Results part 1

— And we're back, ladies and gentlemen. It's been a long week of waiting, but I thank everyone who contributed to the program with their vote. Know that the Harem Hotel studio appreciates you.

— But not even a second passed, Matías spoke up, already suffering from many of the madness of that day. He didn't know how to react to this one.

Isabella snorted and made a dismissive hand gesture, as if dismissing it. — It's asymmetrical time, it's not something human brains can understand. Don't bother, master.

Everyone present looked at each other, wondering what the hell Isabella meant by that. They came to the conclusion that it would be best to ignore it. Instead, they focused on what was to come, the "transformations." They didn't fully understand it, but seeing the options and what Isabella was capable of, they feared for their safety.

For her part, the host took small steps of excitement, approaching the contestants. — This is exciting, the first time I'll be able to apply transformations, — she made an effort to regain her composure and seriousness. —As a reminder to new viewers, while the selected transformations are decided by a vote, I have the right to veto two of the results. Thanks to the primordial blood that is like this, some things are more fun than what you chose.— The attempt was a failure.

She moved toward Graciela, stalking her like a snake about to attack a mouse, and the baker noticed, shifting uncomfortably in her seat, looking around, at anyone but Isabella's eyes.

—Tell me, Grace, can you guess which transformation won?

—U-uh, Magical Baking?

Isabella giggled mischievously, —How naive, although I can't blame you for not knowing the nature of our viewers.

The redhead sat on Graciela's lap, making sure to press her back against the woman's breasts to get a good feel for them.

The poor victim was about to scream, but was stunned by the softness of the thing's skin and dress, supernaturally smooth; even through the layers of fabric, she could feel it, as illogical as it sounds.

—I'll tell you, my dear, the lowest-voted transformation was "Let Mommy Cut It". Unfortunately for your master, he won't be enjoying your services. But something much better won: "The Secret Is in the Milk."— She turned around, still on her lap, and squeezed Grace's tits with her hands, massaging them.

Graciela finally reacted. She wanted to slap her abuser for such audacity. —Let me go, mo- MOAH!— Her small burst of courage was interrupted by a loud, involuntary moan. What Isabella was doing to her felt like nothing she'd ever experienced before, neither during sex nor masturbation. She felt as if her breasts were putty, and she was reshaping them from the inside out. A strange combination of discomfort and pleasure assaulted her.

The blonde woman continued moaning loudly, while the other contestants looked at her, shocked by the display, and the harem master, excited by the lesbian spectacle.

Isabella finished her work by squeezing the nipples, twisting them slightly, then stood up and admired her work. Graciela was stunned, her mouth still open, moaning, slightly drooling.

— As much as I'd like to continue, those tits don't belong to me, they're the property of the master, but how about you tell me how you feel?

Grace, not fully recovered from the ****, could only say, — n-no, I f-feel diff-erent — She could barely utter a word. The pleasure she was subjected to was too much. A simple breast tease shouldn't feel like that, but the pleasure was such that she wished she could cum right then and there. Luckily, she still retained enough rationality not to masturbate at that moment.

— Of course not. It's a slow-acting transformation. Little by little, your tits will fill with milk, reaching the point of being uncomfortable and slightly painful, but don't worry. It will never be strong or agonizing, just enough so that you can't stand it and empty them the only way you can: use the milk.

Grace didn't answer; she was busy concentrating on ignoring the arousal in her body. So Isabella moved on to her next prey, turning her back on the future cash cow, she commented, —If you're curious, Magical Baking came in third, and Room Service in second.

When Serena realized she was next, she hugged herself and pulled her legs up to hug her. —Don't even think about it, I saw you do things with just a snap of your fingers, what you did was just for show.

Isabella just gave her a condescending look. —Does the little pig think I'll touch her fat body? Does she think I would do it with a stick?— She slowly approached the woman sitting across from her, extending the moment as long as she could. —And we're lucky, we won't have to see that fat belly of yours anymore. — The winning transformation was "The Ideal Body", with a landslide victory of 72.7% of the votes, followed by "Alternative Exercise", Shared Time, and finally "She Lacks Energy"—. It was inches from Serena's face, but instead of giving her a seductive smile, it only slightly raised one side of its lip in disgust. — I admit I would have preferred that last one to win, just to charge you with so much energy that even after the wildest sex you wouldn't be able to rest, leaving you ready to serve forever,— she licked her lips —, but this came second.

Serena, who was slowly gaining a look of panic at Isabella's words, watched in horror as the thing's hands slowly approached her. She writhed violently, trying, unsuccessfully, to peel herself away from that seat to avoid her fate. But when those perfect hands were inches from her stomach, she zipped her jacket and pulled it up to her neck. The woman-like thing took a step back, expectant. The divorcee was overwhelmed by the entire spectacle. She tentatively tried to unzip her jacket, only to find it stuck in place. —What did you do?— Isabella didn't answer; she just smiled unnervingly.

Serena slowly began to feel hot, sweating profusely, suffocating from the temperature. —WHAT DID YOU DO!— she cried desperately as she tried again to unzip her clothes, harder this time. Steam began to rise from her neck and sleeves, covering her face and hands. She let out cries of despair as she felt like she was in a sauna. In her helplessness, she even tried to pull down her pants and remove her jacket from the bottom, but her clothing stuck to her like her butt to a seat.

Less than ten seconds passed, but it felt like minutes. Everyone watched the display with wide eyes, tense with the outcome. Serena, for her part, lost strength, her limbs going limp as she panted loudly. Isabella approached her with a fan that appeared out of nowhere, waving it to clear the steam as she unzipped her jacket.

— And with a wish upon a fairy, the hideous little piglet became a beautiful ****.

Behind the smokescreen and the clothes, a new Serena emerged. She no longer had fat on her face or stomach, in fact, on almost any part of her body. What had once been a slightly pudgy belly was now a pair of well-defined abs. Her tight pants showed off her leg muscles, and she probably had those same muscles in her arms as well, but they couldn't be seen through the sleeves of her jacket.

The new woman, recovering from near dehydration, panted with her tongue hanging out. But in a second, she noticed something: her breathing felt different, "cleaner," better, even as her sternum expanded more than she remembered. She groped her hand to her face, noticing it was lighter and quicker, feeling a more defined face, without chubby cheeks. With her other hand, she touched her abdomen and gasped at the definition of her muscles. Suddenly, she straightened her back, looked down at herself, and shuddered at what she saw.

— Aren't I a great artist? Although I can't take all the credit, this is the master's ideal vision of a woman, well, one of several. Rejoice that you were blessed to be a living avatar of one of his fetishes. Delight us with your declarations of perpetual love for your master, for blessing you with a body to serve him —, Isabella made a dramatic gesture, as if yielding her voice to Serena, who remained dumbfounded.

Each of the contestants remained on the edge of their seats, attentive to what she had to say. Serena looked up, opened her trembling mouth, and said, — I look horrible —, almost sobbing. She squeezed her eyes shut, tears welling at the corners of them, and hugged herself tightly, trying not to be seen —, I look like a man.

No one knew what to say; even Isabella seemed astonished by the woman's crying. —I didn't want muscles, I just wanted to be thin! Now I'm a phenomenon! — Her screams grew louder, and her voice cracked as she lifted her head abruptly and fixed her gaze on Matías, her eyes red with tears —. You disgusting, effeminate piece of shit! Do you want a man to fuck you? Why would you like women like that?

All the women were disturbed by Serena’s comments. As Serena ranted at Matías, he lowered his head slightly, his face turning bright red with humiliation, and he gritted his teeth.

The commotion would have continued if it hadn’t been for the loud sound of flesh slapping against flesh, so loud it echoed throughout the theater. It was Isabella who had slapped Serena. She had put aside all theatrics; she didn’t have a mischievous, flirtatious, or seductive look on her face. Her eyes were wide open, her teeth clenched, and her breathing was heavy. She was angry, truly angry, not acting it out.

—I can tolerate the discomfort of the participants, even their resistance and denial of the master, it's part of the charm —, her voice didn't rise, nor did it trail off —, but I cannot tolerate such a high offense. You exist to serve your master and his desires. Calling them deviants defeats your purpose —. At the thing's dry words, and its eyes filled with cold fury, Serena could only freeze, trying in vain to utter a few words of apology —, on the floor.

At his command, Serena's body crashed to the floor, in a perfect dogueza pose, pointing in the direction of Matías.

—For insulting your master, you deserve a punishment. It may not be so serious as to eliminate you, but I think I have something good in mind —. Isabella stamped on the offender's head with her heel. Since you've so despised the pleasures of the lord of your body, mind, and soul, what do you think if we give you more of them? She lacks energy so you never stop devoting your time to him, and Shared time so you learn that your place is by his side, that you can't do anything if not with him.

Serena could, as her body trembled with the need to move, an insane desire to do anything, but she was still trapped in the dogueza pose, which made it even worse. Her entire skin prickled with the need to take action, but she suffered from the feeling of being compressed against herself.

Isabella turned her head, still with her foot on Serena's head, looking at Matías —. I'm sorry the punishment can't be harsher, master, but there are parameters that must be followed.

Matías only responded with a distracted nod, his mouth agape at Isabella's chilling display of power. The presenter lowered her foot from the offender's head, the tip of her heel leaving a dent in her scalp. She crouched down to whisper in her ear —, Do you understand that your actions have consequences?

Despite no longer having one foot on her head, Serena could feel her tense body pressing her forehead harder and harder against the floor, the pain gradually increasing —. Yes, yes, I understand, sorry, I'm sorry.

—Who are you supposed to apologize to?

—Forgive me, master, this body is perfect.

Isabella turned away, not wanting to see Serena anymore, even as she **** her body back down into her seat. She stood still in the center of the semicircle of seats, took several deep breaths, calmed herself, and regained her cheerful smile.

—After that outburst, we can continue.