Through A Mirror, Partly

Stan and Erica traveled down a set of stairs that spiraled down like a miniature castle. There was a short hallway decorated with pictures of celebraties with a good looking man, with overy oiled hair. Standing there at the end of the hallway like a minotaur in a maze with a tall dark skinned woman who could have given Olympias competition in height, and had her beat in bulk. She was dressed in a stripper’s version of a police uniform complete with aviators and fuzzy handcuffs. “Name?”

“There can not be enough people in there to need a list.” Erica grumbled.

“Stan… uh, just Stan.”

Aviators looked down at a clipboard. “Not on the list.” She then cast an invisible glance at Erica, and unhooked a velvet rope. “She can go in.”

“What the hell?” Stan threw his hands up.

“You too.” She held out her hand, and beconed two more women through. A girl in a hoodie, and a girl in soccer shorts.

“Come on!” Stan Whined, who are these two?”

The girl in the hoody, pulled down her hood, and glanced at him from over her own pair of aviators. “I’m part of your harem Bro.”

The girl in soccershorts coughed, and shuffled around ackwardly. “I’m just on vacation.”

“What are you two doing here?” Erica grabbed the wrists of her friends, and pulled them past Aviators.

“It was her idea.” Molly said breathlessly.

Marie rubbed her head, more proud than emberassed. “We binged this entire season and don’t even think of inviting us? Dick move.”

“She really wanted to meet NayNay.” Molly said.

Erica rubbed her temples. “We are in so much trouble, how did you get here?”

Molly answered this one. “I spent an hour in that trunk with her sandpaper legs expoliating my face.”

Erica giggled at that. Being stuck in a cramped space with nothing but Marie’s stoner aura didn’t sound like that much fun. She supposed the two deserved a reward for their trials. “Alright, but before we party you have to help me find the owner. We have to get this guy in there.”

The two girls craned their necks upwards to the heavens where Aviators uncaring face seemed to look off into the distance. That didn’t look like a fight they could win. “Alright Mr.Man.” Molly pulled Marie and Erica into the club, “see you on the other side!”

Their suspicions were correct. The thursday lunch crowd seemed to be overlooking this little gem. The massive space, was pratically desserted with maybe a dozen people in total filling the space, all women. The first level of the warehouse were tables, and a raised dance floor that stood before a D.J setup that soared above everything like the tower of a god. A massive bar took up the East side, where a big boobied lady with blue hair was doing inventory on the stock. The second floor was a series of glass windows that peaked into various lounges or bedrooms where privacy was not the main draw. Then in the center of all of that was a suite was obviously the manager’s office, which stood even above the DJ’s platform, above God himself.

“Bingo.” Erica shot a finger gun at the suite. “We gotta get up there and…”

“Wooooooooooooooow” A waify brunette stumbled towards them like a leaf on a light breeze. She was naked except for a pair of outdoorsy boots that reminded Erica of Boudica. She had feathers in her messy hair, and had a bevy of candy necklaces dangling from her. Her eyes were glassy, but she managed to take hold of Marie’s hands, and hold them to her small breasts. This woman was glistening in rainbow colored sweat, she looked like a gatoraid commercial. “Your aura is like, pure Indigo, it’s craaazy.”

“Oh my god it’s Naynay!” Marie squeed, and looked to her friends.

The flighty girl giggled half conciously. “I aaaaaaaaam.” She then went over to Molly. “Woooooooow you don’t even haave an aura. That’s so spooky.”

“Um, heh.” Molly looked around for help. “Thanks, you too.”

NayNay smiled and closed her eyes, nodding as if Molly had just given her profound advice. She then reached for Erica’s hands, but when she looked up at Erica her glassy eyes sharpened… with fear. “Oh… oh!” She backed away. “You’re evil! Oh god!” She tumbled back and tumbled into a table. “Ah, ah!” She ran her tongue along her arm, in an attempt to quell her panic with whatever was in her sweat, but it didn’t appear to work. So she dropped to her hands, and started to crawl under the table.

Both Marie and Molly looked at Erica, who looked severly hurt by this. “What the fuck?” Molly mouthed.

“It’s okay.” Erica **** a laugh. “That’s pretty much how my aunt reacted when I came out during Christmas.”

“I think I should comfort her.” Marie said, squatting to get under the table.

“Marie.” Molly pulled on her ear, and got the queen to her feet. “Not until we help Erica, you said.”

“Fiiiiiiiine.”

The three started into the club, and as they did Molly leaned into Erica. "She looks the same age as when the show as going."

"I noticed that too." Erica said. "That was like, twenty years ago. Wasn't she the forest ranger?"

"Yeah, nice to see they let her keep the boots, but she seems like a total space cadet now."

"Yeah."

"Is that going to happen to you?"

"It already has." She might have been imagining it, but Erica was pretty sure she felt her brand writhe happily at that whole scene. Like it was proud of being noticed. She thought back to her first challenge. She was able to make a lazy gamer girl out of her target, and her brand had grown much stronger since then. Molly would be a lot cuter as a little nerd girl. She smiled at the naughty thought. Safe in the knowledge she’d never do it, but just a little turned on that she could.

Meanwhile Molly was entertaining similar fantasies. She hadn’t been fully truthful with Erica, this had all been her idea. She wanted to watch Erica and her…*gulp* daddy, on their date. That fantasy still alive within her.

Mary really did want to just meet NayNay and get high off her sweat. She was a simple thing. All her depth shaved down my her transformation.

They got to the second level, the place apparently doubled as a brothel, but during the day these parts were abandoned. They found the manager’s quarter, which was tucked away and out of sight. They walked right in, because she was an agent of God and these were glorified game show contestants.

The office was awesome. A full length wall of windows looked out into the club. Just seeing it made Erica want to stand there with her hands behind her back, surveying her domain. There was a sunk in living room at the window, then a walled lined with bookshelves and couches. At the end of the room was a desk, and Erica had seen from the ground floor that behind the wall there was a bedroom, the master suite.

There were three people in the room, now six.

The first caught all of their attention straight away, and easily could have maintained it for the rest of the visit. The three girls recognized DJ Slut Maus, they recognized everyone actually, but they RECOGNIZED DJ Slut Maus. The struggling DJ who got wrapped up in the game. He was a pretty strong male competitor and managed to avoid getting turned into a woman straight out of the gate. Of course that meant his feminization took place over the course of the season, and now he was a pretty fem fellow, with girly hips and waist, and a pair of nice fake tits. He got to keep his cock though, to the relief of many. All of which is burying the lead that in the seventh round when the theme of the rave was Rules of The Jungle, he got turned into a rat furry. Tail and everything.

He was sitting on the couch, biggest damn rat you’ll ever see, kicking it in maroon shorts, a Steve Aoki shirt, and a backwards cap, where stands from a pink fauxhawk spilled out messily. His big ol ears were line with piercing. He had grey fur, green eyes, and was currently maneuvering a load of lo mein into his muzzle via chopsticks. His fingers looks skinny and we’re tipped with claws.

Next to him on the same couch was Valentina Ruiz, who’s escaped the game with only the name GODDESS, all caps. She’d been the girl Erica rooted for. A mousy little Hispanic girl who got dragged to the rave by her more outgoing friend. The show had helped reveal her to be a raging sociopath. She won the whole the thing, and got her friend eliminated in the second to last round. Now she was GODDESS queen of the club, and her friend was trapped in a latex gimp suit for the rest of her life.

Erica hadn’t rooted for her after that.

She’d managed to avoid any **** changes other than a fat ass, which she was fitting into a shoooooooooort purple latex skirt. Her face was also made up in a very **** and particular way that made Erica think of her makeup guru cousin. Her eyebrows were thick was markers.

Then behind the desk was Master Peaks. He was an interesting sight. A handsome dude, and just starting to age. With a bit of grey in The scruff on his chin, and lines of it in his slicked back hair. He was twenty something during the show, and that had been twenty years ago. He seemed to be the only person who’s aged. He had that George Clooney thing going on. Not that he’d gotten more handsome with time, but that age was going to have a hell of a job throwing itself at him before he really started disintegrating.

The trio was laughing over some, not doubt hilarious joke, but stopped short once the three came wandering in.

DJ got up from his seat once he saw saw them, his feminine hips rolling their way. His pink tail swishing behind him. It was terrifying. Erica had always enjoyed furries, but she much preferred foxes, something with a big puffy tail. The rat was a little scary, and it produced a sense of weirdness that seemed foreign to her. She could tell this creature had not been a product of Skylar, like she was matter and DJ was anti-matter.

“Um hey… can you let our friend in?” Molly squeaked, fairly hypnotized by the man approaching them.

“Hey girls what are you doing up here?” DJ ignored their request. “Are you enjoying the club?” His voice was boyish, high and soft. “My boy over there runs everything, I’m sure he could give you a tour if you ask him.”

“Rrrrrrreally?” Erica found herself giggling.

“That’s so cool!” Molly gushed.

“Rad.” Was Marie’s laconic praise.

“DJ.” Peak snapped. “I’m eating.”

DJ sighed and started massaging Erica’s shoulders. “You don’t even want the goth?” He bent down to whisper to Erica. “He loves goths, he thinks you’re very cute.”

Erica flushed at that idea, her skin prickly with goose bumps. “Cool.”

Peaks looked unimpressed. “I’m hungry, give it a rest. Seduce them yourself if you’re so horny.”

The boy whined like a pet. “You’re such a prude, how am I supposed to be your wingman when you only fuck your harem? Besiiiides.” Erica felt his rat cock press against her butt, which made her shiver. “You know I prefer your sloppy seconds.” He whispered to Erica. “Your gothy hole all lubed up with my master’s cum. Soooo yummy, are your pierced down there baby? He loves piercings.”

“My clit is pierced!” Erica lied, desperately wanting Peak’s attention.

“Mmm.” The rat purred. “My boy-clit is pierced too. We’re going to be such good friends.” DJ peaked to see of his master was watching. “Aww he’s not going for it.” DJ sighed, noticing Peaks stick another dumpling in his mouth rather than take any interest in Erica or the other girls. “You know it’s not easy seducing sluts when your a rat man.” Dj slunk back over to the couch, and and pick his noodles back up, a hearty erection tenting his red shorts. He slurped from his contains like a wounded solider.

“That was emberassing.” GODDESS chuckled. “What do you three want, this is employees only.”

Erica felt her mind clearing, like Peaks disinterest gave her permission to breath again. “We’re contestants on Harem Hotel.”

All three froze, their eyes wide with fear. A mouthful of noodles hung from DJ’s mouth. A dumpling sat in Peaks hand halfway to his mouth.

“You what?” GODDESS sounded like she hadn’t drunk water in a hundred years.

“We’re on Skylar’s show.”

Peak set his food down and got up to look at the window. “Is she here now?” It sounded like. Velociraptor might be loose in the building. Which considering what she’d done to their lives might as well have been true.

“No, but we want to talk.”

Things at the lodge were running perfectly. Boudica was starting to get into the flow of being a cam girl, which was just wonderful. The audience was loving her updated wardrobe. Mark Anthony was eating Cleopatra out in their room. Helen was Skiing with Elizabeth, while Bloody Mary was punching out windows on the outside of the lodge and using the broken glass to make sex toys, more pleasurable than it sounds. She had a nice little pile of them going. Olympias was sulking, with only two days left to sleep with Stan she was cutting it close. Eve was masturbating in her room, and Skylar had that window maximized.

Meanwhile Erica was...

"Where's Erica?" Skylar had her feet in bunny slippers, and was enjoying a break, and a cup of coco. Her fuzzy bathrom was wrapped aroundy her grungy host clothing.

"Oh so you noticed..."

"Noticed... Noticed what?"

"It appears Erica and Joan kidnapped Stan, along with Marie and a NPC and used the shuttle to escape."

"You are so fired."

"That's the general consensus around around the crew yeah."

Skylar took a long sip from her coco confident it might be the last time she ever tasted anything sweet ever again. "You said they took a NPC?"

"Yeah Molly 19 Year Old, Sporty, On vacation with her dad. She seems to have a lot of encounters with Erica."

"Yeah, I know the one."

"This is weird."

"What?"

"Someone's added traits to her... She has a sexual desire to see Erica in a Daddy Dom relationship with The Master."

That was weird, but no weirder than the million other problems this season has had. "Well we'll worry about that if we live past this. Let's see what Molly's seeing.”

A first person feed popped up on her laptop, it was through Molly's eyes that she saw some of her old Handywork. A handsome looking man behind a desk, a gorgeous Latina with a calming aura, ugh, and that awful Rat transformation Karen had suggested. "So they decided to meet a master on their own..." This was good.

"Can you snap them back?"

"I can, but I won't have enough juice to do the show." Getting a person from a reality, into a pocket reality was a big ask, and usually had to be scheduled, like for competitions. Not just on a whim. "You're the one who let them go, how many do you think you could get back." Skylar asked.

"I could do one for sure, if we get Stan back, we can drop Erica."

"Drop the most popular girl, no problem. We'll shed ratings, but at least we'll survive. Fine we'll do it... if they don't come back. Let's let them have their date, and see if they come back on their own." Skylar leaned back in her chair and sighed. "I swear this season couldn't be going worse if someone had planned it."

Morgan had never asked to be born.

In fact if you'd asked her opinion on the subject she would have told you that she'd rather have skipped the event all together. But no one had asked her, so born she was. Then born again thanks to this competition. Then once her guile found the way out she found herself experiencing a kind of... unbirth.

She'd been floating in the void for some time. There were no directions in this place, one just seemed to float, with no momentum or purpose. It was warm, and thought it was silent through her magical senses Morgan could hear a clear 'duh-thump duh-thump' like a heartbeat for all this nothing. "Tis the womb." Morgan observed, curling into a ball.

It's there that she spent some ages, or perhaps minutes. Not so much living, and definelty not dead. Her mind faded, her heart sychonized with the heartbeat of eternity, and it was in that state she felt she could have lived many happy eons, senseless and still. Back in Igraine, back home.

That is until a door opened up in the nothingness, and a hand reaced out to grab her. It lifted her out of the stillness, like a sailor rescuing a man from the ocean, no not rescue. It was like a man pulling someone out from something in which they had no desire to leave... well...

Morgan had never asked to be born.

"Thought myself lost to enternity I did." Morgan said regally, as she was pulled into a studio. She stood before a woman dressed as a witch herself, but with considerably more spikes.

The woman smiled. It revealed an army of perfectly white teeth. "I suppose that would have been one way to get rid of you, but I shudder to think what harm you could do if you landed in someone else's show. Besides we hosts live and die by our contracts, and we never go back on our word."

"Devils one and all." Morgan nodded, and looked around the room. A few lackies worked at screen adjusting knobs, or dials to better attune to the scene playing out on their screen. There was a common room filled with women. It was halfway through the season so Mistress Eloise had already whitewashed the entire cast, who now had the pasty complextions of porcelian dolls, and a similar taste in fashion as well. Gothic all of it. There was a man, who had a woman wrapped around his legs, she was sobbing, and through some of the feeds around her, Morgan could hear the woman beggin. 'please she's your daughter!' This must have meant a nearby character in pigtails, and a dress pulled up to reveal a diaper, she was licking at a lolipop and body language indicated a strong and mutual attraction between her and the man. "I see thine own lost souls are being adequitley tortured."

"Much finer viewing than Skylar's mess, I'm sure you'll agree."

"I venture to say I didn't run my show half-well during my stint as host. Alas, my report. The master has been sealed away, and obviously an escape did I make." Morgan gave a slight bow.

"Oh you don't have to tell me." Mistress Eloise smiled again, and put her arm around Morgan. "You can catch it all on primetime. No Satan, the whole show revolts, and just barley manages to save itself by brining in some poor schlup Skylar summons up."

This surprised Morgan. "It's still going?"

"It's only been a few days since you left."

Now Morgan was worried. "I failed then, I was supposed to destroy the show."

Mistress Eloise didn't seemed too bothered. Though when she'd first talked to Morgan, and arranged to have her magic ready for the show, it'd been with the understanding that Morgan would lay Skylar's show low. "Don't worry, this is better. She's running the show with a fake master, her ratings are dropping, she's shedding viewers, and when the season is over she'll have lost The Producers' Poker Buddy. I'm watching her strangle to ****, I couldn't have hoped for a better outcome when I took this risk. Her show might get canceled just because of the ratings."

"Then our accord has been fufilled?"

Eloise nodded. "I'd say so. Let me just film this guy fuck his daughter, and then I'll pop you back to England, alive and well."

"Yes." Morgan could smell the fetted air of her homeland already. "It's been sometime since I've sowed ruin there."

They turned their curiosity to the common room where the scene was playing out, but as mother tried to defend daughter, a golden shimmer appeared in the scene.

"Lighting, kill that lamp, it's messing up the shot." Eloise called out.

"It's not us." Someone yelled back.

"Is that Just Camera one?"

"It's all the cameras,"

"See it they do." Morgan pointed at a character backing away from the shimmer.

Then, sword first Joan of Arc emereged from the shimmer, like a hiker emerging from a canyon. "Morgan Le Fey!" She shouted out, and waved her blazing sword to the now screaming contestants. "Show yourself before me now, or I shall be **** to do away with your entire coven of witches in zhe here and now." Joan seemed to be under the impression that the gothically attired contestants were witches in the service of Morgan.

Morgan looked at the golden woman curiously, then turned to Eloise. "I shant think I'll be getting much rest in Britania if that thing finds me here in Portland."

"This could be a problem." Eloise agreed, she turned to her crew. "Can we get someone on Living in Sin, do they know their saint is missing?" The host turned back to talk to Morgan but the witch had already gone through the T.V screen and into the show. She now stood before Joan of Arc, calm as anyone could be when facing their ****.

Morgan had never asked to be born.