TJ collapse on the sofa, sending up a cloud of dust. He hadn’t believed in the “haunted” part of this haunted house challenge until the resident spirit possessed him, had puppeteered his body around the deserted mansion, and then started making… alterations. It caused his body to shrink down, bulge out, pinch in, grow in weird ways, and then the spirit spun him around and showed him a reflection that wasn’t his. Finally it seemed to release its control over him after distorting his flesh into an oddly specific form, leaving him to freak out in the silent stillness of the empty dwelling.

And that was only the first of three nights. If he wanted that one hundred million dollars, he’d have to last two more and walk out on the dawn of the fourth day! Exhausted and mentally battered after his ordeal, he didn’t last long before nodding off.

When he woke again, he was in a room full of clothing. Women’s clothing. And it was drifting in the air above and around him like a carousel. The unseen spirit returned with the hollow echo of derisive laughter, coming as much from between as from outside of his ear… such as they were! Predictably, his body was once more seized by the carousing phantom, and TJ was made to endure a humiliating game of dress-up that lasted for hours as costume after costume, in every absurd combination, was inflicted upon him. He didn’t know how long it went on, but he was powerless to resist or even to object as the disembodied spirit made him its plaything once.

Just as suddenly as it had begun, the game ended and TJ was dropped unceremoniously back onto the sofa, somewhat less dusty this time, in the last outfit to be placed upon him. At least it wasn’t a dress… not exactly. But the miniskirt was barely decent, and wouldn’t have been if he’d still been supplied with his factory equipment. He was starting to think the fortune wasn’t worth this, and imagined any way he could escape with his dignity intact as he once again succumbed to exhaustion.

TJ’s eyes opened, but nothing else moved. His body, if he could even call it that anymore, was paralyzed… but not numb. In fact, in a way that was hard to describe, he felt everything between his ankles and his waist sort of filling. From someplace indescribable, he could feel matter surging into his lower body like water running into a balloon. The skirt, already far from modest, was slipping up higher and higher as his thighs thickened and his rear end bloated and swelled, leaving more and more flesh projecting out into the open air.

“It’s going to be another long night,” he sighed as his body started sinking further and further into the sofa cushions.