Prize or Penalty Ch. 06: Elf

Charlie was grinning at her with an evil joy in his eyes as he continued stroking his cock. Strands of precum whipped back and forth, some even soaking into her stocking-clad feet.

"Are you planning on finishing any time soon?" she asked and gave a melodramatic yawn.

"Soon enough," he promised, and crossed the stage to take Foxy's shoes and give him Box Number Seven in exchange. It was funny seeing him sitting there still almost fully dressed and almost fully unaware of what was happening to him. It was cruelly funny watching Charlie tease him with Good Girl bursts of euphoria.

"Yes!" Foxy shouted as another prize was revealed. Sarah wondered if he would have been so susceptible to the endorphins if he hadn't already been high from whatever he had taken before the show.

Charlie was back in front of her, his hand once again stroking his cock as if priming it to fire. "Don't give what you're not prepared to take," she warned, and stood to unzip her skirt.

The audience murmured their appreciation as she stood revealed, black stockings and matching garter belt; intense fuchsia, lacy bra and knickers, the latter straining to contain her monstrously transformed clit. "Number Six, please, Charlie."

*

James had thought her sexy before, but seeing her down to her stockings and underwear was something else. Plus her tits really did look perky, even contained by her pink bra, and the way she pouted was so seductive. And then there was that prominent bulge in her tight, lace knickers that she really wasn't trying to hide or anything. Too busy dancing in her chair in celebration of finding another prize.

The contrast with himself was absolute. Sarah was wowing the audience with sexy lingerie while he was yet to bare any skin. And yet he had already found three of the five penalties, despite having been determined originally to give up after one. But at least now he had found two prizes, so if he did give up now it wouldn't be for nothing.

Three penalties. Good Girl was like a drug. He knew it was bad, but the rush of pleasure he felt was wonderful. James just wished it wasn't Charlie saying it. He would much rather it was Sarah calling him a good girl... that would be so hot. The others, though. He felt itchy all over suddenly, and he wondered if that was something to do with Hidden Assets, whatever that was. He wasn't entirely sure he wanted to find out.

He tugged off his socks. "Number Six, please, Charlie," he said, aware that he was echoing Sarah.

"Round Six, Box Number Six," Charlie said, bringing it over. James caught himself staring at Charlie's cock, so swollen with urgent need it seemed almost angry, a thick string of precum dangling precariously from the tip. It was a beautiful cock, in a way. It belonged in a porn film, hammering away at an endless stream of gorgeous, horny sluts. Mouth, pussy, ass. Unleashing streams of thick cum over faces and breasts.

Shaking his head to clear it of this lewd imagery, James drank down a tube of some fizzy purple liquid. Slightly salty, slightly sour. "Good girl," Charlie said, and James sighed. Smiling happily, he opened the envelope and read aloud, "Fill Me Up."

Another penalty, and that one really didn't sound good. That sounded exactly like the sort of penalty that would have him bending over to take an endless stream of well hung, horny studs, much like Charlie.

James swallowed uncomfortably and was glad to see Charlie walk away. He knew he should quit. He really should have ages ago, but there were four boxes left and three were prizes. It was worth hanging in there for one more round at least. Then he would quit, and surely no one would hold it against him. Not after he had found four penalties. What a horrible fate.

Sarah had her pink knickers off. Jutting up out of her crotch was unmistakably a cock, and a big one too. Certainly longer and thicker than his own, and likely to rival Charlie's stallion length once it was fully grown and hard. Even Charlie seemed at a loss for words, his mouth opening but no sound coming out.

Sarah laughed as she threw her knickers to him. "Give them a good sniff, Charlie," she said. "I know how much you love the smell of cock." The audience was loud with hysterical laughter and Charlie cheeks were red as he glowered at Sarah. "Number Seven," she said when there was quiet again. And when Number Seven turned out to be yet another prize, she laughed as she danced again in her chair.

Charlie was seething with scarcely contained fury as he returned to James. There were, James decided, few things quite so frightening as an angry man with horns and an erect cock. Quickly he unbuttoned his shirt and handed it over, noting absently that his arms were completely hairless. Indeed, his armpits too. He peeked inside his vest. No wonder he was itching - there was loose hair everywhere. Clean Shave, he realised, had left him hairless all over. "Huh," he said. Weird, but some women liked that.

He shrugged. It was hardly a penalty at all, and Good Girl was something he could live with. He was more worried about the other two, and even more worried about the fifth and final penalty that, hopefully, he wouldn't find at all. "Box Number One, please, Charlie."

This time Charlie didn't call him a good girl after he drank - a syrupy black concoction that tasted of pineapple - and he was stone cold sober as he opened the envelope and had all his hopes dashed. "No," he whispered, the blood draining from his face.

Charlie cackled delightedly. "Be a good girl, Foxy, and read it out for the audience."

James whimpered as the pleasure whipped through him again. He had an aching need for stimulation, and it took all his willpower to resist the temptation to grab his cock and massage it live on national television. "Okay," he said. "Okay." He showed the card to camera and said, "Sissy Boy."

Once again the audience descended into hilarity, and Charlie with them. It was absolutely the most embarrassing moment in James's life and, almost certainly, the end of his acting career. No one would ever take him seriously again. Even if he resisted what the penalty would try to do to him - and he was determined to resist - people would still assume he spent his nights dressed as a girl and begging men to fuck him in his ass. (And damn, why did that scenario suddenly appeal so much to him?)

"Fuck," he whispered, wanting to cry but refusing to. "Fuck..."

*

As much as Sarah didn't want a cock instead of a clit, it was worth it for the look on Charlie's face when he saw she easily matched him for size. She was sorely tempted to mirror his earlier action and stroke it, but feared it might go off, and she really didn't want to climax during the show. It would be both messy and embarrassing, and might also cause legal problems if they thought it was deliberate. Accidental orgasms were one thing. Deliberate, self-inflicted orgasms were frowned upon.

Her breasts intrigued her, though, and she removed her bra. They were certainly perky now, but seemed unexpectedly larger. Or no, she realised abruptly. She herself was shrinking, but not her breasts. They just looked larger as a result.

Sarah peered around, hoping to see herself in the big screen at the back of the stage. The director obliged her, and she was startled as much by her pouting lips as her large and decidedly perky breasts. But the changes didn't stop there. Her ears were pointy at the top, and she was as skinny as a supermodel. Just not a very tall supermodel - she had definitely lost some height.

Actually not bad, Sarah decided. Attractive, despite the incongruous addition of a huge cock. Cute, even. It would take some getting used to, and she would need a whole new wardrobe, but she could make it work.

Three boxes left, and two were penalties, but Sarah had promised to play to the end. Throwing her bra to Charlie, she said, "Number Eight, please," and amused the audience for a few seconds by making her perky perky tits bounce.

Box Number Eight was the fourth penalty. Sarah frowned at the card. Elfin Elegance had roused her suspicions that the cards had been interfered with behind the scenes, and this one confirmed it. "Whiplash," she read aloud, showing it to the camera.

A few days earlier, she'd been having lunch with Sonja, the independent adjudicator. Sonja had seemed unusually anxious. "What if you get some really horrible penalties and end up hating me?" she'd asked.

"I promise not to hate you," Sarah had said, laughing, "but I may just put you over my knee and give you a good spanking."

Sonja had blushed. They had never actually slept together, Sonja being married and determined to be faithful, but they often joked about it. "What's the worst penalty that actually you secretly wouldn't mind getting?"

Whiplash. Only Sonja knew that. The look of surprise in Charlie's eyes was genuine. "Wow," he said. "That's unfortunate."

"Yes," Sarah agreed, feeling her tailbone with her fingers and wondering how quickly it would grow.

Foxy, still a little in shock, had only prizes left. He gave his vest to Charlie in exchange for Box Number Two, and barely acknowledged the prize itself.

Charlie returned quickly to Sarah, who was wondering whether her cock was still getting bigger or whether the rest of her was still getting smaller. Probably, she mused, a little of both. She was definitely growing a tail, though. It was maybe an inch long, smooth and tapering.

Unclipping her stockings, she eased them slowly and seductively down to her feet and off, draping them casually over Charlie's shoulders. "Number Nine, please, Charlie."

Two boxes left. One prize. One penalty. And of course it was the penalty. Sighing irritably, she read out, "Harlot in Heels." A mild penalty, at least, but a definite nuisance. Unlike Augmented Arches, Harlot in Heels did not physically change the legs. It was more psychological, in that the only footwear she'd feel comfortable wearing would be high stiletto heels. That in itself was annoying. Worse was that walking in high heels would make her very horny.

Charlie was grinning at her again, clearly delighted with this penalty. He'd certainly had his revenge on her, seeing her transformed into a sexy elf-maid with a futa cock and a fetish for high heels.

She laughed and grinned back at him, letting him see that she wasn't upset. Not at all. She loved this supersexy version of her old self. "Tick tock, Charlie," she said, pointing over at Foxy. "We've a show to finish."

*

James felt numb. The words Sissy Boy kept echoing in his head. He didn't want to be a good girl or a sissy boy, though he did love how soft and feminine his skin was now. No! He kicked himself mentally. He didn't love how soft and feminine his skin was. He didn't want to fill the yearning emptiness in his ass with a hard cock and lashings of creamy cum. Not even Sarah's huge cock that looked like it would fit perfectly and feel amazing, and damn she looked hot.

She was perched on her high chair wearing nothing but a garter belt that hid nothing. Her tits looked so perfect and he wanted to grab them and suck on their bullet-like nipples while her cock rubbed deliciously against his smooth belly and she whispered, "Good girl," into his ear before ordering him to bend over and lift his skirt like a little slut...

"No," he whispered, denying the fantasy. Charlie was watching him. Waiting. James stood and unzipped his trousers and stepped out of them. His legs were smooth and hairless too. How suddenly it had happened! Only minutes ago he had felt fully dressed and safe - but that had been a lie. He had never been safe. And now he was down to his boxers and felt nothing like the man he had been.

"Number Four," he said, and quickly another prize was revealed.

Moments later, Sarah had her garter belt off and was soon cheering over her fifth and final prize, the game over for her. She too had found five penalties, but seemed to rejoice in them while James sat feeling thoroughly lost and confused about what it all meant for him.

But at least he could leave knowing he had found all five prizes. Five million to be given to charities. That was important.

"One last box, Foxy," Charlie said. "One last item of clothing, and then you can go home a very good girl indeed."

James swayed under the force of the words, his euphoria distancing him from the shock of removing his boxers to see...

His balls were gone, and his pubes too, and his cock had shrunk to a mere inch in length. "What the fuck!" he screeched, his terror at this development breaking through the cloud of euphoria.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," Charlie said to the audience. "Say it with me."

On cue, a hundred voices called out, "Good girl!" A wave of orgasmic pleasure washed through him like nothing he had ever experienced, and cum spurted from his tiny, convulsing cock as the audience cheered in victory. The cameras, of course, caught every moment of his humiliation.

"A huge thank you to both our contestants tonight," Charlie said, and the audience applauded enthusiastically. "We do," he continued once they were calm again, "have gifts for you to take home, as special reminders of tonight's excellent show."

He presented Sarah with a pair of sexy black and gold stripper heels, that she seemed very happy to slip her feet into. "Thanks," she said, laughing. "I really need the extra height these give me."

"And for Foxy," Charlie said, "this beautiful Prize or Penalty buttplug."

James scowled at it, not wanting to touch it at all, even if it was kind of beautiful the way it looked like solid gold. But he really needed something to answer the yearning need to fill his ass, and the buttplug was infinitely preferable to Charlie's hard cock that was starting to look so very tempting indeed. "Thank you," he said quietly, taking it with extreme reluctance.

*

Entirely naked save for her new high heels, Sarah strode off the stage to applause and cheers, and away from the anonymous gaze of the audience into the backstage corridors inhabited by the crew, most of whom she knew well. They stared at her in amazement, some openly and some with furtive embarrassment, and she could hardly blame them.

She was very aware of how she looked, with eager, bouncing breasts and a huge, jutting cock. A tail too, a foot long now and swishing restlessly behind her. But there was no point acting shy. If she wanted to keep their respect and continue in her role as executive producer, she had to accept her fate and embrace her transformed body.

Her transformed mind too. She wasn't usually one to obsess over shoes, and had always preferred comfort and practicality over glamour, but wearing her new Prize or Penalty sandals with their gem-studded platforms and six-inch stiletto heels excited her more than even the leather boots she wore for play sessions at home.

She ignored them all, men and women both, and marched straight to and into Sonja's office, slamming the door shut behind her. "What the absolute fuck, Sonja?" she demanded, hands on hips and legs apart. Powerful and angry. And also annoyingly wet. She wanted to appear angry, not aroused, but was definitely more the latter.

Sonja looked frightened and as guilty as hell - for about five seconds, then burst into tears. "I'm sorry!" she wailed. "He made me do it!"

"Who made you?" Sarah demanded. "How?"

"Charlie!" Sonja was a mess of tears, almost unable to speak for sobbing. "He said he'd tell Mike about us if I didn't."

Mike was loyal Sonja's adored husband. "About you and Charlie? You've been fucking Charlie?"

Sonja nodded, her face etched with misery.

Sarah sighed. She wanted to be angry, but mostly she was just horny - and very visibly so. As magnificent as her huge new cock was, it was also utterly ridiculous the way it projected out in front of her, throbbing constantly and dribbling with desire. "Okay, Sonja, I forgive you, but next time you're desperate for extramarital cock, you come and see me, right? Not that bastard Charlie."

Sonja laughed through her tears, and nodded. "It's a deal."

Sarah marched determinedly through the corridors to her office. The air was cool against her bare skin and she wished she wasn't subject to the same rules all contestants were. The rules were that she could only leave the studio wearing the clothes left or given to her, and in her case that was only her new shoes.

And, of course, a Prize or Penalty T-shirt. Amy, her young personal assistant, was waiting dutifully outside her office with two T-shirts, the smaller of which she handed to Sarah while blushing furiously. "Well, what do you think?" Sarah asked as she tugged the tight, black T-shirt down over her breasts. Somehow the stretchy material managed to emphasise her breasts, and certainly her hard nipples made sharp points. But it was good to be clothed again, if only from the waist up.

"Best show ever," Amy said. "The audience loved you."

Sarah looked her sternly in the eyes. "I asked what you thought. Be honest, now."

Amy's blush deepened. "I think... if you weren't my boss..." Her gaze dropped to Sarah's erect cock, and her lips parted briefly as if in anticipation.

"But I am your boss, Amy," Sarah said, suppressing the instinct to smile. Her tail swished excitedly. "So behave yourself, or I'll have to spank you."

Amy's eyes widened, but whether out of alarm or excitement, Sarah couldn't tell. "Yes, Miss Stevens," Amy said. Indicating the second T-shirt, she added, "I, uh, need to take this to Foxy."

"I'll take it to Foxy," Sarah said. "But tomorrow, Amy, I'm going shopping, and I'll need someone to carry the bags."

"I'll do it, Miss Stevens," Amy said quickly. With an impish grin, she added, "I won't promise to behave, though."

*

James sat in his dressing room, utterly dejected. He had been humiliated on the stage, and had no idea what it meant for his future. He was a man without any body hair, without pubes and without balls, and with a cock so small it was almost a clit - and he hated how the thought of having a clitoris excited him so much.

He clutched the gold buttplug tightly, unwilling to use it, yet sorely tempted to do so. Anything to stop himself thinking about Charlie's stallion length or even Sarah's monstrous futa cock. He wasn't yet willing to accept that the show had feminised him, made him into a slut and a sissy.

The door opened and Sarah walked in. She was wearing a Prize or Penalty T-shirt but still managed to look weirdly alien and also hot as fuck. His sphincter clenched at the sight of her huge, erect cock, sending a thrill of excitement through him - but her tail, as sinuous and fearsome as a bullwhip, distracted him from such thoughts. "For you," she said, handing him a T-shirt.

It was a profound relief to be dressed again, if only partly. The cut of the shirt was just long enough to conceal what was left of his genitals, and he smiled gratefully at her in the mirror. For a moment, anyway. "I feel like I've had my life stolen from me," he said. "But you're acting like this is the best thing that ever happened to you."

Sarah shrugged. "It's a choice. You can walk out of here a winner, with your head held high. You just have to embrace your new reality. Just as I will have to live and work with all my friends and colleagues knowing I'm a harlot in heels, you will have to live with people knowing you're a sissy who loves to dress like a woman and take it up the ass. So don't hide it. Buy yourself a slutty dress and find someone who'll tell you every day what a very good girl you are."

James moaned with helpless pleasure as the words excited him all over again. "Now be a good girl for me and stand up," Sarah said, and James lacked the will to deny her. "Bend over and let me put that plug where it belongs."