Holiday, o, a holiday, and the best one of the year

When Nick finally regained consciousness he realized that he was on a beach. He stared out at the waves stretching out as far as he could see. The water was such a bright blue it was almost green.

What the hell just happened? He tried to piece together his memory of the last few seconds, and then it all came flashing back to him. The doctor’s office. The pamphlet. Her talk about a holiday. This was the beach from the brochure! He whirled around to see a giant hotel looming over the sand, displaying two words on its side with large flashing letters.

HAREM HOTEL

Before he could begin to piece together what that meant, he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Someone else was here! He turned to see who it was and his jaw dropped. There, in the center of the beach, stood a makeshift stage, the improvised kind that could be taken down in an hour or two. Eight chairs sat in a semi-circle in front of it, with a bonfire pit in the middle. And atop that stage was a ninth chair, more ostentatious and tackily decorated than the others, practically throne-like in its obvious show of exaggerated classlessness. It looked to Nick like something you’d see in some skeevy frat house.

“Laaaadieess aaaaaanddd geeeeeenntleemeeeeen! May I present your Lord and Master for this season of Harem Hotel, Mr. Nick. Reeeeeeynoooooolds!” Boomed an all-too-familiar voice.

Standing in front of the large throne, leaning over the edge of the stage and balancing on an ornate wooden cane, was Dr. Sylvia River.

But she didn’t look like a doctor now, no.

The doctor’s stern bun had come loose, leaving her blonde hair to cascade in ripples down her back. Her glasses were gone, leaving her blue eyes to shine brilliantly, though their light lacked warmth in place of wicked malevolence. Her smile, which had so often given him solace, was replaced with a playful, but biting, sneer.

But her wardrobe was by far the biggest change. Gone were the pencil skirts and unbuttoned shirts. Sylvia’s new outfit looked like it had been ripped out of several history books and stitched together in a bizarre ensemble. For a bottom she wore a black minidress that looked like a cross between a leotard and a showgirl skirt from the 1950s. The skirt part cut out in the front while flaring out around her hips, and it bounced as she rocked on her high-heeled leather boots. The leotard was tight enough to make out her belly button, but just as it reached her chest it gave way to the second piece of her ensemble, a red suit jacket cut off so high that the crimson tie dangled past the hem. It hid her breasts from view while emphasizing them nicely, promoting a facade that would almost be respectable if seen from the chest up. Completing the strange look she was going for was a silk top hat that gave her the effect of a carnival barker, complete with her black cane.

Nick was at such a loss for words he just sputtered and stared dumbly.

“…Our master, ladies and gentlemen!” She proclaimed with a bow. Her gestures were theatrical and exaggerated, as if she were speaking to a grand crowd, but Nick couldn't see anyone else.

“Dr. River, what… what is all this?” He asked, looking around. “How did I get here, what-?”

She sighed and rolled her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose. Then she tapped the tip of her cane against the stage twice, and the world began to spin. Nick saw flashes of blue from the water, white from the sand, and red and black from the doctor’s outfit all blur together around him and suddenly he wasn’t standing anymore, he was sitting down.

In the massive throne. And standing over him was the doctor, wearing a smile he could only describe as cruel.

“Doctor-”

“No.” She shook her head. “Not this time. No more games my boy. Sylvia.”

Nick got the feeling that if he said the wrong thing now, bad things would happen. He had no idea what, but he was terrified of his doctor in a primal way, because he had absolutely no idea what the hell was going on!

How did he get here?! How did he end up in this chair?! The only explanations he had were magic and very intense psychedelics, and he couldn’t remember the doctor giving him anything to eat or drink.

So this must have been a dream. That was it. None of this was real, he was just imagining that he-

“Nope,” she cut him off, sticking the end of her cane in his face. He could see the hook of it curve around a clear orb filled with a swirling black substance. He was so entranced he nearly missed what she said next. “Not a dream.”

“Wait, what? Did you-”

“Read your mind? No. I could have, of course, but why bother? You’re so easy to read, my boy,” she smirked, shaking her head. She leaned back and casually twirled her cane through the air.

“No, but… this just doesn’t make sense,” he protested. “This has to be a dream. I’m dreaming. I fell asleep in my therapist’s office while staring at a pamphlet for a resort island, and now I’m dreaming that I’m there.”

Nick really needed to have a talk with his subconscious about his taste in outfits. If this was what his brain thought he wanted to see Dr. River wearing, he had more problems than he imagined.

“This would be so simple if I could just give you a good whack,” she sighed. “Sadly, the red tape when it comes to inflicting bodily harm on the master is a bitch and a half to deal with. And this is my first time hosting and I reeeaaaally don’t want to screw it up.”

“Wait… hosting? What are you talking about?” Nick asked. He knew dreams were usually confusing, but not this confusing.

“Again, you’re not dreaming,” Sylvia rolled her eyes, guessing his thoughts correctly again. “But yes. Hosting. Me. I’m the host. Not that lunatic bitch who came before me, no, it’s MY turn! Finally MY turn! Mwahaha- ah, fuck it, forgot. Gotta keep that part a secret.” She pantomimed zipping her lips shut and winked at Nick.

Then, she slammed the tip of her cane down and spun, turning to face the sea alongside him. She held up her cane with a flourish, as if displaying something.

Nick scanned the horizon but saw nothing. He turned to Sylvia, who looked just as confused as he did. She caught his eye and flinched, clearing her throat.

“Ah, yes, just… a pause for dramatic effect, that’s all,” she said. “Now then! May I show you…!”

She waved her cane a second time. Again, nothing happened.

Her cheeks puffed up and her eyes began to water in frustration. It was shocking to see such a gorgeous woman practically burst into tears like a child.

“Hey, uh…”

“Zip it!” She snapped, yanking off her top hat and digging around in it. She pulled out a crumpled sheet of paper and unfolded it.

“…Okay, so… to do that, I have to… and then… god, why does this stuff gotta be so complicated?! Uhum, so I… WAIT ARE WE STILL ROLLING?! STOP! STOP! CUT TO COMMERCIAL DAMN IT!” She wailed, waving her cane like she was trying to swat away invisible birds.

…Commercial? Nick looked around. He was starting to suspect that this may not have been a dream. Am I on TV or something?

“…Ah! There we go!” Sylvia sighed in relief, finding the passage she'd been looking for. “So I just gotta do… THIS!”

She slammed the end of her cane on the stage with a CRACK and the sky exploded in front of Nick. He nearly fell off his seat as words flashed up in the air in front of him, and suddenly he knew, this was DEFINITELY not a dream.

Off to the sideline, Sylvia sighed with relief. Besides working out a few technical problems, she’d also looked up how to adjust the perception filter so Nick would accept that this was actually happening. Sure, a season where the master thought everything was just a consequence-free dream would probably have a lot of steamy moments in it, but where was the drama?! The corruption?! The thrill of seeing a (moderately) good man be gradually more okay with doing things to beautiful women that should never be spoken of except in the darkest reaches of the internet?!

Plus, she’d probably get fired. No thank you.

Meanwhile, Nick was reading the pre-show announcement. Or more accurately, the info was being loaded into his brain.

“Welcome to Harem Hotel: Island Holiday Season!” The words read. Muted applause rang out around him as he said the words out loud.

“Harem Hotel?” Nick had no idea what that meant. He looked to Sylvia for clarification.

“That’s right,” she said, holding her head up high as if she hadn’t just made a major gaffe in front of the audience, her bosses, and her bosses’ bosses. “Harem Hotel! I told you didn’t I, my boy? It’s the perfect holiday retreat for a weary sort like you, so **** for the love of a woman.”

Nick didn’t like where this was going. His former therapist was eying him up like a juicy steak.

“What you see before you,” Sylvia waved her arm, “is an island resort. Warm, sandy beaches, cool blue waters, and a lovely little hotel,” she pointed at the large building sticking out like a sore thumb in the midst of the natural paradise surrounding it. “You'll find that it's filled with all the amenities you and your harem could want.”

There was that word again, harem. It wasn’t an unfamiliar word. One of his friends (until he’d fallen in love with her and they’d had a falling out, anyway) used to love watching anime about multiple pretty girls falling for one guy. He’d always tended to zone out while she gushed about them, but seeing that word here…

“The Place Where Your Fantasies Come True.”

The tagline on that brochure flashed through his head. If that was the truth, then…

“I’m going to get a harem?”

Sylvia blinked. “Well, you’re more perceptive than the average master, I’ll give you that. Yes, the goal of Harem Hotel is, in simple terms, to give you a harem. You’ll meet many beautiful women who will all compete for the right to become your harem queen. You’ll be bound to them, and they’ll be bound to you! Forever and ever and ever!”

The words “Happy Ending!” flashed in the sky alongside a cheesy firework graphic and spinning hearts.

Wow, the way she said it, it sounded amazing. Like a dream come true. Any man would want a harem of beautiful women fawning over them, especially one who could hardly remember the last time he had something even close to approaching romance.

Too bad Sylvia was lying through her teeth.

He didn’t need to be a psychiatrist like her (wait, was she even actually a psychiatrist?) to pick up on when someone was spouting bullshit. She had the demeanor of a used car salesman, and he smelled a lemon.

“What’s the catch?” He asked, narrowing his eyes. “Look, I believe you, this harem thing, yeah, I get it. And as we both know, my luck with the ladies hasn’t exactly been…”

“Existing?”

She smirked at his glare.

“No catch, none, not one!” She assured him with a thumbs up.

Nick crossed his arms and raised his eyebrow. He could wait.

“…Okay, fine. The catch is that all of this is being recorded. Well, I say recorded, but it’s more like livestreaming. Do you know what that is? It’s when-”

“I’m only 27! Yes, I know what livestreaming is!”

“Oh great! Well anyway, right now you can think of yourself as the star of your very own reality TV show. Think ‘The Bachelor’. I used my magical powers to bring you here! You’re the harem master, and the lovely young ladies who will be popping in any second now will be your harem. They’ll be competing through a series of games like on previous seasons, only this time- excuse me?”

Sylvia paused, and her eyes glazed over like she was staring at something Nick couldn’t see. Then she blinked and cleared her throat.

“Sorry about that my boy! The producers just said that I should keep the finer details of the competitions a secret for now, and wait until all the contestants have shown up. Don’t want to have to give this speech over and over again, after all!” She laughed.

Nick didn’t get the joke.

“All that you need to know right now is that the girls will be competing for placement in your harem. The higher they rank, the better their position, get it?”

“I-I guess so. And they’re really all okay with this? Being in a harem, I mean?”

“…Eh.”

And there it was. The twitch. The giveaway. Sylvia had averted her eyes momentarily, and confirmed what Nick suspected.

For all the talk she made about this being for his benefit and being just like “The Bachelor” and other reality television shows, the fact remained that she’d **** him here, and **** him into the position of “master”.

So why on Earth or wherever this was would he think that the girls in his harem would consent to being here any more than he had?

It was one thing to have beautiful women fawning over him. As much as he valued fidelity and loyalty to one’s partner, he couldn’t deny his carnal urges to be with multiple women, maybe even at the same time.

But those fantasies always involved consent. No way in whatever hell he was trapped in would he be a part of some sick game where women were **** to compete for their positions as his sex slaves.

“My ‘harem’, they didn’t agree to this, did they? You’re going to abduct them,” he growled.

“Um… well, that’s sort of… yes?”

“I’m not going to be a part of this!” Nick exclaimed, hopping to his feet. “All that time you spent analyzing me in our sessions together, what made you think I would EVER agree to something this sick?! You, you…!”

She knew more about him than anyone. He’d shared everything with Sylvia. The darkest moments of his past, the times he felt like ending his own life, and even, at her urging, his sexual fantasies.

Maybe that had been the plan all along. She’d been scouting him. Testing him. Waiting for the perfect opportunity to drag him here, and…

No way. He wasn’t playing along.

“I’m not about to-”

Sylvia raised her cane and time froze. Nick remained trapped halfway out of his seat, glaring furiously at her.

“Aargh, this is the worst!” Sylvia wailed, burying her face in her hands. Luckily she’d remembered this time to switch to the commercial break before her little screw-up. It wouldn’t get her out of hot water with the producers but at least the audience wouldn’t riot.

She scanned the paper. Because of the magic it had been enchanted with, the entire rulebook could be found on its one page. Okay, what did the manual say about difficult masters, let’s see… “Master Doesn’t Want to Leave the Room,” no… “Master Only into Being NTR’d,” gross… ah! “Master Refuses to Listen to Host”!

It was a very simple solution. Only two words, in fact.

“Convince Him.”

“THANKS FOR NOTHING, JERK!” She crumpled the paper into a ball and flung it into the sand. Okay, deep breaths, girl, deep breaths, you can do this. You were MADE for this. All you gotta do is make one virgin happy. Then you’re golden.

Who was she kidding? Everything was falling apart and she hadn’t even gotten to introduce any of the girls yet!

With a resigned sigh Sylvia tapped her cane, and reality unfroze.

“…Are absolutely, certifiably-”

“Yeah yeah yeah, blah blah blah. Look, Nick, we’re on a bit of a schedule here, okay?” Sylvia scowled, putting on the face of a tough and cool host. “Fine. You don’t want to abduct a bunch of hot girls and have them all compete in sexy contests for your love and affection. Can’t say I get it myself, but hey, we’ve all got our own kinks. But what I don’t think you’ve wrapped your brain around is the fact that you don’t have a choice.”

Sylvia poked him in the chest with her cane, and he felt himself being **** back down into his seat. Her inhuman strength left him stunned.

“Now then!” She planted her high-heeled boot on the chair, right smack between his legs. “Listen here my boy. YOU are the master of this harem. And this season WILL run. So you can whine and pout and bitch about your moral high ground and I. Won’t. Care. You’re trapped on an island. I brought you here with my fucking magic. There are no boats, no planes, you can’t Gilligan your way into a raft. There’s nowhere you can go, my boy, so you better just give up those thoughts of resistance right now. The more you struggle, the harder it’ll be on everybody, and I don’t think you want that.”

Nick glared up at her. Not so long ago, this woman had been the most trusted figure in his life. She’d been a symbol of hope and solace who had helped him get back on his feet and soothed his broken heart. She’d honestly made him believe that even a piece of trash like him who’d caused so much pain could hope to find happiness.

Now he couldn’t stand the sight of her.

“I’ll never give in,” he growled.

She gave him a cruel smile in return. “Then it looks like we have a game.” A difficult game for me, but a game nonetheless.

He couldn’t resist forever. No one ever had.

Sylvia took a step back and let him close his legs, turning to the front of the stage and the audience watching from their interdimensional viewing stations.

“Now then ladies and gentlemen, I apologize for the delay! But we’re back on track!”

She could see the comments flashing by, sharing exactly what they thought about this little situation.

“Boring season. Total L.”

“We did island resort already, do something new.”

“Still waiting for the Amazon Rainforest to be one.”

“Host is pretty lame too, ugly outfit.”

“Sylvia’s a cute host but she’s out of her depth lol.”

“Chad Master Nick vs. Virgin Host Sylvia”

“Loli host next time UwU”

“UwU seconded”

“Boobz”

“When we getting to girls”

“Screw the girls, I want a season of just those two”

“Sylvia sucks and master is boring. Passing this season…”

“Lol wtf bruh she’s a riot haven’t had a host fail this badly since that one time with the giant pineapple pizza”

“I hope she cries next time she messes up it’s always funny to see the hosts get screwed”

“Hah! Phrasing…”

“Do another Leah plz I need Sylvia in teh harem”

“Stop being mean guys the hosts are people too #HostLivesMatter”

“When are they gonna do scat?”

“Dude.”

“Dude.”

“Gross.”

“Mods, ban this guy.”

“Sylvia DM feet pics”

“Can we get to the girls? I’m bored.”

“YES! YES, the girls!” Sylvia was so fucking done with this season already. Why were the comments so mean?! And why did that one freak want pictures of her feet?! The GIRLS were supposed to be the eye candy, the GIRLS!

No way was her first season starting like this. This had to go PERFECTLY, or else. She shuddered at the thought of meeting her maker.

“Now, what you’ve all been waiting for!” Sylvia proclaimed, twirling her cane and trying her best not to let how rattled she was show on her face. “Our first contestant is…”