An Afternoon After Replies

Mona

If reading fan-mail and writing responses showed Mona anything, it’s that people are hiding things from her. Craig definitely is, and, from all the warnings she got, it’s something bad. She thinks Andromeda is hiding something too. She isn’t sure what it is, but Mona thinks that the arcanist android is doing it to protect her. So, she wants answers and she is going to get them. Okay, Mona, no settling; this isn’t you just selfishly wanting to be sexy or have cool magic. This is you trying to protect yourself and your harem.

“TYALANGAN!!!!!”

The Host appears, sitting down on the couch, one eye on her tablet. She smiles, saying, “You yelled?”

Mona approaches, her frame barely able to loom above the tall sea elf sitting. If Tyalangan is intimidated, she doesn’t show it. The gamer girl replies, “I have my replies written. Here.”

The Host graciously accepts the letters and they disappear. “Ophie could have given them to me. We tiptoeing around what you actually want?”

Mona pouts and plops to sit beside her, “How come Mr. Cooper and Felix and Aurelia know more about what’s going on than I do?”

A strand of the Host’s hair moves to pick up the projector remote; the device warms up and the image shifts to the season page on Harem Hotel Hereafter. Tyalangan answers in an irritating manner, “You watched your first bits of the show for reasons other than masturbation fodder this morning, correct? Anything you noticed?”

“You had a really tiny dick?”

That earns Mona a long sigh and a blunt answer, “Yes, by the time I got to that date with Scarlet, the perfectly adequate cock you saw on the Fashion Francis was shrunk down to about half an inch when erect. Thank you for noticing. Anything not pervy you notice?”

“Both of you were speaking this really weird language?”

That does not earn a sigh, but an equally blunt answer, “Elvish. I wasn’t in control of the English speaking portion of my mind at the time, since it had been taken over by a transformation induced alternate personality. Anything else?”

“Ahhh... I am not sure what answer you are looking for.”

Tyalangan starts playing the episode from last night’s date, cued up for when they first entered the Gallery of Genderbending. Mona sees herself getting excited about that Noah exhibit. Closed caption text appears under her: Oooooh, I can feel like it’s like to be played with by a sexy slime girl? I gotta go try that!

Mona blushes, her face as red as a tomato. “You... you... y-you broadcast our thoughts?”

The episode is paused mid grab. I look so hot like that! No, Mona, bad. Stop thinking!

The Host explains, “Not all of your thoughts. We definitely grab all of them, just like we capture every word and action. A significant amount of editing is done to only display the most interesting bits. But, yes, we broadcast your thoughts, both in a method that telepaths can naturally pick up and via a Closed Captioning system for the psychically impaired.”

Mona shudders. “Why are you pointing this out?”

“I gave you the premium subscription package to your own season for a reason, Mona. You want to know why you got those warnings about Craig? You can watch the scenes they saw and read the selection of thoughts that made them draw those conclusions. If you really want to dig, you can scour the VoD of every contestant’s livestream.”

Mona feels a little nauseated. She notes, “That feels way too intrusive.”

Vix is suddenly in Mona’s lap, as is a plushy of the fox. The live fox waggles her tails, hoping for pets and treats. Mona scritches some fuzzy fox ears as the Host explains, “Had I known about what Vix was plotting before she truly started down her path to elimination, I might have been able to save her. The whole harem thing is intrusive. It’s up to you whether you use the power given to you for their good or for their ill. I am not going to tell you what Craig is up to. If you truly want to know, watching it will have a bigger impact than me just stating it.”

Then Vix and the Host are both gone. Mona cuddles the plush and feels herself calm down. Okay. Time to see what Craig’s deal is. I am going to be so mad if I am violating his privacy for nothing.

Tessa

Lunch after fan-mail response time was mostly spent catching Tessa up from the discussion last night; the brief run-down she got before the meeting was insufficient. That discussion was used to determine the plan for the afternoon. Andromeda apologized, bowing out of training assistance due to the letters taking up too much time she needed to work on her date night; the android needs to finalize plans instead. So, they decided on two groups. Kevin and Gaia are already off to figure out a good weapon for the temporary badger-girl to train in. That left Tegan and herself with a lesson in Stealth on the way. Tegan wanted to do the training on her own (gathering whatever benefits Tessa can provide for training) until Kevin pointed out that it’s best for scouting to be done in pairs. He describes how a lone scout would be wiped out if they get caught and Tessa, as more melee focused, could help Tegan escape.

The two, having already paid, set off to meet the trainer at the weapon training ring. Tessa is surprised by who is waiting. Tegan is not.

Tegan: -20 BP

Tessa: -20 BP

“Avast, me hearties!” the shopkeeper declares, “It is I, Airika, former pirate queen and current sexy siren, at yer service. And what would two lovely lasses like yourselves be up to by avoiding the spotlight?”

Tegan growls a little, but is almost civil with her response, “We need to be able to gather information during the challenge.”

“Oh, thinking ahead, are we? Well, let’s get this lesson started. First thing is first: time for equipment!”

Tegan’s equipment is easy enough. A short bow, unstrung; a few bowstrings; and a quiver full of arrows. The fox-girl attaches everything to her clothes without an issue.

Tessa’s equipment is more complicated. The twin scimitars and a sword belt aren’t the problem. Her armor choice is. Clanking scale mail.

“Okay, ladies, first bit of stealth work is proper equipment selection. Foxy, your arrows will jangle if you’re not careful. Main thing is that there is a thick pad at the base of your quiver; make sure all of your arrows are secured in it to keep them from sliding. And you, my Cap’n’s sis, are going to jangle all the time in that scale mail; it’s a common problem with most armor. So, do you want to just deal or do you want to spend some coin to solve the problem?”

“Coin?” Tessa asks, arching an eyebrow.

“Aye, coin. When ye be borrowing stuff, ye be getting basic gear. Ye buy your own gear, one, ye get to keep it and two, ye can get the fancy stuff. Ye can even get it enchanted with magic later. Cap’n found a set of sea elf scale mail for ye, mithril scales sewn into eel skin leather. Guaranteed to not rust or rot in the ocean, sized just for ye. Very quiet. 50 BP, if ye be interested…”

Tessa is interested. She buys it and starts to strap it on as if she is going through the challenge, much to Tegan’s audible chagrin. The leather feels smooth on her skin. The arm coverings slip on like very long gloves, going all the way to her armpits. Straps connect the sleeves together to a scale mail neck piece and also across her bare breasts; it’s not quite a sports bra, but it helps secure her girls while not interfering with the nudity clause of her magic accessing feature. The leg coverings slip on like stockings, more or less, leaving the soles of her feet bare. The base of the leg armor loops into her big toe to secure the covering over the top of her feet; it is ever so mildly uncomfortable with her webbing, but she soon gets used to it. The tops are secured to her sword belt with straps. The whole outer surface is scales of silvery metal. Tessa flexes her fingers. Armor fits perfectly.

Tessa: -50 BP

“You trying to flaunt your giant tits in my face?” Tegan growls.

“No, but I should be learning how to be stealthy while having access to magic. And you should, too.”

The angry archer’s ears flatten as she whines, “But I don’t want to deal with the perverted stuff!”

If her insistence on maintaining modesty on a porn show causes us to fail the challenge, I am going to be so pissed. “Fine. Stay clothed for now. But, seriously, you need to get over whatever body image issue you have. At some point, we’re going to need you at your full potential.”

Airika, assuming that the two have argued enough, starts to head to wherever the stealth training grounds are at. Tessa catches up to follow, armor just as quiet as wearing nothing at all. Grumbling in what must be Sylvan, Tegan trails behind Airika and Tessa. The siren squawks about some family gossip. Tessa is glad to learn some new things about her sister’s strange family tree.

Kevin

Okay, I am concerned about Gaia’s sanity again.

The temporary badger girl is humming the theme to Chiroptera Guy Returns. Why either of them know the theme of a movie that came out nearly a decade before Gaia was born, Kevin doesn’t know. Still, Gaia made a quick, possibly stupid decision for her weapon of choice as soon as they saw the available options.

“C’mon, Kevin! I get to be just like Feline Lady!”

The whip. Gaia wants to wield a whip. As far as Kevin can tell, that is the worst weapon choice Gaia could make. Throwing a dagger will deal the same damage at a further range. Still, any damage is better than no damage, he supposes. Also, it’s not his BP. He’s just happy that she’s taking the “save the world” objective somewhat seriously.

Gaia: -20 BP

Waiting for them at the training grounds is someone neither of them has seen before. A literal angel wrapped up in a more complete set of bondage gear than what Winter wore during the drow’s “surprise”: blindfold, ballgag, armbinder, cupless corset, crotchless leather panties, and ballet boot slippers. Despite all of that, the angel is completely understandable and aware of her surroundings.

“Hello,” she says (somehow, despite the gag).

“Hi!” Gaia instantly replies, “Do you know Janessa?”

Somehow, Kevin feels that the angel rolls her eyes as she replies, “Not all angels know each other. I know OF Janessa, but have not had the pleasure. Prudence. Independent Talent Agent and Production Assistant. My card.”

Two business cards manifest in the air. Kevin pockets his into his inventory. Gaia asks, “Is this on recycled card stock?”

This Prudence sighs, “The Producer I serve can make infinite trees. You are welcome to recycle the business card when you are done with it.”

Gaia snags the card, pouting, “Then why isn’t it doing that instead of running this show?”

“One, it’s she, not it. Two, why do you assume she can’t do both?”

Gaia, thoroughly cowed, just stops complaining. Instead, she says, “So, whips? Like Feline Lady!”

“Oooh, I love whips!” the angel declares, “such an elegant source of delicious pain! We should get started.”

A basic whip manifests in the air. Gaia grins and makes whip cracking noises. I guess I should swap to Caoimhe for this.

Tegan

Tegan finds herself in the same training area as where she got to play hide ‘n’ seek with Skye. This time, they are on the other side of the game. Airika talks about mundane methods to avoid detection: camouflage, careful observation, cautious movements, checking for lines of sight, silence. While the parrot-girl notes that certain magic spells can make the work easier, good discipline even while using them are important. Not that Tegan is going to demean herself with using perverted magic. Tessa, whose big balloon tits are taunting her being bared, looks more interested in hearing about the magic options; she looks mildly disappointed in Airika admitting that magic isn’t her forte.

Still, the mundane skills come naturally. Tegan was worried that her freak ears and tail would make her stand out. They don’t. In fact, they help. Her ears help her isolate sounds; her tail helps with balance. It’s almost as if this is all instinctual.

Tessa is having a harder time of it. Airika needs to offer her more corrections. Tegan doesn’t need the assistance; she only listens to the loudest shouted corrections. Soon, they are both sneaking around the darkened areas of the training area with minimal fuss.

When Airika squawks that time is up, Tegan feels pretty accomplished. Tessa summarizes what she learned, then mumbles something rhythmic as Tegan does the same. The fox-girl feels super accomplished as the trio head back to the Hotel for dinner.

Tegan: Mixed Success – Stealth skill training

Tegan: +2 XP, Overconfidence (Training Session)

Tessa: Success – Stealth skill training

Tessa: +5 XP, Stealth skill proficiency (Training Session)

Gaia

This angel is weird...

Gaia flicks the whip and strikes the angel again. She moans, “HARDER!!!!!”

When Gaia looks to Caoimhe, the sometimes drow merely shrugs, “You know, maybe I should learn how to use a whip next week.”

They both can see femcum dribbling down the angel’s thighs. She’s really into this. Gaia whips again. The angel screams out as she cums again from the pain. I’m getting pretty good at this whip thing, though. Gaia whips her a couple of more times, as she rides though the climax. Prudence told her to after the first time.

“Okay, that was pretty good, for a beginner. You have the makings of a dommy mommy, if you are interested,” Prudence pants.

“I’m pretty sure Mona wants to be the domme of the relationship, but, if there is interest from one of the others, I can try it?”

“Keep it in mind. So, what have you learned?”

Caoimhe touches Gaia and says a few words in something that sounds like Sylvan for babies. Gaia feels the last bits of the experience fall into place as she walks through the process of using a whip. She can somehow tell than Prudence is smiling. The angel disappears, leaving a puddle of femcum on the ground below them.

Gaia: Success – Whips proficiency training

Tessa: +5 XP, Whips proficiency (Training Session)

“Ready for dinner?” Caoimhe asks.

“Yeah,” Gaia concurs, already heading over to the entrance to the Hotel. I wonder if all angels are that horny?

Craig

Craig is bounding up the stairs, mildly drunk, if you **** him to admit it. Finally, the chubby Asian bitch is calling me up. Took her long enough. Now, to get me enough XP to survive.

He sees the statue of him in front of Mistress Suite doors. The Mona statue’s look of pain and tears barely registers. The Craig statue’s look of frustration does. The gnoll growls again. Dumb bitch. It’s all her fault. She should have been enjoying my cock.

The door opens. The tiny version of the blue-skinned dyke is waiting. Through gritted teeth, she says, “The Mistress will see you now, Craig.” With a slight bow, she gestures him to enter. Enter he does. He glares at the tentacle statues. They wiggle slightly, which causes his eye to twitch.

He enters the living room, only to see a still image of him laying in the Media Room with that bunny skank hopping on his caged cock. Mona looks extremely pissed. Shit.

“What are you planning, Craig? Tell me the truth. That’s an order.”

Shit. “I am trying to figure out a way to get enough XP. I was grasping at straws.”

He doesn’t feel his dick shrink. That’s good. Mona rewinds a bit, pausing at a time stamp she must have noted, then plays the conversation between him and the bunny-slut. He hears the recording of him say, “Well, I was wanting to study some Harem Hotel. I am looking for seasons where a contestant bends the Mistress to his will. Do you know how I can pull the film?” SHIIIIITTTTT!!!!!!!

“Explain that, Craig. Tell me the truth. That’s an order.”

How to phrase this safely? “I was trying to figure out a way to get enough BP and XP. I figured that you’d be unwilling to help me to the extent that you need to.”

He feels his cock shrink. Shit, not close enough to the truth. Mona fast forwards to another time stamp. He sees the record display his thoughts from yesterday: “I need Mona to act as a sugar mama and pay for my training, but she just bitched out on me. I can’t put her under my thumb instantaneously; I need fucking time I won’t have if I am eliminated in a couple of days. Fuck! What do I do?” DOUBLE SHIT!!!!!!

“Don’t bullshit me, Craig. I’ve spent the last several hours catching up to what you’ve been doing. I KNOW you want to break me like that tall vampire lady broke that creepy Steven guy. So, tell me why I shouldn’t order your cock to oblivion? That’s an order.”

Craig’s mind is running haywire as Mona stares him down. It’s all falling apart. That idiot bitch figured it out. I bet that fucking blue dyke just blabbed. Fuck her. Fuck this. “Because I will make sure you suffer before that fucking dyke can stop me, if I can. And you are not heartless like that Steven guy. Having whatever broken remnant of me around after the dyke got finished with me will hurt you for a long fucking time. So, you gonna do what you need to do to prevent me getting eliminated or are you going to bitch me out more?”

Another good news, bad news response. Good news: his cock doesn’t shrink. Bad news: the notification ding fires off.

Craig: -1 XP (Stop it with the Slurs Already!)

Mona gets small at that, unable to look him in the eyes. Good. When she speaks again, Craig realizes how badly he just fucked up. “I am not going to fund my own spiritual demise, Craig. Don’t you dare ask for me to buy you anything again. You are banished from my presence outside of mandatory events. That’s an order. Out. Now.”

Craig stomps his way out of the Suite, nearly taking a swing at the tiny blue bitch. What the fuck am I going to do now?