Dinah Date Night 1, Part 2: Tabophobia

Dinah

Dinah sighs, hopefully out of earshot, as she places the dessert remnants in the sink. Moment of truth. Do I just try to seduce him or just be honest? Risky either way. No words or all of them? She doesn’t know what to do when she gets to the couch.

“So, care to tell me how we would have a third child as two women?”

Shit. I guess he made the decision for me. Dinah curses her indecision, the responds, “My transformation... is both a blessing and a curse. That is, a blessing when we get out of here, a curse until then. I know you wanted the exact wording of it, but the devil is in the details, not the summary. I brought the ‘pamphlet’ they gave me to explain what they did to me. But, I’d rather bear the ethical burden of this one. So, to ask it simply, will you have sex with me, right now, no questions asked?”

He looks stunned. Then, once the shock abated, he looks guilty and concerned in equal measure, “I would love to have sex with you, once whatever this is is to the point where we both know that we love each other. And, to be frank, I don’t think we get to that point until you can ask that question without looking like you are doing it out of obligation. So, against every carnal fiber of my being, I going to have to ask to read that ‘pamphlet’ first.”

She reluctantly pulls the ‘pamphlet’ out of the tote bag of supplies she brought for the night. He gets visibly angry at the title. Perhaps more angry than she was when it was foisted upon her.

“This looks like a fucking sample chapter for a textbook.”

I never reviewed textbooks before, but I read enough of them to understand the comparison.

He cracks open the ‘pamphlet’, reads maybe long enough to finish the first sentence, then closes it. He looks definitely more angry than she felt during the opening ceremony. Through gritted teeth, he asks, “Why do you want me to have sex with you tonight?”

“If you just get me preg...”

He doesn’t even give her the chance to finish that sentence, “Absolutely fucking not.”

Dinah: - 5 VP (Made Master Very Angry)

“But...”

“You just spent dinner making me think about the joys of being a father? Mother? Parent. After that dinner, you want me to risk our child to the whims of this fucking game? Have you even seen an elimination?”

Now that is a thought that Dinah did not consider. Then again, the thought of being fully eliminated felt impossibly distant until basically this very moment. Scoring in the positives, yet not to triple digits, sure. But never eliminated outright.

He closes his eyes and starts to breathe deeply. In. Hold it. Out. Repeat. After what feels like an eternity of waiting, he finally sighs, “Sorry. Not your fault. I’m not angry with you, just the situation. Seriously, I’ve have more than a few nightmares about eliminations since I watched my first one.” He points to the TV, then continues, “I want this to work, I really do. I want all of you to make it out of here alive and sane and whole. But, the possibility that I fail one of you is ever present in the back of my mind. I still haven’t met our I guess existent interdimensional kidnapper. I have no idea if it is kind enough to have a relatively gentle touch. But I have yet to see an elimination transformation make didn’t make me want to...” Apparently exhausted, he stops himself.

Dinah starts to go for a side hug, only to get hit with searing pain. She backs off. He sees, then scoots away himself. He looks down, defeated, “Sorry. Must be that Personal Space transformation thing? Be honest with me. Tell me whether my concern is valid. Tell me whether caring for our child enough to wait to conceive her until I know both of you will be safe is the right thing to do.”

“While I am so glad you are taking serious responsibility for your potential actions, I can’t tell you that. There are always risks to pregnancies. I will never be 1000% safe carrying our child. The question is whether the amount and severity of the risk outweighs the benefits. I am not going to make you read the whole thing now, but, basically, any sexual contact another person does to me down there comes with a chance of pregnancy, unless I am already pregnant. I can’t earn VP from the others unless I do that action with you first. I imagine the big money items are going to involve my vagina. So, either I earn some points by you getting me pregnant and then can freely get points like the others, or I continue to metaphorically lock myself down and play with both hands tied behind my back. I know the risk of a bad end for me, whether elimination or end-of-game enslavement, goes up dramatically the longer we wait. So, please show me that the risk to our child could be worse than the risk I face without her inside me.”

He looks determined, yet on the verge of tears. “You sure?”

She nods.

“Well, you won’t look at coffee tables the same way again, that’ll be for sure.”

Indigo

“Konnichi-rawr, Firestarters. It’s the ultimate sexpot of the Monstergirl Menagerie here, Inferno Vixen!”

Indigo is once again impressed by the streaming set-up she bought. 2 massive computers, one for gaming, one for running OBS and checking on the chat window, super comfy gamer chair, smexy lighting, and a cute set of headphones with fox ears. While neither computer has her VStreemer software, she’s got the whole picture-in-picture camera thing now going on. Her body is certainly smexy enough now to show off and it’s not like her new key demo hasn’t already seen all of it.

A secondary set-up is placed nearby for Irene to stream from. A single computer with a lower desk so she can lay down relatively comfy while she would play the game. When she’s not on stream, it could be used to serve as chat moderation, but Indigo never needed a mod before.

She’s got her game tested and keyed up to go. Now, just gotta stream until I draw in enough of an audience.

“We’re streaming Futaba vs. the Monsters until I get 1000 subscribers on this platform or until I have to go to the morning meeting tomorrow, whichever happens first! And, for every milestone on my little tracker meter, I’ll be taking a super smexy break that you’ll get to watch; one of them even involves a special guest. So, like, share, and subscribe. Join the Firestarter Pack today!”

The Broadcast

A chyron appears at the bottom of the screen, constantly scrolling: “Compilation 15 (Binky’s Faves) of the ‘Harem Hotel: Best Eliminations’ collection is available for purchase either as an individual compilation or part of the complete collection purchase. Extra commentary provided by the Master and one of his sluts.”

A title card appears on screen, reading: “Jenny Elimination from ‘Harem Hotel: Binky’s Big-time Barista Bonanza’ episode 3.”

A middle-aged portly man sits on a throne in the center of a circus ring. A demented clown dressed like a circus ringmaster, all spindly and unnaturally tall, looms over the throne, grinning with misshapen teeth. 8 contestants stand at attention, each on top of a platform similar to what one would see a lion stand on during a lion-taming act.

The clown opens it’s gaping maw and several voices come out, all chanting the same words to the tune of “Entry of the Gladiators” (with accompanying background music): “Welcome all back to Harem Hotel. We are Binky and we are hosting. Now it is time to calculate scores. Oh what fun do we have in store!”

Dinah speaks over the broadcast, “Ok, this is creepy. Can we skip to this elimination?”

The screen pauses. Francis says, “You know, Scarlet bought me basically a VR headset. Before we continue, would you like to continue watching this like this or use the headset to experience this as if you are one of the other contestants? I wouldn’t dare to suggest seeing things through poor Jenny’s eyes, but might make my point better if you feel like you are actually there.”

The visual fast-forwards while Dinah responds, “And be closer to that nightmare clown? No thanks.”

Francis notes, “Technically, Binky is a legion of demons possessing a relatively nice clown, but that’s beside the point.”

The visual resumes normal play as a very plain looking girl wearing very stylish clothes stands before the duo of fat man and evil possessed clown. The clown again begins to chant: “Well there Jenny you’ve been found quite boring. When you are on-screen the audience starts a’snoring. You’ve failed to measure up. Your time is almost up. Any last words before the spell befalls you?”

“C’mon, Bob,” the plain girl pouts, “It’s not my fault that transformation connected by looks to how ‘intellectually fulfilling’ conversations with me are! If you were actually interested in intellectually fulfilling stuff, like fashion, cute boy bands, and make-up, I’d have kept my boobs! Give me another chance!”

“Sorry, Jenny,” the portly man on the throne answers, “but the audience thought you were a vapid airhead that was only good as eye candy. I agree with them. And, without the eye candy, I have no further use for you. You don’t bring in customers anymore and you certainly never learned to use the espresso machine properly. The girls in my future coffee shop corporation harem needs to be able to pull their weight. You are eliminated. I wish you well on your future endeavor.”

The clown chants again, the tune shifting into a more distorted minor key as it goes: “Jenny you are still as flat as a board. Your personality is such a bore. Let’s work with those notes; as such a great host, we transform you into a coffee table!”

Jenny gives out an ear-piercing scream as her body suddenly lurches, her arms reaching first behind her head, then suddenly snapping backwards. Her head snaps to maximum hyperextension. Her legs spread wide. Her limbs grow and shift until they are exactly of equal length, leveling off her torso. Her stylish clothes start to melt away as her skin starts to harden, turning into a deep mahogany wood. By the time Bob descends from his throne, Jenny is completely still, her face frozen in ecstasy equivalent to the terror she experienced in her last moments as a human. The fat man runs his finger along the nude wood form of the former woman as the evil clown chants once more: “As per usual transformation details rarely fit the cadence we must speak in. So here is the card. Just read off the card so the audience can know about what just happened!”

Bob reads off the card, “Jenny has been given the Basic Bitch Coffee Table elimination transformation. Here are the details. Basic Bitch Coffee Table – Jenny has always been a boring basic bitch, now she’s the most bitchin’ piece of furniture ever devised! With easy access to both her former upper and lower cock warming holes, still readily available, up to two people at a time can use Jenny to sate their sexual desires. And those holes are always warm and wet and stimulating. Cumming inside Jenny will cause her to excrete a cleaning and waxing solution to keep her shiny and protected. She is also perfectly balanced and able to hold the largest coffee table books with ease! A perfect prototype for future furniture considerations for your chain of coffee shops, Bob!”

The screen pauses. Dinah exclaims, “And I thought the clown was the worst part of this.”

“Oh, we haven’t hit the worst part of this. That’s coming up.”

“There’s more to this nightmare fuel?”

The visual resumes normal play as a new title card appears: “Jenny’s Fate from ‘Harem Hotel: Binky’s Big-time Barista Bonanza’ reunion special.”

Now the screen displays a large mansion. It has a hedge maze in the back shaped exactly like the logo for Bobcafe, the largest coffee shop mega-corporation in the world. “Pause it!” Dinah yells.

“Yes.”

“I have a 3 latte from Bobcafe a day habit. You are telling me that I have been giving a frankly stupid amount of money to that asshat!”

“I’m not telling you anything. I was a barista at a small-time local coffee shop for a while, so I never gave Bobcafe any of my business and would’ve advised you to do the same even before knowing that Bob was a particularly cruel Master on a season of Harem Hotel. But at least now I know post-game magical fuckery explains how his burnt-flavored coffee sells at all.”

“Ok. No more Bobcafe for me. You can continue.”

“Actually, while we are paused, I need to change a setting on here. Did you know Harem Hotel not only does closed captioning for the hearing impaired, but also closed captioning for the psychically impaired? Let’s turn that on real quick.”

The camera zooms through the hedge maze to find Bob, still as portly and middle-aged as he was on the show, standing in the middle, arms akimbo like he thinks he’s a superhero. He speaks, “Hi! I’m Bob from Bobcafe! The last 6 months has been great for me and my coffee shop corporation harem! We have busted every sales quota we have set and obtained a whopping 57% of North American brewed on-site coffee drink like product market share. We have 10000’s of locations serving 1000’s of cities all across America, Canada, and Mexico. We are even soon expanding into Brazil! But, you’re not here to hear about all of my success. You are here to check up on your favorite of my coffee shop executive sluts! Let’s go check on them all, right now!”

Bob’s thoughts are displayed like one would expect closed captioning to work. Through most of that introductory speech, Bob thinks about how disappointed he is that he only got laid 3 times today before filming. He grumbles those thoughts in his head as he starts navigating the hedge maze, but the scene rapidly wipes to him standing in a living room. Bob starts another little speech, “And here is where I put that one boring girl. Can’t seem to remember her name anymore, but it doesn’t matter. During the more boring parts of the season after she was infinitely improved by being transformed into a coffee table, I certainly enjoyed her best features, but, since coming back to the real world, I rarely can find the time to fill her up with my rich heavy cream, if you know what I mean. Now, it takes more than 6 executives to run a multi-national coffee juggernaut, so she still gets used regularly by some of my less enslaved executives. And, when I’m not hosting a party, I let some of the male house-staff have their way with her. Isn’t that right?”

He looks at the coffee table, mock acting like it’s going to respond. The funny (or terrifying, if one still retains a bit of basic decency) thing is, Jenny has been responding the whole time, begging and wailing for someone, anyone, to set her free, either by reversing the spell or ending her existence. The words of her pleas continue scrolling on the screen while Bob fake humps Jenny’s wooden vagina. The screen pauses again.

“And that is the worst of it.”

Daphne

Daphne is desperately digging through her books for a solution to her current problem, but that problem is making things difficult. Why can’t the emotion calming spells be arcane? Ok, magic isn’t going to solve this. I am **** to use... words. Daphne shudders at the thought.

She gingerly approaches her problem: a very angry, very tied up redhead that did a very stupid thing.

“I’ll kill you!” the problem shouts, venting her impotent rage.

“Please calm down. Please?”

“You had a giant turkey **** me, tied me up to a sex device, abused my friend, and left us there for hours! Why the fuck should I calm down!?”

“Your life depends on it. I am trying to help you. So, please calm down.”

“How the fuck is tying me up again helping!?”

“Do you even understand what you did up there? You broke a very, very big rule. Luckily, you broke it when all the live cameras are going to be on Francis and Dinah, so, even if that bitch Beckie was watching the show, you’ll probably get away with it. Please calm down so I can help you.”

The redhead’s cheeks blush as she mutters, “Telling someone to calm down repeatedly doesn’t work.”

“I’m usually the one that needs calming. Biting my tail fin usually works. Would biting you help?”

The redhead turns ashen, “I’ll be calm.” After pausing a moment, she demands, “Explain what I did wrong. Slowly.”

“You broke probably the key rule on just about every iteration of this show, namely, no **** against staff or other contestants. It doesn’t matter how pitiful the attempt at murdering me was, the act itself is grounds for immediate elimination. I brought you here, to an air pocket in my room, because it is probably the only safe place for you to be until you calm down. Big sis Ariel won’t be able to ignore breaking that rule; if she or any of my other sisters find out...”

Somehow, the redhead turns even more pale. The two of them sit, silent, for a while. Finally, the redhead speaks, “And what are you going to do?”

“Cover your mistake up as best I can.”

“Why risk it for me? I literally just tried to chop your head off.”

“Because I don’t want to make Francis cry.”