Babe or Billionaire - Chapter 4

“Voting’s over, ladies and gentlemen!” Jacob shouted. “Let’s see the results! Starting with little Kimmy this time, the winning penalty is… Stuck In Training!”

Kimberly hadn’t stopped crying since the options were announced, but now her sobbing seemed to double in intensity. The crowd roared its approval.

“There, there, Kimmy,” Jacob cooed. “It’s not so bad. It just means you’re going to need a bit of help going potty from now on. More specifically, you’re going to find that your bladder and bowel control is roughly equivalent to that of a three-year-old in the middle of her toilet training, meaning that pull-ups are going to become a necessity. And more than that, you’ll find yourself totally unable to use a toilet without a grown-up to take you, to hold your hand while you do your business, and wipe your clean afterwards. I hope you have someone special in mind!”

Kimberly wailed, imagining having to toddle up to her boyfriend with her hands pressed between her legs, hopping from foot to foot and begging him to help her tinkle. She could feel a funny tingling in her head and her nether regions as the changes took effect. Then, all of a sudden, she felt her panties beginning to thicken beneath her overalls – she couldn’t see them, but she could tell by the bulk that her adult underwear had just turned into a pair of thick, puffy training pants.

“And moving on to baby Isabelle in her pretty bonnet, the winning penalty is… Totally Incontinent! Congratulations, Isabelle! You’re going to be diaper-dependent!”

“No!” Isabelle screamed, while the audience cheered loudly. She clutched at her bonnet-clad head in panic as she felt a tingling inside her skull, the nanomachines working to erase all her knowledge of how to go to the bathroom like a grown-up. Then she felt the tingling in her lower parts, and the thickening of her underwear, and with a girlish shriek of terror she bolted away from the podium, trying to make a run for it.

Jacob and the audience merely laughed as the two stage-hands from earlier caught her under the arms and dragged her back onto the stage, kicking and screaming.

“That’s not going to work, silly girl,” Jacob chuckled. “The nanomachines are inside you! They won’t stop working just because you run away! And I can assure you that the effects are quite permanent – unless of course you win tonight’s game and choose your incontinence as one of the penalties you want to reverse. So staying here and competing is the only way you’re not guaranteed to spend the rest of your life in stinky diapers, sweetie.”

Isabelle burst into tears, looking just as pathetic as Kimberly, but she knew Jacob was right. She could feel her panties, or what had once been her panties, bulging between her thighs, thick and crinkly, ready to contain all her babyish messes. She was wearing a nappy! And no sooner had she been dragged back to stand in front of her podium, Isabelle felt her bladder let go. She knew she ought to keep quiet, to not alert anyone else to what was happening, but as the stream of warm pee-pee gushed into her pants and soaked into her new padded underwear, she couldn’t help herself.

“Ewww!” she whined, hiccupping between her breaths and hopping awkwardly on the spot as if she was trying to jump away from the icky, wet feeling between her legs. “Ew! Ew! EW! Make it stop! Please! I don’t wanna be incontinent! I don’t wanna wear diapers! EWWW!”

“Awww,” Jacob cooed. “Does little Isabelle have a soggy nappy? This is just part of your life now, sweetie. Unless you win the game you’ll just have to get used to it.” He walked up to the crying model and yanked up her dress, exposing the droopy diaper hanging between her thighs. He squeezed the front. “You sure did lots of pee-pee, baby!” he said happily. “But I think you can wait a little while longer for a change.” He turned back to the audience, grinning gleefully. “Just to remind everyone, the scores are as follows!” he called out, gesturing to the giant screen that was displaying their points:

Isabelle – 1

Kimberly – 0

Eily – 2

“And a quick refresher on the rules: the lady with the most points at the end of the game – that’s after all nine rounds – will win our fabulous cash prize, and get the opportunity to remove three of her penalties!”

Kimberly couldn’t stop sniffling pathetically. She’d lost all three of the rounds so far – now if she wanted to get out of this without any permanent changes, she’d have to win every single round that followed!

“Eily,” Jacob said suddenly, turning to the third woman on the stage, “although you’ve had a bit of a downgrade in the outfit department, you’re doing pretty well! How do you feel about Kimmy and Isabelle’s penalties?”

The truth was that Eily felt nothing but relief at not having ended up in nappies herself, but she knew she ought to press her advantage while the other girls were too busy crying like babies.

“I think they’re perfect,” she said, and she realised that she wasn’t even lying. “I think ending up in diapers for the rest of her life is exactly what someone as arrogant as Isabelle needs. She’s going to find it pretty hard to strut her stuff in a skimpy bikini now she’s not even potty trained, not to mention how ridiculous her bib and bonnet make her look.” Eily felt herself redden slightly as she thought about how absurd it was for her to be criticising another woman’s outfit when she herself was dressed up like a ditzy bimbo in a schoolgirl outfit, but she quickly pressed on. “And I told everyone before not to fall for Kimberly’s innocent act – she’s a college slut who’d steal your boyfriend in a second, and all the ladies out there should be relieved she’ll be too busy begging people to take her to the toilet to be thinking about seducing anyone.”

Kimberly and Isabelle shot her looks of fury through their tears, but Eily ignored them. She didn’t need them on her side. It was the audience she had to work on, and they were cheering and laughing along in agreement.

Jacob laughed as well, apparently delighted by her nastiness. “Well, thank you for your comments, Eily! But if you ask me, you’re just pleased Kimberly and Isabelle are off the playing field so all the fucking and sucking will be left for you – why else would you dress like such a whore?” He smirked at her, and Eily gritted her teeth in anger. That bastard!

“But we’ve spent too much time talking! It’s time to move onto the fourth round. The theme this time is… Voice! So let’s see who’ll be learning to talk in a whole new way, shall we? Girls, you know what to do.”

The screens on their podiums light up, and Isabelle, Kimberly, and Eily made their choices. There were a few seconds of tense silence, and then the symbol’s they’d selected appeared on the front of their podiums for everyone to see. All three women felt their stomachs drop. Isabelle had chosen paper, Kimberly had chosen rock, and Eily had chosen scissors.

“Ooh, sorry girls,” Jacob said, not looking sorry at all, “but that means it’s another triple loss!” The crowd roared with pleasure. “Let’s see what penalties we’ve got in store for the three of you this time, shall we? Starting with Eily, the penalties for everyone’s favourite sexy schoolgirl are… Sweet and Innocent! Or Dirty Talk!”

Eily cringed. It was bad enough that she was dressed up as a slutty schoolgirl – would she have to talk like one as well? It seemed like her choices were to speak with the ridiculous voice of a chaste little girl, to contrast her skanky outfit, or to lean into the theme even more and end up sounding like sound sex-crazed fucktoy. She felt sick to her stomach at the thought of either. What was the point of getting the audience on side if all her options were going to be terrible?!

“And for our resident diaper-dependent baby-woman,” Jacob continued, “the choices are… Childish Vocabulary! Or Baby Babble!”

Isabelle felt her heart sink even further. The game was trying to turn her into some kind of babyish freak!

“And for the cutest adult toddler on stage,” Jacob went on, flashing a wink at Kimberly, “the options are… Cute Lisp! Or Always Rhyming!”

Kimberly’s kip trembled, but she supposed the options weren’t as bad as what the other two had. Still, she couldn’t decide which was worse. Always Rhyming sounded like she’d be forced to speak in stupid rhymes whenever she spoke! The very idea of it made her face redden. But was talking with a dumb, babyish lisp really any better?

“Cast your votes everyone!” Jacob called, “Let’s see just how adorable we can make our three little ladies!”