The Bedroom Broadcast

The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, and Jason stepped forward, Jocelyn drifting in behind him.

The room waiting beyond was vast, easily larger than the combined space of several of the girls’ suites, yet strangely empty. Massive windows dominated the far wall, stretching from floor to ceiling and opening out onto a balcony overlooking the courtyard below. Pale moonlight spilled across polished flooring, pooling in the empty space.

But that was all there was.

No furniture beyond a single large grey bed placed awkwardly near the window, a small twenty-inch television mounted opposite it, and several faintly glowing holographic doorways lining the walls.

For something called a penthouse suite… it felt wrong.

Jason rubbed the back of his neck, unsure what reaction was expected of him. Compared to the tiny apartment room he’d spent years in, this place was undeniably impressive… but compared to the girls’ rooms, each filled with unique personality, this felt almost sterile.

“Welcome to the Master’s penthouse suite! And given that you are the master, that would make this your penthouse suite.”

Jocelyn tipped her hat and bowed theatrically toward him.

“I do hope everything is to your liking.”

“Ah, eh, uh… it’s… nice?”

“Nice?” Jocelyn repeated, her head snapping up.

The word left his mouth before he could think of something better, and even as he said it, he regretted it. Nice? really?

“It’s just nice!? You receive a penthouse suite all to yourself, and the best you can muster is nice?”

Jason froze.

The sudden sharpness in her voice hit him like a slap, and for a brief moment he couldn’t breathe. Had he offended her? Was there something he was supposed to say? The air in the room felt heavier now, the silence stretching uncomfortably as he scrambled for a response that wouldn’t somehow make things worse.

The only sound he managed was a weak, cracked croak.

Jocelyn stared at him for another heartbeat.

Then she grabbed her sides and doubled over, bursting into laughter.

Uncontrollable, exaggerated laughter. She rolled in midair; it's a wonder her hat wasn’t tipping off as she waved her tail wildly behind her. She wiped a tear from the corner of her eye and tried to speak again.

“Oh-hohoho—oh my gosh, you should—ahah~ you should see the look on your face!”

Jason let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

His shoulders loosened, and he gave a hesitant laugh of his own, though his chest still felt tight. The sudden shift left him dizzy, like stepping off a ledge only to discover the ground had been an inch below his foot the whole time.

“Yeah, this room is rather dull currently,” Jocelyn continued, floating upright again as if nothing had happened. “But do not worry, dear boy. Much like the rest of the hotel, this place will expand and improve with every VP milestone your beloved harem reaches, so do not hold back!”

Jason glanced around the space again.

“So… uhm… what kind of ‘improvements’ are there?”

“Oh?” Jocelyn tilted her head, a sly smile creeping across her face. “Thinking about making the moves so soon? It seems I may have underestimated you.”

“Well, uh… I was just—”

“Buh buh buh, no need to explain yourself, Jay.” She giggled, tapping the brim of her hat. “A young man such as yourself should never feel ashamed of his natural instincts after all.”

Jason opened his mouth, then closed it again. Somehow, he got the distinct feeling that no matter what he said next, she’d twist it into something for her own amusement, so he stayed quiet.

“But,” Jocelyn continued lightly, “if you are curious, I can show a few small teasers of things to come… provided you play nice and treat your girls well.”

She lifted her cane and flicked it toward one of the holographic doors. The translucent panel shimmered, solidifying as it swung open with a gentle creak. Beyond it lay a kitchen — bright, modern, and immaculate. Smooth stone counters caught the soft light, polished appliances sat perfectly arranged along the walls, and a large island dominated the center.

Jocelyn turned and gestured towards the television, suddenly the tiny box on the wall stretched outward, expanding until it dominated nearly the entire side of the room. Jason’s jaw slackened. He didn’t think he had ever seen a screen that large outside a theater, and even that comparison felt lacking. Shelves appeared along the walls beside it, filled with neat rows of DVDs whose titles he couldn’t quite make out from here.

Another flick, another door.

A private cinema appeared beyond, tiered seating descending toward a glowing screen, dim ambient lighting tracing the steps like stars in miniature.

Another — a brief glimpse of warm wooden paneling, soft steam curling through the opening, the low glow of heated stones revealing some kind of sauna.

“All of this could be yours… and more… if you play your part, master...”

The last word dripped from her tongue like honey.

Jocelyn drifted backward and lowered herself onto the bed, propping herself up on her elbows. She angled slightly toward him, chin resting in her hands, her posture deliberately posed so her cleavage was pointed directly towards him as she lazily flicked her tail around behind her.

“So… what d’ya think?”

Jason blinked rapidly, trying to process both the impossible room shifting around him and the equally distracting sight of Jocelyn lounging across what was apparently now his bed.

“W-Wow…”

“Now that’s more like it!”

She popped upright instantly and slammed her cane down. Every manifested doorway snapped shut at once before dissolving back into their pale holographic outlines, and the massive television shrank away like a mirage fading in the heat.

“Now,” she said brightly while dusting her sleeves off, “I think that’s enough excitement for today, don’t you?”

“Uh— I guess…?” Jason replied, still staring at the empty wall where the gigantic television set once occupied.

“So how about you start readying yourself for bed? It’s a big day tomorrow, you know.” She smiled wider. “Your first double date~.”

“Oh. Right… yeah… that…”

Jason rubbed the back of his neck. He hadn’t even had time to think about that yet. The sheer amount he’d been dragged through today left his thoughts feeling distant and unfocused.

“Don’t try to sound too excited now, darlin’,” she teased. “And- oops, almost forgot.”

She tapped her cane lightly against the floor.

A large mirrored wardrobe appeared in the corner with a soft poof, its polished doors reflected the dimly lit room back at them.

“Here you will find all your regular clothes and sleepwear,” she explained, gesturing lazily toward it, “as well as all the little trinkets you arrived with. So make yourself comfortable and get a good night’s rest.”

Her tone sharpened just slightly at the end.

“There is mandatory attendance at nine a.m. sharp in the main hall.”

A pleasant smile returned immediately.

“Don’t be late.”

Before Jason could respond, she slammed the cane down once more, a small explosion rang in his ears and his vision was taken over by a large puff of smoke before it dissipated entirely.

He stood there for a moment, staring at the empty space she’d occupied, the silence settling heavier without her constant motion filling it. Then he shook his head, exhaled slowly, and finally made his way toward the wardrobe.

Elsewhere in the hotel, far removed from the hollow calm of the penthouse, a door opened into a far smaller room.

Jocelyn drifted inside without ceremony, letting it close behind her with a soft click that echoed faintly in the otherwise still space. The room was modest compared to everything she had spent the evening showing off: a simple desk, a high-backed chair, and walls almost entirely bare save for a piece of paper pinned to the wall, though its contents couldn’t be made out in the dark.

She let herself sink into the chair.

For a long moment, she did nothing at all, simply staring ahead at the blank wall as though she had forgotten why she came in. The cheerfulness she carried so effortlessly before others faded from her posture, her shoulders lowering slightly, the brim of her hat casting a shadow across her eyes.

“…What an exhausting day,” she murmured to no one.

Silence lingered another few seconds before she leaned forward again, fingers curling around the handle of her cane and drawing it back into her grip. The energy returned in small pieces.

“Right then,” she said softly, tapping the tip against the floor.

“Let’s see how this lot are doing…”

She pointed the cane toward the wall.

A wide screen flickered into existence, static crawling across its surface before an image stabilized. At first, it appeared to be little more than a flat greyscale blur with a single dot of orange pulsing faintly at the center, but the image sharpened as the camera focused.

Cassandra lay sprawled across the bed, sleeping on her back, her mouth slightly open as an impressively loud snore rattled from her chest. The orange glow marked her among the monochrome surroundings, isolating her from the washed-out tones of the room like a highlighted subject in some form of strange study.

The view pulled back further.

Beside the bed, Eleanor knelt with her hands interlaced, head bowed gently as though in prayer, her expression calm and composed even in the dead of night.

Jocelyn watched for all of two seconds.

“Booring,” she sighed, flicking the cane lightly to the side.

The image slid away, already replaced as she moved on to the next contestant.

The next image replaced the first with a soft flicker.

Another bedroom came into focus, this one warmer in tone. Mika sat upright against the headboard in her sleepwear, tail curled loosely around her leg as she held a book close to her face, eyes carefully scanning each line with quiet concentration. Every so often, her ears twitched slightly, but otherwise she remained perfectly still.

Jocelyn watched for a second.

“…Boring again,” she muttered, already flicking her cane to the side.

The screen changed.

Blue tile walls appeared, slightly fogged over, and the faint sound of heavy breathing carried through the air before the picture fully clarified.

“Oh fuck, I have missed this…”

The image sharpened to reveal Babs.

Naked.

She was in the shower, entirely unaware of her audience as she pleasured herself with single-minded focus. One hand kneaded her breast while the other moved insistently between her legs, fingers working in a steady rhythm. She gasped and grabbed the shower rail as her knees began to weaken beneath her.

“Hnnngghh– oh ffffuck, that’s the spot.”

Jocelyn’s eyes widened immediately.

“Oh– this is good!” she snapped, leaning forward in her chair and jabbing her cane toward the screen. “Quick, quick, get a better angle!”

The view shifted behind her, the framing adjusting to capture the tension rippling through her back and thighs, the motion of her bouncing chest, and the firm curve of her hips as she moved.

“Yes! That’s the money shot!” Jocelyn clapped, delighted. “I cannot believe we’re getting footage this good on day zero. There’s no way this doesn’t pull some viewers away from Lucian’s challenge kickoff.”

She settled back slightly, still grinning at the screen.

“Anybody else doing anything exciting?”

She flicked her cane again, and the image slid away, replaced by another room. This time, it showed Esme lying comfortably across her bed, a book propped open in her hands, while Sylvie lingered anxiously near the bathroom door. Both were already dressed for the night — Esme in a purple silk set that caught the soft lamplight with every small movement, the fabric stretched snug across her chest, and Sylvie in a modest white nightgown that fell neatly to her knees.

“Uhm… how does it fit?” Sylvie shouted toward the bathroom, though her idea of ‘shouting’ was what normal people would probably consider the tone of polite conversation.

She shifted her weight from foot to foot, fingers twisting together in front of her.

“I hope it’s not too tight…”

From behind the door came a strained reply.

“It’s– ugh– alright… a bit short and tight around the chest, but there’s plenty of room around my hips.”

The screen changed again.

Now April stood in the bathroom, the bright overhead light doing her no favors as she examined herself in the mirror with visible annoyance. She tugged at the hem of a nightgown identical to Sylvie’s, pulling it down as if sheer persistence alone might convince the fabric to cooperate. Her cheeks were flushed, whether from the warmth of the room or irritation was difficult to tell, and she let out a small huff before trying again, smoothing the sides and turning slightly to judge the fit from every angle.

Jocelyn watched with quiet interest, her grin slowly returning as she leaned back in her chair.

“Oooh, even more good television, do make sure to get a full three-sixty on that,” Jocelyn said, lazily circling her cane toward the screen.

The image obediently rotated around April as she continued fussing with the hem of the nightgown, capturing her from every angle before Jocelyn lost interest and flicked the channel again.

This time, it did not return to the girls.

Jason appeared.

He was already changed into his sleepwear — a pair of striped green shorts and a loose white T-shirt — but he looked anything but comfortable. He sat at the edge of the bed, elbows planted firmly on his knees, head buried in his hands. One foot bounced relentlessly against the floor, the repetitive motion carrying the unmistakable rhythm of someone trying and failing to quiet their thoughts.

Jocelyn watched for a moment, her expression flattening.

“Ah,” she sighed, waving her cane dismissively, “well, that’s no fun. Let’s keep the footage focused on the girls for now…”

Knock. Knock.

The sharp sound echoed through the room, far louder than seemed necessary.

Jocelyn flicked her cane, the screen collapsing into static and vanishing instantly, before she raised her voice toward the door.

“Come in!”

The door slammed open hard enough to strike the wall beside it with a crack.

Lyn marched inside carrying a small stack of letters held carefully in one hand, in the other she held multiple gift bags, and stacked on her head was a large, neatly presented gift basket.

“Mail!”