Guess B) Training using dog techniques

"B," you say, trying to match the confidence from your last answer. "Training submissives using dog training techniques."

The words barely leave your plumped lips before Derek's face splits into a grin so wide it's practically obscene. He doesn't even need to check his card this time.

"Oh, Lexi." He draws out your name like he's savoring expensive wine. "That's incorrect. The answer is A—puppy play primarily involves role-playing as canines with associated gear and behaviors. But I appreciate your creativity. Training techniques, though? That's adorable."

The audience erupts in a mixture of sympathetic groans and excited applause. Several men in the front row lean forward in their seats.

"Crystal!" Derek barks the command like he's conducting an orchestra. "Our contestant needs another lesson in humility. And let's make this one count—she's getting a bit too clever for her own good."

"Yes, Mr. Sinclair!" Crystal practically squeals, her platform heels clicking against the floor as she rushes to the control panel. This time her enthusiasm seems less ****, more genuine. "Ooh, this is gonna be so good!"

The transformation booth slides into place with ominous efficiency. The mist comes faster this time, thicker, and the tingling sensation that follows is more invasive—more insistent. You feel your breasts swelling again, pushing further against your athletic top until the fabric strains audibly. The cup size you gained before doubles, the weight suddenly foreign and uncomfortable on your frame.

But that's just the beginning.

Your waist cinches inward as if invisible hands are pulling a corset tight around your middle, creating an exaggerated hourglass that makes breathing slightly harder. Your lips plump even further, achieving a pornographic pout that feels ridiculous. Then comes the hair—you feel your carefully styled top knot loosening, the brunette strands growing longer, cascading down past your shoulders in waves you definitely didn't have before.

"There we go," Derek narrates, circling you like a vulture. "Much better. And since we're exploring puppy play, let's add some appropriate restraints, shall we?"

A leather collar materializes around your neck—thick, studded, with a heavy D-ring that clinks against the metal. Chain leashes extend from the collar to anchor points on either side of the podium. Your existing shackles tighten, and a third set locks around your thighs, spreading them slightly and forcing you into a more **** stance.

"Beautiful," Derek purrs. "The scoreboard still reads ten thousand dollars, I'm afraid. Three restraints now, and we're just getting warmed up. Question four, for twenty thousand dollars: In BDSM terminology, what is 'subspace'?"

Crystal giggles from her position at the control panel, bouncing excitedly.