The New Old Friend

DontAsk01: Give me a call when your game is done?

AprilSh0wers: np

AprilSh0wers: ttyl

April minimised the chat window and turned her attention back to the game just in time for her respawn timer to hit zero. They were losing. Badly. But it was mostly not her fault. Team games were always a lot trickier when your teammates were so terrible at communicating.

“I’m back up, going to hit their jungle on my way back to lane,” she said into the microphone of her cat-eared headset, “Keep their attention for a bit, see if you can push the tower if they try to stop me.”

“You should be hitting the kitchen rather than the jungle,” came one nasal laugh.

“You can push my tower anytime, babe,” said a deeper but no less annoying voice.

“Come on, guys,” April sighed, already moving, hoping they’d paid at least some amount of attention to what she’d suggested.

“I’d rather cum on you,” said a third voice.

The voice chat dissolved into raucous laughter, and April tried her best to ignore her confused feelings from the casual misogyny. On one hand, it was nice to be recognised as a girl. On the other hand though, it was rude, and they were still losing. She took her character into the jungle, got the kill, then died in the counter-ambush that followed. The enemy team took two of their towers in the time it took her teammates to reach the site of the fight, against her advice, and realise it was already over. They’d be fighting a last stand at the base by the time she respawned.

While the timer ticked down, April pulled out one of her sketchpads and a pencil, beginning a quick doodle to get an idea down out of her head. The misogynistic degradation could have been kind of hot, if she’d had any kind of interest whatsoever in the people throwing it at her. A very rough outline formed of a feminine figure, viewed from the side, as she stood in front of a counter with some kind of kitchen utensil in her hand. Behind her, a larger figure was posed as though casually striding through on the way to somewhere else, one arm raised to slap the woman’s ass as he passed her by.

The audio sting from the game warned April that she was about to respawn, and she switched her focus back to the keyboard and mouse. Her character leapt into the middle of the siege underway in the middle lane, got two kills within ten seconds, then died once more. The base crumbled and fell before her teammates could even try and take advantage of the opening she’d given them for a counterattack. Oh well.

Closing the game down, April tabbed over to the messenger program, clicking the call button to ring through to Grace. She chewed slightly on the end of the pencil as she examined the sketch. It needed a little more substance to be good enough for her to work on a complete version to post or sell. With quick, confident lines she added a frilly apron to the woman, and a pair of panties that served to emphasise the fact that she was otherwise naked.

That was better, but not quite there yet. April hesitated for a moment, then in one smooth stroke she outlined a large bulge in the crotch of the apron. Perfect. She’d digitise that later, and hopefully have a finished version ready for posting at some point over the weekend.

The thought about the weekend made April’s shoulders sag. She wheeled her chair back from the desk and wandered over to the full length mirror. Her grandparents were coming to visit, and Grandma and Grandpa Kapoor wouldn’t be expecting to see “April” while they were here. That would mean no makeup, no cute skirts, no tight tops unless she wanted to bind down her small breasts. She’d have to pitch her voice lower too, which was annoying just when she was finally starting to be happy with the results of her vocal training.

April sighed, adjusted her cat-ear headphones and flicked out her shiny black hair. Grandpa had asked her parents when “he” was getting it cut the last time they’d come over, as if she wasn’t a full grown adult and capable of making her own decisions about hairstyle. As if she wasn’t a “she” at all. She fidgeted with the hem of the skirt, revealing the thin band of brown skin below it to her own reflection. Maybe she could get away with some thigh-high socks or stockings, if she wore them under a pair of trousers.

Looking around the room, April catalogued the things that would need to be stashed away in case they decided to pop their heads through the door. The various sex toys were well hidden already, as usual, but she’d need to bury all the clothes that didn’t pass for menswear. Makeup would need to be concealed. Any drawing stuff, obviously, unless she was actively working on it and ready to hide it at a moment’s notice. Her pills. She’d give the rest of the house a onceover too, but there probably wouldn’t be anything incriminating out there if her parents had anything to do with it. She didn’t even look like a woman in any of the family photos on the walls.

Grace still hadn’t picked up, which was weird. Maybe she’d stepped away to do something. The front door slammed, and loud excitable voices yammered from downstairs. Mum and dad must have just got back with the shopping. April glanced at the call - four minutes long and still no answer - then hung it up with a grimace and removed her headset. If she wanted to get any amount of leeway from her parents this weekend, if she wanted to continue living under their roof, then she’d need to stay in their good books. She should go see if they needed any help.

April stepped out of her bedroom and into a castle.

“Okay, what’s the twist this time?” Matt asked the short redhead, looking down at April from a golden throne with a curious expression, “Because I really don’t recognise whoever this is.”

April wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or disappointed, but settled for confusion. She’d only gone through her bedroom doorway, and now she was standing in the middle of a throne room, surrounded by women she mostly didn’t know. She recognised Grace, at least, which was some small consolation. She also recognised Matt and his wife, but only because of some light social media stalking and coming across the Hawkins’ wedding photos.

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out pretty quickly, Matty boy,” the redhead chuckled, then skipped over to April with a mischievous grin on her face, “Welcome to Harem Hotel! Let’s get you up to speed.”

April squeaked in surprise as the quill jabbed into her thigh, but didn’t even try to fight the compulsion as she walked over and took the second-to-last seat. Oh fuck. She was in a harem, competing with the other women to become a sex **** for one of her childhood friends. She squeezed her legs together as she sat next to Grace, hoping she wouldn’t show a tent in her skirt as her confused hormones tried to give her an erection. Rather than looking at the invisible Audience, she looked directly at Matt as she answered the questions.

“Hi, my name is April Kapoor and I’m a twenty eight year-old artist. I’m pansexual, but I’ve never done anything sexual with someone else in person. I know the Master because we went to the same primary school and we used to play together sometimes.”

“Kapoor...” Matt said slowly, his brow furrowed in thought, “Did I hang out with your brother, or something?”

“Um. Not my brother, no,” April said quietly, giving a shaky smile as she felt her face heat up. Grace put a hand on her thigh and squeezed gently.

“...oh!” Matt’s eyes went wide with surprise and recognition, but thankfully not with shock or disgust. “April, huh?” he rolled the name around as though trying it on for size. “It suits you. I’d say it’s good to see you again, but I guess you probably wouldn’t have wanted it to be by being **** into a harem.”

“That’s alright, I don’t exactly mind,” April admitted, then clapped a hand over her mouth as she realised what she had just admitted. Grace’s hand flinched away from her thigh, and a brash laugh came from further down the line.

“I didn’t expect anyone else to want to be here,” Max leaned forward with a salacious smile, “Nice to have some more representation in the melanin crew too. I wonder what kinks you’ve got in common with our beloved Master then?”

“Don’t start trying to list them, or we’ll be here all night,” Scarlet quipped, dancing right back into the centre of attention.

“Eep!” April squeaked in embarrassment and folded her arms across her lap to hide the very definite tent that sprung up in response, as her level of perversion was revealed - or at least implied - to the whole harem.

Max laughed again. Sarah and Grace looked uncomfortable. Emma and Matt looked at April with something like sympathy. Eleanor sneered, but the goth girl’s disgust only made the erection worse. Poppy seemed only barely aware that another person had arrived as she examined the dragon rendered in colourful glass on the wall behind the throne.

Scarlet snapped her fingers, and flourished the feather quill once more. “And now we move on to our grand finale! Every good season of Harem Hotel needs a bit of catharsis, so let’s round out our Contestants with someone that the Master won’t feel too bad about taking out his frustrations on...”