensation of being unable to communicate was a vulnerable and terrifying experience in many respects. She had no control over the situation, it was almost akin to being a child once more, lost in a world that no longer made sense. Unfortunately, the more she tried to fight the mental block, the worse it would end up for her. After all, she was focusing as hard as she could on articulating herself, pouring her mental energy into the task and sending the drugs coursing through her system to that part of her brain like iron shavings to a magnetized rod, letting them cling, spike, and grow about the source and take over bit by bit.

However, out of all the things she could have done about the situation, she wound up making if not the worst choice, at least one of the top three worst. By taking those pills she had only added more fuel to the chemical fire burning in her brain and body. That stiffness in her joints had returned again, unaware that her body's bone structure was still altering. The medicine did alleviate some of the pain, since she did have food in her this time, but this was more of the medication than she had ever taken in a single day, not even a day, but an afternoon.

As she typed out her "formal" response, she felt her stomach churn, those butterflies multiplying as she fumbled over every word and sentence structure, making her feel both stupid and confused. Even spelling was starting to escape her, as some of the words needed to be sounded out then spelled phonetically a couple of times before she could correct herself. But, every time she did, there was a hollowness in it, like she was winging language lessons that she had not pulled out of her hat since she was in high school, a rustiness that did not quite scrape off as much as one tried to push forward and hope that the overall context made more sense than the statement to statement syntax.

In some respects, the frustration she was experiencing also fueled this emerging stereotype about Americans and Western thinking, as if bashing on the West would justify not being good at English because it's not a "worthy" subject. That seed did indeed seem to have wormed its way into her brain, a certain elitism and xenophobia beginning to bud in her mind, both as a defense mechanism and a philosophical approach.

Still, she had sent it. Now all she needed to do was wait for them to read it and send help before that gas does anything else to her. She clicked around in the game a couple of times, trying to distract herself while all the while being acutely aware of each passing minute. She felt that at any moment she could end up getting gassed, although nothing of the sort had happened yet.

Part of her began to wonder why that was. They had gassed her for all sorts of reasons. Surely they had to be monitoring her work since last time 5PM hit they had punished her pretty quickly. Were they watching her now? Did they know what she was doing? Or were they only checking at five? Marisse could hear what clearly was the sounds of sex in the room adjacent to the wall the table was pushed against. The walls were definitely thinner in this part of the building. For a moment she felt a pang of irritation, but then it was replaced with something new.

The sounds of that pleasure were almost arousing.

She could feel her loins stir at the realization, her tongue darting out to glaze over her lips as her legs pressed together before she noticed what she was doing. No! This was not the time! Time small time not now! Marisse shook her head of the thoughts and tried to ignore the noises. After what seemed like an agonizing amount of time she heard the chirp of the whisper tab updating.

"Dear account holder #8279321, you are hereby banned due to violation of fraudulent use of monetary schemes, abuse of the communications network, and for perjury upon moderator examination of the previously mentioned offenses. You may appeal this decision in ninety days."

A couple minutes after that the game suddenly logged her out. When she tried logging back in, she just got an error. "Account suspended, please contact administrator to reinstate permission."

The pings in the bottom corner of the screen stopped as well. Above the clock the number 48/50 showed. Did she need to reach 50 in order to meet her quota? The clock read 4:47.

"No."

Marisse barely noticed the clock at the bottom of the screen - only the sound of silence; the lack of pinging brought her attention to it, and even then it was fleeting. Her prime concern, her ticket out of here and back to the US... It had failed. All she could do was stare at the error message set before the login screen in disbelief - she flat-out didn't believe it. Those people, regardless if they were smart, stupid, kind, assholes... They wouldn't take her pleas lightly enough to ignore them.

"N-no..."

They wouldn't! Sure, she might not've written those assholes a whole fucking essay, but all she'd said was the truth! There wasn't anything they wouldn't, or couldn't believe in it! Unless...

"No!" she shouts, slapping her hands against the corners of the table, tears welling in her eyes.

"Was it JadeTech? Did they have contact with the moderators? Were they the ones that banned her so she couldn't get a response? Did they alter what her message said so the mods would think that it looked like a spam response?

"No, no, no!" she cries shoving off from her chair and stomping at the ground, so full of rage and despair she couldn't help but vent it, doing so like a child having a temper-tantrum, futilely believing that it'd make some sort of change... But all it did was evoke a few plaintive cries from the rooms around her. The one where she could hear people fucking didn't seem to have any problem, though.

"Dumb, pig fuck foreign asshole! No idea what happens here! No idea, so stupid fuck!" she shrilly shouts stepping away from the computer, shaking and weeping. With that... With that game gone, there wasn't any hope for her to restart her escape attempts. At least, there wasn't anything she could do today. With a look of malice on her face, she shut down the game and double-clicked on the large, golden 'W' she saw in her start menu.

With as familiar as she'd grown with the keyboard, she could, with some effort, read 'Warcraft' as one of the words. The others she presumed were 'World of', but the Chinese words for them.

The very least she could do was set up shop again in this new game... Watching her character, some sort of burly... Animal thing with a name that looked like a jumble of letters, begin to slowly rattle off another message with a link to JadeTech. Presuming that those assholes weren't behind her getting shut down on Aion, they'd want to see her hit those fifty pings... And with only nine minutes left, after her little outburst, she could only pray for them to roll in. She sulked over her keyboard, eyes reddened and cheeks moist with tears, holding her head in her hands sadly.

"Please." she sighs. "Just... Give me this."

It was like she had been betrayed by her own people. The game was clearly an American version based on the chat, or at least English or something of the sort. And yet, no one took her seriously. Well, that was not quite right. Those that wanted to get in game currency for themselves sure seemed to take her seriously. Those people were more than responsive apparently. Maybe Western culture was based in selfish needs after all.

Part of her wanted her to dissuade herself like before, to shake her head of the thoughts and focus on the positive and the potential avenues of escape, but a growing part of her just wanted to stop with all the mental exertion and no go against what felt to be more and more of a gut instinct about these people. Instead, she felt like it would just be better to use what opportunity she had and just say fuck all to anyone else. No wonder spammers did so well, they just capitalized on what these people wanted.

The World of Warcraft logo was easy to recognize, it was pretty mainstream after all at this point. Not that she knew much about it. The game seemed to run through some sort of hub, "battle.net," that boasted excellent security according to its subtitle. Well weren't they the arrogant ones?

Once her character had gotten going the threats flooded in. Some people even outright starting spamming her back. It did not matter though, she knew that came with the territory. However, a few pings came in after a couple of moments, along with some messages asking for details, proof, and interestingly enough, something called "bot checks."

While this was going on Marisse did notice that there was also a report button on the site, this one a bit more obvious than Aion's. To an extent, there was always trying again, but it was also getting late. Besides, if they were watching her, pushing the limits even further could provoke her captors needlessly when she might in reality need to be at this for weeks, if not months. That and she also-

Ping ping ping.

The clock at the bottom of the screen flashed, as well as the fraction above it. Did she really make it? She made it! What did that mean? Was she free to go without any disturbance for the night? The game in front of her did not close. In fact, it looked like the following day's quota fraction had opened up, the thing slowly filling following periodic pings. It seemed like she could get a head start if she really wanted to, but at the same time she could use a break. Wait, a break from what?

Marisse had to recompose herself. Did she really think she had accomplished much? Well, of course she had, this would make it the first day without any major incident wouldn't it? That had to be of value right? However her thoughts were interrupted by a sudden pounding on the door.

"Ji?nglì!" The familiar voice of the delivery man shouted from the other side of the cheap door, prompting hoots and cries from the adjacent walls. Opening the door, she saw not a cheap plastic bag, but rather what looked to be a small hat box. Bringing it inside she popped the lid off and saw a note, this time entirely in Kanji, as well as a couple of items. It was the first one that grabbed her attention the most though.

A pair of white cotton panties, still sealed in what appeared to be individual packaging.

Marisse had to make a double-take as she looked at the pair of panties in her hand, the crisp packaging crinkling lightly in her hand. It... Almost seemed too good to be true - they were actually rewarding her? Giving her something more than the bare necessities she needed to survive?

Bringing the pair of panties back to her swampy, moist chair, she places the small box on the desk beside her trash bag... She was running out of room, just a little. Her eyes never left the pristine white of the raiment, and when she sat down, she gave a long sigh of relief. Whether she knew it or not - something inside of her clicked. Her entire body was awash in a feeling of relief - by no means abating the rage she still felt for how she'd failed, but... Made her feel like she wasn't in imiment danger. JadeTech... They weren't going to gas her, move her into a shittier room, or anything... And they were going to do that because she didn't mess up. As with anyone, she looked for confirmation and reward for her work, no matter how easy or hard it'd been... And with that, she'd want to work simply for these rewards.

"Panties, huh?" she muses, a smile growing on her face. "I'll put 'em on... After my shower."

Marisse smiled and set the pack of underwear back in the box, making her character move just a little to show some form of activity, that there was someone on the other end. A ping brought her attention to the small counter - she'd already gotten one of her fifty hits. So, she was already working towards tomorrow's goal... What was the harm in trying to get it already?

"I mean... I finish my work now, I go to sleep at a good time, I get tomorrow to myself." she resolves, a smile coming to her lips. Getting into a schedule... Getting a hang of this new life of hers would be good. If she got to know the routine of everything, she'd be able to exploit it... And, what would a few days of playing to their end do? It'd give her time off of their radar - to take her out of the light of suspicion.

Clapping her hands, she says "Perfect." before clearing her throat, once more hearing the distortion. Leaving her character to... Sit around and spam, intent on getting to whatever messages come her way when she got back, she moves to the bathroom and looks about for the shower... While part of her knew she needed it, another part of her worried about what sort of state the bath was in... After all, it wasn't exactly the fanciest place...

"I'll... Deal with it." she mumbles, rubbing the back of her greasy head, looking at herself in the mirror for a moment. All of her hair seemed dark, due to how inundated it was with her sweat... The darker spot about her scalp didn't exactly draw her eye. And after she took her shower, she thinks, she'll have to dig into that box... And maybe make a snack of that candy bar from her care package.

The small cube-like space of her "hotel room" looked kind of pathetic, thinking back on it. Had anyone come in today they would have found an unwashed looking woman of mixed descent sitting in a box of a space, on a cheap fold out chair in front of a laptop on a low end table, with only a twin bed and a basic bathroom to keep her company. There were not even paintings on the walls in this room. But there was a certain amount of comfort in the room now that the quota was filled. While the place was a cheap dump, it was safe, at least in the respect that there seemed to be no gun violence, or crime aside from her...situation, no one really bugged her. She was just put in front of a computer.

The dull throb of her headache seemed to had abated for now too, which almost amplified the relief of the situation. Sitting in front of the game the only downside seemed to be she was stuck playing this spambot character for the time being, unless she figured out how to make a new one. Would they even let her do that though? It was an issue potentially to reapproach in the future.

Inside the bathroom the shower was not quite as bad as she had expected. It was not particularly clean, and it did not seem very fancy, but it did look functional. Unfortunately, the bathroom was barren in terms of products. No shampoo, no soap. But, hot running water was better than nothing. The shower head was rather high up, almost rooted at the corner of the ceiling in the bathroom. It had a pair of ceramic cross knobs directly beneath them, one with a red dot and the other with a blue one. While the shower was rooted in a bathtub, there was no tub faucet.

Stepping over to the knobs Marisse found she had to crane her body outwards to try to reach them without stepping into the tub and potentially dousing herself with cold water first, unaware that a good part of this reason was because she had lost a fair chunk of her height since she had arrived. The knob position seemed to mock her predicament. Force to get into the tub first she managed to reach the stupid things and turn them.

At least there was no blast of cold water. Instead she was hit with lukewarm water that did not seem to get any warmer as time went on. For the briefest of moments Marisse was convinced that she had not taken off her clothes, so used to undressing before stepping into showers of past. The realization gave her a soft chuckle. Reaching out her hand she moved to grab at the shower curtain, only to find that it was decorative. The cloth only stretched out to about one fourth of the tub's entrance, leaving her in full view of her window and computer. Well, she did not expect the brick wall outside to peep on her any time soon and her computer screen was not facing her so no camera issues there.

As she stood there, letting the water run over her, the groaning whine of the pipes in the wall in front of her swallowing up the background noise of the other "residents" nearby, Marisse was left to her own thoughts. Her hands roamed over her body in spite of there being no soap in an effort to scrub off the grime that she had accumulated over however long she had been captive now. Looking back on it, Marisse could not even remember the date she had disappeared, sending a slight pang of concern through her.

Continuing to "wash" herself, her fingers danced over her soaked flesh, her complexion much more tan than before, her skin not simply olive in tone, but having turned away from the pink end of the color spectrum and more towards a yellowish hue, though it was hard to tell with the lighting. Her leg hair had grown in thicker, and was really starting to make itself known. Similarly her pubic hair stubble looked thick and dark with the water now running over it, almost hiding the entrance to her own body like some forgotten doorway left to moss over in the jungle.

Her bones popped occasionally, since this was the most she had really stretched her body out since she had awoken, her shoulders having broadened slightly while her legs seemed shorter than they once were proportionate to her overall figure. It was like someone had stripped the grace out of her appearance, turning her body away from being a Jaguar and more into a out of date Jeep. While she had not been athletic before, her svelte figure had seemed to have lost some of its definition, a layer of puppy fat having formed about her middle and making her stomach soft to the touch in a way she had not experienced since she was little. It felt good to explore herself, like she was engaging in some form of release. She did not even realize she had let out a soft moan, not unlike the kind that she heard periodically from the other rooms, unaware that her altered libido was making itself known now that the stress of the immediate situation had been put aside.

A blush rose to her face. She didn't want to... She didn't exactly want to feel horny, not here, not now. It was too tense of a situation, too dark for her to be... Enjoying herself. Yet, despite this, she couldn't help but raise one hand to a pert, full breast and lower the other down to her crotch, gently rubbing at herself, her blush deepening. At the same time as not wanting to, she realizes that she has to - being hot and bothered when she's supposed to be... Doing something, whether that was her 'work' or something else that could potentially get her gassed and moved or something much worse, could only hinder her.

With the sound of the rushing water and creaking pipes, she felt... Alone. Like how she felt outside - out there, surrounded by voices, she felt isolated. Here, she felt like she had some form of sanctuary, a form of... Peace. A smile grew on her lips briefly as she removed her hands... Only to disappear as the side of her hand brushed up against the stubble upon her crotch.

"Ugh, this..." she recalls, looking down and seeing so many dark spots, her well-manicured fingernails picking at the hairs. "Why the hell's it growing in so dark...?" Come to think of it, she realized that her entire body seemed to be a shade off. Was it something in the water? Something in the gas they'd hit her with? It was messing with her skin...? She couldn't come up with any reasonable explanation for it, because... Well, people didn't just change color like that. Unless they were just dying her hair and shoving her in some sort of tanning booth while she was out.

Lethargically, she mumbles "Whatever." and shuts off the water. She didn't want to be away from the computer for too long as to not look like she was just... Idling, was it? And, she was about as clean as she felt she was going to get. Though she shuts off the water, it takes a while for the pipes to quiet down, and in that time she wrings out her hair and reaches for a towel...

Only to find none. "Fuck."

Those assholes didn't even give her anything to dry herself with! Unless the panties... No! She couldn't just ruin them right off the bat! That left... Looking around, she tried to find something, anything that'd be able to adequately dry her, but all she could see was the thin shower curtain.

"Do I have to...?" she muses, peeking out from it and looking over the edge, in case anything that could dry her had fallen onto the floor. No dice. "I guess I do."

Using the more dry side, she begins to run it across her body, blushing only as she dries off her crotch and breasts. However, it's a meager solution at best - most of her progress comes from dripping dry.

When she makes it back into the room proper, she sits back down in her chair... And immediately regrets that decision. Having had time to cool, to congeal... The puddle of sweat she'd left on it doesn't exactly make for a comfortable seat. "Eeeeugh..." she whines, rising up.

The dim lighting of the room made her fold-out chair glisten, the sight making her stomach turn. Having nothing left she's willing to use to wipe it off with, she uses her... Feet, making sure that just enough of it was gone for her to have a comfortable seat. With that cleared up, she digs around in the newer box and fishes out the panties, gladly slipping them on. They dampen somewhat, with the scant bit of moisture still clinging to her legs and ass, but she doesn't mind.

Marrise sniffs, her nose wrinkling. "Mmnnngh..." she gripes again, rolling her eyes. The entire room reeked - of her. Sure, it was only herself she was smelling... Mixed with the food, and the faint, hot, chemical smell of the computer with how much its fans are blowing... But still, it bothered her. She had no reason to smell this way and beyond that, simply wasn't used to it.

With a resigned sigh, she simply waves her hand in front of her face a little and brings the box into her lap, idly picking through it. How efficient she was - between thumbing through it, she began to address the first flood of messages she'd gotten in the game, settling everyone's worries... Well, as best she can. At this point, she was simply telling them what they wanted to hear... By copying and pasting their own words.

"What do I need to do?"

"follow @ JADETECH.CN"

"Is this a real deal?"

"yes real deal"

"How do I know I'm going to get my stuff?"

"you get your stuff yes"

Sure, it was a bother to do that, but responding to every one of them in the queen's English would be even more of a bitch. "Fuck them." she rasps, peeling the wrapper off of the candy bar, not even bothering to see what it is before taking a small bite out of it.

The shower had kept her out of the stench of the hotel room, now, having stepped back into the main living area the reek of her body odor and old food made her feel slightly ashamed of herself. Looking at the run down place, the window outside might as well have been the glass wall for patrons to look at the newest zoo exhibit. Still, it was not like she could do much about it now.

The sun was already setting by the time she had gotten back to the computer, making it all the more obvious that she really could use a lamp, or at least something more than the light of her laptop. Because she had left the game running, the fan was still going and the machine was belting out heat constantly with a high pitched, but relatively soft whirr.

Inside the box, underneath the underwear, were a pair of cheap glasses, a small USB flash drive, and a can of...something, she could not make out the Kanji. However, as she looked at the can, almost instinctively she felt that the symbols meant air. Canned air? Compressed air?

It did not matter, not with people pestering her to get their money. However, again stimulating her brain in an effort to get her English back into gear, it only crumbled all the more. Even her parroted replies felt shaky at best. Marisse found herself looking at words for moments at a time, sounding them out if there were more than a couple of syllables and even when not, she would easily get them mixed up with similar words. The scary thing was that this was happening inside of her mind as well, her mental voice beginning to use close, but not quite right words, either phonetically or in definition. Part of her did recognize that her writing and reading was worse than her mental and verbal skills.

However, it seemed that people were more open to spamming here, or maybe those that were wise to it had filtered her out automatically. In either case she felt like she was getting more responses than in the last game.

Biting into the candy bar was a strange surprise. It was definitely not chocolate. The thing tasted like nougat and chewing gum with a gritty aftertaste that seemed to coat her tongue in chalk. Looking down at the bar, she found a white lumpy slab with some sort of chopped nut jutting out of it. She had not even tasted the nuts! That aftertaste made her gag. This was candy?

Of course, like everything else in this place, the candy did have a secondary purpose than just being a "delicious" treat. The stuff was filled with toxins of all sorts, most notably two. One was an inhibitor to her endocrine system, specifically the parts that helped kick her metabolism into gear and kept it active. By eating this treat, it was quite literally destroying her metabolism with every bite, which not only would make her more easily susceptible to weight gain, but further her lethargy, her sleep time, as well as overall pep.

The second chemical was more insidious. Much like the bombardment of drugs flooding her brain, this one also worked at the same organ too. However, rather than damaging or rewriting things, this chemical targeted the hypothalamus and would cause it to swell and grow out of balance. Being that this was the part of the brain that regulated her hormones, moods, hunger, sleep needs, temperature, thirst, addictive compulsions, and sex drive, by stimulating and over developing this region of the brain it, in many respects, would strip away some of the walls humanity had evolved to keep from being dominated by their more primitive needs based interests.

Still, it was food, and not noodles for once, even if it was a rancid piece of food. However, she was feeling a bit out of it, drowsiness starting weigh down at her eyelids. The game in front of her had become a chore once again, and all of her replies were starting to blur together. However after a bit she suddenly got a pop up.

"You've been invited to a group. Accept?"

There was a certain curiosity in trying to play the game as an actual game. But why would they invite someone obviously trying to sell gold? With her curiosity taking the best of her, she clicked the green icon, unaware that she had momentarily read the Chinese symbols as accept almost naturally.

The entire team roster appeared on the side of the screen, all of them legitimate looking asides from her own. It seemed none of them had their general chat activated, or at least they did not notice it. Maybe they were new? A message appeared in blue party chat font.

"Hello, can you help us with this boss please?"

Marisse could see her character still spewing out spam in general chat, but switching over to party she found she could type without interrupting the program apparently.

This guy was an idiot for asking a spam-bot to do anything but spam... And that gut feeling she'd developed told her why he was so stupid. However, she ignored it in favor of the warm sense of... Was it acceptance? That this guy was so desperate or so new he'd reach out to her, an-...

Marisse had to take a step back - this was just a game. She shouldn't feel honored or whatever because someone asked her about this. Besides, she never played many games back before she was kidnapped, this whole thing was beyond her.

"yes i play bad"

It was the gist of what she wanted to say, so he aught to understand. All she'd really gotten down was how to move and how to talk... And given that she was a spam-bot that could be banned at any time, he shouldn't really expect her to stay around long - she certainly didn't.

Chewing off another chunk of that terrible 'candy' bar, she responded to another whisper while she was at it, this one another inquiry and resulting ping of her clock. If she could work and play, then it... At least, was something that could break the monotony of dealing with such idiots.

Her character seemed to be some sort of beastman with a big sword, so she guessed she could be of some help. While she followed this weird group she'd been brought into, she fiddled around with the pair of glasses she'd been given. Why did they think she needed them? She could see just fine, and it wasn't like they expected her to be anywhere too far from the computer to read it, or do anything that involved her seeing anything from a distance.

She confirmed this by looking about the room, making sure all four walls they'd so graciously provided for her were clear.

"I never had the problems with my eyes." she says, stumbling over her words a little. Putting them back in the box, she gulps down the very last of the bar, washing it down with water and holding her nose - it wasn't exactly something she wanted to taste, rather than just eat. If she didn't know any better, she'd swear it was medicine...

The USB drive was more of a curiosity than the glasses. What could it have on it? More instructions? She... Did have that note that came in the box, too, but she couldn't read it. The also had the note that always came with her first package of the day. For all she knew, there could be porn on the drive. With a shrug, she traces her finger along the side of her laptop until she finds the slot for it, plugging it in. She'd get to that when she was done with... Whatever this kid needed.

Moving her character forward, she realized there had to be at least twenty different skills on her screen for her to use. However, while the icons were just images, when she hovered her mouse over them the descriptions were all in Kanji. There was always clicking randomly about and hoping that just having her additional support as another member mindlessly bashing at a monster would be enough to pull them through of course. Marisse felt her eyes burn from all the screen time today and the encroaching weariness. They had not burned like this before, the changing woman unaware that it was just another side effect of her regimen of drugs were reworking her eyes. Had she looked more closely in the mirror, she would have seen how her iris color had moved deeper into the shade of brown, becoming muddy and uninteresting.

"That's ok, I'm just happy to get some help. Thank you very much. So all we need to do is go over here and fight Ur'lok Zhul. Do you know how to fight him? You're going to need to manage his threat, but I think if you just out DPS him, we should be alright. Are you new to this game too?"

The person sent a few messages after that, stringing along statements with the fluttering speed of a keyboard pro. It quickly overwhelmed Marisse and her inability to keep up with the text and understand its meaning. However, she was able to follow him towards what looked to be a big trollish looking type. A couple other people were watching it, and after a moment their names appeared in the party list.

"Ahoy there!"

"Hey."

"Hi guys, I got some help this time!" The original invitor typed back to them.

"Um, dude, are you a bot?"

The other players gathered around here before the other new member spoke up too, "Yeah, he's totally spamming the chats right now. How did you get a bot to join us?"

As she tried to follow what was going on she found herself leaning in closer to the screen, her back hunched as she felt her stomach press against the side of the table in an effort to get a better vantage of the text. There was another pop in her back, the woman's vertebra shifting slightly as if she had just ratcheted herself into this position, her back now found this type of posture worlds more comfortable than sitting upright. But, she likely would not have noticed at this point anyway.

"not bot real people" she typed back to assure them. It was... Weird getting a hang of all of these icons, trying desperately to figure out what they did simply by what they looked like.

"Flying sword? Fast sword...?" she mumbles, tilting her head and squinting to look at some of them. "Aagh, I'll just test on boss." Marisse looks away from the screen, only feeling the hot stinging of her eyes as they fell upon much cooler scenery, falling upon the bed. "Mmmh... Maybe work all day has bad sides." Rubbing her eyes, she looks back to the screen, moving her character around in front of the speculative players.

"i spam yes but i real"

Her fingers catch over the keyboard, stopping for a moment. Could she... Try to signal for help? Looking to her door, then looking to her clock, she considers telling them about herself... For all of a few moments. No - she couldn't. She needed to stay off of JadeTech's radar for a day or two... Maybe even a week so that they wouldn't suspect her of pulling anything.

Her first day, they had to expect her to run - anyone would, when they found themselves in the kind of position she'd been put in. Her second day was shitty too, because she had no idea what she had to do! They had to expect that, didn't they? Now, her third day... She was working with them! All they'd see was a good little spammer and wouldn't have any clue she's trying to escape... Right?

She just had to drop the right hints and bide her time... And of course, collect the rewards they gave her. With a smile, she leans back over the keyboard.

"we fight boss???"_she sends off. _"i help but new and bad play"

"Yeah, we'll fight now. Just make sure to do as we say."

The enemy was not that though, it seemed that, if anything, she had been placed into a low level zone and her character's innate level had substantially bolstered her damage to offset her ineptitude with the controls and skills. As such, and fortunately for her, the fight really wound up just being a matter of hitting buttons as the monster swung around from time to time. After only a few minutes the thing was dead, its body collapsing to the floor and her character putting away its weapon.

While short, there had been a bit of excitement in it. No wonder people found games fun. That was a nice little bit of action. She found herself grinning, not able to see how the laugh lines that formed from the expression were much more noticeable than before as she did so. The heat of the computer had already begun to make her sweat again and that griminess was slowly but surely returning as she sat there.

"Awesome!" The original kid said as he looted the enemy.

As the fight ended the characters turned towards her own again in a quirky way to signify they were addressing her.

"Thanks for the help."

"Yeah, but still, **** you for spamming!"

The original kid spoke up again, "Yeah, sorry, but I hate spammers. You steal from people. We all just reported you."

What? No, they would not just ask for help only to report her after she had served her purpose. There's no way that someone would be that low. But, sure enough, after a couple of minutes she got a notice pop up, "You have been reported for spamming, this is strike one of five."

Then another, "You have been reported for spamming, this is strike two of five."

And another, "You have been reported for spamming, this is strike three of five."

They really did it. The little bastards! Marisse could feel her blood pressure rise. But before she could type anything to them, they had all left group. It did not matter anyway, had she tried to say anything afterwards it would have just gotten filtered through the ignore function. Feeling the burn in her eyes and the ache in her head and bones, she knew bed would be the only real solution here.

Turning off the computer the room went dark and quiet. The only noises she heard were the muffled noises of the people next door, who also seemed to be quieting down, and the sound of her own breathing. The only sources of light in the room now was the white slit that crept from underneath the door leading out into the hallway, and the orange wedge that cut at a diagonal from the window and onto the wall just above her bed. Moving towards the bed, she slipped under the thin covers and turned to her side.

There was one good thing about being tired, it made any bed comfortable.

As sleep made itself known to Marisse, a slight hissing sound could be heard from the vents in the room, that misty haze pouring over her once more. Unlike the previous times, which had served as a punishing mechanism, this time it was more of a chemical bath. Her pores still dilated from the warmth of the shower water, the gas flowed into her relatively easily, soaking through her skin and into her lungs and throat, entrenching more changes into her bit by bit as a result.

Marisse coughed from time to time as the inhalant worked into her lungs and throat, tickling across her voice box. Her vocal chords thickened, her voice box swelling slightly as bits of her feminine cadence was chipped away, leaving her voice huskier and more warbled. Inside of her lungs, the drugs burned across their inner lining, cutting at her lung capacity and, with it, her ability to use her body for much cardiovascular work. No more running for Marisse. While she could breathe fine, each breath had become shorter, her lungs a bit less efficient than they used to be, effectively negating any cardio work she had developed throughout her life and further encouraging the sedentary lifestyle she was learning increasingly more towards.

That candy bar continued to wreak through her digestive system like a dirty bomb down an alley, the other chemicals in the substance damaging her stomach and intestines and making her belly gurgle ominously. Indeed, the candy bar had not only dumped a load of calories into her and shattered a significant part of her metabolism, but it had scraped through her digestive system with the same effect years of poor eating would have accomplished, making her easily bloated and gassy, usually churning up from her gut and out her mouth, as noted by the soft belch she let out as she turned from her sleep.

The gas continued to hiss throughout the entire night, changing her in many other ways, bit by bit, hour by hour, until the following morning.

The morning. Marisse had no way of knowing the last time she'd actually seen the morning sun - sure, she knew the last time had been her first day here it'd been early morning, but during her long, drug-induced forays into dreamland there was no telling how much time had passed since then.

Though it was morning, the sight of her dingy little room was no less bleak that it'd been in the dark of night. How closely-packed the walls of the building she was housed in and the one beside it were stifled the rays of sun rising in the east. Perhaps it wouldn't be until midday that she'd actually get to see it.

This, however, was of no concern to her just yet. Marisse was indulging in a luxury she'd long gone without: dreams. Her medicated slumber simply up and tossed her into a sea of delirious black, uncomfortable and deathlike. However, entering sleep of her own volition seemed to put her in a much more comfortable state, her mind fertile ground to develop something to keep itself occupied.

Her dream was simple - she was outside, in some sort of plaza, or campus that she'd never seen before. At least, she thought she was. Marisse didn't look like herself, and though there weren't any mirrors, it was just a persistent feeling that she was in someone else's body. People were moving around her, but always seemed to be too far from her for her to reach out to them, too far to touch or talk to. She could hear them talk, hear them shuffle around, but even in the crowd she felt alone. She didn't do anything else, simply sat in the center of her dreamscape until it all seemed to fade and...

"Snnnrk."

With a snort, Marisse returns to consciousness, leaving behind any semblance of grace she could bring with her. Her arms were splayed out, her hands feeling dry, both legs were open and one leg was curled up. Her blanket seemed to be half off of her body, only covering her crotch and legs, which were pretty much covered already. Before she even opened her eyes she reached down to scratch at her tummy, which both felt and looked a bit... Puffier than she remembered, not to mention more stubbly.

She smacks her lips briefly, regretting it a moment after - her entirely mouth felt sore, like she'd just visited a dentist or something. Whether it was the gas, some of the 'candy' she didn't exactly swallow, or simply having gone so long without giving them proper attention, her teeth not only looked a fair bit dingier, a fair bit more yellowed than her previous pearly-whites, but had slightly shifted about in her mouth. In some cases, gaps were more noticeable, in others, the teeth seemed too close for comfort, seeming like they'd come in at an angle. A more noticeable gap rested between her two front teeth.

The first voluntary word that escaped her aching mouth was an ever-so-eloquent "Aaah, fuck."

Almost audibly, her tired eyes open. They seemed misshapen - a fair bit closer to the almond shape of a woman of Asian descent. It's a momentary shock to her to see the same ceiling from yesterday looming over her. It was more familiar, but by no means less foreign. Her hand moves from her belly up to her hair, running through it and gripping her head. The headache was the first foreign thing that had greeted her upon awakening, though it didn't quite feel as bad as yesterday.

"Nothing pills of two cannot repair." she grumbles, sitting up.

Big mistake. She felt like a plastic bag full of water that'd been turned upside down and the air bubble inside of it had shot straight from the bottom and up to the -

"Brrrrap!"

A blush shot across her face, the loud, malodorous expulsion a far cry from the usual, muted belches she was used to. It reeked of the greasy noodles she'd been stuffing herself with and copper; a weird chemical smell. Was it something she ate?

"Likely." she grumbles, patting her stomach, which seemed to respond with a gurgle of hunger "Eew. I must cut the hairs on me... After food."

It was weird - where was her wake-up call? Usually they banged on her door and said something... Oh, yeah, "Ji?ofù." she recalls. Did this mean they didn't drop off her package yet, or was she just up early...?

Marrise lethargically rolls out of bed, her fall from the creaky spring mattress bringing her into a crouch, which she takes her sweet time recovering from due to the clouds of headrush blinding her... But, even as it clears, her vision is a bit blurry. Finally on her feet, she stumbles to the door, rubbing one eye to clear the haziness from it. Curiously, she opens the door to check for her package for the day.

While she had gone to sleep that night of her own free will, it did not result in much more rest than before. If anything it was almost a "hard" type of rest, where she simply switched off, dreamt like she had been starved somehow, then awoke to find time had passed. Of course, being gassed for a solid night had its effects too, and that achiness and headache only entrenched themselves more overnight. It was so constant in some respects Marisse was almost finding it to be a default state of late.

It seemed that the night had only continued with the heat, perhaps only fading ever so slightly. As such, Marisse's sheets were soaked in sweat and the stink of her body wafted about and clung to her like a well believed rumor. Her mouth was not only sore, but had a sort of filmy, grittiness to it that made it feel especially unclean, like she had fallen asleep with a mouth full of food. The sensation persisted even as the weight of sleep lifted somewhat. However, that lethargy had only grown worse over night, and while she might not have noticed it yet, that grogginess and fog headedness was unlikely to ever fully leave her again, always skewing her judgment and forethought notably.

The door leading out into the hallway groaned loudly as she opened the door, the poor thing looking like someone had rammed into it a few too many times, the hinges rusted and slightly askew as well. Instead of imagining someone trying to escape however, Marisse could not help but think that maybe the last tenant had too "wild" of a night, making her legs rub together a bit as she bent out of the crack between the ajar door and its frame. Speaking of her legs, the friction of her growing hair seemed more profound than last night, that stubble having spread substantially while she was asleep like ash accumulated in a smoking household's various ashtrays.

She could feel that stubble running over her flesh as her legs brushed together, the hair thickening the closer it got to her crotch, as if it were the epicenter of the whole mess. But it was not just her legs. A thin happy trail of dark bristles had begun to form upwards, dancing from her crotch and over her softened middle towards her belly button. If she did not shave that off, there would be more more midriffs for her.

The nearly naked woman chuckled at the thought, snorting loudly almost instinctively, unaware that her nostrils had broadened and her nasal passages having become less efficient, making them quite noisy when too much air was sucked through them at once.

Outside there was a package already. Had she slept through the noise? Maybe she had grown used to the rabble from the neighbors. Inside were the usual contents, except this time there was even more noodles, booze, and pills than before, as well as two candy bars at that. Her stomach gurgled at the sight of all of it, the food having grown on her a bit overnight. It seemed like it was going to be another usual day for her...wait no, this was not usual! She huffed at the mental outburst, pissed off at how easily complacent she felt today.

Her rapid exhale almost sounded like an animalistic grunt, but that was lost on her, as she herself was lost in her own thoughts. She... Was struggling to find a balance in this situation. She knew full well she couldn't afford to panic like she did on the first day because she'd make a stupid decision to save herself. She couldn't be as scared as she was on the second day, because she'd just be paralyzed when she had to do something... And she knew she couldn't be as complacent and docile as she was feeling today, because that'd only put her deeper in the hole of helplessness that these people had begun to dig for her.

"Can not accept, but must act too." she mumbles, looking at the bag of food in her hand. Well, there's nothing she could do on an empty stomach... Especially one that felt more empty than normal. As she shut the door, carefully as to not damage it further, a rush of air followed it that wafted the foul smell of her room past her - how stale it was, foul, saline, and... Eggy. The last ingredient in the cocktail of foulness came from somewhere she didn't know... At least until she stifled another burp.

"Gas...?" she muses, looking down at herself, then to the food. She grimaces, looking back to the door. "Asshole. I bet they mean this to occur."

With as muggy as her room was, sitting back down in the chair made her feel like it'd only been a moment since she'd sat on it prior. It was a bit sticky from the torrent of sweat she'd worked up last night and terribly warm as well... God, they couldn't at least give her some AC?

"Maybe..." she begins, looking at the window overlooking the wall of the building beside her. "They give condition air if I work?" No, no, she couldn't think that far ahead... If she truly wanted something from them, she'd keep working until she got it... And that wouldn't end up well for her at all.

A problem arose as she hefted up her heavier bag to set it on her table: she didn't have any room to put it down. A few empty boxes of food sat around, as well as crumpled paper bags, the 'reward' box, and the stack of stuff she didn't want to use. The glasses, the can of air, the vodka, the cigarettes, and the cards. Surely they had to have some sort of trash pickup... They wouldn't just let her fill this room with garbage. "Even if room is garbage." she thinks, chuckling to herself.

Marisse makes a bit of room by tossing everything she didn't want to keep into a plastic bag and setting it beside her fold-out desk, leaving it open for the stuff for today. The sole bottle of booze was joined by the ones she'd received today, as well as the cigarettes. The food... For as much as she knew it'd mess with her system if she ate all of it, her stomach barked at her to chow down. Who was she to disobey? She set one box and a water bottle next to her laptop, booting it up. The notes that came with the bags and box she set underneath the computer... For later. She felt she was catching on to this language of theirs... And they wouldn't give her these notes if they didn't want her to read them.

When she was looking at the kanji-filled screensaver, she felt a pang of anger rise up within her, her bushier brow furrowing. While she'd put it out of her mind so that she could get to sleep, she couldn't help but think of what'd happened to her last night... How those pigs treated her. The stupid moderators, the treacherous members of her so-called party...!

She raises a hand to stop herself - this was exactly why she went to bed. All she needed was a good night's rest... She'd wake up calm, but they'd still be stupid pigs! She was the better woman. The better person. The thought brought a smile to her face, acting as a weak sedative.

Grabbing her bottle of pills and popping two into her mouth with a drink of water, she moves her mouse over to her start menu - her first order of business was to check out that USB drive they gave her. It was still plenty early yet - she could take a moment or two to check those out because of how much she'd gotten done last night. She wasn't done, but well enough along. She'd just have to find another program to use today... She'd already risked eliminating those games as a method of getting her work done. Laying low for a while seemed to be the best course of action.

A vertebrae in her back popped as she tried straightening up after sitting down at the desk, only to fall back into the slumped posture, the slouched look both making her look even more out of shape and unrefined, but also more comfortable than keeping herself in "proper" position. Who gave a donkey's ass about that stuff anyway? Outside in the hallway the stink of cigarette smoke lingered, carrying into the room when she had closed the door.

The thought also made her guffaw at her "witness," completely missing the mistake in her vocabulary as she turned back to the task at hand. Her voice was almost masculine in its huskiness, all the grace and delicacy of her former cadence butchered by whatever was happening to her. As her body continued to change since she had arrived, she was indeed looking increasingly more oriental, a hybrid of what she was and what she was to be, but it was not the graceful, lithe, refined look Westerners might picture when they thought of the Asian beauty. Rather, Marisse was increasingly looking more savage and earthy, the look of a woman likely more Mongolian than of the eastern genetic heritages, her almost swollen facial features belying rough utility than grace or even efficiency. No, she was becoming the person people would hide away, the type of woman that would work well behind the shield of the internet, her heart and mind slowly perverting to match the disgustingness that her body was acquiring and then more so as perverse and nasty flashes of witticisms and mentalities wormed out and bloomed in pockets of her personality.

Those belches seemed to be coming in more frequently as she woke herself up more, her stomach now being kicked into gear by her desire to eat breakfast. It did not take long for her to start to feel bloated and gassy from the noodles once she would start, but her damaged digestive system would kick into a storm of churning and glorping as it worked through the starch and lack of nutrients to further fuel her corruptive transformation. However, as she let out that first belch from the last night, she felt a twinge of something else, a slight flutter in the pit of her chest. The chemicals working throughout her brain were still actively rewiring her mind, and in this case, it was cross wiring the part of her brain that mistook fullness for sexual pleasure, the few, but slowly accumulating, nerves already corrupted sending a flicker of pleasure into her from the noxious eruption. This was also the same for the addictive parts of her brain, which had swollen substantially, forming more acetylcholine receptors, pleasure receptors that respond most notably to nicotine, making that small exposure in the hallway quite potent in the poor woman's brain.

The USB clicked into place and opened a document browsing window on the screen. Inside the window was a series of folders, all written in Kanji. That air of familiarity lingered, the symbols seeming to carry an almost innate sense of meaning to her. Looking over them she clicked on the one that spoke to her the most.

Inside were a series of images. They looked like newspaper clippings and forms. Clicking on the first one so that she could just use the arrow key to cycle through them all, she glanced at the first one and saw it was actually in English! The article was small, it looked like it was the kind that would be buried deep in the paper.

MARISSE SANDERS FOUND DEAD ON CALIFORNIA COAST.

The body of Marisee Sanders, the young woman that disappeared three weeks ago was found on the coast of Southern California. Her body had been severely decomposed by the salt water and wildlife, but dental records confirmed her identity. Those that followed this story from previous weeks might recall that initially Sanders was presumed kidnapped after a small episode in an online game, "Aion," where someone claimed to be Sanders and stated she had been kidnapped. However, moderators quickly determined that it was a hoax from a Chinese gold spammer, or a person that hacks accounts for money, and the police did not pursue the matter.

It took Marisse a long while to read through the article, both in shock and in confusion. Overnight her reading comprehension of English characters had deteriorated significantly, causing most words to lose their meaning entirely, and many letters at times looking like a simplistic drawing than actual words. Even when she could sound out what she was reading, some of these words just plain did not conjure up a definition in her mind. The realization that not only had the search for her been abandoned according to this but also the inability to get all the details due to...whatever was happening to her, had flared up that anger once again.

Pressing the arrow key she saw her birth records, her death certificate, and other documents confirming "Marisse Sanders's" death.

She knew she needed to do something about this. If she did not, no one would come and help her, but Marisse could not help but feel anger with her home. They gave up that easily? Where they really so lazy? No! There was no time for that. However recognizing that she was having trouble typing things out, even if she was misguided by the thought that it was temporary, she did feel her spoken words were still overall fine. Spotting that headset besides the computer, she remembered that there was skype, as well as other voice chat programs, or even voice chatting in one of the games if she wanted to be innocuous, if she really wanted to shoot for help of course.

Skype - she recalled seeing the little emblem on her start menu before, and she could remember that one of her few pieces of instructions reminded her to use programs like it to... What was it again? To prove her validity? Something like that. Her fingers trembled as she plugged the headset in - she was shaking like a leaf, both from the news that the flash drive had held and figuring out another avenue of escape...

"Is it?"

As she boots the program up, she slumps back into her chair, looking at her hands - watching them shake and twitch, seeing them glisten somewhat in the dim lighting with as greasy as they were. The first thing she considered was that they might be watching her - just like she'd thought they'd be in the games... But that was the least of her concerns now. They were able to fake her death - provide DNA, news coverage, a... A... A corpse. What's to say what they could and couldn't do? She felt like she'd almost forgotten that they were able to kidnap her in the first place!

"If I talk at the mother, men of JadeTech can make with hurt!" she groans, holding her head in her hands.

She... If she talked to her mother, not only would she risk putting herself back on JadeTech's radar, but she'd put her family at risk... Her mother, her sister, her... Oh god, maybe even her friends. She wouldn't do that to them... She...

Marisse relaxes. Slowly, she pulls her head from her hands and looks up. "No," she begins, a light smile coming to her face. "I must. Men of will make scary to me. Make scary to me so I not do the not want things!" she reasons, everything making significantly more sense in her head.

She couldn't let them scare her. All being scared would do was hurt her. After all, she needed to tell her family something - to give them hope, even if they couldn't do anything to help. Presuming JadeTech didn't give her her own hacker account, she could faintly recall her own information, and more importantly, her sister's. A soft, wet fart escaped her as she leaned in toward the screen, bringing a blush to her cheeks... Not entirely one of embarrassment. Fanning around herself to clear out the scent, she scans over the keyboard, figuring out which keys would allow her to enter the correct info.

It was tricky. On one hand the risk she was taking could be profound. Sure, they could hurt her, or her family. But, at the same time she had yet to experience any blatant violence from her captors. No one had beaten her, aside from feeling like she had been hit by a truck when she awoke from the gas, and no where had there been any threat against her family as far as she could tell. No, if anything these people seemed mostly focused on passive aggressive tactics, or indirect conflict.

Skype itself was fortunately pretty universal in its layout. And, while all the text was still in Chinese, she could figure out a good portion of it through intuition, and of course the growing understanding of the characters themselves too. However, Marisse found herself stumbling over the keys all the more.

Syntax, spelling, it was all a garbled mess in her head. Part of her wanted to simply just type using the keyboard as laid out in kanji just for the ease and so that she would not have to go purely on memory, a thing she felt was betraying her a bit too often of late. Still, she managed to make it work, roughly, in enough time.

Soon enough she had managed to log in under her old username. A prompt came up for her to test the headset. A prompt came up in both kanji and English asking her to speak into the microphone and confirm if her audio sounded right through a playback. As she started to work through it she saw that a good portion of her old contacts were online, including her sister.

There was a tight feeling in her chest, reaching down to her gut, making her feel numb and bubbly all over... She figured that it was hope - seeing her sister, her friends, seeing _something_from her life before she'd been whisked halfway across the world and held captive by these hacker freaks. However, it might well have been the candy messing with her digestive system or the hunger she'd all-but-forgotten about.

"Sister..." she gasps, holding her hands before her mouth, almost in awe. "I... I see you, I think of I see you not again!" Of course, she wasn't talking directly to her - she still had to test the mic. Sure, they kept her tech in top operating condition even as her surroundings deteriorated with every fuck-up, but she just had to be sure.

Marisse dons the headset... For all of a minute before taking it off, beginning to fuss with her hair. The hard plastic and cushiony foam felt like it'd stirred up a beehive atop her head with as itchy as it'd become. Her nails, slightly longer and bearing dark rungs of dirt beneath them, seemed much better suited to alleviate herself with as sharp as they'd become.

"Aya..." she grumbles, a particularly hard scratch evoking a spark of pain.

Patting down her limp, greasy hair as best she could manage, she replaces her headset, adjusting the mic close to her mouth and beginning the playback test - giving it a simple test.

"Do, re, mi..." she begins, playing it back... And wincing as she hears it. Too loud, she figures, turning it down to give herself a clearer listen, but even then it doesn't solve the problem with it. Her voice is too deep - nothing like a guy's, but lacking much femininity to it. It's nasally too, and hearing it only begins to grate on her.

"Aaah, what are the happen?" she grunts, rapping her knuckles on her desk in frustration, reaching over for her water to clear her throat out. Coughing a few times, she repeats - "Do, re, mi!", and though her voice isn't as warbled, it's still just as deep and grating.

Marisse exhales quickly, fuming. "Cheap pig fuck asshole." she grunts, slouching lower as she curses out JadeTech - they gave her faulty equipment, with shitty reception... She didn't have to look at the brand of headset to know it's from a western developer.

With another sigh, she concludes her audio test. While not content, she submits to the fact that her equipment is poor... Well, to her knowledge, anyway. After all - she knows that if she can get a video call going, her sister won't need sound to recognize her! The camera on her laptop could be showing her in the lowest resolution possible and she'd still come through clear. After all, there wasn't much changing her face could do. The only difference she could tell was that she didn't have makeup on!

Selecting her sister, she begins to smile - she showed up under her proper name, Danielle. Even if she couldn't get across to her sister where she was or how she'd been taken, she could still give her sister hope that she was still alive. That alone could expose her death as a lie and get people looking for her again! It was perfect!

"With luck of mine, Danielle will be doing with walk away." she murmurs, giving a deep chuckle and pulling another bundle of noodles out of her first box of food. She starts a video call, looking away from the screen briefly to fiddle with her hair, trying to get it into presentable... Or, at least, recognizable condition.

As she kept trying to speak into mic and then her following thoughts, Marisse found that the strange cadence and inflection that had been creeping into her dialect was only getting worse. On top of all the issues she was having making herself sound competent in English with her failing vocabulary and grammar, Marisse was starting to have trouble enunciating correctly. This combined with her new pitch of her voice only made her sound more and more the stranger to her own ear.

It did not even occur to her that she was eating while getting ready to talk over the internet. While there was a moment where she tried adjusting her hair, it was very superficial. She gave no thought to her sweatiness, the lack of clothing, the poor lighting or how she might really look after all this time in captivity.

Clicking the call button the usual Skype pinging noises began, the camera light turning on automatically as the call set itself up. After a few rings a picture appeared on the screen of a young woman that looked much like Marisse, or at least how she had when all of this had started. The woman looked tired, as if she had left the computer on and had been asleep.

"Who is this, do you know what time it-" she paused, looking down at the screen to see the username. "Ok, who the fuck hacks a dead person's account! If you have any sense of self preservation you should hang up and go-"

Danielle was getting going in spite of her tiredness, her words filling with a mixture of anger and hurt. Marisse needed to act quickly before things got out of hand. Danielle was leaning into the screen a bit, as if trying to make out the image, "A-are you not even wearing a top?! What the hell?" With that she hit the end call button, leaving Marisse in silence once more. Her sister's username was still green, maybe if she could quickly explain herself she might be able to get back on the call.

In spite of it being her sister, another pang of fury whipped through Marrise's mind. Of course, Western woman jumps to conclusions without thinking about things. That bái mùchòub?! Always-

What did she just think now? It had slipped through her mind in a voice so natural for a moment it was horrifying, completely pulling her out of her complacency and reminding her that she really did need to get out of her, and soon, before she lost whatever will was left to bother.

She did need to get out of here - if she didn't, she wouldn't be doing any of this. She wouldn't have appealed to the incompetent administration of the first MMO she'd been spamming up, she wouldn't have one-sidedly aided the backstabbing players of the other one, and she certainly wouldn't be trying to contact her sister who certainly didn't just mistake her for a stranger.

Of course a sooner rescue was better. The sooner she was out of here, the sooner she could put all of this behind her, and some methods of escape might actually be easier... But on the other hand, her addled mind found it hard to muster any sense of urgency. It was content in the knowledge... Or, rather ignorance, that she didn't have any time limit, as it were. She didn't have X amount of days before something happened to her... At least in her mind.

However, that docility was lost for but a moment as she saw her sister hang up on her. Her face reddened as if she'd cracked into her box of General Tsao's, her hands trembling over the keyboard. She shut her eyes and looked down, raising her hands to her temples and simply sat, stewing and sweating, waiting for the initial rage to pass through her. A dozen things crossed her mind at this time - all of them rife with detest for her sister and society - but she tried her damnedest to tune it all out.

It mostly worked.

Despite not having moved a muscle in roughly five minutes, she was breathing heavily, almost fuming with sweat and the last dying embers of anger, even as reason... Her reason returned. Surely her sister was shocked. Distressed that the sister she thought dead suddenly contacted her. After all, a corpse was provided, and a funeral was held. It was probably more realistic to think she was dead than to think she was alive and that it was all a hoax.

Definitely a hard thing to reason against, she figures.

What breaks her out of her little ball of anger isn't that - reason alone would've taken longer. The tension that'd been building and building was simply shattered by a single wet fart, the suddenness taking her off-guard and... Making her snicker a little. Being angry after that felt like it'd take effort to do... And, well, she didn't want to waste any more time fuming than she needed to. Stress is bad for the skin, she thinks

Her fingers, now steady, lower themselves to her keyboard, her eyes opening. She has to blink a bit of blurriness out of her eyes, which stubbornly persists for a moment before clearing... Mostly. If she wasn't so focused on typing out her responses and she took a look behind her, she'd find the opposite end of her little apartment wouldn't be entirely in-focus.

"no no no marise is me" she types, offhandedly musing about making a file she could just copy and paste to explain her situation. "they find girl that is wrong not marisse"

Every sentence she types is immediately sent off, barraging her sister's feed with her messages.

"my dead is not real"

"taken to china"

"help"

"love our mom tell her"

"please"

"no person listen"

Her final post took a while to type... The anger she feels, though hot, is more like ice than anything else, if only for how it melts into deep sorrow.

A gurgle escaped her stomach like a growling lion. In spite of having just eaten, the noise was accompanied with a hunger pang, as if her irritation had only blossomed her gluttony further. The cocktail of drugs swirling within her system were indeed producing such a result, if not inadvertently. Irritation, anger, pleasure, it all released various hormones and neurochemicals in response. Unfortunately for Marisse, the adrenaline she produced in her anger only furthered the work that her captors were doing to her brain, specifically her frontal lobe.

Her prefrontal cortex, which regulated her ability for complex cognitive behavior, personality expression, decision making, and self regulated social behavior had eroded substantially over the recent days/weeks. Had Marisse stepped into a CAT scan, the comparison between what would show up now to what her brain had been before would be striking. Some might say that it had even regressed to the complexity of a young teenager, leaving her impatient, impulsive, and nearly unable to thoughtfully plan her actions, let alone the distant consequences of them. In the end, it made her all the more conducive to do what felt good now, regardless of what would happen later.

Each message she sent seemed to make her feel a little woozy, unaware that the combo of the emotional surge she had experienced a moment ago with the stimulation to her lingual centers only accelerated the process. In a sense, every message she sent came along with a small part of her English, each stamped with a do not return to sender tag. As the last one went through she waited, hoping that she would get a response.

After a few minutes she heard the telltale chirp of a new message.

"Assuming this is not a cruel joke, how would you even prove this? How can you prove you are really my sister?"

Marisse leaned forward to read it, finding herself leaning more than she had before. It took her a moment to process the sentence, a good portion of the words garbling in her head almost as badly as her English was to those around her. What? Why was her sister typing like that? Was she drunk? It seemed strange that her sister would act in such a way, though it did help to explain why she had hung up on Marisse.

A flash of frustration spawned at the back of her throat. This was a matter of life and death, and here she was having to baby each step out for her ingrate of a white girl sister. Marisse could not help but let out a sigh as she tried to figure out a proper response. Sitting there, Marisee could feel her temples throb to the rhythm of her returning frustration. It was like no one got her anymore. Were people really so petty? Part of her generalized it to the West, but she did realize something. She had not reached out to people from the East yet either. The thought struck her with a flicker of hope. It was an avenue she had not pursued. Maybe the irony of her escape would be that the people of her captor's culture would be the ones to set her free.

As she looked up to the computer though, she realized that while all the programs were in Chinese, every game she had played had been rigged for a Western server or demographic. Maybe if she-

"I'm blocking this account if you do not reply right now you sonofabitch."

Marisse turned back to the Skype window, brushing back a lock of sweat soaked hair, and began typing. As she did she could feel the keyboard grow greasy from her sweat and excess oil, unaware her body paled in comparison to the keyboard. That pair of undergarments were already damp and nasty from the heat at that. Had she been able to wear anything else she might have found the rest of her outfit in a very similar state.

And yet part of her enjoyed it.

It was a small part of her, but growing. Perhaps in response to wanting to rebel against "Western" standards, or maybe it was a pain/pleasure response mechanism. It was hard to say. But one thing was for sure, Marisse's soul was taking a turn for the perverse, step by step, with a growing smile on its face every bit of the way.

A small burp escaped her lips as she leaned in further, her softer ass shifting about on her cheap, sweat-soaked seat. It was becoming a bit more of a bother than it was worth to read everything - not just because she was quickly losing the capacity to understand everything, but because of the remnant blurriness.

Her body put in terms she'd have understood before being kidnapped, was fucked twelve ways to Sunday. The chemical cocktail that was circulating through her body, constraining and eroding the things keeping her her while feeding and augmenting everything to keep her where JadeTech wanted her to be had done just a bit of damage to her vision - her corneas were being slowly damaged, leaving everything past a few meters blurred.

On one hand, JadeTech likely wanted their hackers shackled to their computers - there was no need to go out anywhere else... But on the other hand, they didn't want them blind. That's what the glasses were for... Something Marisse was just finding out.

'No camera to see me.' she thinks. 'Sister does not see the me of me, too.' There was no need for her to keep up appearances if she wasn't being watched, after all - she could put on the glasses, presuming they'd help... And, lo and behold, they did. They were a bit much for her, as her captors had no accurate way of telling how fast her sight would decay, but they allowed her to get her face away from the screen. Her breath was fogging it up, anyway.

"ask marrise things" she replies. "only marise know"

It was the obvious course of action - if she knew something only she'd know, she was fine.

After all, it worked in the movies, whenever they had to tell if someone was a clone.

She smiles and reclines in her seat, placing her box of food upon her breasts and spreading her legs. Though she knew she should probably panicking, freaking out about JadeTech discovering her... She felt comfortable. The food made her feel content and gassy. The pungent scent of gas and sweat made her feel horny. The horniness made her feel hungry... And now she had the worst thing any procrastinator could possibly have: a plan B.

She had no reason to devote all of her effort into play A, securing rescue by way of her sister, if she had a plan B, after all. Said plan B was reaching out to the...Locals. Probably not her neighbors, but easterners - sure, a handful of them got her into this mess in the first place, but at least they were doing something. All she'd gotten from the west were excuses and idiocy, even from her family.

Hell, if she gets out of her with no help from her family, she won't even go back to them! Yeah, that'll show them! She could start a new life when she got back home, or maybe she wouldn't go back at all and...

She stops herself. Even though she... Did feel an impulsive desire to see that plan though, she was still lucid enough to realize it'd just defeat the point of escaping if she didn't go home.

With a sigh, and a scratch of her armpit, she awaits her sister's response.

Her eyes felt like there was a film over them, keeping her from being able to see just right. It was annoying, much like everything of late. All Marisse wanted to do was sit back, eat, sleep, and, oh yeah, escape! She shook her head of the concern, rubbed her eyes once more in vain effort to make her vision work, and tried to get back to the task at hand. With the glasses on however, her vision was just fine oddly enough. Marisse pondered the convenience for only a moment, after all, everything else had been controlled by them, why not that too?

A snort escaped her widening nose as she looked over the entirety of her conversation, and the lack of its results so far as another message appeared.

"The scar on my left foot, where did I get it and how?"

Every passing moment of this conversation was becoming more and more of a hassle for Marisse. Was her sister so untrusting? The desire to eat and maybe kick back for a few hours grew all the more appealing as her options became more available in her mind. Maybe she could snack a bit, watch some youtube, maybe open a bit of porn and-

What?

Marisse waited for her mind to reply, as if she was entitled to some sort of justification. But nothing came. She wanted to look at pornography. Simple as that. She sat there, the realization oddly...liberating. It had never really been an interest of her growing up. After all, pornography was typically seen as a "guy" thing. But here she was debating it. Well not even that, she outright wanted it.

The growing warmth between her legs further decreased her patience with the current conversation. Of course, the combination of frustration and arousal was not doing her body or mind any favors. It felt like the room had grown warmer over the past few minutes, her body sweating more as a result. The smell of her body odor was growing quite potent of late as her unshowered body continued to ferment in her own self made juices. Inside of her, her sweat glands had swollen in size to compensate as a strange side effect of her treatment. Her other glands had grown as well, salivary, pituitary, and the like. Of course, this was far from the only change that was progressing. That stubble under her arms and between her legs had only grown more dense, the hair actually growing in thicker and quicker than before. Not inhumanly quick granted, but far more than most people out there, with her testosterone sensitivity spiking and causing her hair follicles to activate in many regions of her body, be it her crotch, under arms, forearms, legs, or even about her areola, it would guarantee that she would be too "unsightly" to want to leave her newfound job for something more public oriented anyway.

There was too much to type. Even at one question it bothered her.

"When did we find that squirrel nest?"

Another question. Great. What next, a blood test? Maybe a pledge of allegiance? She sighed and found herself looking to the headset. The idea of talking while having her hands free to eat was appealing, but what if her sister got upset again? The convenience, or more realistically laziness, was getting the better of her at this point though.

Well fuck her if she got upset. She should have more patience!

Marisse... Took her time in responding. She didn't indulge her desires fully, after all, she didn't know if she had reliable access to a browser, and as such simply sat doing... Nothing. She ate, rubbed herself a little, and simply allowed herself to fester. It felt nice, comparable to how she'd felt when she climbed into bed after taking a hot shower.

Not that a hot shower would feel terribly nice to her now, of course. Her mind was active, even if her body was not - she was thinking back to her childhood, where she figured these questions were from... She couldn't be terribly sure, with how oddly her sister was writing them. Maybe she shouldn't be doing this while her sister was drunk...

Whatever. If she was too drunk to understand, it was her loss. "you jump in leaf heap from top of home, at first home we life at" she responds to the first question, grumbling softly.

She takes a swig of water, finding herself running out... She breaks away from responding to look for another bottle of water, or something to sate her thirst... Unfortunately, there wasn't anything else. Anything... Except the vodka, and she wasn't about to crack into that.

By now her workstation was littered with the three emptied boxes of takeout and almost-empty bottle of water. Something about it... Makes her smile. Well, it delights her a little - the look of focus on her face kept her from smiling. It took visible effort to decypher the second question, and even more to type it. It was becoming more trouble than it was worth, she thinks.

"in" she types, before pausing. She knows where she found the nest... But she forgot the name of it. The... Thing that's above the fireplace. The thing on the roof. The...

"Shit, fuck fuck fuck..." she grumbles, slamming one hand beside her keyboard, making the lighter objects on her desk jump a little.

"in hole above fireplace" she sends. "we look for chrissmas man"

She sighs. It'll have to do. In her lounging, taking her sweet time, she failed to notice the clock slowly ticking by... Only as she waits for her sister to reply does she notice it, and remembers: she has a deadline. In her 'haste', she forgot that she still had work to do today.

Hurriedly, she sends off a quick message. "good???? have no time plesae"

Sure, her work was easy... But it was unreliable. If her inquisitive sister kept barraging her with questions, she could miss it! Who knows where she'd end up next if that happened? The thought of failing JadeTech struck the girl a bit more than the thought of her having to start working on escaping anew.

A few more minutes went by, still no response. Fuck! She had not time to deal with this. She needed to-

"What do you need from me?"

Marisse looked at the message, staring at it until it made sense to her. Help? Was she finally going to get help? It was too good to be true. But she had to go for it right? With a grunt she moved to respond, her brain finding the words much like an old man trying to reclaim lost glory, or in other words with little results.

However, she did not need to worry about it for long. As she began to type the screen suddenly cut to a blue screen. It was not long before she heard a familiar noise. Turning around she saw that familiar gas hissing through the vents. The gas began to fill the room and quickly Marisse began to feel herself losing consciousness. Dipping into the blackness she vaguely recalled the warning on the slip of paper she got initially, but then, nothingness.

Much like the previous times she was under, there really was not dreaming, but rather a feverish haze as she broke in and out of the blackness of her drugged sleep. As she slept her captors went back to work, punishing her behavior/attempt to escape accordingly. In the recesses of her consciousness she could have sworn someone was talking to her, the taste of alcohol kissing her tongue and burning across her throat. It seemed to hit her like a truck, sending her into a heavy buzz within minutes. The stuff tasted almost like straight ethanol. The burn that rolled down her throat was oddly erotic, like she was purging her insides with a cleansing fire in compensation for her inability to clean herself up on the outside, unaware that it was far more a corruption than a cleansing. With her addictive center hyper activated, it only took the one sip to hook her into wanting, no, needing to experience that taste again. Given the rest of her changes though, she would quickly build a tolerance for the stuff, leaving her needing more and more in the vain, but ever needing pursuit for that first high. It was a habit that spread to almost all of her desires, be it sexual, physical, or mental, her binge personality entrenching itself permanently into her system.

The vodka, much like everything else, was laced with its own devastating drugs. The main change these drugs seemed to focus on was the inebriation of desires. That further erosion of self control was complemented now with a spike in her pleasure centers, forcing her to prioritize whatever made her feel good over the intellectual or philosophical gains of rational decisions.

Similar mental changes happened elsewhere in her mind. Marisse's English was nearly entirely shattered, her mind breaking heavily into Cantonese almost on default, but never enough to keep her from feeling like she could try to speak in English. If anything, her growing self righteousness only made her more confident in her lacking abilities. While she was quickly losing her ability to speak her once native language, her memories remained intact, including the audio. Whenever she would recall her past now, it would be even more foreign than before, the words making little sense and the people so...different from her new way of thinking. Likewise, her mental sieve was now further weakened, while her compulsive swearing and vulgarity all the worse. In spite of the "swap" in languages she was experiencing, her vocabulary in her new language was no where near as refined, leaving her extremely disrespectful and poorly articulated even in text.

All of those calories she had accumulated over that day hit her as well, swelling out her body and taking it further away from the in shape, lithe version of her former self. Now she looked like an out of shape, bloated slob of a woman, drenched in sweat and reeking of flatulence, musk, and body odor. Her stomach spilled over to either side in heavy, quivering love handles that had expanded enough to create the beginnings of a roll on either side of her body. While her breasts had not grown very much, her ass was easily taking the brunt of the gain, swelling out behind her and endowing her with cheeks that befit her sedentary, slothful persona. Cellulite and dimples now dotted that rear end as well as her newly formed saddlebag thighs further demonstrating how there was no muscle under that lard, just flab.

Throughout the evening the sounds of her bones popping and cracking into place could be heard as she became more heavy set in her bone structure, her shoulders widening and her facial features growing more prominent. Even her hands and feet had swollen, looking more masculine than feminine now, with dark hairs starting to grow about her knuckles. Even her teeth grew larger and more slab like, growing crooked here and there as her upper teeth seemed to slant slightly outwards, pressing against the inside of her swelling lips and giving her a very apish sort of look, not to mention impeding her articulation a bit.

It was not until the heavy knock of that familiar morning greeting came about that Marisse even stirred at all. "Ji?ofù!" She could hear another bag thud against the floor outside, but the drowsiness was still weighing her down, and it was another few hours before she awoke again, stiff, hungry, and oddly aroused.

To say the call from outside the door was the first thing to greet her would be inaccurate. The first thing she felt when she woke up was regret. She'd been close to getting out of this godforsaken place before, with the admin... But never this close. She convinced her sister that she was real - that she needed help, and her sister was offering to give it... When JadeTech stepped in. She didn't want to deal with what she was feeling - she just wanted to sleep all day, all night...

But, her roaring stomach kept her from doing that, the yawning chasm within forcing her awake. Who rose from the ratty, thoroughly stained and sticky mattress wasn't quite Marisse - they bore only a pale reflection in body. Their features were clearly of Asian descent, and quite coarse... A little homely, even. Their body was soft - what muscle their comparatively thin upper body had in weeks past had long-since atrophied, while their lower body was thick and chubby. Their skin was a deep goldenrod, blacked-out by dense hair upon their crotch and belly and beneath their arms, with somewhat sparse coatings upon their legs and arms, and even ass. Of course, their frame was all but graceful as well, uncoordinated and dazed.

For as little resemblance as they had to Marisse, they were Marisse. Though she'd been stewing her own miasma of sulfuric gas and foul sweat, her somewhat-wide nose never quite got used to it... It still hung just as thickly in the air as it'd be to someone standing beside her... The only difference was that she'd grown to like it.

Her rise from bed is noisome - the mattress creaks, her ass rumbles with gas, and her mouth rambles with curses, her lips every-so-often loosing a spray of spittle. She lumbers for the door, her glassy eyes missing much of the no-doubt poorer apartment around her, throwing the door open and looking outside - surely her package had to be out there.

Her thoughts ran like a checklist, ordered, neat, and with little segue in between.

'Get package.'

'W?h?a?t?'?s? ?t?h?e? ?p?o?i?n?t???'

'Look at room.'

'W?h?a?t?'?s? ?t?h?e? ?p?o?i?n?t???'

'Look in mirror.'

'W?h?a?t?'?s? ?t?h?e? ?p?o?i?n?t???'

'Look at computer.'

'W?h?a?t?'?s? ?t?h?e? ?p?o?i?n?t???'

'Work.'

Opening the door, she was indeed greeted with another bag of goodies. Well, not quite a bag. Where she had been given plastic bags before this was outright a sack in size. It took her a moment to heft it up, the weight of it taking her by surprise. As she brought the thing in, the floorboards beneath her creaked loudly. A thick aftertaste lingered in her mouth, leaving her throat dry and irritable. The room was a trashy piece of filth, with rotting, mildew soaked carpet that reeked ominously and cracked drywalls on every side of her. There was no bathroom at this point, just a small closet with no doors where a toilet and a mirror had been installed. A small wash basin sat in the corner of the closet to serve as hew new sink.

There was a window still, but now it was set higher up on the wall besides her mattress, as if she was now on a lower level. Walking over to it she confirmed it. She was on the ground/lower level of the building. Outside she saw a sidewalk. Across the trash littered street was a T intersection, the bottom stroke leading away from her and allowing her to see the slum of a city that had become her new residence. Every so often someone would pass her by, but sadly the window appeared to be sealed shut, even if the glass and insulation was so poor she could hear every car or bike pass by.

Thick tendrils of sweat soaked hair flopped about as she bent over to look over her bag. Her mane of hair was now both longer and thicker, resulting in a tangled mass of a rat's nest that spilled over her shoulders and danced about her lower back. Had she a comb, Marisse might have been able to pull off quite the look, but as it stood now, she looked more like a display on evolution than something conventionally appealing. Her thicker eyebrows and brow ridge and large cheekbones gave her an unrefined look that would have ostracized her from her family, had they been able to see her look now.

Still, it did not bother her, at least from what she could see. As she poured over the bag she felt her body slosh and jiggle in ways she had never experienced before. Her thick thighs mashed together, each rubbing against each other and sending soft ripples up to her globular ass cheeks whenever she took a step. It felt good, even erotic. In her mind Marisse's sexuality had continued to warp and corrupt with her changing brain. It was as if her entire sexual being was turning inward, her interests focused on self stimulation, exasperating and indulging in her personality and physical attributes as opposed to being in a relationship with some man. In other words, her sexuality was becoming almost as self centered as the rest of her, much to the benefit of Jadetech. After all, a woman that could care less about finding a date so long as she could have a good time with herself, or at someone elses expense online, is unlikely to wander far from her work/residential space.

Inside the bag was essentially the same thing as before, except there was easily triple the amount. Sifting through the items Marisse spotted the cheap fold out table that served as her all purpose counter space, and lazily lumbered over to it to empty the bag's contents out into the open. More noodles, more water, more vodka, cigarettes, that crappy Asian candy again, and so forth. Nothing exciting, but given how her stomach was still churning, she was grateful for the quantity, even if reluctantly so.

Also on the table was her laptop. Inspecting it closer it actually seemed to be the same laptop as yesterday, or at least the same model. It would be cruel irony if they had gone through all that work to punish her escape attempt only to dangle the computer with her Skype account still active on it before her eyes. But, it did not matter. All that mattered was getting something to eat for the moment, and maybe something else if it struck her.

To any onlooker, Marisse seemed to be every bit of a robotic thrall as JadeTech wanted her to be. She was running on autopilot, arms and legs moving on their own and eyes glossed over and dull. Only when she reached her table, when she hefted the bag up onto it and began to rifle through it did she regain some semblance of autonomy. She blinked once, twice, then a few more times rapidly, running her larger hand through her sticky mess of hair and holding it there... For as moist as it was, it felt oddly dry at the same time, but not-so-oddly hot.

For as much as she'd changed, she still seemed to have some smarts left in her. She rationed out her counter space to give herself enough room to comfortably use the laptop but have easy access to her stuff. A carton of food, a bottle of water, a bottle of vodka, the pill bottle, and the candy bars. The excess, plus the cigarettes, remained on the floor in the bag.

Unfortunately, she'd lost most of her... Rewards. The can of compressed air, the glasses, and the flash drive. The only thing that's remained were the panties... Simply by virtue of them remaining on her as she'd been unconscious. Soaked in days' worth of sweat and her own juices, they'd grown dingy and yellowed, a stain especially noticeable at the very front.

She plopped down and took a swig of water to wet her whistle and popped a pair of pills to get rid of the migraine hammering inside her skull. She gave a scornful look to the Skype window and shut it - it was just there to taunt her. Nothing more.

Today, she didn't give a shit about escaping. Whenever she thought about it, it pissed her off... Be it from bad memories, or subconscious conditioning. Today, she was going to look into these assholes that were keeping her - her screensaver had something written in Cantonese, and every care package came with a note. She'd read those, then she'd check out the internet... To see if she couldn't find anything to sate her growing lusts with.

Sighing, she digs the letter out and reclines in her chair - one hand on the letter, the other shoveling noodles into her noisily-chomping mouth.

Everything felt sluggish to Marisse, her movements, her thoughts, even her reactions. It was all a foggish haze. The only things that seemed to take her out of that haze was her stomach, her crotch, or whenever something bothered her enough, leaving her otherwise in a sort of soup of her own sweat and laziness. However, when she did regain her focus, her movements were clumsy and blunt, her coordination shot and further making her look like a bumbling oaf with those enlarged mitts that were hands. Her panties were grungy and slightly crusty, grinding against her crotch as she moved about, stimulating her inadvertently and making her heart flutter from time to time as she went about her breakfast.

The letter in her hand had suddenly crumpled inside the bag, but the message was still clear. The English section was very hard to make out, making Marisse think that it was some sort of Engrish mishap this time around. As she ate flecks of food and spittle would escape her mouth occasionally, the changing woman mouthing out each word as she found herself reading the Cantonese with only reasonable difficulty. In her mind it actually looked effectively like English, leaving the letter looking more like a poorly typed mess throughout rather than two distinct sections. Much to her chagrin she found that it was essentially the same thing as the original English section, but with one notable difference.

"At this point there is no turning back. Welcome to our family. You can try to escape if you so please, but you will find yourself no longer welcome in your land. Embrace Jadetech and your new destiny and Jadetech will take you in with open arms."

It was too much effort to argue with the letter, she just wanted to eat. But putting down the letter and opening the browser online, she still wanted to see just what Jadetech did exactly, all the while sucking down noodles casually. The browser seemed much more familiar to her now than the previous days, as if something had changed in the settings to put more of it in "English." Lifting her hands to the keyboard she began to search for Jadetech but paused. Would that count as an escape attempt? No, it couldn't, right?

She shook her head of the concern, feeling that thick hair bat against her and flick specks of sweat onto the computer screen. Marisse leaned forward to wipe it off with a fat thumb only to spread noodle grease over the display. Fuck it.

Jadetech Industries.

It did not occur to her until much later that she had typed that phrase on the Chinese keyboard with no real struggle. The browser popped up in Chinese of course, but she could make out enough of it to figure out where to go. After a few minutes she learned the following:

-JadeTech was known as a private contractor for digital services.

-While they dispute these claims, the company has been accused multiple times in the past for hacking, defrauding, and stealing wealth through the internet.

-No Jadetech employee has ever been convicted for any crime associated with the company.

-Lawsuits tend to disappear after only a few days.

It was not surprising, given how shady her circumstances alone were. But it did not bode well for her predicament. She was dealing with crooks through and through in the end, but one thing still did not add up. Why did they kidnap her specifically? This thought was cut off as she let out a rather long, unladylike fart from her still fattening ass, the trumpeting sound echoing throughout the cheap room and the vibration making her lick her lips instinctively before she caught herself doing it. Damn, even the smallest things were distracting.

"Shit." she grumbles, picking a sauce-laden water chestnut off of her greasy breasts, popping it into her mouth. Her sweat gave it a noticeable marinade, and not one that was wholly unpleasant to the changed woman. More sauce, and the occasional veggie or piece of noodle was dripping down onto her body, breaking from the chopsticks she now otherwise expertly ate with due to the speed at which she ate.

The laptop was clearly the one she'd used yesterday... Or, well, whenever it was that she'd been conscious last. The keyboard was a bit greasy, and a small, sticky circle of orange sauce remained just beneath the keyboard, where she remembered spilling some. It didn't seem to have been wiped, either - it still had the filename of the news article from the flash drive in its recent history, but of course she couldn't open it.

The fact that it'd... Followed her struck her oddly - she felt a sense of almost... Kinship with it, that it was connected to her. Even the greasiness and stains made it seem more hers. Even with the pills abating her migraine and the rheum rubbed out of her almond-shaped eyes, it was still difficult for her to read everything, forcing her to squint and lean in more and more.

Part of her wondered why she didn't look into JadeTech sooner... Even if she was hell-bent on escaping, knowing her enemy would've benefitted her. Well, it wasn't like her glancing search helped any. All she got were the same things she'd discovered on her own - that they were hackers, and that they could make people... Disappear. In all, it only left her with more questions than she began.

"No good, shit fuck." she spits, taking a swig of water.

Well, at least it confirmed one thing - that she did have internet access. She dug through the bookmarks - mostly proxy sites, a few websites and wikis for the games she was supposed to spam, and a few general interest sites - just to see what they wanted her to access, and then checked a few sites she could roughly recall to see what she could access. Here, she had a little trouble... She could remember the names, but hardly make sense of them.

She lets out a loud belch after polishing off her first box of the day. She giggles a little, husky and a little rasped, before delving back into the bookmarks. A little folder marked 'Xiànzhì jí' stood out. Her eyes widened a little, and she gulped, for the first time not because she had a mouthful of food.

"It..." she begins, biting her lower lip. "Porn."

Part of her felt... Relieved. It was like a reward - she wouldn't have to just sit like this, bored and horny every day... But, it could just be something to keep her mind on her work instead of on more... Carnal things. Whatever the case, she clicked on the first link without a second thought, finding herself immediately on a homepage - a search bar sat just above a series of numbers, most likely counting the number of images on the site. Above it were a few tabs in Cantonese - 'images' and 'tags'.

Reluctantly, her hand, somewhat covered in sauce, slips down the tight border of her panties, past her dense thatch of pubes and across her lower lips. She flinches as she touches them, feeling their slickness, both from her sweat and... Other things. She didn't need a justification for this - she was horny, and she wanted to get off. That's all there was to it.

The stickiness of the congealing food plopping onto her body occasionally only furthered to wreck her appearance. Had she been able to take a step outside her changes and look at what she had become she might have fled in terror. Sitting there, Marisse continued to chew at her food noisily, gnashing at the starchy, cheap food with her larger, slightly yellowed teeth as she stared apathetically at the dingy laptop screen that had become more of a window to her than the plate of glass leading outside.

The thick cotton that had formed over her mind seemed unshakable, leaving her sluggish and lethargic mentally and physically while her growing perversion left her body in a soupy warmth of arousal that itched at her attention nearly constantly, skewing her priorities. It felt sexy to act such a mess. Intellectually she knew it was wrong, although part of her mind questioned that, but she could not deny the sensations she was experiencing. Her heart fluttered as felt those beats of lukewarm sweat roll down her bloated, greasy curves and pool underneath her ass and thighs on that chair, or soak into the undersides of her breasts. Whenever she would sputter out a rivulet or glob of saliva while opening her maw to eat or speak, she could feel a slight shudder run up her spine.

The porn site had everything under the sun, or so it seemed at first, most of the categories making little sense to her. However, as she continued to look for something to indulge, she realized something. All of the videos and images were of women. Sometimes they were just one woman, sometimes many, sometimes it was a point of view shot but always from that of the fairer sex. Where was the cock?!

Marisse felt herself snort in disgust, but found her eyes lingering over those supple curves, the smooth legs of those thin, well kempt women. If only she could grind herself against something as silky smooth as that woman's flesh then she-

What?

The thought, much like everything else happening to her, was completely natural. Her thighs clenched as she felt herself tense pleasurably at the fantasies rolling in her mind, almost uncontrollably so. Her fingers dipped between her thickened nether lips, finding them dewy and slightly sticky, something she had not been accustomed to before. In reality, the changes she was experiencing were to thank for that, her body effectively producing more of any type of mucus or liquid, along with, well, seemingly everything else be it hair, weight, or melanin.

But Marisse did not care. Her eyes locked onto a video of two Asian women scissoring on a large King size bed inside some fancy looking hotel room, her eyes glazing over as she starting snorting and grunting, her hand working harder as she slipped inside herself or paused to grind her large, rough greasy thumb over her clit hungrily. This pattern repeated over and over, the woman coming in and out of orgasm like some sort of stupor. It was not until she finally glanced down at the clock that she realized it was already almost half past 3pm! Like a teenage boy discovering porn for the first time, she had blown away the majority of her day indulging her sex drive and still was unsatiated, unaware that her libido was much like her appetite. Essentially, if she had food or erotica in front of her, she would indulge in it almost compulsively, though not without any control, at least some of the time.

The miasma of sweat, gas, and pussy that hung around her was like the scent of roses to the warped girl, absentmindedly hilling off, tweaking her clitty and plunging one or two fingers into her sopping gash, every so often giggling dazedly. Only the timer broke her from her lustful reverie, reminding her that there was still work to be done.

Even if she didn't want to do it, failing would result in her getting dragged somewhere else... She wouldn't be able to finish herself off if she did. If she worked, she could... Enjoy herself a bit more, and who knows... Maybe she'd get a reward. More and more she looked forward to them with her addled mind - instant gratification mixed with the vague desire to be rewarded for a job 'well' done made them seem sweet as honey.

Pulling her fingers from her pussy, nudging her thighs together to keep herself... Ready in the meantime, she drags them across her keyboard and heads into the start menu, booting up one of the games she'd been banned from and hopping on to another account. There were dozens set up for her - after all, JadeTech wasn't dumb. They had to expect her to get banned...

'<What great foresight.>' she mentally notes, of course in Cantonese.

A lithe, sylvan Elf popped into the game world, rattling off the same message as before for all the hub-world to see. A wry grin spread across her lips as she went into the options and turned on 'windowed' mode. She could recall seeing it... Back when she could easily read English, but got lost a few times before she found it again.

She resized it to cover one half of her screen, and dragged her browser to cover the other - she was multitasking! Part of her felt... Proud of this sense of industriousness. She reclined in her seat again, looking at the blurry little chat window for the telltale color of a PM to pop up and watching her little counter climb as she idled, every so often using the hand that wasn't busy delving into her cunt to move her slim little avatar so that she wouldn't get kicked for being away from her keyboard... She wasn't going to be away for a long, long time.

A few hours pass - it's only a half-hour after she begins that she cums, soaking her underwear liberally in her juices, a trumpeting fart accompanying the otherwise silent release. She doesn't stop until she's finished again, and again... By the time her quota draws near, she's shouting from her fourth climax, her chair is drenched and her stomach is rumbling again.

"Yes...~" she huskily, tiredly coos. "Done... Today...~"

Immediately her hand slips from her underwear and reaches for her food... But pauses. Her hand is completely glazed... A little pruny too, and is simply radiant with the reek of her cunt. Another wry, lustful grin spreads across her lips as she pulls it back toward her face, licking it off and thrumming contentedly.

The part of her that felt disgusted for doing all of this to the sight... And to the thought of other women was slowly quieted. She justifies it that it's all she had... But it's certainly more than that, and getting even more profound with every moment she spends... Indulging.

Unlike last time, the responses she was getting in the game from other players made little sense. Unaware that it was a problem on her in, in her ability to actually understand it, it left Marisse feeling like she was dealing with idiots, furthering her stereotype against Western players.But that snide confidence sent a flutter of arousal that burned lightly in the pit of her stomach. Knowing she was better than these other people, it was a turn on in of itself. Perhaps it was a defense mechanism to manage her current situation, that or a product of her changes. It was hard to say. But in either case she definitely was developing a sexual connection to her own ego.

Realizing that she was sitting there slack jawed, drooling slightly over her fattened lip and onto her collarbone, she slurped noisily back into focus, the noise making her blush slightly both in embarrassment and in arousal once more. Was she so much a mess that she was practically defaulting to such a slovenly state? The taste of her own cum still lingered on her tongue.

Somewhere, in the back of her mind, an flicker of concern was blooming. She was still slightly aroused, like some sort of perpetual baseline that she would never fully escape, in spite of climaxing four times already. And they were not even casual orgasms, but body wracking, time distorting explosions that sent her into load moaning, yelling climaxes that rocked her world. The animal that was her sexuality had been awakened and it seemed like it too was a glutton of a pig.

There was a thud from the wall in front of her, accompanying by muffled moaning. Now Marisse finally understood the noises. If everyone else was like her, corrupted and twisted by this foul place, perhaps everyone around her was also imprisoned by their own compulsive need to masturbate. The horror of it was lost on her however as the realization spawned images of masturbating women in her mind, making her hand slip down absentmindedly between her legs once again before she drew it back.

With her quota fulfilled though, there was nothing left to do but eat, get off, and sleep. So effectively the same as she had been doing all afternoon. Even though she had spent all day glued to her chair, she was not sore or even cramped, asides from the ache of her physiological transformation of course. As she leaned over to grab for her dinner she heard the sickening suction of her skin peeling off the cheap seat in front of the table slightly, releasing more pent up stink into the air. The package of noodles was cold and greasy, but satisfying enough for now. The computer was her only activity now, so naturally she turned back to it.

This time she turned on the porn without thinking about it, having it take up the right side of her screen. On the left she decided to look over her program files. After a moment she found an IRC program. She had heard about such things before, essentially just chat rooms that were more popular in the past than today, but, it was there for some reason right?

A day like this was exactly what she needed to get her head straight - there wasn't any need to stress over her previous failures... She'd put it out of her mind, take time to act like a good little puppet to JadeTech, calm down, and collect herself before trying again. She had a whole other half of the world to aid her, after all, and she had the gut feeling they'd be much more receptive to her cause.

Marisse gave a mix between a moan and a sigh, minimizing her game. It could keep running and she'd get a few hits to her quota for the next day - she didn't need to talk to everyone, after all. Then, tomorrow, she'd just have even more time to get off! Or... Escape. Yeah, that.

She slurped up a bundle of noodles, using the fresher sauce upon them to re-moisten that which was congealing in the higher reaches of the box, leaning in toward the computer again, her shifting ass giving a blast of fluctuating pitch. Her eyesight was much poorer today than it'd been the last time, and the fact she was suffering through it without the glasses this time wasn't making it any better.

The IRC program had a familiar icon - a letter with a fedora on it, one she could recall seeing during one of her earlier days. Her memories now largely consisted of... Shapes, sounds, sensations, rather than words or thoughts. Even her mind's eye was growing blind.

Her laptop fan gave an almost angry roar as it booted up yet another program... Or, rather, several in succession. Five windows popped up, reading 'CONNECTING...' in English, but disappearing quicker than she could read them. Proxies, most likely, to keep her and anyone else using it from being stumbled upon and traced. Just who else was on here that'd require that much security?

Jade130012 has connected.

Jade115491: <Scammed the pig good. Wanted to know if I was legit - what idiot sees our spam and thinks we're giving them a good offer? Stupid westerners.>

Jade114142: <I wouldn't complain. We wouldn't get any work done if they weren't so stupid.>

Jade115491: <Agreed, sister.>

Jade122313: <Guess who just found out a certain someone has a mistress! It'd be a shame if his wife found out, no?>

Jade114142: <Pics?>

Oh, god. Was this... This was a channel for people like her. No, no - people who worked for JadeTech. The... Spammers, hackers, whoever they were. Were they people who'd been kidnapped like her? Were they actual employees? It... They were actual people, and she'd been investigating JadeTech anyway... It'd be best to treat them like they were serious about their jobs.

Jade130012: hi

Reflexively, she posts in English. Seeing those two letters, surrounded by characters of a language she'd begun to find more... Comfortable, made her cringe a little.

Jade130012: <Sorry. Used to English. Hello.>

It's... A bit difficult to structure the sentences, even for the knowledge she'd gained of the language. She wrote slowly and clumsily, trapped in the border of learning one language and forgetting another.

The longer she chatted with these other women, the faster her keystrokes became, her fingers gliding over the keyboard with a growing familiarity as her mind continued to almost magically rewired to better understand it while further distancing itself from an ability to speak solid English. Of course, she was making significant amounts of typos, grammatical errors, and the like, but she was learning fairly quickly.

Jade115491: <Hello there. You new? Or just finally cave in?>

Jade114142: <Gotta be the latter, how else would she understand any of this.>

Jade115491: <Yo, you understand any of this or not?>

It was a strange sensation. It was clearly not English, it did not look English, but the familiarity that Cantonese was taking in her brain gave it the same feel as English. It made sense in that quite literally her brain was being rewritten, so it was relatively the same information in the same place, just a new language. As such, it also explained why her memories were so foreign to her, as those memories were still encoded in English, which no longer made much sense to her. Marisse looked at the screen, watching the words drift in and out of familiarity much like how one can repeat a word too many times until it's just a sound, but slightly in the reverse.

Unfortunately for Marisse, everything she was doing to clear her head was actually only serving to make it worse. Her constant masturbation throughout the day only rose her heartrate, circulating her combo of drugs all the more while stimulating the pleasure and addictive centers of her brain and effectively luring the medication to it like a moth to a flame. Everything seemed to be tying back to her lidibo in some fashion. It was almost like she was a man! The chuckle she had expected from her old self did not come.

More pounding came from above her this time, the ceiling creaking ominously from the force. Someone was having a good time.

Turning back to the keyboard, the conversation had pressed on without her.

Jade122313: <Of course I have pics, but I ain't trading that shit without someone else to reciprocate. ;)>

Jade115491: <Yeah yeah, we'll get you some pussy pics one day, like you don't have enough of that on the computer anyway right?>

Jade122313: <lmfao>

Jade114142: <lol>

They seemed to know one another. How long had they been locked away here? Were they really like her? The questions continued to flow the longer she sat there, her chain of thought only interrupted as she let out another bombastic fart. Had she been paying more attention to those eruptions she might have noticed that she was beginning to have problems holding such expulsions back, be it flatulence or burping. It was like she was losing her ability to self control even those basic things. But it was not like she cared much, even her more rational section of her twisting persona knew she liked doing it, so she probably would not hold it back even if she could. Leaning in towards the screen she watched the conversation unfold some more.

Every time Marisse moved she could feel her panties squelch about her crotch and ass crack, the sweat and nectar soaked garments a perverse mockery of what underwear should be about. Seeing as she had nothing else to wear, it was that or going on naked. But, there was something alluring about wearing that underwear. It was almost a trophy, a demonstration of just how vile she had, and was, becoming, alongside the testament to her champion-like sexual stamina. Over the day her pubic hair had actually grown, her follicle stimulation seemingly permanently spiked. While it was nothing superhuman, what had been stubble before and short curls this morning was becoming a rather unshaved, untamed bush that collected quite a bit of her own cum.

Most of the conversation were sex innuendos, usually not too clever, as well as general venom against the West, or one upping each other's comments. It was oddly philial in a way.

Jade122313: <Think she passed out or something?>

It took Marisse a moment to realize that the person was talking about her.

She didn't struggle to come up with a response - she snapped back quickly.

Jade130012: <Not a chance, just busy. Let's just say it's not with work!>

She raggedly chuckles at this. Innuendo... Just like them, and just like she wanted.

Jade122313: <Right on!>

Jade115491: <Nice, new girl.>

Their positive response was... Welcome. It was like a reward in itself. It didn't take any drug JadeTech could give her that made her want to be... One of the girls; just part of a group in general. That was just human nature.

Jade129980: <Bet you're chugging through the links they gave you, right? All vanilla shit. No offense to you, sister.>

What? What'd she mean by that? It was... It certainly wasn't her norm, if that's what she was implying.

Jade130012: <Vanilla?>

Jade122313: <Boring. How can you stand it?>

Jade130012: <It's new to me, actually... And it's all I have.>

Jade129837: <Great, we've got a luddite.>

What followed was a few minutes of silence... A silence that filled Marisse with a sense of uneasiness, though that could've just been gas. It wasn't just she'd dropped off the topic of conversation - it was that all conversation stopped.

Jade130012: <Did I say something wrong?>

A moment later, she got her answer - she didn't. There were only about 6 or so of her 'sisters' in the room, and all of them returned with a flood of links. Links to sites, galleries, single images, even a few folders for her to download. Part of her felt... Honored, even if the cause of it was that they all gave her presumably fetish porn.

Jade129980: <Thank us later. Just don't spend too much time with it.>

Jade130012: <Don't worry about me, I can multitask.> ;)

Her fan again protested as she filled up her browser with a handful of tabs, all to contain the... Donation she'd been given. She didn't take time to look at any of them just yet, though, simply getting them up and stored for later. She prepares to open one of the folders when she hears a knock at the door and a soft thump - easily discerned from the thumping coming from upstairs.

Marisse is loathe to part herself from her chair, and resultingly her new friends and new porn, but simply has to. Her skin once again gives a sound not unlike velcro as it's pulled from the sticky chair, bones popping and cracking with every subtle movement, rubbing her eyes as if she'd just gotten up. A fart spills from her ass without her needing to force it, and a belch rises from her throat, forcing her to pat it to satiate the faint burning of the spicy chicken coming back up.

There was something about letting out that gas as she went about her business that was even more erotic to her than just the act alone. That lack of control, that complete disregard of social expectation. She had become such a slob she freely jettisoned whatever was pent up without a second thought. Granted, it was becoming nearly uncontrollable, and likely would be given time, but that did not matter. The sheer deviancy from the Western ideal was profound. It was an addiction in of itself, and given how her own gaseousness seemed to becoming more frequent by the day anyway, it was a feature that she found herself almost embracing. Her stomach sloshed and wobbled with each footfall, the jiggle moving from her breast to stomach to ass, just a bit more than there was when she had awoken that morning.

Marisse was actually starting to enjoy herself.

Opening the door she found another bag. Inside was a bunch of stuff, much more than the meager candy bar from last time. Bending down to grab the bag, and feeling her stomach spill over her still sopping panties, she closed the door and went back into the room without even thinking about escaping for a change. She swept away the empty cartons and bottles on the table with a snort of annoyance before plopping the bag onto the exposed, but slightly food stained table surface. All the while the conversation in the chatroom continued to ping without her.

The first thing that Marisse pulled out of the bag was a new pair of glasses. They were pretty thick, the frames black and made of cheap plastic, although the lenses were real enough, even if they did resemble magnifying glasses. Next was a box of those candy bars, like the kind that grocery stores put on shelves to stock an item in bulk. Great. After that she pulled out what looked to be a small bottle of lotion. There was no label on it, but the soft shelled container looked like it only held a few ounces. Lastly, Marisse found a clean, but slightly small looking cheap white tank top. She was officially one step closer to being fully clothed.

Another ping prompted her to look back at the chat window. Marisse found herself grunting, chuckling, or even verbally responding to her peers even though no one could hear her. She must have looked deranged out of context. Along with this phenomenon, throughout the day Marisse's voice box had been expanding slowly, making her voice even huskier and less feminine than before. At this point no one that had known her before her kidnapping would have recognized her voice whatsoever, even disregarding the heavy Cantonese accent she had been developing throughout the day as well.

Jade129980: <Hey new girl, how fucked up is your English yet?>

Jade115491: <Yeah, try typing some English, I wanna see just how far our new comrade has fallen.>

Jade114142: <Oh boo hoo, can't speak American Pig language, big whoop.>

Jade115491:<Fuck, I hope they give us voice chat some point soon. Maybe we should add each other on Skype?>

Jade114142: <And give the Western shitlords our information. No way!>

Another thick fart erupted from her ass, those noodles making her way through her system pretty quickly at this point. She had not even realized the sun had already set.

She actually laughed at the tank-top - it was too little, and comically too late. At this point she was more than comfortable being nude, which she suspected they wanted her to be... But, if it ever got cold, it'd be a good thing to have. A growing part of her mind remarked that it was just one more thing she could make hers... One more thing she could make as dirty as she is.

As she tugs it on, it gives her the result she expected: it was too small for her, constraining her breasts and chubby curves, outlining them perfectly with as skintight as it was, and allowing a few inches of her chubby, stubbly belly to stick out.

Almost amorously, she pats it. "<Don't want to stay in, do you? Well, fine. Have it your way.>"

The next thing she dons are the glasses - the last time she tried them on, they actually helped. Why they did, she didn't bother thinking about, but just chalked it up to strain from staring at a computer for most of her waking day. They worked, like the tank-top, exactly as expected, though this time it was a delight that they did. She takes a quick look around the room, finally able to see across to the other side of it... Well, she wasn't exactly missing anything when she was having trouble seeing.

Regardless, she keeps them on, as they help her see her screen better. Now she didn't have to lean in; she could recline to her heart's content. Not to say she'd stop slouching any time soon.

Seeing as she'd already polished off two of her boxes of food, she figures dessert is in order - one of the candy bars, the one she'd found with her initial bag of food. In addition... She brings over the bottle of vodka, looking at it longingly. All day, her eyes had been... Drawn to it. She'd licked her lips, her heart had started beating, and... She didn't know why. Did she really want to try it that badly? She had no idea of the already-cemented addition worming about in her head.

After polishing off the candy, loosing a long burp thereafter, she twists off the top of the bottle and takes a tentative sip. It burns her throat, clears out her sinuses and leaves a bitter taste in her mouth... But she smiles. She never drank before, and now she has no idea why. It was pretty good! She takes another sip before getting on the chat again, chuckling with glee.

Jade130012: hi girl want fuckign burger???

Jade123310: <lol>

Jade130008: <It's like I'm actually talking to an American.>

Jade130012: <And I still know more than half the players I've scammed. I think I might be the only exception to how unconditionally stupid westerners are.>

It was... Odd, lumping herself in with the rest of them; the rest of the west. It was like willingly getting into the group of the slow kids in class.

Jade114112: <You? A westerner? I doubt it.>

Jade129980: <Who'd want to be, anyway?>

Marisse doesn't have to take a second to respond.

Jade130012: <Not me.>

She takes another drink of her vodka and turns away from the screen for a moment, picking up the small bottle of lotion. What was it supposed to do, and how was she supposed to use it, anyway? The bottle was blank - not even any Cantonese to guide her. Tentatively, she opens the bottle and squeezes a tiny bit out onto her fingers, rubbing them together and bringing it to her nose, taking a quick sniff.

Already her undershirt had grown damp with sweat, most noticeably under her arms, where the white color had turned a dark grey. If it did anything of value, it was keep her hair from sticking to her - now the long, black, greasy tresses rested imply upon it, only clinging wetly to her head rather than her neck and shoulders. The thicker areas of her pubes had already begun to peek over the tight waistline of her stained, crusty panties, every so often scratched at.

The lotion carried the aroma of what almost smelled like a mixture of coconut and almond. In other words, it was pretty conventional stuff. Marisse found her nose wrinkling at it, like the smell was not worthwhile anymore .It was not that it smelled bad to her. No, if anything it was pleasant and slightly nostalgic in some respects. But it was the emotion that came with it that bothered her. It was so conventional, just another slick marketing ploy for everyone to doll up and give into the American fist of conformity. Still, lotion was lotion, maybe it would be worthwhile? Given how little she got from her captors,there was little point in outright discarding it after all.

It did not take long before the vodka started to make itself known in her system, the heavy buzz of the alcohol tingling at her judgment and further impairing her thoughtful decisions. It felt good though, to just let go. Much like everything else she had been doing today, there was a certain sense of freedom in drinking. Of course it was bad for her, but who gave a shit? She was enjoying herself. There was plenty of crap going on in her life right now, why should she not indulge herself? There was no argument from her more rational side this time.

The constricting tank top quickly grew damp in her own sweat, working as an ill fated wash rag before becoming oversaturated over the following hours. Combined with the drippings of sauce and the like, the shirt was quickly "hers" before she even went to sleep. Having the shirt on put her slovenliness into context, making her seem even less sightly than without it.

Marisse was not sure how long she chatted with the rest of those women, assuming they were women, but by the time she started to feel drowsy the foot traffic outside had perked up a bit, as if it was approaching early morning. Damn, and she still had her quota for today.

She spent her night much like she'd spent her day - her character idling in the game, occasionally switching to another one to make herself seem less conspicuous, chatting with her newfound friends and moving her hands between her dwindling supply of food and her pussy. Empty boxes, bottles, and candy wrappers littered her table and a few had spilled down to her floor as well. The lotion joined them, lost in the trash.

The porn she'd been given... Well, if the stuff JadeTech provided was exotic to her, this was completely new stuff entirely. A good portion of it was drawn, and absolutely _had_to be to get across some of the things they depicted... Bodies couldn't do half the things they were doing. She only took a few tentative glances at them before hiding them... Rather than refuse them entirely, she figured she just wasn't ready for them now.

Otherwise, she felt like she was... Getting to know the others in the room, feeling like she was a part of it like all the rest. They were funny, and she knew damn well how much she needed human contact that didn't end with her getting backstabbed or gassed by JadeTech.

It wasn't that she'd begun to get tired just as morning came - she'd been sorta groggy all day, and if she'd climbed back into her sticky bed she'd likely have slept for the rest of the day. What brought her attention to just how long she'd been up was that she'd begun to actually drift off. Her head bobbed a little, eyelids hung heavy, and a bit of drool dribbled from her slack jaw.

Her Cantonese grew a bit sloppier over the day, especially as she drank - some of the others who popped in and out of the room seemed to be in the same state.

Jade130012: <Falling asleep. Drunk. Going away for now.>

Jade108412: <Aww! See you tomorrow, sister ;) >

Jade123314: <Sleep it off - just take a few pills in the morning.>

Jade130008: <Want to play something tomorrow?>

Play? What, did she mean the games? All they had were spam accounts... Well, all she had were spam accounts. Did the others have something different?

Jade130012: <How?>

Jade123310: <You have much to learn, sister!>

Jade130008: <Just make an account like normal. They can't stop you from doing that. It's more fun than just using it to idle, y'know? Most of us play it, just post your character here. See you then~ >

Sighing, she rises from her chair and smiles. She... Had something to look forward to, tomorrow. Before she goes to bed she grabs a candy bar to bring with her and quickly checks tomorrow's quota... It looks like she was almost halfway done. Short of her sleeping the whole day away, she'd have ample time to finish her quota... Then maybe take the others up on their offer. Even if she ended up getting backstabbed in the end... It was actually pretty fun playing the game for once.

With a grin, she plops into bed, her body jiggling from the sudden fall, and the metal frame creaking dangerously. Even though she hadn't touched it all day, it still felt a little bit moist. With a plastic crinkle, she opens the candy bar and pulls the rough covers over her body.

"Hmph." she grumbles, taking a bite of it. "<Welcome to the family, indeed.>"

Overnight her arousal left her dreams perverse and her slumber restless, leaving her to wake up slightly groggy. Her head still felt like it was swimming from the vodka last night, but there was no true hangover. Throughout the night the candybar she had eaten had taken its toll on Marisse's frame, thickening it out further with the calories punch and another cross against her metabolism in the long run. Ultimately she did not end up that much fatter, but rather she looked more out of shape, as if the fat in her body was truly "settling" into her body and planning to stay there for quite some time.

It was clear at this point that Marisee was not going to go back to her normal self ever again. Even if she did somehow turn around her changing personality and get her lifestyle back in order, she was biologically built towards a certain level of disgustingness that would never leave her again. The irony was that the most wealthy aspect of Jadetech was solely used to fuel its other business. Had they actually utilized this amazing technique of transforming people, they could easily dominate the international economy. But, for now, they seemed content with turning women's bodies and minds into their own self regulated prisons.

The candy bar also continued to wreck through her digestive system some more, making her even more gassy, bringing her to almost a perpetual state of farting and belching and the like. Her body now seemed to constantly churn it up, at least to some extent. Throughout the evening the room fogged over with the reek of her own flatulence, further turning her on in her sleep while her own odor ingrained into what seemed to be her new home.

By the time that she woke up she was soaked in a fresh slathering of sweat, her bladder was full from all the vodka she had taken in over night, and her mattress was all the more soiled by it all. Had she looked into a mirror she would have seen that her eyes had fully shifted to an Eastern influence, the upper lid losing its fold while her wide, broad nose and protruding lower part of her face made her look distinctly more southwestern Asian than the traditional Chinese/Japanese descent. Her full lips, slightly bucked teeth and rounded face had stripped away the graceful features that her cheekbones or eyes could have offered. Likewise her mane of black hair was both thicker and longer, leaving it more knotted and tangled than before, giving her an exceptional case of bed hair that was unlikely to go away without just plain cutting it. She would find that the hair on her body elsewhere had grown in longer and thicker as well, even spreading outwards more than before, like some sort of radiating infection. Little curls had sprouted up around her nipples and the like while what was already there on her body was filthy from the constant sweat and grime of her newfound habits.

At least she was still in the same room.

A heavy thud game from the door, "<Payment!>" The familiar crinkle of plastic slide against the door before her daily bag rattled against the floor.

Marisse woke just a bit more easily this morning. It wasn't like she'd gotten up on the _right_side of the bed this time, or that she woke up any less groggy, but this morning consciousness didn't return with the gut-twisting feeling of regret or failure. Scratching her ass, covered in more than just stubble now, and letting loose a belch reeking of her halotic breath, she tosses her legs over the side of the bed and rises.

She's of course greeted to a few pops and cracks, but nowhere near as many as she'd experienced in the past few days. Her body; her bones didn't change at all overnight, and that too left her without the sensation of stiffness. She did feel a few cramps coming on - her muscles, both naturally and artificially, were beginning to experience atrophy.

This, and changes to her respiratory system, were especially clear as she made it to the other side of the room. She was... Panting a little, like she was out of breath, even if it wasn't that long of a walk. Even if she did escape, she likely wouldn't make it far on foot.

Opening the door greeted her to another large sack like yesterday's - a ton of everything she needed to get through the day. The fact that this was her... Payment just hit her, one part realizing they weren't much paying her with anything else... And the other because she could finally understand what the guy bringing it was saying.

It found a place on her table just atop all the trash from the day prior, displacing empty bottles and boxes she didn't bother to pick up. As she'd done all this, she'd been doing it... Mostly blind. She'd left her glasses on top of her closed laptop, nabbing them as soon as she set out a new box of takeout for herself, and thereafter opening her computer.

Today... Wasn't really a big day, in terms of importance, but at least she had something to do. She firstly booted up the first game she'd played - just for the sake of finishing her quota, and spend the morning doing exactly that... And checking out her 'sisters' kind contributions. She was finding that some of their choices... Weren't bad, not at all.

The images that she was presented with, while still strange and exotic, did not have the shock factor that they had the previous night. Indeed, somewhere in her mind, that stew of drugs had corrupted her tastes all the more, desensitizing what turned her on somewhat while pushing her towards the extreme with renewed enthusiasm. Of course she would always be horny, that swtc had been flipped on in her mind and then broken off so it could not be flipped back off, but she was just too into herself, and people with her sorts of attributes and personalities, that everything else just seemed dull or stupid. While her pussy was practically dripping non stop, her tastes had shrunk down to almost stereotypically neophobic and classist standards.

As she looked over the porn she realized that each person did have slightly different tastes, as evident by their little packages. Some of them were into really fat women, others into tentacle stuff, others anthro creatures. For Marisse though, she found herself gravitating to the disgusting and the ugly, the more of it the better. There was a good few of them in the collection, but it was not enough. Instead it lead her on a search online, sending her deeper and deeper into the armpit of the internet where she found increasingly more depraved and extreme works that fit her newfound interests.

This of course lead her back into the feverish haze of compulsively masturbating again .Overnight she found that her pussy had changed somehow, not that it surprised her at this point. While she was not fully aware of everything that was happening to her, it was obvious that they were changing her from the inside out. In this case, her vagina was wetter than ever, thick honey dewing about her thicket of a bush, sopping at her underwear and the chair beneath her and reeking of her own arousal. When she would come to climax she found herself squirting heavily into the thoroughly ruined cloth.

The respiratory changes she had incurred were indeed growing more profound. While she could still breath, she found herself panting, grunting, snorting and even wheezing for air from time to time, her cardiovascular system having turned to that of a decades long chronic couch potato at this point. She found that she had to breath out of her mouth most of the time, leaving her easily drooling as she sat in front of the computer. Similarly she found that the bag was stuffed with more food than yesterday, furthering to entrench her in the sedentary lifestyle.

As she moved about unpacking everything she felt the hair under her arms and between her legs rustle against the soiled cloth of her outfit. Her pubes were clearly visible, puffing out her panties slightly as well as curling out of the waistband. The hair, having spread outwards, could now be easily seen from the leg holes of the underwear, that thicket of a bush having blossomed into a larger shrub evidently, spreading even backwards between her ass cheeks and the like.

It was not until she noticed that it was 1:30pm already that she went back to multitasking mode once again.

The fact noon was marching by didn't phase her as much as it should - the night was still young, yet. She had at least until four in the morning until she was ready to go to bed, after all. It wasn't all work she'd been doing during that time, either. Her quota was just under half-way fulfilled yesterday, so that just gave her more dedicated time to masturbate.

She chugged quite quickly through the porn she'd been supplied... Finding it all just as the others had described it - vanilla, boring... Hot, but too tame and reserved. Eventually she gave up on it altogether. She more-studiously delved into her recent contributions, the links and folders... Some were interesting by virtue of their kinkiness, some by virtue of uniquety... Some from the voyeuristic thrill of knowing that the images were pulled right off of someone's private computer by one of her new 'sisters'. Part of her even envied them... Wanting to be able to bring someone else the new, sick kind of pleasure she was feeling.

Marisse quickly closed the game she'd been using to run up her quota - she had one or two hits for the next day, but she didn't care how many she got today. She could spend all day next day working... She almost wanted to. Plus, she didn't want to clog up her CPU while she was playing something on_her_ time!

She booted up Warcraft as per usual... But this time, instead of selecting one of the gibberish accounts, she created a new one. It took a good half-hour before she decided on her character... There was so much that went into it. Race, class... She didn't know anything about this, but the fact that it was something... Fun, and that her new friends were playing too, that made her want, more than anything, to learn.

She picked... An Orc. A ghastly, angry, ugly, beast of a woman... So deliciously contrarian. Even if it wasn't presented, she could almost smell her sweat, see the greasy sheen on her green skin... She couldn't keep her hands off of herself. Not being one for magic, she just settled on being a warrior. Hitting shit into next tuesday aught to give her a few laughs, however nasally and marred with snorting they may be.

Throwing the game into a smaller window, she pops back into channel with her... Sisters. She supposed they were, in a way.

Jade130012: <Morning! Anyone want to play?>

Jade122313: <About time you joined!>

Jade130012: <Yeah, yeah. I'm... Ovani Fotak, in the game. Can you do anything with that?>

Jade130000: wwwwwwwww

Jade112784: <lol>

Jade130012: <What?>

Jade122313: <I didn't know you knew Orcish already.>

Jade130012: <I don't.>

Jade100313: <Then it's even funnier!>

Much of what they said was going far, far over her head - it was clear that they didn't just play the game just to pass the time, they dedicated themselves to it. They knew it inside-out, story and gameplay, all of it... But they didn't hold it over her head much. They all tried to teach her as best they could... And all the while, she started to see just why they loved it so much.

She whittled away hours, playing with them, joining a little guild they'd set up for themselves... Even doing things in-character, even if she was really clumsy with it all. In-game, she was every bit the brash, foul-mouthed and generally foul beast she was on the other side of the computer, occasionally taking a sip of vodka and a bite of takeout, and not-so-occasionally perfuming the room with her sudden, wet belches and farts.

Time was a fickle thing for the corrupted woman. Easily she would lose herself to the mind numbing pleasure of whatever caught her focus for the time, only to find that she had been much less efficient about her task than she had anticipated. The good thing was that her "job" was not all that dependent on her or her work ethic so much as she was needed as a warm both. In the end, Marrise was granted the life of a woman that would likely spend more time lounging about on her ass than anything else for the rest of her life, and she would not have it any other way.

The world loaded up and Marisse was greeted with her orcish character standing in very little armor. But, it was novel to her, and that more than made up for her beginner's set. It made sense to her that they would be so dedicated. Asides from porn and Netflix, what else was there for them to do in their free time. She did not even know how long the group had been imprisoned, let alone how quickly they got on board with Jadetech's agenda.

What had already become a rather rotten personality was only further fueled by the anonymity of the online game world. While in good spirits with her comrades, who helped her out, the lot of them quickly trolled, harassed, or berated anyone stupid enough to linger in their presence for long. There was little point in thinking about the outside world when she clearly had reign over in this one. It also helped that a couple of the girls pulled in their max leveled spam bots to power level her through much of the early game content, as well as give her seemingly limitless in game currency.

This went on for quite a while until suddenly a pop up cut into the center of the screen. It was a Skype call. Marisse realized it must have been left on somehow. Likely part of the western marketing/spyware scheme so many mainstream programs used today, or so she thought. A small icon in the image showed her sister's face, smiling in the classic posed camera picture sort of way. Marrise paused from the game for a second, telling her friends that she was going afk for a moment, before she quickly searched around the heaping pile of garbage she had accumulated throughout the day for her headset. She had one in every other room, so she figured she had knocked it on the ground or something.

All the while the blip ring of the Skype call continued.

Finally, plugging the headset jack into the audio slot, she clicked accept.

"Hello? Are you there?"

The voice rang through her head, disarming her momentarily. Trouble understanding or not, she knew her sister's voice. And for a minute, she longed for home again. Well, she _thought_she longed for home. Did she? She thought about it. What was there to go back to anyway? Corporate America and the Western rigged game of misery? Living a life of wearing makeup and holding back her thoughts, or gas? Psh, fuck that.

"Please, if you're there answer."

Still, her sister was still her sister. Maybe she was an ignorant pig, but she was Marisse's pig. Plus, maybe she could educate her sister and convert her to the correct side of the world...Marisse looked up at the screen to see that her sister's camera was on, although Marisse only had her audio plugged in.

Her options of communication were limited - now more than ever. If she typed out a response, it'd be more than just broken, and likely wouldn't fare any better. Of course, she didn't know this, or even really care. All she wanted to do was to get this over with so she can go back to playing with her real sisters.

A part of her cringed, as she thought that. She... Even if her memories of her sister were alien now; incomprehensible, they still bore positive connotations. They were still good, and so long as they bore her sister's face, they'd stay that way.

A twinge of regret is lost in her voice, warbled and rough as it was, even before being filtered through her new accent and malformed teeth.

"No tiym." she begins. "Tu layt nao." What she wants to say is for her sister to contact her later, to push this off indefinitely... But the effect may differ, heard from an unfamiliar voice on her sister's end.

"Look -urrp- Jayde-tek." If her sister could provide the logs from Skype, and was smart enough to record this conversation (Marisse doubted it), she'd be able to use them against the company. After all, it'd been accused dozens of times before - it aught to seem suspicious. The reason it was never convicted dropped from Marisse's mind, of course. In all likelihood, JadeTech would find her first.

Rather than hear her sister's rambling, she cuts off the call early. Her hands lingered on the greasy mouse and keyboard for a moment afterward, her gut twisting in a feeling that, for once, wasn't hunger or indigestion. She felt like she made a mistake. No part of her wanted to feel this way, so quick as a flash she returned to her game. It'd... Get her mind off of it. Some food wouldn't hurt, either...Maybe some vodka, or she could crack into those cigarettes.

The world was her oyster.