Overview

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I've had an idea at the back of my mind for a while about doing some RP with multiple partners on the public forum, and right now I feel like having both the time and will to make it happen. Not much, if any, backstory to this one, as the tittle says it would be me applying my skills next to the wall of a dingy room with holes in it and the willing participants at the other side of it. If there are fellas interested then DM me and will see if something can be made of it. Thank you for the attention ^^

Still open?

Laying there on the bed naked and spread apart, her pussy and tits so vulnerable, Rebecca never knew total fear as much as she did at this moment. He looked her over with lust in his eyes. She knew she would be raped soon and there was nothing she could do about it. Still, she struggled valiantly. Rebecca let out gagged' squeals as the crop stung her tits. She was still gasping as her eyes followed him to the table.....all sorts of horrible sadistic things were arranged in neat rows, She moaned, shaking her head. He brought over a set of shiny chrome nip;ple clamps and secured them to her tits. Rebecca let out a series of gagged' screams as she felt the cold metal teeth biting into her sensitive nipple flesh.....a connecting chain ran from the middle. 'Sex slave????....her .....MASTER?' NO, not THAT.....despite the pain from her tits, Rebecca twisted and bounced, trying to dislodge the clamps.

Jack’s brow furrowed as she shook her head, the response being a swift strike of the riding crop to her breast, hitting her nipple dead centre. It wasn’t hard enough to be outright painful, but it was enough to sting and draw her attention. Leaning over her, he stared intently into Rebecca’s eyes. “That won’t do,” he said with a low, sinister tone. “But you will learn.” Turning around, there stood a serving table behind him, on which various tools for this session had been prepared, from toys and clamps to further BDSM gear and other such things. Placing the crop down, he picked up a set of clamps. Coming full circle, he leaned over the bound girl once more. “From today onward, you are my sex slave, and I your master. That is your purpose as my property, and no, you don’t have a say in it.” And without much further ado, he firmly groped one of her soft breasts, fingers pushing deep into her flesh to keep it steady, despite what wiggling and resisting she might do, and with his other hand, he applied the clamp to her nipple. The small, jagged, metal teeth dug into her perky nipple, latching on firmly like a bloodsucking leech. The action was then repeated for the other breast, leaving her with two shiny clamps to torture her sensitive nubs, with no way for her to do anything about it.

The auctioneer described her in nauseating detail.....the size and shape of her tits, the fact she shaved her vagina, the contours of her ass.....as he took the bids, she struggled, her body gently swaying, her breasts jiggling. She knew she was arousing the bidders but that wasn't the reason for her movements....she HAD to get away from this nightmare!! Rebecca wondered how long it would be before her roommates noticed she was gone. It probably would be a while....all the girls were looking for potential male company. She heard the winning bid and looked out over the audience....all the bidders were still there, including one man in the front row thatg seemed to be gazing straight at her....it HAD to be him. Rebecca moaned as the masked speedo man reached up and released the straps from the ceiling and with one attempt, flung her over his shoulders. They came into an adjoining room....it was lined with cages, each one had a nude and gagged' girl inside. The cages were large metal transport cages meant for dogs.....the girls were forced in, made to hunch over on their knees. Their ankles and wrists were kept tied. As the padlock was put on Rebecca's cage door, she looked over at a cute redhead.....the girl was sobbing. As two men came to her cage, the redhead screamed as loud as the gag would allow, shaking her head....Rebecca and the other caged captives watched helplessly as the redhead was loaded on a flatbed truck, tied down and a tarp placed over the cage. They drove off, never to be seen again. The girls glanced over at each other....there must be over two dozen in the room....why hasn't anyone found them? What Rebecca hadn't known was that because it was Spring break, the girls were from all over, makin g it easy to kidnap; them. Her cage was loaded in a van and sped off. The drug she was injected with prior to transport kicked in quickly and she passed out. When she came to, she was in a plush ornate bedroom. Her arms behind her head, wrists cuffed to the headboard. Her ankles had a metal spreader bar locked in place, forcing her legs wide apart. The minute she woke up and stared at herself she began to struggle frantically. The man that purchased her was standing beside her with a black leather riding crop in hand. She shook her head in denial.

Jack didn’t particularly enjoy attending these sorts of… events. These actions were so pretentious, but it was how old money liked to do it, and as new money, he didn’t have much say in the matter, so he simply went along with it for as long as it served his needs. And his needs were of great depravity. Jack was by no means an unattractive man. Quite the opposite, even, being a thirty-seven-year-old man in great shape and blessed with good genetics, with sharp facial features, striking green eyes, and thick, straight, dark-brown hair dotted with a few silvery strands, cut and combed neatly. Ties were not his thing, so even now, dressed in a suit, he went without, leaving the top few buttons of his dress shirt undone, the edge of his toned chest to peek out. He sat quietly amongst the others, all donning masks to obscure their identity, as the girls were auctioned off one by one, his gaze only drawn by the last one, a shapely, young brunette with an ample bosom. Finally, after attending several of these auctions now, a woman who was worth making his own, to make his sex slave. The opening bid was 40k. No problem. He raised the small sign in his hand that had his action number on it. “I see 40k over here! Anyone going 42k?” Another entered bidding war. No matter. He’d go over it. And again. And again. “Sold for $51,000!” Good. He’d have her shipped to his private estate, a mansion in a rural area, just inside a lush forest. Private, secluded, unlikely to be disturbed, especially since the property was walled off. The nearest town was a ten-minute drive by car, and the nearest neighbour was almost just as far. Rebecca would be taken away, drugged again, and transported in secret while unconscious. Next time she would awake, she’d find herself in a bedroom. It was a nicely furnished bedroom, with a king-sized bed, one that she was bound to, hands cuffed and chained to the headboard, ankles cuffed and with a steel rod between them that kept her legs forcefully parted. She was gagged, the crude one from before replaced with a leather ball gag. Jack stood beside the bed, gazing down at her, his green eyes cold and calculating. He’d been given a rough timeframe for when Rebecca would awaken from her drug-induced slumber, so he’d been waiting for about fifteen minutes. “You’re awake. Good,” he said simply. “Do you understand the situation you’re in?” In his hand was a riding crop. Hovering it over her, he slowly placed the tip of it against the underside of one of her breasts. “Nod yes or no.”

22 year old Rebecca was sunning herself off during Spring break. The sun was bright, cloudless skies and the waves nearby almost put her to sleep. The stinking reminded her that she had run out of suntan lotion and it was time to grab another bottle back in the hotel room. Sure, they sold it right here on the beach, but she had to watch her finances, knowing the huge mark up. The attractive brunette dashed off in her yellow bikini, numerous pairs of eyes following her as she went past. The hotel room was usually occupied by 3 other girls but none were here at the moment. She went to the bathroom, found the bottle and was stopping to pick up some more money when a hand suddenly came out of nowhere, clamping firmly over her mouth, another around her waist. "Not one sound bitch," the male voice growled....."hate to damage the merchandise..." Another man came in, took off her bikini bottoms and forced them into her mouth, followed by layers of duct tape. Despite her frantic struggling Rebecca was forced on the floor and tied up. Soon a rag doused with chloroform was pressed over her nose and she passed out. The sounds of gagged' moans woke Rebecca up. She was naked, still gagged' and in some kind of semi darkened room along with 3 other girls, one she recognized from the same hotel just 2 doors down. Rebecca's arms were stretched over her head, wrists bound to a ceiling hook and her ankles tightly bound together...her more than ample tits jiggled as she fought. About a couple yards away was rows of chairs, all filled with finely dressed men and women while a topless girl went up and down the aisles serving drinks. A tall man in a tux gazed over the line up of naked struggling captives. "Ladies and gentlemen," he said..."welcome to tonight's auction. We have a select group of young ladies, all freshly taken for your consideration.....as always, once purchased, your selection will be caged and sent to wherever you wish..." The girls struggled valiantly but uselessly, their breasts swaying only serving to whet the buyer's appetites. Rebecca looked down the row where the first girl, a petite Asian was offered for sale. As the girl screamed through her gag, her dimensions were called out. "If you prefer girls with full pubic hair," the auctioneer said, "Youll love this one....most Asians have full mounds. She will make someone an ideal pet.....bidding will start at $20,000....." The Asian was bought and a masked man wearing only black latex speedos came up on the stage, reached up to release the girl's wrists, flung her over his shoulder and carried her off through a door at the end, the girl still kicking. One by one the girls were sold, Rebecca at the end. "We saved the best for last," the man said...."this incredibly sexy morsel was just captured.....measurements are 36-25-34. She's a natural brunette and as you can see, her pussy is shaved. She will make an excellent breeder with those gorgeous tits....she's a feisty little bitch but after extensive training will prove to be an ideal sex slave....bidding will start at $40,000...." Rebecca could hardly be;llieve what was happening.....one minute she was sunbathing on the beach...the next, she was gagged', nude bound and being sold like an animal in a pound.

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Consider making a preference sheet so people can figure out what you like ^^ its one of the options when you make a new post

New to this site, I cant really figure how it works, up for rp with milfs

Gerold was exhausted. He'd been riding since sunrise, with no destination in mind. The war with Avelinard was over, and the King was generous to his mercenaries; a rare treat. But Gerold's horse was barely plodding along now, and he agreed with it. But he wasn't relishing another night in the field. As if the gods had heard his prayers, around the next bend in the highway through the woods an inn appeared. The sign showed a Pikeman advancing, and the runes read 'Push Spears!' Huh. The owner must be a veteran, Gerold thought. Still, it was either this or roughing it again. At the stable, Gerold flipped the stableboy a couple of Coppers, grabbed his saddlebags, and headed to the door. The common room was not what Gerold expected. Instead of a gaggle of unwashed locals, the room was filled with an eclectic blend of races. Humans, Elves, Kitsune, Dwarves ... hell, there were races he'd never even heard of before in here. As he stood blinking in the light and the spectacle, the barmaid called out to him. She was a tall, staturesque Human woman with fiery red hair and a legendary bosom. "What's your pleasure, new blood," she asked. After a quick glance at the hearth, he answered, "A room, a bath, a joint, and Flip if you can do it. I've got coin." She smiled. "I can do all of that if you've got coin, and more." Glancing at a young woman standing off to the side, she said, "Meena, show this gentleman to his room and to the baths." "Yes Mistress," Meena stammered, and beckoned Gerold to follow her through a door in the back. As he got closer, Gerold realized that he'd been mistaken: Meena was not a girl, but a woman. Half-gnomish? Maybe. Meena was petite, but unarguably a woman with hazel eyes, freckles, and light brown hair in a ponytail. As she led him to his room, she pointed to a door to the left. "You can go in there for your bath, sir. Leave your clothes and goods in your room; they won't be bothered." That was extremely odd, and normally Gerold wouldn't have even considered doing that. But something about Meena made him trust her. So after stowing his gear, he padded naked down the all to the aforementioned door. Inside was a tub filled with clear, steaming water. In the corner was the washing bucket. As was polite, he started to wash himself before getting into the tub but after a few moments a pair of hands holding a cloth and soap reached around him from behind. "Let me, sir," he heard Meena say. Gerold decided to enjoy the attention, and Meena was thorough. She washed his hair, his back, and his legs. Foregoing the cloth, her small hand washed his ass and even gave his sack a few happy strokes. Turning to let her wash his front, he saw that she was now dressed only in bloomers and a leather apron. Embarassed, she kept her gaze downcast from his eyes but that only brought his cock into view. And it didn't hesitate to show how much he was enjoying her attention. After rinsing, soaking, and dressing in surprisingly clean and fresh clothing, Gerold returned to the common room and found a seat at a table that was apparently reserved for his use only. A generous portion of roasted beef, new potatoes, and carrots awaited him there, and Gerold dug in like a starving wolf. As he ate, the bartender was mixing the ale, egg, and spices for his drink. When he was finished and his plate cleared, she handed the mug to Meena and said, simply, "Serve him." Donning a heavy mitt, she took a loggerhead from the hearth and brought it and the drink to his table. She thrust the hot iron into the drink, which quickly boiled and hissed. The symbolism was lost on neither of them: Meena was blushing furiously now. Disposing of the iron, she proffered the mug to him. "Your drink, sir." Not taking his eyes from her, Gerold took a deep draught, swallowed, and let out a sign of contentment. At that, she looked up at him and met his eyes. "Was it to your liking, sir?" He smiled at her. "It is delicious, pretty." A spontaneous urge seized him just then, and he dipped his thumb into the foam and painted her lips with it. Meena's eyes widened in surprise, but after a moment she ran her tongue prettily over them. "Oh, my!" were her only words. Gerold glanced over to the barmaid, expecting a scolding at what he'd done. But to his surprise she was leaning on her arms on the bar, and the laces on her bodice had seemingly vanished in the last few moments. He could see the valley between her full breasts and she was clearly inviting him to gaze deeply. Stunned, he tore his gaze away and back to the serving girl. But instead of taking the opportunity to retreat, she stood gazing at him with those big, liquid eyes. "Please?" The bar had gone silent now. Every set of eyes was on him and Meena now. Gerold wasn't one for public displays. Certes, he tumbled a camp follower or two in the squad tents in his time, and stroked himself watching his mates do the same, but this was different somehow. And it both sickened and excited him to know that he was performing for all now. Dipping his two main fingers into the drink, he brought them to the servant's mouth. Meena blushed, but her bosom began to rapidly rise and fall as her lips parted slightly. Gerold touched his fingers to her mouth, and then pushed them past her lips. Unblinkingly, she began to suck them. The neck strings of her apron abruptly failed and it dropped down to her waist. Through her thin linen blouse, Meena's nipples began to push against the fabric. Gerold felt himself getting hard again, straining against his trousers. Meena noticed, and inhaled sharply. She blushed furiously, eyes growing wide at her own unexpected desire, but she moved between his legs and gazed up at him pleadingly. Decorum and modesty be damned. He pushed Meena to her knees. While she pulled at his trousers, he poured some of the Flip into his palm. His cock leapt up, gently smacking into her lips. She gasped, and he took a moment to paint the head and shaft with the sweet liquid. Holding himself with one hand and grasping her ponytail with the other, he guided her mouth to his cock. After a moment, she took him. For a moment, Gerold thought that she was a virgin, or at least inexperienced. She hesitated, touching him tentatively with her tongue. But then as if possessed by Lastai herself the girl leaned into the blowjob. Her tongue traced the ridges of the head, her lips stroked his shaft as she went down on him. She even used her teeth masterfully, scraping them against the sensitive flesh of his head and drawing a gasp of pure pleasure from him. After a few minutes, he knew that he was going to go into his mouth if he didn't do something, and Gerold had better places in mind. He reached down, lifted Meena by the hips, and sat her on the table. The heat and frenzy were taking them both now. With surprising strength she tore the shirt off his back, scoring his chest with her nails. He returned the favor, flinging the rags of her blouse to the straw-covered floor as he sucked her tiny nipples to hard points. Her skirts fell to him and her apron to her, and then Meena was lying nude on the table. Her small yet full breasts were holding their own against gravity. Her tiny waist led to curvy hips, and a neat tuft of chestnut curls covered her lovely mound. Meena parted her legs to his gaze, and the swollen ruby lips of her pussy drove all of the thoughts from his mind. He dove down on her, tongue splitting her lovely valley. And her folds responded to his mouth, swelling and parting to reveal that lovely flower of the women. He paused to enjoy the sweet pungency of her, and then began to work on the bud at the top of her sex. When her clitoris began to peek out he teasingly circled his prey, feinting an attack that drove her mad with expectation. She shivered into him, and he drank eagerly from her font. But Meena wasn't going to be a passive recipient. She squirmed around, and he desperately grasped for her waist, and the suddenly he was standing upright. Her hair, now unbound, tickled his thighs as her hands found his ass and her mouth his cock. Gerold could hear the patrons beginning to move, grunt, and groan now but he cared naught but for the serving girl's sweet pussy and her warm, wet mouth sucking him now. Neither of them lasted even a minute. She thrust her pussy against his face, grinding against his mouth and flooding him with her nectar as he shot into hers again and again. After a moment of confused acrobatics she'd flung her arms around his neck and hauled herself up for kisses, pressing her lovely tits into his chest, rubbing her nipples against his. To his shock, she fed him back his own cum; but after a moment they were sharing their juices between each other in a lusty frenzy. Gerold's cock didn't even bother to demand a break; he was still rock-hard and ready to go again. Laying Meena onto the table, he took a moment to look at the bartender. Her clothing had vanished as well, and she was sitting on the bar smiling at him whilst teasing her own sex with the neck of a wine bottle. As he watched, it began to slip in and out of her. Growling in pure lust, Gerold looked down to take the girl in front of him. But she squirmed free, clambering to her hands and knees and presenting her pussy to him. He didn't hesitate, grabbing her hips and thrusting his cock into her. She felt incredible, and his body wrested its own control from his brain. He began to thrust, harder and faster each passing moment. A Dwarf climbed onto a chair in front of her and thrust his surprisingly thick cock into her mouth. Meena greedily sucked him, and when a half-Orc joined she took him too. Oddly enough, both men grinned and bumped fists as the girl pressed their dicks together and went down on them both. This turned Gerold on like nothing before, and he thrust in a frenzy into her warm, moist pussy. Push Spears, he thought idly. How appropriate. Again he came, and then unexpectedly again. It was like he was compelled to fuck the hardest he'd ever fucked in his life, and he threw his head back and howled. Meena drove her ass back against him, grasping his cock with her pussy and milking him like he'd never felt before in his life. Suddenly exhausted, Gerold fell back into his chair. Dazed, he looked around at the formerly placid room and now took in the carnage of lust that he'd inspired.

I'm in the mood to spark an orgy. Two rules: the bartender is off-limits, and any character who sits down is out of the fray until they stand up again. Otherwise, anything goes as long as it's legal and doesn't violate EcciDreams TOS and rules. The first post will be long to set the stage. Enjoy!

Actively searching for partners to collaborate with

Bumping still searching

Bumping still searching for partners

No aspirin and a splitting headache. I've got no choice but to go out my door into the wild nighttime city. I hate the night; it's fully cowboy delivery people: drugs, dinner, death doom: if you can pay for it, they will deliver it. And of course where there are deliveries, there are thieves and worse. Don't get me wrong, even though I'm 42 I can still handle myself though my reflexes are a little slower and i have to squint more to see past my hand. But you wouldn't drop me into a hot zone in a south china town and expect to come back out intact. So, i choose not to be out, I'm not afraid of it. Like everyone else, I usually stick to the bright lights of the main roads, but I'm in a hurry and I know these alleys. And that's when I came across her. I heard the scuffle and the clear thud of a person hitting ground and the accompanying ooof! There was a small figure on the ground with a bigger figure over them. Trouble. At first I thought to avoid it and let the probable courier have a lesson about career choices. But then my good angel told me I had an obligation to the underdog. I reached instinctively to the weapon I no longer carried, cursed and then used my voice to the bigger figure. As I came closer they were your standard hire muscle. Brawn and a brain used only for generating violence. "I think you want to drop that package and step away from whoever is on the ground." He told me to fuck off and stepped towards me obviously wanting to include me in his evening's programme. Beat me, then the little person, then walk off with the package. Now here's a tip. You make your hand into a point with fingers hard and strike at the windpipe before they have done their monologue and posturing. It saves time and bruises. He dropped like what i always thought a bag of potatoes looked like dropping. The little person on the ground was breathing, was looking up at me with not a little fear and waiting for whatever would happen next. I extended a hand to help them up and said, "Hi, I'm Thomas your unlikely guardian angel."

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Of course you can and should dm me

I am very flexible and want to start to. I am basically open to anything except for scat and gore, all you need to do is to be a woman at this point, tell me what you like and want to do and I’ll try to adjust myself accordingly

Cyrus closed his eyes. In his head laid the past trauma of his life. You'd be surprised what soldiers of misfortune would do for table scraps...Was all he could think about. The days going without food, being nothing but skin and bones, doing unspeakable things for blood money and a full belly. His aloof side showed vulnerability as he held his hands together. He looked at all four of them. Their eyes showing they won't take no for an answer. He lower his head for a bit before lifting it back up. His cheerful, scatterbrain smile appeared once more. "It was silly of me to say that." He chuckled. His laugh, so carefree and calm. The Cyrus they first met returned. "Very well, it's a deal. My skills are at your disposal and your homestead will become a reality." He said. He shook each of their hands. He had to admit, they were very cute elemental girls. He pulled each one into a hug, just to see how each one would react to it. Would they be stunned? Happy? Offended? Neutral? A flood of curiosity filled his mind. After hugging each one, he took a breath. "Whenever you're ready, we can start on the foundation and forge." He told them.

Eria blinked, pulled from her post-planning haze by his question. She shook her head slowly. "I’m... okay. Just thinking." Her eyes drifted back to the blueprint, but the moment of intense focus had passed. It was Aussa who spoke next, her tone gentle but firm, the caretaker stepping forward. "Cyrus," she began, setting her empty bowl aside. "The meal was a kindness, not a currency. You cannot trade a bowl of soup for weeks of skilled labor." She held his gaze, her earthy eyes serious. "You said you haven’t eaten in days. If you work for us for nothing but food, when our project is done, you’ll be right back where you are now: skilled, hungry, and unable to help the next person who needs you." Hiita nodded sharply, crossing her arms. "She’s right. It’s stupid. You’ve got the hands of a fighter and the know-how of a builder. That’s worth more than just meals. You think we’re gonna watch you work your bones to dust for stew and then walk away? We’re not that kind of people." Her voice was rough, but the underlying concern was clear. It was the same protectiveness she wielded for her friends, now extending, tentatively, to him. Wynn’s voice was soft, barely above the crackle of the fire, but earnest. "Please... you should be paid. Everyone deserves to be paid for their work. It’s... it’s how you keep going. How you take care of yourself." She fidgeted with her sleeve, her words simple but carrying the weight of hard-learned survival. Eria looked up from the parchment, her logical mind engaging. "Your labor has a market value," she stated flatly. "Our funds are limited, but non-zero. If you exchange your labor for a below-market rate, you devalue your skill and create an unsustainable imbalance. The transaction fails. You starve later. We feel guilty now. It is inefficient and emotionally costly." Aussa listened to each of them, then offered the solution that had been forming in her mind. "Here is the compromise," she said, her voice leaving no room for debate. "You work for us at half the standard rate for a carpenter. In return, we provide three meals a day while you’re on site. You are paid for your skill, and you are fed. To me that is fair, sustainable." She gave him a look that was both kind and immovable, while offering him a hand for a handshake. "Do we have a deal?"

The afternoon sun beat down on the dusty carpentry district of Highwind, painting the stacked timber and sawdust in shades of tired gold. The air smelled of pine resin and defeat. Hiita leaned against a sun‑warmed fence post, arms crossed, watching Aussa tuck their coin purse back into her belt with a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of the last three days. They’d left the adventurer’s life behind, pooled every last silver of their savings, and come to this bustling port town with a simple dream: a remote homestead, a place of their own, away from guild contracts and monster‑infested roads. The city had been impossible—prices exorbitant, every plot either a glorified closet or perched on a cliffside. Highwind, a trade hub straddling two kingdoms, had offered hope. Land was cheaper here, the hinterlands still wild enough for solitude but close enough to a port for supplies. It was the compromise between safety and isolation they’d desperately sought. Now, that hope was crumbling like dry clay. "He said the same as the others,” Aussa said, her voice low and steady, though the tightness around her eyes betrayed her. She shrugged, the motion heavy. "His price was double our funds.” Wynn stood slightly behind her, fingers twisting the hem of her tunic. Her eyes, wide and anxious, darted from Aussa’s face to the retreating back of the master carpenter who had just dismissed them. The man hadn’t been unkind, just brutally practical. To him, they were four women with a fool’s errand and not enough coin. Eria, seated on an upturned crate, simply stared at the ground between her boots. "We’re out of carpenters,” she stated, the flat tone somehow more devastating than any outburst. Hiita pushed off the post, a surge of frustrated energy making her clench her fists. "So what, we just give up? Go back to taking ‘safe’ jobs guarding merchant carts?” The words tasted bitter. The last ‘safe’ job had ended with Wynn frozen in terror as bandits descended, and Hiita taking a crossbow bolt to the shoulder. "We need a plan,” Aussa said firmly, but the usual bedrock in her voice had a fissure. "But we cannot build a house with our bare hands, Hiita. I could make a shelter, but not one that will last through a winter. It's less ideal, but our next option is a smaller place. Maybe a village? But... We'll need to hire a transport to get there. Which means...” A heavy silence fell, broken only by the distant calls of dockworkers and the creak of wagon wheels. The reality was a physical weight on them. They had escaped one war‑torn world only to be cornered by economics in another.

[M4A] W

Eliza ran down the alleyways of Weigo City, hoping to make her delivery on time. She should have taken the rooftops, but she didn’t have time to think. Two, no, three guys, gangsters, were after the package she carried. There! A side passage. Her small frame would fit through it with no problem. She slid inside and started forcing her way through the tight space. Thanks to her AA chest, she had just enough room to squeeze the box through as well, no more space than that. It was a good thing she had picked the clothes she did for this job: a soft yellow hoodie with a marigold illustration on the front, high-waisted black hot shorts, and a pair of black running shoes. There it was, the light at the end. Once she reached the street, surely she would be… A large man appeared and dragged her out, throwing her to the ground like garbage. She used her elbow to break the fall, leaving a nasty scrape as blood began to pour. Dammit! If only she had backup. An older, strong man who could help her in her hour of need. The thug, massive in size, grabbed the package, then turned his attention to Eliza.