Chapter Three

Skye stomped across the safehouse floor, her pink stilettos clacking with each furious step, her fists clenched tightly enough to cause her jeweled nails to bite into her palms. She spun towards Zane, who slouched on a wooden chair, his brown eyes shimmering thoughtfully with a mix of defiance and calculation. “Like, no way am I buying your dumb plan, Zane,” she squealed in her forced ditsy valley-girl voice. “You’re, like, totally gonna get us both killed, or worse!” She exclaimed.

Zane straightened, his huge basketball-sized tits shifting uncomfortably, and spread his hands in a gesture that might have signaled his sincerity if not for his history of betrayal. “I’m serious, Skye. We need to beat that asshole at his own game,” he said. “He won’t ever let us escape this game. We need to take the fight to him.”

The blonde transformed woman sighed and exasperatedly placed a hand on her forehead. “Oh my gawd, he’s like, a magician and stuff, Zane!” She tried to explain. “We totally can’t compete with that!” She absently tugged on the damning collar around her neck that spark her multiple transformations.

Zane leaned forward, his own stilettos forcing his posture into an awkward sway as he stood, and fixed Skye with a hard stare. “We’re not competing with his magic, Skye,” he said, groaning as the tongue stud in his mouth clicked against his teeth. “We’re gonna work together and overload these damn chokers. When these damn things are off, he can’t hurt us.”

Skye folded her arms over the sliver of skin between her crop top and g-string. “I totally don’t know about this,” she stubbornly insisted. “Like, I bet you wanna go first, and then totally screw me over like before.”

The conman sighed. “Look, you can go first if you want. I want the same thing you do: to get back to my old life.” The man tried to sound reassuring, but their rivalry and Zane’s past indiscretions made the blonde former tomboy wary of his promises.

“Fine,” she eventually relented. “We’ll try your silly plan if, like, I get to go first.” She rolled her eyes; the woman was sick of sounding like a dumb bitch.

Zane smiled and stood up from his chair. “Good,” he exclaimed excitedly before heading to a toolbox in a cupboard under the stairs. His shoes hindered his hasty progress. After five minutes of preparation, the man had hooked two wires up to a battery and approached his rival, who had taken a seat at the dining table.

“This might sting a little,” he warned the blonde as he approached. However, moments before the two wires connected to the woman’s collar, it began to warm up and vibrate.

“Like, what did you do?!” She cried out, but the alarmed expression on Zane’s face told her that he was receiving the same sensations. She opened her huge DSL lips again, but Skye was wrapped up in magical crimson swirls before she could make a noise. The blonde and Zane found their vision blurred until it went black entirely. Skye was transported into a pitch-black void, Zane’s muffled shout echoing somewhere nearby, until they were both spat out with a jarring thud.

Skye hit the group with a high-pitched yelp, her bare knees slamming into a cold, polished stone floor. She scrambled to her feet and glanced around the large, open area. A deafening roar of cheers erupted around the pair, and Skye froze. They had been transported to the center of a vast arena, with towering walls looming under a strange, starless sky. Jagged iron spikes lined the circular perimeter, while rows of faceless spectators packed the stands, forming a cohesive, unified chant that sent shivers down her spine. Red runes pulsed along the walls, creating an enchantment that prevented the pair from escaping.

Zane staggered upright beside her and grabbed his choker. The warm pulsing sensation had died down, but the man’s battery and wires didn’t accompany the pair into the arena, so the object was stuck around his neck for now. “What the fuck is this place?” he bellowed, but Skye didn’t respond, her plump lips open in awe: was this the final challenge?

A figure materialized on a floating platform high above them. Skye’s stomach dropped as their powerful nemesis and puppet master, Darius Vance, appeared, his silver hair blowing majestically in the artificial wind. The platform transported the man to a section at the far end of the arena, where he strode forward and took his seat on a gold and red throne. He raised his arms, silencing the crowd with a single gesture. “Welcome, honored guests, to the climax of my grand game. I know you all have a vested interest in whether our stars complete the challenge or fail miserably, you degenerate gamblers,” he flashed a smile down at the pair as the crowd laughed. “Today, we will witness the three-part final challenge I like to call the Transformation Track!” His announcement brought raucous cheers from the perverse crowd.

Zane had heard enough and lunged in the direction of the omnipotent wizard, but a glowing magical leash snapped taut from his choker to the arena floor, yanking him back with a choked grunt. The crowd’s laughter swelled, riling up the conman even further. “You’re gonna regret this, you twisted fuck!” Zane roared defiantly.

Darius leaned forward on his throne, staring down with amusement. “Wow, after all these challenges, that fire is still burning bright inside of you,” he said before flicking his wrist, sending a pulse of magic that enveloped Zane’s huge breasts. Invisible hands massaged them, kneading with deliberate slowness, forcing a humiliated gasp from Zane’s big lips. “I’m impressed,” Darius continued. “But let’s see how fierce you are in a few hours.”

Skye noticed Zane’s horny distress and called out. “Like, stop that, you sick jerk!” she cried out in a childish whine.

Darius turned his attention to the blonde woman and dropped his hands, saving the conman from the pleasurable touch. “You’re right,” The puppet master said. “Let’s get this show started.”

The silver-haired puppet master clicked his fingers, and Skye felt a chill run down her body. She glanced down and squealed at the sight of her naked body below her. Her crop top and g-string had been removed entirely, exposing her skin to the world, including her ‘Community Property’ tramp stamp. The journalist’s padlocked stilettos and magical choker remained, but the rest of her outfit had vanished.

Zane groaned out as he found his minidress and stockings dissolved similarly, his huge breasts and hairless body on display for the cheering audience around him. He also retained his impractical shoes and the damned collar.

Another click of Darius’s fingers, and Skye gasped sharply. She found a cold, metallic weight settle over her pelvis as a sleek chastity belt locked her vagina securely. The device was weighty as the blonde searched for a way to remove it. Zane cursed as his existing chastity cage transformed, a new metal belt wrapping around his pelvis and fixing his locked cock in position, matching Skye’s accessory.

“Prepare for the challenge of your lives, puppets,” Darius declared, his voice booming as the etched runes flared brighter. The arena began to transform as the pair came face to face with their first challenge.

❖

The arena shuddered as a massive wall rose from the arena floor, its attached plastic rocks etched on the side of the growing structure showed that it was a rock-climbing wall. Darius’s voice echoed around the arena, his magic projecting the sound. “Puppets, your first trial is simple,” he announced with sadistic glee. “You must climb this wall together within ten minutes. If you fail, one of you will receive another transformation, and you must unanimously agree on who will be subjected to the forfeit.” His smile widened. “However, if you don’t agree, you will both receive the transformation.”

Skye wasted no time and lunged for a protruding plastic hold, her fingers gripping the rough surface tightly, and pulled herself upwards. She found it difficult to keep a consistent grip with her long, pink fingernails fighting her every step of the way, and the blonde’s stiletto heels forced her to take the climb far more carefully than she had ever needed to before. Skye was a proficient hiker and rock climber in her spare time, and she wanted to win this challenge for the pair of them.

A few rungs up already, Skye glanced down at Zane, who fumbled for a lower hold. He may not have had the same crazy nails as Skye, but he had his own problems. The conman’s bare, sensitive breasts pushed against the rough, rigid surface, hindering his progress. “Like, come on, Zane!” Skye called down. “You can totally do it!” She tried to encourage the feminized man.

Skye sighed and stared at the ominous holographic clock surrounding the arena; they had already wasted two minutes. Perhaps they would win the challenge if she made it up alone, she thought. Anything was worth a try. She steeled herself and clasped the next rock, and the next one, slowly making her way up the straight edge of the wall.

Halfway up the wall, Skye prepared to grab another protrusion when she heard an agonizing yelp below her. Zane cried out, desperately gripping the side of the wall as his metal chastity belt delivered a series of excruciating electric shocks to his cock and balls, almost prompting the feminized man to fall from the structure and lose all progress.

“Stop!” Zane shouted out, and Skye did. As the man climbed one step higher, the electric shock halted. The pair had a proximity sensor in their belts, and they would shock the person furthest behind if their distance became too great. Still shaking from the gut-wrenching agony, the hustler pulled himself up further.

Skye clung to the wall, her fingers aching as she held a jagged plastic hold, and watched Zane struggle below, his face pale from the chastity belt’s shocks. The crowd jeered the pair. She shuddered at the ramifications of the perverted puppet master’s design. If she or Zane fell now, the belt would buzz relentlessly until they climbed high enough to be closer to the other prisoner. The woman looked at the clock again; only six minutes remained. “Oh em gee, Zane. You totally gotta hurry up!” She squealed.

The blonde eased herself down a few holds, careful not to slip as she stabilized her high-heeled feet below. She reached for Zane’s arms, her fingers brushing his smooth, sensitive skin to help him up. “Like, come on, we’re running out of time,” her patience giving way as the clock ticked down.

Determined not to lose the challenge, Zane nodded and grabbed the woman’s hand, allowing her to help him up. Zane was far less adept at activities like this, and despite having a stockier frame, his muscles ached, and they were only halfway to the summit.

Zane grunted, his face contorted with pain as he gripped the next hold, the pair ascending the wall side by side. With the clock ticking down to under 90 seconds remaining, Skye saw the finish line. “Come on, we’re totally close.”

Taking it one step at a time, they were inches from the top, the crowd suddenly cheering in anticipation as success was in reach. Suddenly, Zane misjudged a hold and his stilettoed feet slipped, causing him to lose his grip and fall. Fortunately, Skye anticipated his descent and reached out her hand, grabbing her rival’s flailing arm as he tumbled. She struggled to maintain her grip on the wall with her long fingernails painfully digging into the plastic mound, her other arm supporting the man’s weight.

Zane managed to regain his grip on the wall, allowing Skye to let go and focus on her own balance. The two desperately climbed the wall together until Skye found her way to the platform’s top. She crouched down and helped the con artist up, prompting wild cheers from the crowd.

“Thanks,” Zane said sincerely with an exhausted smile, although his expression changed when he glanced at the clock. Eleven minutes and one second were frozen on the screen. They had climbed the wall, but they were one minute late. “Ohh, fuck!” The man exclaimed.

Skye’s heart sank. She had given her all to complete the challenge in time, and it was all for nothing. She knew that Zane wouldn’t make the sacrifice that would spare her a transformation. “Oh em gee, Zane!” She cried out. “You totally messed this up!” She was furious despite her melodic, childish tone.

Zane’s face flushed, and he opened his mouth to retort, but he was interrupted by the booming voice of the puppet master. “Congratulations on reaching the summit, puppets,” he gleefully exclaimed. “However, your tardiness demands a price.” He leaned forward on his golden throne, his pale blue eyes fixed on the contestants like a predator watching his prey. “One of you must volunteer for a transformation, and you must unanimously agree. You have sixty seconds to decide, or else my magic will transform you both.”

Skye glared at Zane, her long fingernails digging into the palms of her hands, bracing for the man’s inevitable betrayal. “Like, you’re totally not sticking me with this, you jerk!” she squealed, her rational mind racing to outmaneuver him. Still, she knew the transformation was inevitable unless her rival agreed to take the punishment himself.

Zane parted his plump lips to speak, but paused, lowering his head to the floor. He sighed before looking Skye in the eye. “I know I fucked up. I’m sorry for those times I betrayed you. I’ll take this one,” he said somberly. Skye gasped, placing a hand on her chest. Was he serious?

The feminized naked man turned to face the puppet master. “I volunteer myself, you bastard. Let’s see what you got!” Zane said stoically, prompting a harsh gasp from the audience.

Darius stood up and clapped. “Very selfless of you, Zane,” he said with amusement, “or stupid.” He clicked his fingers, and the feminized man felt his collar flare up, starting to heat up and vibrate; the changes were coming.

As Zane focused on his choker, he failed to immediately notice the world getting bigger as he lost his height. He shrank further and further until he was no more than 5’5” tall, although his 7” heels added to the length. However, the transformation wasn’t complete. Zane’s stocky frame melted into a slender, fragile form, his face softened into smooth, feminine contours. His muscle mass had all but disappeared completely, leaving the man with a feminine, dainty frame. His face barely looked like his own anymore, with his oversized lips and softened features, and his G-cup breasts looked more ridiculous on his slight frame.

Skye’s mouth dropped open, and Zane was too gobsmacked to react to his new body. “What a wonderful doll you are,” Darius gloated at the pair’s dismay. “I hope your future challenges don’t require much strength.”

The puppet master clicked his fingers, and the rock-climbing wall began to recede back into the floor, lowering the pair towards the ground level. “Proceed to your next trial, if you dare,” the silver-haired man challenged them, signaling the next stage of their final challenge.

❖

Before Zane could come to terms with his new form, Darius clicked his fingers again, using his hands to paint an imaginary picture. The arena transformed with each invisible brush stroke, the stone floor morphing into worn wooden planks, the towering walls shifting into rough-hewn wooden beams, creating a farm barn-style chamber, giving the area a rural rustic feel.

Skye froze, and her eyes steadied on the horrifying image in the center of the room. Five panicked, naked women were lined in a row, their arms trapped behind their backs in restrictive metal devices that forced them to bend over, their muffled protests ringing around the arena as each one wore a different colored ball gag.

A single tin bucket sat beneath the first woman, directly below her swinging breasts, and the faceless crowd cheered at the scene before them. Each woman continued to strain against their bonds, but the metal kept their arms and ankles in place, ensuring they were bound on the spot. Their eyes sparked fear, and Zane wondered where the hell Darius had picked the poor women up from.

Darius waved for the audience to quieten down, and they did without complaint. “Puppets, your second trial is quite delicious,” he remarked. “I’m sure you have noticed the tin bucket ahead of you. Your challenge is to milk these delightful hucows one at a time until you have extracted enough cream for the green light hovering above their heads to turn on. Once a light is turned on, you may move to the next hucow and continue the process. Your task will be complete once all six cows have been milked.” Skye scratched the back of her neck as she counted only five women before her. “You have thirty minutes to complete this fun challenge. The same forfeit applies should you fail.”

Zane felt his cock twitch at the sight before him, prompting a groan from his mouth as the unforgiving cage prevented him from getting hard. He stepped forward to volunteer, but Skye stopped him. “Ahem, like, I will do it,” she said, not wanting the poor women to be subjected to any further humiliation. Zane folded his arms beneath his own impressive chest in a pouty sulk.

Skye strode toward the first woman, her pink stilettos clacking sharply on the wooden planks. The woman was in her mid-twenties, with dark brunette hair tied in a tall ponytail. She had green eyes that exuded intelligence, although the shaken expression on her gagged face hid her formerly independent personality well. She wore a black ball gag and muffled a protest when Skye affectionately cupped her bare C-cup chest.

“I’m, like, so sorry. But I totally gotta do this to win,” Skye apologized to the trapped woman before massaging her breasts. As she did, milk began unnaturally seeping out of the woman’s teat, and Skye directed it into the bucket.

The bucket filled slowly, each spurt of milk splashing against the tin as Skye worked. She gripped her long fingernails around the second teat and alternated her motion to double her speed. The woman stared at her in horror and muffled protests during the encounter. Skye tried to avoid looking at the woman, instead focusing on the unlit light above her head, willing it to turn green. “You’re doing great, Skye,” Zane encouraged the blonde woman, sliding a hand instinctively towards his crotch, cursing as he clashed with the heavy metal cage keeping him locked up.

The green light above the first woman flashed. Zane immediately grabbed the bucket, sliding it below the second woman, a cute, freckled woman in the 19-21 age range with flowing dark red hair, and immediately began massaging the trapped woman’s D-cup teardrop breasts.

Skye scowled at him, and he noticed. “Hey, your hands must be exhausted. We need to spread the load and work together, right?” His tone told Skye everything she needed to know about why Zane volunteered for the job, and his small, feminine hands manhandling the poor girl’s breasts infuriated her. He was right, though. Her hands were already aching, and there was no way she could sufficiently milk all five women before the timer expired.

He pressed against the redhead’s nipples and smiled into her gagged face as he got into a rhythm. The con artists cock strained painfully against his metal prison. Still, he blocked the agony from his mind and focused on milking the cute woman. Eventually, the light turned green, but Zane didn’t stop until Skye snatched the bucket from him.

“Like, stop it!” She cried out to her enemy-turned-partner and slipped the bucket below the third woman’s trapped form, a blonde wearing a white ball gag, with tiny A-cup breasts. Skye began working, struggling due to the smaller curves and her attempt not to cut the woman with her obscene nails. She finally managed to get into a rhythm and milk the woman in front of the adoring audience.

The green light appeared above the third woman, and Zane moved onto the fourth, a woman with short, cropped blue hair and a large blue ball gag. Unlike the panic in the eyes of the others, this woman exuded fury and anger, rattling against her bonds and staring Zane dead in the eyes. The feminized man got the sense that the blue-haired woman would kill him if she ever got free, and that kind of reminded him of Skye in a way. Well, the old Skye anyway.

Zane squeezed the fourth woman’s full breasts, his delicate fingers working as he avoided her death stare. He made a living out of tormenting fiery feminists, but he was in no position to gloat too heavily. The milk flowed into the bucket, and just over five minutes later, the green light flickered on.

Skye wasted no time and slid the bucket her way, the weight becoming difficult to handle as the white liquid occupied about two-thirds of the formerly empty space. She looked empathetically at the pink-haired woman in her mid-thirties, her big lips wrapped around a pink ball gag, and her E-cup bosom swinging below her. Skye shook her head; she needed to complete the challenge, and they had less than ten minutes remaining.

The blonde journalist knelt before the pink-haired woman, her pink stilettos digging into the wooden flooring, and gently cupped the woman’s breasts, eliciting a muffled cry through the ball gag. Milk spurted into the bucket as Skye squeezed, trading the bound woman’s humility for a chance at her own salvation. Zane stood nearby, with his arms folded beneath his naked fake tits, glancing between the ever dwindling clock, the unlit light and Skye’s rhythmic actions.

The fifth light illuminated, prompting a cheer from Skye as she rose to her feet in celebration. They had done it with five minutes to spare, or at least, they thought they had. The timer continued to tick down, and the crowd still murmured in anticipation. What were they missing?

“Skye.” Zane grabbed her attention and nodded to the empty space beside the five women. “I think there are supposed to be six here. There is space for another.” Skye stared at the empty space and shook her head. She knew what that meant.

“Well, it’s totally not gonna be me,” she exclaimed in a high-pitched squeal. “Look at your boobies. Like, you do it.”

Zane glanced at his naked chest, high and round. Logically, he would likely be the best choice, except for one caveat. “You know I’m actually a guy, right? We don’t know how easily these will create milk, if at all.”

Skye groaned, but he had a point. She stared at the timer as it continued to fall, staggering towards four minutes remaining. “Fine!” She relented. She knew it had to be her.

Skye stepped into the empty sixth station and cried out as the formerly stationary metal device whirred into action, clasping her waist and pinning her arms behind her back, forcing her to bend over. Twin cuffs encircled her ankles, keeping the transformed blonde in a helpless position, with her B-cup breasts hanging below.

Zane struggled to mask a smile when he saw his rival in another helpless position. He couldn’t help being turned on whenever Skye found herself humiliated. Finally, a yellow ball gag flew into her pouty mouth and strapped itself behind her head, leaving her as helpless as the other five women.

With less than four minutes to go, Zane didn’t hesitate and slid the almost full bucket beneath his ‘game show’ partner. Massaging the blonde’s pert tits, he gripped her nipples and got to work. It took several attempts before the milk started squirting, but when it did, Skye’s eyes widened as her breasts began to tingle.

Zane continued his work, hearing Skye’s protesting, gagged moans, and stared down quizzically. Were her breasts getting bigger? He wondered. About thirty seconds later, the proof was unmistakable. Slowly but surely, Skye’s breasts were expanding every time Zane squeezed her nipples. They soon became real handfuls in the con artist’s delicate fingers; at least a C-cup.

The bucket’s contents rose steadily, each spurt of milk splashing against the tin as Zane worked Skye’s breasts, now swelling past D-cup. “Mmphhh mmumpphh!” the blonde protested, but Zane was focused on getting the job done.

Skye’s eyes widened further, her rational mind reeling as her breasts continued to inflate, reaching large, natural teardrop F-cup proportions before the green light finally illuminated. As the challenge was completed, the ball gag dissolved and the metal binds unlocked, freeing the new busty woman from the device.

Zane’s grin from Skye’s new, improved bust was short-lived when he stared at the timer and found they were thirty seconds too late. They had failed again. Skye wasn’t even paying attention to the time, cupping her new breasts in awe and disgust; how could this happen to her?

Darius’s voice boomed through the barn-like chamber, cutting through the loud and delirious cheers of the perverse crowd enjoying Skye’s new, uncovered assets. “Puppets, your dedication is admirable, yet you were late again,” he taunted with poetic amusement. “One of you must volunteer for another transformation. Take over sixty seconds to decide, and you will both suffer the same fate. Your time starts now.”

Skye staggered to her feet, ready to fight her own battle, her new enhancements almost knocking her off balance as she approached her rival. However, before she could speak, Zane lowered his head and spoke. “I’ll do it,” he said solemnly. “Those are nice pieces of meat you got there, but I think you’ve suffered enough. I’ll take the punishment.” Skye’s eyes widened. This was the second time Zane had volunteered himself. Had he changed?

Zane faced the puppet master’s throne, his small frame trembling in his tall heels, and raised his voice defiantly. “Get it over with, you sick freak!” he shouted, prompting a murmur from the faceless spectators.

Darius smirked. These two had been fun to play with, and he felt a little sad that his fun was soon drawing to a close. He snapped his fingers, and Zane felt a million tiny pinpricks spread across his scalp.

The feminized man felt his dark hair recede into his head until he was completely bald. Two seconds later, new, vibrant red hair sprouted from the follicles on his scalp and continued to lengthen. They grew longer and longer until they reached the upper part of his back and began to readjust, forming two tall pigtails and giving his bright red hair a juvenile appearance.

He cried out, and Skye had to turn away to prevent herself from chuckling in front of him. The formerly macho man looked the image of rough femininity, with her huge plastic tits, big lips, feminine form and bright red pigtailed hair.

“I love it,” Darius exclaimed, taking his place back on his high-backed chair. “Let’s move on to the final stage, shall we?” He asked the audience, prompting another cheer. The man clicked his fingers, and the bound women disappeared. The arena reshaped itself for one final challenge.

❖

The barn-styled chamber dissolved in a swirl of light, the wooden planks and beams reshaping into something else, although not the swish stone flooring it had before. Instead, the room reformed into a labyrinth of gleaming mirrors, their reflective surfaces stretching endlessly around the arena.

Skye groaned at the image staring back at her. It hadn’t dawned on her just how much she had changed. The bright blonde hair, the unnaturally pouty lips, the permanent makeup, her overinflated ass, and now her matching natural F-cup breasts. She was a bimbo caricature, and she couldn’t avoid her reflection wherever she turned.

Zane had found himself with the same dire problem. His new red hair almost brightened up the room. However, the rest of him was no better. Big, plump lips on his face complemented by thin black eyebrow tattoos gave him a perpetually surprised expression. He had huge, round, obviously fake G-cup breasts hanging high on his chest with silver barbell piercings trapping his nipples. A large expanded bubble butt from the auction challenge, and a short, slight, hairless and sensitive frame completed his transformed look. Any trace of masculinity he used to have was well hidden now.

Darius’s voice echoed from his golden throne. “Ladies, gentlemen, and puppets, this is the moment we have all been waiting for,” he said. “The games have come down to this moment. Puppets, your final trial involves escaping this elaborate maze in under twenty minutes.” He snapped his fingers and the pair’s chastity belts disappeared entirely, giving Zane access to his cock for the first time in weeks, a cock that looked entirely out of place on his feminized body. “You have thirty seconds to escape the mirror maze. If you succeed, I will free you. However,” he grinned wider. “Failure means an eternity as members of my private museum collection.”

As Skye planned to bolt immediately, Vance spoke again. “Be careful, my puppets. This maze is not always what it seems,” he warned them. “If you run into a dead end, you may receive an addition to your outfit that will define your future existence.” The crowd gasped with excitement at the prospect of further changes. “Your time starts now.”

Before they start the challenge, Zane holds Skye back. “I think it’s best we split up for this,” he said. “We can cover more ground. If you find the exit before me, just call out, and I’ll come find you. I’ll do the same.” Skye narrowed her eyes, unable to fully trust her rival despite his previous sacrifices, but the plan did sound logical. She slowly nodded her head and headed inside the reflective maze.

Skye darted down a mirrored corridor, her fingers trailing the cold glass as she turned a corner. The maze was elaborate, with multiple paths to take, and the reflective manner showed the woman’s transformed body from every angle, forcing her to stare at herself while she attempts to escape. The blonde turned a corner and hit a dead end directly ahead. And her lower back began to itch. The reflective surface allowed the woman to witness the ‘Community Property’ tattoo expand as a silhouette of a woman on a stripper pole, bold and black, appeared on either side of the humiliating text. Skye gasped as her fingers brushed the fresh ink. “Like, no way!” She cried out.

Zane heard the yelp and began sprinting down a parallel corridor; he needed to escape before he was trapped as some pervert’s inanimate statue. Unfortunately, the new redhead’s mind was elsewhere, and he found himself bumping into his transformed reflection as he discovered another dead end. He gently rubbed his temple as it throbbed from the collision, when a magical shimmer enveloped him. A red Lycra top materialized before his very eyes, clinging possessively to his chest, the words ‘Daddy’s Toy’ scrawled in bold white letters across the front, paired with a fishnet top that encased his arms. The top couldn’t even cover his entire chest, leaving the conman’s midsection exposed, and plenty of underboob on display to the world.

The blonde woman carefully tottered through the maze, turning several corners, and was relieved to find each of them taking her in a new direction. However, the bimbofied woman’s luck eventually ran out when she turned right, hoping to find the exit, but ended up smashing into another glass wall. A ticklish sensation surrounded Skye’s bare crotch, and a pink PVC g-string materialized around her, the words ‘Tips’ scrawled in glittery white across the front, hugging her curves with humiliation precision, stopping short of the slutty tattoo on her back. “Tips?” Skye questioned. “Like, what the hell does that mean?”

Zane traced back and stumbled down another corridor, his high pigtails bouncing with each practiced step. His stomach churned when he turned a corner and found himself in another reflective dead end. A magical shimmer swallowed him, and tight red Lycra hot pants materialized, clinging to his hips with a bold crotch zip running down the front and flowing across his inflated ass. The new hot pants felt tight against his crotch, and he unzipped the zip to give himself freedom. “That fucking asshole,” Zane groaned about the puppet master, but continued his pursuit of freedom.

Skye retracted her own steps, her pink fingernails grazing the walls to ensure she wasn’t tricking herself. She had the option of turning left or right, and chose left this time around. Her intuition appeared to work dividends until she made another left turn and walked straight into another dead end. “No way!” She cried out, knowing what was to follow. A glow appeared around the woman’s F-cup chest. Still, instead of a slutty top, the blonde found herself humiliated further as pink nipple tassels materialized on her chest, covering her pert nipples, but keeping her upper body fully exposed. “Like, you gotta be kidding me!” She called up to the sky. The crowd approved with a bellowing cheer. Every movement Skye made, the tassels would dance dramatically.

Her partner had his own problems. One dead end had given him sexy, red fishnet stockings, matching the fishnet mesh on his arms, snaking up to his hot pants, and a second wrong turn almost immediately after gave the feminized redhead another transformation. His cock’s relative freedom didn’t last long as he found it once again locked up. However, this cage was a cruel flat cage that forced his cock to invert inside of him, leaving a completely pair front. It had a pink plastic finish and the word ‘Sissy’ was scrawled just above it. Zane clenched his fists; he was going to kill that son of a bitch.

“Like, no freaking way!” Zane heard in the distance as Skye ran into another dead end. Her 7” heels transformed before her very eyes. The altered appearance wasn’t the most dramatic change, but it enhanced her humiliation. She soon found herself tottering unsteadily in 8” stiletto heels with a 4” platform. The stiletto and frame of the shoe were displayed in garish, glittery pink, whereas the platform itself was transparent and took on a plastic sheen. There was a note slit along the side of each shoe, allowing people to slide currency inside.

Zane soldiered on. The pair had no way of knowing how long they had left, and they could only hope they found the exit before the timer ran out. As Zane rounded another corner, he felt a tingle on his face before he even realized he had reached a dead end; Darius was playing with him. The redhead stood in abject disgust, unable to alter the modifications on his face. Permanent makeup, much like Skye’s, was etched onto his skin. A bright, glossy red made his lips appear impossibly large, rose blush emphasized his cheekbones, and Egyptian-style eye makeup made his eyes pop. The man’s fingernails lengthened and transformed into the same shade of red as his lips. He somehow looked cheap and expensive at the same time.

Skye steadied herself against the mirrored wall, struggling in her new footwear. She navigated another corridor, using the wall to keep herself upright. Unfortunately, her next choice hadn’t led to the exit either, and she soon found herself with a new outfit addition. A sharp tingle spread across her legs, and pink thigh-high fishnet stockings materialized, their mesh gripping her toned legs tightly. She stared in awe at her bimbofied appearance. “Like, this isn’t good,” she told herself. She didn’t know how long she had left, but knew it couldn’t be long.

Zane continued his march before pausing momentarily. He thought he saw something unusual, but when he tracked back to examine the area, he couldn’t find anything out of place. He wandered down a narrow corridor and turned left, but found himself face-planting into a new dead end. He braced himself for what came next and was alarmed to find his entire body tingling. Studying himself, he saw various tattoos surrounding his frame. A heart tattoo with an arrow through the center was presented on his collarbone, and a miniature Playboy tattoo hung on his hips. A pair of red lips was etched into the skin below his navel, just above his hotpants, with black text declaring him as ‘Master’s Whore’. ‘What the fuck?’ he thought to himself, but the changes continued. A Hanzi tattoo Zane couldn’t interpret appeared on his forearm, and a tribal winged stencil materialized just below the feminized man’s neck. When all was said and done, five new tattoos decorated the man’s curvy frame.

Skye continued carefully navigating the maze, each corridor looking just like the one before. She almost headed into a dead end, but caught herself and backtracked the other way. As she turned around, she bumped into something and fell back on her plump ass. Looking back at the obstacle, she gasped as she witnessed Zane on his ass, rubbing his temple. It was Zane, but an incredibly sluttified version of the feminized man. “Oh my gawd. Like, look at you?”

Zane stared back at the vision of pink before him. “You’re one to talk,” he said as he rose to his feet. “Are you ready to give me a lap dance?”

Skye rolled her eyes, looking around. “Do you, like, know how long we got left?” She asked the redhead.

The fishnet-clad man shook his head. “No idea, but it can’t be long now.”

The blonde journalist twirled around in search of a clue, careful not to trip on her extreme heels. “Like, this place is a total trap. There is totally no escape!” She exclaimed in a tone that sounded far chirpier than she intended.

“Wait,” Zane said urgently, prompting the blonde to look his way with interest. He carefully approached a reflective panel in the distance. This panel wasn’t like the others; it showed the pair’s reflection, not how they currently appeared, but how they looked before the game even began.

“Weird,” Skye chirped as she followed the man. Zane tentatively pushed a well-manicured hand forward and brushed along the surface. He gasped as his hand moved through the reflection. It wasn’t a solid object at all; it was an illusion.

Taking a deep breath, Zane stepped forward and was swallowed by the magic mirror. “Zane!” the blonde woman cried out with concern. Zane had disappeared.

“Come on!” The woman heard a voice surround her; it was Zane’s. “It’s going to be alright. Just step through.” Skye shuddered. She resisted trusting the man who had stabbed her in the back at almost every opportunity, but she had no choice. The blonde took a deep breath and followed the man inside the mirror.

❖

Skye stepped through the illusory mirror, her vision consumed by blinding white light. She stumbled as the world reformed around her, confetti drifting in the air like colorful snow. She blinked, her eyes adjusting to the grand hall she now found herself in. The room had high ceilings adorned with majestic chandeliers, with the crowd’s cheers roaring from theater-like balconies.

Zane stood beside her, adjusting his hot pants as his cock strained against the sissy flat cage. The puppet master, Darius Vance, materialized before the pair with his arms wide open. This was the first time Skye and Zane had come face-to-face with their tormentor since the start of the challenge.

The silver-haired man approached the slutty-clad caricatures. “Congratulations, puppets. You’ve completed my game and successfully navigated my mirrored maze, all with 45 seconds to spare.” He placed his arm around each candidate. “You must be very proud of yourselves.” His voice was laced with amusement and mockery.

Darius’s pale blue eyes glinted with sadistic delight as he stepped back. He addressed the two contestants, although he spoke with a tone that held the audience’s attention. “Your reward, my puppets, is freedom,” he announced, eliciting a sigh of relief from Zane and Skye. “However, your exquisite transformations will remain. It took a lot of mana to give you such  perfect appearances, and I don’t intend to waste it by reversing you back into your plain, boring, old forms.” The devious magic man clasped his hands together, staring back at the pair smugly.

Skye’s heart sank, her fingers twitching toward her choker as dismay washed over her. She had always counted on returning to her old journalistic life, and now she was faced with the prospect of being trapped in the body of a bimbo bunny.

Zane’s face was contorted with fury, and his new tattooed makeup accentuated his rage. The feminized man clenched his fists. “You fuckin’ bastard, change us back now!” he roared before lunging at the puppet master. Zane swung a fist in Darius’s direction, only to find his fist stop short of the man’s face, an invisible force preventing him from smashing the mage’s face.

Darius’s grin widened as he shook his head mockingly. “Tsk, tsk, tsk,” he tutted and raised a hand with cruel amusement. “I wouldn’t play with what you don’t understand, pet. You may end up getting burned.” The man snapped his fingers and watched Zane’s hands shoot to his throat.

The redhead gasped and choked as he found his vocal cords tightening and reforming. He coughed out and found his voice rose an octave, giving him a feminine, raspy tone. When the tightening stopped, Zane tested out his new voice. “Aww, shit,” he said in a thick unrefined drawl. “You gonna pay for this, asshole.” Zane knew his threats were empty, but he hated feeling so helpless.

Darius’s laugh echoed around the hall. “I’m sure I will, one day, pet,” he grinned. “However, for now, I’m bored with you. Enjoy your new lives, puppets.” The man clicked his fingers once more.

“Wait,” Skye cried out, but her world went dark before she could elaborate further. She found herself swallowed into another black void. She fell hard on her ass as she was spat out in the center of a built up area. Some of the locals paused and stared at Skye and Zane with horror. Skye took to her high-heeled feet and examined her surroundings. The bastard had teleported them to Ebonreach Plaza, the busiest courtyard in the city.

❖

Skye rose to her feet, steadying herself on the 8” stiletto platform stripper heels locked onto her feet. She gently pulled at the fluttering tassels on her nipples, but they wouldn’t budge; they must have been connected using some form of adhesive.

The blonde woman scanned the bustling Ebonreach Plaza. The courtyard was teeming with merchants flogging their wares at the edges, and pedestrians passing through the plaza on their way home from work. Many of them stared with amusement as they watched the bimbo in her pink g-string and stripper shoes, along with the slutty heavily tattooed sissy beside her, wearing his red croptop and hot pants.

Zane adjusted his fishnet stockings after they caught on the ground before turning to Skye. “So, babe,” it was disorienting hearing the former womanizer talk in such a common, street-whore tone. “What’s your next play?”

Skye met the feminized man’s gaze. She spent so much of her adult life wanting this man to meet his comeuppance, but after witnessing his downfall, she couldn’t savor it. “Like, I’m gonna read some books and stuff,” she spoke in the manner of someone who didn’t spend much time reading at all. “I’m totally gonna visit the library and figure out how to reverse all this.” She spoke with a chirpy, optimistic tone. “There’s gotta be some book or mage who can fix us, you know?”

Skye tilted her head and looked at Zane, her own curiosity sparking. “What about you? Like, what you gonna do?” She returned the question, ignoring the perverted leers of the men passing by.

Zane scratched his neck, feeling an empty space where the choker used to reside. He had been so used to being a prisoner in the device that he felt almost naked without it. “I got me a buddy who’s deep in the magic game. He owes me a fat favor,” the pigtailed man said resolutely. He glanced down at his barely covered G-cup tits and scowled. “He’s a rough bastard, total misogynist, but I trust him to know some shit that’ll fix this mess.” He confidently uttered the words, but his heavily made-up eyes relayed a layer of doubt. “Wanna roll with me, babe? I could use a sharp gal like you to keep things steady.” The former con artist groaned; his words felt like ash in his mouth.

The blonde hesitated, her well-manicured hand absently fidgeting with the edge of her G-string as she assessed the offer. Despite her old hatred for the man, it was tempting to join someone who was in the same boat as her. However, she knew what she needed to do. “Like, thanks, but I’m gonna handle this on my own,” she said. “I gotta figure this out my way, you know?” She explained herself.

Zane paused before a faint smirk crossed his pouty lips, and he nodded, accepting her choice with a flicker of earned respect. As the feminized man turned to leave, Skye called out. “Hey!” she chirped, prompting him to spin back around. “Umm, thanks, for everything back there.” Her eyes met Zane’s, sharing a moment of mutual respect for everything they had endured together.

The red-haired man smiled and nodded silently. “You too,” he replied before turning around and tottering across the bustling plaza, leaving Skye alone in the center of the courtyard. The blonde turned around and stared up at the sky. She was free of the game but had no idea where her future would lead her.

❖

Epilogue - One Year Later

Skye’s New Life

Darius Vance strode confidently into The Star Lounge, Ebonreach’s premier gentleman’s club, flanked by two well-dressed associates, their tailored suits mirroring his own sharp pinstripe. The hostess greeted them with a cute curtsy. She wore a purple corseted body suit, her hair held up in a tall bob. “Mr Vance, it’s an honor. Please follow me,” she said with wide, excited eyes.

The brunette hostess led the trio through the dimly lit gentleman’s club to a plush booth beside the main stage, where a dancer twirled around a pole, two spotlights illuminating her topless body. Darius settled into the comfortable seat and ran his hand through his silver hair. He admired the dancer’s fluid movements, although he was disappointed to find that it wasn’t the woman he was looking for. The intimidating mage called over a nearby security guard and whispered in his ear. He grinned as the man nodded and headed over to speak to a manager.

Backstage, Skye adjusted her slutty schoolgirl uniform. She wore a pink and white plaid skirt that barely covered her thighs and a tied-up white blouse exposing her midriff and ‘Community Property’ tattoo behind her. She completed the look with thigh-high white socks, a pink tie dangling between her huge F-cup breasts, and the same pair of 8” platform heels she wore one year ago. The outfit was a humiliating requirement of her job at The Star Lounge.

In her spare time, Skye scoured Ebonreach’s libraries and interrogated rogue mages for any clue on how to reverse her magically induced transformations. She had attempted conventional surgeries and home-brewed potions, but nothing had worked so far. She hated this place, but after one month of burning through her savings, she needed to earn her rent. She was blacklisted from every publication in the city after they discovered she wrote exactly how she spoke. Most businesses deemed her appearance too extreme for their standards. So she ended up here, the only place to hire her and promise the blonde a steady income. She kept telling herself that this was temporary, that this was only until she discovered the reversal spell.

A sharp knock jolted Skye from her thoughts. The manager, a wiry, suited man with a perpetual scowl, barged in, his voice clipped with impatience. “Skye, we got a VIP requesting you,” he told her. “We need you out on the floor now.”

Skye’s big, bright pink lips pursed, her hands smoothing the plaid skirt, giving herself one more look over before glancing at the manager. “Like, my shift hasn’t even started yet!” She protested.

The manager’s glare sharpened, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I don’t care. Don’t keep him waiting, you’ve got two minutes,” he snapped, slamming the door as he left.

Skye exhaled heavily. She hated this place, and she especially hated the VIPs. It was a rare evening when the busty blonde was only required to dance.

Skye stood from her desk, sighed deeply, and tottered out of the dressing room. Various scantily clad women chattered in the backstage areas, scowling at her as she passed. Skye was new meat and needed to earn their respect. Not that she needed the respect of a bunch of strippers, she thought.

The transformed bimbo stepped onto the club floor, the pulsing music already giving her a headache; just another reason to hate it here. The blonde scanned the floor, searching for any sign of one of her VIPs, and when she caught a hand waving in her direction near the main stage, her heart almost stopped.

Skye reluctantly walked over towards Darius Vance and his two cronies, her eyes narrowing in fury as her mind reeled. Why had he asked for her? Hadn’t he destroyed her life enough? Perhaps he was visiting to remove the alterations, but the pit of Skye’s gut knew he wasn’t that type of man.

The scantily clad stripper heard a wolf whistle from one of Darius’s associates as she approached. She had hoped the silver-haired man would start the conversation off, but as she got closer, she knew she needed to follow her training.

The blonde tentatively sat on her tormentor’s knee, her plaid skirt riding up and exposing her bare plump ass on his leg. “Like, hi Daddy,” she chirped. Darius chuckled as he stared into the woman’s eyes; her hatred of him was evident. “Like, what is Daddy looking for tonight?” She placed an arm around his shoulder, her bursting bosom resting on his chest. She hated the act, but knew the manager was watching her every move.

Darius’s blue eyes glinted with sadistic delight, his hand gently caressing Skye’s bare thigh, and he leaned closer, whispering in the bimbo’s ear. “When I discovered you were working here, doll, I knew I had to visit,” he grinned as his breath sent a subtle shudder down her spine. “You’re looking gorgeous in that getup.” The mage paused momentarily. “My friends and I wouldn’t mind playing with you in the private bondage room, pet. What do you say?”

Skye flashed a brighter smile, her training overriding her utter disgust at the man’s suggestion. She giggled. “Like, totally, that sounds super fun, Daddy,” she chirped. She needed this job, and causing a scene with a VIP was a surefire way of getting fired.

Darius’s friends chuckled, one nudging the other with a knowing grin. “Lead the way, sweetheart,” Darius said expectantly, lifting her off his lap. “Perhaps if you do a good job, I’ll visit more regularly.”

Skye grimaced internally, but her heavily made-up bimbo face continued to giggle and smile. The thought of Darius returning regularly filled her with dread, but she could do nothing about it. The blonde steadied her expression. “Like, okies. Follow me, Daddy, it’s gonna be so much fun!” She turned, leading the trio toward the private rooms, her plaid skirt swaying, her tall heels dictating her sultry steps. Skye believed it was only temporary, but for now, this was her life.

❖

Zane’s Whore Life

Zane strained against the leather cuffs binding him to each bedpost, his feminized, naked body taut in the red-walled room. No matter how hard he tugged, he couldn’t release himself from the spreadeagled position, stuck in helpless despair.

“Aghhhh unghhh!” The redhead cried out, his mouth wedged open by a wide, red ring gag, his glossy lips forced apart in a wide, inviting O shape. The feminized figure was entirely naked, his huge G-cup tits jutting on his chest, and the humiliating pink sissy flat cage clamped tightly onto his crotch, completely hiding what was once his pride and joy.

The Velvet Lounge, a seedy, unlicensed brothel on Ebonreach’s rundown outskirts, had claimed Zane as its star. His bimbofied form was a magnet for clients who reveled in his degradation. His pornstar appearance contrasted with the appendage locked between his legs, and his perverse clients ate it up.

Zane had just endured a brutal session with one of those clients, still tasting the sour taste of cum on his pierced tongue. The client had left him bound as a cruel taunt, a recurring torment in this den of twisted perversion. The feminized man’s vibrant red pigtails swayed as he thrashed about. Despite his sweaty struggle, his slutty permanent makeup stayed impossibly perfect.

The door swung open, and Zane’s boss, a hulking man with a rough, jagged scar slicing his left cheek, sauntered in with a shit eating grin on his face at the sight before him. He stepped forward, each step a loud thud on the worn red carpet. “Zoey, darlin’, how you always endin’ up like this?” He mocked, leaning against the bed frame, looking down at his trapped moneymaker.

Zane’s eyes blazed. He hated the new name the man had given him, but after the large man started using it, it became the only name he was ever referred to as. “Aghhh! Pweash, wet aghh oughht!” Zane choked, saliva dribbling from the ring gag. He pulled at his wrist cuffs again, but to no avail.

The man sat on the bed, the springs creaking under his bulk, and ran a calloused hand along Zane’s cheek. “I’m real glad you came crawlin’ to me last year, Zoey,” he said condescendingly as the feminized man continued to struggle against his bonds. “You thought you were some hotshot conman, didn’t ya?” The boss laughed. “Didn’t think I noticed ya scammin’ me left an’ right, and didn’t know I’d keep the receipts.”

The large man flashed a smile, his crooked, brown teeth almost as bad as the smell of the man’s breath. “When you came lookin’ for help, and I showed ya the proof I had, you crumbled,” he laughed sadistically. “Just imagin’ you, lookin’ like that, in a men’s prison. You’d be eaten alive.” He continued to stroke Zane’s soft, feminine cheek. “I think you made the right choice signing up to be my star whore, Zoey.”

Zane’s pleading gagspeak grew more frantic, his curvy body jerking against the cuffs. “Nnghh! Pweashhh!” He cried out again.

The boss’s smile widened, his fingers lingering on Zane’s cheek before he reach down, pulling the ring out of his slut’s mouth, allowing it to hang around his neck. “What you got to say, Zoey?” He asked tauntingly.

Zane gasped; his raspy, common voice now sounded natural to his ears. “I’m done with this dump, Master,” he spat. Zane had been forced to refer to his boss as Master since day one, and despite hating the title, he wasn’t sure he could stop using that title if he tried. “Let me go,” he pleaded. “I’ll cut you in on the score of the decade, biggest fuckin’ haul you ever dreamed of.” Despite his curvy form and bound predicament, Zane’s old con artist confidence shone through.

The boss’s laugh boomed around the half-empty room, his hand sliding down to possessively stroke Zane’s ‘Master’s Whore’ tattoo. “You’re pullin’ in more coin than I know what to do with,” he taunted the redhead. “Jus’ stick with me, Zoey, an’ we’ll be set for life.”

The large man gripped Zane’s ring gag, and the feminized man’s eyes widened. “Please, Master, not anym.. Aghhhhh!” He cried out as Zane’s Master slipped the ring back into the former con artist’s pouty mouth, securing it with a cruel tug.

The boss glanced up at the circular wall clock and smirked. “Your new guy ain’t here for another forty-five minutes. Plenty of time for me to work that pretty mouth of yours, yeah?” He slipped a dirty finger inside Zane’s open mouth. “It’s what those lips are built for, ain’t it?”

The boss stood, his size looming over Zane’s bound, naked body, and unbuckled his belt with a slow, deliberate motion. The large man licked his chapped lips. “I like you better this way, Zoey,” he said tauntingly before climbing onto the bed, the springs groaning under his weight as he straddled the redhead’s busty chest.

“Mmpph! Nnghh!” The feminized man thrashed against his bonds, but his soft, slight frame was no match for the cuffs. The man squeezed Zane’s plastic tits before sliding up, presenting his sweaty, hard cock in the sissy whore’s face. Zane’s Master gripped his slut’s red pigtails and pulled his head forward, positioning the gag over his rigid member. Slowly, the man began to fuck the former conman’s mouth.

“Mmmm, this is the life,” the man exclaimed, enjoying the sensation of Zane’s pierced tongue along the underside of his thick dick. “Don’t ya think, Zoey?”

Zane murmured an unintelligible response; whether he liked it or not, this was his life.

The End