Dinah Date 3: Dinah's Bogus Journey

Dinah

A chipper woman with a tight blonde ponytail and a sky blue polo greets Dinah as she steps into the spa lobby, “Welcome to ‘The Former Boy Spa Club and Relaxation Center’, a Harem Hotel aftercare support service. My name is Ball! May I have your credentials? Only Former Males and their guests are allowed.”

Dinah pulls out her phone from her (admittedly very heavy) purse and pulls up her contestant information. Showing it to the unfortunately named Ball, the receptionist notes, “Oh, the emergency booking. Lovely to be on an actual episode of the show! Hi, Mom!”

“You are on speaking terms with your Mother after she named you Ball?”

“Rude. It’s a family name. Anyways, where is your Mistress?”

Scarlet chuckles nervously, “Oh, she’ll be along shortly. First, I need to book our sessions?”

“Oh, of course. Trying to keep secrets? We have a number of super romantic couples packages. Which one would you like?”

Dinah scans through the options. Too romantic... Too romantic... Too romantic... Why the FUCK would someone want to be intentionally dosed with aphrodisiacs for an hour? No... Eww, gross! Dinah hands the brochure back. “How about I order a custom set?”

Dinah checks the ala carte menu, selecting a number of options for Harper (and some fake ones for herself). The first, most important option was a one hour full body fish exfoliation booking for her soon to no longer be Mistress. Something soothing, quiet, and, most importantly, utterly isolating. By the time she gets out, I’ll be long gone. She hands over the list.

“Oh, no couple’s choices? You realize this is supposed to be a date, right?”

Dinah chuckles nervously again. “You know what they say, absence makes the heart grow fonder? Well, I’m going to go get ready for my massage in the locker room. If you’d be so kind as to point where that is?”

The receptionist directs Dinah to the locker room, blabbering about spa nonsense the whole time. The de-aged doctor politely acts like she is listening.

When she gets to the locker room, Dinah checks her hand drawn map of the facility, accurately copied from the building’s master plan. That library literally had all the information I could need to pull this off! First, she puts her phone in a locker. As the brochure indicated, her name appears on the locker’s door. There. Looks like I am actually somewhere on site. She finds the janitor’s closet, a closed door with a clear Staff Only sign posted on it. Locked. She pulls out the first scroll she bought. With a pop of the wax seal, she teleports through the door, passing into the closet proper. She jams a mop through the door handle to keep someone from opening it if they unlock it from the other side, then gets to work with the screwdriver. It’s long, slow going, but she gets the hinges off the door in the back of the closet. A nightmare vortex is on the other side. A way out. A way home!

She pops her second scroll to cast Nondection on herself. Now, I got 8 hours to hide where they’ll not find me until the blasted game is done. Easy. With one step, she slinks into the vortex.

Harper

Harper had a little correspondence to write after watching the challenge again with Mattie and Glitterdust. Cassandra called for fan mail again and Iris insisted that everyone actually write one. Harper caught the Congressman comment through his fan-mail and felt the need to offer some words about Hardric’s letter. Having finished all of that, Harper finds herself in the Green Room, uncomfortably alone. She was given no guidance on how to prepare herself for her date with Dinah, so, inventory filled with stuff for every possible scenario, she twiddles her thumbs. 5:58. Where is she?

A certain bondage angel suddenly appears, “Oh, Mistress, what are you still doing here? Dinah’s already left for your date. Here are both of your date quests. Please, don’t read the one for Dinah if you don’t want to void her attempt at it. We do need to get going. If you’ll follow me.”

Harper at least reads her own after she’s teleported to the date location. Harper’s Spa Date Quest: Be forgiven for the mistake you made. Reward: 5 Dice of Victory. Harper sighs. She remembers that particular magic item. So, figure out how to earn Dinah’s forgiveness, get her the potential to get a bunch of easy VP. I wanted us to work through all of this already, but now, with a way to resolve her VP deficit? I really need to get that done tonight.

Her thoughts are interrupted by a receptionist. “Welcome to ‘The Former Boy Spa Club and Relaxation Center’, a Harem Hotel aftercare support service. My name is Ball! May I have your credentials? Only Former Males and their guests are allowed.”

Did I hear that right? Harper pulls out her phone from her inventory and pulls up the relevant information. When she shows it to the receptionist, she asks, “The Former Boy Spa? Really?”

“Oh, yes, Mistress O’Connor. Welcome! Harem Hotel understands that some transformations need long term support after the show and yours is one of them. We here at the ‘The Former Boy Spa Club and Relaxation Center’ want to help you handle any lingering issues of your transition as best we can. We offer many, many spa treatments, plus meditation and other mental wellness services to help you adjust. Plus, girl talk. What girl doesn’t love a day at the spa? Your date for the evening has already picked out some treatments for you and should be getting a lovely massage right now herself. I assume the two of you will be meeting up when you’re done? If you’ll follow me, I’ll get you situated in the locker room and then started on your first treatment.”

Harper follows Ball into the empty locker room, seeing Dinah’s name on a locker. Despite having an inventory space the size of several football fields, the attending receptionist insists that Harper store her clothes in a locker, wrapping herself in a comfy terry cloth robe. Bare feet padding on marble tiles, she is taken to an interesting room. A large tank of water dominates the space, with breathing apparatuses suspended over it. The tank is filled with little fish.

“Welcome, Mistress, to your full body fish exfoliation! Don’t worry, it’s safe and fun. The little fish in there are going to nibble away some dead skin on your body. We just need to hook you up to the air supply and you can just relax in the pool.”

“Oh, don’t bother with that. Sea elf. I can breathe underwater just fine.”

And, with that, Harper dives into the tank, temporarily scaring the fish. Already feeling a little bloated (oof, freshwater tank), she settles to the bottom as the skittish fish slowly start to nibble. Ooooh. Tickly. I hope I can make it up to Dinah tonight. I hope she’s okay. And I hope I don’t pick up too much water weight in here.

Dinah

What the ever loving FUCK is going on here?

Dinah finds herself in a shifting landscape of stairs, hallways, and doors, going every which direction. She feels something dripping from above, only to see a couple of satyrs fucking on a landing above her (upside down). The lady satyr even has this really stupid fake mustache on. And they are so foul-mouthed. She starts walking forward, just to get away.

Then she sees the two fuckers ahead of her? They notice her now too.

“Yo, baby! Love your leaky lady lumps! Shake ‘em for us!”

“Woooo! Mama like! Strip!”

Dinah turns around as the satyrs continue to chant “Strip!” at her, only to see that the space behind her changed colors? And doors appeared that weren’t there before? What the fuck is this place?

Captain Vance DaLance

Space! The Final Frontier! These are the voyages of the Star Ship Harem Hotel! It’s five year mission: to explore strange new kinks. To seek out new fucks and new sexual positions. To boldly bone what no man has boned before!

“Captain’s log. Stardate 69.69.69,” the barrel-chested man (who never learned what a Stardate is) in a velour shortie robe begins, “While the season’s current contestants are in their challenge to explore the deep space between the Master’s balls and anus, I get a moment to relax. And I relax in style, with space booze and space hookers. My order should be arriving soon.”

The man sets the mood in his quarters. He turns on the slow rotation of his large, circular bed, smoothing out the luxurious velour sheets. It’s as big as the one the season’s Master gets, which mean it should handle the number of space hookers he ordered for tonight. He turns on his super classy red mood lights. His finest space booze is chilling in a service bucket. The most sensual music of all of time and space (from theremin virtuoso Kenny G) is lightly playing in the background. The door beeps, indicating his guests have arrived.

He walks over to the door to press the open button. The door swooshes (like all doors should) to reveal 4 lovely space hookers, just as he ordered. A space elf with artificially huge tits. A space orc with naturally huge tits. A space cat with many, many huge tits. And Jerry, his regular lizardman hooker. Jerry greets him, “Sup, bro? Ready for me to pound dat ass of yours while you pound my compadres?”

The space elf, smacking on some space gum, opens her mouth to quip, “Did you already start the party without us, big guy? And with something so passe as a human?”

The Captain turns around to see a twenty-something human woman, lugging around a big purse, panting on his luxurious velour bedding. Then the security alarms go off, shouting, “Klaxon, klaxon! Unauthorized entry detected! Transform with **** prejudice! Klaxon, klaxon!”

The woman panics. Vance sees his transmogrifying ray blaster sitting on his nightstand. I should have listened to that Heidi mistress after that Francine bitch of hers attacked me. Always have a way to get to the blaster! Vance lunges for the gun, only to get maced in the eyes.

“My eyes! My beautiful, beautiful eyes!”

Screaming in pain, he hears her run away.

“Soooo, bro, are we getting paid for our time here or what?”

Harper

Ahhhh!

Sitting an hour in a freshwater tank like that was not the smartest idea and Harper knew it. Still, she wants to make it up to Dinah and if her discomfort for the consequences of the date plan will help with that, Harper is willing to go through with it. It took the staff a while to find a potent enough diuretic to help her **** out the couple of gallons of water she absorbed and now she is having the longest pee of her life.

She pulls out her phone to text Dinah: “Hey, checking in. You want to talk?” No response. Maybe she has her phone in her locker? Or maybe she’s still angry with me? Harper tries again: “I’m really, really sorry for what I did. What can I do to earn your forgiveness?” Still no response. She tries calling. No response. Straight to voicemail. Harper apologizes again.

Having handled her hygiene down there and flushed the toilet, Harper sits up and walks to the sink. Ball knocks on the bathroom stall as Harper washes her hands. “Almost done there, Mistress? You missed your seaweed wrap, but we can still get you to your hot stone massage before your mud bath.”

“I hate to be a bother, but can we call an audible? I want to talk to Dinah. Can you take me to her?”

Dinah

Dinah is exhausted and still hasn’t found a safe place to hide. Endless shifting hallways leading to various sets. She’s gotten chased by casino security guards through a weird bazaar. She’s gotten stuck on a log flume ride with an indoor ocean full of mermaids, seeming different, but just as unnerving, as the ones from her old prision. She even had to resist being sucked into an audience stuck watching a bunch of witches, with everyone frozen in time. Every path has been too hazardous to stay. No doorway has been safe. And she’s running dangerously low on her supplies. Surely one of these doors will lead me to a real world? Let’s try this one.

Nurse Paige

The gorgon, dressed in her signature sexy nurse outfit, has wrapped both herself and a mindless clone she conjured for the purpose of her new season around a staff to mimic the Staff of Caduceus. She waits for the mental signal that filming has begun, then slithers down, her mindless conjuration parroting her every action.

“Hello, all, and welcome to another season of Harem Hotel. It is I, the slinky, sexy serpent of your dreams, Nurse Paige, and I have a treat for you this time. Now, I know I have my usual format: I find a doctor in need of some loving and I set him or her up with a perfect harem. But this time, this time is going to be special. For, you see, in scouring the cosmos for a Master or Mistress worthy of the Harem Hotel experience, do you know what I find? Usually, these two were child TV stars, but in this dimension, they are doctors. Pediatricians running a practice together. That’s right, this time we have a very special treat for you lovely audience members out there! Harem Hotel: Paging Doctors Olsen! Let’s bring them on right now!”

Paige feels something is off. Her new Mistresses and their contestants (all twins, of course) are safely still frozen in the limbo she keeps them in before they are summoned to the stage. Her candy striper staff are all accounted for, awaiting their commands. Yet, something is stirring on her set. She tastes it in the air.

“Cut!”

Summoning her Rod of Asclepius, she slinks and slitters around the stage, tasting the air, searching, hunting. Her prey tastes familiar, but different somehow. Where have I tasted this before?

The double-doors that serves as the contestant entrance peeks open slightly. A pair of green eyes are on the other side.

Interesting. Doctor Dinah. Though not my Doctor Dinah. Well, my Doctor Dinah’s recent cross-promotional appearances haven’t bumped up viewership for her season enough. I could always use another candy striper.

“Hello, little one, are you lost?”

Her prey relaxes. “Yes. If you could get me to a real world, I would be ever so grateful.”

Paige slinks closer, flinging her tail around the door to snag her prey. “Now, why would you ever want to go back to something as boringly mundane as a ‘real world’? Here, let me help you.”

Then, her prey does something Paige wouldn’t have expected. She bares a breast and beckons her to suckle. A little snack first, then. Then the world goes white from creamy, sweet goodness.

Harper

Harper is worried. The staff at the Former Boys Spa are panicking. Dinah never showed up to her first appointment (in fact, the masseuse didn’t even realized he had a booking since it was scheduled only a few minutes before it was supposed to begin). They have film of Dinah entering the locker room, but no film of her leaving. The locker room itself doesn’t have security cameras (strangely enough, this part of the wider Harem Hotel ecosystem actually cares about customer privacy). So, a closed door mystery, then. If I wanted to sneak out of a locker room, what would I do?

“I assure you, Mistress O’Connor, this is highly irregular. We wouldn’t normally actually lose a person. I mean, who wants to escape a spa?”

“I’m sure there is a logical explanation for all of this,” the sea elf tries to assure the staff. Harper points to the janitor’s closet. “Where’s that door go to?”

“Janitor’s closet. I mean, it’s also a Backstage delivery door for cleaning supplies, but surely...”

Backstage? Like what Tina described? One Misty Step later, and she’s in the closet. Unjamming the door, she opens it, nudging at the unhinged delivery door behind it. Then, with a room rattling bellow, Harper exclaims, “Ms. E, we need to talk! Now!”

Dinah

Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit!

Dinah tricked the Host, but she didn’t trick the Producer that was fucking watching. She’s running on fumes through the Backstage, being chased by a dozen zombie-like bimbos in candy striper uniforms. She dashes into a door at random, hoping they didn’t see her.

The room is dark. The room is cold. Sand and sawdust cover the ground. The smell of animals, unseen and unheard, is in the air. A gentle breeze makes canvas flap nearby. The horny giggles are still behind her. She keeps running, hoping that she finally found a place to hide.

Then, the music starts. THAT music. The music haunting her nightmares ever since her first date. Then, a chorus of voices greet her. THOSE voices, chanting THAT tune.

“Hello, souls to Harem Hotel. We are Binky and we are Legion. My set is empty. It must be empty. So, now it is time to consume all within it.”

A cacophony of screams fill her ears as terrible red spotlights illuminate the big top. Her pursuers are run through by grasping claws, radiating from THAT clown. His grin, too wide, shows many, many rows of teeth. Organs ripped out, the candy stripers fall. It eats, bringing each morsel into that gaping maw, almost as if it savors the suffering more than the taste of the flesh it consumes. Dinah is too paralyzed by fear to run. Neck stretching, it loops around the de-aged doctor. It starts to chant again.

“Oh, how interesting. We are amused. A run away contestant from somewhere else now. A punishment is earned. A punishment deserved. Let’s see what mischief I can come up with now!”

It summons terrible magics, cackling in the cadence of THAT song the entire time. Dinah is still frozen. This is how I die. **** by demon clown. Not how I thought I’d go.

“Fly, you fool!”

The tent lights up in silvery light as the clown screams. Two swords larger than Dinah plunge themselves in the foul creature. And a very angry looking silver cat stands before her. “Seriously, Ms. Doctor Hornblower, run! I’ll catch up with you soon enough. I’ll distract those things in that poor man long enough for you to escape. GO!”

Flung towards the demon by some unseen ****, Dinah arcs over it, skidding to a stop right by the door. The nightmare vortex is beyond. She rushes towards it, just in time to feel a hand grasp her leg. She’s being dragged back, back into that widening maw. No! No, no, no, no, please no! The hand loosens and the cacophony of voices scream again. Dinah scrambles to her feet, running as fast as she can. She dives through the portal, skidding down a small flight of stairs, hitting the bottom step hard with the side of her knee. Limping, she doesn’t look back. Gotta hide. Gotta get away from that darn talking cat.

Every step hurts. No time to look at the likely broken bone. Need to find somewhere to go. Somewhere to hide. Hobbling, the de-aged doctor skips the first few doors. Too obvious. Gawd, I hope I’m not bleeding too much. Hate to find out I’m leaving a trail for that cat to find me. The door in the floor of the hallway is as good as any. She opens it, gritting her teeth. She catches sight of the fractured fibula sticking out of her knee, nearly passing out. She tumbles in the open door.

She winces in pain, nearly passing out again, as she hits a white-sand beach, the waves lapping salt into her wound. The door that should be above her is gone. The sun has set, still lighting up the sky in the last remnants of reds and oranges before the night truly falls. Sea spray fills her lungs. The air is warmer than the other set at night, but still a little too cold for her. She shivers. She tries to get up on her feet despite the ruin of her knee. She doesn't succeed, jostling her broken bone as she lands back into the sand. The growing pool of blood is tinging the surf and sand around her a dull brownish red. So cold. So... very... cold.

"Fuck! Don't move!"

No, no, no, no, please no more!