Tonight's the night

A rather hard hitting, yet oddly triumphant theme song kicks into high gear right as the camera fades into our first sight of the season's main location. The shot pans across the luxurious atmosphere, the design of which seems to be a perfect mixture between modernity and the long gone era of kings and rulers.

Away from the towering buildings that flash and flicker enticingly in the light, a veritable sea of palm trees and endlessly stretching roads surround the location like a labyrinth. The layout of each mile of road twists and turns constantly, as if designed specifically to prevent one's escape. Or rather, perhaps to instead encourage entry. Back with the central location, towering columns sculpted out of marble and lined with gold mesh with modern architectural designs and blinding neon lights of all sorts of colors, each one of them advertising one singular subject: What lays directly at center stage of this sprawling paradise.

Surrounded by palm trees and buildings on all sides, a 20’x20’ professional wrestling ring stands squarely in the center of all the festivities, complete with metal guardrails, announce table, timekeeper’s area, and of course, the grandiose entrance stage that all modern wrestling companies scramble to have made. With a ramp crafted and grated out of pure solid steel leading up to a rectangular base piece, the impressive construct comes complete with multiple towering video screens, stage props that reflect the classical hub which surrounds the arena, and an impressive display of pyrotechnics to rival New Year's Day itself. All around the arena, countless fireworks and sparklers ignite and explode in a perfect display, a small celebration of what’s to come here tonight.

As the camera cuts to the ‘hardcam’ view of the wrestling ring, a lone woman stands in the center of the ring, microphone in hand and a gleaming grin lining her face. With the attention turned her way, the pounding theme song lowers in volume, and the lavender-clad woman begins.

“Ladies, gentlemen, and everybody else that is tuning in all around the world, welcome…to Harem Hotel!” An eruption of artificial applause begins, the girl allowing herself a small bout of giddy, child-like laughter.

Of course, being the first person properly seen by those at home, the presumed host of this program looks to be perfectly in-line with what’s to be expected: Long, toned legs bared from halfway down her thighs onward; a glimmer of gold hanging from both of her ears; long, flowing chestnut brown hair made to look picture perfect; and, just to top it all off, a dazzling amethyst gemstone sitting inside of a pendant which nestles comfortably in the modest, yet respectable cleavage being put on display.

“My name is Ms. Serenity Titanne, and this season, I am far more than just your host, or a Mistress of Ceremonies. This season, I am also the brains behind the single greatest night in the history of our show, the booker behind our main event of the evening, and the General Manager of Harem Hotel’s first foray into the wonderfully wide and robust world of professional wrestling!” Once more, that artificial applause cuts in, but this time? Serenity waves it off, cutting the canned reaction a tad bit short.

“Ah, no need for applause, people. After all, I still have quite a lot of work laid out ahead of me!” With those words, Ms. Serenity Titanne lets out another giggle, and the camera feed shifts over, showcasing scenes from various prior seasons while she continues her introduction.

“For those of you who have never tuned in before, Harem Hotel is a show where normally, the host is tasked with drafting a group of women - or sometimes men, depending on preference - to compete for the love and affection of a chosen master or mistress. These draftees then compete in various challenges, fight for their chosen one’s attention, and undergo life-altering changes in both mind, body, and soul. All for the sake of becoming one of the lucky few to join in on the harem of a lifetime! For those who gather enough Victory Points, their lives will be spent in complete and utter bliss, serving the season’s chosen one as part of their Harem. Those who don’t meet the threshold, however…”

As Serenity trails off, the scenes begin focusing on those unlucky enough to be eliminated from Harem Hotel, and the transformations that follow. Shots of both men and women alike being turned into maids, bimbos, depraved cucks with eyes only for the pleasure of those around them, and mindless hucows... And those are still the nicer options out of what is shown.

“Well, let’s not worry about that too much! After all, anyone can win here at the Harem Hotel! And in this season specifically, that is going to become more apparent than ever before, guaranteed!”

Once the scenes finish playing, the focus returns to Serenity, who is now sitting on top of the announcer’s desk, lounging on it like a cabaret singer would a piano. “You see, this season, we’re doing things a tad bit differently. Those of us here at Harem Hotel love pushing the envelope, finding out the best ways to not only make our prospective Masters and Mistresses truly happy, but to grant them their dreams, both sexual and otherwise. And as it turns out, our chosen one seems to have quite a love for the art of pro wrestling! So, I figured… Why not? Why not combine both the object of this show, and the object of their greatest desire, into one neat package for all parties to enjoy?”

The host’s face lights up in excitement, her Mardi Gras-colored lips curling upwards. “This season, we’re not just building a harem for our chosen one. We’re giving them their very own professional wrestling company, complete with a roster of the most devoted, athletic, and driven ladies out there. All of whom will be vying to become not just part of the chosen one’s harem, but to also walk away with the biggest prize on this season of Harem Hotel: To be crowned as the first-ever World Haremweight Champion!”

As the camera pans over, a beautiful golden championship sits upon a podium, the centerplate adorned with small rubies and sapphires, as the Harem Hotel logo sits in the middle, while the sideplates show two nondescript, yet clearly beautiful women battling it out… Or, at least, battling in a way that’s more recognizable to those who have seen Harem Hotel before.

“But enough about the premise, and enough with all the glitz and glam. We’ve had more than enough talk! It’s time… For the main event!”

The first thing Christian could make out was the sound of loud, slightly obnoxious cheering. The type that sports leagues normally banned for being artificial. The type most fans hated to hear during shows. At least, that’s what it sounded like to him, anyway. With the way his head was pounding, though? It could always just be the wind. Opening his eyes, Christian could barely make out the room around him. In fact, it was as if it didn’t even exist.

“...Okay, Christian. Let's try to think this through. I clicked on that advertisement, and then I blacked out from the light. If that’s the case, I should still be at the apartment, and I probably just fell out of my chair in my sleep. My computer probably entered rest mode, and I left the window open. Being that it's summer time, there would've been a breeze going. If that's all to be correct, that means that my phone should be on the desk above me, and that I should be able to grab it, turn on the flashlight, and find a light switch.”

Instinctively, Christian reaches up, trying to grab hold of his desk. Instead, he finds nothing. Reaching once more, Christian’s hand flails aimlessly, and the pounding sensation returns. Wincing, Christian goes to sit up, anticipating the thump of his head hitting the underside of his desk. Nothing.

“Wait, what? Where’d my desk go? Did I move that much while I was passed out?”

Pulling himself up to his feet, Christian turns around in a full 180, trying to get his bearings, and finds a bright light streaming through a set of curtains. Curtains that he never had back at his apartment. Christian turns to the side. No desk. He turns to the other side. No desk.

“...Oh, fuck me.”

Christian’s head pounds again, this time for different reasons. He reaches down, checking his pockets. No phone, no wallet, no keys. Nothing. Panic starts creeping in.

“Did someone kidnap me while I was out?!” Realization sets in. Christian grits his teeth. “That damn ad, it must have pinged my location to them. That’s how they knew where to go to get me, isn't it?”

Letting out a frustrated growl, Christian strides forward. If he’s going to get out of this situation alive, he might as well head to wherever the hell his captors want him to be. As he steps closer to the curtain, however, that feeling from earlier swells inside of his stomach. This setup, the sounds of cheers that's fading away, it all seems familiar. Too familiar, even. In fact, if Christian really thought about it, all that is truly missing here is someone calling out his stats off a notecard. But there is no conceivable way in his mind that someone or something kidnapped him from his home, just so they could drag him back here, into the cold, unforgiving realm known as-

“Ladies and gentlemen, introducing first… Standing at six feet tall, weighing in at 237 lbs, he is this season’s Master of Harem Hotel, Christian Wheeler!”

"...Oh, fuck off."