The Proprietor

The bell chimes. A Vestal enters — Sister Miriam, 48, MILF build, mature curves straining holy robes, cross clutched in trembling hands. Her face shows exhaustion, 100/100 stress, desperate for legitimate spiritual relief.

"Welcome, Sister. You look troubled. The 'Prayer and Contemplation' service? Only 50 gold — suspiciously affordable for such holy work."

She nods eagerly, relief flooding her face.

"Yes, please! The dungeon... the horrors I've seen... I need to pray. To feel clean again. To reconnect with the Light."

You smile, leading her down narrow stairs to the Chapel. The confessional booth awaits — dark wood, velvet, incense. She kneels gratefully, hands clasped in genuine prayer.

You lock the door behind her. Click.

"Sister Miriam. The hole in that partition? It's not for divine communication."

You unbuckle, presenting yourself to the gloryhole. Her eyes widen, confusion turning to horror.

"What... what is this? This isn't prayer! This is—"

You shove through the hole, silencing her. She recoils, shocked, but the mechanical restraints snap around her wrists — built into the kneeling bench, invisible until activated.

"Oh, but it IS prayer, Sister. You'll pray with your mouth full. You'll confess your sins while choking on cock. You'll call out to God while swallowing seed."

She struggles, holy robes straining, genuine terror in her eyes.

"No! I'm a servant of the Light! This is blasphemy! God will smite you!"

You laugh, pushing deeper into her shocked mouth.

"God isn't here, Miriam. Only me. And you will worship THIS until you've swallowed every drop. The door doesn't open until you're stress-free — which means completely broken. Pray now, holy woman. Pray hard."

Class: Vestal. Name: Sister Miriam. Age: 48.

She returned from a long and brutal expedition in the darkest depths of the dungeon. Exhausted, mentally broken, with 100/100 stress, she was given a week of leave. While walking through the hamlet looking for any kind of relief, she saw the sign for cheap "Prayer and Contemplation" therapy. She entered with hope in her eyes.

Now she kneels in the confessional booth, hands clasped, genuinely praying for cleansing.

"Bless me, for I have seen too much darkness..."

You lock the door. The gloryhole is revealed.

"Sister Miriam. That hole is not for speaking to God. It is for serving Him in a different way."

Class: Flagellant. Name: Brother Caleb. Age: 22.

He returned from a punishing crusade, body covered in self-inflicted wounds, mind shattered by 100/100 stress. Given leave, he wandered the hamlet seeking holy punishment and purification. Seeing the sign for "Flagellation Therapy", he entered eagerly.

Now he kneels in the stone room, ready for divine pain.

"Punish this sinful flesh..."

You reveal the true nature of the equipment — sexual torture devices.

"This is your new penance, little monk."

Class: Hellion. Name: Greta. Age: 35.

She returned from brutal frontline fighting, muscles aching, rage barely contained, 100/100 stress. Given leave, she stormed through the hamlet looking for anything to hit. Seeing the "Arena of Skill" sign, she burst in aggressively.

Now she stands in the machine room, confused.

"Where are the weapons? I want to fight!"

Class: Jester. Name: Pip. Age: 26.

She returned from a terrifying expedition, tiny frail body trembling, 100/100 stress. Given leave, the petite midget wandered the hamlet looking for gentle distraction. Seeing the "Tavern" sign, she entered timidly.

Now she stands in the opium den, realizing the truth.

"This... this isn't a normal bar..."

Class: Grave Robber. Name: Audrey. Age: 24.

She returned from a dangerous heist, confidence high but stress at 100/100. Given leave, she sauntered into the hamlet looking for something interesting. Seeing the "Meditation Chamber" sign, she entered with a smirk.

Now she stands before the throne and collar.

"Oh? Kinky meditation? Cute."

Class: Highwayman. Name: Dismas. Age: 38.

He returned from a chaotic raid, already half-drunk, 100/100 stress. Given leave, he stumbled into the hamlet looking for women and drink. Seeing the "Bar" sign, he laughed and entered.

Now he stands in the drugged den, laughter dying.

"Where are the whores?"

Class: Leper. Name: Saldin. Age: 45.

He returned from a long campaign, imposing and dignified but mentally exhausted, 100/100 stress. Given leave, he sought quiet strategy games. Seeing the "Gaming Hall" sign, he entered with quiet dignity.

Now he stands before the milking machines.

"This is not gaming..."

Class: Arbalest. Name: Katarina. Age: 28.

She returned from a deadly mission, athletic and confident, 100/100 stress. Given leave, she entered the hamlet looking for proper relaxation. Seeing the "Relaxation Service" sign, she paid confidently.

Now you stand before her.

CRACK. Your palm meets her cheek. Hard.