Insight, the Most Terrifying Gift of All, part 3 [Challenge] (canon)

“Next, Ashley, our little slut. Hurry up, this challenge is starting to drag, and I have a special ending planned too. So, come on, chop chop.”

Ashley looks at the pile of presents, then Yuki. She thinks of how struggling has led to nothing but pain, and she lowers her head. “What present should I choose?” Yuki, for her part, barely even reacts. “The middle one. I think it might help you the most, girl. Though I don’t think anything will help you with what you will see.”

Ashley is scared, but her will is broken, she walks forward and takes the center one, with only the slightest hesitation before she pulls at the paper.

___

He had been a fat bastard this time. Why was it that I never get any Fabio types? I guess those types either don’t need sex for hire or they don’t talk to her previous clientele.

Ashley wanted to get out of this, to stop. But that threat hung over her head. All of these men who slept with her knew each other and told each other to ask for ‘special treatment’. And each had told her whenever she seemed to give them lip to know her place. One accusation could be put off as a single man upset that she had rejected his gross advances. Two would jeopardize her position. Three would be a full-blown scandal, and could hurt the company. And that wasn’t even talking about what would happen if Greg found out.

The first had been meant to save a deal, the second was a nudge sent from the first, it had felt like technically she was still in control. It was only by the third that those words had been uttered. What would happen if I told?

It was when she had tried to tell him that business dinner was ok, but she didn’t want to sleep with a gross guy like him. The man barely seemed to bathe… But then he had said those words, and she had folded, been his sex doll, his fucking Barbie doll, and she found herself here now, the elevator opening in a Days Inn. As she stepped in, she was confronted by herself in the mirror. She had started to cry as she reflected on what just happened. Her hair was tousled, she was a mess.

I can’t. This stops tonight. I’m going to tell Yua, come clean. Tell Lyndon to fuck straight off to hell. She didn’t care if his little friend group reported her to Yua, smeared her to any and everyone that would listen. The material would only grow if she kept performing for his sick little group of friends, and what had seemed like a real threat only an hour earlier now felt hollow.

I can get out of this… I’ll tell Yua after the New Year, no reason to ruin her big trip that she has planned. And who knows, maybe Greg and I can have a good time on the vacation and when I tell him afterward about this… maybe he won’t break up with me…

As the elevator dings again, Ashley looks at herself in the mirror, seeing her expression grow firm.

“I wish that I could’ve avoided this whole thing. I wish I was smarter.”

____

Ashley stands there. Looking down at the box in her hand. Not trapped in a glass dome like the others. Yuki merely smiles. “Hmm, curious isn’t it? Your wish is… tame. Even aspirational. It doesn’t quite fit, now does it?” And then like a jack in the box, the box pops open, a black bolt flying from it and hitting Ashley square in the face.

_____

He had been a fat bastard this time. Why was it that she got only the soft types? I guess the that know what they want **either don’t need sex for hire or they don’t talk to her previous clientele.

Ashley wanted to get out of this, to stop. But that threat hung over her head. What if she could find the one? The first had seemed almost exciting, with how illicit it was. The next two were sad, and reflecting on it, the first wasn’t anything special either. But there was something arousing about this power dynamic.

The first had been meant to save a deal, the second was a nudge sent from the first, it had felt like technically she was still in control. It was only by the third that those words had been uttered. You like this, don’t you?

It was when he pinned her to the bed, a virgin yet trying to act like an alpha male. It wasn’t convincing, but in the moment, she was wet. But then he had said those words, and she had folded, been his sex doll, his fucking Barbie doll, his sexy little bimbo, and she found herself here now, the elevator opening in a Days Inn. As she stepped in, she was confronted by herself in the mirror. She had started to cry as she reflected on what just happened. Her hair was tousled, she was a mess. Well fucked, like the whore she was.

She was a slut. A whore. A stupid bimbo who wanted a firm hand, but didn’t know how to find one in this world of soy boys and honest gentleman. Somebody to take hold of her and pin her to the ground and really fuck her. Like those movies she watched. The 50 Shades series.

She’d always had a fantasy of finding a man who could claim her completely, utterly. Somebody who could make her his own, leave her with nary a thought of leaving him, fucked stupid, fucked like the bimbo she was.

As the elevator dings again, Ashley looks at herself in the mirror, seeing her expression grow aroused.

“I wish that I could just be the bimbo to some Master, who could take this sexy body of mine and punish me for all of these stupid slutty thoughts.”

___

“Ah that’s better.”

Yuki stands behind Ashley, though the camera can hardly see her, only her gesticulating arms beyond a wild mane of tousled blonde locks. Big lips covered in a sexy pink lipstick, boobs reaching K, a butt large and toned. It is no shock the title beneath her.

The Bimbo.

Now Ashley is the very picture of a bimbo, shopping bags in her arms. The only thing that shields her body is a sheer pink microdress, which barely contains her sizable assets.

“I won’t lie, I mostly had this path because it’s a standard and I have to explain to the producers when I don’t have it when it’s such a tried and true audience favorite. But there’s a beauty in it, especially with your gift.”

Yuki smacks her head comically. “Oh, right your gift, how could I forget? It was quite the little landmine.”

Take My Everything- Gives Wendy’s tfs to another person for 24 hours. During this period, all tfs are reverted for Wendy. 10,000 BP, limited time sale 5,000 BP

“So for those keeping track at home, that would be…”

Close Enough- Ashley’s body is changed just a bit, a cup size here, a stomach tightening there. Just enough so her subordinate would struggle to recognize her.

The Embrace of Leather- Ashley will feel cold, almost like she is freezing, if she is not wearing some form of leather, even on the hottest of summer days.

Good Girl- Will experience a wave of pleasure when her master praises her.

“And of course!”

Fantasies Come True- Ashley will find that she has always had a fantasy of a strong master, taking and claiming her for his own. That the idea of being his absolute **** is the most erotic thing she can possibly imagine.

“So you see, that’s why her visions differ, but don’t worry, I took the better wish!” Yuki continues on teasing the bimbo, tormenting her, but Ben’s eyes go to somebody closer to him. He looks at Wendy, as her breasts shrink a bit. And as he feels those memories of her leaving him after he refused to be her Master leave. The old memories filter back, a simpler breakup.

Only for them to be replaced with memories of Ashley constantly teasing him, trying to get him to take charge. Of that first night with her taking a new edge.

She wanted me to pin her, claim her utterly, but I wasn’t ready to then. We fixed that with the orgy with Callie.

Ben knows this is not him, but as he looks on Ashley, he can’t imagine that she wasn’t always like this. With a body like that, it was all too easy to buy that she was always just a bimbo slut.

Monica stands over the gifts, waiting for Yuki to finish her nearly Vaudevillian performance. As Yuki turns back, Monica grabs one of the two remaining gifts. But she just stands there, as Yuki waits. “Well? Open it.”

Monica looks at Yuki. “I will. But first, let me ask you. These gifts… you knew where they would all land before this game even started, right? Yua got smaller breasts. Emma got Callie’s in order to punish her. You outright admitted that two of them would’ve been problems if not for where they landed. So how?”

Yuki looks a bit puzzled, before smiling. “Ah, that question. Well, the simple answer is time. The complicated answer is that we are all bound within our roles my dear. You should know that more than anybody. It really is a shame that our audience ranked you so low. Hopefully your night tonight convinces them otherwise. I want you here to play whatever role your fellow contestants can imagine of you…”

Monica seems to brush aside the last bit. “So you knew I would choose the left package?” “Of course dear, though there are certain places I can’t see. The audience is beyond my knowledge, so who survives tomorrow is completely beyond my ken. Now, back to the present, open the present, enough stalling. I know you’re thinking about switching, but I’m going to tell you, knowing I know that, would you even bother?” Monica looks like she is going to change anyways, but as she bends to put down the present, she hesitates, then puts her hand on the present. Monica nods, tearing at the paper.

___

“You shoulda seen this girl, I swear, she had breasts out to here.” Another workman laughs, ribbing the man. “It doesn’t count when her gut goes past it Eric.” The room erupted in laughter, before it was drowned out with a mechanical lathe.

Monica was in the middle of the group, but she neither laughed nor added to the conversation. She merely sighed as the conversation dimmed, before swelling again as the din of equipment began to subside. “Yeah, yeah, well her body wasn’t the only thing bangin’. Woman knew how to ride. Her thighs could probably crush a watermelon.”

One of the other guys pipes in, “God I wish that was my head.” The room erupted in laughter again as the man took on a willowy voice like he was some emasculated softboy, despite being one of the more muscular men.

Nate, the biggest and oldest guy looks up from his own equipment, clearly annoyed. “That’s enough chucklefucks. Do I need to get HR down here to make another presentation? Focus on your work and stop lying like a bunch of teenage boys saying how you banged the entire female half of the school. Or we could not involve HR, and I could just hand you your papers now.”

Eric chastened, tried to defend himself. “We didn’t mean nothing bossman, I was just saying how my weekend went when Lin asked, right. You gotta live when you’re young. And I mean, Monica’s cool with the mantalk, right?”

Monica stopped, surprised by being roped into the conversation. “Oh, uh, yeah, though I didn’t join in because I didn’t want to show you up. My girl from three weeks ago makes yours look like an old hag.” That caused the room to again burst into laughter, but Monica was not one of them. She focused on her work, hoping that time would clear this conversation from the sweat-stained air. Despite the cool autumn air outside, the shop always ran hot, the machines’ engines pretty much assured that. That and the constant moving of supplies that sometimes weighed up to 50 lbs. Sometimes 100 if the boys were trying to show off and Nate’s back was turned.

The testosterone-laden air seemed to abate for a bit, but only because Nate’s eye kept the young bucks in check. And nary an eye landed on Monica as she carried the completed product to the loading dock, appropriately bending at the knee, both to spare her back and deny them the show. They had long since stopped thinking of Monica as a woman, putting her in the mental category of tomboy roughneck on a good day and 100% confirmed lesbian at the other end. Although she once caught one of them using the d word, and that had escalated to a firm talking to from Nate and a visit to Maricela.

Despite attempts from Maricela to ‘refine the work culture’, it’d always last a month before people would go back to trying to show off and assert themselves with their macho bullshit. At least nobody sprained their back for the last 6 months after trying to deadlift 200 lbs for no goddamn reason.

Monica walked from one end of the room to the other, from shipping to receiving. She grabbed the pallet jack, moving the materials back to the press machine she was working on. The random tchotchkes and/or limited run collectibles wouldn’t make themselves after all. She was working on a set of glass keychains at the moment, and as the first of the next batch came out, she looked at the cute design, and she sighed.

It was cute. She sort of wanted something like it, but she knew that the second she wore something so obviously girly the guys would be all over her, teasing her and mocking her. You borrow your girlfriend’s keys today, Monica? Did they not make it in blue, was pink your only option?

But then she looked at the item and smiled. Fuck them. I’ll get what I want. And if they think their biting comments will make me embarrassed, they’re fucking wrong. I’m buying one tonight.

Her mind lingers for a moment longer on this, before getting on with her work day. Maybe this will make them think of me as a woman, and they’ll treat me like one. Maybe give me a look once in a while. I wish that they would, that they wouldn’t treat me like I was some piece of furniture.

_____

“Another tough project, but I think I nailed it. Maybe I should work in Production too. I mean, what does distilled misogyny look like? I think pretty close to this.” Yuki says this as Monica moans within her glass prison.

She looks straight out of the 1950s, in a poodle skirt covered in polka dots. Her arms are thin as is her waist, much narrower than normal, maybe indicating a corset beneath the otherwise Stepford-esque outfit. And her breasts are massive, giving the otherwise staid outfit a look of almost spilling sexuality. Beneath her are the words:

A Woman Trapped in a Man’s World

“Hmm, but given that little display, maybe I should talk to your HR manager, she clearly needs to work on keeping toxicity out of the workplace. I mean, making fun of effeminate men, scandalous.” She turns, as if to go to Maricela right this moment before comically turning again. “That is, if we didn’t also need to give you your gift.” The gift at Monica’s feet popped open, pink gas filling the glass prison.

“Ah, this should be fun with your trademark transformations. I was getting bored of you just sleeping with Callie, she’s too easy of a mark you know.”

Dreams of a Lonely Housewife- Whoever is the greatest distance (physical, emotional) from the user will share a dream with the user, both sharing in the sensation of a sexy dream. The exact content of the dream is the darkest fetish both participants share. 3750 BP

“And yes, you will be our little actress to give them their darkest fetish. Can’t wait to see what roles our little actress falls into. Now, who gave you this… Oh, it’s Maricela. Well, well, what a fantastic segue, to our spon… Ha, kidding, kidding.”

Yuki pops out from Maricela’s shadow within the same shot, suddenly teleporting the vast distance. “Now, I know you’re not exactly Harvard material, but I think we both know what is going to happen. One present, not much choice. So let’s get going, this contest has dragged on long enough, and I haven’t even gotten to my super big extra special surprise conclusion! Now, chop chop little moo cow, unless you want me to eliminate you today rather than tomorrow. You are last in popularity after all.”

“But the last one, it’s…” Maricela had been there, and the one present she knew about other than her own hadn’t been chosen. But as Yuki put her finger to Maricela’s ass and shocked it like a cattle prod, Maricela quickly goes to the last present opening it.

___

“Ricky took me to Japan, can you believe it? We’ve wanted to go for so long, and he rented a real beautiful room at this expensive hot springs inn. It was just the best.” The PTA meeting wasn’t for another 20 minutes, and Maricela groaned as she prepared for the worst part. The one-upsmanship from a bunch of bored housewives.

“Oh, is that so? Last year I went to Cozumel for an entire month. Vic serenaded me on the beach, but of course you know that, I put it up on my instagram.” Carol, the absolute most heinous of what millennials would call a Karen, responds almost immediately. But as Maricela sighs, the queen bitch catches her.

“Oh, Marimari, how did you spend your summer vacation this year?” Maricela didn’t give her permission to call her that, but that only seemed to make the woman love calling her that even more. But Maricela was trapped. She could ignore her, and take the snide comments all throughout the meeting. Or she could respond in kind.

“Oh, that? We took Mateo to Disneyworld. And last month we also went on a romantic cruise. It was like the Love Boat. Remember, that show, or are you too young to have seen that classic bit of television.” Maricela was confident to let it go, but Carol could sense the vagary in the moment?

“Oh, why don’t you tell me then? I’m sure you could teach a young girl like me how the pros really show romance.” The shark smiled as Maricela looked at her with the look of prey caught within their jaws.

“Oh well you know, we flew to Florida. We said hi to Mickey and Minnie and Donald and Goofy. Then we went on a ship, went allll around the caribbean. Diego sang romantic songs to me. We had wine on the deck as the sun set. And you know, I got a massage, it was great… Now, uh, I think everyone is here, shouldn’t we start?”

Carol looks at her, and smiles, showing mercy knowing she just humiliated the older woman, “Oh yes, we should start, you’re so right.” Carol opened the meeting, and Maricela was left to stew over what really happened.

They had gone on a trip at least… well they did three years ago. They had gone to Florida and Disney and been on a cruise, but that was sort of just one thing, riding a Disney cruise ship for three days out of Florida to the Bahamas. And it was hard to call that romantic when, well, Mateo was a room away. The first night especially was not romantic, as Diego had gotten on the ship, gorged himself on the buffet, then promptly fell asleep in a food coma for the entire night.

They had managed to slip away on the second night when Mateo had fallen asleep early at 7 pm, but they had just gone to the bar, after sunset had passed. And Diego had sung for her… and the entire rest of the bar, after a few too many wine coolers and dollar beers prompted him to boot up the karaoke machine and begin belting out “Can You Feel the Love Tonight?” to a bunch of winedrunk moms, though Diego had only looked at her. And the floor and ceiling as he stumbled back to the bar, but none of the other women. Small blessings. And the massage was a generous way to put his drunk attempts at foreplay before he thrust a few times and came.

At least they went to the Bahamas. The gift shop, the iconic harbor, the McDonalds. They were really there, Margaritaville blasting from the speakers constantly, when it wasn’t playing Kokomo. They even got pickpocketed, but Maricela had been smart enough to only take $40 and left the rest on the ship. And by the last night, Mateo had been running around so much that Maricela was exhausted and turned in early herself.

Suddenly everybody raised their hands, and Maricela broke from her reminiscence. “The chess team will have 89.5% of last year’s budget has passed. Now, onto the next matter, the school crossing guard has demanded a raise of $1060 in order to keep up with inflation…” Maricela looks at the others, and she wishes deeply in her heart.

I wish I could live a life of excitement. Where I could show off and be seen. A life watched and enjoyed.

__

Maricela suddenly felt very cold. She looked down to realize she was naked, and she tried to move her arms, but they were stuck above her head, her arms in a position of pure unadulterated joy. Her legs were also wide open, her figure an X like she had just finished some dance number confidently. A look of celebration.

Behind her, the school PTA board is broadcast on the back edge of the snowglobe, clearly fake from any perspective except the one the camera is in. They look like they are applauding as Maricela stands, a spectacle. The words beneath her read:

The Bon Vivant

“I could’ve gone with the exhibitionist, but this fits and can be used to expand beyond simple exhibitionism, if you last that long Ms. Last Place.” Yuki stands within the globe, just behind Maricela. She takes the wrapping paper off the box, before lifting a ball of energy.

“Ohhh, this is what you knew was coming to you. Well, let me help you apply it to your sensitive cheeks.” Yuki slaps Maricela’s ass hard, and if it was not for the magic keeping her in place, Maricela would’ve surely fallen over. Instead, she is **** to maintain position as she moans lustily.

‘The Bunisher’- Can orgasm from spanking. 4500 BP

“Aww, who’s my naughty little MILF, you’re so deserving of this transformation, so deserving of this punishment? That’s right, you can now orgasm from spanking. As a Mommy, you have to able to give as well as receive spankings, that’s just common sense.”

Yuki for her part lands two more spanks, one on each cheek before shaking her hand like it hurts. “Aw? Is Mommy turning into a little painslut? Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll get used to it, one way or the other.”

Yuki leaves Maricela’s globe, walking back to the tree, where Ben stands alone.

He stands, clearly on edge. “So what now? You said something about some grand finale? You going to show me my dark secret wish where I wished that I could not be alone? You know all of those wishes are bullshit right? Everybody has moments where life seems boring and they want excitement. Everybody has moments where they feel alone, where they feel alienated. You’re not helping them.”

Yuki smiles. “Oh, well, you caught me, my grand illusion of beneficence is ruined. How will I ever fall asleep at night, knowing that I’m really just a sadistic monster? I guess I’m going to have to let you go, now that you’ve revealed how you’re only here to suffer. Now, let us begin.”

“Fine, show me whatever shitty memory you want. The time with Wendy? My first day working at the job and thinking a lot of girls were attractive? What grand finale do you have planned?”

Yuki smiles, her razor sharp smile. “No silly, why would we want to have a flashback of an ugly guy like you?”

Yuki makes an exaggerated bow. “No, the finale to this challenge is my backstory.”

_____

Hey, check out the Harem Hotel Discord, it’s pretty cool, you can talk with authors and other readers. And if CHYOA out of nowhere nukes this story, well you’ll find the next place we end up, ya dig?

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