FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Author's note: My god, it has been a long time since I posted. I was upset for a while that you couldn't read stories without signing in--after all, I found Yiffstar (as it was then called) off a blind Google search--but I got over it in the end. I've got a few partial stories sitting around, but this is the first that actually reached a full chapter.

As a forewarning, this first part is mostly plot. There's bits and pieces of sexiness scattered through it, but if you're looking for a quick story to paw off to, this probably isn't the right story for you.

Also, while I won't rule out this being a furry world, none of my current plans require it. Indeed, fur could be an unfair advantage on this show, as you'll see soon. So, for the moment, you're stuck with plain ol' humans. Sorry. :P

* * *

"Good evening, everybody, I'm Albert Kernan and welcome to another round of You Bet Your Clit, the show where young ladies put their sex lives on the line to win cold, hard cash. As you know, there are four levels to You Bet Your Clit: Short, Medium, Long, and Permanent. Tonight's show is a Medium game, meaning that our contestants are risking up to a year of numbness in exchange for a chance to win $100,000."

Jodi swallowed nervously, wishing she could back out. It had seemed like a good idea on paper, but now, as she stood under the bright studio lights, the reality of the situation was sinking in.

Logically, it was a good deal. With no boyfriend, the only "sex life" she had was with her fingers or the vibrator she'd gotten as a gag gift years ago. Sure, she used one or the other nearly every day, but it's not like there would be permanent damage or anything. She'd be unable to have an orgasm for a year, but when the time was up, her clit would wake back up, and everything would go back to normal. And, hell, maybe having one less thing to distract her would help with the job hunt.

She'd been trying for months, but couldn't manage to get a job anywhere--not even flipping burgers, despite her parents' assertion that "Fast food chains are always hiring, dear. If you can't get anything else, start there." Her college debt wasn't all that bad, only a few thousand bucks, but she was quickly discovering that a degree in English Lit doesn't impress many people.

The long and short of it was that Jodi needed to earn at least $7k in the next two weeks, or her landlord was going to kick her out. Which meant that, nervous or not, You Bet Your Clit was her best chance of staying off the streets.

She would have preferred a Short game. The penalties changed by a factor of ten with each level, so losing a Short game could only put her out of action for a little over a month. Unfortunately, higher levels had *much* better ratings, so the rewards changed by a hundred, and the mere $1,000 she could get for winning a Short game just wouldn't cut it.

Even so, the game show's time-release local anesthetic wasn't her primary concern right now. It would be if she lost, of course, but for the moment, it was embarrassment that made her want to back out.

The costume they'd given her wasn't too bad, for now. Between the sky blue T-shirt and its matching knee-length skirt, it wasn't that dissimilar from what she might pick out herself on a lazy Sunday shopping trip. The navy blue belt and shoes made the outfit a bit too monotone for her tastes, but it would do.

On the other hand, what she had on underneath was less normal. The provided clothing also included lace underwear, also blue. She knew all too well how soon that would be revealed. And even that wouldn't last long.

Oh, yes, she knew exactly what to expect. You Bet Your Clit was, more often than not, the focus of her daily "alone time". She didn't consider herself a lesbian, or even fully bi. Bi-curious, at most. But there was just something about the show, the way it mixed consent with things you didn't want, and self-control with a total lack of control. Mmmm.

Supposedly, there was a companion series in the works. Named, predictably enough, You Bet Your Dick. To be honest, that was a large part of why the year-long penalty annoyed her. If the "insider information" on the forums was right, it would be announced in a few weeks, with the pilot airing in just under two months. She wanted her lower half wide awake so she could celebrate the premier appropriately. Everything she already liked about the show, plus bodies to drool over? Oh, yeah, she was drooling already, and not from her upper lips.

Jodi blinked, mentally chastising herself for getting distracted. Like it or not, she was committed, and she'd better pay attention if she wanted to win. And getting aroused wasn't going to help. Probably. It depended on which game came up first.

While she was distracted, the host had already introduced three of her four competitors.

Ellen was a tall blonde with massive breasts. Jodi's own B cup seemed woefully small in comparison, but a chest that big could be a problem in some of the games. Jodi hoped those games came up soon, because Ellen scared her. She looked and sounded like an air-headed valley girl, but Jodi had seen the way she scanned a room as she entered it. There was a sharp and devious mind behind that vacant gaze, and her tall frame made it hard to spot the well-toned muscle she packed. She'd beat Jodi easily in a straight-up fight, and could probably outdo her in most athletic challenges. Tough competition.

Anne, on the other hand, was a warm, bouncy brunette. Even Ellen's fake smile seemed to become a bit real in response to some of her antics. Short and curvy, she was clearly not in shape, and Jodi wondered if she wanted the money at all, or if this was just her idea of fun. Her chest was about Jodi's size, B or maybe C.

Miki was a cross between two stereotypes. She had the body of a tiny Japanese lady, flat-chested and looking barely out of high school. The way she moved, on the other hand, made her look like a martial arts master. She had grace, poise, and a certain "don't mess with me" look to her, totally out of whack with her body type. In spite of her obvious physical condition, Jodi thought she could take Miki head-on. She had a lot of muscle for her size, but there was only so much size for her to hang that muscle on. If need be, Jodi was sure she could pick Miki up and just throw her away. But Jodi's own confidence worried her, an internal warning light pointing out that underestimating an opponent was a sure way to lose.

And then there was Patty. Jodi had no idea what to make of Patty. Like Jodi, she was of average height, with the same freckles, curly red hair and breasts that were maybe a hair smaller. Maybe. Jodi suspected that if you took a photograph of both of them wearing the same outfit and blanked out the faces, they'd look like identical twins. On the other hand, Patty's personality was... well, Jodi thought she'd met jars of mayonnaise with a higher IQ. How Patty had managed to fill out the application form with more than crayon doodles, Jodi had no idea.

The host, a tall, black-haired bodybuilder with a razor-sharp wit, finished introducing the contestants just as Jodi finished her own re-assessment. "But enough about them, let's get the action started! Behind me, you can see the Wheel of Challenge. Each round, we'll select a new challenge, and each contestant will have a chance to win money. At the end of each round, the contestant with the smallest total is out, and will suffer a penalty based on how badly they did in that round. At the end of four rounds, our winner will face the Grand Bet. Remember, folks, the stakes go up as the game goes on, so stay tuned. The first round starts right after this."

The set crew announced a cut, and the host turned to smile kindly at the contestants. "Take a few deep breaths and try to stay calm. Everyone gets nervous on stage--especially on this show--but we take a few minutes' break when the show would go to commercial, so try to relax. The more you can relax, the better you're likely to do."

Jodi didn't notice the other contestant's reaction, but she thought it was good advice, and tried to follow it, willfully unclenching her fists and forcing herself to take deep breaths. She closed her eyes, trying to force her mind blank. It wasn't easy, but it definitely helped a bit. When she opened her eyes again, she was still nervous, but it was manageable, and she smiled at Albert.

He nodded, looking at her. "Better. Okay, we've got about 30 seconds before we're back on. Once we know what the game is, you'll get to watch the same explanation video that the viewers see. Depending on the game, we may start right after the video, or you may need to go change into a different outfit first."

They'd heard the schedule before, of course, but Jodi still appreciated the reminder. One less thing to worry about.

The set crew started counting down, and Albert smiled at the camera. "Let's see what our first game is!" He turned to the wheel, and gave it a strong spin.

Jodi usually liked the wheel. It was an old-style wheel, with spokes and a physical pointer, and made a pleasant clicking as it span. It felt more real to her than the digital "spinners" modern game shows seemed to favor.

It also took a lot longer to finish spinning. She hadn't realized how much of the spin time they cut out of the footage. They let it spin around three or four times to show how fast it was going, then switched camera angles and jumped ahead about 20 seconds, when it was finally slowing down to the point where the choices were visible again.

In person, she had to wait, and time seemed to stretch out. She almost giggled when she noticed how much the fast-spinning wheel sounded like a vibrator as it hit the pointer repeatedly. The few seconds it spun at high speed hadn't made that obvious, but if she closed her eyes as it ran, she could picture Albert holding a vibrator rather than standing next to the wheel.

She opened her eyes again with a start. That was not a good line of thinking to get into right now. The first round wheel was mostly physical challenges, so getting her motor running would only be a distraction.

The wheel slowed down, and the spaces became visible. The buzzing noise separated out into a series of clicks, slowing, slowing, and... stopping.

"Our first game is Dripping Wet. Tell us how it's played, Sam!"

The explanation video started playing, with cartoonish animations depicting the event. The host walked off to the side to let them watch.

"Dripping Wet is an obstacle course where victory isn't measured in time, it's measured in water. Once the contestants leave the starting pool, they'll have to squeeze through the wringer, navigate the towel maze, and cross Blowdryer Bridge to reach the finish line. Once they reach the finish line, they must wring out their clothes into their color-coded basin. The person with the most water in their basin is the winner.

"Now, the clothes themselves don't hold much water, so to make things a bit more interesting, we've given each contestant four sponges: One on each nipple, one on the front of their panties, and one on the back. They aren't held on tightly, though, so if our girls aren't careful, they'll knock them right off. They're free to hold on to the sponges, even if they come loose, but if a sponge hits the floor, it's gone. And, of course, if they hold on too tightly, there won't be any water left in the sponge."

As the video ended, Albert spoke again. "Okay, you'll keep your starting outfits for this one, but head into the changing rooms anyway so your costumers can put the sponges on. They'll stitch them on tightly, but if you move too quickly, the sponge will break off, so be careful with them. You wouldn't want to lose a sponge before the game even started, now would you?" He grinned impishly.

Jodi glanced at her competitors. Emily's smile was vacant, as usual, but Jodi had seen the way she concentrated on the video. Anne was grinning, clearly excited to start the game. Miki looked calm and collected--a shoe-in for victory, if Albert's advice was correct. Patty, for a wonder, actually looked like she might have understood half the words in the video; she was still frowning at the blank screen.

Jodi weighed their chances on her way to the changing room. She predicted Ellen in first, Miki and herself fighting over second and third, Anne in fourth, and Patty squeezing her clothes into someone else's basin... if she even managed to reach the finish line. Though the sponges attached to Ellen's nipples might be a problem for her, so maybe Jodi had a chance at first.

The changing room was a white, cylindrical room with a dais big enough for her to stand on and a pathway all around it for the costumer. Cameras were studded all around the walls, and Jodi winced slightly. She'd forgotten about those.

You Bet Your Clit wasn't exactly the kind of show you could show on a major network during prime time. Privately, Jodi suspected, the network execs would love to be able to put it on--sex always sells, after all--but publicly they feigned the same apoplexy as everybody else at the degradation of society that could allow for such shameless exploitation of women. She snorted. They probably went back to their penthouse after each press conference and downloaded the latest episode... "for research purposes", of course.

The show was released in three tiers: Basic, Multi-Camera, and VIP. The Basic tier of the current week's Short game was free, and the older ones were $1/month for access to the entire archive. For $10/month (or $1/episode, if you preferred), you could get Multi-Camera access to Short games, allowing you to switch the view between 5 cameras. Or you could get Basic access to Medium games. For $100/month or $10/episode, you could get VIP access to Short games, giving you full access to the uncut footage, including behind-the-scenes cameras, like the ones in Jodi's changing room. Or Multi-Camera access to Medium games, or Basic access to Long games. And so on, all the way up to an incredible $100,000 per month (or "only" $10k/episode) for VIP access to Permanent games.

Jodi had never been able to afford anything that ridiculous, of course. She usually stuck to the free episodes, though she'd bought a couple Basic-Medium episodes, and one Multi-Camera Basic, just to test it out. The extra cameras seemed more work than they were worth, to her at least, but she had to admit that the higher prizes and penalties in Medium were exciting, even though the games didn't change much. And clearly there were people--LOTS of people--buying the higher tiers and higher-stakes levels; otherwise, how could the producers risk a billion dollars a week on Permanent?

Jodi shook herself and stepped into the changing room. She could understand the appeal of that much money, but she was questioning her own sanity at risking a year of feeling. The thought of risking all sexual pleasure, permanently, sent a bolt of fear straight to her heart. So did the thought of someone else doing it, for that matter. Well, mostly fear. And if the rest of that bolt hit a foot or two below her heart, well, she'd think about it if she ever had $100 to spend on a whim.

* * *

Jodi's step faltered as she entered the changing room. Smiling slightly and leaning against the wall was a man, wearing only a tight swimsuit. And not just any man, either. Her eyes ran over him, and she swallowed reflexively. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and covered in muscles. Not bodybuilder-style caricature muscles, but the healthy bulges of a man who kept himself in top condition. He had a handsome face, too, especially with that confident smile bending the ends of his mustache up slightly.

"Hello, Jodi. I'm your costume specialist, Raoul. Not much to do this time, so hop up and let's get those sponges attached." He smiled.

As she stepped up onto the dais, Jodi caught herself looking at Raoul's swimsuit. She yanked her eyes away, but had trouble banishing the image from her mind. He was definitely packing some serious equipment.

Raoul pulled out the first sponge and held it up for her to see. It was a large sponge, the kind you might use in a shower. The same shade of blue as her outfit, of course. On one side, it formed a small hoop.

"We'll run the thread through this ring. For the sponges on your nipples, the ring is the most likely part to fail, either torn by the thread, or ripped off the main part of the sponge."

That said, Raoul gripped the sponge with his lips and picked up the needle and thread. He ran his left hand up her shirt, and Jodi could feel goosebumps rising. Using that hand to brace the cloth in front of her left breast, he began stitching the sponge onto her costume. The back of his hand wasn't--quite--touching Jodi's nipple, but it stiffened in response anyway.

One sponge down, he pulled his hand out, grabbed the second sponge, and wordlessly repeated the procedure for her right breast.

"Okay, the lower two are a bit different, even though the sponges are identical. Your top and skirt are strong fabric, but the costume's underwear is lace, as I'm sure you recall. It's not very strong lace, either. By design, of course. So while there's still a good chance that the ring will fail on these two, there's *also* a good chance that your panties will rip. Now, it might just rip right where I attach the sponge, and be all but invisible. If it does more damage... well, I'm sure the audience won't object." He grinned impishly, and Jodi blushed. She was sure the camera men would be meticulous in documenting exactly how much damage was done.

He motioned for her to turn around, picking up the third sponge. A moment later, Jodi shivered as Raoul slid his hand under the back side of her panties. Unlike the shirt, there wasn't enough give in the panties to keep his hand away from her body, and after what he'd just said about the lace's strength, she suspected they'd rip completely if he tried to force the issue. Besides, the back of his hand felt nice against her butt as he manipulated the needle. She was almost disappointed when he finished and pulled it out.

"Three down, one to go, Turn around again, please."

Jodi turned around, blushing again as Raoul smiled up at her around the last sponge, then focused on the front of her panties. He slid his hand underneath, and Jodi bit her lip as it slid across her, sending a jolt of pleasure up her spine as it slowly stroked her mound, the top of her lips, and straight across her clit on the way to its position. Raoul gripped the sponge with his hand long enough to look up and say, "Is that a pebble in your panties, or are you happy to see me?"

Jodi chuckled nervously at the reversal of the standard joke. He was right; watching Raoul would have been enough to get her motor running even if he'd been standing on the other side of the room. Having him alter her clothes in situ had made her very wet, and her clit was standing at attention, reacting to every fine hair on the back of his hand.

Raoul smiled, then took the sponge back in his lips and started working. Jodi had never paid much attention to how the back of your hand moves as you control your fingers, but with the back of Raoul's hand pressed against her clit, she was rapidly gaining an appreciation for it. As he passed the needle back and forth, the back of his hand undulated against her clit, effectively giving it a slow, gentle massage. It was all she could do to avoid moaning--not, to channel Raoul's earlier line, that the audience would object. She looked at one of the cameras, certain that whether she moaned or not, she wasn't fooling anyone--least of all Raoul. He seemed to be moving things around just a little more than she felt was strictly required. But, like the audience, she wasn't objecting, either.

Finally--or perhaps far too soon--Raoul finished his stitching and pulled his hand out, sliding it down along her lips as he did. "All done!" He made a show of glancing down at his hand. "I seem to have gotten my hand wet, somehow. Sorry about that, I hope it wasn't uncomfortable." He smiled at her, clearly knowing full well why the back of his fingers was damp.

"Not at all. You can do that again any time you like." Jodi froze for a moment. Did she really say that out loud? And on camera, no less.

Raoul smiled up at her, and offered a hand to help her down. "I might have to take you up on that." Jodi stared into his eyes. That sounded surprisingly sincere, not just hamming it up for the audience. She took his hand and stepped down from the dais. A foot lower, she had to look up at him now. "I'd like that," she said, with equal sincerity.

She stared into his eyes for a couple heartbeats, then smiled and tilted her head almost imperceptibly towards the cameras. He nodded, equally slightly. They'd given the romantics with a VIP pass enough of a show already; this was a conversation to continue later, off-camera.

Raoul said, "Well, you shouldn't keep them waiting. Good luck, and be careful with the sponges. They're not wet yet, so they're light, but you could still damage them if you move too quickly."

Jodi nodded. "Thanks!" She smiled at him for just a moment longer than necessary, then turned and walked--gently--down the hallway towards the first event. Her lower lips rubbed together slickly, a pleasant reminder of the changing room.

* * *

Albert called out, "As you can see, our ladies have their sponges on, and we're ready to get started. Before we start, I'd like to remind everyone that there are three tiers of access available. For those of you on basic and multi-camera access, we cut here right after the explanation video. If you have VIP access, however, you had a chance to watch the sponges get stitched on. I won't spoil the details, but one of our contestants definitely had an interesting reaction. Remember, you can buy a single-episode upgrade even if you're on the monthly plan."

Jodi froze for a moment. Was Albert talking about...? She shook her head slightly. This was definitely not a good time to get distracted.

"As a reminder, this contest is about water, not time. There is a time limit, but at 10 minutes, it's mostly a formality. As long as you keep moving, however slowly, it shouldn't be a problem.

"Everybody ready? Three, two, one, begin!"

With that, the clock chirped and started counting down. Jodi walked carefully up to the ladder--

*SPLASH * Surprised, Jodi looked to the side. Evidently, Patty had eschewed the ladder and jumped into the pool. Jodi wasn't surprised to see four sponges floating on the surface. She was, however, surprised to see that two of them were still attached to Patty's nipples. As Jodi watched, Patty seemed to panic and grab after her lower sponges.

Jodi shook her head, wondering briefly if Patty would make it to the end with any sponges left at all, before turning her attention back to her own course.

Slowly, Jodi descended the ladder into the pool. As the tops of her legs reached the water, the sponges began to float. As a viewer, Jodi knew that this was actually one of the most critical spots. The fabric they used for the panties got slightly stronger when wet, so until it had a chance to soak, it was even more flimsy than usual. Approach this the wrong way, and she'd be like Patty, carrying a sponge in each hand.

But she knew the answer. Moving quickly, Jodi let go of the ladder with her hands, and pressed the lower sponges firmly into her body. No longer held in place, her body tilted backwards and fell into the water, with a much smaller splash than Patty's.

Jodi's blouse got pulled upward as she sank into the water slightly, but both fabric and sponges held. She began treading water, bringing her head back above the surface.

After a few moments, the sponges were fully soaked, and less prone to float. The Marlene Gambit, named after the first contestant who'd attempted it, had paid off. By allowing the more durable top to take some additional stress, she had ensured both lower sponges remained in place.

Jodi swam cautiously over to the other side, and climbed out. With the panties fully soaked, they were less brittle, and able to handle the heavy sponges. It was an odd sensation, with the sponges attached to her blouse indirectly pulling her breasts down, and the lower sponges tugging at her panties, as if someone was clumsily trying to remove them without alerting her. Jodi could feel the fabric pull away from her pussy, and knew there would be a camera trying to catch a first glimpse at her hidden sex. It probably wouldn't work, but she'd stared at enough of the resulting images to know the appeal.

* * *

Jodi turned her attention to the wringer. True to its name, the wringer was a pair of free-spinning cylinders, mounted horizontally, that she would have to squeeze between. Of course, a proper metal wringer would be impossible to fit through, so these were made of a stiff foam rubber. They would give, but not easily.

The gap was at waist height, so Jodi bent over and began to push herself through, starting with her outstretched arms. The cylinder crushed the sponges to her chest, forcing much of the water out of them. She kept pushing, and just as her hips reached the wringer, her fingertips touched the bar on the other side. Pushing up onto her tiptoes, Jodi was able to grab the bar firmly, and pull herself through.

Honestly, going through the ringer felt kinda good. It was like a poor man's full-body massage, rolling firmly across her. As she pulled her hips into the wringer, the lower sponges were forced between her legs, meaning they lost less water than the upper ones had.

Jodi felt something shift, but before she could react, it was too late. The sponge attached to her right breast had slipped on the now-wet cylinder, and slid free. The ring valiantly tried to call it back, but the shock was too great, and it tore. With a damp splat, the sponge hit the floor.

Jodi swore. Losing a sponge here wasn't unusual, but she'd been paying attention, dammit! If it hadn't been so sudden, she could have grabbed it.

Then again, if it hadn't been so sudden, it probably wouldn't have torn.

Ah, well. Jodi took one hand off the bar to grab the other sponge, and tried to pull herself further. But it just wouldn't work. The angle was too awkward; she would need both hands. Instead, she carefully pulled the sponge forward, so it wouldn't launch itself, and grabbed hold once more.

The rest of the process was fairly uneventful. The lower sponges were pushed together, losing a bit more water and soaking her pussy and ass anew, but with the skirt in place, they weren't able to launch themselves forward.

Standing on the other side, Jodi frowned at the sponge. As easy as it would be to pick it back up, it had hit the floor. According to the rules, it was out of play. With a sigh, she continued on.

* * *

Despite its name, the towel maze wasn't really about towels. The walls were covered with them, of course, but it wasn't like brushing up against one would magically suck a bunch of water out of the sponges. Nor was it really a maze, as there were no wrong turns. No, the real challenge of the towel maze was walking through it. A long corridor would have worked as well, but this way was a lot less dull.

Glancing at the clock on the ceiling, Jodi saw she'd spent almost two minutes in here so far. Like any maze--or, well, labyrinth--there was no telling how soon she'd reach the exit, but she felt she'd covered a good bit of it so far, so perhaps the exit would appear soon.

Her clothes were still quite damp, but Jodi knew that the sponges were definitely the most important part, and she'd already lost one. So as she walked, she had gently held the lower sponges to herself.

It was an odd sensation, to be sure. Not erotic, per se, but holding the sponges to herself definitely focused her mind down there. And, given the setting, water wasn't the only thing making her wet. Between the front sponge shifting as she walked and her own lips sliding against each other... well, maybe it was a bit erotic after all.

Jodie turned another corner, and smiled. She'd been right, there was the exit. It took a surprising amount of willpower to avoid rushing towards it, but she knew better. It didn't matter who got to the finish line first, only who got there with the most water. With over six minutes left, time was not a concern.

* * *

Next up, Blowdryer Bridge. Unlike the towel maze, this one accurately described its challenge. Blowdryer Bridge was a 50-meter rope bridge surrounded by, well, giant blowdryers. In reality, they were large fans and some electric heaters, but they were decorated appropriately, and the net effect was much the same. The fans would turn on and off and change speed unpredictably, causing the bridge to shift. There wasn't really a way to fall off, and the air bag below would make that safe anyway, but the tricky footing could easily cause her to knock off one of her own sponges. And if she took it too slowly, the hot air would dry her out.

The good news was that her hands were empty. That meant she could hold on to the ropes and steady herself a bit. So, taking a deep breath, she stepped on.

Immediately, one of the blowdryers kicked in, buffeting her with a strong blast of hot air. The bridge swung disconcertingly, even this close to the starting point. Part of her wanted to grab at the sponges and protect them, but she knew better. The winds might knock something off, but if she lost her footing, she'd definitely knock off a sponge.

Jodi took up something like a normal walking pace. With each step, she loosened her grip on one rope just enough to slide it forward, then clamp down. Every few seconds, the wind changed, coming at her from a different angle and making the bridge shift. There weren't any fans directly below, obviously, but the ones on either side of the air bag did a pretty good approximation of an updraft, lifting her skirt as if they had a dirty mind. Which, she admitted, probably wasn't too far from the truth.

She managed to sustain her pace fairly well, even as her clothes, sponges, hair, and the bridge were all tossed about. Miraculously, the sponges held, so when she stepped off the bridge after nearly a minute, she still had all three.

Her clothes were, by this point, mostly dry, but she could tell by their weight that the sponges still had a good bit of water in them. She walked over to her basin.

Bending over the basin, she wrung out her remaining upper sponge. Then, straddling it, she wrung out the two lower sponges. Granted, she could have just pulled all of them off, but she'd always been disappointed when someone did that. It was more fun this way.

Of course, just draining the sponges wasn't the end of it. The instruction was to wring out her *clothes*, after all. Fortunately, whatever part of her had been embarrassed before seemed to have given up, at least for now.

Jodi peeled off her top, exposing the lace bra, and wrung the blouse out, extracting only a couple drops, thanks to the blowdryers. Giving the sponge one last wring, just in case, she set it to the side.

She could have done the skirt next, but not with the sponges in the way. So, with an impish grin, she peeled down her panties, carefully holding on to the sponges, and keeping her skirt firmly in place. The panties, similarly, produced fairly little.

Next was the bra, which she unclipped, then held on to. For just a few seconds, she hesitated. Modesty, it seemed, wasn't quite ready to give up. But eventually, she pulled it free, revealing her moderate breasts to the cameras. The corners of her mouth pulled up a little. Embarrassed or not, she knew that a bunch of people were watching through those lenses and enjoying the view. And while she didn't consider herself an exhibitionist, the thought of people appreciating her body had... a certain appeal.

The bra was wrung out, still to little effect, and tossed aside. Jodi moved quickly, in case she lost her nerve, pulling the skirt off in one fell swoop. Feigning more confidence than she felt, she set her feet about a foot and a half apart, then bent nearly in half and attended meticulously to the skirt.

She knew full well what the cameras could see. And, for the most part, she didn't mind. After all, the game had to live up to its name, didn't it?

* * *

Unsurprisingly, Jodi hadn't been the first one to finish. Ellen and Miki had made it out before her. Anne was only a bit behind, with 4:30 on the clock.

Patty, however, was nowhere to be seen. So the four of them stood quietly, waiting, wondering when she would turn up.

The clock ticked down. 4 minutes. 3. 2. 1:30. 1. Finally, with just 35 seconds left, Patty emerged from her maze, still carrying two sponges and with two more attached to her chest. She smiled, then glanced at the clock, and rushed forward.

Jodi watched, breathless. There was no way. 30 seconds, to cross an unsteady bridge, in shifting winds, without losing sponges? Not poss--

Patty ran across the bridge. It shifted from side to side with each step, overpowering whatever motion the winds were trying to apply. Once, twice, three times she almost seemed to lose her balance, but she recovered.

And then she was across. And the clock ticked down: 2, 1, 0.

Jodi realized her mouth was hanging open, and closed it. And then, as if the thought had jumped straight into her mouth without passing through her brain, she asked, "What kept you?"

Patty didn't even look up, she just kept wringing out the sponges and clothes. But she did reply. "I got lost in the maze. Man, that thing was hard."

Jodi froze. She blinked. A few seconds later, she blinked again. And again. Unbidden, her mind presented the image of a dialog box:

jodi.exe is not responding

-> Close the program

-> Wait for the program to respond

Left with no other option, Jodi began to laugh.

It took about a minute for her laughter to finally stop. She wanted to feel bad about it, really she did, but every time she settled down a bit, another aspect of the situation struck her. Patty, the... the idiot who had jumped in and immediately jarred two sponges free. Somehow, she'd managed to navigate the entire course without dropping them or knocking off the ones on her knockers. And after getting lost in a maze with no wrong turns, she'd managed to run across the unstable bridge. And, of course, there was that dialog box that some inner comedian had shown Jodi.

Even after the laughter subsided, Jodi continued to lean on the railing and grin. And, to her relief, Patty was grinning back at her.

Much later, after the recording was over, Jodi would try to apologize and ask Patty why she hadn't been upset. And Patty would respond, "I made you happy, didn't I? Why should that upset me? I know I'm not the sharpest marble in the bag--and yes, that was intentional--but that's just who I am. If it means I can make people laugh without trying to, well, I'm OK with that. Laughter is good; we need more of it."

But for now, the shared smile was enough. Jodi could tell she hadn't hurt Patty. And even though she didn't understand why, she couldn't help but admire Patty for that.

* * *

The big monitor displayed a somewhat cartoonish graph. At the top, it read "Dripping Wet". Along the bottom were the contestants' names: Jodi, Patty, Anne, Miki, and Ellen. And the left side was labelled "Wetness". Right now, the graph was filled to the top with bright blue water, and a plug was in the bottom right corner, its chain dangling loosely.

Albert spoke up. "Okay, I'm sure everyone enjoyed the wringing, but now that our contestants are dressed again, it's time to see how they did!" He gestured to the screen. "Pull the plug!"

A hand appeared and grabbed the chain, and the water began to flow out of the graph.

The first bar to appear was Patty's, with a sponge icon and the number 4.

It seems Patty had been the only one to keep all four sponges, as the next bar was Ellen, with 3. Jodi was right behind her, with her own 3 sponges.

The water dropped further, and the tension rose. Jodi was safe, but she glanced over to Miki and Anne, who both looked nervous.

The water froze as the plug was inserted again. A drumroll played. Finally, the bottom fell off of the graph, revealing the last two.

Miki and Anne, both at two, and very close. A line shot across the graph, and the screen zoomed in to follow it.

The line touched the top of Miki's bar... and missed Anne's.

The studio lights focused on Anne, who smiled sadly. "Darn. I wanted to play another game."

Albert replied, "Well, I can't blame you, but rules are rules. You Bet Your Clit, and you lost. There's just one more thing to see."

The screen zoomed out again, and a second line shot across, from Patty's first-place bar. A ghost of Anne's bar began to tick upwards, and a counter appeared beside it. One day. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. One week. Another day. Two. Three. Four. And the bar reached Patty's line.

"One week, four days!" Albert announced. "Why, some people ignore sex for that long purely by accident." He looked slyly at the camera. "Not me, of course, but some people. Still, this was round one, and Anne did manage a reasonable performance. Remember, in round two, the stakes go up, and the game gets harder. The maximum penalty this round was just 23 days--next round, it will be twice that. Will someone be abstaining for a month and a half, instead of a week and a half? Stay tuned, and we'll find out."

Albert turned back to the contestants. "I'm sure someone explained it before, but this season, we're doing all the injections at the end. Anne will be taken to the Losers' Chairs, where she will be strapped in. She gets to watch the rest of the contest--and be watched by the cameras, of course--but since she won't be able to touch herself, I expect it will be a rather frustrating experience. It's a bonus punishment, of sorts, to make up for the fact that this was the least risky round."

Anne looked to the others. "Good luck, everyone. I'll be watching!" She grinned.

Jodi looked around. Ellen and Miki were no surprise, but Jodi really hadn't expected Patty to make it through. And she nearly didn't, even though she ended up in first.

Jodi smiled to herself. A few seconds was the difference between winning the round and being eliminated with the full penalty. It was surprising, exhilirating, and terrifying, all at once.

I guess that's how it goes when You Bet Your Clit_!_