Do You Want to be an Amazon?

Then the stage lights dimmed and Tiffany dashed off stage, while the crowd started eagerly chatting among each other.

The two technicians and a medic walked up to Garth. "How are you doing?" The medic asked, checking Garth's eyes with a flashlight, other hand on his wrist. "Your heart rate seems... a bit high. But you don't seem to be in shock?"

"Bit strained." Garth admitted. "Maybe lightheaded."

"Alright, let's get a unit of blood in you." The medic said, and the technicians started messing with the chair. The injection lines ran red, and Garth chest stopped aching as much. "Feeling better?"

"A bit... not sure how I'm supposed to feel right now." He felt his eye being drawn towards the medic's chest, and felt his dick jolt back to full hardness. "Is this thing ever going to go down?" He complained.

The medic smiled. "Probably not for the rest of the show. Assuming that you don't cum onstage. We have a shower area if you want to use it before going home." Garth groaned and closed his eyes, waiting for the break to be over. Then he heard a pair of running high heels, and opened an eye.

A moment later Dorothy appeared in front of him, cheeks flushed from the run from the VIP room. "Erm... you... you're looking nice." She said, eyes unable to meet his.

The air rushed out of Garth in something like a laugh. "Well... it feels nice... sorry... I didn't... you know... keep it under control..." He said, his new libido drawing his eyes to her like he was in college again. Her carefully tended auburn locks, her well shaped legs, her perfect face with those kissable lips...

"Oh... I'm sure we'll work through it... We've always managed it before... And don't feel bad, I like the new you!" She said, a bit forcefully, her blush redoubling. "I don't think I'll mind a few of the bigger changes... so don't feel too worried about it."

Garth nodded, his cock straining, dripping pre, so close to his wonderful smelling mate. He inhaled deeply, head swimming with her.

"Erm... I might have... tried a pheromone potion... just for the ride home. Wanted to make sure that you'd feel comfortable..." Dorthy's eyes slowly ran up Garth's body. She darted over to him, and gave him a kiss, leaving a pleasant tingle, before hurrying offstage, presumably back up to the VIP room.

One of the technicians chuckled. "Looks like you've got someone horny for that stallionhood." He said, watching the stunned Garth feeling his cheek, suddenly transported back 25 years. He couldn't respond.

After a few more minutes of checks, the medic and technicians left the stage, and Tiffany briskly walked back to the stage, her cock sated, back to being poorly hidden beneath the loincloth. She crossed over to Garth. "You doing alright? Sorry if I'm being a bit aggressive, it's all part of the character."

Garth blinked, surprised. "Erm, I think I'm doing alright... just a bit overwhelmed."

Tiffany laughed. "Well, you're reacting better than I've seen. And a little spy's been saying that your wife is quite enjoying the scene, barely able to keep her hands out of her clothes."

Garth jaw dropped. "What? But she always seemed so taciturn whenever..."

"Well, not many people want to tell their husband that they want to get their wombs turned inside out by a huge amazon cock." She grinned. "My hubby didn't want to admit it until season 4."

Garth was stunned, and looked up at the VIP booth. The lights turned on inside, and he could see his wife with her legs tightly crossed, staring right at him.

"Huh..." He said, arousal warring with confusion. Maybe she wasn't just putting on a good show...

"You two will get along great." Tiffany said kindly, then bounced back to her seat, as a producer timed the show back on the air. The cheering began again, and Tiffany spun around towards a camera.

She began in a deeper more authoritative voice

"And before the break, we had just shown Garth the next set of choices." They popped up again. "And which one are you going for?"

Garth's eyes went a bit wide. None of them exactly sounded appealing. He'd been hoping for another "girl next door" type offering... "I guess I'll go with Cowgirl? My wife likes amazon milk, maybe she can enjoy both types."

Garth imagined he could hear a squeak from the soundproof room, while Tiffany winced from the sudden loud moan that echoed through her headset.

"Always wished my girls were milky. Apparently the orgasms are awesome." Tiffany agreed, slipping back into presenter mode in a fraction of a second. The audience rapidly keyed in their own choices. "And onto the question. During the first showing of this show, what was the physical task?"

"Erm..." Garth hesitated. Usually it was something pretty demeaning, but the contestant was pretty OK with it at that point. The early seasons tended to shy away from that type of stuff though... it tried to be more highbrow, helping people attain their ideal body. He'd watched Tiffany's episode just in case, but... he couldn't remember it... "I'm going to go with there wasn't one."

Tiffany laughed. "So close, it was officially not cumming on stage. Set before the show." Her grin widened. "An extra twenty five thousand, and I blew it by number five. Something about trying to keep the show respectable."

Garth groaned, and looked up. Fortunately the crowd had fallen in behind Tiffany, again, and cowgirl had won solidly. He heard the chair start up again, and felt the cold enter his body, as sweat broke out across his already shining form. Then the energy blast hit again, and he felt his shirt start to strain.

He winced as his nipples suddenly reported in, happily rubbing against his dress shirt, and eager for more pressure. The rest of his chest was happy to comply, and the shirt creaked as mass poured into his chest. He grunted as it started to force air out of his lungs, and he easily ripped the shirt apart, panting as his new palm overflowing breasts heaved, glistening in the studio lights.

Then he felt his chest tingle again, as they started to feel... tight and heavy? He looked down, and saw that his nipples were hardening and lengthening, as his chest swelled just a bit more, starting to point down. A few moments later, the growth seemed to finish, and he was left with a pair of heavy breasts, clearly filled with milk, the nipples nearly the length of the first joint of his middle finger. Then the growth shifted to his ass, starting to lift him off the chair as the final swell of strong padding filled out his hourglass, his eager tunnel sending a growing length of pleasure as new nerves knit together and pushed deeper. And deeper. His cock caught between his sweat slick breasts, and it dangled in his face, the heavy pheromones making his head swim.

He couldn't help but thrust, his heavy balls swinging, giving his lips and clit room to grow, and grow they did. Two heavy mounds pushed out, pressing into his thighs as he felt his clit swell against his balls. His new canal was still pushing up, clearly intent on being able to take anything, leaving him gasping and moaning, as the pleasure crashed into the sparks radiating from his cock.

He came, his new muscles clamping down on his massive prostate, his balls eagerly dumping out the last of his old sperm, and his slit squirting on the waterproof chair as he gasped and moaned eagerly, his hands pressing his breasts together as he welcomed each new cumshot, filling his head with warm cotton and sweetness. He could barely ride the wave of crashing pleasure, and conscious thought or suspicious destroyed by the mind shattering joy.

Almost a minute later, he finally recovered enough to realize he should feel embarrassed and looked up. He was nearly naked, the useless loincloth barely able to cover his new animistic sheath and huge balls, his shirt torn in two, breasts large enough that fitting them back inside was a fantasy, covered in cum, girlcum, and, as he sniffed at his hand and forearm, milk.

And he felt fucking amazing.

"How did you enjoy that, Garth?" Tiffany asked, her cock hard again, lust burning in her eyes.

"You feel that every time?" He asked, leaning back into the chair, feeling the heft of his new assets.

"Oh, it gets even better." Tiffany promised. "Onto number seven. Fluids, almost reasonable, sweet and flowing, or pride of the herd."

Garth eagerly said "Pride of the herd." Then blinked, remembering a conversation from before the show. "Erm... I mean..."

"Sorry Garth, first choice is locked in." Tiffany said in a sing song voice, as the crowd eagerly agreed with Garth's decision.

Garth was feeling a bit conflicted. Sure, there was the decisions he'd made before the show, before his wife felt bad for him, but sitting here, basically naked, his muscles and breasts already getting catcalls from the boys (and some of the girls), his cock getting appreciative stares from the girls (and some of the boys), knowing they were just going to fill out and become more impressive, it was stroking something primal. He was already regretting those fangs, now, he wanted to properly mark and breed his wife and make sure she was nearly as milky and fertile as he knew he was.

His cock was momentarily sated, but he could feel his balls eagerly trying to fill them for the next load. From what he remembered in from health class, his new sperm was nearly as impressive as the rest of him, tens of billions of them dedicated for weeks on end to try to fertilize an egg. He moaned, loudly enough for his mic to pick it up.

"Hey lover boy, you still have a few questions left." Tiffany admonished. "Did you catch that?"

Garth shook his head dumbly.

"Ok, what are the odds of a normal female getting giving birth from one of your ejaculations?"

Garth moaned again, definitely feeling the influence of his suddenly much more eager other head. He tried to refocus, and looked at Tiffany. "Well, this thing is saying 100%... but I want to say 50%?"

"Ooh, so close. About 45%, nearly 50% better than they used to be. But I think you're not exactly going to be unhappy with those results." Tiffany said, looking up at the TVs. Pride of the Herd had won by a county mile.

It was the same sensation as before, cold, then the heat of energy. This time though, there wasn't much physical change, just a slow steady heat that spread through his groin, flowing from his balls through his prostate, lingering on his lips and tunnel, before finishing in his breasts, digging into his new sore milk ducts. They twitched and jumped, becoming denser and more efficient, making new connections with blood vessels, and thickening their tubes, ready to deal with much much more volume than nature had ever intended.

Garth could only really feel the heat, but resolved to spend a very pleasurable afternoon staring at the show provided animations of what had happened to him. Still, he swore he could feel his balls starting to churn, their activity turned up to 11 and nailed there.

He looked up at Tiffany, eager for whatever they decided to give him this time.

"And that's where I made it before getting too distracted to continue. The results can still be watched on Pay Per View under the title 'Yes, I fucking love being an Amazon.' You still going for the grand prize?"

Garth nodded eagerly.

"Alright then, time for oh, a complex list of behaviors, attitudes, kinks, and relationships all bundled up into 'dominance'." Power Bottom, Yes, and Breeder popped onto the screen. The audience inputs were fairly spread, tending a bit towards Breeder. "And you would like?" Tiffany asked.

Garth's nipples were hard and leaking, he was sweating, swimming in a pheromonal haze, and his cock hardening until it was right there in front of his face, balls already eagerly begging to be emptied. He groaned. "Yes?" He asked, a bit confused, trying to focus on the huge amazon in front of him, his slit begging to be filled.

Tiffany smiled knowingly. "Alright, Yes is locked in. Now for the question. What's the world record for heaviest squat?"

Garth thought for a few moments. Then settled on the default. "That's a trick question?" He said, unable to hide the uncertain tilt, more than half his mind completely scattered.

Tiffany's grin widened. "Good guess. There's a lot of ways to measure it. We're going to need to get a judge call."

A moment passed. "The judges have accepted it." Tiffany said, then looked down at the producer.

The by now expected wave of cold and heat washed over Garth, but he didn't really notice much, other than his lust still growing, though that could have been from a number of factors. The audience was starting to flush, and occasional moans could be heard, as the camera crew tried to deal with sudden waves of arousal as his sweat glands worked overtime to get someone to fuck. They remained mostly professional, though the producer was on a call with Dorthy, asking what to do if Garth couldn't respond.

There was a terse conversation, and the producer wrote something on the board, before showing it to Tiffany. She read it and nodded.

"Garth, if you can't pay attention, you're going to need to pull out. You've got 1/4th of the final prize. You think you can make it to the end?"

Garth blinked and raised his head from where he'd been lapping at his own pre, thick shaft wedged between his breasts, heavy nipples dripping milk. "Fuck... yeah... need to win. Dorthy is counting on me."

He shook his head, and tried not to let anything touch each other too much, trying to spread his legs and let his cock fight against gravity.

"Alright, two more questions. Then you can relieve yourself for as long as you need." Tiffany said quietly, mic muted. Then turned it back on, and shifted back into her announcer voice. "Alright, we're definitely looking to see how much the switchy cowgirl herd master can pump out, but onto the next question. Number 9, potency. How powerful are your balls, tits, and pheromones going to be?"

Knock em' dead, a delicate bouquet, and pure force of personality appeared on the screens. Garth wasn't too familiar with these, most people pulled out before this point, the mental and... less overt physical changes were usually considered a bit creepy. Especially the stuff that could result in addiction, since it was pretty tightly controlled. Still... bouquet sounded nice...

"Heh, that sounds like a type of wine, let's go with delicate bouquet." Garth was trying not to look at Tiffany, just staring up in the air, his cock slowly drooping, trying to breath through his mouth. He could still taste the heavy musk of sex though... He shook his head, trying to refocus.

The crowd had mostly chosen Knock 'em Dead.

Tiffany nodded. "Alright, your next question, and saying it's a trick question won't work for this one. What's the oldest Amazon owned business?"

"Do the temples count as businesses?" Garth managed, pretty sure he knew the answer, and could say it in his sleep. It was one of the major tourist attractions of the capital.

"They do not."

"In that case, Liz and Daniels'." Garth said.

"Correct, and the original tavern is still open and run by one of their descendants." Tiffany confirmed, as the chair started up again.

Then the room became hushed. The last question was probably the most life altering, since it severely limited what someone could do afterwards. A stupidly overcranked libido could be managed, infectiousness really couldn't.

Tiffany cleared her throat. "Garth, time for the final question, are you still ready to go through with it?"

Garth nodded, his cock finally deflated enough not to be in his line of sight. "Yeah, we agreed on this."

The last three options popped up on screen. Immune, Innoculated, Carrier. This one got a fairly even spread as well, but not many people apply for tickets for a transformation show if they don't have a bit of a kink. Carrier won, as it nearly always had in the past. "Immune" Garth said, trying not to imagine Dorthy swelling underneath him, slowly growing her own shaft so massive it could plug him all night long. They'd agreed before, and he was going for it.

"Alright Garth, we've got a physical and mental challenge. Guess how much you're going to cum. If you're within an order of magnitude, without going over, you win. If not... then the closest audience member gets to choose."

Garth blinked, his head trying to work through that. "So... what you're asking whether it's 9.9 ml, 99 ml, or 999 ml?" Tiffany smiled and nodded.

"Fine, 99 ml. Not like I'm going to cum 20 times more than I used to." He laughed. Tiffany shrugged, trying to to reveal anything.

"Is that your final answer?"

Garth thought about it and nodded. And he could grab his dick and try to stop it. No rules there. The screen shifted, to a bar graph where people could input their guesses, ranging from 0 to 1000. It rapidly filled, most of it in the 100-400 range, since Garth took anything less. A few people who misunderstood the rules guessed in the 50s, and very few choose under 10. An arrow pointed to a very optimistic someone who had chosen over 1000 ml.

The two technicians lugged a large fleshlight looking thing with a 1000 ml collector at the end out to Tiffany who took it and walked over to Garth, hips swaying, chest bulging, cock dripping as she got nearer and nearer to the source of the potent musk filling her stage.

She slowly eased it over his cock, which stiffened instantly at the warm softness, and started gently thrusting it up and down, her cock pinned between the two of them, her breasts mashing against his pair. She slowly unbuttoned the top few buttons, revealing a mile of cleavage. Garth's eyes were fixed. You'd think that after growing his own massive pair, and being able to feel sparks of pleasure shoot through his leaking nipples as they dragged against the silk, a little cleavage wouldn't do much but... looking up at the taller Amazon, taking care of him, tenderness in her eyes... she reached over and tucked a lock of hair behind his ear.

He squeaked, and he felt his lower body clench, as a spurt blasted out of his cock and into the collection bag. He retained enough mental power to see that it filled to around the 50 ml mark.

"Ooh, nice blast of pre." Tiffany said in his ear, appreciatively. Garth nodded and leaned back, happy that he'd won.

"Wait, pre?" He asked, feeling the lust and pressure still building, Tiffany starting to make fully body thrusts, her breasts bouncing. "Wait, oh fuck."

Tiffany slowed down into a sensuous rhythm, "What? You want me to stop? You want me to say that's how much you came." She grinned, a glint of edge sparking in her eye, as she tortured new Amazon in front of her. "We both know you're hung like a stallion, and can cum like a firehose. Come on, you stud!' She moaned, her cock basting Garth's face. Being called a stud and the sudden potent scent made him scream in orgasm, as he felt his prostate swell, and his balls pull up, the pressure becoming unbearable as his changed biology pushed him towards the edge and over.

He came like a horse. Then again and again. Blast after blast traveling down his sensitive slab of amazon meat and pouring into the collector, filling it past 75, then past 90. He grabbed his cock trying to stop it, but the sudden sensation just sent sparks across his eyes, and he totally lost control. Then he lost track of the number of blasts, just feeling them ripple past his fingers, as his cunt begged for something, anything, to clamp down on, squirting onto the chair as his breasts ruined Tiffany's clothes. She kept undulating, trying to milk every milliliter of cum out of him, her own cock unloading on the two.

What felt like minutes later, he felt his cock starting to calm down, the orgasm starting to recede, and he managed to open his eyes, looking with dismay at the collector. It was... about 50 ml? He looked around in confusion, and saw a fully loaded collector on the ground, being carefully capped and labeled by a technician, and heard the chair's pump shift, as it stopped supplying him with as much saline as his body could manage.