The Viewers Verdicts

All the girls were seated now, peering toward April. Even though everyone had been teleported here out of nowhere, her appearance still seemed to come as a surprise, even to Jocelyn, which left more than a few questions hanging in the air.

Jocelyn hovered back and forth at the front of the stage, pacing in her own way, her little wisp tail flicking rapidly behind her.

The row of stools had been extended by one. April sat at the very end, stiff and uncertain. She was in her new body now, which was immediately obvious—she was far less floaty than before.

Suddenly, Jocelyn’s pacing halted.

She zipped to centre stage and boomed in her announcer voice.

“Welcome, welcome! It’s been a long wait for everyone, and I know the audience at home has been waiting in sweet anticipation for this moment, so I’ll skip the chitter-chatter and get right to the main event!”

She spun and snapped her cane toward the lineup.

“First up, we have Mika!”

She beckoned her forward, flicking her cane lightly..

Mika blinked, clearly caught off guard. “Uh… me?”

“Come on over, Mika,” Jocelyn chimed. “I won’t bite!”

Mika hesitated, then awkwardly stood and walked over, craning her neck to look up at Jocelyn hovering above her.

“Now,” Jocelyn continued, “pretty little Mika here actually had one of the most highly contested votes of the entire round! Every single one of her options hit number one multiple times; it was so close we almost ended with a three-way tie!”

She clasped her hands dramatically.

“But alas… one option reigned supreme, beating out the competition by a single vote. Give it up for: Fox Spirit!”

Fox Spirit
Mika is dead but not gone, in other words, a spirit, just like a kitsune. Mika will gain a set of adorable fox ears and a big fluffy tail to match. Further spiritual transformations may cause additional tails to sprout and potentially cause more fox-like traits! [Traditional]

She pointed her cane toward Mika and gave it a flourish.

Mika blinked. “…Uh. Is something supposed to happen or—”

She convulsed forward suddenly.

Her lower back twitched violently, an intense, maddening itch blooming right at the base of her spine. She gasped and reached behind herself, trying to scratch through the thick fabric of her overalls, but it barely helped.

“Ah—ngh—!”

She shoved a hand inside the side of the garment, finally making contact with skin—and froze.

There was a large, prominent bump there. The source of the itch.

She scratched at it instinctively and moaned softly as relief washed over her, the sensation easing just enough to think. While she was distracted, something else began to change.

“Oh,” Jocelyn murmured. “That's… unexpected.”

Starting at the centre of Mika’s scalp, the colour of her hair began to shift. Black faded into a deep blue, almost raven-like, spreading outward in subtle waves. The texture softened too, strands becoming plush and fine, more like fur than human hair.

Mika sucked in a breath and yanked her hands free, lifting them to her head as an unfamiliar sensation bloomed there instead.

Two new protrusions pushed up through her hair.

They were far more sensitive than the bump on her back, sending strange, almost electric feelings through her skull as they grew. They pressed outward, softening as they formed, fur sprouting across them as they tapered to gentle points.

Mika gasped. The world suddenly sounded louder, clearer even.

She could hear the breathing of the others behind her. The subtle movement of air. Even her own heartbeat. When she twitched the new shapes atop her head, she heard the soft brushing of fur like it was happening inside her ears—

Because it was.

“…Ears?” she whispered.

Realization hit just as the itch in her back vanished completely.

Instead, she felt air against a place she’d never felt before.

Mika turned sharply and saw it: a small, fluffy protrusion pushing through the fabric of her overalls at the base of her spine. Dark blue fur spilled out as it lengthened steadily, stretching her skin and pulling at her posture.

She reached back and tugged at it.

“YIP!”

“Oh! You really must be more gentle with that thing,” Jocelyn scolded lightly.

Mika groaned as the sensation intensified, her spine contorting slightly as the appendage extended further, growing to nearly the length of her arm. The fur darkened toward the base, while the tip bloomed into a bright white point.

When it finally settled, Mika realized she could move it, like actually control this strange appendage; it was a weird sensation.

She experimentally flicked it, accidentally wafting herself in the face a few times before snapping it still. Her cheeks burned as she crossed her arms and faced forward again.

Mika’s ears twitched sharply; she heard Jason’s breath hitch and someone at the far end of the stools, April, she deduced, let out a quiet, startled inhale that even she hadn’t even noticed making.

This is going to take some serious getting used to.

she thought while adjusting her overalls to get her new tail comfortable.

“Now look at that,” Jocelyn beamed. “Isn’t she just adorable as a little fox girl?” She looked towards Jason, and he just gave an awkward smile in return. “I’m glad we agree!”

Jocelyn turned toward the invisible cameras and raised a finger.

“And for those of you upset that your number one option didn’t win, fret not, dearest viewers! Highly contested transformations will have a chance to return in future votes!”

She winked.

“After all… both runner-ups were very close.”

Jocelyn turned back to face Mika. “Alright now, Mika,” she said brightly, flicking her cane toward the stools. “Why don’t you go get seated? Try not to knock anything over with the new tail.”

Mika hesitated, gave her tail an awkward test flick, then nodded and shuffled back to her seat, very deliberately keeping her back straight. The ears on her head twitched as she sat down, drawing more than a few glances from the others.

Jocelyn clapped her hands once.

“And now!” she announced, spinning on the spot. “It’s time for our next transformation!”

Her cane snapped up and pointed straight at the biker lounging on her stool.

Babs huffed and pushed herself up from her stool, boots hitting the stage with heavy, deliberate steps as she stomped forward. She crossed her arms and glared up at Jocelyn.

“Barbara, oh Barbara, baby,” Jocelyn crooned. “How’ve things been treating you, hmm? Were you hoping for frills and lace? Maybe a nice twirl in a pretty little dress?” She tilted her head. “Or perhaps becoming the apple of everyone’s eye was more intriguing to you?”

Babs rolled her eyes. “Just get on with it.”

Jocelyn laughed. “Straight to business, I like that.”

She flicked her cane and glanced at the screen.

“Well, I will say, your vote was the second most contested of the round, very impressive! You had people fighting in the chat over this one.” She smirked. “And while you did get the most votes overall…”

She paused.

“…I’m happy to announce that with thirty-six percent of the vote—” Jocelyn pointed her cane at the screen and it lit up brightly as a transformation popped up.

Girly girl
Much to her chagrin, Barbara will no longer feel comfortable in her boyish clothes, and instead will be at her most content when wearing frilly dresses and matching underwear. Will have the added bonus of lengthening her hair and encouraging her to wear it down. [Daddy’s girl]

Babs stiffened.

“Girly Girl has come in— second.”

A sigh of relief washed over Babs.

“Congratulations,” Jocelyn continued smoothly, giving a small golf clap as she spoke. “Who Needs Men takes first place with thirty-eight percent! I’m sure you’re thrilled.”

Who needs men?
In Amazonian tribes, lesbian relations were not only accepted but expected. Babs will now have the ability to be seen just as attractive to normally straight women as she is to lesbians and straight men. This will also boost her height by an inch, pushing her to six foot! [Amazon]

Babs blinked, and her eyes widened.

“…Wait—really?”

A grin spread across her face before she could stop it. A genuine one. She even shot Jocelyn a quick, surprised smile; something she clearly hadn’t meant to do.

Jocelyn waved her cane lazily toward Babs.

Babs frowned and glanced down at herself, patting her arms, her sides, her chest. “…Uh. What gives?”

“Oh, you’re all done, Barbara,” Jocelyn said cheerfully. “Go take your seat!”

Babs narrowed her eyes, suspicious, but turned and walked back toward the stools anyway.

Halfway there, she noticed them.

Mika’s tail flicked when Babs approached her seat, her eyes following Babs unconsciously as she passed.

She sat back down, legs spreading comfortably, but she didn’t miss the way a couple of the girls kept stealing glances at her.

Jocelyn clasped her hands together.

“But fret not, ‘Girly Girl’ fans, due to its popularity in this vote, it will be returning next week to give you another chance,” she gave a cheeky wink.

“And now!” Jocelyn sang. “Sylvie~ Pretty. Little. Sylvie.”

Sylvie flinched.

“Come on over here for me, will you?” Jocelyn added sweetly, curling a finger in invitation.

Sylvie hesitated, then nodded and made her way forward, hands clasped tightly in front of her.

“So,” Jocelyn said, floating down to eye level, “how are we feeling today?”

“U-um… o-okay?” Sylvie replied, voice small.

“And how are we feeling about these potential changes?”

“…Um. Okay.”

“Well, that’s just wonderful!” Jocelyn clapped. “Now—how would you feel knowing you won’t be ‘little Sylvie’ all the time anymore?”

Sylvie’s eyes lit up, for just a moment.

“…That’s okay,” she said, a little too quickly.

Jocelyn smiled wider.

“Because with fifty-five percent of the vote, BE Confident absolutely smashed the competition!” She threw her arms wide. “The other two options? A perfect tie!”

BE Confident
Sylvie just needs a little help getting into the swing of things. Every time she has the urge to pursue something but gives in to her anxiety, her breasts will grow, increasing her confidence; this will also have the side effect of making her slightly more aroused with each boost. [Introvert]

“Oh,” Sylvie said, fists clenching slightly in anticipation at her sides. “Okay.”

Jocelyn lifted her cane and froze, right as it seemed she was about to slam it back down.

Her smile faltered just a touch.

“…But,” she said slowly, “I don’t think that’s actually what our audience wants to see.”

Jason frowned. “What do you mean?”

“As host of this season of Harem Hotel,” Jocelyn said primly, wagging a finger, “I’m allowed a tiny veto. One little ‘nuh-uh’ per week where I get to shake things up a bit.” She shook her head.

“And this,” she said brightly, “is that moment. Nuh-uh~.” She gave an exaggerated wag of her finger.

Jason blinked. “Wait—so she gets nothing? That seems a little unfair to everyone else—”

“Oh no,” Jocelyn interrupted. “She’s getting something. Normally we’d bump her down to second, or maybe even third place…”

She tilted her head and began tapping her cheek with a pale blue digit.

“But since those two tied… why not just combine them?”

The screen flashed.

Self-Insert
Sylvie gains a strong urge to write sexy fanfics about the other girls. When she gives in, she takes on certain traits of the girl she writes about—from confidence to cup size. [Writer]

A large plus sign appeared.

Dear Dirty Diary
Every time Sylvie has a sexual thought, she feels compelled to write it down. At the end of the week, she must present her writing to the Master, earning BP based on how much she arouses him. [Repressed]

The two boxes began to blur as they moved towards each other, blending into one.

Character Development
Sylvie gains a strong urge to write her sexual thoughts about the other girls. As she does, she takes on certain characteristics of her subjects. At the end of each round, she must present her work to the Master, earning BP based on the intensity of her salacious tales. [Repressed+Writer]

“Oh,” Sylvie said softly. “…Okay.”

Jocelyn slammed her cane down, causing a ripple to cross the stage, and as it made contact with Sylvie its like it got absorbed completely by the small girl's form.

“Well? How are you feeling now?!”

Sylvie blinked. “Uh… okay?”

“Fantastic!” Jocelyn chirped. “Now be a dear and go get yourself seated, it’s time for the next contestant!”

“Um—okay!” Sylvie said quickly.

She hurried back to her stool and sat down stiffly. As she did, her gaze drifted toward Babs without meaning to. Her mind filled abruptly with vivid, dirty little scenes involving Babs and Jason, tangled and breathless, Babs pinning him to the—

The moment Sylvie realized what she was doing, she snapped her gaze to the floor, face burning.

“Next up!” Jocelyn sang. “Our resident goth: Esmerelda! Come on over, Esme~”

Esme rolled her eyes and pushed herself to her feet, trudging forward with her arms crossed tight.

“Much like little Sylvie,” Jocelyn continued sweetly, “your vote was very one-sided. Even more so, actually.” She flicked her cane toward the screen. “With over fifty-six percent of the vote, Stereotypes Exist for a Reason takes the win!”

Stereotypes Exist For A Reason
Esmerelda’s massive ass currently overshadows her modest bust. This transformation brings her closer to the classic BTGG bombshell stereotype—her breasts will swell until they become her most prominent feature. Her purple highlights and gothic makeup will also become permanent, with no need to reapply. [Goth]

Esme’s shoulders sagged. Her expression flattened, unimpressed and resigned.

“…Whatever.”

Jocelyn barely spared her a glance as she tapped the centre of Esme’s forehead with the cool metal tip of her cane.

Esme crossed her arms tighter, staring Jocelyn down in open defiance.

For exactly one second.

Then her breath hitched.

A sudden, spreading warmth bloomed across her chest, deep and heavy, stealing the air from her lungs. Her eyes rolled back despite herself as a sound slipped from her throat, a low groan turned into a high pitched moan.

She gasped and grabbed at her chest on instinct.

Jocelyn smirked as she watched.

The sensation intensified, radiating outward in slow, pulsing waves. It felt like pressure from within, a steady insistence that pushed and stretched and claimed space. Esme’s skin pulled taut, hypersensitive, every movement sending ripples of sensation through her torso.

It rolled outward in deeper waves, slow and merciless, each pulse leaving her more sensitive than the last. Esme sucked in a sharp breath, her shoulders hitching as the pressure inside her chest built, swelling with a steady, unyielding ****.

Her dress creaked faintly.

She felt it before she saw it, the fabric tightening, stretched thin as her body pressed insistently against it. Every breath made the sensation worse, her skin buzzing as if every nerve ending had been turned up too high all at once. She clenched her teeth, fingers digging into the fabric of her dress as it began to strain, the seams tugging as her figure swelled against it. Heat pooled low in her stomach, her thighs pressing together reflexively as the pleasure built in long, relentless surges.

“—hnn…” Esme bit down hard on the sound, but it still slipped out of her, breathy and involuntary.

Her hands trembled as she tried to keep them clenched at her sides, only to give in moments later, fingers sliding back to her chest again as if drawn there. The contact sent another wave through her, sharper this time, and she gasped as the pressure surged, fuller, heavier, hotter.

The room fell very quiet.

Jason had gone rigid in his seat, eyes fixed on her without meaning to be. Mika’s ears twitched, her gaze locked in place. Sylvie had both hands clenched in her lap, face burning trying her best not to think about how she could write about this. Babs was watching, brows knit in something between surprise and appreciation.

And for Esme, the pressure finally eased, not abruptly, but gradually, like a tide pulling back. The heat softened into a lingering warmth, her skin still buzzing with sensitivity, but no longer overwhelming.

Her dress loosened with a subtle ripple, reshaping itself effortlessly to her new proportions, settling as if it had always been meant to fit her this way.

Esme stood there, chest rising and falling, hands still pressed against herself.

It took her a moment to realize she’d gone quiet.

Her eyes snapped open.

She dropped her hands immediately, cheeks blazing as awareness crashed back in all at once.

Jocelyn floated closer, already fanning herself dramatically.

“My my, Esme,” she purred. “You certainly didn’t hold back, did you?”

Esme’s face burned hot. Before she could muster a response, a soft ding sounded in her head, and a small translucent box appeared at the corner of her vision. She could see it clearly without quite looking at it, like it existed just off to the side of her awareness.

Played with boobs in front of master +1VP
(+1GP)

She crossed her arms instinctively, but the new weight of her chest made the motion awkward. Her forearms failed to settle properly, and instead she just ended up jostling her new endowments clumsily before giving up with a frustrated huff.

Jocelyn clapped slowly; her mock applause echoed through the studio.

“Now that's how you put on a show Esme. Bravo. Really.”

“And if you wouldn’t mind,” Jocelyn added sweetly, flicking her cane toward the stools, “please take a seat.”

Esme turned and stalked back toward her place, chin lifted in defiance, but she couldn’t ignore the way each step made her breasts shift, the unfamiliar weight pulling and bouncing just enough to draw attention back to them. She felt it even if she refused to look, making her spine stiffen in an attempt to quell the heavy sway of her bust.

When she finally dropped back onto her stool, the movement made them jostle once more before settling, forcing her to adjust her posture with a quiet, irritated huff.

“And that’s that,” Jocelyn declared, twirling her cane with a flourish. “As for second place, Siren’s Call nabbed a respectable twenty-three percent of the vote and will be returning next week!” She winked exaggeratedly.

Siren’s Call
Esmerelda’s voice becomes an instrument of temptation. The softer and breathier she speaks, the more it affects those who hear it. When used at close range, say, a slow whisper in someone’s ear, it can induce intense arousal and, if sustained, even climax. [Seductress]

“Now then!” Jocelyn spun in place, cane snapping toward the remaining contestants. “Cassandra! Cassie. Cass-cass-Cassandra—oh, wow, Cassandra doesn’t even sound like a word anymore. No matter! Come on over, darling, let’s see what fate’s got in store for you!”

Cassandra rose smoothly from her stool and stepped forward, chin high, hands folded neatly behind her back. She looked unusually calm. Composed even.

Jocelyn flicked her cane, and the screen behind them lit up.

Building Heat
Hearing others speak untruths causes a small amount of pleasure for Cassandra. The more lies she hears, the more the sensation builds. Relief can only be found by speaking a truth herself—if delayed too long, the release may even be orgasmic. [???]

“And with forty percent of the vote,” Jocelyn announced brightly, “Building Heat takes the win!”

The cane snapped down, and Cassandra stiffened in place. Not dramatically, but enough that someone watching closely might notice the subtle tension in her shoulders.

Jocelyn tilted her head. “So,” she asked sweetly, “how are we feeling, Cassandra?”

Cassandra opened her mouth, then closed it again. Her lips pressed into a thin line.

“…Disappointed,” she said finally, voice strangely clipped and controlled. “I had hoped for your ‘audience’ to have more class.”

Jocelyn clasped her hands together sympathetically. “Aww. No cauldron this round. Tragic.”

Cassandra’s eyes flashed.

“Tragic?” she repeated sharply. “You dangle the promise of true arcane agency before me, parade it like a foregone conclusion, and then expect me to smile when it’s snatched away by the whims of an audience unseen?” She scoffed, tossing her hair back.

Jocelyn raised a brow.

“But,” Jocelyn added lightly, wagging a finger, “you’ll be pleased to hear it got just enough votes to return next week. So don’t lose hope yet, my little witch.”

“Good,” she responded, a sharp smile curling her lips. “Because destiny has a way of correcting itself. And when it does…” She turned on her heel. “I will be ready.”

She strode back to her seat, chin high, swaying with confidence.

“And finally!” Jocelyn announced, spinning dramatically. “Eleanor Whitmore! Please take your place,” she gestured in front of herself.

“Let’s just cut straight to the chase, this was the most dominant vote of the entire round. No contest.” She grinned. “With a whopping sixty percent of the vote… Rewind the Clock takes it!”

Rewind the clock
Eleanor will retain her mature curves and lived-in body, but will appear as if she aged flawlessly—no wrinkles, no sag, no aches. She will look like a woman who lived a gentle, stress-free life… even if that wasn’t the case. [MILF]

Eleanor exhaled slowly, shoulders dropping just a little. She didn’t smile, though she didn’t look displeased either.

Jocelyn raised her cane.

“Alright then. Let’s rewrite time.”

The cane snapped down.

A soft shimmer rolled over Eleanor’s body, subtle at first, like heat distortion in the air. Fine lines at the corners of her eyes eased, smoothing away as her skin tightened up, just enough to retain her mature appearance. The faint creases along her neck softened, posture straightening as years of tension quietly released its grip.

Her hair thickened beneath the light, strands growing fuller, brighter, the colour deepening into a richer, healthier shade. Even the dullness at the ends faded, replaced with a gentle sheen.

Her body shifted next. Her chest lifted slightly, settling higher with renewed firmness, though not overly perky. The gentle curve of her belly remained, but the sag eased, the shape drawing in just enough to feel younger. Nothing was erased, just refined.

Her hands tingled as the callouses she’d earned over years of work softened, skin smoothing into something supple and warm. The same sensation followed through her feet, the ache of age and wear dulling into a distant memory.

When the glow faded, Eleanor stood a little taller.

She looked down at herself, flexed her fingers once, then lifted her chin as she clasped her hands together.

“Looking wonderful, Eleanor. Truly!” Jocelyn chimed. “Now please, back to your seat.”

Eleanor nodded and walked back to the row of stools. She noticed it immediately: how light her steps felt. Her knees bent without creaking, her ankles moved smoothly, without that familiar, dull ache. It wasn’t as dramatic as some of the other girls' changes, but it was appreciated so much more.

She sat a little straighter than before.

“Now!” Jocelyn clapped once. “With everyone transformed, it’s time for the popularity poll!”

Jason frowned. “What about April?”

A few heads turned, nodding in agreement.

“Ah,” Jocelyn said lightly, “her vote started a bit late, so the results haven’t concluded just yet.”

“But you mentioned something about time dilation earlier?” Jason pressed.

“Well, yes,” Jocelyn replied, waving a hand. “But it’s not dilated quite that much, Jay. Now—popularity poll!”

She zapped the screen and the rankings appeared.

1. Sylvie Langford — 24%
   
2. Mika Tanaka — 18.4%
   
3. Esmerelda Medrano — 17.4%
   
4. Barbara Dalton — 16.2%
   
5. Eleanor Whitmore — 12.6%
   
6. Cassandra Byrne — 11.4%

“I—I’m first?” Sylvie whispered.

“Why yes, my dear!” Jocelyn beamed. “And not by a slim margin either! You held first place the entire time—no one else even came close!”

Sylvie stared at the screen, stunned. Her eyes shimmered as emotion crept up on her.

“…Wow.”

Across the row, Cassandra shot to her feet.

“Last?!” she snapped. “Last?! Your blasted audience had me placed last?”

The outburst startled the others.

“This is an insult Lady Cassandra will not stand for!” she declared, fists clenched. “First, they deny me my cauldron, and now they disgrace my name like this? Clearly, their taste is flawed.”

“Oh yes,” Jocelyn said agreeably. “I couldn’t agree more, Cassandra.”

“Ver—hngh—” Cassandra tensed suddenly, breath hitching for just a fraction of a second.

Jocelyn smiled innocently. “Truly, I cannot believe the audience ranked you so low.”

Another jolt ran through Cassandra, subtle but unrelenting.

“Just keep being yourself,” Jocelyn continued sweetly, “and I’m sure you’ll climb the ranks in no time!”

Cassandra stiffened again, another pulse, more intense than the last, her jaw began tightening as she **** herself to stay composed.

“…Enough,” she muttered, sinking back into her seat as realization finally clicked. Jocelyn was doing it on purpose.

__

Second…?

Mika stared at the rankings, utterly confused. What had she done to earn this much love from the audience? The thought left her with a strange, warm fullness in her chest, and without noticing, her tail began to wag slowly behind her.

Esme glanced over at the screen once, then looked away again. She gave no outward reaction at all, as if the numbers meant nothing.

Babs scowled. “Man… fourth? Really?” she muttered under her breath. She didn’t care much—obviously—but that didn’t stop the sting from settling in anyway.

Eleanor didn’t even look at the score.

“Anyway!” Jocelyn clapped briskly. “As mentioned earlier, all of you will be receiving Bonus Points relative to your ranking!”

The screen flashed again.

1. Sylvie Langford — 2400 BP
2. Mika Tanaka — 1840 BP
3. Esmerelda Medrano — 1740 BP
4. Barbara Dalton — 1620 BP
5. Eleanor Whitmore — 1260 BP
6. Cassandra Byrne — 1140 BP

Jason's expression twisted in confusion.

“But if everyone’s getting rewarded,” he asked, “what about April?”

April straightened slightly at the sound of her name. She’d been quiet this whole time, still a little dazed from everything she’d been through.

“She wasn’t here for the vote,” Jocelyn said brightly. “So she doesn’t get any rewards!”

Jason frowned. “That doesn’t seem very fair...”

“Well,” Jocelyn replied dryly, “it wasn’t very fair that I had to accommodate someone arriving unannounced, and yet—here we are.”

She turned toward the camera with a dazzling grin.

“April’s transformation, along with the harem's rooming arrangements, and the weekly schedule will all be discussed. after the break!"

"See you soon!"