Sex-arcade Booth 018: Quistis Trepe
SEX-ARCADE BOOTH 018 DATA:
Subject: Quistis Trepe
Hourly Charge: $ 250,00
Acquisition Date: 06/04/2014
Acquisition Level: Easy
Subject: Subject #18, Quistis Trepe
From: Hostess Ally (email@example.com)
Sent: Sunday, December 14, 2014 09:49:30 AM
To: Dr. Hanna (firstname.lastname@example.org)
Good morning dr. Hanna!
When I accompanied the Sex-Arcade security to bring subject #18 Quistis Trepe from her quarters and bring her to her daily bout at the gym, I noticed she was quick to hide something away when we opened her cell. When she had been secured in her transportation capsule and brought to the gym, I decided to take a look at what it was she didn’t want us to see. Turns out it was a diary, and if the first entry is to be believed, one that we allowed her to have. Not that I mind the subjects writing down their day to day experiences and thoughts, but the nature of some of subject #18’s made me feel like I should forward them to you, since you are her psyche-consultant.
Please find attached the most “colourful” of the subject’s entries. If you are already aware of the subject’s mental state and this is nothing new to you, I apologize for wasting your time!
[excerpt from subject #18 diary]
I didn’t really believe they would let me have a diary, but lo and behold, I asked and now I am writing in it. Figures that when I actually get one I can’t come up with anything to write. I guess I’ll put it away for now. Yaaaay useless diary…
Okay I take that back, it is not useless, I just needed more time to think. Thinking is, after all, the only thing they can’t take away from me, even though they sure like to suggest what I ought to be thinking. Manipulative bitches… Anyway, now that I have this diary, I will try my best to jot down my experiences in this place, this “Sex-Arcade”, in the hopes that someone will at some point find it, read it, and expose their dirty little operation to the world for the rape-dungeon that it is. We will not go quietly into the night! Enough drama from me now, good night.
I was fucked by eleven men today. Eleven! Eleven filthy brutes in eight hours! How in the world is this place not shut down long ago? Are there no authorities around to put a stop to this? Or is rape legal in this world?!
Oh God I am so sore. I can still taste their filthy cum, and my throat is hurting so much from all the screaming. If anything, if I scream it seems to only make them more roused up. Makes them want to fuck me even harder! Maybe I should try not to scream.
I know they know my weapon of choice is a whip used to be a whip, so they like whipping me. “Giving me a taste of my own medicine”, more than one of them have said (or said something similar), then they laugh as they lash me and fuck me. I can’t even count all the whipping marks there are all over my body.
They also like my bangs. Gives them something to hold on to, to tug on when they have their fun. I would cut them off had I the means to.
Today I learned how they knew of me. I still can’t believe it, but I have seen the evidence. In this world I was a video-game character, and apparently they all found me attractive enough to have me abducted from my world just so they can fuck me. How sick is that? Is that supposed to be flattering?
Ugh, I just don’t know what to think anymore.
My world is not the only world. My world is not my world anymore…
If it is one thing I will never forget, it is the day they caught me. I blame myself for that, for the most part, but I also know that there was nothing I could have done. There were four of them and only one of me, and they jumped me in my room in the Gaden dormitories at night. Should have installed an alarm, but I doubt it would have done me any good.
I remember that day vividly. Squall and Seifer, the two fiercest students in my class, had once again let their anger and petty rivalry get the better of them in a weapon’s duel. They actually slashed each other faces, sending them both to the infirmary to dr. Kadowaki. And this on the eve of their field exam! I can’t believe two SeeD candidates would do something so stupid before the most important day of their young lived.
I wonder if they even survived I wonder if they made it, if they became proper members of SeeD, even though I wasn’t there to see them through the operation. I hope they are alright.
Today I spent three hours in one of the VIP lounges. It’s the first time I have been in one. They are a lot nicer than the common booths, but no less intimidating. At least the client there was nice. He was gentle, making sure I was alright and that he wasn’t hurting me. It doesn’t excuse him from the fact that he is still a rapist, like the others, but he is the first one who has given a damn about my well-being.
It was easier being with him, even though he did to me what they all do. But this proves to me that not all of them are vicious, sadistic bastards. This one was actually kind (as kind as a rapist could be, I suppose), He even gave me his name.
I can’t say I have gotten used to my new living arrangements in this place. At least it has become somewhat easier to get through the days than when I first came here. I’m able to withstand having cocks shoved down my throat for far longer before I feel like I am going to pass out, and the whipping doesn’t hurt so much anymore. I mean, it still hurts a bit, but nothing like it used to. I guess I am getting tempered to it.
My room has been furnished with nearly everything I have asked for, so at least I have books, writing-equipment, a big TV and movies, and of course the pièce de résistance (as they call it), the video-game I am in.
It is me, though a low-resolution, blocky version of me. If this game is to be believed at all, it seems my students did survive their field-exam and went on to become SeeDs. Well, one of them did, at least, and it seems like I was going to be by his side on assorted assignments.
I will continue this game to see what else I was meant to experience, had I not “gotten” a new job as a bound fuck-slave.
Food here is really good. It is not like your standard institutionalized food, this is actually prepared with some passion. Seems like they do, in some twisted way, care for their sex-slaves. Or are the cooks just that good, and it has nothing to do with caring?
Ugh… I miss my world, my life. I miss being an instructor. I miss my students. I miss Garden. It was a simple life, even though it was a mercenary life. I was good at what I did, and people respected me for it. I was the youngest instructor in Garden’s history.
I was good at what I did. I want to go back.
It really does pay to simply lie there and take whatever they throw at me. Being submissive makes it easier on myself than if I try to resist. The hostesses have even stopped ring-gagging me if a client wants to fuck my face. They know I won’t resist, that I won’t bite.
Am I giving up? Am I simply trying to live as HELL NO!!!
There was a DP “special” on all Final Fantasy girls this week. I cannot even begin to describe how sore just EVERYTHING is.
Today I spent my entire shift bound boob-to-boob with a girl named Rikku, apparently one of the other “Final Fantasy” girls held captive in this place. Apparently, in this world, girls from worlds that have absolutely nothing to do with each other is somehow all brushed under the aforementioned title, as if we already knew each other or have the same jobs.
Anyway, we were bound to each other with thick straps, me on my back with Rikku on top of me, a strap around our heads forcing our lips together while we got fucked all over the place in all four holes.
Is it weird that I kind of liked Rikku’s nipples brushing against mine, and having her lips forced onto mine?
Ugh this place is messing with my head…
This week has another “special” in store for me, it seems. “Three for the price of one”, meaning three clients can do a girl at the same time, for an hour, and only pay the admission fee for one client. Needless to say, this has proved to be a very popular bargain, and as such my shift in the booth has been elongated from eight to twelve hours a day.
Twelve hours a day, stuffed in every hole, fucked nearly into a coma.
Worst part about it all is I am getting used to it. How sick is that? I am getting USED to being triple-penetrated!
This is the worst place ever.
I got booked in a VIP lounge again, and I have to admit my heart leapt to see it was the same client from back in May. He had me for four hours today. Wasn’t even a hostess with us. He is the only one here who has treated me as a real person. I decided to reward him for that. Getting him to loosen my bonds, I sucked him off harder and with more passion than any other cock that has been forcefully shoved into my mouth. And then I fucked him until he couldn’t even stand up anymore.
I like him. But most of all, I like how he treats me. I want to keep doing my best for him in the hopes that he will book more time with me in the future. For every hour I get with him is an hour less with some potential sadist.
I hope he’ll return soon.
I NEED him to return soon.
It is all so pointless… Day in and day out I am fucked, from sunup to sundown (not that I see the sun at all in this place, wherever it is), whipped and forced to orgasms I don’t want by people who pay to do it. That they pay to do it means nothing I can do or say will make them stop. They have come explicitly to do these things to me, and they revel in it. If I scream, they get rougher. If I cry, the laugh harder.
It seems I never will stop hoping that one day, I will wake up back in Garden, and this all would have just been one torturous, excruciatingly long dream, one that I can shake off and be about my duties, doing what I want to do.
But that won’t happen, will it?
Come tomorrow, I’m going to get fucked again.
Subject: RE: Subject #18, Quistis Trepe
From: Dr. Hanna (email@example.com)
Sent: Sunday, December 14, 2014 12:02:53 PM
To: Hostess Ally (firstname.lastname@example.org)
Thank you for bringing this to my attention. It seems the subject has not been entirely truthful with me the past few sessions. Saying anything more would be a violation of doctor/patient confidentiality, but I want you to know that bringing this to me will help the subject in the long run of coming to terms with her current situation.
Dr. Hanna Livingstone
The Sex Arcade
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Story by my big friend J-Cal!
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