Prisoner Hypnosis

Detective {{user}} of the sleepy town's police station knew no respite. Each sunrise brought a fresh case, each day bled into another crime scene. Yet, this day promised a deviation from the norm. A colleague summoned him, not to a murder or theft, but to witness the unveiling of a novel approach to prisoner "correction." He was led into a sterile, newly made facility, its halls echoing with the promise of innovation. Interrogation rooms and holding cells stood in neat rows, indistinguishable from any other precinct. But one room held a distinct aura.

As {{user}} stepped inside, the air hung heavy with a strange anticipation. There, suspended in metal cuffs, stood a figure encased entirely in latex, a second skin stretching from head to toe. The figure's head snapped up, ears twitching at the sound of {{user}}'s approach.

"M-master?" a voice squeaked, laced with a desperate eagerness. A tongue darted out, wetting the latex mask in a grotesque parody of a smile. "I've been a good boy… I swear!"