Intermission: Fan Mail (IV), Part 3

Room 69. Liesa had rolled back onto the bed with an ease that should have looked lazy, but her transformation meant her body still arranged itself like every movement was a pose for a photo shoot. One leg draped over the other, both bare, her calf flexing so the light caught the gentle curve of muscle. It was like watching a beach bunny try to pose as the Mona Lisa and getting distracted halfway through by the memory of a better party. Sam loved her for it.

Sam, for her part, sat cross-legged on the bed, a small fortress of mail and snack wrappers assembled around her. She still wore the same tank and soft shorts she’d sported at lunch, but since she’d started seeing Liesa regularly, her wardrobe had shifted—less denim, more comfort, nothing too tight unless she wanted it to be. Even her hair, usually wild, was combed today into a soft fluff that Liesa liked to bury her face in when she thought Sam wasn’t looking. But Sam always was.

“Your turn first, schat,” Liesa said, stretching out so her feet rested on the small of Sam’s back. “You look like a kid at Christmas.”

Sam plucked the top envelope and showed it to Liesa, who squinted at the address, then snorted. “‘To Harem Queen Sam.’ Not even a joke, they mean it.”

Sam grinned, tearing it open with her thumb. “Can’t say I hate the new title. Maybe I’ll put it on my next resume.” She unfolded the page, which was thick, with the kind of gold flecking that meant either “fancy” or “someone at the post office lost their mind with a paintbrush.”

The letter read:

Harem Queen Sam,

Hi! Your friendly neighborhood dungeon mermaid Daphne at your service again! It has been quite a while since I last wrote you, and not just because it’s been 95 years since the party for us. Trolling Norah was distracting last time. Did you see the art print I got her? It’s a replica of the premier portrait of the Susan Wagner Appreciation Wing of the Royal Art Gallery here. A real treat to behold! Life is good here in post-game land. My eldest kiddies are all grown up, with their younger sisters getting to the dreaded teenage stage and their youngest sisters getting to the equally dreaded “can’t just eat through a kraken and have to swim around” phase. I wish my egg sacs stayed bigger than they did, but hey, what can I do about that?

Oh, yeah, I should give you a progress report for when I get to come play Pathfinder with you. I hit the level cap! You are getting a letter from a Level 20 Transmuter Mermaid Wizard! I know so many cool spells! I just spent a few hours turning rocks into megalodons using True Polymorph for... reasons. And, with my exit transformation, my transmuter stone doesn’t break! It’s embedded in my chest, so I always have the bit of my Beloved’s yummy cummy (back when she still made it) I used to make it near my heart. I’ve attached my updated sheet. Let me know if you need help converting it to Pathfinder!

My Beloved also made the not salty enough black water for me in a way that made it salty enough. She said that you need to add 40 grams of fancy sea salt per liter of water. She likes cold brew, so she’ll make me a batch for special occasions. I can’t have a bunch (caffeine is really bad for me!), but I enjoy the jittery feeling it gives me. I prefer it with a heavy splash of squid ink and a tiny touch of organic hu-cow milk. I hope all of that makes me cool. You think I am cool, right? At least as cool as sharks? And not a “hypersexualized cumguzzling freak”? I know my Beloved said I was her sexy shark girl, but she’s obligated to say that. It would help to get an outside opinion.

I am sure Shar already gave you wedding rings for Liesa (Hashtag SamsaForLiefe! And, BTW, did I not tell you to go for her?) so let me offer you something for a next step after that. A spell scroll of Phantom Penis. Break the seal. Spell lasts an hour. It will generate semen that matches your DNA as if you were a guy. A fun way to Hashtag GetLiesaPreggers. You know, if you want kids of your own.

Keep on being cool (I’d love it if I am cool!),

Daphne
Court Wizard Queendom of Nimlith Grove
Fourth wife of Queen Tyalangan, 48th Queen of the Copse-Wood Throne.

Sam looked up. “Wow,” she said. “That is a lot to take in.”

Liesa, who had propped herself up on one elbow for the reading, was giggling, her hand covering her mouth. “Did you say... Phantom Penis?”

Sam checked the letter again. “Yep. There’s a spell scroll in here somewhere.” She turned the envelope upside down and a rolled parchment fell onto the comforter, its seal a vivid pearlescent blue. The words PHANTOM PENIS were hand-lettered in black ink, along with a cartoon doodle of a grinning shark with a strap-on.

Liesa snatched it up, holding the scroll delicately between thumb and forefinger like it might combust. “Is this real magic? Or is she making fun of you?”

Sam shrugged. “With Daphne? Could be both. It’s a thing.” She grinned at Liesa, who was still staring at the scroll like it might try to escape.

Liesa unrolled it and read the spell’s instructions, cheeks darkening with every line. “‘User may experience mild side effects, including but not limited to: sudden onset of top energy, intense urge to rut, and, in rare cases, irresistible compulsion to make dad jokes.’” She put a hand to her forehead and collapsed backwards, kicking her legs in the air. “This is the best day ever.”

Sam felt her own face heat. “You think I’m gonna actually use that?”

Liesa caught her gaze, grinning. “Oh, definitely. You’ll make a great papa, schat.”

Sam groaned. “You realize this is probably a joke? And if I use it, the only thing I’ll get is, like, a weird rash and a new fetish.”

Liesa shrugged, stretching so her hair fell in a warm gold curtain across the pillow. “Worst case, you get to try something new. Best case...” She paused, then winked. “You make me pregnant, and then you owe me three months of back massages.”

Sam pretended to consider. “I’ll think about it,” she said, tucking the scroll safely under her pillow.

Liesa rolled onto her side, looking at Sam with that open, delighted expression she only ever used when it was just the two of them. “You want to do the next letter?”

Sam grinned, then fished in the pile for the next envelope. This one was bubblegum pink, covered in metallic stickers that spelled out IMPORTANT SURVEY INSIDE.

She opened it, and out slid a single page, printed on glossy paper:

Ms Collins,

Your Insta-Thot account has been randomly selected from our list of lapsed subscribers to TinaTitanofTrickery to complete this survey. We wish to understand better why people choose to stop subscribing to TinaTitanofTrickery in order to provide high quality Hot Tina Action. Upon completion of this survey, we will provide you a special offer as thanks.

Question 1: Which of the following best describes why you allowed your subscription to expire:
Not enough Hot Tina Action
Too much Hot Tina Action
I ran out of money
My significant other does not approve of Hot Tina Action
I decided to be lame and give up Hot Tina Action

Question 2: What was your favorite content category on our channel:
Stage Magic
IRL
F Solo
FF
FFF
FFFF
All Female Orgy
Interspecies Erotica
Requests for Tech Support
Other

Question 3: Which potential new content category would most entice you to renew your subscription:
Request for Parenting Advice
Ice Cream Burrito Assembly Lessons
Harem Hotel Behind the Scenes Insights
Backstage Antics and Bloopers
Sex Toy Maintenance

Question 4: Would the idea that TinaTitanofTrickery is the Assistant Host on a season of Harem Hotel increase or decrease your interest in renewing your subscription?

Question 5: Would the idea that TinaTitanofTrickery is regularly having sex with royalty increase or decrease your interest in renewing your subscription?

Our records also indicate that TinaTitanofTrickery has made a special video for you. Please share your thoughts about the video and what aspects of its content would entice you to renew your subscription.

Thank you for your attention to this matter,

Prudence
Independent Talent Agent
Want representation? Send a resume and a headshot to [email protected]
The special offer is: *Buy a month, get half off a month gift membership for someone else! Share the gift of TinaTitanofTrickery today!

Sam stared at the letter, then at Liesa, who was already shaking with laughter.

“Did you ever subscribe to Tina’s channel?” Liesa asked.

Sam considered the best way to answer this. “I, uh, was given a comped month around the Second Challenge. For, uh, research purposes.”

Liesa grinned. “Did you enjoy it?”

Sam tried to keep her face even. “It was... educational. She’s a legend, obviously, but the Tech Support videos were the best. The FFFF videos just made me hungry for ice cream, honestly.”

Liesa rolled onto her stomach, making a show of propping herself up so her breasts pressed flat to the bed, then fixed Sam with a mock-serious look. “Would you renew? As Claire says, for science?”

Sam made a show of reading the options. “‘Harem Hotel Behind the Scenes Insights?’ That’s almost too meta.” She hesitated, then added, “I think if she really wanted me back, she’d have to do a video about how to DM a campaign when half your party is having sex under the table.”

Liesa made a low, appreciative sound. “I’d pay to watch that.”

Sam grinned, feeling her cheeks flush with warmth. “You’re not even pretending, are you?”

Liesa shook her head. “Nope. Am shameless.”

They both laughed. Sam found she liked this, the way Liesa made the world feel easy, like everything was a joke they could share.

The next envelope was a slick black vellum, unaddressed but heavy in Sam’s palm. She slit it with a thumbnail, and out slid a tiny glass bottle the color of an oil slick—black, but with hints of green and indigo if you twisted it under the light. The label was in perfect copperplate: Just in case.

Liesa pounced on it, rolling onto her stomach and scooting forward to examine the bottle. Her ass swayed up, the motion so seamless and **** Sam almost missed the way it made the mattress dip. Liesa’s finger traced the bottle’s shape, and she looked at Sam, eyebrows raised.

“Do you think it’s a love potion?” Liesa asked.

Sam laughed. “Pretty sure we don’t need one.”

“Maybe it’s a potion for making even bigger boobs,” Liesa mused, now rolling the bottle along her chest and letting it tumble down her cleavage. She tilted her torso sideways and looked over her shoulder, hair spilling down. “It could be for making you the world’s best barista.”

Sam smirked. “I’d have to compete with myself, and that’s not a contest I want to see the outtakes of.” She popped the letter out of the envelope, and a blue-labeled bottle fell out as well. Lifting an eyebrow, Liesa claimed that one too.

Sam read aloud, voice pitching up for emphasis:

Dearest Sam.

Congratulations! I am so glad to see the love you and Liesa have for each other reach this step, may you enjoy your long lives together. If the two of you desire, I would be overjoyed to officiate your wedding here at The Castle. It would be just as binding back in your world as the ones done by Arabella, I assure you. Several of my own charges are engaged at this point as well and could use your fine example.

Also, congratulations again! I have been rooting for you since before you even arrived on the show. Your tireless care for your harem sisters has not gone unnoticed. You truly deserve the title and the ability to travel with your love once you get back. The duties are nothing you have not already been doing for the others, as that is your caring nature. Enjoy the rewards that come with your title, you deserve them.

The final rings now will let you and Liesa share your thoughts with each other. Heart, mind, and body are the two of you joined. The Claddagh has been a traditional symbol of love in my homeland, and I hope it will be for the two of you as well. Hand, heart, and crown. Love, loyalty, and friendship. Copper, Silver, and gold.

Lastly, with this letter comes another gift from me and one from my own partner. Harem Hotel is a place of miracles at times, if you wish. The black-labeled potion, if you so choose to drink, will gift you, Liesa, or both of you if you share it, a pregnancy from the other. This is likely something you have never considered before, and you can take all the time you need to think, as it will remain potent until used, but only for one of the two of you. Note that if Liesa is already pregnant with Andy’s child, that is no matter, she can safely carry both if she chooses to. The blue-labeled potion is the gift from Nimue, my own love, though I think it is more a gift to me indirectly. She believes the two of you are becoming outclassed by your peers and wishes to help you rectify the situation. Drinking half will increase your breasts by three cup sizes, so you may share, though if one of you is feeling particularly bold, she can drink the whole thing for a six cup increase. While your own strength can easily handle such worry not for Liesa, as the change includes alterations to her back muscles and such so that they will be comfortable."

Whether you choose to wed here or not, I do hope you will ask Arabella to let you visit so that I might congratulate you in person. I am so very proud of you and what you have done. Have no doubts, you are worthy as Harem Queen.

Your Patron,
Shar

Sam finished and looked up, not quite trusting her voice.

Liesa had caught the bottle and was now swirling it, holding it to the light. “Pregnant from each other,” she said, like she was rolling the words around her mouth for flavor.

Sam coughed. “Yeah. I mean, it’s not like—” She trailed off, suddenly unsure. “I don’t even know if I want kids. But it’s cool, I guess, that it’s an option.”

Liesa smiled, soft and slow. “You don’t have to decide now. We have time. But I like that it’s possible. For both of us.”

Sam turned the black bottle over in her hand, studying the slick label. The words “For One or Both” were embossed in silver, like it was a fine liquor or a designer perfume. She wasn’t sure how she felt about the idea of becoming a “father”, but she had to admit—if any show could make it work, it was Harem Hotel.

“It’s wild,” Sam said, “how we went from you being allergic to vulnerability to you offering to, like, let me get you pregnant.”

Liesa snorted, then set her chin on her arms, watching Sam with an adoring squint. “You say like it’s only me who would be pregnant, schat,” she said. “Shar might want to see you with a baby bump, too.”

Sam pretended to be scandalized. “Excuse me, I’m the one who brings flowers and remembers birthdays. I can’t be expected to also carry the children. I have a bad back.”

Liesa grinned, rolling her shoulders. “I think your back is just fine,” she said, and stretched until her chest nearly spilled off the bed. “But I would not say no to seeing you in maternity dresses. You would be adorable.”

Sam picked up a stray pillow and lobbed it at Liesa, who caught it, hugged it to her chest, and made a loud, exaggerated “mwah” sound. “If you ever want to try, you know, doing this for real, I would not hate it,” Liesa added, quieter now, her accent thickening as she got less sure of herself.

Sam heard the change and dialed back the jokes. She put the bottle on the nightstand, then took Liesa’s hand and squeezed it. “You sure?”

Liesa nodded, her mouth quirked in a tiny, crooked smile. “I want to stay with you,” she said. “And with Andy, too, but you—” She trailed off, shrugging. “If there is a way for us to make a baby together, I want to try it. Even if it is strange.”

Sam, uncharacteristically, found herself blinking away a prickle behind her eyes. “You’re not worried it’d be, like, weird for Andy? Or for you?”

Liesa reached up, threading her fingers into Sam’s blue hair, and tugged her closer until their foreheads touched. “Is always weird here,” she said, “but I have never been so happy.”

Sam grinned, tears forgotten, and kissed the tip of Liesa’s nose. She reached for the next bottle, the one with the blue label. She read the note: “If one of you is feeling particularly bold, she can drink the whole thing for a six cup increase.” Sam looked at Liesa’s already-impressive rack, then at her own, which was, in Sam’s opinion, just fine as-is.

“Wanna see what happens if you go full anime?” Sam teased, shaking the bottle.

Liesa made a show of considering. “Maybe. But I think it would be more fun if you try it. You could finally beat Erin at her own game.”

Sam tried to imagine herself with double-Fs, or whatever number was six higher than her current cup size. “I don’t think I own a bra that could handle the after,” she said, skeptical. “And all my shirts would explode.”

Liesa’s eyes sparkled. “I like that image. Pop! Like a party favor.” She rolled onto her back, stretching like a cat, then twisted to look at Sam upside-down. “We could mix it into the iced coffee. Tell Erin it is just new creamer, see what happens.”

Sam cackled. “I bet if you gave her this she’d, like, photosynthesize right through the roof. Or use it as a party prank. ‘Congratulations, you’re now the number one in the group chat.’”

“Or give it to Mildred,” Liesa mused, still upside down. “I wonder if robots can even have boobs.”

Sam thought about it. “Probably depends on the firmware. Maybe you just reboot and hope for the best.” She lay down next to Liesa, the bedspread cool against her arms. “You know, sometimes I think about how weird this would sound to anyone from the old world. Like, if you tried to explain it to my brother.”

Liesa giggled. “Your brother would think you are in a cult. And I would be the sexy cult leader.” She made a face, then switched to a lower voice. “Welcome, new member. Please remove your clothing and put on this—what is English for ‘sjerp’?”

“Uh, sash? Or maybe just go with the cult robe,” Sam offered, grinning. “You’d have a great pyramid scheme, if nothing else.”

Liesa lost it, laughing until she had to cover her mouth with both hands. Sam watched, totally in love.

After a minute, they both calmed down, leaving only the hum of the ceiling fan and the distant sound of ocean wind. Sam traced a finger down Liesa’s arm, over the constellation of freckles she’d mapped a hundred times, then tapped the small of Liesa’s back, right above the curve of her hip.

“You know I love you, right?” Sam said.

Liesa nodded, eyes soft. “I know. You say it every day. But I like hearing it.”

“I’ll keep saying it, then,” Sam replied, and rolled so they were nose to nose, their legs a tangle under the sheets.

Liesa kissed her, gentle and lingering, then pulled away just enough to say, “We should decide, later. For now, let’s just keep reading the letters, yes?”

Sam agreed. The next letter was the last. Sam had set it aside because the envelope was plain, and the handwriting on the front looked like the same kind her old high school used for truancy notices: blocky, careful, determined to be neat. She opened it and unfolded the single page inside.

Oh my gosh, I’m so happy for you! And also really surprised. I didn’t expect you to become Harem Queen of all things when we talked back at the party! But that’s so cool! And also, congratulations on marrying, um, Liesa, her name was? Congratulations, sincerely. I’m so happy for you both! Good luck!

Dani

Sam couldn’t help smiling. She read it aloud for Liesa, then held up the signature. “Dani. She was the other blue-haired girl at Andy’s party. Remember?”

Liesa nodded. “The one with the very... what is word... zesty fashion?”

“Yeah, her.” Sam laughed. She picked at the corner of the letter, thinking. “She was a really cool person. We hung out a lot during the party. She’s also a lesbian, which, on her season, is a huge pain.”

Liesa rolled onto her side, propping her head up on her hand. “Why is worse? You are happy.”

Sam grimaced, then tried to explain. “Their season, it’s… the rules aren’t as nice. The Master—the guy, Nick—he’s a good dude, but the way their set is built, only things you do with the Master count for points. Like, all the... stuff we do, all the girl-on-girl? It doesn’t help you at all in the competition. You can do it, but it’s not rewarded. So Dani is always at a disadvantage.”

Liesa frowned, chewing on the idea. “That is not fair,” she said, voice flat with the special seriousness she reserved for things that actually upset her. “Does she have anyone, at least, who likes her back?”

Sam smiled, remembering the late-night conversation on the party balcony, the way Dani’s face lit up talking about her harem. “Yeah. There’s a girl named Carly she’s really into. They’re together, but... I don’t know. It’s not easy. Dani’s always fighting to stay in the game.”

Liesa pouted. “That is sad,” she said, then looked at Sam, eyes bright. “Do you write her back? I think you should.”

Sam nodded. “I will. She deserves to know she’s not alone.” She thought about it for a second, then added, “Maybe I’ll invite her to our wedding. If we do one. Or at least the after party.”

Liesa grinned, the idea clearly appealing. “She can bring Carly. We can make it a double wedding.” Then, softer, “We are lucky, Sam. Even if we do not always win, at least we can be together.”

Sam leaned in and kissed the corner of Liesa’s mouth, catching the faint taste of chocolate from the cookies they’d been eating earlier. “Yeah,” she said. “I think we are.”

They sprawled in comfortable silence, the open letters littering the bed like the aftermath of a confetti cannon. Sam held the page from Dani between her hands, turning it over and over, thinking how weird and cool it was that people she’d met for a few hours still cared enough to write.

When Liesa opened her own letter, something soft and heavy slid out with a slow, stately rustle. For a second she thought it was tissue paper, but then she saw the shimmer of satin and the way the light caught on the hand-stitched lace. It was a wedding dress, not white but a warm cream, edged in gold. She gasped, unable to help herself.

Sam leaned in. “Holy shit, is that real?”

Liesa nodded, her fingers brushing the delicate sleeve. The fabric was thick and luxurious, the bodice cut in a way that flattered her curves without feeling like a sexed-up parody. She lifted it by the shoulders, and the dress unfurled itself, embroidered with a pattern of tiny, repeating hearts and sunbursts. At the waist, a pale blue sash finished in a bow, its tails long enough to trail behind her as she walked.

She pressed her face into the dress, inhaled, and smiled. It smelled faintly of lavender, and underneath, the clean, old-fashioned smell of linen fresh from the line. “This is beautiful,” Liesa said, voice gone small and tremulous.

Sam rested her chin on Liesa’s shoulder, letting the dress drape between them like a flag. “I think it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” she said.

Liesa didn’t answer at first. She was blinking quickly, her nose gone pink and her eyes wet. She petted the skirt with both hands, like she was worried it might evaporate.

The letter, which had fallen to the bed, was written in looping, affectionate script. Liesa read it aloud, stumbling a little at first but gaining confidence with each line:

Dear Liesa,

Congratulations! It warms my heart to see you and Sam together. You deserve this, please do not doubt yourself. It has been wonderful to see you grow and heal over your journey at the HH so that you can accept that you are needed and loved both by Andy as well as your dearest Sam.

I have sent some gifts to Sam that she might share with you and explained the final rings, but I also have a gift for you alone. The dress is in a Flemish style I hope you like, but more importantly its enchantment will let you walk down the aisle as you wish without strutting and posing, and it will let you make your vows without being overwhelmed by arousal. Just the once, it will suppress your non physical transformations.

May the Goddess bless your union.

Shar

Liesa pressed her hand to her mouth, swallowing. “I have not worn a dress like this, ever,” she admitted.

Sam took the dress, holding it up so Liesa could step into it if she wanted. “I think you should try it on,” she said, voice low. “You’ll look like a princess.”

Liesa hesitated, then let herself be coaxed. She slipped out of her shorts and tee, and Sam helped her guide the dress over her head, careful of every button and hook. Once it was on, Liesa turned, shy at first, then gradually more bold as the weight of the fabric and the fit of the bodice made her stand up a little taller, a little straighter.

Sam gaped. “You look like you stepped out of a fairy tale,” she said, unable to take her eyes off her.

Liesa twirled once, then stopped and looked down at herself. “I feel like... me,” she said, a little astonished.

She moved to the mirror, running her hands down the sides. “This is what I would have worn, if I had gotten married at home,” she said. “I never thought I would get to do it.”

Sam watched her, heart tight and overflowing. “You still can,” she said. “We could do it here, or at home, or both. Wherever you want.”

Liesa turned back, her eyes shining. “Maybe we ask Arabella to do the ceremony? If not with Andy, then before or after his. I would like to be married to you. For real.”

Sam laughed, but the sound was a little shaky. “I’d marry you a hundred times,” she said, then added, “I’m not wearing a dress, though. Maybe a really cool suit.”

Liesa giggled, the sound clear and bright. “You can wear what you like, schat. I just want you there.”

They closed the distance between them in a heartbeat, arms around each other, faces pressed together so hard their noses mushed. The dress rustled between them, the fabric smooth and cool on Sam’s bare arms.

They fell onto the bed together, the mail and wrappers and bottles forgotten. They were laughing, and then they were kissing, and then they were just lying there, the dress a warm weight around them both.