Wheel of Woman

by T.G. Cooper and M.N. Murdoch

"And 3....2....1......". The lights flared, lanky 1950s elevator jazz blasted from the speakers and Graham Nightly strode out from behind the deep blue curtains that swept across the stage. The audience roared, and Graham did his signature karate pose as they cheered and the deep voice announcer called out, "That's Graham and you're watching--Wheel of Woman!!"

As soon as the cheering died out, Graham said, "Let's meet out contestants!"

A curtain pulled away to reveal two men standing on raised platforms, both burly with fashionable stubble on their square jaws. They had dour expressions on their faces. "I'd tell one of you to show me your pretty smile, but I don't know who's going to be stuck as a girl yet," Graham said, winking at the camera.

"Our first contestant," deep voice guy called out in the fake cheerful voice he always used, "is a construction worker who likes to spend his spare time working on his Harley! Meet Hunter Wolf!" Hunter flexed his bicep and showed it to the camera. "And this," the announcer continued, "is what he will look like if he loses and becomes our other contestant's dream girl:" An image of a busty blonde waitress dressed like a Saint Pauly girl appeared to cat calls and whoops from the audience.

Graham raised his eyebrows and bugged his eyes about. "Why am I suddenly thinking I'd like a tall glass of milk?" Graham said, and the audience laughed. "You'll be a real hit with the boys down at the construction site once yourself a pair of those sweet melons," Graham said.

"That ain't gonna happen," Hunter growled, though he suddenly felt oddly self-conscious about his chest, and without even thinking he crossed his arms.

"Our second contestant is Jack Steel. He's a bodyguard who spends his free time competing in mixed martial arts. Tough guy! And this is what he will look like as his competitor's dream girl!" The image of a sultry, raven-haired beauty dressed as a French maid appeared on the screen. "O, la la," Graham said. "Mademoiselle! You'll look so sexy with a feather duster!"

Jack felt his stomach flutter at the sight of the French Maid. The thought of becoming HER made him very nervous, and he saw himself in that little dress on his hands and knees, his butt wiggling in the air as he scrubbed Hunter's floor. Jack shook his head to push the image away, and said, "I can't wait to turn you into my bitch." He pointed at Hunter.

"Oh, yeah?" Hunter said. "You're going look real pretty on your back with your...."

"Girls, girls," Graham said, "no catfights. Let's settle this like ladies."

The audience laughed as the embarrassed men backed off. "Ladies and gentleman, here on Wheel of Woman, each week we bring in two men who absolutely despise each other. Then, they compete to try and feminize their enemy and win 10,000 dollars!"

The audience roared.

"And why, boys, do you hate each other?"

"He stole my girl," Jack said.

"She left of her own free will," Hunter shot back. "She needed more of a man."

"Please," Jack said. "I could beat your butt from one side of this room the next."

"I'd like to see you try!"

"We'll be taking care of this testosterone problem," Graham said. "And one of you is about to be a lot less of a man!" Graham said. "Let's get into this catfight, shall we?"

A curtain pulled back to reveal a series of obstacles. A huge sign above the scene read, "Urban Jungle." The audience oohed. "Come down here to the starting line," Graham said. "Our first challenge will be to run this obstacle course. Whoever can do it in the quickest time wins. The loser gets...." He held his hand to ear, and the audience shouted, "FEMINIZED!"

Both men looked uncomfortable at the word, kind of doing a full body wince. "You guys ready?" Graham asked.

Jack and Hunter looked over the obstacle course. It didn't look like much-- stairs, a patch of cobblestone, a hedge-- easy stuff like that. The only thing that looked challenging was a small jump over what looked like a tub full of mud.

"Hell, yes!" Hunter growled.

"Piece of Cake," Jack said.

"Good, then..."

"Graham! Graham!" A busty young woman in a slinky black dress called out as she took the stage.

"It's Francine LeFemme!" Graham said, pretending to be surprised. The audience cheered. "What is it darling?"

The two exchanged air kisses.

"You forgot the best part of the challenge!" Francine said.

"Oh, no," Jack said getting a bad feeling.

"And what is that?" Graham said.

Francine held up her bag, which read "Jimmy Choo" on the outside. The audience tittered. She reached in and lifted out a glittering strappy shoe with a stiletto heel. "They have to manage the course wearing heels!"

"Oh, come on!" Hunter said. "That's nuts."

"I didn't expect this," Jack said, nodding in agreement.

"Have you never seen the show?" Graham asked, tittering. "We love making men do simply everything in heels here."

"Girls, let's get you into these gorgeous Jimmy Choo stiletto heels!" Francine said, and a couple stools floated out onto the stage, a couple of pretty models following along behind.

The guys reluctantly went over to the stools and sat, the girls helping them take their shoes off, then strapping them in and buckling the stilettos tight across their feet, before helping each of the wobbling men to stand and teeter back to the starting line. The men's faces were contorted in discomfort and their ankles were shifting and swaying as they struggled to walk perched up on the tiny little heels.

'Okay, now get ready... get set... strut!" Graham called as a siren went off.

The audience cheered as the competition started, each of the men at an opposite end of the obstacle course. Hunter started up the stairs, instinctively putting his arms out to the sides for balance, a very feminine pose as he daintily tried to climb the stairs. "Isn't he adorable?" Graham said as the audience tittered. Jack started on the patch of cobblestone. He also had his arms out to the side and was taking tentative steps. As he walked onto the cobblestone, his stiletto heel found uneven purchase, and he wobbled and fell. Jack struggled to get back on his feet, and a study young man rushed from off stage and offered his arm. "Miss," he said. "Allow me to help."

Jack rolled his eyes but took the offered arm and let the man help him to his feet. The audience laughed and Graham said, "He seems quite the lady already!"

Jack now tried to look where he was going, carefully trying to make sure he stayed on the middle of flat cobblestones. "How am I supposed to walk on this stuff?" He shouted in exasperation.

The women in the audience all laughed.

Hunter had now gotten down the stairs. He sighed with relief and minced over to the hedge, at first thinking it would be easy to step over it, but when he lifted one foot, his ankle on the planted foot gave way and he fell over. Once more, a young man rushed out to assist him getting to his feet. "Hold my hand," the young man said. 'I'll help you over the hedge!"

"Get away from me!" Hunter said, pushing the man, but on his stilettos the effort caused Hunter to fall backwards, only to be caught by the other man.

"Let me assist," the young man said.

"I can do it myself!" Hunter shouted, once more bringing laughter from the audience.

Jack had reached the jump over the mud pit. It was really just a short hop, but Jack had never walked in heels, let alone jumped. Instead of just trying, he stood next to the mud pit and did a practice jump. "Clever Girl!" Francine called out. Jack's jump was too short, and he also completely lost balance and crashed to the ground when he landed. He didn't even argue when the boy came out to help him to his feet.

Hunter had now crossed the hedge mostly by kind of falling over it, and he was clicking toward the mud pit himself. Jack moved into position to jump from the right just as Hunter moved into position from the left. They stood, facing each other. "Get out of the way!" Hunter shouted. "You get out of the way!" Jack shouted back.

"Remember," Graham said, "if you fall into the mud, you lose automatically!"

"Girls cannot get muddy in public," Francine agreed. "Very unladylike."

"Fine," Jack said, mincing backwards and away from the pit. "You go." But he was being tricky, as he didn't believe Hunter could possibly make the jump the way he was wobbling in his heels.

"That's what I thought," Hunter said. "You know who's the man." He squatted as much as he could in his heels and did a cute and hapless hop that sent him right down into the mud. Womp womp! Music played as the audience cheered.

"Good news, girl," Francine said. "That mud is from the Nile river, and it is great for your skin!"

Hunter just shook his head in shame while a studly boy helped him to his feet.

"Still think it was smart to be first?" Jack taunted.

Hunter just glared at him.

The boys headed back to their original spots as Graham brought out the Wheel of Woman. "Let's give it a spin and see how Hunter will be feminized, shall we? Jack?"

Jack came forward, smiling. "Here's hoping for that time of the month!"

"I'd still be more of a man than you!" Hunter bellowed.

Jack gave the wheel a spin, the arrow thump thumping against the pins.... As it slowed, it seemed like it would land on That Time of The Month, but instead it stopped on "Mighty Melons."

"Does that mean...?" Hunter started to ask, but then he felt a tingling in his chest, and the buttons popped off his shirt as a pair of big, creamy breasts blossomed on his chest and bounced into place, deep, shadowy cleavage swelling out the top of his now too small button down. Hunter instinctively threw his hands over his abundant breasts, his mouth dropping open in shock.

"Nice jugs!" Jack taunted. "Just like I wanted you to have, babe!"

"You're going to need a bra," Francine said. "One busty girl to another."

Hunter shook his head. 'No. I don't need that."

"Get yourself a nice bra," Jack said. "You're going to be wearing one the rest of your life."

"I'll knock you..."

"Girls. Time for the next game. This one is what we like to call Cook for Your Man!"

Another curtain pulled back to reveal what looked like a miniature grocery store with two cooking stations. "You will have 10 minutes to shop, then 20 to prepare and plate a late-night snack that your big, strong boyfriend would love," Graham said. "Take your places."

"Can we get out of these heels?" Jack said. "My calves are killing me."

The women in the audience laughed. "Can they get out of their heels?" Graham asked Francine.

She shook her head. "They look too adorable."

Both men rolled their eyes and groaned. Hunter kept wiggling his shoulders, weirded out by the weight of his new breasts, as well as the way they kept bobbling and jiggling each time he moved. "Get ready," Graham said, "get set..."

"Oh, Graham," Francine said. "You forgot something."

"Oh, I did, didn't I?" Graham said.

Francine held up a leather purse with glittering gold clasp. "Our lovely contestants can only use what they can fit in these fashionable purses!"

Jack shook his head as Francine came over and handed him his purse. "You get to keep these as prizes whether you win or lose," Francine said.

"Lucky me," Jack said, hooking the strap over his shoulder.

Hunter accepted his with duly masculine derision as well.

"Let's get right down to it and go!" Graham shouted.

The two men minced off, purses on their shoulders, the camera following them as they hurried into the isles to do their shopping. Hunter right away was thrown off by the bouncing and swaying of his breasts, and he kept tugging at his shirt, trying to keep it over his breasts, which were constantly threatening to bounce free and give the world an uncensored look at his new assets. The audience tittered.

Camera crews followed each of them, as did Graham. "What are you thinking?" He asked Jack, who was pushing a package of ground beef into his purse. "Sloppy Joes," he said. "I like a good Sloppy Joe as a late-night snack."

"Have you ever made one?"

"No," Jack admitted. "My girlfriends have always done the cooking, so how hard could it be?" The audience booed. They seemed to be choosing Jack as the villain. He slipped his purse over his shoulder, stuck one hand out to the side and minced along in his heels. He was starting to get the hang of it, taking small steps, walking heel to toe. To the eyes of the audience, it looked like he was walking more and more like a woman, and they loved it.

"I'm gonna make a fried egg sandwich," Hunter told Graham, but then he tried to stick a loaf of bread into his purse, and it would not fit. 'I really want to make a fried egg sandwich," he said, even as he was starting to realize it wouldn't happen.

"You know what fried eggs remind me of?" Graham said, pointing at Hunter's cleavage.

"Oh, come on," Hunter said, pulling his shirt closed to the amusement of the audience. The comment made him feel super-embarrassed. It was bad enough having boobs, but having another man make lewd comments? He huffed, tossed his head and hurried off, heels clicking.

Jack was also now realizing he could never get buns into his purse. "Sloppy Joes is not going to happen," he admitted. The two men milled around the aisles, looking lost, frazzled. Time was running out as they grabbed an item, put it back, running back and forth. Finally, Jack just grabbed a half cartoon of eggs, some Canadian bacon, then grabbed a single serve container of pancake mix and a bottle of syrup, clicking and mincing back to the cooking station.

Hunter had started to bite his pinky as he starred, overwhelmed, at an aisle full of cat food. He stomped one foot, sending a massive tremor through his breasts. "I can't think of anything!"

"You're running out of time! You only have 30 seconds!" Graham shouted.

"I can't... I don't know what to do! Tell me what to do!" He said, turning to Graham.

The buzzer sounded. Womp Womp.

Hunter sighed and went over to join Jack at the cooking stations.

"Hunter, because you did not even manage to shop successfully, you will receive a penalty." Graham said.

"Airhead," Jack said.

Hunter just crossed his arms over his breasts and looked away.

For the penalty, a big, soft dice was brought out. "Roll it," Graham said, handing the dice to Jack, who held it toward Hunter. "Blow on this for luck, doll?"

"Screw you," Hunter said.

Jack tossed the dice across the stage. It came up "Manicure."

"Oh! You get to have your nails done!" Francine said.

"Lucky me," Hunter said.

"Well, while Hunter gets his nails done, let's go to commercial."

* * * *

After the commercial break, the camera opened on Graham standing off to the side. "Well, folks," he said. "There was an interesting development while you were away learning all about the amazing benefits of Calgon."

The camera cut to a shot of Hunter sitting with a beautician as she affixed long, crimson extensions to his fingers. Francine came in and sat down next to him. "Can I get you anything while you're getting your nails done?" She asked. "Latte? Cucumber water?"

Hunter glanced over his shoulder, then gestured for her to come closer. "Look, this is pretty embarrassing," he whispered. "But can I get.... um.... something to..." he glanced down at his cleavage..." keep these things from bouncing all over the place?"

"You mean a bra?" Francine asked.

"I mean... something?" Hunter said. He couldn't say the word, it was too embarrassing.

"I don't know what you mean," Francine said, playing dumb.

"We need you over here," a woman wearing a headset and carrying a clipboard said, coming into the scene. Francine started to leave, but Hunter grabbed her wrist. "A bra," he spat out. "I need a bra!"

The camera returned to Graham and the audience laughing. "Down goes another point of manly pride!" He said, and then turned and walked back over to where the contestants waited, back in real time. In addition to his very first bra, Hunter had also been given a new top-- it was a fitted woman's blouse, not too frilly or anything, but it hugged his new assets. It was clear to all the women in the audience that he'd been given some sort of push-up bra, and they tittered to see his breasts lifted and held out on display. The blouse didn't even have top buttons, so the collar was open, sharing a glimpse of his epic cleavage with the world. He had his hands behind his back, trying to hide his nails, not really even thinking about how putting his arms back like that had caused him to thrust his breasts forward.

"Now for a round of questions," Graham said. "This game is called I am. I will read some biographical details, and if you know the woman I am talking about, you will buzz in and say, for example, "I am Hillary Clinton. Understood?"

Both men nodded.

Graham pulled some cards out of his pocket and started to read the first one: "The first woman named to the Supreme Court, I am....?"

The guys just stared at him, shaking their heads.

Graham tossed the card over his shoulder. "Not very progressive, are we boys? Okay, next question." He pulled a new card from his pocket. "Born in Poland and later naturalized as a French citizen, I am known for my pioneering research into the nature of radiation. I am...."

Once more the guys stared, dumbfounded.

"I have a feeling you may take a much greater interest in women's history soon," he said, tossing the second card away as the audience laughed once more. The guys looked a little embarrassed. Graham pulled the third card out. "Hmmmmn. Known for my sexy cat daddy dance video...". Before he could even finish, both men pounded on their buzzers, with Hunter's lighting up. "I am Kate Upton!" He said, triumphantly.

"You certainly have the bust to be Kate Upton," Graham quipped.

Hunter immediately crossed his arms over his boobs, but he still had a look of triumph on his face. "I'm right, though?"

"Yes, you are. Come spin the wheel!"

"Finally!" Hunter said, pumping his fist. He clicked over to the wheel, looking back at Jack. "I hope you get that time of the month."

"Whatever," Jack said. 'I'm going make you my woman in the end."

"We'll see." Hunter gave the wheel a spin, and it rat tat tatted around and around... almost stopping on that time of the month, but settling instead of "Sexy Sized."

"What does that mean?" Jack said, but even as he asked the audience watched as he started to shrink, not just getting shorter, but his whole body becoming more slender and delicate. He dropped down from 6 feet tall to 5'6, his short-sleeved shirt now showing off tiny little pipe stem arms. His pants pooling around his feet. "Oh, no," he said, wincing at the sound of his high pitched, childish voice.

"You're a little pipsqueak!" Hunter said, laughing.

"Shut up!" Jack squealed, sounding like an angry little girl.

"Girls, girls," Francine said. "Play nice." She walked over and took Jack's hand. Jack was shocked to realize he now had to look up at the 5' 8" Francine. "Jackie is going to need a new outfit," she said, leading the shocked and humiliated little man from the stage.

"While Jackie's gone, let's play a little game, shall we?" Graham said, offering Hunter his arm. Without even thinking, Hunter took Graham's arm, feeling like it was the most natural thing in the world. "You're getting quite good at walking in heels, by the way," Graham said. "So graceful."

"Thanks," Hunter said, feeling a little blush of pride.

Graham winked at the camera as the audience tittered. The curtains parted as they walked, revealing putting green. "You a golfer?" Graham asked.

"Oh, yeah," Hunter said. He took a lot of pride in his gold game. It was part, in his mind, of being a real man. "I'm very good."

"Well, then, you will be excited to know that you are about to play Putting for Payback!" The audience cheered. "Sink a put, and you can transfer one of your changes to Jackie!"

"I like that!" Hunter said, glancing down at his breasts. "These things weigh a ton!" More laughter.

"So, to determine how far you will have to putt, you need to play a little pricing game. Over here on these pedestals, are some very exquisite Clairol products. Mascara, lipstick, eyeliner and blush. Lovely. How much do you think each one costs?"

"I have no idea," Hunter said. "That's all girl stuff. I never paid attention." Hunter was getting a bad feeling about where this was going.

"Indeed. Well, here are some prices tags. You will have thirty seconds to affix the right tag to the right beauty product. Ready?"

'I guess," Hunter said, staring down at the price tags, looking at the beauty products. He had no idea what any of them cost, but he decided he would just try and make the most logical guess on what was probably most to least expensive. But, when the buzzer sounded, once more he found his mind clouded with anxiety and indecision. He minced over to the lipstick, started to put one price tag on, then switched to another. He was finding it hard to operate with his long fingernails. They made it harder to grab and move things. He clicked his way over to the mascara, changed his mind about the lipstick minced back, heels clicking furiously.

"You must make a decision!" Graham called out. "Only 15 seconds left!"

"Fudge!" Hunter said, finally just blindly sticking price tags under each item, placing the last one under the eyeliner as the buzzer sounded. Hunter was breathing hard, his breasts heaving, and he put his hands to his cheeks, his glossy red nails bright against his skin. "Omigod, I just... I don't..."

"Calm down.... Take some deep breaths..." Graham said, putting a hand gently on his arm.

"Let see how she did," Graham said. Covers under the prices Hunter had placed dropped open, and the womp womp music played as the audience saw he had gotten not one price right. "Oh!" Hunter groaned, putting his head in his hands. "I am such an airhead!"

The audience laughed.

"Well, it isn't the end of the world," Graham said. "Because you still get to putt for payback. You just have to try and make the putt from 10 feet out is all. Do you think you can do that?"

Hunter felt his confidence returning. "Oh, yeah. All day long, especially on this artificial surface." The putting green was made of artificial grass, which was much more consistent and predictable than natural grass in the outdoors. Graham handed him a putter. "Take your best shot."

Hunter took the putter, looked down the length, tested the balance. When he took his position on the green, though, and had the putter in both hands, everything felt wrong. Perched on his stiletto heels, his base didn't seem solid, and with his arms together to grip the putter, his breasts were pressing against the insides of his arms, and the extra weight made him feel like his center of gravity was off. Well, he had to make this happen, so he pulled back and started to bring the putter forward... but just as he was about to make contact with the ball, his back ankle got a little wobbly, and he almost lost balance...the putter just grazed the golf ball, and it rolled four inches forward and stopped. The audience roared.

"I thought you said you could golf?" Graham said.

"I... my heels? I should get another chance."

"Sorry, but no payback, and in fact, you have suffered a loss of face."

"A loss of...?" Hunter was about to ask what that meant, but he felt his face tingling, changing, reshaping. He put his hands to his soft cheeks. "Oh, no," he said. "What do I even look like now?"

"A model," Graham said. "Just a lovely woman. Come on. Time for the next game!"

Though Hunter was in agony wondering how his face had changed, the audience could see he now had an idealized feminine face with big eyes, plump lips, a tiny little upturned nose. More, he had full makeup, his lips glossy and red, eyes popping beneath thick, curly lashes wet with mascara. He was gorgeous.

Jack was waiting for them to come back, shifting uncomfortable, feeling ridiculous in his new clothes. They'd dressed him in denim overalls over a sunflower yellow stripped, sleeves shirt with yellow pumps that matched the stripes on his shirt. It looked like the outfit a teen girl might wear, and Jack was mortified to have his slender little arms exposed for everyone to see, as well as the way the tight legs of the overalls hugged his long, coltish legs. The sexy sized effect had also given him a young, androgynous face that shaded toward fresh-faced femininity. "He's so cute! Adorable!" The audience tittered as they took in his new look.

"Look at you!" Hunter said. "You look like you're about to go play jump rope."

"Maybe you should take a look at yourself before to make fun of me," Jack answered, slitting his eyes in feminine rage. "Doll face!"

"Can the next competition be arm wrestling?" Hunter asked, eying Jack's puny little arms.

Jack looked away, humiliated.

"No arm wrestling," Graham said. "Not ladylike at all. They're getting quite catty, aren't they?" He said, glancing toward the audience, who dutifully laughed. "In fact, our next game is a fun one. Let's show these ladies what they're in for, shall we?"

A curtain opened revealing a bowling lane, above which a sign read "Bowling for Booty."

Both men groaned at the prospect threatened in the game's name. "It seems you both figured out what happens if you lose?" Graham said. They nodded, chagrined.

"So, how this works, is you go up, throw a bowling ball down the lane, and whoever knocks down the most pins, wins."

"That's it?" Hunter said, one hand to his cheek, his nails glistening in the studio lights. "That simple?"

"I'm not buying it either," Jack said, idly tugging on one of the shoulder straps of his overalls.

"Well, looks your women's intuition is kicking in," Graham said, "because of course, there is a complication!" Francine rolled out a row of wigs. "You will have to perform this task with bangs!" The audience laughed. "How long those bangs are will be determined by how far you can toss a football! That's a manly thing, right? Throwing a football?"

The audience shouted "yes!"

"But that's not fair," Jack said. 'I mean, look at me. My arms are like noodles!"

"Come, come," Graham said. "There's no crying in football!"

The two men came out from behind the contestant's stands, and the audience tittered as they saw a new detail of Jack's outfit-- there was a sunflower embroidered on his right back pocket. As they walked over to the football game, Hunter patted Jack on the head and said, "You're so cute!"

Jack pulled away. "Cut it out!"

There was a kind of football field set up with yard lines. "The farther you throw the ball, the shorter your bangs," Graham said. "Ready?" He handed the football to Hunter.

"Let pint sized go first," Hunter said, handing the ball to Jack.

"Idiot," Jack said, taking the ball in his small, soft hands. He'd thrown the ball around when he was a kid about this same sized, so he knew he could do it even in this little body, with these scrawny arms, but he had to remember. He'd gotten used to being able to easily hold it in one hand, toss it.... Now, it felt too big, and he couldn't really squeeze it, having to kind of let it rest on top of his palm.... In fact, as he move into position and prepared to throw, his mind seemed to grow cloudy and confused... he couldn't remember how to move his legs or arm... the proper stance, and just as he was about to throw he heard a woman's face in his head say, 'boys done like athletic girls' and he made a little squeaking sound as he awkwardly hopped on one foot while kicking the other back and then pushed the ball forward, watching in horror as it just kerplunked only a few feet away.

The audience howled, and Jack felt himself blushing in shame.

"Let's see that again in slow mo!" Jack forced himself to watch as he attempted the most awkwardly girly girl football toss in history. At least I look cute, he thought, turning away and covering his eyes with his hands.

"Do you think you can do better?" Graham said, handing the ball to Hunter.

"I couldn't do much worse." He gripped the ball, trying to get a sense of how to throw it in his stilettos, remembering how they had betrayed him in the golf game.

"Don't break a nail!" Francine called.

Hunter rolled his eyes. He took up position, and deciding not to use his legs much as he did not trust the tiny little heels for support, he used as much upper body strength as he could muster, tossing the ball about halfway the length of the game, feeling his breasts sway, one strap slip down off his shoulder. He wobbled on his heels but managed not to fall. His throw looked almost as awkwardly girly as Jack's, and it was a pitiful throw, but compared to Jack's a triumph. Hunter smiled prettily even as he slipped a thumb into the collar of his blouse, hooking his bra strap and pulling it back into place. "Very cute," Graham said.

"Gosh, thanks!" Hunter said.

Jack crossed his arms, glaring at Hunter, seething with jealousy. I am way more cute than him! he thought. Ugh!

The two men were now fitted with their wigs. Jack found himself fitted with a long, inky black wig that trailed down his back and bangs that swept down over his forehead and half covered his eyes. He brushed them back, but they always just flopped back into place. Hunter was given a shining platinum blonde wig, also very long, but his bangs came to just above his eyes and didn't really impede his vision at all. With his pretty, painted his face, the blonde wig made him look like a glamorous movie star.

"I can't even see," Jack said as they headed to the bowling lanes. The women in the audience laughed.

"But you look adorable," Francine said, idly laying with his long hair.

"Really?" Jack said, pleased. The audience laughed again.

Jack could not pick up the bowling ball with one hand, so he had to carry with both hands clasped under it, cradling it as he waddled toward the starting line. The audience was in stitches seeing the formally macho stud so tiny and weak. Jack heard them laughing and wanted to hide in shame, but he had to win this contest! He had to make Hunter his woman! All of this would be a soon forgotten memory, he promised himself. One he won. With his arms occupied, he couldn't even try to brush his bangs out of his eyes, so he had to try his best to look around the masses of hair, through to the gaps where he could get glimpses of the world. He had seen women with hair covering their eyes and wondered how they could function, but now he realized they could see a little bit and had figured out how to make that work.

When Jack reached the line, he was so tired from the strain of carrying the bowling ball he just kind of gasped and lunged, rolling it forward granny style, immediately running a hand through his hair, tossing it back, pushing the bangs out of his eyes. The ball was rolling slowly.... So slowly... but it was heading right down the middle of the lane. Jack head his breath, eyes wide.... "Come on... come on...!" He shouted in his pretty little voice. The ball finally rolled into the front pin almost seeming to move in slow motion, pushing the pin over, then brushing against a few others, knocking them over... miraculously, when the slow motion pin display had ended, Jack had knocked over eight pins. He hopped up and down, clapping his hands under his chin, squealing. The audience cheered, delighted at how adorable he was becoming.

"Top that!" He chirped as Hunter moved into position to take his turn.

Hunter just made a "unh!" Sound and headed to the ball return, taking the same pink ball Jack had used, slipping his fingers into the holes and lifting it with one arm. He glanced back over his shoulder and stuck his tongue out at Jack, who rolled his eyes and said, "what-ever!"

Hunter strode toward the line, bringing the ball back... some of his long blonde hair got into his mouth, and his ankle gave way... he tumbled to the floor and the ball left his hand, rolling right into the gutter. "No," Hunter said, pushing himself up on one arm while burying the other in his thick blonde hair. "Oh, no."

One of the studly assistants rushed to Hunter's side. "Miss?" He said, offering his hand.

Hunter took the man's hand and allowed him to help him back to his feet. "Thank you," he said, offering the man a pretty smile, even as he struggled to fight back tears. 'I'm a good bowler," he murmured. "I really am."

He felt his bottom begin to tingle, felt it swelling, filling out and then a ripping sound as his pants tore open. "Baby got back!" Graham said as the song of the same name began to play over the studio sound system. The audience roared. Hunter put both of his hands over his now plump ass, which caused him to thrust his breasts forward.

"Someone needs a new outfit!" Francine said, coming out, putting a hand on the small of Hunter's back and guiding the shocked and humiliated man offstage. Hunter could feel his butt swiveling now, sticking out if felt like a foot behind his body. His breasts were swaying in counter point, and all of it accentuated by the clicking of his heels. "I may lose this," he finally realized. "I may have to become a woman-- for the rest of my life."

Jack watched it all, twisting a strand of his hair around his fingers. Part of him was amused to see Hunter with those big, bouncy boobs and now the ass of a goddess. He thought he was so tough, Jack though. And now he looks like a Playboy Bunny.

Yet, part of him also felt ashamed of his skinny, flat little body. "Why does that bitch get all the luck?" He thought, his mind whirling with confusion at his new needs and desires.

Graham took center stage. "Break time," he called. "We'll let our lovely contestants take a sec, and as you know, we'll do some backstage interviews with the girls to see how they are holding up. So, snuggle down and watch this ad for Stay Free Maxi pads, and when we come back, we'll find out which one of these studs is going to have to start using them!"

After the commercial, the show came back on in the "behind the scenes mode" with fuzzy, backstage hidden camera footage. "Seriously?" Hunter asked as Francine handed him a pair of black leggings. Then, cut to a shot of him coming out of the dressing room, the camera focusing in on how the leggings hug his plump, heart shaped ass, wiggling enticingly as he plucked at a strand of his long blonde hair, his other hand out to the side, hand raised at the wrist. He'd also been giving a new top, this time a tight, stretchy black shirt with a scoop neck.

It then shifted to jack, who was sitting, legs crossed at the knee, tossing his long black hair over his shoulders. A stylist was there, and she gave him a Barrett and explained how he could use it to clip his bangs back and keep them out of his eyes. "Thanks!" He said, looking in the mirror and concentrating intently as he brushed his bangs back and then clipped them. He smiled brightly and held his hands to either side of his face. "Ta da!"

"Good job!" The stylist said, patting him on the cheek.

Jack looked in the mirror, tilting his head side to side and then he said, "Can you brain my hair?"

The camera shifted back to Hunter as he sat, a stylist fluffing and primping his hair. Francine was there. "How do you think things are going?" She asked.

Hunter was looking at his nails, then adjusting the shirt he'd been given. "I guess okay?" He said. 'I mean, I didn't think I would be so curvy ever in my life, but what does it matter as long as I win?"

"You look gorgeous," Francine said.

"Omigod, thanks," Hunter said. But then, he frowned and said, "I feel like I need some color. This outfit is sexy, but all black?"

"You are so right, honey," the stylist said. "I'll find you something."

The camera then switched to Jack, who now had sparkling clip on earrings flashing in his delicate little earlobes. "How's the game going for you?" Francine asked. "Do you feel good about where you are so far?"

Jack bit on his pinky as he sought for the right words. "Well, I guess I have won most of the challenges so far, but it almost feels like I am losing?"

"How so?"

"He's a lot prettier than me," Jack said.

The audience laughed.

"Would you like a little makeup?" Francine asked. "Pretty up a little?"

No, Jack thought. What am I saying? Thinking? "I don't think so," he said. "I'm a guy?"

"You'd feel more confident," Francine urged. "You'd be prettier."

That was all it took. Jack gushed out, "Please! Yes!"

"Welcome back, ladies and more ladies," Graham said as the camera went back to live. "It's time for the final rounds, and our manly contestants are looking downright adorable, wouldn't you agree?" The audience cheered. Jack and Hunter reveled in the praise at the same time they felt mortified. Hunter now wore the leggings, showing off his long, sexy legs and round hips, and the top clung to his to firm, bouncy breasts. His blonde hair sparkled under the stage lights. Jack's black hair had been put into a French braid, and his face now glowed with bright, day make-up-- his lips sparkled a bubble gum pink, and his cheeks glowed with blush. His eyes popped now, with eyeliner and mascara really highlighting his curly lashes.

"Let's show our lovely contestants their next challenge!" Graham said. The curtain opened to reveal a mock city playground set, a cut out of some girls jumping rope and a sign that read, "Rope a Rama!"

"I hope you girls are ready to jump some rope and do some chanting!" Graham said.

"In heels?" Jack squeaked.

"It's not meant to be easy!"

"How this one works," Graham said. "Is you both start jumping rope while also reading off the monitor there and chanting the chants. The first one to falter, loses and faces the wheel! Good enough?"

The men nodded as Francine handed each of them a pink jump rope. They moved into their positions and a rhythmic drumming started. "Either of you jump rope?" Graham asked.

"All the time at the gym. I got this!" Hunter said.

"Bring it!" Jack shrieked.

"And go!"

They both started jumping, bringing the ropes around, popping up and down. Hunter was immediately unnerved to feel his huge boobs bouncing up and down, and he heard the men in the crowd laughing with glee. Jack's ponytail was bouncing and swishing. The monitor started to show the chant, and both of the men started to sing along:

Boys are gross

Boys they smell

I wanna be a pretty belle

The audience laughed

Make me pretty

Make me sweet

Make me love

Getting beat

On the last word, Jack's shoe slipped partially off, and when he tried to get it back on, the action threw off his rhythm and made him miss the next jump, the rope happing on his ankle.

Womp Womp.

"I win!" Hunter sang out, prancing, wiggling his hips.

'Indeed. Come give the wheel a spin!"

Hunter tossed his hair triumphantly and went to the wheel, giving it a spin. It landed on His Time of the Month. Hunter pumped his fists. "Haha!"

"Oh, no," Jack said. He put a hand to his tummy as he felt a terrible cramp. "Ow!" He squealed. The women all laughed, pleased to see a man suffering a menstrual cramp, especially a man like Jack. "Come on, sister," Francine said, taking Jack's hand. "Time for me to explain a few things to you about being a woman." She held a box of Tampax, which she handed to Jack. "Meet your new best friend!" She said.

"Take zem back!" Jack said, trying to give the box back to Francine. "Que? Why am I speaking with ze French accent?" Jack said.

"Cause you're tuning into my dream girl!" Hunter said, tossing his hair.

Jack's eyes went wide with horror, and he almost died with shame as he was left off the stage.

"Enjoy the red wedding!" Hunter taunted.

"Sacre bleu!" Jack hissed back.

"While Jackie gets feminine fresh, how about a game?" Graham said.

"Do I have a choice?" Hunter said, putting a hand on his round hip.

"None whatsoever," Graham said, laughing along with the audience. "How do you like being a blonde, by the way?"

Hunter tossed his hair. "It is kinda more fun," he said. The audience giggled.

A curtain parted revealing a booth like you would find at a carnival. There was a milk jug and some rings. "You know this game, right?" Graham said. "Ring toss?"

"Yes," Hunter said. "I've played it a few times."

"And you know a thing or two about milk jugs as well," Graham said, pointing toward his breasts.

Hunter giggled.

"Get a ring over the jug, and you can spin the Wheel of Woman for Jackie again. Fail, and you get further feminized."

"'Kay," Hunter said, taking one of the rings. His confidence in his ability to perform athletic tasks was gone. He adjusted his bra straps. Bit his lip. Closed one eye, and making sure he was as balanced on his heels as possible, he tossed the ring--- only for it to fly so wide of the mark as to be ridiculous. "Oh!" He said, making fists and stomping one foot, making his boobs jiggle. "Darn!"

The camera cut to backstage, Jack coming sheepishly out of the bathroom. "Did you get the pad in place like I told you?" Francine said in a gentle, sisterly tone.

Jack nodded. "It's kind of uncomfortable."

"Ohhhhh," the audience cooed.

"And I have to concentrate real hard from speaking with ze accent Le France--darn!"

"Your feminine protection will keep you from leaking and embarrassing yourself," Francine said. "You're going to have a very high flow day."

Jack covered his face in shame. "How do you feel?" Francine asked.

"I feel all... puffy and bloated and my nipples are sensitive and almost like I have a cold? It's awful!"

The woman all chuckled knowingly.

"You're having your first period," Francine said. "Congratulations!"

Outside, Hunter had tossed his last ring, which actually grazed the milk jug before bouncing away. He sighed. "I am so bad at sports!" He said, and even as he spoke the words, he realized he now had a little girl voice, even higher pitched than Jack's. Meanwhile, the audience saw that his whole body grew more slender, his arms shrinking to pretty, feminine little stems, his wrists getting tiny and pretty, his neck growing longer and more graceful.

Jack came out, looking horribly humiliated.

"Well, ladies, we are getting down to the final games, and pretty soon we will find out who is going to spend the rest of his life as a sexy little piece of arm candy. Are you ready for your next challenge?"

Jack and Hunter glared at each other. "Bring it on," Hunter said.

"Show me what you got, by-otch!" Jack said.

"Are you sure you used to be men?" Graham said. The audience roared. The comment brought Hunter and Jack back to themselves as they realized how ridiculous they sounded, and they both tried their best to shift the way they were standing to be less feminine.

"Well, we've seen you two are pretty hapless when it comes to doing anything boys might be good at, so the rest of the games will test your femininity," Graham said. "Beginning with your walk. It is very important for a woman to have a graceful and sexy walk, wouldn't you agree?"

"I guess," Hunter said.

'If you say so," Jack said.

"And so, you will both now attempt to walk through a city street with a book on your head! Francine, would you care to demonstrate?"

"With pleasure!" Funky techno music started to play as a curtain pulled back revealing a cityscape. Francine effortlessly walked right along the course, stepping over an open sewer, dodging a robot rat that ran across her path, and ignoring cat calling construction workers as she crossed a section of uneven sidewalk. "She's so perfect," Hunter mumbled in awe, clapping his soft little hands.

"I want to be her," Jack said, clapping as well, even as the audience roared.

Francine came back around, handed the book to Hunter and gave him an air kiss on the cheek. "Good luck, sexy!"

Hunter put the book on his head and giggled as he started walking forward. He had his arms down at his sides, his hands bent up at the wrists, and he found himself glancing down with his eyes, trying to see where he was going without moving his head at all. At the sight of the robot rat he shrieked and almost lost it, but managed to regain balance and keep the book on his head, making it past the construction workers before losing it on the uneven sidewalk, just a couple feet from the end.

"Well done! You float like an angel!" Graham said.

"Oh, you," Hunter said, glowing with pride as he tugged on one of his hoop earrings.

"Are you more graceful?" Graham said to Jack. "Can you best this angel?"

"Oui," Jack said as Francine gave him a book and an air kiss. In fact, Jack's period was really bothering him. He felt like he had a gallon of ooze swishing inside his belly, and he had a headache and even the lights now seemed to hurt his eyes. Still. No excuses, he told himself. Time to man up. He plastered a smile on his face, and with his arms at his sides just like Hunter, he started to walk forward across the course, glancing down with just his eyes to navigate. He, too, yelped in fright at the sight of the robot rat, even though he knew it wasn't even real, but the book did not shake. Just as he reached the construction workers, however, and heard them whistling and calling out, "Show me that pretty smile!" He got hit by an epic cramp, and even as he struggled to keep going, to ignore the pain and the urge to double over, he felt fluid leaking out from between his legs-- warm and sticky-- and even though his Tampa was secure and protecting him, the humiliation of his menstrual flow overwhelmed him, and he grabbed the book and threw it down with both hands. "This is so stupid!" He screamed, running off the stage, his long braid swirling behind him.

The room was dead silent, and then Graham looked at the camera and said, "Remember, he is having his period!"

The audience roared and Jack wanted to crawl in a hole and die.

They cut to a commercial. When they came back, Jack had regained his composure and stood, smiling, playing with his braid. Hunter was at the wheel. "Ready little girl?" Hunter said.

"Of the two of us, I am more a woman," Jack said.

"Because you're on the rag?" Hunter said.

"Duh!" Jack shot back. "It means I could have a baby!"

"I'll give you one after I win," Hunter said.

"As if!" Jack said. "Stupide garcon!"

Hunter spun the wheel. It landed on banging body, and as the magic passed over Jack he got his curves-- full, womanly breasts, wide, round hips, and a plump booty. Part of Jack was actually relieved that he'd finally gotten his boobs. He'd been feeling inadequate, like a little girl next to Hunter, and how with his own banging bod, he was just as sexy as the other man.

Of course, whatever was left of the man he'd been was melting with shame and humiliation. He and Hunter checked each other out. "What are you looking at?" Hunter said. "You think you're hot stuff just because you have tits now?"

"I was always le femme magnifique," Jack said. "I'm just thinking about how much fun I am going to have weez you when I get to be ze man again and you're stuck like cow!"

"In your dreams!"

"Okay. So, the claws are out, and our two pretty ladies are ready. Too bad we didn't set up mud wrestling," Graham said. "But, alas, we are getting down to the final minutes, and it is time to find our who is going to be end up Femmed Forever!"

"It's clear you ladies are utterly lacking in even a crumbs' worth of masculinity, so this last game, the one for all the marbles-- and I do mean marbles!" Laughter. "Is one that you should be able to really be able to... swallow." The camera pulled away revealing a banana stand smothered in bright yellow bananas. A robot with an organ grinder stood next to it, and the song "Yes! We have no Bananas!" Was playing. The audience roared.

"What eez these?" Jack said. He was completely uncomfortable with the feeling of his new breasts, and had been shifting his stance, lifting his shoulders, trying to find some way that he wouldn't so hyper aware of all the new--- him-- that was swelling from the front of his chest.

"This is called Bobbing Bananas!" Graham called out. "The contest is for the two of you to compete to see who can eat the most bananas in one minute!"

Francine rolled out a pair of tables covered with already peeled bananas.

"I have a bad feeling about this," Hunter said, putting a hand to his chest.

"Oh," Graham said. "There's only one little trick with this contest. You have to slip the entire banana into your mouth without biting!"

"The whole banana? Without biting?" Jack said. "Why...." Then it occurred to him. "Oh, gross!" He said.

"This show is so sexist!" Hunter added, putting a hand on his hip and tossing his hair.

"Kind of like you were about an hour ago?" Graham said.

"Fine," Jack said, striding to one of the tables covered with the peeled bananas. As he got there, he noticed they were in different sizes, from small little ones right up to some that looked huge. Knowing what the game was meant to represent, he looked at the fat, curved shapes with shame, but he had no idea to be stuck as a woman and have to put up with a period once a month, so if he had to go down on some bananas, so be it.

Hunter followed, looking over the phallic bananas with equal disdain.

"Keep your jaws loose, girls," Francine said. "Just slide them in!"

Heavy hip base filled the room, and NWA started to perform Just Don't Bite It. The two men rolled their eyes in exasperation. The whole thing was so degrading! Then, the buzzer sounded. Jack grabbed the first, smallest banana and slipped it between his lips, chewing and swallowing. He grabbed the second and did the same. They were small. It was easy.

Hunter was also finding it easy, but the third banana was bigger, like a good-sized dill pickle, and he felt a little intimidated as he picked it up. He licked his lips, slipped the banana in, almost wretched, but then slid it in the rest of the way, pumping a fist with pride. The audience applauded.

Jack got his third one down. As both chewed and swallowed, white juice trickled from the corners of their mouths and down their chins. The audience chuckled. They each picked up the fourth banana. This one was thick, 3/4 of a foot long, and each man eyed it warily, licking his lips, taking a deep breath, then sliding it between his plump, wet lips, slipping it deeper and deeper into his mouth, along his tongue until he could feel it tickling his tonsils.

As Hunter felt the banana bump up against his tonsils, he wretched and spit the banana halfway out. Jack, hearing the audience's reaction, relaxed his throat and closed his eyes, slipping the banana all the way into his mouth.

Hunter pushed his back into his mouth, desperate not to lose, but once again he felt himself wrenching, and his jaw just reacted, his teeth cutting into the banana, which came apart, the bottom half slipping back out of his lips, falling to the counter trailing sticky white strands of saliva. Hunter spat the rest out, lowering his head in defeat.

Jack chewed and swallowed his banana, raising both fists in the air, thrusting his breasts out and shaking them triumphantly. "I win!" He sang out. "I am such more ze man zan you!"

The audience cheered and laughed, clapping and hooting.

"You took that like a pro," Graham said. "What an amazing mouth, right, folks?"

The audience cheered some more. Jack smiled, tossing his braid and planted a triumphant hand on one of his soft, round hips. "I never knew I could be so good at theze!" He squealed like a cheerleader.

"I am sure you didn't," Francine said. "But this show is all about discovering hidden talents!"

"What now?" Hunter said. "Is that it, then?"

"I'm afraid we have reached the end of the show. However, I have a surprise for you two. A big, special surprise. This, as I suspect our loyal viewers are aware, is our 100th episode!" More cheers. "And in honor of our 100th episode, we will have two winners!"

"What?" Hunter said. "You mean I'm not stuck as a woman?"

"But wait," Jack said. "I'm supposed to get her as my femme, right?"

"I will explain all after these messages-- and after our lovely contestants get a quick little makeover! Stay tuned for the big surprise!"

When the show came back after an ad for Mr. Clean, the camera focused on Hunter, who was now dressed like a beer maid in a German beer garden. Jack was now dressed like a French maid. They looked nervous and confused. Jack had a pink rose tucked over one ear, while Hunter had a red one.

"Now, the surprise! Clearly, neither of you read the contracts you signed, but they stipulated that you would both become women and the doting female side pieces of a couple of lucky men!"

"What eez theez!" Jack shrieked in a French accent. "You cannot do theze!"

"I won't do it!" Hunter screamed. "You tricked us!"

"Men, look under your seats!" Graham shouted, ignoring the pleasing girls. Two men found and excitedly held up roses they found under their seats: One red and one pink. "Come down and claim your prizes!"

The two men eagerly ran down from their seats in the audience. Hunter and Jack shrieked and tried to flee, but in their tight little dresses and heels, they could barely move. The men grabbed them, lifted them off their feet and threw them over their shoulders.

"Et me go!" Jack screamed, kicking his legs helplessly. "Ze pig!"

"Put me down!" Hunter said. "You big ape!"

Hearing the two formerly macho a-holes squealing like helpless little women filled the audience with glee, and they cheered and laughed, even as both Jack and Hunter felt the last few changes in their bodies happening, their minds growing fuzzy, warm.

Jack started giggling. "Ou're so, how do zey say? Strong?" he cooed.

Hunter was also giggling. "I love a man who takes command," he sang. "You're a dream!"

"Amore!" Jack said. "I am yours!"

* * * *

The camera came back to Graham, who shrugged. "Well, it looks like they are happy in the end, right? So, thanks for watching, and that brings us to the conclusion another smashing installment of "Wheel of Woman!"