Tyalangan Gets An Award

The Show-Runner

This is a spicy reproduction of my response chapter for the Marcie and Gina Reads CHYOA review of the first season’s Week 2. It is much less edited version than last time, as I had a lot less redactions. Check out the image of the sick wall-hanger that Tyalangan got (and get some more context) in the link above! Marcie and Gina is going to be popping up at the wedding, too.

Harper

Harper sits in her office, dealing with several balls in the air. Tina’s latest batch of bunny babies are about to turn one day old. Andy’s wedding cross-over is to start tomorrow morning, so her +1s need to get ready. The Mistress of the new season and her +1s need to have appropriate things packed up by the Hotel staff. Then, they need to be teleported to the ship, when the time comes. The show-runner is busy with editing another chapter for the transcript as Harper approves scene edits for the broadcast. Stanley is busy handling new employee orientation, though those knuckleheads won’t be officially starting until after the wedding. And, of course, network legal is on her ass for some of her contingencies for how she suspects tonight’s date is going to conclude. Good thing I have an exceptional lawyer on call.

So, it is with some amusement that Josie tromps into the office with a painting, framed and ready to be displayed. She lays it on the wall, snorting, “Hey, old lady, the cat in the Hotel retail store told me to drop this off. Something, something, why can’t you set up your own mail room, something, something. I kind of stopped paying attention?”

Harper stands up to examine the painting. She admits that it is a good stylistic rendition of her, though it missed the gills and webbed digits. “Any explanation of the painting’s contents?”

“Nope,” the gym girl exclaims, then smirks, “You should wear a bikini more.”

Harper is forced to agree, “I suppose I should. I’ll make sure to throw some in with my wedding weekend luggage, just in case. Annoyed I’m not taking you?”

“Nah. The less Hotel shit, the better.”

“I saw that letter you sent. And I understood what you were implying...”

Josie turns a little pink on the cheeks, muttering, “That’s different. She’s hot.”

Not going to argue about that. Especially since she’s right. Harper arches an eyebrow as she returns to her desk. Sure enough, a review of their old season’s Week 2 has been posted to the Marcie and Gina Reviews website. Also, the contents of it would spoil a surprise for Daphne. She hits the print button, then collects the hardcopy.

“I don’t like the look you’re giving me, old lady.”

“Well, we need to make a rebuttal and, between baby bunny duties and show duties, you’re the only one available to do it with me. Unless you rather deal with poopie diapers.”

Josie snarls, then sighs. “Fine, but we are going to have sex while we do it.”

“Ah, that’s an old review rebuttal tradition. Glad to oblige you, whipper snapper. But first, hit it!”

READING WHILE WALKING TO BED IN PROGRESS (BGM or BGM, depending)

The royal bedchamber is immaculate, as always. Harper’s wolf-woman, a muscled and toned delight, is sprawled upon the bed. The sea elf sashays over to the bed and pats a space beside it. An advantage of an Inventory is the ability to quickly unequip and store everything, so the Mistress is naked before her bare bottom meets the well made mattress.

“Shall we?”

Josie sighs and sits up. With a gentle caress of those delectable abs, Harper starts to point out what is worth commenting on from the review:

“As for the Master...”

[quote cut to prevent quote-ception]

“You think that’s enough shit? Why can’t these fuckers never keep the [TFs] simple! I don’t want to need a High School diploma just to be able to read this!”

“Uhm, old lady?”

Harper gently kisses along Josie’s neck as she makes a hum of acknowledgment.

Josie squirms, “Are you trying to get me to cum from basically just tummy rubs?”

“Well,” -kiss- “we are” -kiss- “one-on-one right now” -love nip- “and the perverts” -kiss- “from the MM club” -long slow lick- “made the request.”

Josie responds with a hair tug. “Well, two can play the weird orgasm game.”

“Good,” Harper coos, “Back to the review. Love the painting and the vote of confidence, Gina, but complaining about reading three small paragraphs does not speak well to Marcie’s claim that you aced high school.”

“Seriously,” Josie pants as Harper teases her six pack a little more deeply, “have you seen the giant piles of word salad Cass comes up with? Those aren’t that bad.”

“You appear to want to have sexual intercourse with a lot of individuals on this season, Gina.”

“I mean,” Josie says as she coils Harper’s braids in her hand, “why wouldn’t she? We’re hot and would treat her right, unlike a certain blonde ‘empress.’” Josie feels her wolf den dampening from the tummy teases. Harper’s sea cave is also glistening.

“Look, I can get behind gender bender. But it is just not fun when they are into it. I want Francis squirming and blushing. I want him have to relearn how to use the toilet! Make that dork cringe while having to walk in heels!”

“I mean, you got that last part.”

“Gina is right, you did get to see me learn how to strut in high heels, Marcie. I also disagree with the general sentiment. While I wasn’t squirming and blushing from the effort, I wasn’t ‘into it.’ I was doing what needed to be done, not reveling in the process. Sorry for being a little too stoic about it, I suppose?”

“My old lady also taught anatomy. So, ‘relearning how to use a toilet’ wouldn’t have been that embarrassing. Sure, my old lady only understood how ladies do that in an academic sense, but it isn’t so hard that she’d pee all over the place. Dumbass.”

“YOU’RE NOT A SHARK, YOU STUPID MAIDMEER!”

“Hashtag MermaidsAreLikeSharksButBetter.” Harper then lets out a keening whine, as she is getting close. Her hair grabs hold of Josie’s hand, squeezing and yanking, seeking more of that delicious stimulation.

“What makes a shark girl in your eyes, Gina? Is it the serrated teeth? Cartilaginous bones? Ram-jet gill respiratory system? Dermal denticle scales? Urea concentration osmoregulation? ‘Cause the Fish has at least some of that.”

Several sea foam green tresses wrap around Josie’s stomach and squeeze. They cum at the same time, enjoying the sensation and slowly returning to reality. Panting, Harper teases, “You know a lot about sharks, Josie.”

“Oh, us girls that can’t fall into reverie learned a whole lot about sharks. You are so lucky that you haven’t been kept up by the Fish’s late night shark fact lectures.”

Caressing Josie’s abs again with a few braids, Harper notes, “Fair.”

“Yeah, this went dark really fucking quick. Hell, this might be the darkest season we covered in regards to how murderous everyone is.”

“Weird thing to pause on, old lady. Gonna defend the hag with this one?”

Harper scoots back onto the bed proper, legs open wide. She waggles her eyebrows, holding the website print-off with some of her hair. She then answers, “Certainly not. It is still an interesting complaint to explore. These two gooners have reviewed a bunch of Hotel seasons, but really only three of them could be considered ‘dark’: Michael Clark’s Casino season, Caleb Ward’s ‘The One with the Ridiculously Long Italian Name’ season, and ours. They only got to the first two rounds of all three of them at this point, so they don’t know how that bastard Clark’s season ended up, but, if anything sets our nightmare apart from the other dark seasons, it is that we actually took advantage of resources to fight against the hag. It is a perfectly sensible thing to throw a coup and go to war against a tyrannical force. Marcie has but an inkling of it. Granted, Marcie’s idea of going to war is pulling pranks or spiking volleyballs instead of, you know, swinging swords or firing arrows. One would think she’d appreciate the gumption. Then again, she just kind of dumb lucked her way into ruling her ‘empire,’ so...”

Josie is between Harper’s legs now. Her bloodlust manifests as her tongue grows much, much larger. Harper’s eyes flutter as the wolf tongue plunges inside of her. She still stammers out her next note:

“Speaking [of class,] Indigo wakes up in a [kiddie pool] full of cum. Incidentally, we had that in the last story too. That’s two strikes, you disgusting slug. If it happens a third time I’m going to fucking salt you.”

“French food. Brrr….”

Josie pulls out long enough to note, “That’s almost as many typos as Cow-guy transcribing Shar’s season.”

“Also, sea slugs are not usually cooked. The closest thing to humans eating sea slugs would be sea cucumbers, which are a part of Chinese cuisine, not French. I presume that was a bad escargot reference?”

“Gina please. Curtis is much more dashing than Francis.”

“And,” Harper snarks between gasps from Josie’s ministrations, “now I am much more dashing than him. I bet Gina would agree.”

“THEN WHY WOULD YOU LICK IT?”

“Gina, Indigo has to do it to become more powerful.”

“If getting more powerful involves licking up Hag juices then maybe you want to rethink your [life] choices!”

“Fair. Indi should have rethought a bunch of things.”

“Yet another typo, too.” Josie mumbles, tongue filling Harper’s love trench so completely. She starts to undulate her tongue.

“More Dungeon nerd shit. [Ugh, we] are not even on the second date and had like three fucking battles!”

“Hey, I had fun beating up yakuza bunny-girls with Josie. Speaking of having fun with Josie, keep going...”

“But honestly, despite being called a Breastaurant, it does not actually feature that many breasts. With a tasty name like this you expect customers to eat body sushi. Or dip hot sauce [off] of a woman’s cleavage with a piece of bread.”

“Obvious Marcie has never been in a real breastaurant before. They are surprisingly tame, in general. Just low-cut tops and booty shorts on the wait staff serving mediocre bar food. Cum Guzzlers at least forces the female customers to strip naked and get covered in cum. As fairly noted, not very classy. But, it was a promotional private meal that we didn’t even get to eat, due to regional manager murder.”

“You do not have an issue with it, Gina?”

“You bet I do!”

“Ah.”

“I hate that it took a hundred fucking chapters!”

“Incorrect. It took 91 chapters. It even says so in the chapter title.”

Josie keeps pumping, shaking her head at the sea elf’s pedantic spat. Harper squirms in pleasure. She scritches some wolf-ears, which gets Josie to howl in delight. The vibrations are exquisite. It won’t take too much longer.

“Not sufficient. Girls like Indigo need a tight leash. She shouldn’t even be allowed to use the toilet without your permission.”

“I am surprised that you need this explained, Marcie, but it looks like you do. I used the app’s macro programming feature to monitor Indi’s actions and automatically punish her. And then, the punishment stuck until I got around to dealing with it. I had six other women who needed my attention. If I devoted all of my time supervising Indigo, they would needlessly suffer. And the machine dealt with her way more effectively than I could. I’m sure that, if I went back to read about your various exploitations of poor Gina, I’d find examples of you setting a command and letting the curse ensure that Gina followed through instead of watching her every second of every day. And you did not have the excuse of having other cursed girls needing you.”

“I think the big issue with this is that there are no consequences. Failure to clear a level simply means the group has to try again. This works in videogames, but as a story it falls rather flat.”

“Fair,” Harper moans, almost on the verge again. “The only real consequence to failing a delve was the opportunity cost for failing to finish that level that day. But, to be fair, the hag forgot to remove the whole system from the season design spec. Also, if I remember right, some certain goonettes like to complain how aimless the date days are, outside of the date proper. We at least found something to do. To skip ahead for a bit, also fair was...”

“Fucking hell! Why the fuck are we switching viewpoints like the slug had too much coffee?”

“I’d ask the show-runner why it cut the second challenge the way it did, but it’s back in the office. If I had to guess, it felt like it needed to follow the format of perspective switching? Or that each contestant’s text summary was only half to two-thirds of a normal chapter length and it wanted to follow the page count standard it set? Looking back, the “Some Go To War” challenge chapter was especially jarring,” Harper pauses to whine and shove Josie’s face into her crotch. “Little more, Josie. Sooo close.”

“[Holy] fuck, that fox bitch might be the biggest loser in the entirety of Harem Hotel. Mira wishes she could fuck up that badly.”

[skipping some banter]

“Not as done as Indi who got turned into a fox familiar.”

“As in actual fox. Who can cast magic. Given what could have happened to her, I say the slut got off lightly.”

“Hm yes, personally I would have kept her mind intact and [simply] force her to obey all of [Harper’s] orders. [She] could have made her perform tricks and balance a ball on her nose. That would have been much more humiliating.”

“For the love of God, don’t sexualize the fox!”

Harper goes cross-eyed as she hits another climax. When the world returns to normal, she shifts positions to slip some webbed fingers up into Josie’s wolf den.

“Old lady, I still think you went too light on the bitch,” Josie groans as her Mistress gets started on her turn, “but fuck Marcie.”

Harper leans forward as kisses Josie on the shoulder. “She doesn’t get just what it’s like to live with someone bound to you like that. Sure, tormenting Indi like that would have been cathartic at the moment, but an incredibly long lifetime of having to take care of someone trapped inside of a body they can’t control? Not worth it long term. Also, Gina, the offer still stands if you want rescue.”

Harper lightly nips Josie on her shoulder. She mumbles the next complaint with sexy girl deltoid in her mouth.

“I can not help but feel somewhat bad for the host. At the end here she basically turned into a drooling moron. It is hard to feel any catharsis from bullying a mentally handicapped individual, no matter how evil.”

“Why, Harper, are you bringing up...”

“Shush. Spoilers. Had to do it once.”

“But why the fuck is Tina so psychopathic? She got to have the biggest body count of a Harem Hotel contestant by now!”

“I’m going to say that Tina was more panicking then psychopathic there. The Army Reapers literally fired off tank shells at the building she was in and came into the room guns a’blazin’, literally shooting through a closed door to kill the occupants indiscriminately. They didn’t even notice the sissy bunnies until several of them were already dead. And that officer shot her point blank in the head while she was magically disguised as a stereotypical housewife. If you were in that situation and you knew Fireball, you’d cast it in self-defense. What she did to those gangsters with the TF gun was more beyond the pale, in my eyes.”

Josie, between groans as Harper curls her fingers just so, snarls, “I’m still annoyed about how you felt about my challenge submission, now that the gooners brought it up.”

Harper chooses to slip a second finger into her wolf-girlfriend in response instead of addressing that old fight. “As far as the body count thing goes, there are at least a couple of seasons you two can access where the contestants literally finished up a war against their realm’s Dark Lord, and at least one of those seasons may end up being as punchy as ours. Still, Tina would have had the biggest body count on the show, at least so far. Spoilers.”

“Calm yourself Gina, This fanmail chapter is very brief.”

“Oh, you’re right. Phew. Thank fuck this season is so unpopular.”

“Uhm, actually,” Harper notes, deadpan, “We were replying to fan-mail we sent. That was not a fan-mail chapter. We still kind of started a trend with that. Look forward to more fan-mail reply chapters in your future, ladies.”

“Also, those sent back gifts were the closest thing to fan-mail presents we ever got,” Josie grouses through her quivering. “Fan-mail sucks because we put in a lot of thought and effort, generally, in writing it and nobody bothered to give us the same effort back. Ungrateful bitches. There is a reason why I stopped trying.”

“It’s like that. These guys are way too easygoing in the face of everything. Must be all that dungeon shit they are doing. It desensitized people from violence.”

“Does Gina realize that the dungeon stuff was all video game fake?” Josie grunts.

“Possibly. They certainly missed the cultural differences between our original world and theirs. You can argue that we were already desensitized to violence to some extent, given our world treated military service as a moral obligation for all able-bodied men. Magic removing consequences certainly didn’t help that tendency.”

“Most of the contestants have a dreadful lack of unique personalities, to the point that even now over a hundred chapters in I struggle to keep them apart.”

“Marcie is bad at reading comprehension. There were plenty of squabbles and disagreements in the week that showcased some unique perspectives. They all have distinct tastes and preferences. She must have been looking for the next weird ratfink fetish scene to jill off to instead. Finally, we get to Best Girl, Worst Girl and the end of the review.”

“Who’d they pick?”

“Marcie refused to pick, because, again, poor reading comprehension. Gina picked the hag as worst girl.”

Josie pants, “Makes sense.”

“And me as Best Girl.”

“Not me?”

A third finger slips into Josie. A thumb rubs little circles around her love button. “She liked how I took charge.” Josie whimpers in need. Harper kisses her and Josie comes undone.

“So,” Josie pants as she comes back to reality, “do we get to do Best Girl, Worst Girl, like the Fish made me do when we reviewed Shar’s season?”

Harper shrugs, “Sure, if you want. Gina Best Girl, Marcie Worst Girl?”

“Obviously.”

“Gina is the heart, soul, and probably brains of the ‘Gina and Marcie Read CHYOA’ brand; yes, that is how I’m going to refer to it from now on. It took a couple of reviews, but I think I figured out a working theory about why I don’t particularly like the so-called ‘Empress of the Storm Empire.’ She’s the hag with a better luck stat.”

Josie snorts. “What? Really? Marcie wears seersucker suits and masturbates to Matlock?”

Harper shrugs, “Maybe? I don’t know what she does when Gina, Marel, and Cutie are too busy to entertain her. But, seriously, Marcie thinks herself much smarter than she actually is. She enjoys cruelty and humiliation for its own sake. She’s abusive to everyone around her. She even sympathized with the hag, as I have already noted. Sound familiar?”

Josie cocks her head to the side. “And the luck stat improvement?”

“She was born in a dimension created by Ora.”

“The weird penguin girl?”

Harper hesitates, but relents, “The same. Marcie found herself able to command the leader of a school gang full of gangs, then used dumb luck to conquer the school. She found a boy and got him ‘rich’ through more dumb luck. She turned the boy’s riches and his submissive nature into a sham marriage and a business empire, again through more dumb luck. In any sensible world, Marcie would be chained up by Marel and milked for illegal yakuza dairy products.”

Josie muses, “Would special edition protein powder made from Marcie milk sell?”

Harper shrugs. “That’s likely a Glitterdust question.”

“Fair enough. So, Round 3?”

Harper leans in to kiss her wolf-girlfriend, only to say, “Whelp, got to go deal with something that is about to happen. Give me an hour?”

Harper teleports away. Her tablet fires off a notification. Josie reads the message banner off of the lock screen, muttering as she starts to masturbate, “Stupid Hotel shit.”