The Great Alchemist Bake Off

"Well, if you'll just sign here, we'll bring your luggage to your assigned room, give you the key, and the preparation phase begins tomorrow!" Elia nodded, and perused the document once more. As an alchemist, she knew that her profession was responsible, and... She blinked. And put her finger down on the paper with an incredulous look.

"Er... What is this clause, exactly?" The secretary clearly knew what clause she was talking about, because she grinned.

"First time at the Bake Off?" Elia nodded. She'd only been an accredited alchemist for a few years now, so this... This was new. And worrying. "Well, the Bake Off is a very competitive event, and, since we couldn't actually afford enough tasters" She leaned forward and whispered into her hand "Or even get enough tasters to agree to a dangerous assignment like testing alchemical cookies in a profession, that, let's be real here, has more than its fair share of drama..." She shrugged "...We covered our asses by adding this clause, where, if you do enter, you agree and consent to the possibility of transformations, mind control, the possibility of being hit with an uncontrollable lust that leads to being gangbanged, permanent submissive or dominant behaviour, and any or all possible effects of alchemical baked goods that may or may not be present in your assigned dish for the day." She winked, as Elia's eyes widened with each item on the list "This is also why other contestants are the judges, and their baked goods are assigned randomly. Less chance for inter-alchemist rivalries to play out. Not none... Just less." Elia's eyes were like saucers now. "So... Still wanna take part?"

Elia gulped. The Bake Off was, for the winners, a big boost to their reputation. But she now realised why she hadn't heard much about the losers. She took a deep breath. "How... How long do I have to think about this?" The secretary nodded understandingly, and thought for a moment.

"Weeeeelll... About fifteen minutes. Registrations close at the seventh toll of the bell, and my time sense is usually spot on there. Better make it ten, just to play it sa-" Elia picked up the quill and scribbled her name. The secretary's eyes widened a little. "That quick, huh?" Elia nodded, unable to speak, and bright red. Inwardly, she was cursing her impulsiveness, but... She really needed that boost. She was living in the middle of nowhere, and, unless custom could be brought in from afar, she wasn't going to be doing more than humdrum business. Besides... If it let her go hog wild, then she could get even more reputation along the way. The secretary nodded at her, and she nodded back. "Good luck!"

She smiled, warmly "Thank you. I think I'll need it!"

First Round (40 remain)

Elia sweated, and it wasn't just from seeing the other contestants. They'd been given an hour, no more, no less, to prepare their concoction, put it into some kind of baked good, somehow, and present it, and that... That was a tight timeline. Nobody would be disqualified for not completing, but they would be marked down for having to take extra time, delaying the entertainment.

And the crowd. She knew there would be a crowd, but this wasn't so much a crowd as a throng, a great heaving mass of people, cheering and crowing and making all sorts of hullabaloo. The elven alchemists, with their sharper hearing, had been wincing the whole time, even with earplugs, and Elia had to admit, it had been painfully distracting to her as well. She was, however, smiling at the fact the table was her height, as were the other contestants, taller or shorter. As a halfling, she wasn't particularly used to that, and she appreciated the consideration.

Still, she thought to herself, 39 other contestants. And no guarantee that more than 6 will be ruled out. She'd made sure to read the rules in her room the previous night. 6 of the contestants would be sent home in each round, with any others due to... mishaps, judged on whether they were drastic enough to merit that. In the final round, only the three highest scoring would take home their prize. Although, if it was a particularly vicious contest... She stowed that thought away, determined to look on the bright side.

The announcer, an Orcish bard dressed in a puffy blue and yellow striped shirt, raised his hand, and the crowd silenced. "Friends, the contestants have created their delicious confections, but, before the entertainment of the testing begins, and our judges" he gestured to a stand nearby, where five elder alchemists sat "Will judge, not just the reactions of our tasters through telepathy, but the alchemical effects of the concoctions..." The judges tipped their heads, and Elia could see more than one face in the contestant line sweating "...We're going to have some words from noted Alchemist, sexologist, friend to monsterfolk and humanoid alike, Alchemist Shira!" The crowd went wild, and Elia groaned. She'd heard of Shira, and her constant grandstanding, and she was not looking forward to this.

Alchemist Shira stepped up to the podium, a matronly human woman, with half moon spectacles, a billowing skirt, a striped vest, and auburn curls straining under a bright headscarf, smiled benignly at the crowd. "I'll keep this short, darlings, but it's so lovely to see you all here today, to see the best and brightest upcoming alchemists in the realm do their stuff, not just in terms of potions, but in cookery too, a skill I value most highly! Why, they all look so delicious, but..." she wagged her finger with a wry grin "As you know, darlings, it's not all fun and games for our contestants, as elimination is as good as disqualification, and I know some of our contestants have the filthiest minds!" She giggled, and the crowd roared with laughter. "Each contestant is assigned one of the other's dishes randomly, as distributed by our judges, and, before we close, I'd like to tell you all that not only will I be watching, and writing aaaall the details in the Sentria Weekly this year, I'll be available for consultation in the evenings too, for those lovely darlings who want to" The crowd were clearly fans, for a shout of "ASK ALCHEMIST SHIRA" went up to her cupped ear, and she clapped her hands delightedly. "Yes, darlings, yes! Now, without further ado, let the tasting begin!"

Each contestant looked to their dish, steeling themselves. Elia did the same, but it only took a few deep breaths to calm herself. The first round, generally speaking, was the tame one. An appetiser, of sorts. Her own dish was a plate of chocolate cookies. Unassuming. Delicious smelling. Freshly baked. No clues. Taking another deep breath, she picked one up, eyeing the other contestants as she did. Some had already started, and one was tearing in with gusto. She nibbled, and...

This was good. The dough was crisp, the chocolate dark and luscious. She took a bigger bite, and nodded in approval. Regardless of the effect, this was evidently from someone who knew their stuff! Before she could help herself, she'd eaten the whole thing, and had another to her mouth. Wow, I cou- wha? Feeling a wetness in her chest, she looked down...And clasped her arms to her chest in shock. My nipples! My nipples are leaking milk! Blushing, feeling that dampness intensify, dribbling down her breasts and her shirt, she gasped. Would she be like this forever? Would she have to work around this? But, after a few moments, it stopped, and she took a deep breath. Okay, fine. I got off light, and... Well, there's no harm in eating the whole plate.

A loud, drawn out moan to her left caught her attention mid nibble. One of the dwarven contestants had thrown off their clothes, almost ripping them in their haste, had climbed up on their table, and was masturbating fiercely. "Ahhhh! Ahhhh! Yes! Yes! Watch me! Watch me, you bastards! Watch meeeeee!" Two of the other contestants caught her as she fell off the table, still fingering herself and trying to turn toward the crowd. They laid her on the ground, but it was a good ten minutes before she cried out her final orgasm, and fell limp to the floor, breathing deeply as she fitfully slumbered. The judges conferred amongst themselves, and nodded. The eldest, a bearded orc, stood up.

"Contestant Allison Mournberg has not been given a permanent effect, and so remains in the contest. We have conferred, and contestants Leal Stormborn, Jen'a Kurnak, Murgo Brightwater, Autumn Willow, Marek Abdal, and Joseph Armstrong have not scored highly enough to continue the competition. We thank them for their contributions, and the contestant sign-up fee has been refunded." The six, two orcs, one human, and three elves, sighed, and trudged back to the inn, presumably to pack up. She was pleased to note that one of the orcs still had slick, blue-green skin, and she smiled a little as she noted her own potion was still in effect. If she'd judged it right, it should only last until tonight, but, worst case scenario, it would be tomorrow afternoon. And, through the glum look, he was licking his lips, so she was reasonably sure he was okay with losing. He would have to make a note of their name, and send them some of her brownies without the active ingredient. It was only fair to, and she hoped they would enjoy them.

Third Round (21 remain)

Elia was sweating profusely as she stared at the almond cake in front of her. The last round had been... Well, there had been some pretty drastic disqualifications this past round. Two of them were permanent, but not... Bad. Lief Arronson had been turned into a highland cowgirl, and had chosen to stay at the inn for a little longer. She'd talked with her afterward, and she honestly seemed like she was pleased with the result. "Ah, the disqualification's a bugger, yes. But I feel okay, I've got my faculties, and" She remembered her grin as she'd hefted her breasts with a grin, and referring to them as "lovely puppies", and she chuckled. She'd changed her name to Leah, and everyone clapped her on the back, bought her a drink in congratulations. Elia didn't think she'd be turning back anytime soon, if ever. Pea (no last name), a human from the far south jungles, had pulled their dick out and started masturbating, but their disqualification came from the pink, sticky goo that oozed out of their dick as they came. Bubblegum cum... Wonder how it tastes? Still, those were the lucky ones. One of the contestants eyes had glazed, before looking around, smiling at the crowd, and tentatively walked toward them, eyeing them lewdly. The judges had clearly caught on before she did, muttered "Bimbo potion" under their breath as they passed Elia, and gently ushered her away, as she blew kisses toward members of the crowd. Another's breasts had grown to a massive size, ripping their shirt. Which was a feat, considering they were a man. They were flushed as they were escorted off, and it would be of little consolation to either that the potion bakers had been disqualified by low scores.

But the worst had to have been the giantess potion. That one almost caused a riot, not least because the giantess had turned around and demanded to know who had given her the indignity. She, at least, had been given an antidote straight away. Not everyone was. After all, bimbo potion was quite recognisable by its scent, and as to the submissive potion... Well, everyone knew who brewed that one, as the goblin in question was proudly holding her new pet's collar, a drooling, devoted elven boytoy.

She grimaced as she looked at her own plate. Lifting it up and taking a careful sniff, she nodded to herself. Like the last two times, scent revealed nothing. This was, usually, a good sign. Last round, well... She was grateful it was temporary. It wasn't a lust potion, but it was... Well, she didn't know what it actually was, but she remember the feel of tentacles, full of eggs, pushing inside her pussy, her ass, her mouth, and her breasts being sucked, and feeling that even with her mouth closed, and her clothes firmly on. It was disconcerting, but worst of all, she'd felt like this was right, this was a good life, and that she was going to feel so happy when she had her lover's babies, laid them out, plop plop plop in a row, just like she had many times before... She shuddered. She didn't know how that one worked, and, to be honest, she wasn't sure she wanted to.

Still... She had to taste it. So, with the knife provided, she cut herself a slice, lifted it to her mouth, and bit in. She was a little disappointed. Tastewise, it was so-so. She wondered how this contestant had gotten so far, considering this wasn't exactly inspiring her to taste more.

And then she felt a heat in her groin, and hurriedly pulled her trousers down as a thick, girthy rod, bright red in colour, stretched itself out, already leaking precum. She could feel that heat spreading, and... Dick is for fucking with. Cum is for cumming. Got to cum. Got to fuck. Her brain had shut down over the assault, the heat, the words, endlessly repeating in her mind. She'd pulled her trousers down, off, reflexively, and, without further ado, sought out someone to fuck. She'd picked them out, but someone else, someone smelling so much sweeter, so much more willling, that she'd pinned them down. They said words, spreading themselves, pulling her in and wrapping their thighs around her ass, but she only heard the thoughts, running through her mind. Still, it was pleasing to feel hands unbutton her shirt, play with her breasts as she humped, thrusting, feeling that heat intensify, feeling the satisfaction of obeying the natural demands of her dick, the grip and squish as her partner got wetter, and stickier, and she came and came and came and came and...

She was woken up to a cold splash of water on her face. Blinking, the first thing she did was check her crotch. She blinked, and looked up at the judge. "That... That much?" He nodded, eyes wide, and pointed next to her. She looked. Oh no.

Alchemist Shira lay, a silly smile on her face, her vest and shirt ripped through the middle, her breasts covered with bite marks, and... That much?!? It was a large, white pool, and she was amazed she'd managed to take that much. Her distended stomach was clearly testament to how much they'd fucked, how much... Elia's eyes widened, and the judge laid one hand on her shoulder. "It's okay, Elia Hausen. Alchemist Shira's well armed for occasions like this, and, if I'm being honest, she was pretty eager to interpose herself between you and the other contestants." Elia blinked, unable to really process that statement for a few moments. And then she gripped the judge's hand

"Anyone else?" The judge shook his head, and Elia let out a long, juddering breath. Well, she didn't appear to be disqualified, so... Was she? She looked up at the judge, and he shook his head, smiling. "Well... Whooo... You, er... Used to this happening?" The judge chuckled.

"One contestant was turned into a tentacle beast, two years ago, and that was... Well, we had to delay the third round a day, they other contestants were so exhausted. We managed to cure him, as we do for the ones who either want it, or don't have the capacity to want it... Although, this time, Emily actually chose to go back to being a bimbo, Erieth knows why..." He cocked his head "Well, she would know why, I guess..." He smiled "We only tell the contestants who have it a little rough, by the way, permanent or otherwise. After all..." He grinned "...We want to keep the reputation, strange as that may sound."

Elia nodded. She thought she understood, and the reassurance was... Well... Reassuring. Getting herself to her feet, she looked down at Shira. "Is it bad of me to say 'Couldn't happen to a better person?'" The judge laughed.

"Yes, well, I don't like her either, but it is a little bad. I'll probably dock you some points for unsportsmanlike behaviour." Elia nodded. That was fair.

She had to say it though.

Fourth Round (12 remain)

Elia was, on the one hand, grateful that she'd gotten this far. But she was somewhat troubled by how she'd seem to change after only a brief time. At first, she'd felt for the contestants, kept their names. But last round, partly due to the shock of her own experience, partly due to... Something else, she'd not bothered to check. What mattered, right now, was the dish in front of her.

Wedding cake. She hated wedding cake. She hoped the judges would take that into... No, she didn't. She despised wedding cake. Still, she lifted the plate up to her nose, and took a sniff. Some kind of transformation potion... What about the inside? Prising a bit off icing off, she took a smell, and... Oho! Somebody's quite canny! Rummaging around in her belt, she pulled out an anti-lust potion. It wasn't against the rules, as part of the competition was whether somebody could identify an ingredient. They couldn't fully counteract it though... But with plantgirl pollen? Well, it was just a good idea. Downing the potion, she grinned. This time, she wouldn't have it so bad... She was feeling ballsy, so she took a large slice, and chomped the whole thing.

Even with the plantgirl pollen, it was still wedding cake, and whatever the transformation potion was, it wasn't doing the icing any favours. She grimaced, but managed to eat the whole slice, and waited. Waited for whatever would happen. Whatever it was, it couldn't be worse than...

Her skin felt warm... Not just the warmth of a transformation, but warm warm. Cozy warm. Looking up, she smiled, and took off her shirt, testing... Yessss, that's good. A nice sunny day, perfect for... Ohhhhh, that's what's going on! She grinned, looking down at her arms to confirm. Green skin? Check. A shake of the head: Hair longer? Check. Reaching back, she took a strand in her fingers, and brought it forward: Willow vines? Nice choice!

She had turned into a plantgirl. She sort of wished she had a mirror, because she was curious how she looked as a plantgirl. Her perspective hadn't changed, and her breasts didn't look any larger or smaller... She grinned to herself. Well, permanent or no, I think... I think I'll play to the crowd for this one. Whoever made this deserves that much. Now who could...? She spotted the orc right away. He'd been eyeing her, obviously recognising his own dish, and, as her eyes met his, he gulped. She crooked a finger. His breathing was heavy even before he got within range of her pollen, and she could clearly see a bulge in his trousers, straining to get out. Something tame, at this late stage? Huh. She smiled. "Well, big boy, you clearly approve, so, if you're a good boy and tell me if I'm disqualified right now, I'll ease that discomfort you're so clearly labouring under." She cocked her head coquettishly, playing the role to the hilt. "Unless, of course, you don't want to?" Even with her pollen, the orc muzzily shook his head before answering.

"Uhhh... I'd... Arggggh... Yeah, I kinda think I do, this is... Really uncomfortable!" He was already pulling down his trousers, and Elia grinned as not one girthy cock slid out of his trousers, but four. They weren't long, that was the thing. The majority of the discomfort had clearly come from four thick cocks, all pushed uncomfortably together, and he hadn't even realised it. He clearly hadn't recognised it, because, looking down, he exclaimed "The hell? I hope I'm not disqualified, the hell are the- ohhhhh!"