John's legs were burning. He'd been chasing that damn cat for what felt like forever, and now he was climbing stairs he didn't even know existed. The staircase spiraled up through the mansion, each step made of the same black marble as everything else, but these ones were narrower, steeper, like they led to some forgotten tower. John's breath came in ragged gasps, his chest heaving, his thighs screaming in protest. He'd designed this body to be muscular and athletic, but apparently that didn't mean he had infinite stamina. Who knew?
"Yuulus!" he wheezed, one hand on the stone railing. "Get back here!"
Above him, the white cat paused on a landing and looked back. Those white pupils on black sclera gleamed with obvious amusement. The cat's tail flicked once, twice, and then it turned and kept climbing, moving at a leisurely pace now, like it knew John could barely keep up.
John gritted his teeth and pushed harder. One step, two steps, three. His lungs were on fire. Sweat dripped down his forehead, stinging his yellow eyes. He'd been a god for like five minutes and he was already getting winded chasing a cat.
This was pathetic. This was the least dignified thing he'd done since Elrin had pissed on him in the kennel.
But he wasn't going to give up. No way. That little brat owed him a belly rub.
The stairs finally ended at a narrow hallway lined with old paintings, portraits of people John had never seen. The cat was at the far end, sitting on its haunches, watching him approach with that same smug expression.
John lunged.
He dove forward, arms outstretched, and his fingers closed around soft white fur. He tackled the cat to the ground, rolling once, twice, and then he was on top of it, pinning it to the cold stone floor.
"GOTCHA!" John yelled, his voice echoing down the hallway.
The cat beneath him went rigid. Its eyes went wide, and then it sneezed, that same tiny "choo!" sound, and a puff of white smoke erupted around them. When the smoke cleared, John was no longer pinning a cat. He was pinning Yuulus.
The humanoid form was back, pure white skin, curly black hair, those striking white-on-black eyes. And he was trapped beneath John, their bodies pressed together from chest to hip. Yuulus's flat chest was heaving against John's, his wide hips spread on the floor, his big ass squished beneath him. The little femboy's face was bright red, his blush spreading down his neck and across his collarbone.
John was panting hard, his breath coming in short, hot bursts. He looked down at Yuulus, their faces inches apart, and grinned.
"Gotcha," John said between breaths, the word coming out in a wheeze.
Yuulus stared up at him, mouth open, those little fangs visible. His white pupils were dilated, his black sclera making the expression even more intense. He looked like a deer caught in headlights, completely frozen, completely flustered.
John was about to say something else when he felt it. Something poking him in the thigh. Something hard and warm pressing against his leg through fabric. He looked down.
Yuulus was wearing dolphin shorts, tight and light blue, and there was a very obvious tent in the front. A small tent, given the two-inch cock John had designed, but unmistakably a tent. The fabric was stretched tight over the bulge, and there was even a small wet spot forming at the tip.
John's grin widened so much his face hurt. He looked back at Yuulus, who was now looking anywhere except at John. His blush had somehow gotten even deeper, spreading to his ears, his neck, even the tops of his shoulders.
"Oh ho," John said, his voice dropping into a teasing purr. "What's this? Do you like it when your master is on top of you?"
Yuulus's eyes snapped back to John's for half a second before darting away again. His mouth opened, closed, opened again. "N-No!" he finally managed, his voice cracking.
"I don't! Shut up! You're heavy and gross and I hate this!"
He turned his head to the side, crossing his arms over his flat chest in a huff. "Hmph!"
John just laughed. The little brat was so transparent. His body was literally telling the truth even while his mouth was lying. The tent in those dolphin shorts was twitching now, growing slightly, and the wet spot was getting bigger.
John pushed himself up, standing slowly, his knees popping from the exertion of the chase. He brushed off his pants and looked down at Yuulus, who was still lying on the floor, still blushing, still refusing to make eye contact.
"Okay," John said, stretching his arms over his head. "Since you 'don't' want to have sex with your master, I'm going to bed. Night."
He turned and walked away before Yuulus could respond.
Behind him, he heard a sputtering sound, a half-formed protest, and then a tiny "Wait—!" that cut off as John rounded the corner. He grinned to himself, pulling up the system map with a flick of his wrist. The blue screen appeared in the air, showing the entire layout of the mansion. Fifty-one thousand rooms. He zoomed out, then back in, looking for the biggest bedroom on the first floor. There it was, highlighted in gold.
He tapped it and teleported.
The world folded around him, and then he was standing in the middle of the most ridiculous bedroom he had ever seen. The ceiling was at least twenty feet high, painted with a fresco of stars and clouds that looked almost real. The floor was polished black marble, same as everywhere else, but here it was inlaid with gold patterns, swirling designs that caught the light. Massive windows lined one wall, looking out onto the interior courtyard and the tower beyond.
And the bed.
John whistled low, a long, appreciative sound. The bed was enormous. Two Alaskan king beds pushed together, or maybe three. It was easily fifteen feet wide and fifteen feet long, a sea of pillows and blankets and furs. The frame was dark wood, carved with intricate scenes of dragons and knights and what looked like anime girls if you squinted. The sheets were black silk, and there were at least a dozen pillows stacked at the head.
"I like it," John said to the empty room, nodding slowly. "I really, really like it."
He walked around the bed, running his hand over the silk sheets. They were cool and smooth under his fingers, probably the most expensive fabric he'd ever touched. He could already imagine sprawling out on this thing, taking up the whole bed, sleeping like a king. A demon king, technically.
He noticed a couple of doors on the far wall, both made of the same dark wood as the bed frame, both with gold handles. Curiosity got the better of him. He walked to the first door and pushed it open.
A bathroom. But not just any bathroom. This thing was a palace all on its own. The floor was white marble, veined with gold, polished so bright he could see his reflection. A massive sunken tub dominated the center of the room, easily big enough for six people, with steps leading down into it and gold faucets shaped like swans. There was a separate shower with glass walls and multiple showerheads, a toilet that looked like a throne, and a vanity with two sinks and a mirror that stretched from floor to ceiling. Everything was accented in gold, from the towel racks to the soap dishes to the little jars of who-knew-what lined up on the shelves.
"Holy shit," John breathed. He turned in a slow circle, taking it all in. This was nicer than any hotel he'd ever seen in pictures. Nicer than any billionaire's penthouse. This was the kind of bathroom that made you want to take three showers a day just because you could.
He backed out of the bathroom and went to the second door.
This one opened onto a closet. But again, not just any closet.
A walk-in closet the size of a small apartment. Racks and racks of clothes lined the walls, organized by color and type. Shirts, pants, jackets, coats, all in his size, all in his style. There were shelves of shoes, boots, sneakers, sandals, all perfectly lined up. A display case in the center held watches and jewelry, gold chains and rings and cufflinks. Another section had hats and belts and scarves. Everything was black, white, or gold, matching the palace aesthetic.
John stepped inside, running his fingers over a row of designer jackets. The fabric was soft, expensive, exactly the kind of stuff he'd put on his avatar. The system had just... stocked the closet for him. Without him even asking.
"This is officially my room," John said out loud, grinning like an idiot. "This is my room now. I live here. This is where I sleep."
He walked back out of the closet and into the main bedroom. The bed was still there, enormous and inviting. The windows still looked out over the courtyard. The fresco on the ceiling still swirled with stars.
John stepped out of the bedroom and into the hallway beyond.
And then he stopped.
The hallway stretched out in both directions, identical in every way. Black marble floor, gold sconces on the walls, dark wood doors at regular intervals. No landmarks, no signs, no clues. Everything looked exactly the same. He turned around, looking back at the door he'd just come through. It looked exactly like every other door.
He turned the other way. Same hallway. Same doors. Same sconces.
John stood there, mouth slightly open, and realized he had no idea where he was. The map was still in his system, but he'd closed it when he teleported. He pulled it up again, but the map just showed a floor plan with hundreds of rooms, none of them labeled. He could see the big bedroom highlighted, but he had no idea how to get back to the main part of the mansion from here.
"Uh," John said to the empty hallway. "I'm lost."
The hallway offered no response.
He was lost in his own house. His fifty-one-thousand-room, forty-six-million-square-foot palace, and he had absolutely no idea where anything was. He didn't know how to get back to his office, or to Marrianetta's torture room, or to the library, or to the game room. He was standing in a random hallway on the first floor, surrounded by identical doors, and he didn't even know which direction led to the courtyard.
"Great," John muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "Just great."
He picked a direction at random and started walking.