As Alex walked toward the starting line, he glanced at the crowd surrounding the arena. They were cheering wildly, waiting for him to trip, slip, or amuse them with another humiliating stumble. It still amazed him how enthusiastic they always were. He hated it—the fact that people actually supported these horrible games.
But then again... maybe they didn't even know. For all the audience knew, he and the other boys might just be actors or athletes performing a flashy show. Not prisoners. Not victims.
He reached the line, forcing himself to push the thoughts away. No time to think about the crowd anymore. If he wanted to feel safe, he needed to make it at least halfway down the runway. One deep breath, one last glance at the obstacles ahead, and he calculated a path in his mind.
The screen lit up.
Go!
Alex sprinted forward. After all, if everyone reached the finish line, it would come down to speed—and he wanted to set a good time.
The first obstacle came quickly: a giant spinning tube of lip gloss, level with his chest. He ducked and slid under it with ease. The next was at knee height—he jumped cleanly over. Splashes of pink liquid stained the runway, trails left behind by earlier obstacles. He dodged them as though they were poison.
So far, so good.
But the further he went, the harder it became. Ahead, two lip gloss sticks spun at different heights but close enough to block the path together. Timing was everything. Alex waited, then darted through in the tiny gap. A clean escape.
He was already a third of the way. Not bad.
The next obstacle loomed ahead—too high to jump over. He dropped down and went for a slide.
But the floor was slick with pink liquid.
The slide carried him much further than planned, right off the edge of the runway. He fell straight into a pool of sticky shower gel below.
The crowd roared as Alex resurfaced, dripping with glittery pink showergell. Just short of the halfway mark.
Soaked, Alex trudged over to the waiting platform, glitter sticking everywhere. He watched as the others took their turns. Most made it further than him—they had been more careful about sliding and more aware of the stains on the runway.
Chris was unlucky—shoved clean off by a sudden spinning tube. Jorn struggled even worse: his foot stuck fast to a stain that turned out to be glue-like. He struggled too long, and a swinging lipstick smacked him right off the platform.
By the end of the round, Alex knew his place: sixth.
That meant his punishment would be harsher than blush or hand cream.
Later, in the bathroom, Ember had already prepared a bath for him. She smiled warmly as she sponged away the sticky gel clinging to his skin.
"You did so well out there. What happened?" she asked gently.
"I didn't expect the liquid to be that slippery," Alex muttered, picking one of the bath bombs Ember had laid out. He dropped it into the water and sighed as it fizzed into clouds of glittery color. "I should've been more careful. But honestly, I'm just glad I wasn't last."
"I'm glad too," Ember said softly, though her brow furrowed with worry. "But I'm afraid of what your punishment will be this time."
She squeezed a familiar pink shampoo bottle. "Dream Lengths," it read. She had used it almost every time, and it was starting to work—Alex's hair really had grown since he'd been here.
"So am I," Alex admitted with a sigh, stepping into the bath. The water swirled around him in a storm of color and sparkle.
The bath should have been relaxing. If it weren't for the overwhelming girly scents and glitter, it could have been perfect—especially with Ember beside him to talk to.
Eventually, the dreaded screen lit up with the results. His placement was already known, but now his punishment appeared.
Lipbag.
Alex frowned. He had an idea of what it might mean, but surely a sixth-place punishment would be harsher than just carrying around lip gloss.
He climbed out of the bath and Ember handed him a scented pink towel. After drying off, he slipped into the delicate red lace underwear laid out for him. The silky fabric reminded him how long it had been since he'd worn anything resembling normal boxers.
Together, they left the bathroom. But they didn't make it far.
"Alex!"
Stacey and Jade appeared, smiling like cats who'd cornered a mouse. Before he could react, they each took an arm and steered him toward the salon.
"Well, Alex," Stacey said sweetly, "what a wonderful surprise—you placed sixth."
"Such a great opportunity for us," Jade added with a sly grin.
In the salon, three bags were waiting on the table in front of his chair: two pink, one glittering, and one larger nude-colored one.
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"Choose whichever suits you best, Alexis," Stacey teased, deliberately using the feminized version of his name.
Normally, Alex would have grabbed the least girly option right away. But something in him hesitated. "Does it matter which I choose?" he asked carefully.
"Of course it matters," Stacey said with a smile that gave nothing away. "But you'll only find out after you choose."
Alex studied the bags. He thought about the name of the punishment—"lipbag." Clearly, the bag was part of it. But the "lip" part... lipstick? Lip gloss?
If the big nude-colored one meant more things inside, it could be a heavier punishment. But if the smaller, glittery bag meant the most girly items, that could be even worse.
With a deep breath, Alex pointed to the middle-sized pink bag.
Jade and Stacey exchanged a glance. Their expressions weren't thrilled, but they weren't disappointed either.
"Great choice," Jade said.
"Now," Stacey grinned, picking up the bag, "we need to see how well it fits you. Luckily, you left your outfit of the day here. Dress up and show off your handbag for us."
Alex's smile immediately faded. Show it off? Seriously?
But he had no choice. He pulled on his tube top and high-waisted jeans, then slung the pink bag over his shoulder.
"Ohhh, that looks fantastic on you," Stacey laughed.
"Now the best part," Jade said eagerly, leaning forward. "Open it up!"
