An opertunist grabbing our puppies leash

Heather approached Aimé determined. The gnome spotted some apprehension in the heiress's walk, a half step out of rhythm, a small moment of hesitation. “Aimé, I would love to have an art studio available. If you could manage that by my date night.”

“Sure, 10 BP. The supplies and the room aren’t that big a cost; keeping them supplied long-term is the problem. You should have it available by lunch if you want to make use of it. Anything else?” The man in coveralls and a pointy hat said.

“No thanks,” Heather said sheepishly, not wanting to engage the gnome longer than absolutely necessary. She noticed how Becky and Missy were sitting a large chunk away from each other, and William had stomped off somewhere shortly after Chris and that group left. There was tension in the air, one she had learned to capitalise on at some point during her career to make sure competition fought itself. The gym coach hadn’t interacted with many other people, so it was unlikely to be tension with anyone currently here. Most likely with Chris himself or frustration about how last night went. Not something she could capitalise on. Missy and Becky, though… They share a tent; their tension she could capitalise on. The heiress approached the selfish monster in the hopes of getting an idea of what happened during the night. “So what happened?”

“This is just as much of your fault as it is hers,” Becky shouted. “You should have checked that everything was on the tent properly; you were holding the instructions. We forgot to install the raincaps; as a result, it rained inside our tent.” She added with a grumble, blaming herself about as much as she blamed the other two.

“That’s it?” The woman in the onesie said, more surprised than anything.

“Yeah, that is it! Have you experienced your tent slowly flooding as water creeps in along the tent poles?” The overweight woman snapped. “No, you haven’t. We were soaked through; our sleeping bags were soaked through, everything wet, and nothing would or will dry until, well, the rain stops, I guess. Have you got any idea how horrible it was sleeping on the floor of the sanitary building, only warm and dry but without a proper blanket or pillow…” The annoyed woman kept up before being interrupted.

“Wait, you can just sleep there?” Heather interjected.

“Yes, we could. I have no idea why or why we couldn’t.” Missy replied in a dry tone no one expected.

Heather decided to capitalise on the situation by grabbing the leash. “Be brutally honest with me. Try to hurt my feelings if you want; I won’t care. Give me your side of the conversation with all the emotions bottled up inside of you instead of fucking this dead fish you have become over the last two days.” She let go, thinking that the monster was about to be unleashed.

“I fucked up, okay. I know I did. That pig,” Missy’s eye twitched as she said the insult. “Doesn’t need to lord it over me; she doesn’t need to blame me for it. I am human and will fuck up, grow up and get over it. For all I care, leave and never return.”

Becky took those words to heart and left no coat, no nothing, leaving Heather alone with Missy. Heather felt satisfied she had forced them, who had seemed like a front, to break with a single simple command. The heiress kept her poker face and moved into sympathy mode. “Well, of course people make mistakes, Missy. You don’t need to take it, but why didn’t you tell her before?”

“I was afraid of hurting her feelings like now.”

“Doesn’t it feel better to let go and tell her the way you truly feel?”

“It truly does.” A tiny smile formed on Missy’s face.

Behind the carefully crafted expression, Heather was doing a victory lap about the wedge she had driven between the two tentmates. Without letting her utter excitement slip out, she asked, “Now what do you want to do whilst we wait for the art room to be available?”

“Fashion show with your new wardrobe?” The influencer asked. With a nod from the more manipulative of the two, they wandered over to the sanitary building.

(BREAK)

William had sequestered himself in the gym. Not to actually do a workout, but because it felt safe. The scent, the atmosphere it was… homey, the closest thing he could find to it here, at least. He decided to do the thing he hated most, and the thing yesterday had shown he needed to do more cardio, but instead of doing it out in the field, he could now cycle with a playlist of video game background music blasting through the entire building. No videos, nothing more than a music app to blast music through internal speakers.

After an hour of cycling, he lay down on a mat near a boxing bag. He hadn’t decided what to do yet, but he had realised that he had squandered his shot. Not only by forcing Chris into his mould of contact, but also by not accepting the moments he tried to reach out. On the other hand, Chris hadn’t been open until the end, but when the coach asked, he had opened up. The former lover of his ex hadn’t held a grudge, but he was still wary of him.

The duo didn’t match. One was Bi and the other straight, and more importantly, both were men. He did look great whilst swimming and whilst running away. How could Chis be so fast with that much endurance? WHY am I thinking that? William was shocked by the thoughts he had. Because he had those thoughts before, and when he spoke them out loud, people called him gay. No, he wasn’t gay; he liked girls, just girls!

With his newest frustration, the coach decided to start throwing punches and kicks at the punching bag. Not the best way to work through your own issues, but still, it is a way one can say. Might have been smarter to see if there was a BP item that gave them a therapist. Not that he had BP for it. William practised several different rhythms he had learned from other coaches in the gym he worked at for several hours until his head was empty. Not because he had processed what was going on, but because he had beaten it out of his mind.

Becky wandered aimlessly in the pouring rain as she was about to start to walk up the hill; a wind blew her gently back. Trying again, the same happened again. A goblin with a raincoat and purple hair appeared. “Ma’am, it is inadvisable with this much rainfall to go hiking in the mountains or anywhere that has a slope from which you could fall. My colleague is trying to prevent you from falling to your doom or being caught in any theoretical mudslide that might happen. Though we have put in great effort to prevent such circumstances from happening, it would be worse if it happened whilst one of our guests or another intelligent biped was on the mountainside, as opposed to just wildlife. We hope you find a suitable spot for your aimless wander or otherwise mental breakdown.”

Becky headed to the lake to the boathouse to cry, to sob, to let go of all the emotions she had since the start of this. She had felt pretty okay yesterday as long as she felt like someone was in her corner, but this morning both Heather and Missy had felt like they were… her opponents, the cause of all that happened this morning. No one was there; no one would support her like always. That was all made up. She sat there the entire morning with now and then eyes and the top of a head popping out of the water, looking at the person sobbing behind one of the drydocked boats.

As it turns out, Heather had gotten more than a few new outfits; when Syl and Samson said a new wardrobe, they meant it. Which meant that going through them one by one would not be possible, especially given some of the more elaborate designs in there. The duo decided to start with simple bodysuits. A leather motor-riding one felt like she was clad in the most sweaty thing possible, but it didn’t scratch as much as she expected. Heather's curves were brought out to an extreme as per the transformation's requirements, but at the same time it felt safe and empowering. Missy looked at it and said, “Paint your hair black and add some more aggressive eyeliner, and you’d pass as a goth in that outfit.” Not that that is how a subculture works, but okay.

“Well, not my plan, but this isn’t the worst outfit I have seen in this new repertoire they prepared for me. Easy enough to slip on whilst not being well, reduced to some prostitute. That dress, whilst being the most modest, will also be a crime to put on.” Heather said, pointing to the large ballgown hanging with a bunch of hoops. “It will be at least way less than trying to fill that space with petticoats. But still, I don’t know when I could wear that except when there is another person present.”

Almost as if having been called the head writer decided to make an entrance. “It is possible and quite easy with the designs we have prepared. If I am correct, let me explain as you move through the steps. Don’t mind me for the rest; you can do whatever you want.”

“Who the fuck is this green monster?!?” Missy asked.

“At least she has more style than Samson. That dress looks fantastic on her. But yeah, why should I listen to you?” Heather asked.

With a roll of her eyes, Elaine replied, “Well, my credentials are that I decided the closures and design of the outfit. Whilst it looks like a dress, it functions more like a skirt and top combo with hooks to bring them together. Not that uncommon, to be fair, but it will allow you to prepare things and strip them delicately should you wish.” The duo had ticked off the head writer… knowing the gracious goblin she might work out some ‘fun’ transformations for them and have them appear more alluring than they should be.

Heather reached for the metallic hoop skirt. “First, put on the bustier and the shirt; the hoops will rest on the fortified end of the bustier and allow your entire back to stabilise it together with your hips. It doesn’t need to be super tight, but it will likely improve your curves.” The goblin said, tapping her hand. “Afterwards, the hoops and then you can hook the skirt around it, and then you're done.”

“What do you mean?” Heather looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

Elaine undid her own skirt section, opened her hoops and took Heather’s bustier in her hands. “Do I need to help you with the first time?” With a nod of affirmation, the goblin grabbed the bustier and placed it around the bossy woman’s waist hooked it on the sides closed and started lacing it closed around her. “Just so you know, these work better if you wear them for a few hours at a time for a few days so they can take the shape you want them to support.”

“Don’t act like I don’t know how a corset works.” The heiress protests.

Deliberately pulling the cords tighter than she should, the goblin smiled. “Yes, but you don’t know how to properly layer these, so I have no idea what you do know and what you don’t. Fashion is a skill, and each style is exactly that: a new style built on top of the older ones. These bustiers have gone out of fashion in turn for bras, but their function was wider than just breast support. Back and dress support was an important function. A shift underneath was normal; this one is lined with padding. I hope it isn’t too tight. Test if you can open and close it using the hooks on the side.” With some effort, Heather managed to unhook it and, with equal effort, was able to hook it again. “Seems reasonable.” Elaine handed her the shirt, which Heather closed up. A wide opening showed off her breasts like they were for sale; her hips seemed wide whilst wearing it, and then the hoop skirt would widen it even more. The skirt was easy enough to figure out, and somehow she was able to put it on mostly by herself. Elaine looked at the whole with a smile. “You look ready for several ages, cultures, royal balls, and to socialise in the highest echelons of societies. This style has evolved separately in multiple worlds according to my research. Mostly with humanoid bipeds, where wide hips are great for bearing offspring. Samson likes this look.”

As if saying the dress is poison, Heather rushed out of the outfit. Elaine had her back to her as she did and put her own hoopskirt back on. “Why didn’t you lead with that?”

“Do you really believe we put that in there cause he is the only one who likes that, or are you just disgusted because he is a goblin?” Elaine said with a small, cocked smile.

“Neither. I just hate the idea of dressing in a way that guy likes.”

“Suit yourself.” The goblin flipped her hair with a chuckle. “Not that he has the balls to look elsewhere.” She left through a trapdoor that neither Missy nor Heather could open, labelled ‘STAFF ONLY’. Not that they hadn’t tried.

Afterwards, they tried a few more dresses before lunch, ending with Heather putting on a green, deep-cut dress with slids on the sides and without a bra underneath. “Is this really the best outfit for me?” Heather asked as they left.

“Well yes, unless you want to wear shape-fitting tight clothes all day,” Missy said with a smile. The bossy woman groaned as she had to agree. The duo ended up being the only people showing up for lunch.