Skye Date Night 1, Part 1: The Water Is Acid

Skye

Skye checks the contents of her family picnic basket one more time. Bottle of wine from the farm? Check. It’s even the vintage year that we got silver in the Washington State Winery Contest. My religious exemption card to the federal drinking age limit, just in case the Master cares about that? Check. Mom’s patent pending Chocolate, Chocolate, Way Too Much Chocolate Cake? Check. Romantic sheet music? Check. I made sure I pre-screened out the songs I didn’t recognize and added some playing notes. Candles for the table? Check. Had to spend a half hour removing the copulation organs that were carved in them, but it’ll be worth it. Bouquet of flowers? Check. Picked them myself from just off the seashore. That letter Josie wanted me to deliver that I insisted she hand write instead of just texting it to me? Check. Those books I got from the library? Check. Ok, Skye, just have to get over the initial awkwardness and then we fall in love.

She scoots herself into the entryway, closes her eyes tightly, and hides behind a wall. While she has felt the discomfort of her new friends wearing clothes and has gotten somewhat used to it, the intensity of the Master clothed was already making the nervous naturist nauseous. I should tell the Master about my transformation before I pass out.

“Ma – Master, are you decent?” Skye squeaks, “You don’t feel like you are decent.”

A pause. A voice, too deep, responds, “I think I am. Is this a transformation thing?”

Maybe the Master has a deep voice. Mrs. Jackson could be confused for some of our supervised males. No need to panic.

“They made me uncomfortable around clothes. The mean lady said that the feelings will be intense enough to make me pass out if I am around you when you are indecent.”

Another pause. The deep voice answers, “I think I understand. Sorry; this must be awful for you. I’ll go make myself decent. You can stop hiding.” Indecently noisy feet walk away.

Skye starts setting the table, lighting candles, arranging everything just so.

And then he walks back in. Everything falls apart. Skye falls to her knees and starts to cry.

Skye: +10 VP (Displayed Naked Slut Body to Master x2 Bonus [first time master participant])

Skye: +6 VP (Seen Master’s Glorious Cock x2 Bonus [first time contestant participant])

Beckie Petersen

Stupid Producers, telling me I need to be more active in my own season? Beckie Petersen fumes as she walks through the backstage on the way to tonight’s optional challenge, I’m testing a grand theory. Excessive host interactions could taint the results. And, anyways, I already put in place systems to monitor what’s going on; I don’t have to actually pay attention. Why have all of the data analysis tools my old department developed if they are just going to be second-guessed by cosmic horrors? Rabble, rabble.

She arrives at the designated Room 17B, using a little host magic to loom majestically over the attending sluts. Good, everyone is here.

“Hello, contestants, and welcome to the first pop-up challenge! Now, these challenges are optional, but can offer great rewards. The more of you participate, the better the prizes! Let’s describe the rules of the game. You see before you a jumbled mess of playground equipment, warped and misshaped to dizzily heights! That is our playing field. I assume all of you are familiar with the old children’s game ‘The Floor is Lava’, where the children hop from object to object in order to avoid touching the floor. Well, we are playing that, with a Harem Hotel twisty-turny twist! When we begin, the room will slowly fill with water. Special magic water. When the water touches your clothing, that section of clothing will dissolve; when it touches your bare skin, you will become aroused. The more bare skin is touched, the greater the arousal. Last one to orgasm wins the grand prize. The first one to orgasm will get to spend the night with the hotel staff, who will, of course, cause no permanent damage to you, but may play with you as they wish...”

Dinah interrupts, “I’m out.”

“Whatever, breeding slut, I shall now continue. They will drop the loser off at tomorrow’s meeting, where they shall also receive a bonus transformation. What fun! I assume the three of you are playing, so...”

Tina interrupts, “Hey, I wanna play too.”

“But you are already naked. Seems like you spent all of your allocated clothing on magic.”

“I have my top hat. I never wear my top hat outside of performances. Let me go get it.”

“No need”, Beckie declares, “Here you go. Boop!”

The tiny gold top hat is pinned to Tina’s hair. It’s not quite where she normally puts it, but, then again, there is an ear in the way now.

“So, breeding slut is out. Are the rest of you in?”

A chorus of agreement.

“Cool. So, first place 40 BP, second place 20 BP, third place 10 BP, last place hotel staff entertainment duty and a transformation. We ready? Let’s begin.”

Francis

Francis did not know what to expect, but he wasn’t expecting this. A wisp of a girl, wiry-muscled from a life time of farm work, barely 18, crying at the sight of him. Gotta think fast. Gotta defuse this. Social competency, my greatest weakness.

Quickly examining the scene, he makes some notes. The girl doesn’t look uncomfortable being naked nor looks uncomfortable with me being naked. Maybe it’s just that she didn’t pick up on the whole ‘the Master is a dude’ thing? I mean, I get that the premise of the show is awful, but why would that be worth breaking out into tears? I know I’m disappointing... No, no time for that. On her basket, an emblem. Silver sword with a silver circle surrounded by wavy lines. Where do I recognize it? Is that a book on the Changedance? Weird subject, especially if she wasn’t expecting me to be a guy. Ok, she’s probably a Gygaxian. Probably devoted primarily to Eilistraee. Given that’s an older symbol, probably a Thirdist. Probably shouldn’t mention playing the game her religion is based on until I know if she’s cool with it; hard to tell with a Thirdist. And whatever particular version of worship she practices probably finds the idea of a male as a romantic partner so abhorrent that she’s having a conniption. A theory to work with. Don’t want her to end up eliminated before they can ‘fix’ me.

Line of attack made, Francis starts with an opening gambit, “You know, from my understanding, Eilistraee wants everyone to dance with love in their hearts under the light of her silvery radiance. She rejects her mother’s misandry.”

The girl perks up at the mentioned name, but eyes hims warily, “If you worship The Lady of the Dance, you would be supervised. You wouldn’t look so unkempt. And you wouldn’t invoke her name so lightly.”

Francis parries, “I admit that I only know of the Moonlit Dancer in the academic sense. But, if these last few days have taught me anything, it’s that my world view has been too narrow. Perhaps attracting her attention would do both of us good. She would definitely hate this game; she could be our way out of it. Until then, we need to work together; we need to keep our minds open.”

“But, this was supposed to be my chance to meet my one true love. To be bound to a...”

“Are you familiar with the Changedance?”, Francis interrupts, pointing to the book.

“No.”

“Makes sense. That ritual was not meant for you. If Scarlet told me true, and I’d like to think she did, part of this game’s gimmick is that I am to be molded into what you girls desire. In other words, I am being **** to undergo something like the Changedance. I still don’t know exactly how to feel about it. Maybe you could help guide me through it over dinner. Whatever you had ordered up smells delicious. What do you think?”

She finally gets off the floor, resolving, “I don’t know what to think right now either. For an unbelieving unsupervised male, you seem... not evil. And I did promise my new friends to work together and that you were part of Team Family. Alright, I’ll hear you out. But if you blaspheme...”

She walks to the kitchen. Francis moves the place-setting in front of the throne to another chair and sits down to wait. He needs to catch his breath, calm his mind. This may be a looooong night.

Indigo

Suddenly, the 4 competitors find themselves positioned on a swing. The playground equipment shifts and sways. A thin layer of water forms on the floor.

Alright, Indigo thinks, this looks exactly like those dumb bad physics collab games we’d play on Streem. Something like Gang Guys. I’m so gonna rock this!

For the first few minutes, Indigo is justified in her confidence. The water slowly rises. The jumps to higher ground are pretty easy. As far as she can tell, everyone had the soles of their shoes eaten away. No big deal.

Then, suddenly, a foot of water lurches up. She barely scrambles up a swing set pole and is hanging upside down. She hears a pretty big splash, but is too busy hanging on for dear life to figure out who fell where. I should really cut back on the gas station pizza.

Then the room flips 90 degrees. Indigo finds herself desperately trying to pull herself up, only to have her arms give way. She falls several feet into the cold water with a splash. She finds herself completely submerged, clothes dissolving, urges in her loins rising. She tries to walk through the water, but she’s a smidgen too short to keep her head above water and walk. She doggy-paddles, or at least tries to doggy-paddle. Looking everywhere as the heat rises inside her, she barely pulls herself out of the water before it rises again, blasting her in the face with cold as it pushes her away from the brief place of rest. Her arms are tired. She swims to the shore of a half-submerged merry-go-round. She finally gets herself completely out of the water, resting on the merry-go-round bars when the room flips again, this time a full 180 degrees. She belly flops into the water from 4 feet up. The pain is excruciating. As the last of her clothes dissolve away and her strength finally fails, she feels herself sinking into the water. Even if she had the strength to swim, the surface feels so far away. She doesn’t know if she is stripped completely bare or orgasms first; she is beat. This is where I die.

Her lungs are burning and she instinctively takes a deep breath. Only, the pain of suffocation is no more. She feels renewed, powerful. She looks down to see a... tail?

Another woman, one she doesn’t recognize, gives her a big toothy grin. A shark-toothy grin. “I know you,” Indigo somehow hears, “You’re the slob with the toys. Well, you’re our toy for the night.”

Indigo finds herself bound in those ropes again; she thrashes in the water to no avail. The other woman tows her into the tubes in the floor below.

“Am I at least going to get the sex?” she tries to shriek. Air bubbles escape. But no help comes. In the depths, no one can hear you scream.