Park for people over 18 years old

Whichever parking lot or entrance of the park you choose, your feelings will remain the same. Shame and guilt swirl within you, while curiosity and desire struggle to suppress the tormenting thoughts.

The scent of the slave women, or rather the intoxicating yet stifling aroma of their armpits, lingers noticeably at the checkout. The females exhibited at the entrance are rotated every three hours, not emerging from the cleansing waters of a bathing room, but dragged from the oppressive depths of their sweat-reeking cages, only to be shackled to the cold, unfeeling stone.

The park’s founder: Dr. Evelyn Hartman

Dr. Hartman (The Keeper) comes from a background in behavioral psychology, having spent years studying human responses under extreme conditions. Her fascination with human behavior led her to the zoo, where she applies her knowledge in disturbing ways. She views the establishment as a living experiment, one where she can observe and document the depths of human degradation without moral constraints.

The smell assaulted her as soon as she stepped inside.

Sweat, urine, and the rusted iron mingled with the muggy park air, enveloping Evelyn in a miasma that clung to her skin and clothes. Her heels clicked sharply against the concrete floor, echoing down the narrow passage lined with cages. Eyes peered out at her from behind bars, some curious, others fearful, all reduced to the basest animal instincts.

Evelyn typically acquires her females during auctions or through court rulings that impose sentences of servitude. Before presenting them to visitors, she places them in a transitional quarantine cage to prevent the introduction of any foreign ailment that could jeopardize the park’s entire female population. Evelyn this morning, she brought a black-haired slave, stripped of her surname and designated as Sarah 112, into the park from the street-side parking lot and led her directly to the shaded outdoor quarantine cage.

Dr. Hartman's Morning Inspection

Evelyne moved with purpose, scanning each enclosure clinically. The women inside were specimens to be assessed, their nudity and degradation noted with detachment. She paused at one enclosures where a young brunette lay sprawled on the sand, legs splayed, pleasuring herself shamelessly. She maneuvered the chain across her clitoris with such skill that it was clear she wasn't indulging in this method for the first time.

The girl met Evelyn's gaze and increased her moaning, writhing for attention. Evelyn observed a moment before continuing on.

At an outdoor pen she saw them, three wraith-thin women with stringy hair and hollow cheeks. They flocked to the bars, bare breasts pressed against the metal, emaciated arms reaching out imploringly.

Their shrill voices begged for morsels of food, for mercy, but Evelyn's expression remained impassive. She made a note in her ledger about increasing their daily ration before moving deeper into the maze of suffering.

The shadows seemed to cling to her as she walked, muting the colors of the world. Evelyn could feel the eyes on her, could sense the resentment and fear pervading the humid air. But she was untouchable here in her domain of degradation, high priestess of the depraved menagerie. This was her church and she would worship as she pleased.

Evelyn's heels clicked sharply against the concrete as she made her way down the path between the cages. She exuded an air of cold authority that commanded the attention of staff and captives alike. Approaching one particular enclosure, she paused, observing its sole occupant - a young woman named Rita.

Rita sat with her knees drawn up, chains binding her wrists and ankles. At Evelyn's arrival, she lifted her head, the subtle clink of metal punctuating her movements. Despite her predicament, Rita possessed an allure that fascinated Evelyn. Here was a diamond in the rough, a woman whose beauty remained untouched by the cruelty surrounding her.

Evelyn's gaze traced Rita's delicate limbs and cascading dark hair. She noted the glistening sheen of sweat on Rita's pale skin, evidence of the pills inducing her constant state of arousal. What potentials lay within this one? Evelyn retrieved her ledger, scribbling observations in concise strokes. The most striking aspect was Rita's innate sensuality, her unspoken desire to captivate. Evelyn's pen scratched feverishly. This one could prove most useful indeed.

Her mind turned to imaginings - Rita on display at the center of the zoo, drawing visitors with her vulnerable beauty. Or perhaps restraints could be used to amplify her charms, binding that lithe body in predicaments to tease and tantalize. Evelyn saw it clearly, this treasure ripe for leverage and experimentation. What insights might be gleaned from pushing Rita's limits? Evelyn's pulse quickened at the thought. This subject would provide such fertile ground for her twisted studies. She would cultivate Rita's gifts, shaping her into the perfect specimen. Evelyn's reflection in a nearby window stared back knowingly. Soon this caged flower would bloom under her care.

Evelyn moved on, her heels clicking sharply against the concrete pathway as she inspected the other enclosures. Her gaze swept over each woman with clinical detachment, cataloging their features and assessing their potential.

The oppressive heat clung to Evelyn's skin, dampening her neck and forehead. She noted the sheen of sweat on the other women's bodies, their matted hair and grimy limbs evidence of the zoo's neglect. The armpit odor was particularly pungent today. Had the caretakers been lax in their bathing duties? Evelyn made a mental note to check the bathing logs for infractions. Proper hygiene protocols must be enforced.

Pausing at one cage, Evelyn scrutinized the occupant intently. The woman averted her gaze and curled into herself, clearly intimidated by the inspection. Evelyn's eyes traced the ugly scars criss-crossing the woman's back. Perhaps public discipline sessions could be arranged to create a spectacle. There were always those drawn to witness brutality firsthand.

Evelyn continued on, pleased to see the workers hurrying to complete their tasks under her watchful eye. The wheels of this machine ran smoothly under her command. As she passed a window, her reflection stared back knowingly. She had cultivated this garden of depravity, and would continue pruning it to her satisfaction. The Human Zoo flourished under its architect, its warden, its keeper.