Plans. Mostly Backup Plans.

Tina

“Well, let’s head over to the dungeon so Daphne can help Josie get ready for their date. A little wolf pup told me your date tonight is going to be sooooo hot, Francis!”

The strange sounding voice from yesterday reverberates as she says, making PA noises for emphasis, “Paging Ms. Campbell. Paging Ms. Campbell. Please report to the Green Room. You are wanted on another set.”

Boo! I wanted to get my magic on before having to deal with another fucking Vinny contract. Tina sighs. “Sorry, guys. Gotta go be tormented by my agent. I guess I’ll see all of you when I get back?”

As the rest of the harem figures out what they are going to do, Tina trudges, shoulders slumped, towards the hallway to find the Green Room. Well, since there is a green door smack dab in the middle of the hall, it isn’t that hard to find.

She opens the room and walks in. The room, like the name suggests, is very green. Green wallpaper. Green carpets. A Green vanity with green make-up. A green couch behind a green coffee table with a bowl of green M&M’s. The only thing not green in the room is a very large, silver furred rabbit.

“Gah!” Tina starts to summon forth some magic to kill the rabbit, only for her magic to fade away before she started.

The bunny speaks in the same distorted voice, “Save your magic, Ms. Campbell. I can turn myself green if you want.” The bunny turns a particularly hilarious shade of green. It hops over to the couch and takes a nibble out of the M&M bowl. Can rabbits even eat chocolate?

The bunny speaks, “No. Chocolate can actually cause rabbits to have heart attacks and, depending on the sugar and dairy concentrations, diarrhea. It’s deadly. Before you think it, you are still human enough that chocolate doesn’t affect you intensely enough to cause real damage, though you may want to limit your chocolate consumption to a few ounces a day. But, I’m not a rabbit. I’m just taking this form to have this conversation and to guide you though the backstage. Have a seat. I’ll answer every question I can before we begin.”

“So, who are you?”

“I’m your season’s new producer. You can call me Ms. E, if you feel the urge to use a name.”

“Okay, why kidnap us? Why stop the easy VP points for naked Francis? Why is Vinny such an asshat? How is it fair to make me sign contracts that I can’t read? What’s the backstage and why do I need a guide through it? Where am I even going to today?”

“Oooh, so many questions. I will address them in order, if you do not mind. I didn’t kidnap you; I have only been a producer for a couple of days. They kidnapped you based on a few factors: a loose future connection with Mr. O’Connor, similarities you have with him, and your personality serves as a fun foil in the harem relationship. I admit and somewhat apologize for requesting the end of those easy points, but the best outcome is for everyone to hit over 100 VP in the same week. If someone hits the 100 VP benchmark, the next scheduled challenge is the final one. You are far enough ahead that those easy points could be the difference between you hitting 100 this week, likely dooming your friends to non-person status, or hitting it next week, giving them a more than fair chance to catch up. And, so you know, I will be insisting for a more fair VP distribution for this week’s challenge. Vinny is naturally an, as you say, asshat because he is a low level devil, which means he is evil by definition and resentful that he isn’t more important. He is not treating you fair, even by typical devil standards; would you like me to intervene? I will certainly be willing to step in and serve as a lawyer of a sort, if you would entrust me to help you. The backstage is a labyrinthine mess of hallways that serve to connect the various set dimensions used by the Harem Hotel network. Most people need a guide because traversing the backstage requires an intense understanding of quantum mechanics that most mortals lack. The backstage makes Escher look like a toddler’s scribbles. Vinny has hired you to be a guest assistant for a different style show on the network. All you will need to do is banter and open some briefcases; I’ll be nearby making sure Jack doesn’t do any lasting harm. You’ll be back before your part of tonight’s date.”

“How do you know what Josie is planning? Why do you care how many of us get those 100 VP? How can I trust you? I mean, you are...”

The producer rabbit interrupts, “I know just about everything that happened or is happening on the show, Ms. Campbell. I hate this show and everything it stands for with the very core of my being; I agreed to produce it to give me a chance to save you all. But, those are just empty words to you at the moment. I will not hold your distrust against you. I would still not recommend blaspheming me in my presence. Even I have limits to my patience.”

Blaspheming her? How the fuck does one blaspheme a demon rabbit or whatever?

The rabbit suddenly bursting into silvery flame scares the shit out of Tina. She calms down only slightly as the fire is just (blinding) light and not... fiery. The rabbit cocks it’s head as if to silently say, “You wanna rethink your life there, cupcake?”

Tina’s ears droop. “Sorry.”

The rabbit hops into her lap, noting, “Better. All is forgiven. Any other curiosity I can satiate?” Her fur is so soft. Tina starts to pet the rabbit. The rabbit snuggles a little, then adds, “Well, there is a curiosity you are not quite conscious of just yet. I can settle that one, if you’d like.”

What is she going on about now?

“You are probably interesting in where the magic went in your dimension.”

Wait. What? “Um... I guess?”

“In your dimension’s case, it is actually quite fortunate magic disappeared. The gods formed your branch of dimensions as a prison block of sorts for some particularly nasty entities. They abandoned your dimension in particular, removing your ability to access the weave in the process, to keep it from tearing itself asunder. Something about some inherent instability in how the Weave interacted with your particular dimension prisoners. The cataclysm would not only cause the eradication of your people, but an interdimensional jail break of grave import. Hints of them remain in your literature.”

“Wait, you mean my home is a prison for inter-dimensional bad guys.”

“Yes. They sleep in the deepest reaches of your oceans. Let’s say that, if they ever awaken, Gygax would not be considered a prophet anymore, but Lovecraft would gain the title. At least he would for the brief period of time humans were still alive and sane.”

“Who? Ok. Whatever. I’m ready to go to work. Gave me a lot to think about. Thanks, I guess?”

Indigo

Since I had nothing else to do after that interrogation, I just painted while working on the next phase of my super smexy plan. Added some triggers to Dinah to get a regular supply of her hypnotic milk. Even made her pay for the breast pump. Hee hee. Still, I need a list of targets to drain XP from. Who better to get that info from that the dumb wingbat that’s bound to be worth a bunch of XP anyways?

So, Indigo stands in front of Beckie’s open door. Beckie is snoring in an overstuffed chair while some old timey claymation cartoon plays. The dog is talking about how it’s wrong to steal magical powers from your friends or some tonteria. She walks in and pokes Beckie in the host’s side.

Beckie snorts as she wakens, “What? Huh? Who are you? Where am I?”

“I am the Mistress of this season of Harem Hotel. You are in your office. I wanted to talk.”

“Oh, cyber slut! I ‘member you! What a jokester! You were sooooo fat. What do you want?”

Fuck you, hija de puta. “I already told you, I want to talk. I brought you a milkshake. It’s butterscotch flavor.”

“Ooooh! Gimme!”

Indigo hands off the milkshake. Beckie unfortunately doesn’t immediately starts drinking it. Guess I actually need to talk. “So, can we talk about reducing, or better yet, removing the VP punishment for insulting the Master. -2 VP per incident really hurts my right of self-expression.”

“It’s cute how you still think you have a right to express yourself. You forget that you are property of the Master. And insulting your owner is a very bad thing. Think of the penalty as a learning opportunity. You haven’t been dinged since it bumped up to -2 VP per insult, haven’t you?”

Just drink the fuckin’ milkshake already, you fucking ding bat!

“That’s because I don’t want to be eliminated. Just because I can’t express my perfectly valid opinion of the Master, doesn’t mean I don’t still hold it. Surely, there is something I can do to convince you to give me what I want.”

“You have nothing I would want, cyber slut.”

“You sure about that? Check your transformation text, veijita. You need approval from every participant in order to ultimately save your brain, remember. You don’t give me what I want, I can just rate you poorly out of spite.”

“Then I’m just encouraged to ensure you’re eliminated. Less participants mean less people I need to make happy.”

Wow. Brutal. But she has made a good point.

“Then how about the sex? I can save your brain for a day. Might not get many opportunities of people offering smexy times with you.”

“Wow. You are willing to sacrifice your virgin bonus for something as inconsequential as a penalty that you can easily avoid by learning how to worship your Master? Really? Are you a half-wit?”

“You’re milkshake is getting warm.”

Beckie snorts, “Dummy, you remind people that their food is getting cold, not warm.” She then drinks the milkshake. Indigo smiles as Dinah’s breastmilk starts to take hold, the host’s eyes glaze over and her hand reaches into her seersucker pants. The foxy cubana leans in to whisper in Beckie’s ear, “Alright, Beckie, here is what you are going to do. You are going to get me a list of the staff that know magic and their levels. Then, you are going to vigorously masturbate to thoughts of pleasuring me until you cum. You will let me taste your juices. Then you are going to forget all about this conversation. I was never here and you didn’t make me a list. You will explicitly remember masturbating to me, but you will think it was all your idea. You’ll then pledge to do it at least once a day until your brain is too mushy to remember anything. Understand?”

Beckie shakes her head yes and unconsciously turns to her workstation. She henpecks her way to a staff directory and hits print. An old Dot Matrix printer spits out the list. Indigo doesn’t even wait for Beckie to hand it to her; she tears off the list and starts to figure out the whole level thing. Beckie then gets to work on stroking her kitty. It’s frankly kind of gross. Beckie moans about how good the cyber slut tastes, almost as good as Andy Griffith. Her crotch stains black when she cums. Eww, her juices are black. And smells of licorice. Indigo licks at the dripping black goo. Tastes like licorice, too. Gross. But she feels empowered.

Indigo: +7 XP (Feeding on a Level 15 spellcasting monster)

Indigo: +1 max SP (Feeding on female spellcaster of higher level)

Beckie: -1 Level

As Indigo leaves Beckie’s office, the rest of the milkshake in her hands, she plans on finishing it when she gets back to the safety of her studio. She needs to get the old lady taste out of her mouth.

Skye

Francis escorts Skye into her forge. She grabs her gear from lockup and prepares to finish the work. Tying up her apron, she turns to face her future lady love. “I’m sorry we couldn’t delve today. Too risky without a third. It shouldn’t be like Level 1, where the minions are dumb enough to just let us kill them.”

“I’m okay with it, Skye. Still wanted to check in on you. You wanted to talk about multi-classing?”

“Yes. As the DM, we require permission from you to do so. The Lady wants me to have access to magic.”

“I don’t have a problem with multi-classing, so whatever you want to do. Even looks like we don’t have to worry about stats as much. But, we could have skipped all of that if you just told me you needed magic yesterday. There is a caster subclass for rogues.”

“I wish to meet the audience’s expectations of me as much as possible. I still wish to multi-class into a caster for The Lady. I just don’t know which one to pick. No offense, but I don’t like the idea of casting spells until I orgasm, so arcane casting feels problematic. Given how... stimulating thinking about The Lady is, I probably shouldn’t get my magic from her so... directly. Which bad option should I go for?”

“Honestly, the third option. Ranger.”

“Ranger? Really? Aren’t they just bad?”

“I’ll be the first to tell you that every class breaks the game sooner or late. Sure, some classes break the game in obvious, splashy ways and can do so way earlier than other classes. There are some bard subclasses that can break the game at 3rd level. Rangers get a bad wrap partly because they primarily break the game in ways that DMs just hand-wave away. But, we are in reality, not in a game. There is no hand-waving away the need to safely navigate a hostile wilderness if one must cross it. If Daphne told me true, we need to prepare for any eventuality. Think about this: if we end up in a world where the Spider has enslaved thousands underground, would you not want to be able to guide some of them to the freedom of the surface? Of more immediate concern, in Daphne’s system Rangers use druidic magic. Stuff directly from the energies of the Feywild. So, a more primal version of The Lady’s magic. And, there are options that will mesh quite well with your Duelist sub-class.”

“I will trust your judgment, Francis. But, I will not sully the Lady by using a bow. Remember that.”

Skye then returns to finalizing her blade. She’ll need it soon enough.

Scarlet

Scarlet, Dinah, and Francis are up in the Master’s Suite, having lunch. Scarlet is dreading the conversation she’ll need to have soon. Thinking about it is already getting her wet. Francis feels especially withdrawn today. Almost as if it’s a constant struggle just to be present.

Trying to distract him with something, she asks a question she is only mildly interested in getting the answer, “So, ever figure out why other Dinah’s Frankie was so fat?”

Francis shakes himself alert. “I could ask her, you know. Her Dinah’s in labor right now. She’s got nothing to do but wait and could maybe use the distraction.”

“How do you know that?”

He pulls out his phone. “I spent about an hour on the Harem Hotel Hereafter Francis forum after my reverie this morning. You know, saying ‘Hi’. Frankie likes to run a bunch of forum games. She mentioned that she wanted more annoying name suggestions to share once Dinah finishes giving birth to kid number 21. And she is weird enough to put her interdimensional phone number in her forum signature. Want me to put her on speakerphone?”

Dinah nods. She looks excited. Scarlet nods as well. Francis calls, turning on speakerphone.

“Frankie Hornblower, noted sex icon, speaking.” The phone connection is surprisingly good.

“Hey, Frankie, newbie Francis here. Have my Dinah and one of my others here, too. Should we wish you congratulations yet?”

“Ooooh, newbie! Hey! Did you like that meme I made of you? And hey newbie’s Dinah! How many babies has your Master put in you? Is the other girl the one that did the naked us? Feel bad for her. Seems like just about everyone couldn’t appreciate old us au natural.”

Scarlet speaks up, “That was Skye. Hi. I’m Scarlet. I did the professor look. Dressed up like a slutty schoolgirl.”

“Oh, yeah. I remember. Would have voted you higher, but my Dinah could not abide me giving her counterpart third.”

Dinah speaks up, “Do you really vote Skye over me?”

“Yes, Mistress... I mean... Dinah. You really do sound like her. I mean, I get it. You are her from another dimension. As lovely as it is to chat, newbie, I assume you got a real reason to call. Maybe something about that punishment you got?”

Francis turns pale. He really is not taking it well right now. Scarlet asks instead, “Hey, so we were watching some of your season and I was wondering how did you get so fat?”

“Wow. And I thought Josie was the tactless one. Didn’t your Mama teach you not to tease a woman about her weight?”

“Sorry. I’d show more tact, but my Francis is struggling to maintain himself at the moment.”

“Well, nosy, if you must know, bad food was cheap and I was working 60-80 hours a week to merely survive. It’s weird to me how fit your Francis actually was during the challenge. Not like he got a physical tune-up transformation.”

“Had to maintain a certain level of health as part of my militia service. I was getting a bit chunky after honorably aging out.”

Then a brief mutual confusion breaks out between the Francises. Each are frankly befuddled about the militia service of the other. Scarlet cuts in to get them back on tract, “We have been told our dimension is weird. Just about every male of age does some sort of military service.”

“Oh, like Starship Troopers?”

“Sure, I guess.”

“Alright. Mystery solved. If you don’t want to talk about that, there is something else you should know. What? Wait a sec, I’m on the phone. What do you mean Mistress wants me to give her a foot rub right now? Oh, okay. I’ll PM you on the forum when new mommy duties allow. Ciao!”

And... she hung up. Maybe one of the other Francises would be more useful? Something else to consider. No point putting this off any longer.

“Francis, you’ve been distracted since you got back up here. Tell us what’s going on.”

“The voice in my head is quite incessant. Sorry.”

“With your permission, I think it’s about time for our first therapy session. And, with Dinah’s assistance, I think I’ve thought of a way to minimize my distractions.”

“Wait,” Dinah interjects, “What are you planning?”

Scarlet hands her a script. Dinah reads through it, startled at it’s contents. “Wait, you want me to brainwash you?”

Francis starts to object, but Scarlet interrupts first, “If you will follow the script, yes. We are not going to get very far if I have to take a break every 5 minutes to relieve the pressure in my puss. It’ll be better for both of us if I’m not so distracted. And the wording is such that it’ll be temporary.” He looks worried, but raises his hands to relent his objection.

“Well, if you trust me.” Dinah unbuttons her blouse and pops out a breast, already with a drip or two of milk. Scarlet wraps her arms around the de-aged doctor and unclasps her bra. Scarlet whispers in the lactating lady’s ear, “In for a penny, in for a pound. Putting on a show will get us some VP.”

Dinah: +2 VP (Showing off her Slut Tits to Master)

Scarlet then moves to sit on Dinah’s lap. She wraps her lips around Dinah’s milky nipple and starts to suck. Fuuuck. That tastes so...