Battle Royale w. Cheese! Turn 3.5 - Tifa, Tohru, and Albedo (A Mostly Mundane Mall) (Patreon)

> TRY THE DRESSMAKER (ALBEDO) [CLOTHING TF, BAD END]

Albedo grit her teeth and snarled as her Collar started beeping. “What now?” she spat as her feet moved on their own.

Striding past the inferior specimens she’d been forced to accompany so far–and the idiotic ailuranthrope seamstress parasitizing their attention–she marched through the pillars of the otherworldly clothing store… heading in the direction of the apparatus in the corner.

The second she realized where she was going, Albedo understood the cat-things’ design: she was the next sacrifice in their infantile carnival. Damn them. She wouldn’t allow it.

As her legs moved on their own, she raised a claw and seized her Collar, tightening her grip as hard as possible. The material bent–she felt it warping–but no matter how hard she squeezed, it didn’t break.

Soon enough, she arrived at her destination. The machine loomed behind her, a fat, gray hellhound, squat and ugly in its mechanical brutalism, all harsh angles and spinning wheels and spindly arms. Her legs stopped, and she stood there for a moment, clawing at her Collar as the machine turned two beady sapphire eyes on her. They flashed, and she felt it undressing her.

Utter anger lanced her. She grit her teeth till they threatened to shatter. Straining her muscles, she tried to walk, but her legs refused to budge even as the machine opened to receive her.

Eight spindly arms tightened on Albedo’s arms and thighs–she thrashed, but they refused to let go. Holding her like a doll, it plopped her into her mouth. Albedo snarled as its mechanical jaws slammed shut, throwing her into darkness.

A cavern of sharp, metal tools loomed around her on all sides. Even as she struggled to stand, they surged into life, turning and clicking, whirring and hissing. Before she could react, a set of blades flew out of the dark. Striking her clothes, they stripped her in a series of swift slices and carried off the scraps. She hissed at her utter nakedness–How dare they?! How dare they?!

A second later, the dark vanished, obliterated by a hundred bars of glowing pink. Their light tore through her, penetrating her to the bone. Her body screamed in sudden protest, sweat pouring from her skin.

For the first time since she’d arrived on the island, Albedo felt the seed of panic. Struggling to her feet, she slashed at the mechanisms, but her Collar soon beeped and threw her back to the floor. Lying there, paralyzed, she could only screw up her eyes as her sex ignited, sending waves of pleasure to flood her trapped nerves. She grit her teeth and strained against it, refusing to give in.

A second later, the belt beneath her lurched forward. As she struggled to react, a vice slammed shut on her feet with a resounding clang. There was no pain, and as such it took her a second to realize what had happened to her: only as the press opened did she see the ends of her legs had been stamped flat, fused together. In place of feet, she now had nothing more than a single sheet of pure white fabric.

As the vice opened again, and the belt shunted her forward, the seed of panic in Albedo’s chest blossomed. Ainz-sama! Ainz-sama!

CLANG. CLANG. Working its way up her form, it chewed her like a piece of meat, reducing her body–her beautiful body, saved especially for her overlord and master–to nothing more than a tawdry dress. CLANG.

Ainz-sama!

*

Tifa gasped as the machine grumbled and grunted and finally farted out a dress, still steaming. It was pure white and beautiful and dazzling, exactly the kind you shouldn’t wear to someone else's wedding.

Captain Blackcat picked it up and clicked her tongue at it. “Tch. So plain. This is why I make all of my outfits by hand. ” Rolling her eyes, she threw it into the pile with several other kitschy outfits and turned back without a second glance. “Anyway, back to business, nya. Get those awful swimsuits off so nyou can start modeling my clothes! ”

Beep!