The neon lights flashed, the APPLAUSE sign flickered into a blinding frenzy, and the iconic NuttUp theme song blasted through the studio speakers with enough bass to rattle my ribs.

A deep, velvet-smooth baritone voice echoed over the PA system: “Live from Television City… welcome to the NuttUp Game Show! And here is your host—the ultimate ruler of the buzzer, the one, the only—Mistress Alex Tre-Spank!“

The studio audience hit a fever pitch of screams and applause as Alex Tre-Spank strutted onto the stage, cool, commanding, and looking like she held the key to everyone’s deepest desires.

“Thank you, thank you!” she beamed, waving to the crowd before pivoting to the stage lights. “Let’s meet tonight’s brave contestants.”

There I stood behind my podium, gripping the edges, a giant red buzzer staring up at me. Fixed to the front of the console was my name, Pute, hastily scribbled in my own shaky handwriting.

“Pute,” Alex Tre-Spank began, leaning over her lectern. “Where are you joining us from tonight?”

“Pleasure Valley, USA!” I called out into the microphone.

“And what do you do there in Pleasure Valley?”

“I’m an owned submissive,” I said proudly, receiving a chorus of supportive whoops from the front row.

“Welcome to NuttUp! Our second contestant hails all the way from Pekker Peak. Dick, what keeps you up over there?”

“Oh, lots of fun things, Alex!” Dick chimed in with a wide grin. “I’m a volunteer sub!”

“Exquisite,” Alex Tre-Spank purred. “And our third contestant is a Patreon subscriber coming to us directly from Long Johnson Sub-urbia! How are you?” “Alex, I love my subscription and reading all the useful articles!”. “Wonderful!”

With the introductions wrapped, the studio lights dimmed to a high-stakes violet hue.

“Alright, contestants, you know the rules,” Alex announced. “We start off with a toss-up question. Whoever buzzes in with the correct answer gets to step right up and take a spin on the legendary NuttUp Wheel!”

The APPLAUSE sign flashed wildly. The crowd went nuts.

“First question,” Alex began, pacing the stage. “What is the premier sub school for learning how to be a top-tier submissive?”

Before my brain could even process the prompt, my hand slammed down on the big red button.

BZZZZZZZZT!

“Yes, Pute!” Alex Tre-Spank called out, turning to my podium.

“FemdomU Academy!” I blurted, my heart pounding in my throat.

Alex dropped her gaze, carefully checking her index card. An agonizing second passed… and then a broad smile spread across her face. “That is CORRECT!”

The crowd went completely wild.

“Pute, COME ON DOWN!” the baritone announcer boomed.

Overjoyed, I rounded my podium and broke into a full Ed Grimley hyperactive shuffle dance, high-fiving imaginary fans all the way to center stage.

“Oh, I’m so excited!” I gasped, staring up at the gargantuan wheel gleaming under the spotlights. “Though… I’m not usually known for my upper-body strength.”

“Give it all you’ve got, Pute!” Alex cheered.

I grabbed a peg, hauled back, and threw my entire body weight into the spin. The wheel roared to life—a dizzying blur of red, gold, and leather, the heavy clapper clicking rapidly: clack-clack-clack-clack-clack. The theme music swelled. The audience clapped in rhythmic suspense as the wheel began to lose momentum… slowly… slowly… past the punishment slots… past the reset buttons… until the ticker gave one final heavy THUD into a crimson wedge marked: Levi & Duckie’s Challenge #1.

“Oh boy, oh boy!” I whispered to myself, grinning ear to ear. “Jackpot!”

“Let’s see what Levi and Duckie have in store for you tonight,” Alex Tre-Spank teased, pulling a pristine gold envelope from her jacket. She broke the seal and read aloud:

“Congratulations! You’ve been selected for an official equipment reliability test, administered by two individuals with absolutely no qualifications. Today’s assignment: one orgasm, followed by a ridiculous three-line technical support report. Include a fictional product name, a customer satisfaction rating, and whether the equipment requires further maintenance. Try not to void the warranty.”

In moments like these, one does not test providence. One does not hesitate.

Without missing a beat, I leaned straight into the host’s microphone: “What is… The Bio-Hydraulic Thruster Mark VII?!”

Alex Tre-Spank squinted at the card, double-checked the fine print, and slapped her thigh. “That is ABSOLUTELY CORRECT!”

The baritone announcer’s voice boomed over the speakers once more: “Let’s see what Pute has won today!”

Spotlights swung toward the grand prize stage as the velvet curtains parted. A stunning, Vanna White-esque model glided out, using elegant hand flourishes to reveal a glittering showcase.

“You’ve won the official Bio-Hydraulic Thruster Mark VII Maintenance Kit—rated #1 by Wanker’s Magazine! This deluxe package features a custom blend of Bio-Hydraulic daily vitamins formulated to replenish that precious core fluid, AND the official Thruster Troubleshooting & Maintenance Guide (for when you’ve barked the dog one too many times),. But Wait, there’s more. You also get direct access to the Domme Nurse Jessica 24/7 Hotline!”

The crowd burst into thunderous applause as the curtains slowly rolled closed.

“That brings your five day total to 7 orgasms!” Alex blurted out. “We’ll see again when we play NuttUp!”

“All of today’s contestants will also take home a copy of the Wanker’s Greatest Hits compilation album!” the announcer continued. “Featuring all-time classics like ‘Spank My Dog Tonight’, the mega-hit ‘That’s Not Hair Gel, Baby’, and “All by Myself (And Loving Every Inch of it)”….who could forget “Friction in the First Degree”

BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZT!

A sharp, continuous buzz echoed through the air—loud, grating, and rhythmic.

The studio lights began to bleed into the warm morning sun filtering through my bedroom blinds. The roaring crowd dissolved into the soft rustle of bedsheets.

I blinked my eyes open.

Standing over me with a gentle, wicked smile was Mistress, holding her phone as the morning alarm finally quieted down.

“Time to wakie-wakie,” Mistress said softly, nudging my shoulder. “And take your first spin at the wheel…”