Not exactly.

The sounds of the cheering crowd gently wakes you from your slumber. You are lying on the floor in the circle. Your sexy platform heels your only attire. The huge rippled phallus is back and the podium is no where to be seen. “Great job everyone. Once more the black button has ruined the chances for several contestants. Contestant number 37 you were the winner, and all that cash has been added to your bank. Now for the final round. The knot.”

The crowd starts chanting, “Knot. Knot. Knot. Knot.”

You have three minutes to ready yourselves. Drinks, cookies, and lube will be provided.” An annoying countdown style music begins playing and a silver tray floats down with an energy drink, a soda, a beer, a bunch of cookies, and two different lubes, one is thick like butter, the other much runnier, like oil.

You look it over then look down. “Wait? Why am I still a girl?” You yell. “Announcer guy?”

Someone, a new voice, masculine in tone, but possibly not, “You hit the black button. They said it changes things.”

“Well ain’t that a mother fucker.” You say quietly and chomp down a few cookies, noting that your tongue seems to have been pierced at some point as well. Your nipples are still really girly, but other than that, and maybe a bit of an hourglass shape, you still feel like a guy, but that is hard to say with no mirror and wearing such crazy high heels.

Finally the blinking light timer indicates 30 seconds. Which lube to use? Thick, runny, both? Or don’t even try the knot. It can’t be bigger than the two tentacles that pounded your ass. “Fuuuck.” You weigh your options. The cock is just standing there waiting to tear you up.