Tina Date Night 1, Part 1: Devour or Die!

Tina

Tina stands before the doors of the Master’s Suite. She makes a face at the disgusting banner still hanging above the door. She tries said door. Locked. Well, there is a reason she showed up 15 minutes early; she wanted time to stick it to her captor.

Kind of annoyed that I spent BP on that book when I could’ve just unlocked all that knowledge directly. Everything makes so much more sense now, muses Tina, examining the door. She sees the weave of magic sealing the door shut. There is a spell that can break open this door directly, but it’ll cost me most of my spell points to attempt to use. And if I fail... No, let’s try a different way.

She stares at the magical effect, willing it to make sense. Gentler coaxings and probings, no need for the full **** of casting a spell. The door lock slowly materializes. Only a few minutes left, Tina notes as the lock is finally located entirely in the material plane of this weird-ass dimension.

She doffs her new magician’s top hat. It’s not nearly as cute as the tiny one she would normally wear, but it’s so much better. She stares at the lock again, intuiting the shape of the key needed to unlock it. With 30 seconds to spare, she reaches into her hat and pulls out the necessary key. She inserts it, unlocks the door, and enters the Suite. Fuck you, Beckie, Tina concludes as she slides her ears into the hat’s ear holes, fuck you.

Francis

Don’t stare at her tits. Don’t stare at her tits. Don’t stare at her tits.

Francis is rather surprised to see his date for the evening. A buxom blonde “wearing” an inverse bunny girl costume. She has on a red top hat with an ace of diamonds tucked into the white ribbon at the base. Two bunny ears, with fur matching the blonde’s natural hair, stick out through the brim. She has a tux shirt collar with a red bow tie secured around her neck. White gloves that reach her elbows are accentuated by tux cuffs with red cuff links; the gloves have a pattern of red diamonds tracing along from her third knuckle to the humeroulnar joint. Red silk stockings, held up by garters, and red wedge heels complete the look. And it is taking every bit of willpower to not look at the fact that she is wearing nothing else.

She’s the first to speak, “Hey, my phone should’ve gone off by now. Don’t tell me this costume covers up too much for me to get those VP. This is more embarrassing than going around naked.”

Stunned, Francis could do nothing but reply, “What?”

“Oh, us girls ain’t dumb,” the bonny bunny exclaims, “We all know that there are points up for grabs for being seen naked. Should I strip or...”

“Sorry, sorry. I’m trying to be a gentleman here.”

The girl puts on a wicked grin, teasing “In that case, you have my permission to ogle me as much as you want tonight. I’m Tina, in case you were wondering.” She holds out her hand as if she expected him to kiss it in such a way as to draw attention to her bountiful breasts. They jiggle slightly at her movement.

Tina: +8 VP (Displayed Almost Naked Slut Body to Master x2 Bonus [first time master participant])

Tina: +2 VP (But She’s Only Wearing Fetishwear...)

Francis feels a little extra awkward as he kisses the presented hand. His eyes are drawn down her body as he leans down. Her stomach is soft, but flat; it looks like she doesn’t work out as intensively as Josie, but at least takes care of herself. Her pubic hair is shaped like a diamond, which he finds a little odd.

Noticing the look of confusion, she explains, “I always wanted to play the Vegas strip as a stage magician. The casino card motif felt like a good fit, so, when I first got the taste of real magic, I went with it. Skye suggested diamonds over hearts. You like what you see?”

He finishes taking her in before answering. Her hips are a little narrower than her chest, but her legs look long and lean. “Yeah,” he answers, “You are gorgeous.”

“Good,” she states, “Wouldn’t want my future girlfriend to not have the hots for me. Dinner should be waiting for us. Feel free to perv on my backside.” She walks towards the dining area, rolling her hips as she sways once she is in full view.

That can’t be a buttplug; it’s sitting too high, Francis panics, noticing the rabbit tail coming from the base of Tina’s spine. “Uuuh, Tina?”

She turns her head over her shoulder and gives him a wink, “Yeah, cutie?”

“Ummm...”

“Rabbit got your tongue?” She laughs at her (bad) joke, “Let’s say I made some decisions in this game that some people would regret making. We can talk about it after dinner.” The tail wiggles as she continues to walk to the table.

And what a spread is to be found: a shrimp cocktail, a salad, a baked potato with all the trimmings, 4 dinner rolls each with some kind of whipped butter, a hefty slice of cherry pie, and a slab of beef the size of 2 dinner plates. The dinner setting is complete with a set of romantic candles, unlit, and an unchilled bottle of cheap bubbly wine in one of those metal service buckets. Tina sits at the throne, jumps up at her phone notification, then meekly sits at the other dinner setting, whining, “Really?”

Tina: -1 VP (That’s Master’s Chair, ****)

Francis moves his ridiculous 4-course meal to another seat and sits down. What have I gotten myself into now?

Sensing his hesitation, Tina explains, “Back home in Gamblin’, Nevada (It’s like Vegas, but more economical), we have a big steakhouse called the 100 Grand right by the town casino. They have this 100 oz steak dinner challenge. I always wanted to try it, but you have to pay in advance and it is sooo expensive if you fail. Since you can apparently order anything you want in the Master Suite and we’ve had nothing but carny food on sticks downstairs, I figure ‘Why not try the challenge here for free?’”

“Kinda like the one at the Big Texan up in Amarillo?”

“The Gamblin’ Nevada Board of Tourism does not allow residents to acknowledge any such restaurant that started a similar challenge several decades before the founding of the town,” Tina states, completely deadpan.

Francis snorts at that.

Tina leans in to whisper, “Seriously, you don’t mess with the Gamblin’ Nevada Board of Tourism. They are a bunch of Sicilian mobster types that will break your kneecaps and then get the town to charge you with a hefty fine for breaking the town ordinance against speaking ill of them. But you didn’t hear that from me.”

“I think the Gambling Nevada Board of Tourism is the least of our worries, considering we have been kidnapped by intergalactic smut peddlers to entertain who-knows-what,” Francis chuckles.

“Point taken. Especially considering that I can now do this,” Tina blushes a little as the candles at the table light one by one. The metal bucket frosts as the wine is perfectly chilled. Francis freaks out a little as he feels his hands spontaneously become... clean? Tina doffs her hat again, revealing that the ears are attached to her head, and sets it on the table beside her. “While I have this spell up, do you think everything is to your liking flavor-wise? I’ve been struggling on nailing natural flavors, but I can definitely make your food taste like imitation bacon bits or fake ear wax, if you’d prefer. Did you know some complete psycho made artificial ear wax flavor and put it in candy for children?”

“Yeah. I’d dare students to eat some for bonus points. I’d eat some of ‘em while doing it too. People usually didn’t throw up.”

“Funny. Soooo, the rules for the challenge are: no leaving the table, no puking, gotta eat everything, one-hour time limit. Let’s say the bigger loser has to do something embarrassing. You in?”

Francis, knowing he is going to feel miserable eating the giant mound of carbs that make up like half this meal, agrees. Tina lifts her phone and sets the timer. “As they say at the 100 Grand, ‘Devour or Die!’” The timer is started. Francis starts with the shrimp cocktail and regrets it; between having a mild food intolerance for the tomatoes in the sauce and a heavy distaste for shrimp, it’s so gross. He almost instantly pushes the plastic martini glass aside. The rolls taste like “bought from a warehouse” mediocrity, which, while an improvement, is nothing to be happy about; he finishes one, resolving to maybe use some of the rest for meat juice sopping later. The salad feels like it came straight from a school cafeteria from the 1970’s: iceberg lettuce, with a blessed few slices of beefsteak tomatoes, slathered in thousand island dressing. He hated it, but at least he finished one dish. The potato was under cooked; the fixings turned out to be fake bacon bits, dehydrated chives, and a particularly plastic-y tasting margarine that left the potato untouched after a single bite. The steak is pretty badly cooked, hovering somewhere between medium-well to burnt; Tina’s steak looks equally awful. Francis gets about a tenth of it down (at least it’s protein). The slice of pie was unnervingly good. 30 minutes in, Francis leans back and signals that he is done. Tina quits soon after.

“That was awful,” they shout, simultaneously. “I guess that’s what you get for hiring your head chef from an Internet culinary school. So glad we didn’t pay $200 each for this,” Tina adds.

“How are we judging who won this terrible, terrible competition?”

Francis hears a splash behind him. Ariel shimmies her way to the table and lifts herself up enough to look at the devastating results of dinner. The mermaid stares for a moment, then declares, “Girl won. His forfeit should be cumming in my mouth. We doing this now or what?”

“The goal is to do something that is embarrassing for him, not for both of us. Hmm... I know!”

Francis watches in horror as his hands turn puke green.

“It’ll go back to normal in an hour. You’re fine.”

Josie

Josie stares at her bedmate, trying to figure out how to get her in the mood for a little banging before bed, “I’m sure there’s something I can do to get you off, Dinah.”

The de-aged doctor looks like she is doing some calculations in her head, “I don’t know exactly where you are on your cycle, so these are the low end numbers. A woman of your health and age has the following probabilities of impregnating me: 3% per act with toy use (and I refuse to let you borrow a toy from Indigo for that), 5% per act for fingering, 12% per act for oral, 28% per act of vaginal on vaginal stimulation. If you are actually ovulating, those numbers increase significantly. Those numbers do not include the ‘double odds’ for being my harem sister. I have absolutely no desire for anal. So, I just have to suck it up for one more day and then have the professor put a bun in my oven, as it were.”

Josie sighs, “But I just want to make you feel good.”

“I promise that, as soon as I know the professor has gotten me with child, I will let you absolutely ravage me. The best way you can make me feel good right now is to just drop it.”

With that, the conversation ends. Josie sees she’s stuck her foot in her mouth again. Dinah probably just wants to be left alone. Maybe I can sneak my way into Scarlet’s bed tonight?

Josie’s phone goes off. She reads the three text messages out loud. Apparently, Francis was able to figure out how to schedule an automated text message on his phone:

“No promises, but I may have found a way to pay for transformation upgrades such that I can control how the transformation is improved. When you get a chance tonight, can you respond to this message with both the exact wording of your transformation and a priority list of what bothers you about it? This’ll hopefully give me a chance to both ease your suffering and get me practice for my supposed veto power. Oh, can one of you tell Dinah; she should be the only one I haven’t had a date with by the time this goes out. While I probably can’t get a text about her issue, I still want her to think about what she’d want fixing if my way comes together. Thanks.”

“P.S. Sorry if I don’t answer immediately. I have my phone on ‘Do Not Disturb’ mode as to not ruin Tina’s date with me distracted.”

“P.P.S. I still feel kind of gross about this, but I used Añil’s phone app to build some behavioral reinforcements. If she does something egregious and/or worthy of a reward, let me know.”

Josie immediately looks at her bedmate, who appears stunned by the sudden message. Deciding she needs more time to process, she returns her attention to her phone. She knows exactly what she needs to say to him. A screenshot of her transformation text is sent, followed by a request to “either fucking remove the thing or at least make it so it’s not a constantly on fucking hair trigger” and a note that Indigo ate an entire anchovy and pineapple pizza today with a vomiting emoji.

Dinah finally speaks, “Hey, text him that I’ll talk to him about it tomorrow night. Can I have the room to myself? Need some time to think.”

Josie heads towards the frame where a door should be and gives her bedmate one final look for the night, “On it. Good night.”

Tina

Tina looks bemused as her apparent Master tries to shoo away the lionfish mermaid from the Suite. Promising two feedings tomorrow seems to do the trick, as the girl eventually shimmies her way into a tube. He turns around, “Sorry about that. I have a deal going on with the hotel staff. They help me lightly break the rules of the game, I feed them semen. Sometimes they get a little pushy. Speaking of...”

Francis summarizes his potential upgrade proposal, ending with, “...but I suppose you aren’t interested?”

She considers it for a second. “So, I got two transformations so far, both of them I purchased, and I am generally happy with them. The bunny girl one is super fun: the ears, the tail, getting mad hops, even getting turned on easier. I know I wouldn’t have been able to flirt with you without it right now; even if I was attracted to current you, I rarely felt horny enough to proposition anyone so directly. Only change I would think about proposing would be to add a line about how ‘everyone considers it normal’ or that ‘bunny girls are just a thing back home’.”

“You are actually happy about being like... that?”

She responds, “Yup. The other transformation...”

“The one I helped pay for, right?” he interrupts.

“Figured it out?”

“I gave it 50/50 odds it was you or Vix. Then you showed off before dinner.”

“Gotcha. Anyways, the other transformation is super long and complicated. I have an okay understanding about the magic behind it now, but I don’t quite get the game mechanism stuff. Never was that kind of nerd. I can spend hours spoiling how various stage magic tricks work, if you want. Regardless, I can live with the sexy consequences.”

She hands him a sheet of parchment paper straight out of a medieval scroll. He looks increasingly concerned as he reads.

“Okay, I have a feeling that this is using a different dice system than the d20 system used in DoD games from our Earth. I’ll have to ask about that. Are you sure you’re okay with being essentially nude to use magic? And being stunned for a minute the first time you orgasm every day? While having the ability to cast spells beyond your understanding could be useful, I imagine it is incredibly risky.”

“The old version of the transformation would strip me of random parts of my clothes on every cast. And I only had the fun cantrip, no real spells. Knowing I can get a lot more cantrip casts without needing to wear my entire wardrobe is great! And the orgasm I had from draining my spell points this afternoon was sooo amazing. In fact, next up on our date schedule is a magic show. C’mon.”

Tina grabs Francis’ wrist and half drags him to his gym nook. It was the only place in the Master Suite that had enough open space to make sure she didn’t break anything. She goes through her pre-show ritual. Rolling her shoulders while stretching her neck. Pulling her arms into a series of stretches. Making sure her hat is positioned just so. Smoothing out her clothes to remove any wrinkles (but that just turned into a sexual grazing of her nude torso). A quick pirouette and a wink to where her boss would be (if she weren’t doing this solo). She then turns to her audience of one and exclaims, “Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, be prepared to be amazed by the magical wonder of Tina, the Titan of Trickery!” She continues by making fake audience shouting noises.