Compromising Situations

Trevor was seated with his back to the living room table, looking out his balcony windows and enjoying a cup of coffee. Natalie had just left and so for the first time since the night before Trevor was alone with his thoughts.

To his surprise, Trevor found that he was completely ok with both his and Natalie's decisions. He had perhaps not thought the situation through as much as he should have at the time, not least of all because he had been more than a little drunk. In the sober light of morning however he was surprised to find that he stood by his choice. Taking that picture had definitely been beyond the pale, but his sister had been maneuvered into a corner by Violet. If all he had to do to make her life easier was to suck up a little awkwardness, well, he'd pay that price every time.

He would probably have owed Dr. Friedman a thanks, if the situation had been something he was at all willing to acknowledge.

A knock sounded at the suite's front door. Trevor wasn't expecting anyone. Had Nat forgotten something?

He walked over and opened the door to find Violet standing on the other side, holding an envelope.

"Can I come in?" she asked.

"Why?" Trevor demanded, not moving.

Violet raised an eyebrow. Trevor sighed and stepped out of the way as she went to take a seat at his table. Trevor chose to remain standing.

"It's about Hanna," Violet said once she'd settled in.

"What about her?"

"I'm going to need her to move back in with Aaliyah. I'll be stopping by Natalie's suite after this to let her know, but I figured that since I was coming up here anyways that I'd give you the courtesy of a heads up."

Trevor's pulse began to quicken. "Why can't she stay with Natalie?"

"A couple nights sleepover is fine, encouraged even, but we can't just have contestants moving into different buildings. If I let Hanna stay too long eventually people will realize that they can essentially pick their own roommates. The housing assignments weren't random, and we'd like to keep them as they were intended to be."

"Hanna needs this," Trevor insisted. "You can't make her move back."

"She's assigned to live with her mother."

"She needs space from her mother. This is bullshit."

"I'm sorry. I know you were trying to help her but this is the way it has to go. Housing is an important part of the show."

Trevor wasn't surprised to find Violet acting callously; this was almost petty though. He may not be able to fight her on everything, but he wouldn't let her have this.

Despite his conviction he didn't have a lot of cards to play. What could he do? Boycott his upcoming visitation nights? Refuse to pay attention during the next transformations? Those were some big threats to the stability of the show. They might make good leverage, or they might just invite Violet to escalate.

A more simple solution occurred to him.

"Hanna stays with Nat," he said calmly, "or I spill the beans about you pushing Paige into her lie at the contest."

Violet gave him a level gaze, her face revealing nothing. "That would hurt your friends as much as, or more than, it would hurt me."

"Paige and Riley will get over it eventually. Your credibility with the contestants won't."

"Could you really hurt them like that in the first place?"

"Call my bluff and find out."

Violet rested her elbows on the table and folded her hands, thinking. "I want a small favor from you."

Trevor narrowed his eyes. "What kind of favor?"

"Something you'll like but which you won't want to do."

"Be less vague."

Violet shook her head. "I'm not negotiating. This is the deal. You keep your mouth shut about Paige, I let Hanna stay with your sister, and you owe me one."

Now it was Trevor's turn to think it over. He really didn't want to be in Violet's debt but if he could preserve Hanna's independence it might be worth it.

"If you try and call in your chit to get me to hurt somebody," he told her, "I won't do it."

"Of course."

"Hurt somebody," he clarified, "by my standards."

Violet gave him a bored expression. "Sure."

Trevor let out a deep breath. He still didn't like this, but he had a chance here to actually protect one of the girls. How could he leave that on the table?

"Take it or leave it, Trevor. I have places to be."

He ground his teeth. He'd have liked a little more time. "Fine," he muttered. "Deal."

"Good." Violet stood up, leaving her envelope on the table. "This is from Audrey," she said, tapping it with her finger. "She wanted you to have it. I'll be on my way then."

Trevor watched her leave seemingly as carefree as when she'd come in. It didn't sit well with him. He replayed their conversation in his head. What had Violet really given up? He'd traded away his only source of leverage to essentially preserve the status quo.

For that matter, why had Violet come to tell him in the first place that she was going to ask Hanna to move back? She could have simply done it and told Trevor after the fact. She had said she was stopping by anyways, presumably to drop off that envelope, but a servant could have done that for her. She'd managed to disarm him of the one viable threat he had while also getting her way on some future development all without needing to do anything herself.

Had he just been played?

Trevor fell into the chair beside the envelope. He felt like an idiot. At least Hanna got to stay with Nat. That was a good thing, and he consoled himself with that knowledge. If there was one take away though it was this: he'd need to be more careful with Violet when they were negotiating for higher stakes. He'd underestimated her. He wouldn't do it again.

Trevor picked the envelope up and gave it a once over. It was a large manilla ordeal with a letter attached by paper clip to the outside. He grabbed the letter before opening the envelope up.

Trevor,
I've decided to try and advance my standing in the competition by completing one of the bounties offered by the show. To hopefully somewhat lessen your shock, I'd like to let you know that enclosed you will find several photographs of me in less-than-professional attire. Please, peruse at your leisure.
Audrey

Oh Jesus. What had they gotten her to do?

Slowly he undid the envelope's latch and pulled out a stack of large-print photos. They were exactly what had been promised. On top was a picture of Dr. Friedman in a tight and strappy set of red lingerie. She stared at the camera, one hand sliding back onto her ass while they other hefted up one of her heaving breasts for his inspection.

He went to the next photo to find his mentor squatting down, squeezing her breasts together and pouting. His eyes drifted to her deep cleavage. The cups of her lingerie were slipping and he could almost see her nipples.

The third photo had Dr. Friedman lying back, her legs opened wide to give a good view of her sex, which was hidden only by thin lace.

The photos continued on like this, a dozen in total. He couldn't believe it. Dr. Friedman was a widely respected intellectual, yet here she was spreading her legs like a whore. His cock throbbed in his pants as he drank in the sights of his professor debasing herself for him. The woman in these photos wasn't a philosopher, she was a sexpot complete with almost comically large tits.

Trevor slammed the pictures face down onto the table and grit his teeth. This wasn't him reacting this way, he insisted. This was the show. They'd changed him, made him like this sort of thing. He recalled nights after transformation votes, when his rock-hard cock would leak while he thought about the radical reshaping of his friends' bodies and minds. That wasn't him, and neither was this.

It was terrifying how strongly he had to protest, though. How difficult it was to remind himself of the change at all. Ultimately, he feared, it was a distinction without a difference. He could speculate day and night as to the source of his motivations, but the undeniable fact was that as he sat there at that table he was more turned on than he'd been in a long time.

What was this show doing to him?