{"loaderData":{"4":{"story":{"id":"3b0b1e77-123e-4d3e-990a-44cec2ea0e94","seriesId":null,"seriesName":null,"currentUserId":"00000000-0000-0000-0000-000000000000","added":"2025-04-13T22:49:42.619Z","title":"The Puppet Master's Gambit","slug":"the-puppet-masters-gambit","shortId":"SVHnzyPe","authorNote":"This was originally a commissioned story, and there are three chapters planned. I release all my stories for free; however, if you enjoy what you read and would like to support me, please consider subscribing to my website, where I release my chapters up to two months before publicly releasing them. https://www.bhfun.com","disclaimer":"Although the story itself is written entirely by me, the book cover art is AI generated.","type":"Novella","paidUrl":null,"synopsis":"Caught in a cruel warlock's game, two bitter rivals face humiliating transformations and treacherous challenges in a bid to survive with their lives intact.","partCount":3,"parts":[{"partId":"20ed1e20-cc3b-420a-a180-133404099f47","title":null,"summary":" Chapter One Skye Lowe crouched low\nbehind a rusted dumpster, her fingers tightening aroun","wordCount":9703,"readTime":49,"number":1,"state":"Published"},{"partId":"fe9aa31b-007b-4929-91f7-33d7f03fa875","title":null,"summary":" Chapter Two Skye slammed her fist\ninto the couch cushion, her long pink nails digging int","wordCount":8206,"readTime":41,"number":2,"state":"Published"},{"partId":"3f96e002-3f65-46a7-872e-d1b2b720c42a","title":null,"summary":" Chapter Three Skye stomped across\nthe safehouse floor, her pink stilettos clacking with e","wordCount":8707,"readTime":44,"number":3,"state":"Published"}],"currentPart":1,"contentTitle":"Chapter 1","content":"

$\"\"$

Chapter One

Skye Lowe crouched low\nbehind a rusted dumpster, her fingers tightening around her chewed-up pen as\nshe scratched notes into a notepad. She squinted at the spell den’s door across the\nalley, her hazel eyes narrowing as a shadow flickered behind its grimy window,\nprobably another junkie chasing a cheap hex fix.

Her leather jacket\nfaded from years of prowling Ebonreach’s underbelly, hung loosely over a gray tee that clung to\nher wiry frame. Her combat boots pressed into the slick pavement as she\nmuttered under her breath, “One more bastard caught, and I’ve got the front\npage locked in this damn city.” She shifted her weight, and her short brown\nhair brushed her neck, uneven from a hasty trim she’d done earlier that day.

Zane Keller swaggered\ninto her line of sight. Skye grimaced, his wrinkled button-down flapping open\nto reveal a slice of his tanned chest as he dangled a cheap glass vial in front\nof a middle-aged woman, the wife of a recently deceased politician.

He leaned in close,\nhis dark hair falling past his ears in a tousled mess that screamed careless\ncharm. His voice oozed honey as he purred, “One dab of this little beauty, sweetheart, and that\nhunky gardener is yours for life, better than any licensed spell from uptown.”\nThe widow’s trembling hands reached for it, her eyes wide with the kind of\ndesperation Skye saw too often in this sprawling mess of a metropolis, and her\nstomach twisted into a knot of disgust. She couldn’t stand how he preyed on the\nhopeless, couldn’t believe he’d stoop to peddling fake hexes in a city where\nreal magic ran wild and unchecked beneath the council’s nose.

She bolted upright,\nstepping out from her hiding spot with a snarl twisting her freckled face, “You’re filth, Keller,\npreying on widows now with your knockoff crap?” Her boots splashed through a\npuddle, sending up a spray of dirty water that speckled her cargo pants, and\nshe jabbed the pen toward him like she’d love to stab it through his chest.

Zane turned, his\ncrooked grin spreading as he pocketed the vial and leaned against a brick wall,\nhis sneakers scuffing over a faded rune someone had scratched into the ground, “And you’re a\nbuzzkill, Lowe, still chasing headlines no one gives a damn about in this\nhellhole?” His brown eyes glinted with mockery, and he crossed his arms, the\nbutton-down pulling tight at the shoulders where a faint sweat stain bloomed.

Skye took a step\ncloser, her voice rising as she clenched her fists at her sides, “At least I’m not a\nparasite scamming the vulnerable, you sleazy son of a bitch!” She could feel\nthe heat climbing her neck, her pulse hammering in her ears, and she hated how\nhis smirk never wavered.

Zane pushed off the\nwall, looming over her with a lazy swagger, his stubble catching the faint glow\nof a nearby neon sign as he fired back, “Better than playing holier-than-thou while you snoop\naround like a rat, give it up already. We all know you’re as much of a scumbag\nas I am” His breath carried a whiff of cheap whiskey, and she wrinkled her nose\nin disgust; she was nothing like him. She stepped into his space until they\nwere nearly chest-to-chest.

Their shouting\noverlapped, her words sharpening as she jabbed a finger into his sternum, “You’re a disgrace to\nthis city, and I’ll make sure every last soul knows it before I’m done!”

She felt the hard edge\nof his collarbone under her fingertip, her nails digging in just enough to make\nhim flinch. Still, his laugh cut through the humid air, low and mocking, “And you’re a\nsanctimonious hack who’d bore a corpse, Lowe; nobody cares about your little\ncrusade, and nobody reads your worthless articles!” He swatted her hand away,\nhis grin twisting into something uglier, and she opened her mouth to retort,\nher voice ready to climb another octave.

Before Skye could\nformulate her comeback, a crimson glow erupted beneath their feet, halting her\nmid-breath as a rune etched into the pavement flared to life. Skye stumbled\nback, her heart slamming against her ribs, and she clutched her notepad as the\nlight pulsed, searing her vision with jagged streaks.

Zane swore loudly, “What the hell is this\ncrap?” He staggered, and his hand flew to his temple as if he could claw the\nintrusion out.

Before Skye could\nshout again, a voice slithered into their minds, smooth and smug, “Perfect puppets, both\nof you.”

Skye’s knees buckled under\nthe weight of it, her pen clattering to the pavement, and she grabbed at her\nears, trying to block the sound that wasn’t there.

Zane spun around, his\neyes darting wildly as he barked, “Who’s there? Show yourself!” His voice cracked at the\nend, betraying the bravado he clung to, and Skye gritted her teeth. Her own\npanic rose as the air thickened with a strange, electric hum.

The voice returned,\ndripping with amusement, “No\nneed to shout; I’m already inside your heads.” Red sparks swirled around them,\nfaster and faster, until they merged into a blinding vortex. Skye’s stomach\nlurched as the ground seemed to drop away. She reached out instinctively, her\nfingers brushing Zane’s sleeve, but the magic yanked them apart, her scream\ntearing from her throat as the alley dissolved.

The journalist’s body twisted in the\nvoid, every nerve buzzing with a sickening jolt. She caught a glimpse of Zane’s\nflailing arms, his button-down flapping like a flag in a storm.

The voice purred\nagain, “You’re mine now; let’s\nsee how well you dance.”

Skye’s vision swam, her\nleather jacket pulling tight against her shoulders as the vortex tightened its\ngrip. She clawed at the air, desperate for something solid. The red light\nflared one last time, blinding her completely, and she felt herself falling,\nher mind reeling as the magic swallowed them whole.

❖

Skye hit the ground hard, her knees\nslamming into the cold tiles below her as the red vortex spat her out. She\ngasped, clutching her chest where her heart pounded beneath her jacket, and her\nhazel eyes darted around, taking in the mirrored walls of this unknown room\nthat threw back her disheveled reflection. The journalist could still feel the\nelectric jolt buzzing in her bones. She gasped and spat out a curse, “Where\nthe fuck are we now?”

Zane Keller landed\nbeside her with a grunt, catching himself against a velvet-draped column. His\nshirt flapped open wider, revealing more of his tanned chest. He raked a hand\nthrough his dark, tousled hair, his eyes blazing with fury. He straightened up and\nbarked, “What kind of\npantomime magic trick is this, Lowe?” His tone was accusational. The con artist\nglanced around, searching for an exit through the endless mirrors.

Skye whirled on him,\nher freckled face twisting with anger as she snapped, “Don’t pin this on me,\nyou jackass; you’re the one who triggered that rune with your dumb, big mouth!”\nShe stepped toward him, her combat boots thudding against the tile. The tomboy\nhated how Zane’s grin flickered back like he enjoyed pissing her off even now.

Before he could\nretort, the voice from the alley slithered into their minds again, smooth and\nsmug, “No need to bicker, my\npets; you’re exactly where I want you.” Skye’s stomach dropped at the sound of\nthe ominous voice, her hands returning to her temples, and she growled, “Get\nout of my head, you bastard!”

Zane staggered, the\nwords echoing in his mind. The self-confident man shouted, “Show your face,\ncoward!” His voice echoed off the mirrors, but the air shimmered in front of\nthem, and a figure coalesced from the haze, tall and silver-haired, his\npinstripe suit tailored sharp enough to cut glass.

The warlock smirked at\nthem, his piercing, pale blue eyes glinting with arrogance as he lounged on a\ngold and silver throne high above the transported pair. The ominous man’s long fingers\ndrummed on the armrest. “My name is Darius Vance. Welcome to the game of your\nlives,” He chuckled. “I am the puppet master, and you two are my newest toys.”\nHis voice carried a velvet edge, and he tilted his head, studying them like\nbugs under a lens.

Skye’s stomach churned at\nhis smugness, her fists tightening as she spat, “I’m nobody’s toy, you creepy\nson of a bitch; let us out of here!” She lunged towards the unknown man sitting\nhigh above them, but an invisible wall slammed her back, sending her sprawling\nonto her ass with a yelp.

Zane laughed, a harsh,\ngrating sound. Even in this predicament, he relished in her downfall. “Nice move, Skye. You’re\nreal smart.” The cocky con artist stared up at the flamboyant man, “Come on\nWilly Wonka. What’s the deal, then?”

Darius’s smirk widened, and\nhe gently leaned forward, “Ohh, don’t worry, pet,” Zane flinched at the man’s\nwords. “You are here to play my game. Over the course of one month, you will\npartake in eight separate challenges. Some of these challenges require you to\ncompete against each other, and some,” he chuckled. “Require you to work\ntogether.” Skye shuddered. She couldn’t work with this asshole if her life\ndepended on it, and it just might. His claw-like fingernails tapped the\narmrest, “Work together and win my game, or you both become my giggling bimbo\npuppets, ready to serve me and my illustrious clients.”

Skye’s blood ran cold; she\nhated all things feminine. She gagged, “What?! You sick son of a bitch, I’d\nrather die than play your twisted game!”

Zane’s grin vanished, his\nface paling as he muttered, “Bimbo puppets, what the hell does that even mean?”\n

Before the pair knew\nit, Darius snapped his fingers, and ruby-studded chokers materialized in the\nair, gleaming with a faint, ominous glow. Skye flinched as one shot toward her,\nsnapping around her neck with a cold, metallic click.

The journalist clawed\nat the choker possessing her neck, her nails scraping the smooth surface, “What the fuck is\nthis?!” She barked. The slim choker tightened briefly, pressing against her\nthroat, and she felt a jolt, her lips swelling for a heartbeat before shrinking\nback, leaving her spitting in disgust.

Zane’s choker locked on\nnext, and he yanked at it, his fingers fumbling as he roared, “I’m not wearing\nthis bullshit, you freak!” His choker pulsed, and his lips too plumped up, only\nto return to their former size.

Darius rose from his\nthrone, his suit rustling as he paced closer, “These chokers bind you to me, lose a challenge, and they\ntwist you, body and soul.” He stopped, towering over them, and his voice\ndripped with glee, “They’ll tweak you randomly, too, just to keep you\nmotivated.”

He clicked his\nfingers, and Skye’s\nchoker zapped again, a sharp sting blooming at her collarbone, causing brief\nexcruciating pain. The journalist hissed, “You’re a dead man!” Zane’s choker\nsparked in a similar fashion, and the con man yelped out. This man was a\nlunatic.

Darius clapped his\nhands, and the mirrors flared with red light. “Enough chatter. Your first challenge awaits in the\nplaza. Let’s see who bends first.”

Skye’s stomach dropped,\nher mind racing as she tried to process his words, and she shouted, “I’m not\nplaying, you hear me?” Zane stared in frozen awe as the magic flared brighter,\nand the pair felt their bodies twist again as the vortex reformed.

The brunette con\nartist finally found his voice, “You’ll pay for this, you bastard!” The red sparks\nswallowed them, Skye’s scream mixing with Zane’s as the chamber dissolved,\nhurling them back into the real world.

Skye’s boots hit the\npavement again, and she clutched at the choker, its ruby studs glinting under\nthe plaza’s neon glow.

Zane landed beside\nher, landing hard on his ass before he pounded a fist into the ground, “What the hell just\nhappened?”

Darius’s voice purred one\nlast time in both of their ears. “The game starts now, puppets. Let’s dance.”\nSkye’s heart raced, her mind reeling with fury and dread, and she knew this was\nonly the beginning of their nightmare.

❖

Skye once again clutched at the\nruby-studded choker around her neck, its cold metal tight against her skin as\nshe staggered upright on the plaza pavement. She shot a glare around the\njostling crowd, her hazel eyes blazing with fury as shouts and laughter bounced\noff the nearby market. Her fists clenched at her sides, nails digging into her\npalms, and she hissed, “That bastard better\nnot think I’m playing his game!” Neon lights of the cyberpunk city flickered\noverhead, casting sharp lines across her freckled cheeks as she looked around.

Zane pounded a fist\ninto the pavement, his knuckles scraping as he scrambled up from where he’d landed on his ass.\nHis brown eyes flared with rage, and he barked, “This is bullshit, Lowe. I’ve\nheard of these warlocks pulling shit like this, but not in Ebonreach.” He wiped\nhis mouth with the back of his hand, spitting onto the ground as he glared at\nthe milling strangers. He stood, brushing dust off his pants, and his stubble\nbristled as he clenched his jaw, scanning the crowd. Why were they sent here?

Skye opened her mouth\nto speak, but Darius Vayne’s\nsudden voice slithered into their minds, smooth and taunting, “This is your\nfirst challenge, my delightful puppets.” The journalist flinched, her stomach\ntwisting as his words settled, and two tubes of bright, crimson lipstick\nmaterialized in front of them, hovering in the air with a faint shimmer. Darius\nspoke, “Wear the enchanted lipstick; it’ll have a nice effect on those lips of\nyours. Once you’re wearing it, kiss 10 strangers in the next hour. Man, woman,\nI don’t care. Pucker up.”

Skye’s blood ran cold. She\nhad only worn makeup about three times in her life. She growled, “You’re insane\nif you think I’m doing that!”

Zane laughed, a sharp,\ngrating bark, and he crossed his arms, his stubble shadowing a sneer, “No way I’m slapping\nthat crap on my face. Do I look like a sissy to you?” His voice dripped with\ndisdain, and he flicked a hand at the tubes, sending one tumbling to the cold,\nhard concrete below.

Skye raised an\neyebrow. She had no idea what the punishment for noncompliance was. The asshole\nhad already demonstrated his power. She needed to do this. The tomboy snatched\nher tube, muttering, “Fine,\nI’ll do it.” She twisted the cap off, the lipstick’s waxy scent hitting her\nnose, and she smeared it across her lips. Her skin suddenly prickled, and she\nsaw Zane’s humored face. This wasn’t good. Her lips began to balloon, further\nand further, until they turned into bright red, permanently pouting pornstar\nbimbo lips.

The journalist’s hands flew to her\nface, her fingers brushing the swollen, glossy flesh in horror, “What the fuck\nis this?!” Her voice came out thicker, muffled by the ridiculous pout, and she\nglared at Zane, who doubled over laughing, his cackle cutting through the\nmarket noise. She lunged forward, her fists clenched, “You think this is funny,\nyou bastard?” The con artist stepped back, still chuckling, and Skye groaned in\nfrustration.

Darius’s voice purred in her\nhead, “Nine minutes down, puppets, better start puckering those lips.” Skye\nfroze, her stomach churning at the thought of her enlarged lips touching\nanyone.

She spun around,\nspotting a wiry vendor selling luminous potions. She approached the man,\ngrabbed his collar, and mashed her bloated lips against his, the contact wet\nand clumsy. He shoved her off, cursing, “Get lost, freak!” She ignored him, her choker buzzing\nfaintly as she moved to the next, planting a sloppy kiss that left a crimson\nsmear on the unsuspecting woman’s lips.

Skye’s throat tightened as\nshe stumbled toward a third stranger, a lanky kid with a skateboard slung over\nhis shoulder. She grabbed his arm, her swollen lips smacking against his lips\nwith a sticky squelch, and he jerked back, shouting, “What’s your problem, you\nweirdo?!” Until he saw the woman standing before him and her bloated appendage.\n“Maybe you’d like to kiss somewhere else?” He suggested crudely.

The journalist ignored\nhim and counted under her breath, “Three,” and pushed through the crowd, her boots thudding\nas she kissed a tattooed woman who recoiled with a scowl. The journalist’s face\nburned with shame, her choker pulsing as she grabbed a half-unconscious drunk\nwith a bottle in his hand, kissing him hard enough to make him spill his drink,\n“Five.” She gagged from the alcohol on his breath and cussed herself. Did she\nreally have to do this?

Zane leaned against a\nlamp post, his arms still crossed as he watched his rival get to work, “This is great, Lowe;\nthose lips could suck a damn chrome pipe!” His voice humorously carried over\nthe bustling plaza. The con man smirked, refusing to get involved. “You can win\nthis for us, pretty lips!”

Skye glared at him,\nher giant pout trembling, and she snarled, “Fuck you, Keller!” She pressed her lips against a sixth\nstranger, planting a wet kiss that left him blinking in confusion.

Skye hit seven,\nkissing a shy teen who stood in awe, and the transformed journalist wiped her\nmouth, the gloss smearing onto her sleeve as she growled. “Have you had your\nfun?” She cries up to the sky as if talking to an all-powerful deity. “You sick\nson of a bitch!” She grabbed an eighth stranger, a street busker playing\nguitar, her lips leaving a red print against his own. Then she kissed a ninth,\nalmost there.

Skye spotted her tenth\nstranger, an old man with a limp. He grinned wildly as she approached him,\nhaving seen what she had been up to. He puckered up before she even reached the\nold man. The brunette woman mashed her bloated lips against his, pulling away\nas he cackled, “Well,\nain’t that a treat!”

She stepped back,\npanting, “Ten, done, you\nasshole!”

After a brief moment,\nSkye’s lips slowly shrank\nback to their regular size, and the lipstick began to disappear. The magic\nenchantment faded with a sharp prick, removing the remnants of the challenge,\nand Skye spat onto the ground, her tongue curling in revulsion. “That was\nfucking gross.” Zane mockingly applauded her as she completed the challenge.

Darius’s voice filled their\nheads, cold and gleeful, “Well done, Skye, you’re a real team player. You’ve\nwon this round,” he said. “However, Zane, your refusal has a price.” The voice\nsaid ominously before the fraudster’s choker flared, a red jolt that made him\nclutch his throat, “No, wait—what?!” Without any further warning, his lips\nbegan to swell, inflating further and further, moving past the point of Skye’s\npreviously obscene lips, until they formed a fat, puckered, glossy pout.

The rugged brunette\ntouched them, his hands trembling, and he roared, “You twisted fuck,\nwhat is this?” The voice returned. “Those are permanent, by the way. Perhaps\nyou’ll want to take part next time.”

Skye laughed a harsh,\nvictorious cackle, “Now\nthat’s karma, Keller; you’re a damn blow-up doll now!” She covered her own\nmouth as she let out a hearty belly laugh.

Zane’s face flushed\ncrimson, his fists balling in fury, “Shut your trap, bitch!” He bit back at his\nnemesis. “I’ll destroy you!” His words lacked the same conviction as they used\nto before he had to contend with fleshy DSLs.

Darius’s voice emanated\ninside the pair’s skull again, “One challenge down, seven to go. Zane, better\nrethink your strategy before we move on.”

Skye’s grin faded, her win\nsouring as she realized the nightmare wasn’t over, and she muttered, “Just let\nus go, you bastard.” Skye’s gut twisted in the silence, knowing Vayne’s game\nhad only just begun.

❖

The tomboy shoved open the safehouse door,\nher boots thudding heavily as she trudged inside. Vance had given them an\naddress where they were required to stay between challenges, and after what she\nhad just seen, neither of them was taking any chances.

She rubbed her throat\nwhere the ruby choker clung, its cold metal a lingering itch, and she muttered,\n“That was humiliating;\nI’m done with this crap.” Her hazel eyes flicked around the dim room,\nexhaustion etching her freckled face as she slumped onto a rickety stool, her\nfists unclenching with a tired groan. The challenge’s embarrassment stung, but\nshe’d won, a sour victory that left her drained rather than triumphant.

Zane stormed in behind\nher, slamming the door so hard the frame creaked, his fat, glossy lips pursed\nin a permanent pout that turned his rugged jaw into a grotesque caricature. He\nroared, “Humiliating!? Look at\nthis shit!” His brown eyes blazed with fury and shame, pointing to his plush\nmouth, fingers trembling as he lurched toward a couch, collapsing onto it with\na thud. His voice slurred through the obscene swell, “When I find that magical\npiece of shit, I’m gonna kill him!”

Skye’s lips twitched into\na faint smirk, the journalist’s voice dry as she replied, “You did that to\nyourself, Keller, sitting back while I had to kiss those creeps.” She leaned\nforward, elbows on her knees. Her win felt hollow, the choker’s faint hum a\nreminder of Darius’s control. Zane’s refusal had forced her into that degrading\nmess alone, and though she’d come out ahead, the dread of what lay next coiled\ntight in her gut.

The fraudster shot up,\nhis fists clenched as he growled, “You think I’d smear that crap on my face after seeing\nwhat it did to you? Fuck that, I’m not playing his game!” His glossy pout\nquivered with every word, mangling his speech into a humiliating mumble.

“Look where not playing his game got you?” Skye clapped\nback. “I think you’re too dense for your own good, sometimes.” Before Zane\ncould retort, a loud knock rattled the door. Both competitors tensed before\nSkye tentatively opened the wooden door.

A lanky courier stood\nthere, his gray cap pulled low over dull eyes, a padded envelope clutched in\nhis hand. He thrust it forward, his voice flat, “Package for Zane Keller.” The brunette con artist\nsnatched it, his swollen lips slightly parted as he tore it open, revealing\npouches labeled “Bimbo Food” in gaudy pink letters, the tagline boasting, “Perfect\nfor tender lips.”

Skye’s smirk widened, the\ntomboy stifling a laugh as she leaned against the wall, “Looks like Vance knows\nhow to rub it in.”

Zane’s face flushed\ncrimson, his roar slurring through his pout, “That bastard’s mocking me!” He\nhurled the envelope into a dented trash bin, the pouches spilling out as he\nkicked the bin, sending it clattering against a chipped counter.

The courier shrugged,\nturning to leave without another word, the door creaking shut behind him. Skye\nopened her mouth to rub it in further when her choker inexplicably flared. “Aghhh!” she moaned. A\nsharp jolt pierced her navel with a silver stud topped off with a heart-shaped\njewel. She gasped, lifting her t-shirt to witness the new jewelry. “What the\nhell?! I won the challenge!”

Her nails picked at\nthe piercing, but it held firm, without any clasp to remove it, a fresh insult\nto her tomboy identity. Zane’s\neyes flicked to it, his glossy lips curling into a sneer, “Serves you right,\nyou smug bitch; not so nice when it’s on the other foot, eh?”

The journalist shot to\nher feet, her voice icy as she snapped, “Serves me right? You’re the one who fucked us, Keller! I\nhad to do that challenge by myself because you’re a damn coward!” Her choker\nbuzzed faintly, a warning of worse to come, and she paced the room, her boots\nclunking on the warped floorboards.

Zane stood up, visibly\nangry, “Coward? I’m not the\none kissing strangers like some desperate slut; you played right into his\nhands!” His slurred words dripped with venom, the permanent pout twisting his\nfury into a pathetic whine.

Skye stopped, her\nhazel eyes narrowing as she leaned into his face, “And look where that\ngot you, bimbo lips! You’re a walking joke now. I think I made the right\nchoice.” She sank back onto the stool, muttering, “He’s not letting us go, we’re\nscrewed either way.”

Zane rubbed his\nswollen lips, his voice low, “That warlock’s dead. When I get him, I’ll choke him with\nmy bare hands.” His threat was hollow. The silence stretched, broken only by\nthe faint hum of the city outside. What did the warlock have up his sleeve\nnext?

❖

The following day, Skye was lounging about\nwith her back laid across the sofa, occasionally stealing glances at her rival\nand his new plump lips in the kitchen, unable to stop herself from grinning\neach time. She was jolted upright when the ruby choker around her neck flared,\na sudden buzz that prompted the brunette to clasp at the slim collar again.

Zane’s identical reaction\ntold Skye that she wasn’t alone. The con artist stepped into the lounge as the\npair heard that now familiar ominous voice in their ears. Darius Vayne was\nback. “Time for your second challenge, my precious pets,” he said joyously, as\nthough he reveled in their discomfort.

“What is this creep’s problem?” Zane replied, clawing at\nhis buzzing collar, his lips struggling to close fully.

Skye parted her lips\nto respond when two black hairbrushes materialized in the air before the pair,\nmuch like the lipstick tubes had the previous day. Skye shook her head. “No! Not again. Enough\nwith this bimbo shit!” She scowled.

Darius laughed\nmenacingly, a noise that reverberated around the room. “Ohh, this will be\nfun,” he gloated. “Your hair is about to get sensitive, very sensitive. You\nwill both be required to brush your hair 100 times without losing control.” The\nvoice paused for effect. “That means without orgasming. The first player to\nreach orgasm loses and receives a forfeit. If you both succeed, I may reward\nyou.” His cackle made Skye’s blood run cold. Suddenly, her scalp began to\ntingle, as each strand of hair turned into a sensitive erogenous zone. Zane’s\ngasp told her that he felt the same.”

The tomboy snatched a\nbrush. She didn’t\nwant to participate in this madness, but she saw what happened to her criminal\nrival last time. Reluctantly, she dragged the brush through her hair, the\nbristles scraping her scalp, and a shiver raced down her spine. She softly bit\nher lip and stifled a moan. That felt good, too good.

Zane raised an\neyebrow. His much shorter dark locks prickling with the same sensitivity as\nSkye’s. He grabbed hold of\nthe remaining brush and followed suit, his body shuddering as the brush made\ncontact with his hair. “Fuck, what is this perverted shit?” He asked.

The pair took turns\nbrushing their hair; each run along the sensitive strands sent erotic messages\nto their groins. After five brushes each, Skye was clearly having the tougher\ntime. With the longer hair, her brushes were far lengthier and erotic. Zane kept\nscore, “Seven, eight,” he\npanted with his over-bloated lips.

As the number crawled\npast ten, the journalist’s\nhand started to tremble, her lips parted in unwanted sensual moans. Despite his\nown predicament, Zane enjoyed the sounds emanating from his rival’s man. “Damn,\nLowe. You could make a lot of money working for one of those sex call\noperators.” Skye silently flipped him the bird and concentrated on calming her\nbreathing.

Skye hit twelve, “Fuck!” she moaned.\nEach strand of her shoulder-length hair felt as sensitive as an exposed clit,\nand she couldn’t prevent her breath from panting heavily and needy. The\nsensations clawed at her, her scalp burning in ecstasy with every stroke. “Sixteen,\nseventeen,” Zane said as they continued to take turns.

Zane felt the pleasure\nrun towards his cock. Still, his strokes were short and methodical, allowing\nhim to maintain control over his body. He had also practiced edging before, so\nthis was nothing to him. He grinned over at his tomboy nemesis, staring on as\nshe had a much tougher time controlling herself.

“Not gonna break…” the woman egged herself on. “Twenty,\ntwenty-one,” she heard the running total, but it was too much. As Zane reached\ntwenty-four, Skye cried out in pleasure, with a shudder ripping through her\nentire body, “Fuccckkkk!” She screamed, the orgasm taking over. Her climax hit\nher hair, her knees giving out as she collapsed onto the ground, the thud of\nthe brush hitting the wooden floor echoing around the room.

As Skye cried out and\nspasmed in orgasmic pleasure, Zane stopped brushing his hair. He had won. He\nstared down at the writhing mess crying out; the slutty moans escaping the\ntomboy’s lips were not\nsomething he ever thought he’d see a few days ago. “Where is your self-control,\nSkye?” He grinned. “You little slut.”

Skye lay sprawled out\nand defeated, her chest heaving in heavy breaths as she glared up at the\nsmirking man. “I\nfucking hate you,” she retorted. How could a man wearing such ridiculous lips\nact so cocky?

The journalist’s choker flared and\nvibrated around her neck, and her hair tingled once more. However, this time,\nthe sensations weren’t orgasmic or sensitive; they were signaling a\ntransformation. Her cropped brown hair stretched, lengthening past her\nshoulders and further down her back. The color also lightened, as if the magic\nwas draining the saturation out of each strand before brightening into an\neccentric blond color. Within moments, Skye's tomboy brunette hair had\ntransformed into long, mid-back length, wavy platinum blond locks.

The bemused journalist\ngrabbed a fistful of her new hair, her voice rising. “What the hell is\nthis?!” She exclaimed. The choker stopped pulsing, and her transformation\nsettled. “You’ve given me damn Barbie hair, you asshole!” Her voice was hoarse\nafter the explosive orgasm she had suffered through.

The con artist sat\nback on a tall stool to avoid tumbling over in laughter. He wiped a tear from\nhis eye. “Ohh, that’s\npriceless,” he said between chuckles. “You look like a real princess now,\nprincess.”

Skye scowled at her\nrival. That bastard. “Laugh\nit up, big lips.” She retorted, reminding him of his own humiliating\ntransformation. “We’ll see who’s laughing when this is all said and done.”

Zane’s laughter faltered,\nhis natural pout reforming. She was right. This wasn’t over. Not by a long\nshot. “I’m going to find that son of a bitch before this is over, and I’m going\nto give him a taste of his own medicine.” Skye nodded, brushing a long blond\nstrand out of her face. Finally, something they could agree on. They still had\nsix challenges remaining, and the warlock was molding them like they were his\nplaythings. The grim promise of worse lay ahead.

❖

Sky shuffled into the safehouse kitchen,\nher new platinum blond hair swaying as she yanked open the dented fridge door.\nShe grabbed herself a barely cooled beer, popping the cap with a flick of her\nthumb. She flicked a strand of hair that was blocking her view. “Ughh,\nhow do those prissy girls seriously live like this?” her hazel eyes narrowed in\nfrustration. She was exhausted; that orgasm had taken a lot out of her.

Zane slumped on a tall\nstool by the counter, his fat, glossy lips finishing off a bottle of his own.\nHe looked over at the complaining woman and grinned. “Still whining about\nyour princess hair?” He taunted. “I think it fits you perfectly.” His brown\neyes glinted with smug satisfaction.

Skye slammed her beer\ndown on the kitchen counter. “Alright, cut it out, bimbo lips!” She exclaimed. She was\na serious hard ass and had no time for the small-time crook’s juvenile jokes. “I’m\nnot the one who looks like a cheap hooker!” Alright, maybe she was the type to\ncrack jokes. The blond stood up and began pacing the kitchen.

Zane followed her with\nhis eyes, his grin widening as he retorted. “Cheap hooker? Did you hear yourself earlier?” He asked. “You\nwere screaming like a damn porn star.”

Before the journalist\ncould fire back, Zane’s\nsudden gasp stole her attention. His choker began to vibrate and warm up. “What\nthe- No! Not now!” He cried out. Darius Vance had warned them that they would\nbe subjected to ‘random’ transformations between challenges to ‘motivate’ them;\nthat was how Skye ended up with the cute, feminine heart piercing on her belly\nbutton. Now, it was Zane’s turn.

The con artist’s tongue tingled\nbefore a sharp sting pushed into the center and punched a silver stud into\nplace. Like Skye’s new piercing, this one had no clasp to allow removal. Zane\nsuddenly had a silver stud in his tongue, and he could do nothing about it. “What’s\nthis?” The combination of his newly inflated lips and the piercing caused him\nto slur his words slightly, creating a slight lisp.

Skye stepped closer\nand chuckled, temporarily forgetting about her own predicament. “Ohh, big lips and a\ntongue stud?” She asked. “What a pretty little mouth you got there, baby girl.”\nShe taunted.

The stud clicked\nagainst Zane’s\nteeth, and he spat on the floor in disgust. “Shut your trap, you blond tart!”\nHe snapped back, flicking his tongue and wincing as the stud caught his plump\nlip. He slammed his fist down on the counter. “This humiliation has gone on\nlong enough!” He tried to pull at the collar he assumed was the source of this\nmagic, but he couldn’t pry it free. The choker was fixed in place.

Skye glanced around\nthe safe house. If Vance was playing a game, then there had to be a way to win.\nThey needed to think smart. Well, she needed to think smart, she thought; Zane\ndidn’t have that ability.\nShe left the room to search for clues as her rival clawed at his choker in\nvain.

❖

A couple of days went by without a peep\nfrom Darius Vayne. Impatiently, Skye attempted to leave altogether the previous\nday, eager to forget about this damn game and get back to exposing crooks and\nfrauds. However, her choker began to vibrate when she reached the front door.\nShe didn’t want to poke the bear needlessly, so she gave in and\ntrudged back inside.

Both rivals had had\nenough of each other’s\nteasing jibes. They were in this game together, but they hated each other\npassionately. When the opportunity arose, they couldn’t resist digging into the\nother.

As the newly blond\nSkye leaned over the kitchen countertop, sipping a warm beer, her choker began\nto flare up again. Her hands immediately flew to her neck. Anticipating a ‘random’ change, she\nwas half-relieved when she heard Darius’ words echo through her ears.

“Time for challenge three, my delicious pets,” he\ntaunted. Skye looked over at Zane and knew he was hearing the exact same drivel\nby the concerned expression on his face, made more cartoonish by those plump\nDSLs. “Let’s play a little game where cooperation is key,” Vance continued.

Zane stood up from the\nsofa he was resting on. He knew there could be no genuine cooperation between\nthe two. “This is bullshit.\nJust let us go, Vance!” He exclaimed, his slight lisp from the new tongue\npiercing barely noticeable. The con artist’s smug win from a few days ago\nseemed like a distant memory. “We’re done with your dumb games.”

Before the pair could\nact, Skye’s clothes suddenly\nvanished, leaving her completely exposed and bare; her small, B-cup tits\nrevealed in Zane’s presence, the untamed hair on her public mound and under her\narms noticeable, the faint chill of the wind brushing against her bare skin.\nZane’s grin suddenly widened as Skye looked mortified. Nothing seemed to happen\nto the con man’s outfit, whereas the new blond wore nothing except that cursed\nchoker.

Before Skye could ask\nwhat the hell was going on, a black blindfold snapped tight over her eyes. The\njournalist instinctively lifted her arms and tried to remove the blindfold, but\nit wouldn’t budge; she couldn’t\nsee a thing.

“I’m liking the look of this,” Zane taunted as a small\nmicrophone appeared in his hand, and an earpiece appeared in the naked blond’s\near.

“The name of the game is simple,” Darius announced. “Zane\nwill be Skye’s eyes in public. He will direct her from downtown, as she is now,\nback safely to this house. Win, and you both receive a reward. However, if you\nfail, punishment looms.”

Skye parted her lips\nto complain. This doesn’t\nseem fair. However, before she could speak, she disappeared entirely inside the\nsafety of the safe house. She reappeared in the center of a downtown park. The\nTV screen in the safehouse turned on. It showed a naked and blindfolded Skye in\npublic, leering surprised eyes all around her. However, her lack of sight kept\nher ignorant.

“Ohh, this will be good,” Zane grinned. He would need to\nkeep a mental image of this moment, he thought to himself. “Right, Princess,\nlet’s get this ball rolling. Go straight ahead.”

Skye seethed. “Don’t you fucking\ndare call me princess!” She retorted, but the communication was only one way.\nZane couldn’t hear a word his blind rival was saying, although he could see her\nlips moving, which made him chuckle.

Skye stumbled forward,\njust wanting to get this humiliation over with. “Turn left here, cutie,” each direction was a stab into\nher soul, designed to humiliate her. She groaned but complied - She had no real\nchoice.

“Mmm, baby, want me to take you somewhere?” A slimy,\nhomeless man asked the naked, blindfolded woman. Skye shuddered and continued\nwalking. It had only just occurred to her how this must look to ordinary\npeople.

Zane, however, was\nhaving the time of his life. “Stop at the crosswalk, Princess. Now, go,” he directed,\ninching her ever closer to the safe house and having a great time doing it.

“Fuck you, Zane!” She barked in public. “I’m not your\ndamn puppet.” But the brunette man couldn’t hear her, and she merely had to\ngrit through her humiliation. She’d make him pay one way or another.

As Zane edged her\ncloser, the puppet master whispered in his ear. “Looks like you’re having fun there,” he teased. “Do you\nreally want it to end, or do you want to get your revenge for that piece she\nwrote about you last year?” Sowing devious thoughts in the brunette’s mind.

Left here, blondie,” he said before\nabruptly changing his mind. “No, actually, right.”

“Stop playing around, you asshole,” Skye exclaimed before\nturning right.

“Almost there, babe,” Zane encouraged. “Just step through\nthat door.” He had led her to a building, although it wasn’t the safehouse he\noriginally intended.

Skye immediately knew\nshe was in the wrong place when she stepped foot into the building and heard\nthe hearty, rowdy chatter from the men around her. Zane had led the blond to a\nrough-and-tumble biker bar across the street from the house they were staying\nin.

“You a little lost, sweetheart?” Skye heard a gravelly\nvoice question her presence.

“What the fuck?” She snapped. “I’m going to kill you,\nKeller!”

As Skye stood there,\nfuming at her predicament, she felt an arm wrap around her shoulders, its hand\nfirmly grasping one of her exposed breasts. “No, I…” she tried to protest before being interrupted by\na man.

“Let ole Tyson look after you, I know what you need.” He\nled Skye further into the bar, every gaze following them. She shuddered; what\nwas about to happen?

“I like it when girls get kinky,” Tyson said casually\nbefore guiding her to her knees on the far side of the bar.

“Kinky? No, I…Ughh!” Suddenly, metal shackles closed\naround her wrists and ankles, a thick chain connecting them and keeping her on\nher knees. Before she could clarify the situation, a wide O-ring gag slid into\nSkye’s mouth, forcing her lips apart and leaving her completely exposed.

“Come on, boys, give this one what she wants,” Tyson\ninstructed his crew as he unzipped his pants.

He took out his thick,\nerect shaft and lowered it towards Skye’s open mouth. Her eyes widened in shock as he pushed\nhimself between her lips without any warning. Skye tried to protest, but it was\nmuffled by the gag.

Tyson held onto the\nback of her head and began thrusting forcefully into her mouth. She gagged as\nhe moved deeper down her throat. Each thrust brought tears to Skye’s eyes as she\nstruggled for air.

As Tyson finished with\nher, another man stepped up, equally eager to take his turn with Skye. The\nsecond man was even more aggressive than Tyson, holding her head tightly as he\npushed himself further into her throat. Skye’s face turned a shade of red as she desperately tried to\nbreathe.

The men continued to\ntake turns with Skye, one after another. Each brought their own level of force\nand dominance over the helpless woman on her knees. Skye’s body shook with\neach thrust, her mind racing with confusion and panic.

After the last man had\nfinished, their heavy breathing filled the bar as they stood back and admired\ntheir work. Skye, covered in sweat, saliva, and a mouth and face full of cum,\nwas left on her knees – humiliated and defeated, until Tyson finally released\nthe gag and her bonds.

Zane watched the\nentire scene play out on the TV, elated as each cock that entered her mouth.\nThat couldn’t\nhave played out any better. It turned him on so much that he ended up with his\nown cock in his hands.

As Skye’s blindfold\ndissolved, allowing her to see, and she ran from the bar, Zane felt his own\nchoker begin to pulse and vibrate. His hands immediately flew to the thin band\naround his neck. “What the-?” He exclaimed.

Darius’ voice invaded his\nthoughts: “My my... What a naughty little boy you are, sabotaging your partner\nlike that.” Zane shuddered, clawing at the collar. “For your sabotage, you lost\nthis round. Now you will suffer the consequences.”

“You tricked me, you bastard!” Zane screamed out with his\ncomically large lips, and he felt a strange tickling sensation on his chest. “No!\nNo way!” He cried as his chest began to expand and strain against the button-up\nshirt he was wearing.

Ten minutes later,\nSkye slammed the door open. “You\nfucking piece of shit! She exclaimed. “Wait until I get my hands on-” The blond’s\neyes widened, and she paused, her mouth gaping open in shock, a remnant of cum\nstill on her face.

She stared at Zane on\nhis knees, looking distraught, his hands cupping the huge, fake-looking G-cup\nbreasts that looked out of place high on his chest. The expansion ripped his\nbuttons, rendering the shirt useless, and the former playboy cupped his new assets\nin horror, staring up at the blond.

“Look what that bastard did to me!” he yelled,\ndesperation lacing his voice.

A sly grin crossed\nSkye’s face as she took in\nZane’s new appearance. This was karmic justice. “That’s exactly what you\ndeserve, you son of a bitch,” she spat. “That is karma.”

His punishment wasn’t done yet as he\nwinced and then winced again. Suddenly, as he removed his hands to examine the\ncause of his stinging pain, Skye noticed a silver barbell in each of his new\nengorged nipples, pretty decorating around pretty G-cup monstrosities.

The blond folded her\narms. She had been subjected to humiliation and face-fucking, but at least\njustice was served.

❖

A few days had passed since that blindside\nchallenge, and Zane was still seething. What should have been a satisfying act\nof revenge for all the times Skye had foiled his plots turned into a horrifying\ntransformation that earned him a pair of firm, fake G-cup breasts with silver\nbarbell piercings decorating his now prominent nipples.

“That bastard turned me into a freak show!” He roared,\nhis fat, glossy lips trembling with fury as he sat uncomfortably at the dinner\ntable. He wore an oversized black t-shirt in an attempt to cover up his new\nmonstrosities, but nothing could truly hide his new bosom.

Skye lounged on the\ncouch. She had her own reasons to be furious with the game and the puppet\nmaster, but seeing Zane in his current form dulled her frustration a little. “Aww, baby. Those\nudders giving you backache?” She grinned and teased. He had received those\nassets by sabotaging her, which was delightful to see. The journalist brushed a\nstrand of bright, blond hair from her eyes, the result of her own\ntransformation from the second challenge. “Maybe next time you’ll think twice\nbefore screwing me over.”

Zane lifted his head\nand scowled. “Think\ntwice?” He asked. “You’d have done the exact same thing if it was me out there!”\nHe whined. “I’m not the enemy here; that perverted puppet master is.”

Skye shuddered; the\nmemory of being bound and gagged, having her mouth taken again and again\ncircled in her mind. Zane was an asshole. “I’m not like you, Zane,” she barked back. “I have a\nmoral compass.” The truth was that she wasn’t sure what she would have done in\nhis position. Would she have guided him home safely without sabotaging him? “You\nare right, though,” she admitted. “Vance is the real enemy.”

The pair nodded in\nagreement, but the moment swiftly disappeared when Skye’s thin choker began\nflaring again. “No! What this time?!” She exclaimed. It didn’t take long for\nher to discover the problem as her short, unpainted, heavily bitten fingernails\nbegan to tingle and vibrate.

Very slowly, each of\nher fingernails began to stretch, lengthening into long, manicured claws,\ntidily smooth at the tips as though she had just left one of those prissy nail\nsalons. The nails were at least an inch past each fingernail before they\nstopped growing, and then they changed color. “No! No fucking way!” Skye wanted to gag. Staring down at\nher nails, she saw long, perfectly manicured, bright pink claws looking back at\nher. “Pink? I fucking hate pink!” Her anger was difficult to hide.

Despite his huge\nbreasts, tongue and nipple piercings, and comically large lips, Zane couldn’t help but laugh at\nhis rival’s sudden transformation. She was a tomboy through and through, and he\nknew how much the blond hair and pink nails would destroy her mentally. “Wow,\nyou’re turning into quite the Barbie,” he mocked. “Add in a nicer attitude, and\nI’d fuck you.” He laughed.

Skye, still seething,\nraised an eyebrow. “Seriously?\nYou’re the one with stripper tits that would make a pornstar jealous, and you’re\ncalling me the Barbie?” Her retort wasn’t original, but it pushed the right\nbuttons. “Just remember where your antics have gotten you the next time you try\nto set me up.”

The newly busty man\ngroaned. “Set you up?” He\nasked. “Don’t act like you weren’t moaning like some whore each time they\nentered your mouth, you blond tramp.” He teased. “I just gave you what you\nwanted.” He allowed a subtle grin to cross his lips.

The blond journalist\nclenched her fists before gasping as the new, long fingernails stabbed the\npalms of her hands. She shook in frustration. “Arghhh!” She screamed out. “You’re fucking unbearable!”\nSky couldn’t stand being around her nemesis any longer and stormed out of the\nroom towards her private bedroom.

Zane’s smirk grew wider.\nHe still knew how to press her buttons, and watching her explode like that was\nenjoyable. His cheeky grin faltered slightly when he peered down, suddenly\nreminded of the bolt-on tits attached to his chest. He needed to soldier on and\nsurvive this game.

❖

A week had crept by since that ‘blind’\ndowntown disaster, and the safehouse lounge was a simmering pit of resentment.\nSkye slumped on the couch, her long blond hair spilling over the armrest as she\nnursed her latest beer, her new, long, manicured, bubblegum pink nails clinking\nnervously against the bottle.

The journalist’s hazel eyes\nnarrowed, the memory of that biker bar incident still seared in her mind; she\nwas sure she could still taste their cum in her mouth. She glared over at Zane.

Zane sat at the wobbly\ndinner table, his oversized navy green t-shirt stretched tight over his\ninflated, out-of-place fake breasts, the silver barbell piercings poking\nthrough like cruel taunts. His fists were clenched as the weight on his chest\nwas a constant reminder of his twisted fortunes over the last couple of weeks. “What’re you staring\nat?” He noticed Skye peering at him. “I’ll rip these things off and shove them\ndown your throat!”

Skye chuckled lightly,\ntaking another sip of her beet. “Keep dreaming, big tits,” she teased. “Those bimbo\nudders look pretty attached to your chest.” She stood up, intending to leave\nthe room before another argument and taunting match broke out. However, before\nshe could saunter off, her magical choker flared up and vibrated around her\nneck.

“What the-?” She exclaimed, terrified that another random\ntransformation was approaching until she saw Zane’s similar reaction. This must\nbe a new challenge.

As if on cue, the pair\nheard the ominous voice in their heads. “Time for round four, my pretty puppets,” Darius Vance\ntaunted. Suddenly, the room began to spin, and the pair felt dizzier and\ndizzier as the space expanded and morphed around them.

When the spinning\nhalted, the duo was no longer in the safe house. Well, they were, but not as\nthey knew it. Everything around them was filled with pastel colors—pinks,\nblues, and yellows—and had a distinctive plastic look to it. “Where the fuck are\nwe?” Zane asked in a panic. It didn’t take long to receive an answer,

“Welcome to the dollhouse, my pets,” Vance victoriously\ndeclared. “You’ve been shrunken to 10 inches, and the only way to return to\nyour original size is to follow the clues and escape this house.”

Skye glanced around.\nThey were inside a doll house? She stepped towards a window and could clearly\nsee they were still inside the safe house, with the children’s toy placed on the\ndinner table. She shuddered. Magic was freaky as hell.

Zane parted his lips,\nbut both collars flickered again, and their casual attire disappeared before\ntheir eyes. Skye’s\nuntrimmed pubic hair was exposed just above her slit, the navel heart-piercing\nflickering in the artificial light. Zane’s 7” member swayed freely while his\nhuge fake tits sat loud and proud on his chest.

Skye’s hands immediately\ncovered her groin and chest. Still, they soon moved elsewhere when a large pink\nball appeared inside the journalist’s mouth, stretching her jaw wide. Black\nstraps wrapped around her head to form a tightly fitted harness gag, with a\npadlock in the back ensuring the gag would stay in place.

Zane found himself in\nthe same predicament; only his ball gag was bright red. “Mmphh-mm?” He called\nout in protest, his words highly muffled by the invading gag.

“You have two hours,” Darius chanted in their ears. “Escape\nby then and return to your old fate. Fail, and you will be spending much longer\ninside this luxury home.” He chuckled, clearly enjoying the rivals’ joint\nhumiliation. “Time starts now.”

“Mrpph mumpph,” Skye murmured out. Two hours to escape\nthe locked house, or risk being tiny dolls forever? Her eyes darted around in a\npanic. She tried not to stare at Zane’s ridiculous lips wrapped around his red\ngag; this wasn’t the time for teasing or jokes.

The room they were in\nwas a nightmare of excess, bubblegum pink walls, a glittering chandelier\ndangling overhead, and plastic furniture looming like pastel giants. Skye’s bare feet sank into\nthe carpet as she scanned the space, spotting a wardrobe with a sliding panel\netched with the words: ‘Dress to Progress’ on the front.

She shuffled closer,\nher blond locks brushing her shoulders, and attempted to slide the door open,\nbut the damn thing wouldn’t\nbudge. The journalist examined the door as she felt Zane’s breath bare down on\nher, as if he was waiting for her cue. Skye noticed a panel in the center of\nthe sliding door, with ten holes, five on each side, as if they were inviting\nyou to slide your fingers inside.

Impatiently, Zane\nbrushed past me and slipped his ten fingers inside the holes, but nothing\nhappened. He tried to push his fingers further, but something felt off. “Mmrpphh mphhhh!” His\nnails weren’t long enough.

Skye’s eyes widened at his\nwords, drifting down to the long, pink talons. She sighed and knew what she\nneeded to do. Pushing Zane aside, Skye took a deep breath and pushed her own\nfingers inside, the nails slipping further between a soft cushion. The journalist\nheard a click and was alarmed when she couldn’t remove her hands from the 10\norifices. After pulling for 30 seconds, she fell backward when the wardrobe\ndoor released her and clicked, allowing Zane to slide the door open.

As Zane examined the\ninterior of the closet, Skye stared in horror at her nails. Not only did the\npink paint look even glossier, but somehow, a glittery pink rhinestone jewel\nhad attached itself to each of her cuticles.

“Mmmpph mrpphhh!” Zane called out, bringing Skye out of\nher terrified moment. She stood up and approached him just in time to witness\nher rival outstretch a hand and grab the two outfits displayed inside.

Instantly, the outfits\ndisappeared from view and attached themselves to the rivals. Skye was no longer\nnaked, although she might have preferred it. She was now wearing a sparkling\npink tube top, wide enough to barely cover her B-cup breasts but left her entire\ntorso and that heart-shaped piercing exposed. Her unshaven pussy was also\ncovered with a matching pink g-string, pressing into her hips and giving her an\nalmighty wedgy.

Zane arguably got it\neven worse. His naked body was covered up by a tight-fitted red PVC minidress,\nwith the low-cut top showing off a generous amount of cleavage and the skirt\nflaring out over his thighs. He looked ridiculous, he thought. “Mnnnooop!” He\nexclaimed.

A key clinked onto the\nfloor, and Sky immediately bent over and picked it up, giving the gagged Zane a\ngreat view of her ass. She examined the key for clues. There was an image of a\nchest on the head of the key, and the pair scanned around for anything resembling\nthe image.

“Hhrggh!” Zane called out as he examined the next room, a\nBarbie-style dining room and kitchen. Skye rushed to join him, the g-string\npushing against her asscheeks with each stride. She found Zane standing before\na pink chest identical to the image they had seen.

The front of the\nlocked chest had a keyhole, but it was beside a lip-shaped silhouette, and it\nwasn’t just any shape. The\nlips were big, plump, and full. Zane bit into his gag in frustration. He knew\nexactly what he needed to do.

The con artist\nnarrowed his eyes and glared at his nemesis. Skye put her hands up as if\noffering a truce. They needed to work together to get out of here. Zane\ntentatively pressed his gagged lips up against the silhouette. He immediately\nfelt a vacuum push his lips inside the hole. His plump suckers fit perfectly,\nand the keyhole immediately started to glow.

“Mrpphhh!” Zane cried urgently, and Skye rushed to\naction, slipping the key inside the glowing hole and turning it anti-clockwise.\nWith a click, the suction on Zane’s lips disappeared, and the trunk opened.

The brunette man\ngently brought a finger to his lips and shuddered at once. They felt sensitive,\nlike really sensitive. He brushed the plump lips again and felt a sensual\nshiver run down his spine. What had they done to him, he thought.

With only 80 minutes\nleft, Skye wasted no time and reached into the trunk, pulling out two pairs of\nstockings. Similar to the previous outfits, these stockings instantly\ndisappeared and reappeared on the duo’s legs. Along with her tube top and g-string, Skye now\nfound herself wearing a pair of thigh-high, pink, free-standing fishnet\nstockings. “Mpphhh!” She exclaimed. Why pink?

Zane didn’t get any reprieve,\nfinding himself adorning a pair of opaque thigh-high red stockings with\nmatching suspenders barely hidden under his dress. It was a comical satire of\nfemininity on the previously suave man.

A second key fell out\nas the pair examined their new additions in horror. They definitely weren’t naked now. Skye\nbent at the knees and picked up the key, biting into her gag in frustration. “Mmrpp\nmompp?” She questioned the busty man beside her.

Zane stared at the\nimage on the key head, showing the\nsilhouette of a large mirror with an arch at the top. He shrugged, and the pair\nwent about searching for the new container. Skye moved into the next room, a\nhallway with yellow walls and blue furniture. A white cloth was draped over an\nobject, the only dull color in the room. She grabbed the fabric with her\nbedazzled talons and pulled it away, revealing the tall, arched mirror they\nwere looking for.

“Mrphhh!” She called out, and Zane soon joined her. The\nblond woman stared at the image above the mirror, displaying the silhouette of\na woman with her hair in high pigtails. Below the picture was a one-lined clue:\nBlonde banners aloft shall part the silver veil.

Skye bit into the\ninconvenient gag again. Blond banners? They must mean her hair, but what did\nthey want her to do with it? A few moments later, the journalist felt a nudge,\nand her busty nemesis held two pink hairbands out for her. Wordlessly, he\ndemonstrated that they must be placed in her hair, as in the image.

Skye wildly shook her\nhead. It was hard enough to carry this girly hairstyle around; there was no way\nshe was putting it into pigtails. Zane sighed and approached the mirror,\nslipping the key inside its hole, but nothing happened. He pointed exaggeratedly,\nwishing he could communicate more coherently.

The journalist\ngroaned. He was right. If it was the only way, she needed to do it. It’s better than being\nstuck at 10 inches tall for the rest of her life. He handed her the bands, and\nthe woman tied her long blond locks into tall twin tails as though she were\nsome ridiculous, bubbly schoolgirl. She rolled her eyes, but as she stared back\nat her feminine reflection in the mirror, the keyhole began to glow. Zane\nimmediately turned the key, and the mirrored door opened to reveal two small\nitems.

Skye immediately tried\nto remove the hairbands but struggled to pull them free. It felt like the bands\nwere set in place and wouldn’t\nbudge, keeping her hair in the ridiculous style.

Zane didn’t wait, reaching down\nand grabbing the two silver items, which disappeared instantly.

“Mrpphhh!” Skye cried out alarmingly as her hand flew to\nher g-stringed asscheeks. Without warning, a wide silver metal butt plug with a\npink encrusted princess jewel occupied her asshole, filling up her orifice and\nstretching it wide.

“Nnghh!” Zane’s deeper voice groaned out in equal\nfrustration. He lifted his dress to find the cock he was once so proud of all\nshriveled up and contained by a small curved metal chastity cage. A silver\npadlock proudly displayed above it, keeping it locked in place. The con artist\nwas locked up and helpless.

As the pair were\ndiscovering their new hated fates, yet another key fell to the ground. The pair\nonly had 20 minutes left to escape the house. Zane reached down and picked it\nup, staring at the image on the head of the key; he had seen this before.

It was a cupboard in\nthe teardrop shape of a pair of breasts; Zane was always a boob man and noticed\nthe pink furniture earlier in the first room. He rushed back to the main living\nroom and stood before the large cupboard.

Beside the keyhole\nwere indents for a pair of large breasts and a message that read: Twin mounds\nfit the shadowed groove, yet a crack unveils the room to move. Zane knew\nprecisely what the challenge wanted him to do.

Skye seemed to\nunderstand, too, and urged her rival towards the cupboard. He needed to place\nhis new fake tits in the grooves. The con artist lowered his top in preparation\nbefore pausing and rereading the clue.

Zane rushed back into\nthe kitchen and returned with a pink sledgehammer, prompting Skye’s eyes to widen. Was\nhe damn crazy? She thought. He stepped up to the cupboard with purpose. “Mmuuooo!”\nSkye screamed in an attempt to stop him, but the busty man smashed the plastic\nboob-shaped cupboard in one fell swoop.

Suddenly, the world\nbegan spinning, faster and faster, until they were transported back into their\nliving room, back to their original sizes. The doll house they occupied still\nsat proudly and colorfully on the dinner table.

Skye examined herself;\nshe was still wearing the tube top and g-string, the stockings, the butt plug,\nthe jewel-encrusted nails, and the damn humiliating pigtails. She attempted to\ntug the outfit loose, but none of it was loose. Darius’s magic was keeping\neverything in place.

Zane had the exact\nsame revelation. His low-cut, cleavage-spilling dress, red stockings, sensitive\nlips, and chastity cage were all kept in place. The pair’s choker hummed, and\ntheir harness ball gags disappeared, but everything else remained.

“What the-?” Skye complained, “I can’t wear this shit!”

“At least you’re a woman,” Zane retorted. “No one would\nlook twice at you looking like a Barbie doll. Look at me!”

She did stare at him,\nand under any other circumstances, she would have enjoyed what she saw, but\nthis game had transformed both of them into unrecognizable caricatures of\nthemselves, and they were only halfway through. They both silently nodded in\nresignation.

❖

Skye stood in the safehouse lounge, her\nblond pigtails swaying as she clawed at her sparkling pink tube top, the fabric\nglinting under the dull bulb. “Fuck! How can a damn\noutfit be stuck to me?!” She exclaimed in frustration, her voice hoarse from\nthe dollhouse ordeal and her gagged experience. With each uncomfortable step,\nshe felt the intrusive plug shifting inside of her. “I look like some Barbie\ndoll stripper!”

“You got that right,” Zane quipped, although it wasn’t\nmade in the same jest as his earlier insults. His red PVC minidress stretched\ntightly over the obviously enhanced G-cup breasts, and the flared skirt hid his\nhumiliatingly locked-away cock. He was in no position to gloat. He tugged at\nthe padlock, keeping the equipment together. “That bastard needs to unlock this\ncrap!” he bellowed out, his fat, glossy lips trembling, prompting a slight\nlisp.

Across the veil of\nreality, Darius Vayne lounged in his manor’s opulent study, holding a crystal goblet of dark wine\nas he watched the scene unfold on a shimmering hologram; this may have been his\nbest game yet.

The room’s high ceilings\nloomed over a large, long oak table, its surface cluttered with gold coins and\nscribbled tablets, surrounded by six shadowed men cloaked in black hoods. Their\nfaces were obscured, but their chuckles and low growls filled the air as Darius\nleaned back on his throne. He purred with delight. “Look at my puppets squirm,\ngentleman,” he said, swirling the wine. “Four of the eight challenges have been\ncompleted, and they’re already perfect little dolls, aren’t they?”

A voice from the\nshadows rasped, “The\nblond’s cracking; I’ll wager fifty on her breaking first.” Another, deeper\nvoice countered, “No, the busty one’s weaker. I’ll take your bet!” Coins\nclinked as bets shifted, and a third figure, his hood dipping low, muttered, “Two\nhundred says that they both crack by challenge six.” Darius’s lips curled into\na wicked grin as the men around him debated the fates of the two coerced\ncontestants.

The warlock pressed\nhis hands together and stared through his crystal ball at the image of the pair\nreacting to their new, humiliating fates. There was a lot more where that came\nfrom, Darius thought. Just wait and see.

\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n

End of Chapter One

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