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Late to the show? Previous rounds are waiting under the pink lights: * Part 1 * Part 2 * Part 3 The cameras stayed on Taffy as the laughter rolled through the arena. Taffy giggled so hard she snorted, then clapped both hands over her mouth, blushing furiously. The pink spread down her neck in a bright, eager tide. Candy looked down at her with a glittering smile. “Well, we can’t have you hugging me all night, can we? It’s time to make your lovely little dream a reality.” Two more assistants bounced onto the stage, both absurdly voluptuous, their large breasts moving as if gravity had given up and filed a complaint. Their shafts swayed side to side with every heavy step, barely restrained by glittering straps and scraps of silver-pink fabric that no honest person could call a thong. Taffy’s eyes went wide behind her thick frames as she took in a deep, excited gasp. “Lulu! Didi! You brought out Lulu and Didi!” The pink-haired assistant squealed so loudly her perfect ringlets bounced, her heels clacking in a delighted little step-dance. “Oh my gosh, Didi, she knows us!” Didi, all deep teal skin and silver pupils like molten metal, gasped as if this were the most meaningful thing that had ever happened. “That means we’re, like, famous-famous.” “You are more than just famous!” Taffy said with breathless glee, practically hopping in place. “You’re both practically celebrities in my fan club. Lulu, you were Season Eight’s first Permanent Prize Status! And Didi, you lost the Velvet Maze in under two minutes, but everyone loved you so much they made you a stage assistant!” Lulu pressed both hands to her cheeks. “Awww, she remembers when I got super duper lucky and got the Permanent Prize.” Didi patted Taffy’s head with dreamy affection. “And now we get all the best new toys and benefits.” Taffy blinked up at her. For the first time since Candy had turned toward her, a tiny flicker of nerves slipped through the shine in her eyes. Her gaze darted between the two bimbos, her teeth catching her lower lip as if one small, sensible part of her brain had finally knocked on the door. “Are you happy after what happened to you?” Lulu and Didi looked at each other. Then Lulu giggled and bent closer to Taffy’s height. “Happy doesn’t even begin to cover it, silly. Happy is, like, when you find a coupon. This is way better.” She turned with a bubbly little flourish and twerked for the audience, her thick ass bouncing beneath the stage lights. The crowd hooted and cheered, and Lulu shuddered at the sound, a breathy moan slipping from her glossy lips. “And sometimes,” she added dreamily, “your body claps back.” Didi followed, drawing closer to Taffy with bright-eyed, airheaded sincerity. “Plus, we get so much pleasure. Like, all the time. Even when we’re just standing there.” “Especially when we’re standing there,” Lulu added, swaying dreamily. “Standing is soooo underrated.” Didi sighed happily. “Sitting, kneeling, bending over cue marks... also really, really good.” Taffy’s blush deepened as Didi bit her lip, clearly lost in a very happy memory. Taffy swallowed, green eyes huge behind her thick glasses. “Even when you lose?” Both assistants gasped in perfect, synchronized surprise. “Especially when you lose!” Didi chimed. “Losing is when the show knows what you need better than you do.” Lulu nodded with absolute seriousness. “Winning is cute and all, but losing means you get to stop worrying so much.” “You can still try to win,” Didi said, taking Taffy’s hand and leading her toward the chamber. “Trying is fun, and even kinda adorable,” Lulu agreed, looping around Taffy’s other side. “But the real prize is getting to feel everything.” The words settled into Taffy’s mind like a warm, glittering promise. Her mouth fell open in a tiny, reverent smile, as if something inside her had clicked neatly into place. “Okay,” she chirped. She practically skipped into the chamber. The door slid shut with a satisfying hiss. Candy leaned toward her microphone, chrome-pink lips glistening. “Oh my, I’m getting excited. Darlings, I think this might be a record.” The audience roared. “The only contestant who walked in already knowing the house rules, the loopholes, and every filthy little fan theory in her forums!” The timer began its slow sixty-second countdown as the chamber fog thickened into that familiar, playful pink. Unlike the others, Taffy did not gasp or stumble. She pressed both hands to the glass, eyes shining behind her thick lenses, and whispered with breathless wonder, “It’s really happening.” For all the clips, recaps, forum posts, and late-night fan theories, none of them had prepared her for the heat of being the girl behind the glass. She rocked on her feet as the first tingles rose through her body. Instead of fighting them, Taffy melted into the mist’s embrace, breathing in the mutagenic fragrance with a soft, eager moan. Her chest began to swell, her soft belly rounding sweetly beneath the haze as her hips widened and her waist tucked in just enough to make every plush inch look intentional. The chamber did not slim her down so much as polish what was already there, reshaping her short frame into something lush, inviting, and unmistakably built for the spotlight. Her face changed with the rest of her, losing its awkward angles for something rounder, glossier, and sweeter, already smiling even when her mouth wasn’t moving. Taffy pressed herself harder against the glass, letting the crowd gawk as her growing breasts flattened softly against the clear surface. A squeaking sound, like a squeegee dragged across a starship window, echoed through the microphones. Candy cackled. “That’s not a moan, folks. That’s a confirmation!” Inside the chamber, Taffy’s body bloomed with enthusiastic, unapologetic joy. Her skin flushed the color of ripe strawberries. Her pigtails bounced as she squirmed against the glass, not in embarrassment or discomfort, but with an obvious, greedy ache. Her soft frame filled out into lush, plush curves meant to be touched, meant to be seen, meant to belong exactly where she had always imagined herself standing. As the pink gas worked its magic on the slick heat of her pussy, the chamber’s signature addition began to rise from her, pulsing into eager, vibrant life. It thickened, throbbed, and lifted with slick enthusiasm while Taffy’s eyes went huge behind her glasses. Rather than recoil, she stared down at it in helpless wonder, lips parting around a trembling little laugh as the last impossible piece of her dream took shape between her thighs. Instead of flinching or faltering, she reached down with one tentative, trembling hand. Her fingers brushed the slick heat of her new cock, and the contact sent a bright little shock through her whole body. Taffy’s knees dipped, not from fear, but from the sudden realization that every nerve answered her touch like it had been waiting for her. “Oh fuck yes,” Taffy breathed directly toward the nearest camera, pupils dilated with starstruck wonder. “Having a dick feels better than I ever imagined. Ahh, yes, the fan sims have nothing on the real thing.” Her small fingers wrapped around her new anatomy. The shaft pulsed eagerly in her grip, hot and heavy and impossibly sensitive, twitching as if it recognized her hand. Another wave of pleasure rushed through her, bright enough to make her whole body feel plugged into the show itself, rolling from the base of her cock through her plush belly and up into her softening chest. Her growing breasts pressed harder against the glass as she arched without meaning to, leaving another squeaking smear across the chamber wall. A jolt of pure pleasure shot up her spine, sharp enough to knock the breath out of her. “Oh,” she breathed, her grip tightening by instinct. “That’s the spot.” The words came out reverent, almost amazed. Taffy stroked again, slower this time, testing the feel of herself with wide-eyed fascination. Every little motion gave her something new: the slick drag of her fingers, the throb in her palm, the answering clench between her thighs, the way her whole short, plush body seemed to light up from the inside. She giggled once, breathless and disbelieving, before the next pulse of pleasure turned the sound into a moan. Her legs began to tremble, but this was not a stumble. This was rhythm. Her knees softened, her hips bucked, and her free hand slapped hard against the chamber window before streaking downward, leaving a glossy smear in its wake. Her stroking fingers spread slick pre across her new shaft as the tip twitched and darkened with arousal. Within seconds, she was working herself into a frenzy right there on live intergalactic television. Candy lifted both hands like a conductor bringing in the final note. “And five… four… three… two… one… chime!” The bell rang just as Taffy let out a high-pitched, delighted squeal of release. The chamber window splattered white. For one stunned second, the whole studio seemed to freeze. Then the audience went feral. Candy looked at the glass. Then at the camera. Then back at the glass. “Well,” Candy said, fighting and failing not to laugh, “somebody call the splash crew. Chamber Six just got sticky.” The door slid open. Taffy Vex stumbled out, still gasping for breath, a dreamy, fucked-out smile plastered across her softened face. Her pigtails were mussed. Her glasses sat crooked on her nose. A glistening strand trickled down her inner thigh. Her plush curves glowed pink and warm beneath the lights, and her freshly added equipment hung half-hard, slick and satisfied. Her wide, adoring eyes fixed on Candy. “I did the thing,” Taffy breathed. Candy wiped a tear of laughter from one eye. “You really, really did, you adorable little short stack.” She straightened, smoothed her chrome-pink catsuit, and pointed at the scoreboard. “And because I am feeling generous, we don’t have a penalty for… premature celebration.” The crowd shrieked with glee. CONTESTANT #6: TAFFY BIMBO POINTS: 0 Taffy was still trying to remember how knees worked as Didi and Lulu guided her back toward the group. Their eyes never quite left her new form. They whispered what sounded like congratulations as they walked, hands drifting over her plush hips with dreamy approval, while Taffy kept glancing down at herself like she expected the spell to vanish if she stopped looking. “What a collection!” Candy announced, spreading her arms wide to encompass the six transformed contestants standing beneath the hot, hungry lights. “Look at you all! Shiny! New! And so, so sensitive.” She began to pace before them, a predator admiring her captured, glittering prey. Riva stood rigid at one end of the lineup, military composure locked around her new anatomy like armor. Beside her, Cam seethed in elegant silence, every furious breath making the little bell at her throat give a delicate, humiliating chime. Luma smiled for the cameras as if this were all still content, glossy lips curved in a practiced, knowing expression while her molten eyes cataloged every reaction for later use. Juno, by contrast, remained unnervingly still, her black eyes tracking Candy’s movements with cold precision. Nera bristled beneath the lights, tail lashing behind her, though the extra sensitivity beneath her glossy fur made every camera feel like a caress. At the end of the line, Taffy touched herself everywhere with wide-eyed disbelief, as if she still needed proof that this was not a dream. Candy spun back toward the audience, her chrome-pink hair catching the lights in a perfect glittering wave. “And that, my darling viewers, is what we call a starting lineup.” The screens behind her flashed, and the scoreboard expanded until it filled the entire back wall. CURRENT BIMBO POINTS: CONTESTANT #1: LUMA VALE — 0 POINTS CONTESTANT #2: RIVA — 0 POINTS CONTESTANT #3: CAM — 2 POINTS CONTESTANT #4: JUNO GRAVES — 1 POINT CONTESTANT #5: NERA QUILL — 2 POINTS CONTESTANT #6: TAFFY VEX — 0 POINTS Candy tapped her microphone with one crimson nail. “Luma, Riva, and our sweet little Taffy are sitting pretty at zero. Fresh bodies, fresh brains, no penalties yet.” Taffy waved both hands at the crowd, still beaming. “Juno Graves has one tiny little point for discovering that balance is harder when the math changes.” Juno’s expression did not move. “And tied for our early trouble spot, we have Cam and Nera at two Bimbo Points each!” Cam’s bell gave a furious little jingle as her jaw tightened, while Nera’s ears flattened against her head. Candy’s grin widened. “Not dangerous yet, darlings. Not even close. Two points is just a warning light. A little scoreboard kiss. A tiny reminder that the number can always climb higher.” The crowd roared. “But remember…” Candy turned slowly, letting her gaze drag across every contestant in the line. “Fifty points means Permanent Prize Status. No reversal. No refunds. No boring old life waiting outside the studio doors.” The scoreboard flashed red for one dramatic heartbeat. 50 POINTS = OURS FOREVER Candy laughed as the audience chanted the words back at her. Then she turned to the nearest camera, smile bright enough to sell a bad decision. “This has been FutaFun: Conversion Night! Six contestants entered. Six contestants changed. And next time, we find out who can still use those pretty little brains.” The lights strobed faster. The music swelled. Candy threw both arms high. “Now say it with me, my sweet darlings!” Every audience member, every FutaFun assistant, every staff member, and one very enthusiastic Taffy screamed in unison. “KEEP IT LOW OR GET THE GLOW!”
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