Fan Mail 1, Part 3: The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

Kevin

Kevin enters the Winter Room, where his significant other(?) is dusting. Winter smiles and saunters over once the maid realizes the sometimes bull has arrived.

“My sexy bull, what’s the occasion to join me so soon?”

“Fan-mail.”

The maid’s smile widens. “Sounds like I need to cuddle you while you read. Come!”

Winter saunters over to the loveseat and pats the spot beside the drow once properly seated. Kevin summons his stack of mail and sits. Winter snuggles into the bull’s bulging bicep.

The first letter has a fancy red seal. Kevin opens it, expecting it to just be a letter. He gets blasts with blue glitter. Blinking, he stares into the mid-distance, hoping for an explanation from the drow maid (face sparkling with the stuff) at his side. Seeing that none is forthcoming, he sighs and starts to read:

Hey Kevin,

I'm Sam. Contestant on a different set — same show, different Host. I'm writing because Harper opened fan-mail and I figured you'd get more out of hearing from someone who's been in your exact situation than from someone who hasn't.

You're in a harem for a Mistress you actually like, and you're gay, which means the path the show is designed around isn't your path. I know what that's like. Andy (that's my best friend, and the Master in our season) and I have never been interested in each other that way, and for the first round, as well as part of the second, I was genuinely scared the show had put me here to either break me or lose. There was even a transformation in my tree that seemed purpose-built to make me attracted to him. That's a specific kind of dread — knowing that "being yourself" is exactly the thing the game is trying to eliminate.

But the show is stranger and more flexible than it first looks. Someone on my set paid close enough attention to find a setting that let me compete without compromising anything. I'm not telling you that because your situation is the same — it doesn't seem to be, and Harper is a good egg — but because the show rewarded someone looking carefully on my behalf, and that happened because I didn't pretend the problem wasn't there. Andy and Claire knew, and they cared about fixing it. If Mona's paying attention the way she sounds like she is, that matters.

Little bit of advice (I've watched Andy with this). The form-switching won't stop being strange. You get used to it, and then it catches you off guard, and then you get used to it again. I don't think it ever fully flattens out. Andy mostly seems okay as Andi, but I'm pretty sure I've caught Andy checking himself out when he's a girl from time to time. Which, I mean, she is well-built, I will give her that.

Last thing: the friendship that brought you here is worth being celebrated. Andy and I are basically siblings and I could have never survived one round in this place without him, while he would have run for the hills if it had not been for me. Be there for Mona. She'll be there for you, I hope, and that's a friendship worth nurturing.

You sound like you've got a good head on your shoulders. Both of them, actually. Caoimhe is prettier, though.

Good luck out there. Write me back, if you want!

Sam Collins

Contestant, The Harem Hotel (Arabella's set)

Kevin remembers Sam from the bits of her season he watched. He remembers the corgi jokes. Sooo many corgi jokes. So, he’s happy to react.

“Hey, Sam. Thanks. That should be said first.”

“I presume Harper is Tyalangan’s original name? I had Elvish crammed into my head and I can see the derivation. Still, I think Tyalangan took my situation into account when she designed the rules. We get our VP equivalent for preparing to save the world, not just doing sexy stuff with Mona. I guess Claire and Andy found a loophole for you? We only got to like half of your first week and your third challenge so far. Still, glad to hear that you have a work around of some sort. To be stuck in a season in our situation without it? Yikes.”

“Andy got a form switch thing, too? Huh. Why? Aren’t you the only non-straight woman over there? If you aren’t interested in doing that sort of thing with Andy in lady mode, why would he ever want to change? I don’t know how his works, but I have accepted that it’s always going to be weird for me. We aren’t the same person; we aren’t completely separate either. I know I think differently about things when I am her. Not swapping right now, but maybe I will when I write back.”

That felt good. Someone else going through this, wishing me well. I’m glad to hear that she’s doing better, too.

Kevin moves onto a shiny gold foil letter. He opens it carefully, happy to not be blasted with more glitter. He thereupon reads:

Kevin/Caoimhe,

You seem like a decent fellow. It’s not often that a contestant not sexually attracted to their Mistress makes it through a season without having that part of them altered. I truly hope such a thing does not happen to you. I think that the way you are working around it with Winter is smart, and I hope that the relationship you form with the maid is resilient enough to weather the rest of the competition.

All the best,

Aurelia

P. S. That no-gendered language transformation on Winter is truly fascinating. Tell Winter good job for coming up with it. I will not be writing the maid a letter, so this task must be yours.

“You see that, my big sexy bull. That audience member thinks I’m clever!” Winter smugly notes, still covered with the remnants of glitter from the first letter. The drow snuggles into the crook of Kevin’s arm a little bit more.

“Well, I’m not going to argue against that.”

“And she approves of our relationship!”

Kevin kisses the maid, “I’m not going to argue against that either.” The glitter on Winter’s lips tickle a little.

“Good.”

The next letter is in a plain envelope, typed out on a typewriter. Kevin sits and reads, Winter pressing into his arm to read over his shoulder:

Kevin,

As someone who in the first round of Harem Hotel wasn't bisexual, and therefore as a former straight guy wasn't attracted to the master, I sympathize a bit with your position. In addition, I've had antagonistic relationships with other contestants, for reasons they mostly caused(in my case another contestant was a former bully of mine), so I very much understand where you're coming from there as well. Hence, it's with that familiarity that I wanted to offer you some advice and observations.

I think when it comes to Mona, you're doing great. You're in a no-win scenario here, but with the help of Winter, you've managed to figure something out. That's really impressive given you're the only gay guy I know of on Harem Hotel, and how male contestants are often not allowed to keep their original sex at all by the audience. I'd say the main thing at this point is just to make sure the rest of the harem doesn't forget you, and perhaps in the future to see if there are male contestants willing to do sexual things with you in front of Mona. After all, it's through doing such things with Mona that you'll be able to survive the show week to week, and get the time you need to do well in everything else.

When it comes to Tegan, I'd tell you to let her make the first move, but be ready for that when it happens. It's how I sort of dealt with Nox, and we've been able to rebuild our relationship. I do admit my experience is filtered through multiple reality rewrites, so my advice has less value than it should have. Tegan does need to realize what she did was wrong, but once that happens, I think you'll both be able to mend bridges with each other. It would also help if she came out of the closet but I suspect that will take a frustratingly long time for everyone involved, to say the least.

Sincerely,

Noah

Another contestant I think I saw. The chubby one from that dream challenge. I probably missed some context, but maybe that Felix fellow is bi? That Master was cute, at least for someone mildly panicking.

Winter boops Kevin’s nose, “I think I know that look. No fantasizing about a guy without me being there too.”

Kevin blushes a little, which changes the contrast between his skin and Sam’s glitter attack. “Ahem... I obviously don’t know the rules of your season, but I don’t think I am in a no-win situation.”

Winter quips, “That’s right. He got me! I’m a better prize than the wish.”

Kevin rolls his eyes, not disagreeing, “Even without that, I can win the game without needing to do that sort of stuff with Mona. Just have to train for the big fight at the end hard enough. And I am in second place right now. Still, advice received.”

“Concerning Tegan, she seemed ever so slightly receptive to working things out. I will try to forgive her once she truly seeks it. I think Scarlet’s lesson will help, eventually. And, yeah, she needs to learn to stop the self-delusion. I can’t fix that. Maybe Mona can?”

He takes his time writing responses, then heads to the shower to get the glitter out of his hair. He does not notice Winter grabbing a pen as he walks away.

Tegan

Tegan enters the Spring Room, seeing the big tittied bunny maid lightly dusting, a buzzing noise coming from her skirt.

“Hi, Tegan! Wanna bounce with me? I could do with a good bunny bounce right now.”

“No. Out.”

Tegan ignores the pouty face the bunny-girl gives her as she leaves. The angry archer takes a seat in the sitting area and looks at her stack of letters.

The first letter has a bit of a flourish. Tegan breaks the fancy wax seal. The handwriting is interesting. It seems like whoever wrote this was re-learning to write in a new context. Tegan doesn’t dwell on the idea for long. She has to read:

Dear Tegan,

I'm writing because Harper put out a call for letters and something about your situation made me want to reach out. I should mention upfront that I also have fox ears and a tail, so this letter comes with a certain amount of solidarity built in.

Mine came shortly after I was brought on the show. I wasn't sure what to make of them at first — the ears especially, because they pick up everything and you can't turn them off. They were useful at the beginning, when I was still getting used to my condition, and I suppose they remain useful now. I've gotten used to them, and honestly I'd miss them now if they were gone. Also, Andy found out I basically melt if he scratches them, so there's that. How many tails do you have so far? I'm curious how the magic side of it develops. Mine is different enough that I don't have a useful comparison, but I'm genuinely interested.

I don't want to say too much about what I noticed when I learned about your season; you'd find it annoying to be summarized by a stranger. But I recognize the feeling of not being entirely sure where you fit in a situation that you didn't design and didn't choose. I spent a lot of my time before The HH feeling like I was standing slightly outside my own life, watching it happen. It gets better. Not all at once, but it does.

The training sounds extraordinary, by the way. Having something that big to work toward — something that matters beyond the game itself — seems like it would change everything about how the season feels. I'd love to hear about it if you're willing to write back.

I hope things are good with Mona.

Myra

P.S. I can perceive emotions directly now, as part of my own transformation. So if you ever want an outside read on something you can't quite name yourself, I'm a decent person to ask. No pressure.

The first thought Tegan has when she finishes the letter is not the most useful. Who’s Harper?

Then she settles and focuses. Alright, I have to share thoughts out loud. I can do that.

Tegan’s ears flatten as she thinks, “I am sorry to hear that you have been turned into a freak like me. I will admit that the ears are... useful, but these things have destroyed my Olympics career before it got started. Even if the world wouldn’t hunt me down for being a monster, how can I ski well enough for these things to not drag me down?”

Her tail wraps around her leg, like a little floofy hug. She continues, “I only have the one tail right now. I forgot about the indignity that I would grow more. I’m not exactly sure what is going to trigger it yet. The magic I have access to is perverse and I have no intention of ever using it.”

“I still think the blue-skinned freak that kidnapped me is lying about our world being in danger. I will admit the training is very good, though. I don’t know how they are able to make us so competent with a skill in a few hours. Seems like magic. Probably is.”

“Thank you for the advice.”

Feeling like that is enough, Tegan moves on.

The next letter is garish with a shiny gold envelope.

Tegan,

Scarlet is right, you know. The constant insults are tiresome as a viewer. I worry that you have spent so long fueled by hate, rage, and self-loathing that you do not truly understand how to live a proper, happier life. Especially in a terrible situation like the one you are in, a positive attitude is essential to survival. This is actually something that has been discussed a lot in scientific literature. If you would like to spend some time in the library trying to prove me wrong, the information you need would be found there.

Happily,

Aurelia

Tegan is livid, fangs bared. “I... I am NOT filled with hate and rage! I’m not! How dare you presume to judge me! I’ve been kidnapped and **** to endure so many indignities! Have you?”

The next letter is on computer paper and written in green crayon. As Tegan opens it, a picture of a big-tittied goblin floats out. Disgusted, Tegan ignores the picture and reads:

Tegan,

Do not treat your life as a competition to be won, for I have done that and paid dearly for it. I say this as a former athlete who often focused on that part of their life far too much, and was an asshole to everybody around them in part from that. Unlike me, you seem more capable of learning from your past mistakes, such as with your former eating disorder, although the way you keep thinking of women with large breasts as cows shows a remnant of that mindset you should discard. Hence, read closely as I explain why I think I'm in a position to give you advice.

I am someone who was once a star athlete, student, and had everything going their way except being a total asshole. Then I got ruthlessly ground down by an oni, lost my first name, and got turned into a busty goblin so as to be a better plaything for one of my former victims. While you were never as much of an asshole as I was, I see far too much of the obsession I had with my athletics training, and the arrogance you have with other contestants. You have started to make progress on that front, but you need to understand that for both Harem Hotel, and whatever happens in your life afterwards, the other contestants are your teammates. They are the ones will be helping you in the challenges your life will have going forwards, and you need to get a better relationship with them stat.

Well, okay, except Craig. Your main job with Craig is just to comfort Mona when he inevitably gets eliminated, and to protect her from any bullshit he might pull trying to avoid elimination. In that case you should be an asshole to protect your fiancée, to say the least.

Sincerely,

Nox

Tegan looks at the disgusting goblin picture in a new light. Surely, that has to be an elimination. Maybe he got it as punishment for running away from that demon thing in that challenge? Was the beating he received not enough? To be aware of your old life and trapped in a disgusting green-skinned cow-tittied freak body like that is a nightmare. That Añil fox has it better; at least she can’t recall her old life.

“I am sorry for your loss, Nox. The transformations heaped upon you are cruel beyond measure. May your elimination be reversed, somehow.”

Tegan sits in the empty room, pondering. Why did they all think something is wrong with me?

Craig

Craig stomps into the bowling alley bar. He gets himself a beer and sits down at a table. Hopefully, one of these gets me the XP I need to survive. Otherwise, I’m in real fucking trouble.

The first letter, fancy envelope, red wax seal, has a note paper clipped on it. It is short, to the point, written with a hand that is firm.

Craig, in case you need the reminder, I know what you are doing, I know what you are thinking, and so does the audience. I allow you to pursue your little ineffective schemes, so long as you do not breech a rule, due to an overarching principle that I must follow, no matter how personally distasteful I find it: “Never prevent a game participant from being interesting.” And you are interesting in the way that a toothless shark trying to maul an innocent baby penguin is. Mildly amusing for a few moments, then quickly outstaying its welcome.

The rule that allows you to scurry around like a rat is the very rule that will prevent me from shielding you from the promises made in this letter. They are real. They can be followed through. And, if you somehow dig yourself out of your impending elimination today, I will be glad to see them applied, if you further invoke the warranted wrath of those watching.

Shape up.

No signature. No need for one. Fucking dyke bitch. Craig crumples up the page and tosses it aside before breaking the wax seal. He unfurls the letter and reads:

Craig,

I'll keep this brief, because I don't think you require a long letter to understand what I'm going to say. I think you're quite capable of understanding it the first time.

My name is Andy Cooper. I'm the Master of The HH, and I'm writing to you as a courtesy — which is more than you've extended to the people around you, so read carefully.

I'm watching your season. I know what happened on your first date with Mona, and what you said about it afterward, when you thought the only person listening was someone who'd agree with you. I know what words you used. I know who you blamed. I know the story you told yourself about that night. It is the story of a small man who has decided that his own comfort is worth more than another person's pain, and who thinks no one who can do anything is smart enough to pay attention.

Someone is paying attention.

I want to address something you may be thinking right now, which is that I have no standing here, no jurisdiction, no ability to interfere, no authority over your season or your choices. You may be right about the jurisdiction. You are wrong about the ability to interfere, and the authority. I have abilities that you cannot begin to understand, and I have no particular reason to stay within my lane if I see someone using Tyalangan's season as cover to harm a person who asked me — directly, in writing — for help. Mona wrote to me. I take that seriously, and I will help her.

So let me tell you a little of what I can do, so that you have accurate information when you decide how to proceed.

I can rewrite people. Literally. I can edit you the way a writer edits a draft. I have used it carefully, because I believe power should be used carefully. I am telling you about it now because I want you to understand that "careful" is a choice I make, not a limitation I operate under. But you should know that I do not need to be anywhere near you to do this.

I can issue commands that cannot be refused. Not requests. Not suggestions. Commands, with the full weight of what this game is behind them. Mona's commands make your dick shrink if you don't obey. My commands could make you literally chew it off your body and swallow it. I have not had occasion to use this gift, because I believe in people's autonomy. Again: a choice, not a constraint.

I am also, at this point in my season, strong enough that the physical gap between us is not something you want to test. I mention this not as a threat but as context. You are not in a position of strength relative to me, and I want you to have a clear picture of the landscape.

There are other things I could do without breaking a sweat. I don't see the need to give you an accounting.

Now. Here is what I am not going to do: I am not going to do any of these things preemptively, or out of anger, or to make a point. I am not interested in you as a problem to be solved. Frankly, you are a small man who thinks with his dick, and hardly worth anyone's time. I am interested in Mona being safe, and in the other women in her harem being safe, and in your Host — who has worked harder than you deserve and shown you more patience than I would have — being respected.

So this is what I'm asking, and I'll only ask once.

Stop.

Stop treating the women around you as objects that owe you a particular response. Stop telling yourself the story where Mona's distress was her failure rather than your misconduct. Stop looking for the angle, the softer approach, the slower method that achieves the same end without triggering the same consequences. I have watched you recalibrate after punishment, and I want you to know that what I saw was not growth. It was adjustment. You learned that brute **** draws a response. You did not learn why your actions were wrong. Those are not the same lesson, and the difference matters enormously to me.

I am not your Host. I am not your judge. I am not constrained by the rules your Host operates under, and my own Host grants me remarkable latitude. I am someone who received a letter from a young woman who was frightened and overwhelmed and trying to do right by people she barely knows, and who told me, in her own words, that you hurt her. That letter is the reason you're reading this one.

If I have to react to you again, it will not be through a letter.

Treat Mona well. Treat all of them well. Treat Tyalangan and her wives and her family with the respect that is owed to people who are, by any reasonable measure, so far out of your league that the only appropriate response is gratitude that they're bothering.

That's all I have to say.

Andy Cooper

Master, The HH — Current Season

Well, that explains the dyke’s little bitch note.

“Well, fuck you, asshole. Who do you think you are, telling me off like that? So, you’re a Master, so fucking what? You think that, just because some Host skank gave you a buncha bitches to fuck that you’re better than me? I bet you that nothing bad’s ever happened to you, you ungrateful lucky bastard! Go screw a wall socket!”

Craig: -1 XP (Stop It with the Slurs)

Craig hears the notification ding. Need to be careful. Fuck.

“Ain’t your business that she is... how she is. You keep out of my business.”

Another letter. This one is at least normal looking. Plain envelope, no addresses. Craig tears the side of the envelope off, pulls out the page, and begins to read:

Craig,

I'm the daughter of the man you saw the elimination of, and I want to assure you that, at this rate, that will happen to you. I grew up with the exact kind of manipulative shithead you are, and there is nothing you can do to hide from the Hotel's grasp. Maybe Tyalangan will even outsource your punishment to the demonic host we have, who, as you have seen, can be very creative with this type of thing. I'd tell you to change, but I'm not convinced it is possible for you to do so, given how, just like dear old dad, you keep making the same mistakes over and over again. You cannot accept blame, because your ego is more fragile than wet paper.

Really, the only reason I give a shit is because I know how brutal eliminations are for everyone, even when the person on the receiving end deserves it. Maybe your host will be more merciful on the master and the other contestants by not making them experience it, but honestly, I doubt it.

Sincerely,

Cammy White

This bitch...

“Look at me change. Old me would have been calling you a worthless bitch that should keep her cock-gobbling mouth shut. New me will think about your feedback. I am sure your berating me without any suggestions on how to get out of my situation will be super helpful.”

He waits for the punishment notification ding. The ding tone is different this time, but the message is just as annoying.

WARNING: Passive aggressive statements including slurs will now count as if you used them directly.

Fucking blue dyke...

The next letter is in a gold foil envelope. Another tear from the envelope’s side, and Craig pulls it out to read it:

Craig,

To be honest, I am not entirely sure that this letter will do either of us any good. I dislike you. I have been desiring your elimination since the first few sentences you spoke. I suspect that I am lesbian enough for you to dislike me, if my distaste for you wasn’t enough for that on its own.

However, I am an enjoyer of good television, and would hate to see such a wonderfully hateable person be reduced to a sex toy so soon, with so little fanfare involved. I hope you succeed enough to continue to scrape by until you are eliminated after quest 2. For the record, the suggestion I have given your host for your eventual elimination is to get rid of all of the useless parts of you, like your shallow, narcissistic personality, but keeping the body that Mona seems to enjoy for some reason, making you a hollow sex doll for her to use however she desires. I hope you enjoy the image!

Wishing you the worst ♥,

Aurelia

Another fucking bitch wishing me ill. Fuck her. Fuck this whole fan-mail shit.

Craig puts on a fake smile, saying through gritted teeth, “Thank you for your feedback. I am sure that just telling me to be turned into a sex object without any help or advice to avoid it will improve my behavior as you want it to. It certainly doesn’t make me want to hunt you down and throw hands until your face is meaty mush.”

There is a final letter. Shar did write to the mermaid dyke. Surely she wrote to him. He tears open the side of the envelope. The contents therein is... disappointing.

Craig,

You are a moron if you thought Shar was going to bail you out. Of all the Hosts you could have contacted, you picked the one that is the most obsessed with watching other seasons. She saw through your ruse so quickly.

You should have at least used a better fake name than Craigetta.

Do better.

Fuck you, blue dyke bitch!