Do You Want to be an Amazon?

"Welcome to tonight's episode of 'Do You Want to be an Amazon!'" Tiffany Innuendacock greeted the audience, who practically rocked the rafters with eager cheering and clapping. The nearly three meter tall Amazon was all muscle and curves. She was dressed like she always was, in a formal shirt and jacket, straining to contain her gender appropriate breast and biceps, and a too small loincloth, struggling to contain her massive endowment, balancing on a pair of stiletto heels that gave her ass a boost past bouncy and into earthquake prone. "And let's meet today's contestant, Garth."

The stage lights pivoted to point at the middle aged man sitting perched on a too tall stool, wearing the same outfit as Tiffany, though it certainly wasn't nearly as flattering.

"So, why are you here tonight, Garth?" Tiffany asked, sliding back into her stool, her built and flowing form contrasting with the painfully ordinary smaller man.

"Well, erm... my wife, Dorthy, and I were hoping to... use the money to help pay off some debts..." Garth said, compressing weeks of arguing, worry, and slowly evaporating alternatives into one line.

"And how does Dorthy feel about you being on here?" Tiffany asked, looking at him in mock concern.

"Well, she applied too..."

"That's a good start." Tiffany agreed.

"And she's in the audience." Garth continued, smiling a bit, looking into the crowd. His face fell.

"Sorry honey, we stopped allowing spouses in the same room after last season. She'll be watching from our VIP booth." Tiffany said, not entirely unkindly, pointing to the darkened room set above the main seating. The lights turned on, revealing a plainly worried woman about the same age as Garth. They waved to each other. One of the four Amazon Warriors in the room blew a kiss down at Garth, while a Servant brought around a drinks tray, their mass of tits and ass wobbling across the audience's screen's to general applause.

"Alright, how much money do you two need?"

"Erm... all of it... I'm going to go for all of it."

"All ten rounds? My, I can't wait to see what you look like at the other end. I only managed seven before getting too distracted to continue." Tiffany said, raising an eyebrow. "Still, I'm sure whatever happens will open up a wealth of new job opportunities."

Garth blushed. She wasn't kidding. Some people managed to only go a few rounds, escaping with "just" a new gender, and an extensive makeup routine to look like their old selves. The changes got more extreme as the show went on, a decade's worth of normally carefully controlled and dialed in mutagenic extracts added to a person's body in such a short time tended to produce... excessive outcomes. Sure, anyone could go out and buy a cum energy drink to grow or shrink a bit, but a full fledged pure strain transformation was pretty rare, especially given how ancestry could interact and push someone more aggressively than desired. Most people didn't risk it after college, and usually let any changes revert. Maybe with a splurge for special moments.

Still, Garth did some exploration, he'd even enjoyed it with his wife on their honeymoon, but... a little extra endurance and length was nothing like what was showing off in front of him right now. The head that hung past the loincloth easily was larger than his fear shrunken junk, and he didn't even want to think about how much smaller he was when both were hard.

Tiffany stood up and rolled her shoulders, highlighting her mutagen started and gym perfected frame, causing the specially reinforced stage to complain slightly at the nearly quarter ton of weight gracefully dancing around the edges, delighting in her watermelon sized boobs, her bright red hair, grapefruit sized balls, and constantly half aroused member that poured off enough pheromones to make the front few rows a splash zone.

Garth took a deep breath, said pheromones not helping to calm down his racing heart. There were only a few rounds that he needed to get absolutely right. Then he might be able to have a mostly normal life with Dorthy. But no matter what happened, she would be safe.

"Alright Garth, if you're ready, come over to the chair, where our technicians will get you set up." Tiffany said, leaning on the large padded seat, injectors prepped for the next contestant. Two masked people waited next to it, as her member hardened a tad, pushing fist sized head entirely past the end of the loincloth. Yeah, it was very easily larger than his junk, even as the pheromones slowly pushed it more towards normal size.

Garth swallowed and got up, trying to balance on the same shoes, tottering towards the chair, entirely aware that everyone could see his rear.

The two technicians had already prepped him ahead of the show, and it was a moment before the tubes were hooked up near his kidneys. He shivered as a slow current of cold began to spread from the injection points; a constant flow of saline and nutrients was entering his body to help with the later changes. Garth leaned back in the too large seat, trying not to kick his feet in nervous anticipation, still trying to keep his junk covered.

Tiffany waited until the medical staff gave the thumbs up. "Now, Garth," Tiffany began, and the entire crowd shouted with her. "Do you want to be an Amazon?" Garth nodded, dry mouthed.

"Then it's time to begin!" Tiffany said happily, sliding into her iconic stool with the third leg cutout. "As you know, there will be 10 questions. Answer them correctly, and you get to choose what change you'll get. Answer them wrong, and our eager audience will get to make their selection. Each question doubles your prize." She held up her data pad, and pressed a button. On the screens above, three options popped up. Servant, Citizen, Warrior. There was some loud tapping as people input their choice already. It was rarely Citizen. "What one are you hoping for?"

Garth tried to smile. "Warrior." He said. Of course he'd prefer Citizen, it was the only one that really let someone have a vaguely normal life, but trying to ask for that off that bat was just begging for trouble later. Even if he was normal sized, not being able to walk because of beanbag sized balls and boobs wasn't quite something he was willing to risk so quickly, and was practically guaranteed. And Servant had enough baggage even if he didn't get a rear as huge as the Servant passing out drinks in the VIP booth. He shook his head, trying to focus on the first question. I twas always about the origins of the Amazons, and usually had the same answer.

"Good choice. I know I've never regretted it." Tiffany laughed, leaning back and stretching, relishing the crowd's approval. "And onto the first question, which legendary figure first created the Amazon virus?"

"The Guiding Mother." Garth said reflexively, then slapped his forehead as he realized his mistake.

"Oof, looks like you already know the trick answer there. No, the Guiding Mother is who created Amazonia and bestowed the gift on her worshipers. The Needy Servant is who created the virus. And time for the vote." Garth slumped his head, annoyed that he'd already messed up, and on one of the more important questions. "And looks like you're in luck! Warrior. Have fun being able to lift boulders and crush trees with your thighs." Garth grinned weakly, sure he could shrink the height later... but warrior meant he was going to get a lot more extreme choices later, since they'd fit on his new frame, and those weren't something he would easily be able to fix. His normal-ish life was already rapidly slipping away.

Garth slumped against the seat, as he heard the systems in the chair come to life, and shivered as he felt the colder mutagen being pumped into his body. The cold feeling dissipated quickly, but he could feel his insides shifting, and his groin begin to heat up, his cock already starting to tent the loincloth. A moment later, the real capabilities of the chair were revealed, as a bolt of energy shot through his body.

He blinked, disoriented, and shifted his legs. Two unfamiliar folds of skin slid past each other. His new pussy.

"And with that you get your first cash prize. Plus a shipping container's worth of food as you grow over the next month. Can't have you ruining that cute outfit so quickly." Tiffany's grin widened. "You ready to continue?"

Garth crossed his legs, sending a spark of unfamiliar tingles up his spine, and nodded, trying not to react. Too much at least.

"Alright question two. Simple change, what hair color do you want?" Three options popped up on screen. Flaming Tresses, Blond Bombshell, and Couldn't Decide. "Whatever it is, it'll be a lot." Garth wasn't as concerned with this one, though Couldn't Decide seemed... to have bad connotations.

"Let's go with the classics, Blond Bombshell." He looked up at his thinning brown mop. "Hey, I've been looking for a baldness cure for a while." It got a chuckle from the audience. Not the most original line, but who doesn't like a good sport? The people hammering "Couldn't Decide" apparently. Garth couldn't remember what it was. Rainbow?

"Alright Garth. What is the median Amazon's penis length?"

"Warrior, or Amazon? And are you talking non-bome pressed?"

"Amazon, and bone pressed."

"That's... about normal then, right? Five to six inches?" Garth said, trying not to overthink the question.

"Well done! Contrary to most people's expectations the median Amazon is a citizen with a perfectly satisfactory 5.5 inches. The average is closer to 9, thanks to people like me." She tensed her already cut abs and her more than forearm length cock jumped.

Garth sighed in relief, as the machine started up behind him. Then that burst of energy. He blinked, his eyes suddenly obscured by thick blond hair, with a couple inches of his old color at the tips. He brushed the hair back behind his shoulders, and noticed that the back of his hands were hairless. Looking down, he could see the same around his bare legs and thighs.

"Looking good! Not everyone can pull off the blonde look, so let's see if your new face will match." The next three options popped up on screen. "Cocksucker, Primal, Girl Next Door." "What'll it be, Garth?"

Garth racked his memory. He thought that primal had fangs... and the thought sent a surge of blood into his groin. His legs pressed together and he tried not to gasp.

Tiffany grinned, and leaned in, stage whispering. "Yeah, us warriors usually have a power kink thing going on. We'll see how that affects your choices down the line." She winked. It would have felt sisterly, if not for the mic system and the catcalling from the crowd.

"Girl next door." He managed. Tiffany looked disappointed.

"Aww, pinning your wife underneath you as you bite her, marking her as yours... that's not what you want?" She shrugged, straining her shirt. "Oh well, can't account for taste."

The people who locked in Primal had already turned it into the majority.

"Alright, question 3. What percentage of the population is susceptible to Amazon cum addiction?" Tiffany asked. "Personally, I've found it's 100%, but we're talking clinical addiction."

"An estimated... 20%?"

"Good on you! Yes, approximately 20% of the population doesn't have enough Amazonian ancestry to be resistant to the physical dependency. About the same population considered at higher risk for alcoholism, though they're generally unrelated genes apparently." Tiffany said. And that same cold rush and zap.

Garth ran his tongue over his canine teeth regretfully, as his face heated up. He looked up at the cameras, and saw a cute face with long blond hair, exactly what you'd expect playing volleyball at the beach, still on a middle aged body. The difference was jarring.

"Now, let's even you out a bit. What type of warrior do you want to be?" Tiffany asked, apparently reading his mind. "Very Beary, Drill Sergeant's Wet Dream, Fun and Slippery!"

"Isn't Fun and Slippery a few questions away?"

Tiffany laughed with the crowd. "Yes, that can be an option there too." She said, waiting for him to make a choice.

Very Beary usually had issues fitting through doors. A Drill Sergeant's Wet Dream choice had once run a marathon while pulling a truck. Those thighs had to be annoying to deal with, and he didn't want to kill Dorothy. "Guess I'm going Fun and Slippery." Garth said, to general applause.

"Alright, what is the recommended daily calories consumed by a warrior?" Tiffany asked, glancing at a card, tapping her chin.

"Erm... baseline is... 2000.... I'm... guessing 10 times that? Your personality is at least 10 times as powerful as any other gameshow host." He grinned weakly, mind racing back to highschool biology.

Tiffany smiled. "I'm going to need a number."

"20,000 calories." Garth said.

"Correct! Depends on the specific strain, but about 20,000 is a good ballpark."

Garth breathed out heavily, relaxing into the chair, then cringed as cold flooded his body. He gasped loudly as the most intense changes hit to date.

He felt his stomach start to warm up, becoming nearly uncomfortable, then lighter, and he gasped as he felt his chest become heavier. He reflexively reached up, grabbing his expanding breasts, and shivered as his nipples sent their eager approval straight to his brain. Weight kept flowing, shifting from his middle to his chest, as he felt pressure against his legs, his ass slowly growing.

The chair held onto him for a moment, then the suction abruptly broke, as he slid forward, a sheen suddenly covering his body.

"Seriously? This is what Fun and Slippery means?" Garth complained, hefting his growing beasts, as droplets of sweat beaded between his mounds.

"Of course, and can I say that I am very much enjoying your new pheromones?" Tiffany said, eyelashes fluttering, as her dick jerked, a relaxed smile spreading over her face.

Garth blushed, as the changes continued, alternate waves of cold and hot spreading across his body, as he gained an hourglass figure, and he became slick with pheromone laced sweat. The crowd shouted their approval as he shrugged his way out of his jacket, chest straining the top few buttons of his previously fitted shirt.

Trying to ignore the discomfort, he took a deep breath, winced, popped the top two buttons, revealing a hint of cleavage, and nodded at Tiffany. "Alright, what's next?

"Question five, getting into the fun ones. Sizes! At least your male parts. Masturbatory ideal, bulging in all the right places, or 'It's average, ok?'" Tiffany said, pointing to rough estimates of how big each was. Masturbatory ideal was to the floor, bulging in all the right places was about her own size, and the last was something that probably wouldn't kill his wife.

"It's average, ok." Garth said firmly, to general booing.

Tiffany nodded, glancing up at the voting. Bulging in all the right places was winning, though not by much. "Alright, which sporting leagues can Amazons compete in?"

Garth blinked, confused. "Erm... Amazon exclusive leagues?" He finally managed, not even sure what the question was asking.

"Ouch, sorry, we're allowed in the open category, along with anyone else who uses certain performance enhancing substances. There's too much of a range of what defines an Amazon for an Amazon only league to really work." Tiffany seemed honestly apologetic. "Alright, lock in your votes. Though I will say that floor length cocks are pretty boring. Unless you have a harem of worshipers at least. You think you wife would allow that?" She asked.

Garth shook his head, and lay back, looking up at the bright lights of the studio.

A few moments later, the votes were locked in, and Garth was ready to never walk again. There was no way that Masturbatory Ideal wouldn't win.

The blast this time was hugely more intense, and the energy flowed across his body, concentrating in his dick and balls. It was too strange to be called pleasurable, a deep soothing burn, and he felt blood rush to his dick. And keep rushing. He felt his balls start to push against his thighs and he shivered again as his cockhead suddenly felt the cool air as it pushed past the hem of his loincloth. He blushed and tried to cover himself up, knowing that it would be futile, but the sensation of his sweat slick hand on his dick just made it angry.

His purple trouser snake was growing into an anaconda, hardening into a spire of meat thicker than his bicep and longer than his forearm. It felt strange, a rush that never quite faded, even as more and more blood poured in, slowly darkening, alternatively softening and hardening, inches of length and girth being added in front of his eyes. Garth stared, dumbstruck at the thing between his legs, heavy fist sized balls practically pumping testosterone straight into his brain. It kept swelling, seemingly adding an inch with every heartbeat, until the tingling slowly shifted, spreading inside, working on his sensitive glands and straining muscles. It hung proudly, easily reaching his mouth, leaking a steady stream of pre, as his new nearly lube like sweat set it glistening in the lights.

Tiffany walked over, her own cock hard and dripping, "Hey, we're cock sisters!" She said, running a finger along Garth's glans, her other hand playing with her piss slit. Garth managed to tear his eyes away from the marvel between his legs, and laughed, stunned. She wasn't wrong, their cocks did look about the same size, even if it was terrifyingly huge on his current frame.

The big difference was the shape. Garth's mushroom had flattened and widened into a trumpet shape, while Tiffany's was just inhumanly large but mostly human, with thick finger sized veins running up and down the shaft, the heavy foreskin slickly sliding over the purple head, begging for someone to peel it back and lick everything clean...

Garth shook his head, trying to ignore how attractive that felt. It had come on slowly, but... he really liked how Tiffany looked. She'd always been pretty hot before, but now... it was all of her...

He gulped and squirmed, crossing his legs by learned reflex, covering nothing. Still, it did one thing, it unintentionally applied just enough pressure to spend sparks across his eyes. His cock spat happily, coating his face with sweet smelling cum.

Tiffany grinned knowingly, and Garth felt an unfamiliar wetness between his legs, as her hard cock bobbed against her straining shirt. He leaned back, looking up at the TV. Bulging in all the Right Places had won by a hair. Huh, guess the crowd was filled with Tiffany simps.

"Now onto question six, boob and vagina size." she said, leaning back in her stool and spreading her legs, sending Garth's aching spire to new heights. "Of course, they're going to be big, need to fit shit like this womb crusher." She reached up and grabbed her shaft lightly. "This is just to talk about exactly how big." On the screen three more options popped up. Apple bottom, bag of holding, cowgirl.

"Not quite the most interesting variety. Though the last girl to get the bag of holding did manage to steal her stool. This one's just not the same." She pat the stool Garth had started on fondly. "Did you catch my episode?"

Garth swallowed and nodded. Tiffany loved recounting her episode as the first winner. The male presenter hadn't quite been willing to contest her taking his job, after she showed up to his changing room and demonstrated how much she loved her new body. Apparently he still hung around in the same changing room to relieve her during the commercial breaks. Tiffany brushed her hair back, and looked at the teleprompter.

"Ooh, look at the time, we have a commercial break coming up. Don't change your channel, we'll be right back!" Tiffany said, bouncing in place, strings of pre arcing through the air.

The screens' options were replaced with the word Applause, and the crowd went wild.