Chapter 13 by 4og8zzjkc

So, Contestant Tour Done? How About Mona's?

Tour Part 3: The Mistress Suite

Mona

Alright, I am never getting Bobcafe again.

Mona just finished what was quite possibly the weirdest, scariest conversation in her life. She listened to Jenny the Coffee Table’s story, how she went from a budding model serving as a cashier at a local coffee shop waiting for her big break to an ugly duckling of a woman in her boss’s harem to a fucking coffee table (for fucking). How her harem master left her in the game room of his mansion, ignored and unloved, to be used as a sex object by house guests and pool boys. How Tyalangan rescued her and ensured she’d never be ignored again. How much Jenny likes 98 Degrees.

Now, they are heading back to the Hotel. Mona can’t help but ask, “What happens with Jenny now?”

Tyalangan responds, giving little scritches to the fox familiar on her shoulder, “It is the responsibility of the Master or Mistress to take care of all of their charges, even the eliminated ones. None of us are perfect about it, but Bob went too far. He was punished for it. Jenny is under my protection for now. I will ensure she is taken care of. A few of mine have telepathy, whether natural or magical. We talk with her, keep her comfortable, play way too many boy band songs for her.”

“You said you weren’t perfect. What’s your failure?”

The question looks like it hurt, that hauntingly beautiful face twisted into a pained wince. The Host answers anyways, “Several, actually. Letting Vix get to the point where she earned elimination. Letting the fallout from Vix’s actions and desiring a quick fix solution to a problem lead to a runaway contestant situation. My continuing struggles with one of my companions that, even a century later, is still not completely resolved. Don’t ask.”

Mona lets the quiet sit for a while as the Host starts to lead her upstairs. She barely gets to rest as the floors are merely introduced. The second floor for activities (Some of them sounds neat). The third floor for teleportation (Why are we walking then?). The fourth for the contestants rooms (What’s with the snooty old people music?). Then, the fifth, final floor: the penthouse Mistress Suite. The entrance has a hallway of empty plinths, a purple runner between them directing the viewer towards the heavy looking double doors. Stain glass windows display scenes of magical girls frolicking, just like Mona’s throne. The light shining through them creates a kaleidoscope of color across the room. The room is comfortably cool, which really helps because Mona has not climbed five floors of stairs at once before. The gross sweaty feeling she has really emphasizes that she should shower more than once every other week. Don’t be a Bob; be better, Mona.

“Those doors will only open for you or your date for the evening. If Staff needs to get in, we have our own ways. The fast travel system will only bring someone to this room, not inside. Make sense?”

Mona nods, still a little winded. Tyalangan beckons Mona to open the door. Mona strides forward and it is… soooooo… HEAVY!!!!!!!! She groans as she struggles against it. It budges open, just a crack. Then, the Host grabs the other door and opens it wide.

“You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”

“What?”

“Make the door super heavy.”

“Could be worse.”

“That’s the best you can say? Could be worse?”

“Ask one of mine about the gimmick to my suite when we were kidnapped by interdimensional smut peddlers.”

Resolving to do just that, Mona enters her suite. And she is awed by what she sees. The foyer is an almost exact replica of the guild house her Magical Cuties Go Go Cutie Clan poured so many virtual fortunes into. The stained glass depictions of the key guild members (except they are all now Mona’s main and alts). The pink stucco walls with cherry wood accents. The cherry wood floors. The matching long bench tables with cute little pink centerpiece bouquets by a lovely roaring fire. Open archways leading to different rooms. The smell of flowers and stale beer and sweat and love juices that Mona imagines would permeate the guild house. There even are the tentacle statues. The statues smell weird up close, fishy and oily at the same time. Mona swears they moved when she turned around. She has to ask, “Do they work like in-game?”

“You want to find out?”

Mona thinks. “Maybe later.”

“Good choice.”

Tyalangan moves deeper into the suite. The next room seems like a more typical living room, though matching the aesthetic. Pink couches arranged in a horseshoe shape, with the cutest end tables Mona has ever seen. The wall the horseshoe opens to is painted white, which clashes with the rest of the interior. What? That seems like an oversight.

Tyalangan picks up a television remote and points it behind the couches. A projector lowers and warms up, displaying what looks to be a knockoff of Blockbuster Live?

Tossing the remote to Mona, the Host explains, “As part of your participation, you get a lifetime premium subscription to Harem Hotel Hereafter, one of the many iterations of how the show is broadcast to the wider multiverse. I included the livestream package for this season. So, if you want to watch yourself watch TV, you can. You want to perv over everyone else here, you can. You want to watch other seasons to see how good you got it, you can. You want to start a thread war on the Harem Hotel Hereafter forum, you can. But, enough of that.”

Tyalangan directs Mona to the wall behind the couches. There is a digital calendar screen and the promised bounty board. “The calendar first. This is your harem’s schedule. You do have a phone app that will allow you to access the schedule, too, so you aren’t limited to only mess with it here...”

“Phone?”

“Yes, you have a phone. It’s with your welcome goodie bag. While you can schedule events for other members of your harem, I would primarily focus on yourself. You’ll see that only the morning meetings and dates are on the board. The more time you spend hiding up here, the harder it will be for your harem to come together. So, fill your time wisely.”

Mona is curious. “I can schedule events?”

“Yes. You can spend BP to buy training sessions or other premium activities. You alone can gift those activities to one of the others. In fact, all of them have a weekly bounty for successfully completing a training session. You buy the session for them, it’s like giving them free money.”

That draws Mona’s attention to the bounty board. The bounties are separated into dailies and weeklies (like in Magical Cuties Go Go). Mona is detecting a theme that she doesn’t particularly like with the dailies:

10 BP – Follow your diet plan
+10 BP – ...even during your date
5 BP – Take a 30 minute walk
+5 BP – ...and hit 5000 steps
+10 BP – ...and always take the stairs instead of teleporting around like a bum
5 BP – Follow basic hygiene rules
+5 BP – ...and dress nice for your date
+10 BP – …and do your hair and makeup

Despite knowing better, Mona blurts out, “That is a lot of bullshit.”

That earns Mona an angry look from the Host. “Not really, Mona. Look, even you will admit that you have not been doing great living as you had. You do realize you were about a couple of years away from a type II diabetes mellitus diagnosis without the Standard Package, right? And about a decade away from a serious heart condition? You have six other souls depending on you. Act like it.”

The shuts up Mona’s continued complaints. The weeklies look less offensive, in general:

50 BP – Limit video game play to no more than an hour a day, outside of interactive date activities (couch co-op is fine, sitting alone at a computer is not)
100 BP – Spend one-on-one time with every contestant outside of your dates
100 BP – Make sure every contestant successfully completes a training session
150 BP – Make sure every contestant successfully reaches Level 1
150 BP – Do not have an orgasm without another contestant there to participate or witness it.
+150 BP – ...And do not waste a first-time bonus on a sex act without sufficient intent to warrant XP allocation.

That first one, I don’t like, but I get it. The middle ones are fine. The last one...

“What does that last one mean? I can’t jill off? You realize how horny I am right? And what’s the deal with that I guess optional goal?”

Tyalangan states, deadpan, “I can point you to a couple of seasons where the first transformation done to the Master was to deny him the ability to cum while masturbating. Trust me when I say that you will have real sex so often that you won’t miss it by the time the season is done. I am merely trying to reward you for stuff you should already be doing. The first-time bonus thing is a trickier bit. So, there is a points multiplier for the contestant that gives you a ‘first,’ like a first kiss. If they do the act without sufficient affection behind it, they don’t get the XP and the multiplier is wasted. So, you decide to mindlessly have sex, you really hurt their chances to get enough XP.”

Oh. I have to make sure they like me before I have sexy times? Fuck.

“I am on hard mode, aren’t I?”

The Host just chuckles. She then directs Mona to look at the shelves of game consoles. Mona is a member of the PC Master Race, so she wants to scoff, but she remembers that first weekly. Might be useful to have some game options I can play with the others.

Tyalangan then leads Mona back through the guild hall lobby to a side room. Dominating the space is a personal pool with a terrifying water slide (I mean, who puts a vertical loop in a water slide???). To the side, a Jacuzzi big enough for four, more if everyone squeezes in. To another side, a selection of exercise equipment: a treadmill, an elliptical bike, some free weights.

“Exercise room. Treadmill over there has a timer, if you want to walk in place for 30 minutes. We can switch out equipment if you decide you want to work out differently. Our gym coach can also be scheduled for personal training sessions here, if you prefer. Or, you could have them at the gym proper with or without other contestants. Again, you need to take better care of yourself. Questions?”

“The gym coach hot?”

“You tell me. You subscribed to her Insta-Thot account.”

Mona drools over being able to see those abs in person as she is led to another room. This one is filled with books. Lame.

“A small selection from the library downstairs. Some helpful for you. Some helpful for your contestants, some smut. You can request additional books down there, if you wish.”

“Did you just say some of the books are smut?”

Tyalangan holds up a book, Fahrenheit 751: The Temperature Where Panties Burn. Mona snorts. That book sounds way better than the version I read the Crag Notes on in school!

“You can explore in your own time. Moving on.”

The next stop is a bedroom. A gorgeous bedroom with that big 4-poster canopy bed Mona always wanted but her parents would never get her; they said she was too soft already sleeping on a western style mattress instead of a yo and ondol. A wardrobe with so many different styles of clothes it makes Mona’s head spin. A loveseat by a crackling fireplace, with a goodie bag sitting there. Mona runs to it, finding a cute pink-cased phone, a book as thick as her leg entitled “Da Rulez!”, some free item coupons for various local businesses, and a fitness tracker watch.

Ignoring everything but the phone at the moment, the apps are kinda bland. No games. No App Store for adding games. It has a calendar scheduling app, a map app with a contestant tracker (for example, Gaia is currently at a place called the Bazongas Delgado Memorial Botanical Garden), a status app that currently displays all of the voting options for the contestants, and a text messaging app. Mona also sees that she could use the phone as an actual phone, but what kind of weirdo likes calling people?

“A few final things, Mona, and I will let you finish your survey of the suite without me. There is a kitchen and a bathroom. Hopefully, everything is reasonably self-explanatory, so long as you remember that the answer is usually ‘magic.’ The bounty boards don’t start until tomorrow morning, so enjoy this last night of relative normalcy. As much as I want you to develop your relationships with the others, I ask that you remain up here tonight. They need to adjust to their new circumstances. You won’t be up here alone. I can leave Vix up here to keep you company if you wish, and your room has a maid.”

“If Vix wants to stay up here, she can. And I have a maid? Ooooh, is she a catgirl? I really want a catgirl maid!”

Tyalangan looks at her fox, who hops down and rubs into Mona’s shins. Mona gives the pervert turned familiar a head pat. Despite the situation, she is soooo cute!

“Ophelia!”

A new voice, less melodic but just as strong, exclaims with sarcastic bite, “Yes, my Queen?”

The woman behind the voice looks like a shorter, snarkier version of the Host. Beautiful face, currently twisted with a sneer. Aquamarine skin and sea foam green hair. Visible gill slits on the neck. Hourglass figure, barely concealed by a maid’s outfit. She pays Mona only the barest of glances.

The Host, looking a little hurt, sighs, “Mona, meet Ophelia, my daughter and your maid during your time here. Ophelia, the Mistress for the season.”

“Oh, thank you, my Queen, I would not have figured that out without your help.”

“Do you have to be like this, Ophie?”

This Ophelia lays the sarcasm down thicker, “Whatever do you mean, my Queen? I am being very respectful in everything I say and do.”

Tyalangan sighs, then shakes her head. “Ophelia, play nice. You too, Vix. I will see you at 9 AM tomorrow morning, Mona.” Then, with a snap, the Host dissipates into a fine mist.

The fox familiar looks up expectantly, wagging her twin tails. The younger blue elf pops out some snacks and offers them to the greedy pet. The three of them meander to the couches in the living room.

Ophelia breaks the silence as she splays out on one of the couches, “So, the Queen suckered you into this, huh?”

“Kinda? She asked me when I was in a horny dream.”

“Wanna annoy her tremendously by watching her season? She never lets us watch it.”

Mona, feeling more than a little horny, asks, “Is it worth gooning to?”

The maid’s blush is a navy blue, which is both unexpected and adorable. “Ah, from what I could tell from Mama Tina’s Insta-Thot feed, parts of it are. I would feel weird about it, though. They are my moms you’d be fingering yourself to.”

Oh. Good point. That is kind of gross. Still... “Then why’d you ask?”

“Purely to annoy the Queen.”

“Okay, might help me get a better grasp of this whole thing. But, can we watch some other season to get off first? Recommendations?”

The maid plops down on the sofa and pulls up the Harem Hotel Hereafter interface. “Oh, plenty. What are you in the mood for? Corruption with lots of ENF? Bondage and blow jobs on boats? Hipster lesbians in space? Ghost butts? Gonzo “dragon” worms? Philosophical musings concerning the principles of alchemy? Sister-fucking? Salamanders with praise kinks? ****? Potential ****? **** with femdom? **** with penguins?”