Nighttime rituals

William returned to the tent after considering buying the gym for another 20 minutes. He had spotted Becky near a fire close to the sanitary building but didn't want to approach her, fearing an ambush by Missy.

The tent was empty. Heather hadn't returned yet. There was no sign she had been here; The sleeping bags, pillows and mats were in the same place Jesse had told him to place them. Where could she be? William decided to do the smart thing instead of looking all over and called her.

“What do you want, Ms Williams?” The cranky heiress answered her phone.

“Heather, it is William, not Rebecca Williams. You know your sleeping buddy. I checked the tent, and you weren't there.” His reply was filled with mild frustration.

“Sorry, Mr Moore. I saw your name and assumed Miss Williams was calling. I haven't been there. I was looking for something presentable to wear for the night. However, nothing I see fits my criteria.” Her voice dripped condescension and feigned helplessness with each word she used.

With a groan some distance from the mic at being called Willy of all things, he answered, “Let me see what you have; it can't be as bad as you make it out to be.”

“Thank you. See you in a moment, Moore. I am at the sanitary building.” And she hung up. The woman didn't have the decency to say goodbye. Nope, she just hung up…

William didn't want to go, didn't deem it smart, but he had to at the same time. He had already said yes before he was reminded that all the clothes were stored in the sanitary building. The one his scorned lover was camping next to. After composing himself and, maybe more importantly, hoping she was still with Chris and under a command, he left for the building.

Within the sanitary building, three piles stood in front of Heather: one, straight-up lingerie for sleeping; the second, nighties that are basically see-through; and last, deep-cut tops with booty shorts. None was appealing for sleeping outside. All of them seemed cold, especially if she needed to go outside from their tent to this place for nighttime tinkling. She wasn’t prepared for any of this and was in a mild panic as Mr Moore entered the building.

“So are these your options?” He said calmly.

“Yes, handsome, any you want me to wear this night, particularly?” The heiress said, compelled by something within her.

“Yes, this might work.” The boar of a man said, holding up a piece of lingerie with a half-bra and a pair of crotchless panties. Because of the same force that had her make that flirtatious comment, she decided to put it on.

Wear sexy lingerie for other contestant: First time bonus +1 (Heather)

“How do I look?” she said with a pained smile, having chosen to wear the chastity belt along with the lingerie to protect her modesty.

“Hey, if you don’t want to wear it, don’t.”

“No, sweet cheeks, it's just that I am afraid I get cold whilst walking from here to the tent. Care to carry me?” Why is this damn compulsion making such flattatious comments?

“Sure would be a good workout.” The man picked her up, walking them back to the tent. He was warm, warm enough to stave off the worst of the cold. Heather didn’t like it being treated as a damsel in distress, but more and more she had become one.

As they jogged back to the tent, William didn’t spot the monster known as Missy. “Thank you, Mr Moore.”

“No more suck-up nicknames now that you no longer need me? Are you a manipulative bitch like Missy?” He responded, insulted.

“No, Mr Moore, it is this damn transformation I get from Samson; I have no control over when it activates.” She managed to force it out even though something tried to stop her. “But if you want me to go down, that is okay; use me as you see fit tonight.” She said with a wink. The curse came back with a vengeance.

“Sure, if you think that will make you feel better. No wait, that is that damned transformation again, isn’t it? I have been scolded once already for not paying attention.”

“Suit yourself. I will have sweet dreams with or without you.” The heiress said before wrapping herself into her sleeping bag, which was surprisingly warm. William decided to also climb in for an early night and set himself an alarm. “You couldn’t leave me alone, couldn’t you?” She continued as he ended up in the single two-person sleeping bag.

“No, and there is only this sleeping bag. I couldn’t exactly sleep elsewhere.” At this, Heather wanted to let out one of her many soon to be trade marked groans, but she didn’t. She was too tired to be done with this weird, exhausting day that had taken so many of her liberties. William fell asleep as soon as he hit the pillow, a blow-up one which wasn’t perfect, but at least it was something.

Becky sat outside for another hour, seeing both William and Heather pass by; they didn’t interact with her. Why would they? She didn’t have anything to offer them. Chris had praised her for the plan with Missy, though a small victory. He hadn’t spent time with her. The Jessies had taken up all of his time, first by just hanging out, then their disaster. Then the disaster that is Missy fell into his lap, or better put, was handed over by her. All the mistakes of today seemed to overshadow that tiny victory she wanted to hold onto. Could she remember it? Would she allow herself to accept it?

An answer came in the form of a monster that had woken up complaining that she needed to go to the toilet and that Becky was too far from the toilet. Becky decided to pour what felt like multiple buckets out of her flask over the tiny fire and go to bed after they had prepared themselves in the sanitary building. “Is the tent close enough that you can go back here if I stand in the entrance? We forgot to check that earlier.”

Missy ran back and forth, giving a thumbs up as she was brushing her teeth. No love was shared between the duo, but at least Missy knew she shouldn’t be harmful. “You did well finding that transformation. You and the dweeb did well. L… Di…” She tried to say something about Chris, but only unflattering nicknames came to mind. “You know who tried to talk sense into me? It didn’t work.”

“Say, Chris, I will reinforce it.”

“Ch… ch.. Chris.” Missy had said his name so many times; why was it so hard?

“Good girl”, Becky said, petting the bitch she had decided to train. Much to said bitch’s chagrin, it worked; she felt good about the process. “Now let's keep working on your interactions. Who am I?”

“Fatass.”

“No, try again.”

“Bitch”

“No, again, if anyone is that, it’s you.” Becky received a glare for it, worth it though. The bitch needs to know who she is.

As a joke, Missy says, “Owner.”

Playing along, unaware of the consequences Becky decided to respond with, “Good girl,” and a pet. Once shouldn’t be enough to reinforce the behaviour, right? Becky tried to get her to say normal-ish non-insulting names for the others, but Missy couldn’t. “Missy, be honest with me. Are you fucking with me? Are you deliberately not saying normal names?”

“No, but now that I am out of Ch… Chris’s cabin, I am allowed to speak my mind.”

“Good girl saying Chris’s name without being prompted. This is beyond speaking your mind, however. It means to voice your opinions; that doesn’t mean every thought you have.” Becky grabbed the leash. “You will forget any command related to speech other than those related to your trigger words.” After letting go, she said, “Try again.” Now she is perfectly able to say everyone's names without a weird compulsion holding her back. Becky decided to reinforce them for safety, that it might help overcome mild compulsions like that small clause. What a small hidden sentence can cause. “Do you need me to amend that, by the way? That you can cum from others?”

“No. Why would I, Becky?”

“I don’t know something Chris said. You good girl for saying my name.” She pet the girl as if she had already become her doggy. “You know what, if you wanted to, you could have two dates with Chris back to back if you came with me.”

“No, Owner, I will not unless you force me.”

“Good girl calling me ‘Owner’; maybe if I get you trained further, I will drag you along anyway and demand you take me along.”

“Taking you along is no problem for me; it gets the heat off me,” Missy said after receiving the warm, addictive feeling of good girl.

The two girls went to bed, and as they went to sleep, Becky’s hand fell on the leash as she mumbled. “I wish you would only hear good girl from me and Chris. Let all others fall on deaf ears, and you be our own little doggy when we want to.”