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Author's note: I'd been wondering if Round 2 was going to be long enough to make a reasonable chapter, since I'd already spun Calibration off as its own piece. Apparently I needn't have worried: it got long enough that I found a good split point in the middle. At a guess, it'll end up being three parts, which is good and bad. On the upside, it means you get more to read. On the other hand, I already know what's coming (or perhaps not cumming) in Round 5. It's going to be a doozy... when we finally get there.

* * *

"Welcome back, ladies. I hear from my camera crew that all four of you got a a demonstration of what the WMDs are capable of. A personal and very thorough demonstration." He grinned at the camera. "Of course, I can't say much more than that. The rest is locked in the VIP archive."

Jodi sighed mentally. Somehow, Albert's suggestive upselling was even more annoying as a contestant than it had been as a viewer. She knew exactly what he was talking about now, but it wasn't like VIP access would show you more of the contestants than the show itself. It had been an incredible orgasm, but everything had been hidden by the belt. This round would be much the same, but the last three rounds would almost certainly be nude, and with orgasms aplenty. Why pay extra to see footage that showed you less than what you got to see later in the episode anyway?

Ah, well. Jodi supposed she should be grateful. After all, the VIP customers probably paid for a good bit of the prize money, and $100,000 was nothing to sneeze at.

"Okay, you've already heard the rules, but before we get started, let's go through an example, just to make sure everyone knows how it goes. The Weapons of Math Distraction will, of course, remain off for now."

He gestured to the screen. Seven numbers appeared: six in black, and one in red, in the middle of a targeting reticle.

"So, your numbers are 100, 7, 5, 8, 3, and 12. The target is 484. I'll give you a minute to try to reach it. Write down how you use the numbers. You've got a scratch pad on the left for trying things out, and your answer goes on the screen to the right."

Jodi frowned at the numbers. 484 was close to 500, so start by multiplying 100 and 5. Subtract 12 from that to get 488. That left 7, 8, and 3. Subtract 8 to get 480, add 7 for 487, and subtract 3 to get 484! She wrote that down on the screen.

"Okay, time's up, let's see how you all did. Ellen has 7-3 for 4, 4*100 for 400, 12*8 for 96, add the 400 to get 496, and subtract 5 to reach 491. Off by 7. 100 points for arriving at a number correctly, minus 10 points times the 7 you missed the target by. That means your answer is worth 30 points.

"Miki has 100*3 for 300, 12+7+3 for 22, 8*22 for 176, add 300 to get 476, and add 8 for 484. Oh, dear. You hit the correct number, and your math is fine, but you used 3 and 8 twice, and didn't use 5 at all. I'm afraid that's no good, you would get no points at all for that."

He ran through Jodi's math. "Yes, indeed, that's 484! That's 100 points for following the rules and doing your math correctly, no penalty for missing the target, and a bonus of 50 points for a perfect answer. 150 points for Jodi!"

"Finally, Patty. 5-3 for 2, 8/2 for 4, 4*100 for 400, 7*12 for 82, and add the 400 to get 482. So close! 7*12 is actually 84, so you could have matched Jodi. But you did your math wrong, so no points for you either.

"Well, well, looks like Jodi is the favorite this round. Of course, that was just a dry run. There's nothing on the scoreboard yet, so it's still anybody's game. And, of course, there wasn't anything to distract them this time. Let's see what happens when we turn on the Weapons of Math Distraction."

If Jodi remembered the show correctly, that final "Weapons of Math Distraction" would have an ominous echo added to it, along with a little "let's get down to business" musical riff. In person, all that happened was the studio lights focusing onto the contestants, and the screen lighting up with a countdown.

3...

2...

1...

27, 52, 4, 7, 9, 10, target 223.

As soon as the numbers appeared, the belt turned on. By the time she'd left the dressing room, the protrusions had shrunk to their original size, and the belt had felt more like a bizarrely heavy pair of panties than a chastity belt, making the walk back quite uneventful. She still had no idea how it managed to flow like fabric, much less how it pulled off any of its other tricks. Still, it was nice that it didn't pinch or restrict movement.

Now, she could feel the dildos beginning to reinflate. They were going faster than before, but it would still be a bit before they reached full size. Jodi tried to focus on the problem.

She jotted down 27*9 on the scratch pad, and after a few seconds, came up with 243. A bit too high, but she still had 4 numbers left.

The dildos were almost to her limit now, and Jodi shifted her feet. She needed to get 20 out of 52, 4, 7, and 10. Well, 52/4 got 13, plus 7 for 20, but that left 10 unused. 52-4*10+7 made 19, so she could definitely get one away. She jotted that down in a corner of the scratch pad in case she didn't find anything better.

The two dildos began to throb. They seemed to be synchronized at first, but after a few seconds, Jodi could tell that the rear one was going slightly faster. In a little bit, they would be directly opposite each other. She shook her head. Not important.

4+7+10 made 21, but combining that with 52 wouldn't help. 4*7? 28. 52-28 was 24, but that and 10 didn't work either. 4*10 was 40, but she'd looked at that already. 4+7 was 11, *10 for 110, but no use there. 7-4 for 3, *10 to get 30, 52-30 makes 22. No good, she already got 19.

A tongue licked at her lower lips. Wet and warm, soft but slightly rough. It felt nice, but Jodi tried to ignore it.

52*4 was 208. 25 away, with 27, 7, 9, and 10 left. Well, 25 was almost 27, so if she could get 2 out of the other three... But, no, that didn't seem likely. 10-7 would give 3, and 9/3 to keep 3, but that'd leave her off by one again.

Someone was blowing warm air against Jodi's clit. In spite of herself, she looked down for a moment, seeing nobody hiding between her and the podium. The belt again, of course. Jodi was starting to get pretty wet. She thought about copying her answer over. If the belt went into high gear, she doubted she'd be able to do that much, let alone continue looking for the answer. But no, there were still 3 minutes on the clock. Plenty of time to keep going, and the device seemed content to toy with her so far.

52-27 for 25, *9 for 225. Off by just 2, with 4, 7, 9, and 10, left... But, wait, that works, doesn't it? 7-4 is 3, 10-9 is 1, 3-2 is 1.

The tongue was lapping at her clit now, and the dildo in her pussy had started vibrating. Jodi double-checked her math.

52-27=25, 25*9 is 225, ah, but she'd used 9 twice! At 225, she only had three numbers left: 4, 7, and 10. Gah. None of them divided, even if she multiplied two together. And the best she could get by adding was 1. No dice.

Jodi needed to hurry. The vibration was getting stronger, and even if nothing else changed, she'd be reaching her peak soon. Certainly before the last two minutes ran out.

52+27=79, 7-4=3, 79*3=237. She double-checked what was left this time. 9 and 10, nothing else. But that was no good. Nor was her left hand, which had creeped between her legs while she wasn't paying attention to it. A minute and a half left on the clock. Maybe time for one more try?

52+27=79, *4=316, with 9, 10, and 7 left. Subtract 90 to get 226, and no luck there.

Jodi squeezed down on the dildo, and shook her head. A minute left on the clock. She'd better copy the answer over while she still could.

She double-checked the math. 27*9-52+4*10-7=224. She closed her eyes for a moment, breathing heavily. Damn, that felt good.

She copied it over, feeling her orgasm start to build. She gave the writing one last check, then hit the submit button, and gave herself over to the device.

It stopped. Perfect. She glanced at the others. Ellen and Miki were looking past her, towards Patty, evidently having submitted their own answers already. Patty moaned, drawing Jodi's attention. She was bent over her podium, eyes closed. Her hands gripped the edge tightly, and Jodi watched with a mixture of envy and pity as Patty's hips tried to knock the podium over. She was obviously having an amazing orgasm, but that also meant she hadn't submitted an answer. And time was running down.

Jodi's hand rubbed futilely at the front of the belt. She was still quite close to having an orgasm, but with no way to push herself over, and her pussy throbbed needily. Watching Patty, Jodi couldn't help but remember the orgasm the belt had given her only a little while ago. She'd had time to cool down from it, but now the belt had brought her right up to the edge again, and all she could do was watch Patty experience what she couldn't have.

Finally, the timer ended, a buzzer sounded, and Patty's orgasm slowed. Jodi reflected on what she knew of the game while Albert waited for Patty's attention.

Weapons of Math Distraction was actually two games in one. The obvious game, the one that they'd been given the rules for, was to use math and reach the target. The other game was a gambling game. The WMDs had a bunch of settings they could use. All four players got the same setting, but it was randomized between puzzles.

As the calibration had demonstrated, the belt was more than capable of incapacitating its wearer whenever it chose, for as long as it chose. But if it jumped straight there, there wouldn't be a game. It always let them have some time at the start to work on the problem, albeit with various amounts of distraction. After that, it depended on the setting and the player's response.

This time, the setting had been to gradually ramp up stimulation, to incapacitate them if they reached orgasm, but to shut off once they submitted their answer. Next time, submitting might put it into overdrive. Or it might hold them on the razor edge of orgasm, but not let them across, whether they hit the button or not. Or it might go fast and drive them to orgasm repeatedly, but with some downtime to work on the problem between orgasms.

To play the hidden game well, you had to weigh the current scores against the quality of your answer, and your physical state against what the WMDs might be set to do. If it went well, you could win the round while thoroughly enjoying yourself. If it went badly, you could be delivered to the loser's couch needy and with a long period of denial in your future.

Jodi's eyes narrowed. She wanted to win both games.

* * *

Albert went over their answers carefully, but the exact math everybody had used didn't interest Jodi, so she just tuned most of it out and watched the scoreboard instead. Patty got no points, of course, but neither did Ellen. Math error, apparently. Mika, on the other hand, had picked up 150 points for a perfect answer. Jodi's own 90 put her in second, but she knew better than to celebrate. With four puzzles to go, even Mika's 150 point lead wasn't a sure thing.

Jodi's hand still rubbed lightly against the front of her WMD. She had been so close to giving in and sharing Patty's fate, and her clit was still throbbing desperately, refusing to cool down. It didn't help that edging and denial were two of her favorite kinks. She might have been able to stop herself at the same point the belt did, but the experience itself was so hot, she would have gone for an orgasm by now, and her body knew it. Which just made it that much more intense, a self-reinforcing loop of arousal and denial.

She looked over the competition. Patty looked disheveled, distracted, and content, but from the outside, both Ellen and Mika appeared stoic. A slight sheen of sweat was the only thing to show they'd done more than solve a math problem. If either was as close as Jodi, they weren't showing it.

But was that an advantage, or a disadvantage? No way to tell. Still, she was 90 points up, so she could afford a small gamble.

Jodi looked at the clock. The time between puzzles was timed, too. Five minutes, same as the puzzle duration. As soon as one ended, the other began. It had taken thirty seconds for Patty to recover enough to pay attention, and another minute and a half to go over the scores. That left three minutes of break time.

Closing her eyes, Jodi leaned on the podium and focused. To the others, it probably appeared that she was meditating, praying, or simply concentrating on anything she could to let her body cool down. But Jodi didn't want to cool down. Instead, she focused on her pussy, how it throbbed expectantly. Her clit, as stiff as can be and eager to fire, but trapped in a metal prison. The belt itself, capable of so much pleasure, or of blocking any pleasure at all.

She thought about the show, and the consequences of failure here. The hypodermic needle, normally so small. When they did the injection, the screen split into several views, one of them zoomed in so far that an inch-long needle looked like a giant metal spear.

Last season, the setup had been particularly evil. Jodi could see it now, the loser bound spread-eagled, metal bands holding them perfectly still. A dildo covered in little metal bumps to detect the electrical pulses of nerves firing. And a silver ovoid, two inches long, mounted just across the top of the clitoris.

The vibrator would send the unfortunate girl up to the stratosphere, until the dildo sensed an impending climax. Then it would stop, and let her cool down. Then up again, and down again. On the third cycle, they rolled a die out of the loser's sight. 1 or 2, and the cycle repeated, triggering another roll. 3, 4, 5, or 6, and the needle activated at the top of the cycle. It took about 30 seconds for the anesthetic to kick in, and the machine's response varied.

On a roll of 6, it played nice. As soon as the needle pulled back, the vibrator kicked back in, building the contestant up and giving them a fitting send-off before their denial set in.

A 3 was still somewhat kind. The vibrator just sat there, inactive, as they cooled down from the edge and the anesthetic kicked in.

At 4, it toyed with them. The vibrator build them up, just like a 6, but about 20 seconds in, right when it would have put on an extra burst of speed to deliver an orgasm, it slowed down instead, keeping them right on the razor's edge. Then, right as the anesthetic began to kick in, it ramped up. The last thing the loser got to feel was their clit trying desperately to reach one last orgasm before it fell asleep. Even the people with only a few hours of penalty hated that.

But 5, oh, that was a topic of hot debate. Some people said it was just 6 or 4 in disguise. Others, Jodi included, thought it was the cruelest and hottest of them all.

When the die landed on 5, the poor young lady would feel the injection, and know shortly after that it wasn't a 3. But 4, 5, and 6 all shared the same buildup, so she wouldn't be able to tell which it was. If she kept careful track of time, she might be able to rule out 6, but it seemed most people couldn't focus well enough for that. So, at the last moment, there was a split point. If the roll was 4, she would go numb before she got her orgasm. If it was 6, her orgasm would roll over her in full glory.

But if it was 5, she would feel herself reach the point of no return, and then the vibrator would die completely. She would slide slowly, inevitably down the opposite side of the knife edge, orgasm a foregone conclusion. And in those few seconds, between the orgasm being triggered and actually beginning, the anesthetic kicked in.

The show's creators were artists. They had engineered their drug and its delivery to perfection, ensuring that it penetrated the clitoris completely, but exclusively. The loser would feel everything. Every rippling contraction, every detail of the dildo as her muscles rhythmically squeezed it. Everything, that is, except the pleasure. The orgasm would pass with no more satisfaction than a spasming hand. And then the adrenaline crash would hit. Her body--forced into high gear and manipulated into starting a process it couldn't complete--would be left high and dry, with no endorphins to counterbalance the rush of stimulants it had produced.

Before she had found You Bet Your Clit, ruined orgasms had been Jodi's favorite thing. There was just something about seeing those cocks twitch and leak, pushed over the edge but left to flounder. She loved the idea that someone had been prepared to receive the ultimate pleasure, but that it had been spoiled for her pleasure. It was like some ancient sacrifice to appease the gods, but with her as the god.

Yet, by Jodi's thinking, it was still flawed. The orgasm was incomplete, but the men still got some pleasure and satisfaction out of it. It drained their prostate, reduced their need to cum. It was more spectacular than edging and denial, but less severe. And who knew what happened after the video? For all she knew, they could simply jerk off again as soon as the camera was off, and complete what they had started.

The number 5 result, on the other hand, fixed it all. Apart from the minor quibble of not involving a cock, it did everything right. The orgasm was there, but stunted, blocked from accomplishing anything. Without a prostate to drain, the loser was left exactly as desperate as they had been before. Some of them had gone so far as to call it an "anti-orgasm", the abortive process leaving them tense, needy, and feeling awful. And the anesthetic ensured that they couldn't just try again and get what they needed. Even a Short game had a minimum penalty of two hours.

Jodi could see it replaying on the inside of her eyelids. The buildup, the uncertainty, and the four outcomes. She had clips stored of all the number 5's she'd seen. Two years, at just under one a week. Almost a hundred failed orgasms, the final and most potent tool in her arsenal when her own orgasm proved hard to reach. Oh, yes, if she could, that's exactly what she would be watching right now.

A loud buzzer jolted Jodi out of her concentration, and she opened her eyes. Seven numbers had appeared.