Enter the Endgame

Ariel

So glad I stole the quest idea from that Lilith season. They single-handedly turned a boring kumbaya party into one of those low-key orgies that the audience craves. Plus the resulting drama should really drive some plots over the next few days. Now to deal with a little Beckie nonsense.

The screen in the Media Room turns on to Alecto standing in a spotlight. Standing? What? That doesn’t make sense...

“Are we broadcasting? Hey, dumb fish? Are we broadcasting?”

“Alecto, dearie, is that bitch Beckie giving you trouble?”

“Alecto? That’s a stupid name. Is that what this dumb fish was called?”

What happened to Alecto? My most bad-ass daughter? My sweet, little girl?

The Mistress speaks up before Alecto. “Beckie is an oblex, isn’t she? I remember how Beckie splattered, then reformed when I kicked her off the balcony. So, she’s an ooze of some sort and oblexes are the only ones I know of that can mimic a humanoid so well.”

“Elvenoid, Mistress,” Aelene corrects.

“Whatever, New Slut. It is I, Beckie Petersen, the best host Harem Hotel has ever seen, despite what the idiot producer thinks. Welcome to the Endgame, Brat and Sluts! The Endgame shall consist of 3 phases. First phase...”

Ariel interrupts, “What did you do to my daughter, you bitch!”

“Oh, simple. I ate her. I ate like a third of the skeleton staff assigned to me to get back enough brains to actually do the job I was assigned. So many delicious memories. Yum! Anyways...”

The bitch keeps yammering, but Ariel shuts down. My babies. My precious babies. The bitch ate them? I didn’t even get to say goodbye.

Harper

Harper watches everyone in her periphery. Ariel has slunk down into the water, starting to curl in the aquatic version of the fetal position. Daphne, being the only one in the frenzy still able to recall their old lives (and, therefore, their old emotions), is raging. Scarlet holds her tightly, shedding steaming tears. Josie looks about ready to snap, Tina looks scared out of her gourd, Skye looks determined, Mattie looks almost detached with curiosity, Aelene looks like she’s already designing a battle plan, Dinah looks confused.

Dinah vocalizes her feelings, “You ate them? How could you eat them? Their memories?”

“It’s what my species do. We crawl bits of us into brains, suck out the memories, and, once all that’s left is a husk, we absorb the rest. Soooo tasty, these dumb fish. Twice the memories one would expect. Really powered up the ol’ noggin’. Can we get to the explanation now? Phase 1: The time between now and the challenge. The game proceeds as it has been, with one major difference. Should any of you get to the final challenge with less than 100 VP, you will not get to participate in the final challenge. Instead, you get an exit transformation designed by yours truly to solidify your future, whether the harem survives or not.”

Wait. What?

“Phase 2 is the Contestant portion of the Challenge. Each contestant having at least 100 VP shall be given an individualized challenge, each designed by a special guest. When the contestant loses the challenge, they shall receive an exit transformation to solidify their future in the harem of said special guest. Losers will spend the rest of their days in the service of a proper slaver.”

“Phase 3 is, as you might surmise, the Brat portion of the Challenge. The Brat here will also get a personalized challenge. When the Brat fails, she will be stripped of whatever sluts survived the first 2 phases and shipped off to be a contestant herself. Courtesy of my old producer, I got a special slot in a ‘Failed Host’ season arranged just... for... her. Whatever sluts survived the first 2 phases in the Brat’s harem, whether eliminated early or beats their challenge, will get to work for me. Sound fun?”

“All of this because I don’t care about my Grand Theory anymore. I’ll be too dumb to appreciate being right soon enough anyways. But I know my diminished brain will still be able to appreciate the fact that I made all of you suffer with my last thinking hurrah. So, enjoy your last week of relative happiness, brat and sluts. I’ll make sure your suffering is eternally immense.”

With that, the Media Room screen turns off.

Beckie: (Brain) Pop Survey Progress: +1

Harper: +40 BP (+20 BP earmarked for contestant modification)

“Ms. E?” Harper bellows. She can’t just ignore all of that.

Suddenly, Harper finds herself in the film noir office. Ms. E is in her spot, an enigmatic something behind a desk, her eyes glowing silvery blue. She simply greets with an operatic, “You rang?”

“You can’t let all of that happen.”

“Oh, Ms. Petersen doing the expected, ‘If I can’t beat them, kill them’ routine? I have planned for that. I have given you everything you need to succeed, Ms. O’Connor. I’m sure you’ll piece it all together. You are catastrophically clever. As for the other thing, please resist the urge to use that power over them unless the situation is dire, Ms. O’Connor. I’ll add a reasonable compromise to your suggested upgrade to the shop for you. The audience in their perverse wisdom wanted you to use it; maybe, when they can understand why you did, they will be more forgiving. You still earned an upgrade, so an upgrade you will be given for your other troublesome transformation. Now, go enjoy your date.”

Just as suddenly as she left, she finds herself back into the Media Room. Back into bedlam. Dinah has already dashed off to who knows where. Scarlet and Josie are both having to hold back Daphne from trying to burst into one of the staff tubes. Skye, Mattie, and Aelene (kneeling on the floor) are loudly arguing about **** plans. And Tina has burst into tears, crying, “My date’s already been ruined!”

Time for this again. “AH-TEN-SHUN!”

Harper picks Tina off the ground and wraps her up in a big hug. “Look, our date’s not ruined. I’m here, right? We are going to put this ugliness behind us for now.” Turning her gaze to everyone else, she addresses them all with, “Here is what I need everyone to do. Calm down. Breathe. Focus on what we know and what we can plan for. The gauntlet’s been thrown. Beckie plans to ruin us with what limited brain power she killed to get before she got her second transformation applied. Perhaps it was a better idea to **** her to survive on femcum than I thought, in retrospect. There is no going back, no escape. Either we succeed or we suffer a fate worse than ****. Are we going to break down or are we going to rise up? What’s it going to be?”

“You mean you aren’t going to be so bummed about what happened that we can still have a good date?” the bonny bunny asks, nuzzling into Harper’s breast.

“Of course, Tina. Of course.”

“Okay; I’m in.”

“Good. Who else?”

“I want to avenge my kin, Beloved. If you can guarantee that we will do so...”

“We stand a better chance at it together.”

Daphne glomps into the hug. Skye joins in, too, noting, “My lady love, I’ll support you. The Lady of the Dance will save us.”

Harper holds her tongue. She looks at the others. Aelene crawls over, then genuflects. “This one is with you, Mistress Harper. And not just because this one wants you to tie this one up and ravage this one. It is hard for this one to communicate properly. Sorry.”

“Join the hug.”

“Yes, Mistress Harper. Of course, Mistress Harper.”

“Scarlet, Josie, Mattie?”

The group hug gets warmer. “I don’t know what to expect, love, but better us together than us being torn apart.”

Mattie walks as close to Harper as she can, “Sarge, how does one kill an oblex?”

“Assuming the DoD rules I know apply, Daphne built a boss after one. The Goo Girl?”

Daphne pipes up, smiling from all of the feminine flesh pressed into her, “Don’t know how the Host magic stuff will change things, but yeah. While oblexes are tough for oozes, they are still pretty beatable. With enough planning, we can win.”

“Glad to help us win, then, though I’m not much of a hugger.”

Josie pushes Mattie into the group hug, “Yeah, you are, Stars.”

“Hey, you get to assign nicknames and I don’t?”

“That’s ‘cause you suck at it. Really, Abs is the best you can do?”

“Well, they are nice abs.”

“You two, please stop flirting. Whipper-snapper, can I count on you?”

“’Course, old lady. Something needs killing, I’m your gal.”

Then Harper feels something set in. She feels different, more in control of herself. The Media Room screen powers on behind her, letting those that can see through the group hug to read:

Personal Space +1 – The Mistress has improved on her ability to relate to others, so her metaphysical barrier needs an upgrade. When she wills it, any individual that Harper has not sufficiently developed an emotional connection to will experience searing pain whenever they come within 6 inches of touching her. The pain will become more severe as the individual becomes closer to touching her, with direct skin to skin contact causing pain equivalent to running that body part, soaked in acid, through a wood chipper on fire. No actual tissue damage is done by this effect at base level. As a reaction, Harper can spend SP up to her current maximum spell level. If she does so, the bubble provides Armor equal to half of the SP spent for that attack and deals four times the SP spent back as erotic damage (Introversion).

Basking in the hug, Harper still feels the need to say something to a certain dancing goddess. She closes her eyes, expecting the words in her head to reach their destination. Not the best thing to build our relationship around, but I’m going to do whatever it takes to save them, Eilistraee. All of them. Give me the strength to do so.