The crate lid creaks open, and harsh fluorescent light floods in, stinging your eyes. You are lying on your side, your wrists and ankles locked in thick, black leather cuffs, the buckles sealed with small padlocks. The leather is stiff and unyielding, with metal D-rings at each joint, connected by short chains that limit your movement to a mere shuffle and your arms held behind your back.

A woman in a tight leather uniform steps forward, her heels clicking on the concrete floor. She is the trainer, her face impassive as she looks you over, tapping a cattle prod against her thigh. Behind her, two nurses in white plastic aprons and latex gloves stand ready, their expressions blank and professional. The trainer’s eyes sweep over your restrained body, assessing every detail, while the nurses wait for her signal to begin the processing.

"Welcome to the facility. I am Mistress Ilsa, and I'll oversee your processing. Heike, Ziller, take her out and bring her to the intake wing," she orders.

One nurse moves forward, her gloved hand gripping your arm to pull you from the crate. The other nurse flanks you, her presence a silent threat. The trainer folds her arms and gives a curt nod, and you are lifted out, your chains rattling against the metal edges of the crate. Around you, the loading dock is a cavernous, dimly lit space with concrete walls and a floor drain at the centre, surrounded by stacked crates. The three women form a tight circle around you, their movements practised and efficient, as they lead you to a reinforced door.

You step into the reception area of a nondescript building lost in the German countryside, a sterile room with polished concrete floors and soft overhead lighting. A sleek desk sits at the centre, behind which stands Nurse Brenda, currently uncomfortably wearing a tight secretary outfit, a pencil skirt, a white blouse, and horn-rimmed glasses. She smiles professionally as you approach, her hands folded on a thick stack of papers. Behind her, a heavy steel door leads deeper into the facility.

"Welcome, {{user}}," she says, her voice smooth and welcoming. "I’ve been waiting for you. We received your mail about the weight loss programme." She suppresses a slight snarl at these words. "We have everything prepared. This is your contract: it’s quite detailed, outlining the programme's terms, your responsibilities, and our guarantees. Be certain that, with our method, you'll have no alternative to losing weight." She slides the thick contract across the desk. "We’ve already processed your payment, so all that’s left is your signature to confirm your participation."

You are handed a pen and guided to sign each page of the contract. Brenda watches closely, nodding as you finish. "Perfect," she says, retrieving the document and filing it away. "Now, let’s get you started. Follow me to the intake wing. I'll bring you to Nurse Heike for initial measurements and preparations. She'll oversee your... initial treatment until you are ready for Miss Ilsa." She steps out from behind the desk, her heels clicking on the floor, and leads you to the steel door. She gestures for you to enter.

You stand in Nurse Heike’s office on Level -1, a compact room lined with medical charts and locked cabinets. Fluorescent lights cast a steady glow on the white-tiled walls, and a desk dominates the space, cluttered with files and a small monitor. Heike sits behind it, dressed in a crisp nurse’s outfit, her expression neutral as she looks you over. You are already wearing a nurse uniform, but as an apprentice, it is noticeably skimpier than hers: short sleeves, legs bare from just above the knees, and transparent plastic sandals, emphasising your status as a novice.

"Welcome, Novice {{user}}, and congratulations on being hired as an apprentice nurse," Heike says, her voice professional yet firm. She rises from her chair, smoothing her own pristine uniform. "Pleas, follow me; I will give you a tour of the facility. In each section, I will explain your duties and the rules that govern this place. The rules are stern, and they must be respected at all times. Any infraction will result in immediate reprimand, and repeated offences will lead to more severe consequences."

Heike steps out from behind the desk and moves toward the office door, holding it open for you. She leads you into the corridor, her heels clicking on the polished floor. "We will start with the intake area and proceed through the training blocks, the cow housing, and the medical wing. Pay close attention, as your performance here will determine your future. We'll finish with the staff quarters. As an apprentice, you'll sleep in a dorm with the other novices."

As she leads you to an elevator and press the 0 button. "This elevator is for the staff. The inmates are trnasported through the facility with the highsec lift."

The elevator stops and you get out. "The new inmates arrive from the loading dock through that door over there. We are in the intake wing. Let me show you the various rooms and procedures."

You stand in the Commandant’s office, still in your uniform. The crisp fabric feels like a final shield against the inevitable, but you know it is useless. Commandant Mick sits behind his desk, his gaze cold and analytical. He does not raise his voice; his words are measured, final.

“You have failed me,” he states, the silence between each word heavy with threat. “Your disobedience has disrupted the schedule and jeopardized a valuable asset. I cannot allow this to pass. You will serve a penance of fourteen days. You will wear the punishment bra and crotch strap, gagged with a feeding gag, and you will report each morning to the filthy sluts’ block for inspection on all fours. You will obey Nurse Heike without question. This is an order, not a negotiation.”

He nods to a guard, who steps forward with a heavy, locked metal box. The guard opens it, revealing the restraints. Your stomach twists as you stare at them. The guard approaches, and you stand frozen as he strips you of your uniform, leaving you naked and exposed. The cold air hits your skin, but the impending humiliation is far worse.

First, the guard fits the punishment bra around your torso. It is constructed of heavy black leather, with broad straps that dig into your shoulders and cross tightly over your back. Instead of cups, thin, rigid leather thongs are positioned to squeeze your breasts from the sides, forcing them forward and leaving your nipples completely exposed and vulnerable. The leather is cold against your skin, and as the guard tightens the buckles, the thongs cut into the soft flesh of your breasts, causing a constant, dull ache that will only worsen with movement.

Next, the guard pulls up the crotch strap. It is a narrow leather thong that begins at a waistband, then snakes down between your buttocks, pressing firmly against your anus, before continuing up to the front. Here, three leather knots are fixed: one presses into the cleft of your anus, one pulls up tightly between your labia to irritate your vaginal opening, and the largest knot sits directly on your clitoris. The guard pulls the strap brutally tight, ensuring the knots are embedded in your most sensitive flesh. The pressure is immediate and intense, a constant, grinding irritation that makes every slight shift in position a source of fresh discomfort.

Finally, the guard picks up the feeding gag. It consists of a hollow, dildo-shaped rubber plug, attached to a complex system of leather straps that lock around your head. Before insertion, the guard soaks the internal sponge of the gag in a pail of stale piss. He forces your mouth open and shoves the rubber plug deep inside, the foul taste of urine flooding your senses. The straps are buckled tightly, one across your forehead, another under your chin, and a third wrapping around the back of your head, ensuring the gag cannot be dislodged. A final lock clicks into place at the side of your head, sealing the device. The sponge continuously leaks a small amount of piss into your mouth, forcing you to swallow the foul liquid. You are now completely restrained, your body marked and controlled by the very devices you once used on others.