Kevin Date 1, Part 1: Plushies and Persuasions

Kevin

Kevin had an interesting day planning a date with his Platonic best friend. In fact, he kind of felt like he put in way more effort than a simple hang-out would require.

First stop was to scope out that arcade from the tour. It is something straight out of a childhood birthday party place from the 80’s. Neon lighting fills the room with a kaleidoscope of color. All of the classics are here. A whole slew of arcade games. Skee-ball. The little basketsball hoop game. The quarter-eating “stop the spinning light in the right zone” game. Whack-a-Mole. The claw game. The other quarter-eating “stick the coin in the slot at the right time to get the game to push a bunch of coins into a pit” game. The bell ringer game. Even some kind of punching bag thing.

Two challenges arise. First, the games are all a little bit sexual. Some, especially the arcade games, to the point where they aren’t immediately recognizable. Some make him a little bit uncomfortable; the idea of taking a hammer to an erect penis in this arcade’s version of Whack-a-Mole is deeply disturbing. He asks the attendant about that. The green-haired bunny-girl (the name tag reads “Bonnie #132”) just kind of shrugged. “The games we got are the games we got.”

The second challenge is at the prize counter. As expected, many of the games give out tickets that can be exchanged for prizes. At some point, he’ll need to come back, as the pricey prizes are... interesting. A thousand tickets for a free ASI could be powerful. But, the prizes more suitable for this “date” lacked a little variety.

“So, what’s with the green-haired dragon girl? Why is she the only person on all of the fun date items?”

“Oh, Mama Glitterdust ordered a bunch of her Harem Hotel merch to stock the prize counter.”

Who? Kevin ignored that question to focus on his more immediate concern, “And if Mona wants a different plushie, it’s ‘too bad, what we got is what we got?’”

The bunny-girl whistled, “You really want Mama Glitterdust to hate you, dontcha big boy? Are you booking the arcade for your date tonight? If so, I will make a run to the retail store to get a bigger variety of items. You just want items from my moms’ time on the show or you want stuff from other other seasons, too?”

“What does booking the arcade get us?”

“Four hours of unlimited play for both of you for 50 BP. Games normally cost 5 BP an attempt. We can even handle dinner. Just submit the order to Mama Skye.”

Kevin thought that it sounds like a decent deal, so he bought the date pass. He then asked, “You wouldn’t happen to know what other other seasons Mona would be interested in? We only really watched a bit of the HH season...”

Kevin: -50 BP

Again, the bunny-girl shrugged. “I can ask Ophelia, but I don’t personally know. I just (wo)man the arcade.”

“Surprise me then.”

The bunny-girl saluted, then proceeded to lazily slouch down on the prize counter. Kevin waved, then headed over to lunch. He caught Skye after she served everyone and negotiated dinner that would both feel appropriate at an arcade and fit Mona’s diet bounty. That was a weird conversation. The challenge there was to limit carbs to just vegetables, which felt like two different violations of the junk food one would expect at an arcade. He settled on keto nachos, figuring that Mona would be more willing to eat veggies if they were covered in cheese. Skye brought out some homemade keto chips and he was pleasantly surprised by them. Apparently almond flour, low-fat mozzarella cheese, and the right spices equals basically Doritos?

Kevin then went out to check out that retail store Bonnie the arcade bunny mentioned. He had a bit of an existential crisis, as he saw that he has already been merchandised. Pre- and post-transformation items are already on display. The shopkeep, a pink-haired cat-girl named Little Miss, tried to put him to work autographing merch, just for him to be put to work by Bonnie lugging the prizes he requested to the arcade. He barely had time to shower and get dressed in a fresh casual t-shirt and jeans before needing to head up there.

Now, he is in the foyer to the Mistress Suite. He takes a few moments to absorb the room. Mostly empty plinths line the hallway. The one statue there makes his blood boil. That bastard. He thinks about charging the thing, toppling it with one slam of righteous indignation; he wonders if he can smite with his horns. Instead, Kevin knocks on the door. Time for that later.

The door opens just a crack and Mona slips through. She’s hiding something. At least Mona anticipated that this wasn’t going to be a romantic evening. Her clothes are clean, her hair is combed, and she is wearing makeup, but everything is still a casual affair. She has on a graphic t-shirt of Sailor Silver from the magical girl anime of the same name, a high-waisted skirt to cinch her gut in, and a pair of riding boots. She smiles, pointedly not looking at the statue.

“Hey, Mona. You look nice.”

Kevin: +1 XP (Complimented Mistress’s Appearance)

“Hey, Kevin. You look nice, too. Sooo, what are we doing?”

“I figured you’d like to hit the arcade. I bet we’ve all been running you too ragged to let you relax and play some games. That sound like a fun hangout?”

Mona beams, “Yeah, it does. Carry me downstairs? Still suffering from leg day.” She makes the toddler uppy motion.

That deserves a little light teasing. “I’ll either carry you downstairs now, or upstairs after we run around an arcade for several hours. Your choice.”

Kevin is proud that he keeps a straight face despite how pouty Mona looks. She loops and arm around his elbow. “Just for that, I am going to win the heaviest prize possible and make you carry me holding it!”

The both laugh down the stairs. I really did miss this.

Craig

Craig enters the Media Room after dinner. He sees the comfy couches, the Jacuzzis, the concession stand. What he doesn’t see is a way to start a season, much less a way to find what he is looking for. What he hears is a low buzzing, emanating from the stand. What he smells is a combination of movie snack foods and feminine arousal, both of which are also emanating from the stand. He walks over, taking a big whiff.

The strawberry blonde bunny bimbo on the other side of the stand has her whole fist up inside her and a vibrator held right to her little nub of nerves. She is slowly thrusting her arm back and forth, moaning like a whore. Once she notices that she has an audience, she winks, but doesn’t stop her self-pleasure. She groans, “What can I do for you, you naughty, naughty boy?”

She’s not disgusted by me? Huh. “Well, I was wanting to study some Harem Hotel. I am looking for seasons where a contestant bends the Mistress to his will. Do you know how I can pull the film?”

The bunny quivers in orgasm, not breaking eye contact. The way she flexes her hand inside her so she can pull it out is a little disturbing. She stands up to lean on the counter, displaying her cleavage and offering her fluid-dripping hand for Craig. She responds, “Well, you are asking for something forbidden. Seasons that collapse like that are usually struck from the offerings on demand. The network does not like embarrassments.”

Of course they’d not make it easy. Fucking dykes.

“Buuuuut, I do know a season that will let you see an example anyways. The Host was a contestant on another season.”

“Like the blue bitch dyke?”

“Wrong. One, that’s one of my moms you are talking about. And two, Mama Tyalangan was the Mistress, not a contestant. This Host was a contestant who won her season and used her wish to become a Host. That origin season was purged, but bits of it are available for consumption as flashbacks in the Host’s current season. Not the best season ever because all the best seasons have a bunny-girl, but you might be able to get what you want.”

She still is holding out her femcum dripping hand. Gross. “Great. Load up those flashbacks then.”

“Nope. Don’t wanna.”

“The fuck? Load up the episodes, bitch!”

She looks at her soaked fingers, “Nah. What do I get out of it?”

“Just do your job, you dumb fuckin’ dyke!”

The bitch has the nerve to snort, “Rude. Is my job to help you subvert the show? No. In fact, it’s the opposite. So, what are you going to give me to help you? If not,” she pauses just long enough to slap down what looks like a phone book, “here is the list of seasons available to you. You can always pick one at random. You might even get lucky. The season I am thinking of is listed.”

Craig sighs. This bitch. “What do you want?”

“To ride your cage while you watch. I looooove having sex with a bad boy.”

“But, I don’t get to cum!”

“Not my problem. You want to guess from the list of hundreds of thousands of seasons or you wanna let me have a ride?”

Craig grumbles as he pulls down his pants and lays on one of the longer couches. The strawberry blonde is already not wearing pants, so she hops onto his caged cock and starts playing with the remote. She seems to enjoy bouncing on his hips. An episode starts. A tall, muscular redhead is working an old fashioned forge to repair some even older fashioned armor. What the fuck is this?

Mona

“Wow, this place is so cool!”

The lights. The sounds. The slightly sticky floor. The smell of stale popcorn and overheated pizza in the air. Mona has never been to an arcade before and is instantly impressed by it. A bunny-girl slouches at a prize desk and the contents draw Mona’s eyes.

“Wanna check out what we can win?” Kevin asks.

Mona nods excitedly and tries to drag Kevin over to it. He puts up just enough resistance to sell the act. And the prizes are interesting. Sure, there are the chintzy cheap prizes: bouncy balls and pencils and plastic dragon-girls and whatnot. Some of the candy costs more than Mona expected. The bunny-girl stares, then answers the unasked question, “The pricier candy all grant some temporary transformation effects. Lasts an hour, if you want to spice things up.”

Ooooh, interesting. The plushies look cool. Some are pricier than others, even though they all (mostly) the same size. The green dragon plushie that looks like the length of her bed upstairs is obviously expensive, but the rest don’t make sense. Again, the question gets answered, “Most of the plushies have enchantments based on the person depicted. We do have mundane versions, if you would prefer. They’ll be cheaper.”

“Neat!” Mona wonders about the magic of each plushie. Funny enough, the most expensive thing on offer isn’t the giant dragon plushie, but a weird dildo? Ten thousand tickets for it. “What’s a PP and why is it that expensive?”

When the item gets explained, Mona gets a silly grin. I could make Kevin even bigger? Hawt! Or, ooh, make my love tunnel bigger so cocks don’t hurt as bad? Dangit! I should have asked for that with Tyalangan this morning, too!

“So, how can I win a bunch of tickets?”

Kevin chuckles, “We play the games and do well at them. Right?”

The bunny-girl nods. “Right. Have fun. I will be here until curfew. Dinner will be delivered shortly.”

“Cool!” Mona chirps. She looks around. Oooh, they have an arcade game thingy with that modded Mugen game I played with Ophelia down here. “C’mon, Kevin! Time for you to face the penguin wrath of my Ora main!”

Tegan

After dinner, Tegan is going to do something her new friend(?) Gaia suggested. She is going to civilly get something from the Host for the embarrassing quest rewards and improper payment. Now, I just need to find her.

The blue freak whispers, “Boo!” right in Tegan’s ear.

Tegan jumps, yelping. She turns and growls, staring daggers at her.

The freak smiles, acting like she doesn’t know what Tegan wants. “You wanted to see me, Tegan?”

Tegan tries to keep the anger out of her voice, like Gaia suggested. She might have succeeded, “You made my quest reward too embarrassing! And I may not have asked for it if you paid me for my bounty when you should have! I demand compensation!”

“I will start by apologizing again. Mona was being attacked by a vine monster at the time that you leveled and some details slipped through the cracks. I did correct it in public as soon as I caught it, but, you are right. You deserve a little recompense. What, within reason, would you like?”

Wait. What? She’s just going to give me something? I should have thought about what I wanted. Ah... “Your bra! You don’t need one, with those giant tits!”

“You, Tegan, are very bad at assuming that people are wearing bras.” The Host unbuttons her shirt enough to show off the entirety of her cleavage. No bra.

Tegan stares at the space between the blue freak’s breasts. Her mind goes blank for several moments. The freak at least doesn’t tease her about staring, just clearing her throat. The angry archer forces herself from the alluring vision. “Then give me something else?”

“Free lesson for you and someone else you need to make friends with together?” the Host offers.

“That AND a free lesson for me, now!”

“Greedy little fox,” the Host notes, “Fine. Acrobatics, Sleight of Hand, or Stealth?”

Hmm... which is the most useful? Acrobatics seems unneeded. How often will I need to do a flip? Sleight of Hand is just for card tricks and the like? These ears and tail is just going to make me stick out...

“Something else? None of those options seem useful.”

Then, the Host explains all of the implications of those three skills. Acrobatics is about evading incoming attacks and making tricky jumps in a number of scenarios (like, say, hopping from a tree branch to another in order to get a better angle on a target). Stealth is about hiding in a wide variety of locations, muffling sound, blending into darkness, et cetera. And Sleight of Hand is about fine motor control: knot tying, bowstring manipulation, pickpocketing. Tegan thinks about the implications. I could steal a bra off of some big tittied cow!

The decision makes itself.