Prize or Penalty Ch. 08: Snake Skin

My boyfriend Danny and I dared each other to sign up to play Prize or Penalty. We didn't really believe either of us would be selected. We certainly didn't think we would survive to the final round if we were, amazingly, selected. Absolutely we didn't expect that both of us would make it through to the hot seat and its terrifying possibilities.

I laughed when Danny's name was called. I cheered him as he fought the other contestants for the chance to play for money. I watched in shocked delight as he squirmed on his seat, Charlie strutting back and forth, fetching boxes and stroking his hard, gorgeous cock. I grinned as Danny surrendered his clothing, the first two boxes being prizes - wonderful prizes! - and I screamed with frustration as he tried to get more.

Instead he got penalty after penalty. "Nipplegasmic!" he read out, looking disappointed. Around me, the audience chuckled or murmured enviously. From what I remembered of the penalty from previous games, it made the nipples bigger as well as more sensitive. Supposedly, multiple orgasms were possible from excitation of the nipples, and I looked forward to finding out by playing with my millionaire boyfriend once we got home.

And he had three items of clothing left. He swapped his trousers for Thick As They Come, followed quickly by his boxers. I had often vocally admired Danny's eight-inch cock, that being significantly longer than any of my previous boyfriends, but secretly I had often wished he were thicker. But as he tugged his boxers down to reveal a cock semi-swollen with inevitable arousal, I started to regret that wish. Indeed, by the time he had opened the next box and drank its mystical offering, his cock was jutting out fully erect and easily the size of a beer can. The camera, of course, zoomed in to reveal its new glory, much to the delight of the audience, but to me it looked like a battering ram and a promise of future pain.

"Ass Kisser," he read out, sounding thoroughly annoyed, but the audience found it hilarious. Even I thought it was funny. Hopefully, I mused, he would be more interested in licking my ass than attempting to fuck it with that monster between his legs.

He had one last chance to win a third million. He surrendered his T-shirt with a flourish, drank down another vial of colourful fluid, and - looked increasingly crestfallen as the other boxes were opened, revealing one more penalty (Base Balls) and the final three prizes. Danny's last box was a penalty, one that shocked him so severely that Charlie had to read it for the cameras: "Loving Cuck."

This time I didn't join in the audience's ecstatic laughter. Poor Danny! What would it mean? What would it mean for me? Would he start begging me to sleep with other men, just so he could watch? Was that even something I could do?

Poor Danny. Poor me!

The producer lady handed Danny a gold chastity cage fit for a bull and led him away off stage, but the capricious gods were not finished for the night. Even as I stood, intending to join Danny backstage and congratulate and console him on his prizes and penalties, my own name was called, and I froze as the studio lights picked me out. "Come on down, Jane," Charlie called, and what was I to do?

Danny had played the game, and therefore so would I.

*

I had dressed carefully for the show. We both had. Although the chance of our names being called, let alone our reaching the final round, was slim, the thought of us playing had us both excited - and, in Danny's case, visibly aroused. We were dressed and ready to go, just waiting for the taxi that must have been delayed in traffic, and Danny didn't have to try hard to persuade me to bend over, to let him take me from behind.

No need to get undressed, and indeed my five-inch heels lifted my bum to the perfect height. He tugged my black lace thong to the side and eased in. "Just don't come," I said, thinking how horribly embarrassing it would be if I had to give cum-soaked panties to Charlie in front of a studio audience and television cameras. "If you need to," I added between sighs of pleasure, loving every thrust of his hard cock, "finish in my mouth."

Before Danny, I'd never really been into oral sex, but Danny's love of oral - giving and receiving - had won me over. I'd learned how to take him into my throat, and had even come to enjoy the taste of his cum. Usually he preferred to finish elsewhere, though. He shuddered to an abrupt halt, finishing in record time, his cock pulsing joyfully within me. I hissed in irritation.

Laughing quietly, he said, "I like knowing your pussy is wet with my cum."

And of course that was when the taxi pulled up outside. Knowing it was futile, I cleaned up as best I could, and prayed I would never be called upon to remove a cum-soaked thong.

*

"Well, Jane," Charlie said, "you can walk away a winner now with this beautiful golden necklace" - he held it up to the audience, who oohed and ahhed on cue - "or you can risk all and play Prize or Penalty..."

I stared at it anxiously. On the one hand, I was excited to actually play the game I had watched so many others play. On the other, I was shamefully aware of just how wet my knickers must be, and I couldn't stop thinking of the terrible penalties inflicted on Danny. Nipplegasmic! and Ass Kisser weren't so bad, I supposed, but what would Loving Cuck do to our relationship? Mostly, I couldn't stop thinking about his new monstrously thick cock: would it even fit in my mouth? Just how much lube would I need to let him fuck me without it making me scream in pain?

Or maybe it wouldn't be so bad... But I could hardly chicken out at the start of my game. Danny had suffered four penalties and won two millions for us. The least I could do was play until I had won the same. We had dared each other to do this, and one thing was for certain: if I didn't play to win, if I gave up before I had dared anything at all, I would regret it for the rest of my life.

"I'll play, Charlie," I said, and grinned as the audience cheered.

Charlie's proud cock was certainly longer than Danny's, and it was invitingly thick also. As Charlie strutted back and forth in front of me, certainly not shy about baring a cock even a porn star would be envious of, I couldn't stop staring at it, wondering what it would feel like inside of me. And Danny's new cock was thicker still.

"You know the rules, Jane," Charlie said, once the audience's cheering died away. "You scored seven in the last round, and that entitles you to seven items of clothing. I don't know, but I think you're -"

The audience completed it for him: "- overdressed!" Laughter gave way to a chant of, "Strip! Strip! Strip!"

I laughed with the audience. I was wearing ten items, and the studio lighting was making me uncomfortably hot. It was a relief to remove my coat and my scarf, and also my cardigan, and afterwards felt much more relaxed as I perched on the high chair waiting for the real game to begin.

The lights focussed behind me on the gold-coloured boxes. "Ten boxes, Jane," Charlie explained. "Five prizes, and five penalties. Remember, at any time, you can quit and go home with this beautiful necklace." He held it up enticingly, and I shook my head emphatically.

"To open a box," he continued, "you must surrender an item of clothing." He winked at me and gave his gorgeous cock a few teasing strokes. "Are you ready, Jane?"

"Yes, Charlie," I said, suppressing a shiver of fear. I was ready, yes, but what if? What if I got Chastity Belt, or worse? What if I got a futa cock like the producer lady had? Would Danny enjoy sucking my cock as much as he enjoyed my pussy? As much as he was likely to enjoy licking my ass from now on? (Would I enjoy having a cock for Danny to suck?)

"Excellent! Then let's play Prize or Penalty!"

Audience cheers gave way to the roll of a drum. "What item of clothing will you remove first, Jane?"

"My shoes," I said, not particularly sad to see them go. Five-inch heels might be sexy as hell, but they fucking hurt to walk in. I handed them to Charlie, and smiled when he lifted them to his nose to smell.

He grinned slyly. "They smell like sex," he said. "In fact, you smell like sex, Jane. Did you and Danny fuck on the way here, Jane?"

I felt my cheeks burn as I stared at him, speechless. Could he really smell that I had had sex? Could he smell Danny's cum leaking into my thong? But whether he could or not, my guilty reaction was all confirmation needed. The audience roared with laughter as I struggled even to breathe.

"An independent adjudicator is responsible for selecting the five penalties and arranging them randomly," he said, his eyes twinkling gleefully, "but let's hope you find a prize. In just a few minutes, Jane, you could be going home a multi-millionaire! Choose your first box..."

I chose Box Number 3 - once I found my voice again. Box Number 3 had a test tube with a sugary pink solution. It tickled my throat going down and I was sure it must be a penalty - but I opened the envelope after and saw a one and six beautiful zeros. "Yes!" I screamed, punching the air.

That, of course, would have been the perfect moment to stop. One fantastic prize, no penalties at all. But I was still feeling guilty that Danny had suffered so many penalties after I had dared him to play, and there were four more prizes to be won. I had to try.

And besides, the show was a roller coaster. What with the audience and the TV cameras, and Charlie's lusty cock and shameless teasing, I was loving my turn on the stage.

"Number 8, please, Charlie," I said, handing him my T-shirt. I grinned cheekily as a camera zoomed in on my black lace bra. My breasts were a good size, but although Danny had never once complained they were too small - they really weren't - he hadn't been shy about hoping I'd get a penalty that made them huge. He was, after all, a man.

I was still smiling as I opened the box, drank the vial of smoky green something with a hint of aniseed, and lifted out a card and read -

"Horny Bitch," I read out loud, no longer smiling. According to Danny, I was already a horny bitch, but the card suggested something far worse.

Charlie chuckled as he whirled away with the box. The horrible reality of the game descended on me as my fingertips touched sore, hard points forming above my temples. Literal fucking horns.

"Had enough?" Charlie asked. "Are you sure you wouldn't like to quit and go home with this beautiful gold necklace?" He held it up to catch the light.

I scowled at him. "Number 2," I growled, tugging my black ankle socks off and practically throwing them at him.

I wondered what the 'bitch' part of the penalty might mean. Would I turn into a dog? Or worse?

*

While I sat there on the stage, watched by hundreds of very entertained strangers as I mapped the slow growth of my horns, Danny was lost in misery backstage. While a part of him was definitely thrilled by the phenomenal thickness of his enlarged cock, he wondered if any woman would ever dare attempt to ride it. Would I take one look at it and shake my head in flat refusal?

His nipples had swollen in size, and looked like a woman's nipples. They were wonderfully sensitive too, and his explorative teasing soon developed into a hunger to actually come from playing with them. The closer he drew to the precipice of ecstasy, the harder he squeezed and tugged at the tender tips.

The producer lady, Sarah, interrupted this perverse self-pleasuring. He snatched his hands away guiltily, but of course she saw right through him. His chest was bare and his nipples an angry red, and his face was flushed as much from the climb to pleasure as his shame at being caught.

"I just came to give you this," she said, handing him a Prize or Penalty T-shirt. "And to let you know that Jane is in the hot seat. I'll bring her here when she's done."

The clouds of doom and misery lifted at the news, and he smiled. "Is it bad," he asked quietly, "that I want her to find the penalties?"

Sarah laughed. "We all want that." Picking up the gold chastity cage, she added, "You should try this. Take it off again if you don't like it, but I think you'll be pleasantly surprised." She dropped it into his lap, and exited the dressing room, blowing him a kiss as she closed the door.

And having nothing much to do while he waited for me to come, he did as Sarah advised. It wasn't easy squeezing his balls through the ring, but at last he had the parts assembled and he dared to close the lock.

And really it wasn't bad at all. He loved the elegant and expensive cage that did little to conceal the masterful size of its prisoner, and there was even pleasure in the tightness of its grip as his cock fought to break free.

Relaxing back in his chair, he returned to teasing his nipples, pinching and rubbing those engorged twins and pushing himself to the very edge of pleasure - and cried out in ecstatic release as he convulsed in helpless wonder.

*

I didn't seem to be turning into a dog, although my horns could soon be seen, curving to bright scarlet points. As if I were cosplaying a sexy demon girl. Cute in a fantasy, ridiculous if real.

Charlie brought me Box Number 2. "Odds are even, Jane," he said. "Four prizes to be won. Four penalties. What will this be?"

A prize, I hoped. Once I had two prizes, I'd be done. This time the liquid looked and tasted almost exactly like banana milkshake. I opened the envelope.

"Bloodhound?" I read, my voice trembling. That was my second penalty, and again the suggestion of something dog-like. Was that part of a theme? And I couldn't remember anyone getting that penalty before. I couldn't guess what it would mean.

With a delighted chuckle, Charlie took the box away again. "Nothing to do with blood," he commented to the audience, "or to do with dogs, but what are bloodhounds famous for?" He gave an exaggerated sniff, and made a face as if something stank. The audience murmured in response, and I sniffed curiously at the air to test my olfactory sense. Maybe indeed there was a new sharpness to certain odours, but maybe it was just my imagination.

But it didn't seem a terrible penalty, and I felt confident enough to stand and remove my tights. "Number 4," I said, handing them to Charlie.

Bloodhound... Maybe it was my imagination - I prayed it was - but the musky aroma of his crotch, that very distinctive smell of a man's aroused genitals, seemed particularly vivid. I caught myself in the act of leaning forward to smell him better, and was startled to feel an echoing arousal myself.

By his sly, knowing smile, Charlie knew exactly what was going through my mind. I jerked away from him angrily, but he just laughed and practically danced over to collect my next box. "Box Number 4," he said. "Your fourth box, and maybe your second prize. Let's see if you can equal your boyfriend, Jane. Or do you think Danny would want you to find a third penalty?"

Danny, I knew perfectly well, would want both. Prizes and penalties. I wondered what he was doing while I sat within a ring of cameras and lights. And, fuck, I could definitely smell Charlie's cock with its notes of sweat and precum. It made me want to bury my nose in his crotch and lose myself in that intoxication.

Box Number 4 was, of course, another penalty. "Siren Scented," I read out, glad not to see another dog-related penalty, and the 'siren' bit of it sounded intriguing.

"Mmm..." Charlie said. "All the boys will be after you."

Was that a good thing or a bad thing? The only 'boy' I wanted after me was my boyfriend Danny, but what with his getting Loving Cuck, he might find the idea of other men chasing after me quite exciting. I really didn't know how I felt about that. When we'd dared each other to play Prize or Penalty, we really hadn't thought it might end with Danny begging me to fuck other men.

I was down to three items of clothing: my skirt, my bra and my knickers. Sighing, I removed my skirt to show off my black lace knickers to the audience and the cameras, and enjoying the quiet murmuring of pleasure that surrounded me. "Number 7, please, Charlie," I said.

Number 7 was my second prize! Again I jumped excitedly in my seat, dancing happily in my underwear. I had equalled Danny's finding of two prizes - and I had two boxes yet to open. Two more prizes, perhaps. Or two more penalties.

But I was definitely starting to feel better about myself. I certainly enjoyed the fact that I was perched on a high chair in only my underwear, scarlet horns peeking out past my blonde hair. Sexy and devilish indeed. The smell of Charlie's urgently hard cock, engorged and excited almost to the point of eruption, was a mischievous distraction -

- but there was another scent, sharp and potent, raw and dirty, that soon dominated my awareness. A smell that seemed to be coming from me. From my pussy. The smell of a woman on heat, fertile and hungry. If you were to create a perfume called L'Air du Pute, it would smell like my pussy.

Charlie circled around me, sniffing in an exaggerated fashion. "You smell good enough to eat," he said, licking his lips for good measure. "Like a whore at the end of a busy night," he added, stroking his cock as if determined to finish, aiming it at me for good measure. The smell of his crotch was so intense. Thinking of his cum spurting out across my legs made me yearn to part them, to offer my thong as a target for him to aim at.

I pressed my legs tightly together and removed my bra. I glanced up at the big display and saw my bare breasts magnified, and a face flushed red with embarrassment. "Box Number 6," I said, my voice trembling.

Box Number 6 was not a prize. I knew as soon as I drank down the oily mixture in the test tube that I had equalled Danny in penalties as well as prizes. My skin itched like crazy as I reached for the envelope and extracted the fateful card. I knew it was bad, even before reading it. The words themselves shot cold terror along my spine. "Snake Skin," I whispered.

It was a penalty I'd never seen before, and the audience's reaction sounded like a collective gasp. But it was easy to guess what it meant, and the thought of having slimy lizard skin had me on the edge of tears. I stared at my hands, waiting for them to turn green. I looked despairingly up at the big display, half expecting to see an alien creature sitting there.

"One item of clothing left," Charlie said, grinning wickedly. "What will it be, Jane? Will you risk finding the fifth penalty? Or..." He held up the gold necklace. "No one would blame you..."

I glared angrily at him. I know he just trying to provoke me, and succeeding all too well, but no way was I quitting. Even if that was the sensible thing to do. I was well past being sensible. Standing, I tugged my black lace thong (wet with Danny's cum as well as my own arousal) down to my ankles and stepped out, and handed them to Charlie. "Box 1," I decided.

Charlie - of course - lifted my thong to his nose and breathed in... and moaned so theatrically I nearly slapped him - but then he wrenched the thong away from his face and his expression was one of utter shock. I screamed reflexively as his cock jerked, a huge jet of cum shooting out at me to splash against my belly.

Charlie, as far as I knew, had never once come during Prize or Penalty, but he had come because of the smell of my thong. His cheeks were abruptly as red with embarrassment as my own as he whirled away from me, his cum still spurting from his cock, the audience screaming with laughter and cheering with approval.

I scooped up his cum from my belly, intending to throw it away, but caught myself in the act of sniffing it on my fingers. It should have been humiliating, having this practical stranger come on me without warning or consent, and probably it would have been if Charlie hadn't looked so lost for words it was comical. But also, I must confess to feeling some measure of pride in the realisation that the smell of my pussy - that awful, dirty, humiliating stink - was powerful enough by itself to make a man come. In public.