Welcome Back!

The studio music blared and Pixie opened her eyes in horror, staring out at the sea of silhouetted faces of the audience behind the cameras. There were cheers, laughter, and the applause only seemed to get louder as the realisation dawned on her face.

The rushing pleasure that had been rolling through her body jerked to a shuddering, miserable halt. She’d just masturbated, orgasmed in front of all of them, she was kneeling in just a towel, fingers thrust lewdly between her legs!

Oh my god.

Her body’s natural instinct when shocked like this was to drop, to curl into a protective ball as all the strength left her stomach, and desperately try and disappear. Unfortunately for Pixie, her compulsion to kneel flipped this and before she could understand what was happening her jolting attempt to hide instead saw her suddenly and freakishly snap into her submissive pose. Back arched, tits out, thighs together, hands behind her back, head dropped.

The **** she thrust out her chest with caused the knot at the front of her towel to give way and the fluffy white garment fell open, baring her body to the hundreds of eyes. Her little breasts shuddered with her every breath, her stomach flexing as she wiggled her hips in naked embarrassment and floundered, frantically grabbing for the towel and trying to maintain even one last shred of her dignity.

“Welcome back to Bimbo or Billionaire!” Jack called over the trailing sounds of the audience’s applause, slapping a bright pink cue card as he stepped in place. Pixie scrambled to cover herself with her towel, abandoning any hope of re-tying the knot in time; instead she just dragged it to her front, her shame burning across every inch of her exposed wet skin.

“If you’re just joining us, today’s lucky contestant is Pixie!” Jack continued with his usual slick brightness, “Now Pixie is playing a very special game thanks to the choices of her marvellous jurors!”

He waved a hand at the screen as the five shadowy figures appeared overhead – Pixie felt their looming presence weighing on her as the audience let out a smattering of applause and appreciative ‘oohs’. Chrissi pressed herself to the side of the giant display, like she was a decoration cosying up to the figures in vapid adoration.

As long as she didn’t look in his eyes Pixie thought she would be ok but, it only took a momentary flash, a natural glance back in Jack’s direction for Pixie to feel her mouth start to strain familiarly... Please no… not again…

“So far Pixie has found the compulsions and grab bag punishments… Her first cash case… and her first reward case when she opened ‘Harmony’!”

There were more 'oohs' from the audience, more applause and Jack played along with them.

“Please may I service you with my mouth?!” Pixie squealed, her voice girlish and helpless, feeling the words wrenched from her again. Jack laughed, but, to Pixie’s horror and shame, he didn’t answer her,

“So, Pixie, sixteen cases to go - two punishments and two rewards already but there’s still a lot of unopened boxes out there… anything you want to say at this stage?”

Pixie clutched the towel to herself, moaning helplessly. I hate you…

“Please, can I be of service with my mouth?” Pixie felt her tongue lull again in submissive waiting, the same humiliating begging pose she’d seen on the front of that book. The audience laughed jovially again, as though her helpless degradation was just light-hearted innocent fun even as the urgent itch continued to tug at her – she needed to offer her mouth to him, she had to – the compulsion was driving her to desperation.

Pixie couldn’t help it, she made eye contact with Jack as he grinned wickedly back at her. The moment their gaze met she tensed, feeling his cock press menacingly against her pussy, its tip just rested against her entrance, rubbing in heated wet circles, threatening to slip powerfully inside her any moment…

“Now Pixianna… you know how you get with your condition – Would you like to call a vote to stop the game? You’d only need 80% of the audience to agree to let you go…”

“Please may I service you with my mouth?” Pixie parroted helplessly, her voice cracking in shame and frustration. She’d almost forgotten about the vote rule, even if she could speak she still bit back her own frantic want to use it… she only had one chance and it was too soon, the chances of her getting to convince 80% of the audience to vote to let her go felt impossible.

“Just say the word…?” Jack mocked.

“Please, I want to service you with my mouth!”

“After the show” Jack said dismissively, and Pixie gulped, gasping as her mouth snapped shut, regaining control of herself, “Because now it’s time to get on with the game!” Jack decreed, turning back to the line of garish pink boxes sitting unopened on the stage. The moment he turned away and their eye-contact broke Pixie felt his cock disappear and she hung her head, resolving to stare at a point on the studio floor as intently as possible.

“So Pixie – which box will it be this time?”

“I-I-I don’t know… ” Pixie moaned and shook her head; her wet hair dripped and clung to her as she quivered in place, what choice did she have… “Um… 11?”

“Chrissi! Let’s see what’s inside box number 11!”

She caught sight of Jack’s shoes swivel in place and then the sight of Chrissi’s ridiculous heels as she started strutting obediently down the line – a moment later she heard the blonde’s uncertain bubble-gum voice drip with a **** need for praise, “Double one?”

“That’s right Chrissi… double one…” Jack said with patronising encouragement, and though Pixie didn’t see, she presumed he made some gesture to the audience as they immediately started laughing riotously again.

The kneeling girl held her breath, stifling the anxiety washing through her as she waited for the next category to be revealed…

Chrissi opened the box and the audience cheered. The reaction caught Pixie enough that she couldn’t help but glance fearfully up, her eyes focussing on the little pink symbol of a silhouetted woman’s head in profile, a ponytail flowing behind her… Which one is that?

“Hair and Face!” Jack announced to more applause, immediately answering Pixie’s unspoken question as her heart sank. “... for this category we’re looking for any physical transformation that affects Pixie from the neck up or affects her hair anywhere…”

Wait…

“… changes to her style, features and senses above the neck are permissible…”

Pixie panicked, her cheeks growing redder and redder… My face?!

“Jurors – please show me changes for Hair and Face!”

Wait wait wait wait wait!