Chapter Two

Skye slammed her fist into the couch cushion, her long pink nails digging into the palms of her hands as she glared down at the rustic floorboards of their safehouse prison. Two days had passed since the dollhouse nightmare, and the ruby choker was still wrapped tightly around her neck; its very existence was a constant reminder of the sick and twisted game in which she found herself embroiled. She shifted, the g-string riding up her crack a little further, and muttered, “That bastard’s laughing at us, wherever the fuck he is.” The blonde’s hazel eyes burned with fury, her pigtails swaying along either side of her face as she leaned forward, elbows on her knees.

Zane paced the room unsteadily, his heels clicking against the wood, the red PVC minidress squeezing his huge, fake breasts with every step. He stopped, raking a hand through his dark hair, and turned to her, his prominent lips pursed in a pout that made his words drawl slightly. “Skye, we need to talk, now.” The conman’s brown eyes held a rare glint of seriousness, and he crossed his arms, the silver barbell piercings poking through the fabric. “We can’t keep going like this, not if we want to beat that son of a bitch.”

The fiery woman lifted her head, her cheeks flushed with irritation as she fixed him with a hard stare. She stayed silent, her fingers pressing furiously against the cushion. She waited, letting him spill whatever nonsense he’d cooked up this time. She crossed her fishnet-clad legs, the butt plug humiliatingly shifting inside her ass, and she clenched her jaw, determined to hear the conman out.

Zane lowered his arms, his hands resting on his hips as he took a step closer, his voice steady despite the faint lisp from his tongue stud. “I know I’ve screwed you over before, Skye, I’m not denying that.” The transformed man met her gaze, his brown eyes searching for a flicker of trust. “But look at us, we’re both fucked up by this game, twisted into these ridiculous bodies, and it’s only getting worse.” He gestured to his chest, then to her, his tone growing urgent. “Darius wants us fighting, tearing each other down; that’s how he keeps us under his thumb. If we work together, pool what we’ve got, we might actually beat him at this.”

Skye sat still, her hazel eyes narrowing as she let his words sink in, her mind churning through every betrayal he’d dealt her. She waited until he finished, his plea hanging in the air, then scoffed, a sharp, bitter sound that sliced through the silence. “Work together? You’ve got some fucking nerve, Keller.” The blonde leaped to her feet, her fists clenched as she closed the distance between them, her voice rising with every word. “You betrayed me every chance you got, like when you led me blindly into that biker bar, left me naked, and gagged for those bastards to use while you jerked off to it.” Her nails bit into her palms, the memory of his smug face when she returned to the safe house fueling her rage. “I don’t believe a fucking word you say anymore, you two-faced prick.”

He flinched, parting his big lips as he stepped back, but the blonde didn’t relent, her anger a living thing. “You think I’d forget how you laughed while I was down, how you’ve screwed me over from the start?” She jabbed a finger into his chest, her jeweled nail pressing against the tight minidress, and glared up at him furiously. “You’re a snake, Zane, always have been, and I’d rather rot in this hell alone than lean on you.”

Zane’s jaw tightened, his own hands balling into fists as his frustration boiled over, his voice cracking with strain. “You’re too damn stubborn for your own good, Lowe, you know that?” The conman threw his arms up, his heels clicking loudly as he turned away. “Have it your way, you stubborn bitch. See where that pride gets you when he turns us into his own personal playthings.” The transformed man stormed out and slammed the door behind him, the frame rattling as his footsteps faded down the hall.

Skye stood frozen, her body shaking from fury after the pair’s confrontation. The blonde shook her head, muttering, “He’s full of shit.” She sank back onto the couch, her fishnets tight against her legs, and rubbed her temples, trying to shove his words from her mind. Skye’s resolve hardened. She couldn’t trust that pig, no matter how sincere he appeared.

As Skye settled onto the couch, a familiar heat flared from her choker, snapping her upright as she clutched at the ruby studs. “No, not now!” The journalist’s voice trembled with dread, and she stumbled back to her feet, and a sharp sting scrawled across her lower back. She twisted, her fingers brushing the spot as the pain deepened, like a blade etching her skin. Her heart raced as she bolted to a large mirror on the wall, lowering the g-string to reveal a fresh tattoo in bold, black ink: “Community Property.” The words sprawled above her tailbone, a humiliating brand that made her sick to her stomach.

“You twisted fuck!” Skye roared at the ceiling towards the omnipotent voice of Darius Vance. She scratched against the tattoo, desperate to rip it off, but it stayed, a permanent mark of humiliation. The blonde’s eyes stared hopelessly at her new branding, and she shook her head in defiance. She wasn’t going to be defeated.

Darius’s voice slid into her mind, smooth and taunting; his amusement was plain to see. “Such a perfect title for you, my pet, don’t you agree?” The warlock’s words coiled around her thoughts, and she gripped her head, trying to shut him out. “Challenge five is coming up, puppet; better get ready to perform.” His laugh lingered, cold and cruel. Her torment wasn’t over yet.

❖

Skye stumbled as her bare feet hit the worn wooden floor, her stomach twisting from the sudden teleportation. She caught herself against a rough table, her jeweled nails scraping the edge, and shook her head, blinking into the clamor of a busy tavern. Her tube top, g-string, and fishnets remained, and she muttered, “What the fuck is this about?” The blonde’s hazel eyes darted over the crowd, shouts and clinking mugs filling her ears, her “Community Property” tattoo freshly stung on her lower back.

Zane landed a step away, his high heels clicking on the planks as he grabbed a chair to steady himself, almost breaking his ankle in the process. His minidress and stockings were still clad to his body. The conman’s slutty lips parted in a scowl as he straightened up, brushing his dark hair from his brown eyes, and he growled, “Where the hell are we now?” He scanned the room in irritation. He knew exactly where they were. Zane visited this watering hole frequently as he tried to scam poor travelers out of their wares; this was The Hogs Head.

Darius’s voice slithered into their minds, smooth and mocking, drowning out the tavern’s noise. “Challenge five, my precious pets, welcome to The Hogs Head.” The warlock’s tone carried a gleeful edge. Skye’s fists clenched, her embarrassing feminine nails once again painfully digging into her palms. “A vicious rumor’s swirling among these pigs, and you’re here to sniff out the truth. The first one to get it wins, and the loser gets a little tweak.” His laugh echoed in their skulls. “You better start chatting.”

Skye glared at the ceiling, her voice sharp as she barked, “Go fuck yourself, you piece of shit!” She turned, spotting a trio of rowdy drunks near a barrel, and stomped over, her bare feet slapping the floorboards. “Hey, do you know any gossip?” she demanded, leaning in close, her skimpy outfit drawing leers from the group, their eyes lingering on her exposed midriff and tattoo.

The leader of the group grinned widely, looking around the bar. “Hey yourself, little missy. I might know something,” his smile grew wider. “I might let you in on it if you sit that pretty ass on my lap. I love what you’re wearing.” He patted his lap like someone would do for a pet.

Skye grimaced, shaking her pigtailed blonde-haired head. “Fuck off,” she spat back at him before turning around, leaving the group behind and scurrying away from Zane.

Zane snorted at the exchange, his heels clicking as he turned toward the bar, recognizing the familiar layout of The Hogs Head from his old hustling days. The conman approached the counter where a broad barman with a scruffy beard was pouring ale into a dented mug, and he leaned forward, his G-cup breasts catching the light. “Hey, man, anything strange happening around here lately?” he asked. Zane had played this game before and knew the person most likely to know all the secrets was the barman. He didn’t recognize this man, though; he must be new.

The man looked up, his eyes fixing on Zane’s chest as he grinned, showing crooked teeth as he knocked Zane off guard. “You’re a fine piece, huh? What’s a beauty like you want with gossip when we could have some fun, just the two of us, eh?” He winked, ignoring the question, his hand hovering near Zane’s elbow.

Zane’s stomach turned, his skin crawling as the barman’s gaze lingered on his lips. “Piss off, you creep,” he snapped, pulling back from the counter, his voice sharp with revulsion. Did the asshole not see that the conman was a man through and through? The transformed man turned away, his high heels clicking as he scanned the tavern, determined to find someone else. He spotted two women laughing over mugs of red wine at a nearby table and approached them, forcing a smile. “Ladies, mind if I settle in?” he asked, slipping onto the seat beside them, hoping his old charm could still work.

The women burst into giggles, one choking on her wine as she eyed his G-cup breasts and pouty lips. “Settle in? With those tits and that mouth?” one woman cackled, her friend joining in, their laughter sharp and mocking. “You look like a damn harlot, sweetie, what’s wrong with you?”

As Zane was struggling to use his old charm, Skye fared no better. She moved towards a wiry man sitting alone, his glass half-empty, and planted herself in front of him, her hands on her hips. “Has anyone come to you with any secrets lately?” she asked cryptically, her hazel eyes narrowing as he smirked, his gaze raking over her exposed skin.

“The word is that there is a tasty whore sitting directly across from me, and I’m happy to pay her three gold coins for an hour of her time,” he slurred, leaning closer, “How is that for a rumor, sweetheart?”

The blonde’s jaw tightened, and she grabbed his collar, yanking him forward. “Talk to me like that again, and I’ll break your fucking face,” she snarled, shoving him back into his chair.

Zane stood from the women’s table, his face burning as they laughed at him. “Fuck this,” he muttered. The dark-haired conman scanned the tavern again, spotting three women near a corner table, their heads bent over a deck of cards. He approached, forcing another grin that had always worked in the past. “Hey, girls, heard any good rumors lately?” he asked, moving straight to the point.

The card players looked up, one snorting as her eyes flicked to his chest. “Rumors? Have you seen your tits?” she laughed, her companions joining in, their cackles piercing. “You’re a walking joke, doll. Go bother someone else,” she teased, waving him off like a fly. Zane’s fists clenched, his heels clicking as he backed away, his pride shredded.

Zane trudged back to the counter, his high heels clicking, and forced a tight smile, his stomach roiling. “Alright, you win,” he said dejectedly, his voice low and strained. “I need the dirt. So what do you want?”

The barman grinned wider, his crooked teeth glinting as he stepped closer; his breath was sour, as if he hadn’t brushed his teeth in weeks. “Just a little kiss, pretty girl, right here,” he purred, tapping his lips with a thick finger, his eyes locked on Zane’s pouty mouth. “Gimme that, and I’ll spill the real dirt.”

Zane’s throat tightened, and his skin crawled. Could he really kiss this man to win the challenge? He swallowed hard, having already made up his mind. “Fine, just one kiss.” The conman said as he leaned in, his eyes squeezing shut as the barman’s rough lips pressed against his, wet and clumsy, the sour stench flooding his nose. Strangely, Zane found his lips tingle with a dull pleasure as their lips met. He pulled back fast, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, his stomach lurching. “Now talk,” he growled, his brown eyes blazing.

The barman licked his lips, his grin widening as he leaned back against the counter, clearly savoring the moment. “Mmmm, it was worth it,” he muttered. He then lowered his voice into a hushed whisper. “The word around here is, that big-shot politician, Councilor Rennick, got caught fuckin’ his maid. His wife found out, and hexed the maid into a drooling slut. Last I heard, she’s now down in the slums, suckin’ cocks for a silver coin a go.” He chuckled, wiping his hands on a rag. “That’s the latest rumor I heard.”

Zane froze as the barman’s words sank in, a sly grin spreading across his slutty looking face; his brown eyes widened with triumph despite the sour taste still clinging to his lips. He straightened up and stepped back, wiping his mouth one last time; he knew the rumor; that had to be it. The challenge was over.

Skye was stood at a table, her bare feet planted on the sticky floorboards, arguing with a sweaty teen whose pimply face glistened under the tavern’s dim light. “You’re full of shit,” she snapped, slamming her fist on the table, her hazel eyes blazing as the kid smirked, his mug sloshing ale. “That’s not the damn rumor! Now me the real secret, you little prick, or I’ll—”

Her words cut off as the choker around her neck suddenly buzzed with heat, a sharp jolt vibrating through her throat mid-sentence. The blonde’s hands flew to her neck, her eyes widening in panic, and she gasped, “What the fuck—” She exclaimed, her voice breaking an octave higher than her usual demanding pitch. “What’s going on?” That voice echoed into an even higher-pitched soprano. She sounds like a damn cartoon character. But the choker wasn’t done yet.

Skye’s voice pitched higher still, warping into a full-on valley-girl squeal as the choker’s buzz faded, locking the transformation in place. “Like, what the heck just happened?” she asked in confusion.

The sweaty teen blinked, then burst into laughter, beer spilling from his mug as he clutched his stomach, his pimply face turning red. “Holy fuck, you sound like a doll!” he cackled, pointing at her with a trembling hand.

Skye’s eyes widened as her new voice sank in, realization hitting her like a punch—she’d lost the challenge; Zane had won. The blonde’s freckled face twisted with fury, and she spun away from the sweaty teen; his chuckling faded as she stomped toward the bar. She spotted Zane smugly, watching her approach the counter. She marched up to him, her pigtails bouncing with each step. “Like, you’re such a total asshole, Keller!” she squealed, her valley-girl dialect warping her rage into a ditzy whine, her hazel eyes blazing as she jabbed a jeweled nail at his chest. “I’m, like, gonna totally kill you for this, you total jerk!”

Zane laughed out loud. Watching the blonde with the valley-girl dialect approach him. “Wow, that’s just perfect,” he taunted. He crossed his arms, unfazed by her shove. The conman’s victory felt tainted by that kiss, but seeing Skye’s humiliation made it sweeter, and he leaned closer, his voice low. “You’re sounding less and less like the smart one by the minute.” He grinned.

The journalist’s fists clenched, her squeal rising as she shoved him again, her words fierce despite the bimbo lilt. “You’re, like, such a jerk, you slimy creep!” Even her insults sounded childish and immature. Zane parted his lips to pile on the insults when the world around him warped, and he suddenly found himself safely back in their shared home with the blonde journalist beside him.

Zane parted his impressive lips again to speak, but Skye interrupted him. “Like, don’t!” She demanded before turning around and storming off to her room. Zane grinned, spotting the tattoo on her lower back as she scurried away. She really should have accepted his truce.

❖

Skye kept herself locked inside her room all night and into the evening of the following day. Eventually, however, she needed to eat something. The blonde journalist stomped down the creaking stairs, her feet thudding on each step as she emerged from her room and back into the main living area. She had ordered pizza, and the delivery boy was due to arrive at any minute. “Ughh, like, I’m so totally starving,” she cooed out, grimacing at her new dialect.

Zane sprawled on the couch, his locked-on heels dangling over the armrest, flipping through a comic book. The transformed man glanced up as Skye stomped in, his brown eyes glinting with mischief, and he smirked, setting the book aside. “Like, about time you showed up, princess,” he mocked, his voice dripping with amusement as he mimicked her dialect perfectly.

Skye glared at her rival when a sharp knock at the door echoed around the room. The newly blonde journalist stepped up to the front door and yanked it open, revealing a gangly pizza man with a greasy cap. “Like, hi there! Is that, like, my pizza?” she squealed, her valley-girl tone making him pause, then grinned widely.

“Uh, yeah, twenty bucks,” he replied, staring at the scantily clad woman. He handed over the box, his eyes lingering on the revealing body. Skye noticed his leering eyes and urgently handed him the cash. “Like, keep the change, ‘kay?” she chirped before slamming the door shut, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

Zane swung his legs off the couch, still unsteady on his heels as he stood, his smirk widening. “What a performance, bimbo,” he taunted, savoring her embarrassment. “That poor kid is going to tell all his mates about the ditz that totally flirted with him.” He crossed his arms in triumphant delight, his own arms resting just below his massive chest.

Skye groaned and shuffled to the table, dropping the pizza box with a thud. “Like, shut your dumb face,” she snapped, her valley-girl lilt softening the bite as she flipped open the lid, grabbing a slice of pepperoni. The woman bit into it and chewed angrily. She was starving, and she wouldn’t need to speak like a damn fool if her mouth was full.

Zane laughed and turned his attention away from his hated rival, heading back towards his sofa. However, before he could take a seat, his choker came to life, buzzing with a familiar heat. His eyes widened, and his hands instinctively tugged at the collar. The random transformation began to take effect, and there was nothing the busty man could do about it.

He felt a tickling sensation race across almost every inch of his skin, save for his head. One by one, the hair on his arms, chest, pubic area, legs, and even his face fell from his body and landed on the hardwood floor. Even his eyebrows weren’t saved as they too detached from the now hairless man’s body.

Zane absently ran his hand over his bare arm and shuddered. Not only was his skin silky smooth, but it also felt incredibly soothing and sensitive as he traced his finger along it. The man stared at Skye before a prickling pain hit him directly above the eyes. Unaware of what was occurring, the conman ran to the nearest wall mirror and stared in horror. His dark eyebrows were being replaced; a pencil-thin, dark, highly-curved arch had been tattooed above each eye, giving him a perpetually surprised and hyper-feminine facial expression.

Skye giggled in her new sexy soprano, swallowing her bite as she stared at Zane’s reflection. “Like, who’s the bimbo now?” She asked, noting the irony in how she asked the question.

Zane ignored her, too focused on his own ridiculous expression, his bare hands rubbing his soft, smooth forearm. Before he could let his new transformation sink in, he felt the choker buzz to life again. This time, Skye appeared to suffer the same fate.

“Like, what the heck?” Skye cooed again, staring down at her feet with a slice of pizza in her hand. Her bare feet were now magically adorned with pink glittery 7” stiletto heels with a 3” platform. They were more suited to a strip club than inside the home. Zane’s own high heels were replaced by matching monstrosities, colored red this time, and he stumbled forward as he adjusted to his new height.

“Are you ready for the next challenge, my pets?” The amused ramblings of Darius Vance echoed in the pair’s ears moments before they found themselves transports once again. Zane shuddered as he felt the cool air breeze against his sensitive skin. They were back on the Ebonreach streets. What the hell did this psychopath have up his sleeve this time?

❖

Skye teetered unsteadily as her pink glittery 7-inch platform stilettos hit the cracked Ebonreach sidewalk, her arms flailing to catch a nearby signpost. The blonde’s pigtails bounced as she steadied herself, her jeweled nails gripping the metal, and she squealed, “Like, what’s this dumb game now?!” Her hazel eyes darted over the bustling crowd, passersby throwing weird looks at her over-the-top slutty outfit.

Zane lurched beside her, his own red stilettos replacing the old heels he obtained in the dollhouse, nearly toppling him into a street vendor’s stall. The conman grabbed a cart edge, his smooth, hairless arms trembling, and snarled, “Fuck these things!”

His impressive breasts strained against his minidress, allowing the street vendor a long, predatory look at his mammaries. “You can fall into my cart any time, sweetcheeks,” the man crudely said. Zane narrowed his eyes, but the perpetually surprised expression elicited a wider grin from the vendor. Zane turned around to find Skye leaning against a post nearby.

As Zane approached his rival, the puppet master’s voice slid into their ears tauntingly. “Are you ready for challenge six, my lovely puppets? We are going to have a beautiful race.” The warlock’s amusement curled around his words, and Skye’s fists tightened, once again stabbing herself with her long pink nails. “There’s a finish line two miles ahead, a red banner on Crescent Street, and the first one there wins. The loser gets… well, you know what happens when you lose.” He chuckled, “There’s no gimmick here; just run and get there first.”

Skye glared at Zane, her valley-girl squeal defiant. “Like, I’m not doing this stupid race! He can kiss my butt.” She crossed her arms, planting her heels firmly, but Zane’s eyes flicked to the crowd, his frustration boiling over.

“Fuck it, you’re right. If we both refuse to participate, there won’t be a winner,” he muttered. Zane glanced around to check out where they were exactly; they still needed to find their way home. Just as the conman was about to totter forward, he felt a sudden buzz in his collar, warning him of the potential dangers of disobeying the puppet master.

The man sighed. He didn’t want any further punishments. “On second thoughts,” he said before shoving Skye backward. The extreme height of the heels gave her no chance of regaining her balance, and she fell directly on her ass. Zane turned in the opposite direction and ran as fast as the platform stilettos would allow as the race began.

As Zane took off, Skye scrambled to her feet, her heels clicking against the concrete as she struggled to stand. “Like, you total jerk!” She cursed, her cheeks flushing with humiliation at the forced valley girl dialect. She placed one foot in front of the other, keeping her hands at her side for balance. It had been years since she was forced to wear high heels. Throughout her teenage years, her mother forced Skye to attend pageant after pageant, a ‘hobby’ at which she became pretty good at. All those years in frilly dresses and high heels had pushed her away from the feminine archetype. Still, the practice came in useful right now as she slowly gained on her backstabbing rival.

Skye noticed the scantily clad, busty man a block ahead. He stuck out like a sore thumb, struggling to stay upright in his tall heels. She noticed him fending off a greasy, middle-aged man as the public became increasingly aware of their plight.

“Get the fuck away from me!” Zane bit back at the random stranger asking to sample his plump lips. ‘What the fuck is wrong with these people?’ he thought to himself. Pushing the man away, he stumbled at the halfway marker, not daring to look behind him.

The blonde journalist ignored the stares from the perverted men around her and focused on her sexy walk. Her cheeks blushed with humiliation, but with a hand on her hip, she began taking lengthier, more confident strides until she had practically caught up with the stumbling conman.

Zane noticed the blonde hair and sparkly pink outfit of his competitor in the corner of his eye, approaching him with haste. As the bimbofied journalist attempted to overtake him, Zane made one last attempt to knock her off course by lunging forward and tripping her over. Unfortunately, he stumbled on his own high-heeled feet and fell directly on his oversized breasts.

Skye grinned as she watched the dark-haired man fall on his face, eliciting laughs and ridicule from the public before she turned her head and focused on the task at hand; she could see the finish line in the distance.

The fiery blonde’s heel clacked faster, her old pageant drills helping her balance and poise. She distanced herself from Zane, her strides long and steady despite the towering pink stilettos on her feet. Pedestrians continued to glance curiously, their eyes flickering to her footwear and ridiculous outfit. Still, they stepped aside, offering only weird looks as she powered towards the red banner flapping on Crescent Street.

Zane scrambled up, his hairless, smooth skin flushed as he staggered forward, his heels unsteady with each step. His ankles were killing him, and he knew the distance between the pair was too great. “Fuck, no!” He screamed, still soldiering on despite the imminent defeat.

Skye crossed the finish line with her arms triumphantly in the air. Her feet were in agony, but she had won the challenge and escaped the forfeit.

Ten minutes later, Zane crossed the finish line in second place. The feminized man shook his head, “You bitch! How was that a fair challenge?” He shouted. “You’re a little slut. You’re used to walking in these damn things!” He challenged.

Skye giggled. “Ohh yea?” She taunted. “Like, I wonder what’s gonna happen to you next?” She couldn’t hide her satisfaction as Zane’s choker began to warm up and start the transformation.

At first, Skye hadn’t noticed any alterations, but she soon discovered Zane’s altered posture. His entire presentation and gait were more pronounced and feminine, his G-cup chest thrust forward, and his ass stuck out.

“Aghhh, fuck!” Zane cried out, staring down at his feet. You couldn’t tell immediately, but his Achilles tendons had shortened, keeping him permanently on his tiptoes. If he ever wanted to walk comfortably again, he would have to walk in high heels.

Skye giggled. “Oh em gee! You’re totally showing off your girls,” she covered her mouth. Even in her elation, Skye was humiliated by her bimbo tone.

“Congratulations, Skye.” Darius Vance’s voice took both contestants by surprise. “Zane has been fitted with a new forfeit. I have tightened his tendons and given him a permanent catwalk posture and walk. If only you had that before the challenge,” the man taunted Zane.

Zane parted his big lips to retort, but the puppet master cut him off. “With Zane’s new condition and Skye’s secret skills, I think it would do you both good if you kept wearing these shoes throughout the competition.” The pair shook their head, but their collars began to vibrate, and before they knew it, small silver padlocks appeared on the buckles of each of their shoes. They were now trapped in 7” platform stilettos. “Have a good day. I will return shortly for your next challenge.” The man’s chuckle could be heard as his voice faded from their ears.

Skye bent her knees and lowered herself, pulling hopelessly at the buckle, but they were bound in place. She was stuck in the slutty shoes. The journalist gritted her teeth and stared up at the sky as if she were condemning an all-powerful being. Zane parted his lips to complain, but Skye didn’t want to hear it. “Like, just don’t!” She purred before turning around and heading back towards their safehouse, her heels clacking invitingly with every step.

❖

Skye trudged through the safehouse door, her pink 7-inch stilettos clacking wearily on the hardwood, her feet and legs sore from the race, and all she wanted to do was head to bed and forget about the challenge. The blonde froze as the cool, damp air hit her bare skin; she knew something was wrong. It was early evening, and the room was dark and cold. Had someone turned the heating off? Furthermore, Skye’s hazel eyes widened at the sickening sight in the corner of the room. A long, rubber phallic object protruded from the wall, framed by the inside of a mask. A weird restraint with four entry points sat pinned on the floor beside it, and a silver metal spring hung off the wall below the dildo. ‘What the hell is this thing?’ She thought.

Zane strutted through the door shortly after her, his red stilettos clicking with his new slutty walk, keeping pace effortlessly thanks to his latest forfeit. The conman stopped, his smooth skin prickling in the chilly dark, and muttered, “What the fuck is this shit now?” His G-cup breasts thrust forward as he adjusted his posture, his eyebrow tattoos arching as he eyed the contraption. He wasn’t in the mood for another game so soon.

The pair looked bemusedly at each other when the puppet master’s voice rang in their ears again. “Welcome home, my pretty pets,” Darius said condescendingly. “The challenges have been fun and all, but I wanted to bring a little excitement to your downtown.” Skye and Zane felt their stomachs drop. “I have cut the electricity and connected it to that device you see before you. The only way to turn it all back on is for one of you to get into position and place that object down your throats.” He cackled smugly. “The only question is, which of you will fulfill the selfless act.”

Skye immediately spun towards Zane, her valley-girl tone squealing. “Like, I’m not touching that nasty thing; you do it!” She jabbed a finger at him, her freckled cheeks flushing with defiance.

Zane’s lips curled into a smirk, his strut swaying as he stepped closer. “No way, bimbo. We’ve already seen how skillful that mouth of yours is in the biker bar.” His voice was thick with mockery. “Besides, at least you can’t talk like a vapid whore when your mouth is filled.” He winked.

Skye’s eyes narrowed and blazed with fury. With one fell swoop, she swung her platform-heeled foot from under the man and tripped him up. Zane crashed to the floor with a grunt, and before he could react, the fiery blonde lunged on top of him and squeezed the feminized man’s sensitive nipples before pinning his hands to the floor.

Zane gasped in a surreal mixture of pain and pleasure before he attempted to fight back. The blonde dug her nails into his wrists, but his superior strength started to show as he began to overpower the bimbofied woman. With one determined act, he rolled over and found himself on top of Skye’s torso, pinning her to the floor, his huge tits pressed against her face.

“You’ll pay for that, bitch!” He groaned, turning the woman round and pinning her arms behind her back, holding them in place with a single hand. He used his right hand to pull on both of her luscious pigtails and brought her to her feet.

Skye wriggled in defiance with every step. However, Zane’s power and new adeptness at walking in heels kept him stable, and he led the woman toward the sickening contraption. Pressing his knee into her bare knees, grinning as he saw the princess plug jewel glint from her ass, the feminized man soon had his rival’s ankles and wrists cuffed, leaving her helpless in a kneeling position.

Zane tightly gripped the blonde’s pigtails and pushed her lips against the pink, plastic dildo protruding from the wall. Skye furiously kept her mouth sealed shit, withstanding his pressure as she fought in futility against the metal shackle keeping her on her knees. The conman proceeded to push her against the dildo and squeeze her nose simultaneously. Skye could only hold her breath for so long and eventually relented, taking a deep breath and finding herself with a mouth full of plastic cock. Zane swiftly attached the spring to her collar before letting go and taking a step back, admiring his work. “How does it taste, slut?” He chuckled to himself.

Skye gagged, her muffled cries vibrating against the dildo as she yanked back, her cuffed wrists straining uselessly. Her fight against the spring ended as it snapped her forward, pressing her face into the mask’s hollow. Suddenly and without warning, Skye felt tiny pinpricks all over her face as the mask revealed its sadistic intent. It was fitted with tiny tattoo instruments designed to enhance its wearer’s face with permanent makeup.

Skye’s muffled squeals grew desperate, her body writhing in the cuffs as the tiny tattoo pens danced across her face, etching indelible color. A slick, glossy pink bloomed on the blonde’s lips, sealing them in a lurid shine, while her cheeks began to flush with a soft, rosy pink, the needles weaving a blush that entirely covered up her freckles. The journalist’s eyelids twitched as pink eyeshadow layered on, framed by sharp, black eyeliner that contrasted against the feminine color. Permanent mascara thickened, lengthening her lashes in an exaggerated, bimbo manner, curling them dramatically.

The trapped woman pulled back, stifling another gag, but the spring’s cruel tug slammed her face back into the mask, each prick singer deeper and solidifying her new appearance. The dildo softly vibrated deep down her throat, numbing the woman’s gag reflex more and more. Skye’s lips began to tingle as they inexplicably began to grow fuller. The pinpricks around her lips were mixed in with tiny syringes designed to inject into her lips, filling them up with permanent silicone. The longer she was trapped against the mask, the more noticeable her lips became.

Skye’s wrists strained, her ankles hopelessly pulled against the metal, but the cuffs kept her in place, kneeling and helpless as the spring pulled her forward once more. The pinpricks continued their work, painting her face into a permanent show of femininity and bimbohood. She continued to pull back, only to snap back, the mask’s needles completing another stroke of glossy pink.

Zane stared down at his nemesis and chuckled. That could have been him in that position. “I’ll leave you to it, princess,” he taunted before heading over to the living room sofa, his hips swaying seductively with each motion. Her ‘selflessness’ had brought the lights back on. Zane turned on the TV, crashing on the sofa, propping his red stilettos up on the coffee table, his bare, smooth skin gleaming against the light. He grinned, knowing his victory wouldn’t last forever, but for now, he could enjoy it.

❖

Zane jolted awake on the safehouse living room couch, stretching his smooth arms, his red stilettos steadying on the floor; he had fallen asleep as he watched TV. His eyes suddenly widened, a curse slipping from his pouty lips as he remembered Skye, still trapped in the contraption. The conman scrambled up, his slutty strut swaying, and raced to the corner of the room, where the blonde knelt, cuffed and silent.

He unclipped the spring from her choker, stepping back as the blonde slumped back. Her face a shocking, bright bimbo caricature: glossy pink lips, huge and glistening, slightly larger than his own, framed a lurid pout; pink blush smothered her cheeks; pink eyeshadow coated her lids, edged by stark black eyeliner; and long, dark lashes curled dramatically as if she had used an entire container of mascara.

Skye immediately pulled the dildo from her mouth, her gag reflex now a thing of the past, and lunged back to her feet. Her valley-girl squeal exploded at her rival, “Like, you total fucking jerk, you left me stuck there forever!” Her hazel eyes flared with rage, but Zane stifled a laugh. The journalist’s garishly bright makeup twisted her fury into a cartoonish tantrum, and her massive lips quivered into a petulant pout. She looked ridiculous and sexy.

Zane’s smirk widened, his eyebrow tattoos arching wider. “Damn, Skye, you’re a walking doll now,” he taunted with amusement. “Those lips belong around my c-” He paused as his hand traced down to her own chastised manhood. Perhaps that was the wrong analogy.

Skye’s fists clenched, her jeweled nails biting her palms, when Darius Vance’s voice boomed in their ears once again. There was no rest for the wicked. “Charming, but save your energy, my pets; it’s time for your penultimate challenge.” The warlock’s glee stifled their spat, his words reminding them that this torture was coming to an end. Before they could interpret his words, the safehouse dissolved in a blinding flash, replaced by a stage in the middle of an Ebonreach public square, a busy crowd looking at the pair with predatory glances.

Skye looked down and noticed that she stood stark naked, her ruby choker still tightly bound around her neck, pink 7-inch stilettos locked on her feet, a pink ball gag once again muffling her protests, and a new tiny butt plug pressing inside her rear, replacing the larger princess-jeweled one. Her bare skin prickled with exposure, her expanded lips and garish makeup drawing lustful leers from the crowd below the wooden stage.

Zane mirrored her, stripped bare except for his choker, red stilettos, a red ball gag silencing him, and an identical small plug shifting within. His smooth, hairless body was exposed for the amused audience to enjoy. The con artist’s mammoth fake G-cup breasts and chastity cage were entirely on display, eliciting hungry stares from the rowdy crowd.

The auction master, a thin, wiry man in a garish purple velvet coat, strutted onto the stage with the confidence of a showman. His voice boomed around the square. “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Ebonreach’s grand charity auction!” The crowd cheered. “Tonight, we offer two exquisite prizes. Bid high for a night with one of these two beauties!” He looked the gagged pair up and down, “and what a tasty treat we have.”

Zane shook his gagged head and tottered towards the edge of the stage, but a small shackle attached to his left ankle and bolted to the stage prevented him from moving too far. Skye was packaged with the same restraint.

The cheers from the crowd dimmed as Darius’s voice whispered in their ears tauntingly. “Isn’t this a special evening, my toys? One of you will be auctioned off for the night.” Skye’s gagged squeal mingled with Zane’s muffled grunt, and their eyes scanned each other helplessly. Darius continued, “Each bid you receive will inflate your plug, and your ass with it. The highest bid loses the challenge and will spend the evening with the winning bidder. Fun, right?” The warlock chuckled as Skye shuddered. She hoped he wasn’t serious but already knew that he was.

A sweaty college kid raised his hand, shouting, “Fifty gold for the pretty blonde!” Suddenly, Skye’s plug buzzed, swelling briefly inside her ass before a tingling jolt stretched her ass wider. The blonde bit against the large gag, her hands moving to her bare cheeks. How could these assholes be complicit in this, she thought.

A burly leather-clad man, his beard thick and matted, bellowed from the other side of the square, “Sixty gold for the one with the tits!” Zane’s plug flared, inflating with a sudden buzz, and his ass swelled to match Skye’s, the tingling jolt forcing a muffled grunt through his red gag. The crowd cheered as they witnessed the alteration.

The bidding war surged, each shout forming a knot in the pair’s stomach. A merchant called, “Eighty gold for the girl with the pink makeup!” and Skye’s plug pulsed, swelling further, her ass rounding out, the expansion sending a shiver through her naked frame. Zane’s plug buzzed at “Ninety for the one with the red gag!” from a high society woman wearing all-black. Zane’s rear was bloated, and both contestants could do nothing as they were auctioned off.

The bids climbed relentlessly, and the rivaling pair found their asses swell until they looked round and fake-looking. With each rising bid, more and more members of the crowd bowed out until, eventually, there was a bidding war between the pimply college kid and the leather-vested man, tussling over the rights to an evening with their chosen participant.

“230 gold coins for the pink bimbo,” the 18-year-old kid squealed, inflating Skye’s ass even further. She bit into her gag and wildly shook her head.

“250 gold coins for the caged slut,” came his competitor’s response, prompting further enhancement.

This continued until the bid reached 300 coins before the college kid came up with an audacious number that brought a shocked gasp across the park. “Five hundred gold coins for the blonde whore!” He squealed.

“Mmrpphhh!” Skye muffled out a protest and tottered forward, but her ass inflated further, almost doubling in size and giving her a pronounced slutty shape.

The high bid stunned the bearded leather-clad man into silence, and it took him a moment before he shook his head; he couldn’t compete with that. “500 gold coins. Going once, going twice…” The auction master announced, “…. And sold!” He declared, sealing Skye’s fate and cementing her loss.

The auction master gestured grandly, his velvet coat swishing as he turned to the college kid, his acne even more apparent as he approached the stage. “Step up, lad, claim your prize!” The crowd cheered as the kid bounded forward; his grin was wide and eager.

The auction master approached Skye and attached a silver leash to her choker before releasing the ankle cuff. He handed the leash to the bespectacled teenager. Skye’s pink ball gag stifled a frantic squeal, her hazel eyes wide with helpless rage as the young man tugged her leash.

“Give our big winner a round of applause,” the showman auction master declared to louder cheers from the remaining crowd. The college student ate it up and raised his fist to the group before tugging Skye’s new leash and leading her off the stage, still naked and gagged, her newly huge ass jutting behind her as she tried to keep up on her 7” heels.

Zane felt a wave of relief run over him. He felt a brief moment of pity for his rival, but it was better her than him, he thought, and she would have felt no such remorse if he was being led away. Eventually, everything blurred for Zane as he found himself back in the safe house, now gagless but suddenly wearing the same outfit he had worn before the challenge. Skye was nowhere to be seen, so the con artist headed to the kitchen to fix himself a meal and enjoy the evening alone.

❖

Skye stumbled as Carter, the pimply college kid who ‘purchased’ her, tugged her leash through the doorway of his cramped college dorm, her wide gag muffling the heavily made-up woman’s constant pleas, her massive ass swaying with each naked step.

As they entered the dorm, Skye shuddered at the sight. Five nerdy-looking young men were sitting around a large table in the middle of a roleplaying tabletop game. When a red-headed boy looked up at the sight with his jaw dropping, his friends followed suit. One by one, they all stood up and stared like they had just seen a woman for the first time.

“Hey, guys,” Carter said triumphantly. “Look what I bought.” He pulled Skye further into the dorm living room. “We’re gonna have some fun tonight.”

Carter grinned and reached for my pink ball gag, unfastening it with a tug and letting it hang loosely from her neck. The rubber popped free, the blonde’s huge lips pouting as she gasped.

Skye sucked in a breath and looked over towards the dorm front door as Carter removed her leash. “I’m not staying here with you freaks!” she had intended to say, but her valley-girl squeal was twisted into something else entirely, bubbling out in a humiliating chirp. “Like, I’m totally super excited to play with you guys tonight!” Her hands flew to her massive lips, muffling a shocked gasp as Darius’s magic warped her words.

Discovering her danger, she turned and bolted towards the front door. “Stop!” She heard Carter command. In an instant, Skye found herself frozen, unable to take another step closer. Her forfeit for losing the challenge became apparent: she was compelled to obey the boy’s every command for the night. The compulsion would stay in place until the sun rose the following day.

Carter grinned and stepped up to the frozen naked woman. “Let’s take care of that plug,” he taunted, dropping to one knee and slowly pulling on the base of the invading rubber instrument. He fought against the massive plug inside her, twisting it as it slowly began to ease away. Skye gritted her teeth, feeling the colossal item spread her ass cheeks dramatically. With a loud pop, the plug eventually found its way out of her orifice, her asshole gaping to the group of nerds.

Carter tossed the plug aside, its weight thudded on the plush carpet, and stood up. He looked over the bimbofied blonde he had just purchased. “Bend over the table,” he ordered, and Skye’s body immediately obeyed. Darius’s compulsion magic forced her to step up to the table and lean forward, her manicured hands gripping the table’s edge, knocking dice and game cards onto the floor. Her newly enhanced ass jutted out proudly as the woman positioned herself perfectly for the six sweaty college kids.

Michael, a lanky student with braces, confidently stepped forward, his hands fumbling as he unzipped his jeans. “Me first,” he muttered eagerly before grabbing Skye’s pigtails like a pair of handlebars and pulling her face towards him. The woman’s lips parted under Vance’s magic, and the teen thrust into her mouth, her muffled squeals vibrating against his cock as he pushed himself all the way inside her. “Jesus, this bitch doesn’t even have a gag reflex,” he boasted before pushing himself in and out of her relaxed throat.

Carter smirked, stepping behind Skye, and noticed her ‘Community Property’ tattoo. “Hey, she really is built for this,” he laughed as his hands clutched her swollen hips.

“Keep her still,” he told the lanky teen as he unzipped, aligning himself up against her pussy. “This one’s mine,” he said, thrusting inside her, his pace matching his friend’s as they spit-roasted the blonde woman.

The others crowded around with hungry eyes, and one by one, they took turns. They instructed Skye’s hands to stroke them, keeping them hard constantly as they waited for their turn. A red-headed kid shoved his dick inside her mouth next, gripping her head as he quickly emptied inside her mouth, holding her head in place until she swallowed the load. Another man, his glasses fogging up as he waited nervously, pushed inside her pussy, his thrusts shaky but relentless, and he, too, emptied his load inside the fucked woman.

A chubby teen went one step further and claimed Skye’s gaping ass, stretching the hole further. Skye continued to stroke Carter, and the lanky kiss as another found himself between her plump, bright pink lips. A solitary tear ran down Skye’s cheek, although the permanence of the tattoos on her face ensured her makeup couldn’t run.

Carter took over inside Skye’s inviting ass, and the final man entered her mouth. Skye was exhausted but continued to mechanically stroke the six boys. As Carter grunted, cumming inside her asshole, and Skye tasted her third load, two more men came all over her back. She was a used mess, slouched over the table. The men pulled her off the table and rested her on the couch. It wasn’t long before the woman passed out from exhaustion. The boys high-fived and thanked Carter before they headed to their own respective rooms.

Skye’s eyes snapped open as dawn approached, her body aching as she stirred on the stained couch. Her compulsions were gone; her will belonged to her again, but her situation was no less dire. She wasn’t naked anymore, somehow finding herself back in the pink tube top and g-string she wore before the challenge began. The massive buttplug had found itself wedged inside her plump, enhanced ass, its very shift reminding her of the night before. She still wore the pink 7-inch stiletto platforms, with their padlocks intact, and the ruby choker still clung tightly around her neck.

The blonde glanced around, her heart racing. Standing up, she sneaked towards the dorm room door. She had no idea where Carter and his group of dorks were, and she had no intention of finding out. She gently opened the door before making her escape.

As she walked through the corridor, the huge plug made its presence known, shifting with every step. Early morning walkers stared at the blonde as she traipsed across the campus, back towards the safe house. Her heavily painted cheeks flushed with humiliation. There was just one more challenge left, and Skye was determined to fight her way to the end.

❖

Skye dejectedly trudged through the safehouse door, her tall heels clacking on the hardwood floor, her enormous plug shifting inside her rear. She was exhausted and prepared for the onslaught of gloating she was about to receive. Skye sighed and braced herself, expecting Zane to pounce with mockery over his auction win.

However, Zane didn’t look as victorious as the blonde expected. He smoothed out his tight red minidress and looked up at his rival, but his pouty lips stayed firmly closed.

Skye stepped forward and parted her own enhanced lips, her valley-girl squeal breaking the silence. “Like, go ahead, Zane. Rub it in; you totally won.” She crossed her arms, ready for his usual barbs.

Zane stood up, eyes shifting downwards as if he were avoiding her gaze. “Not this time,” he said, lacking his usual bite. He turned slightly, lifting the hem of his minidress to reveal his still-inflated ass, round and fake-looking from the challenge, along with the plug nestled deep between his cheeks. “This damn thing never went down after I won the challenge. That bastard cheated!”

Skye’s big lips parted, her squeal tinged with surprise. “Like, you’re stuck with that too?” She shifted uncomfortably; the sight of his plug made her very aware of her own.

The con artist nodded as he lowered the hem and smoothed out the dress. “Yea, Skye. Darius has been playing us against each other, but he wants us both to lose.” Zane took a deep breath. “That asshole will have some tricks up his sleeve for the final challenge. We need to work together if we are gonna get out of this with our lives intact.”

Skye shook her head. “Like, oh em gee! You’re asking me to trust you after everything you’ve done.” Her squeal was high-pitched and shrill, although the bimbo dialect made her fury sound absurd, memories of the biker bar and the dildo trap flashing through her mind. “You totally think I’ll believe anything you say now?”

Zane stepped closer with an awkward strut, his hands raised in a rare gesture of sincerity. “I get it. I screwed you over,” he admitted, the silver tongue stud in his mouth reflecting as he spoke. “But look at us; we’re both freaks.” He looked the blonde bimbo up and down. “That son of a bitch isn’t playing fair, and alone, we’re done for. Together, maybe we’ve got a shot.”

The pigtailed blonde glanced down, shaking her head. She hated the man across from her, but he was right. “Like, you’re a total jerk,” she spat out. “But you’re right. We totally need to work together.” The words sounded like chalk in her mouth. She didn’t trust the slimy conman, but working with him was her best shot at surviving the final challenge.

Zane’s plump lips curved faintly as he looked at his bimbofied nemesis’s heavily made-up face. He extended a hand. “Let’s beat this together.”

Skye softly bit her bright pink lower lip. She felt uneasy, but she didn’t have much of a choice. “Like, okay, fine,” she chirped, gripping the man’s hand as they formed a pact. “But you totally betray me again, and I’ll, like, end you!”

Zane struggled to hold in his grin after gripping his rival’s hand. The final challenge, Transformation Track, would test them to their very limits, and their cooperation could be the key to their survival.

End of Chapter Two