Babe or Billionaire - Chapter 12

Kimberly’s Fate

“Ready to watch your potty video, Kimmy?” Daddy asked, smirking. “Maybe you’ll even learn something from it, huh?”

“Yeth, Daddy,” Kimberly lisped, blushing furiously as she stared expectantly at the dark television screen in their living room. She knew the truth. She wouldn’t learn anything. Because of Jacob and the game master and that whole awful show, she was stuck in potty training permanently, frozen at the stage of a struggling toddler who couldn’t quite master using the bathroom like a big girl. Any attempts to improve were as doomed as her attempts at relearning to read. She glanced at the picture books scattered on the table by the sofa. Daddy liked to nestle her in the crook of his arm and read them to her. They were a big step down from the novels she’d once enjoyed, or even the legal documents she’d studied so hard. She’d bawled like a baby when she was made to drop out of university, but an overgrown toddler who couldn’t read or even make it to the toilet without her boyfriend’s help had no place at college, even if she had once been the top student in the class.

At least she got to stay with Paul at all hours of the day. That was a blessing considering her dependence on him. He’d had to drop her off with his parents once while he went away, and she’d spent the whole time sobbing and wailing for him to come back, and after that he’d resolved to make sure he was always around to take care of her. He worked from home, so she spent most of her time sitting at his feet, or if she’d been good, snuggled up in his lap. Sometimes, if she’d been on her very best behaviour, she could wiggle her bottom and feel him get hard beneath her. Then he might tug off her pull-ups and slip himself inside her, and until her nappy pants went back on, she could bounce up and down on his dick and pretend she’d never been on that stupid game show. But sex was almost always followed by a potty emergency that brought her rudely back to reality.

Kimberly turned her attention back to the screen as Daddy inserted the DVD, and a moment later the television came to life. A title appeared in bouncing pink letters. Learn To Go Potty With Big Kid Kimmy! Kimberly’s face went scarlet, and she nearly fainted when she saw herself appear on the screen, pouting and scowling, with a heavy, clearly-used nappy sagging between her legs. The only other thing she wore was a navy blue pinafore dress, the hem of which didn’t even come close to the bottom of her thoroughly soiled, sopping wet diaper.

“Oh God…” she whispered. Was that what she looked like?

“Nappieth are YUCK!” the Kimberly on the screen lisped emphatically, crossing her arms and stomping her foot in an exaggerated way. “They’re tho yucky and thmelly! There mutht be something better!”

“There is!” came a honeyed, female voice from nowhere. “You should try pull-ups, Kimmy! Pull-ups protect like nappies, but you can pull them up and down like grown-up underwear, and that means you can start potty training!”

“Potty training?” Kimberly asked, cocking her head in confusion. “What’th that?”

“Potty training is when you learn to go pee-pee and poo-poo in the potty instead of your pants, just like grown-ups do!”

“That thoundth really hard,” said Kimberly, putting on a face of apprehension.

The Kimberly in real life cringed with embarrassment. She’d endured a lot of spankings to get her to behave on set, but she’d still been determined to give a terrible performance, something impossible for them to make a program out of. But then Daddy had promised to make her wear nappies for a whole year unless she gave it her all, and she’d given in. Seeing the results now though, she almost regretted her decision. How could she have let herself be reduced to this?!

“Don’t worry, Kimmy! I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it!” said the female voice encouragingly. “Let’s give it a try!”

With a wave of sparkles, the scene changed, and now Kimberly was standing in a clean pair of pull-ups, the camera zoomed in on the flower designs on her padded crotch. The program had at least not shown the humiliating dirty diaper change she’d endured on set, surrounded by the cooing backstage staff.

“Wow!” said the Kimberly on screen, looking down at her undies. “I feel so grown-up!”

“Just remember, Kimmy, pull-ups won’t hold as much as your nappy did, so you’ve got to go to use the potty when you feel the urge!”

Kimberly nodded eagerly, then she gasped and clutched suddenly between her legs. This was no act, Kimberly knew, dizzy with shame as she watched the program. Daddy and the director had timed the moment so that she really did need to pee.

“Uh-oh!” cried her on-screen counterpart. “I’ve gotta go potty!”

Then the music started, and she felt Daddy’s hand on her bottom. “You sing along too, sweetheart,” Paul instructed. He leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Unless you want Daddy to get the nappies out…”

Kimberly felt tears welling up in her eyes, but she did as she was told. As the Kimberly on the program broke into song, she joined in. “When your kneeth bend in and you’re wiggling all about, don’t take a chanthe! It means you’re doing the potty danthe!”

With a smack on her behind from Daddy to encourage her, Kimberly started copying the dance moves too, which were really little more than the movements of a ridiculous, over-the-top potty dance. She pressed her hands between her legs and jumped ludicrously from foot to foot, shaking her bottom from side to side and singing all the while. She thought she might had died from the humiliation if she’d had to see Daddy watching her while she danced, but keeping her eyes fixed on the screen was hardly better.

At last the song was over. “When you’re bounthing on your toeth and you’re doing a little pranthe, that’th what we call the potty danthe!” But as the music died, things ended poorly for the Kimberly on screen. The camera did a close-up of her crotch just as her bladder gave in, and the dark patch spread up her pull-ups, making her flowers disappear.

“Oh dear!” said the woman’s voice. “Kimmy, where did your flowers go?”

“I h-had an a-a-acthident!” Kimberly blubbered, looking down at her sagging, discoloured pull-ups.

“Awww, that’s okay Kimmy! Accidents are normal for little girls! There’s always next time!”

“Uh-hu!” Kimberly sobbed.

There was another wave of sparkles, and the program cut to a new scene. Now Kimberly was dressed in a frilly pink frock, though it still failed to cover her training pants completely.

“Thith time I’m gonna make it to the potty,” she told the camera confidently. She was squirming a little on the spot, rubbing her bare thighs together. Her confident expression slipped. “But the potty ith a bit thcary,” she admitted, “and I can’t figure out how it workth… I think I’ll jutht pee my pull-upth.”

“Maybe you should ask your Mummy or Daddy for help, Kimmy!” said the female voice. “Things are a lot less scary when a grown-up is with you, and I’m sure they’ll be able to figure out that silly potty!”

“Yeah!” Kimberly said, sounding delighted by the idea. “Daddy can help me!” She turned to the side of the set and called, “DADDY! I NEED MY POTTY!”

Almost immediately, Paul appeared on screen, holding a pink plastic potty in his hands. “Here’s your potty, princess!” he said, walking over and placing it down on the floor at her feet.

Kimberly did a fake giggle. “I’m not a printheth, Daddy!”

“Sure you are!” said Paul. “You’re the potty princess!”

Kimberly giggled again. “Potty printheth!” she echoed.

“Would the potty princess like to use her throne?” asked Paul.

Kimberly nodded eagerly.

“Do you know how to use the potty all by yourself, Kimmy?” he asked.

Kimberly considered the potty for a moment, then she looked up and shook her head brightly, sending her pigtails flapping about her face. “Nope!” she chirped. “I’m too little for that!”

“Good girl!” said Paul. He looked into the camera. “There’s nothing wrong with admitting you need your Mummy or Daddy. Even big girls like Kimmy still need help!” He slipped his fingers under the hem of his girlfriend’s ultra-short dress, hooked them into the waistband of her pull-ups, and tugged them down her legs. Then he grabbed Kimberly by her waist and lowered her bottom gently down onto her potty. “There you go, princess!”

The music started once more, though a different tune from last time, and this time Kimberly didn’t need to be prompted to sing along with her on-screen self. She didn’t want Daddy to get the diapers out of the cabinet… “I’m a big girl, look what I can do!” she sang, her face as red as a tomato. “I can wear grown-up panth too!”

She could sense Paul’s smirk, and practically feel his eyes on her pull-up clad derriere.

“Daddy, wow!” she sang, as the Kimberly on television hitched a big fake grin onto her face and pointed down at the training pants around her ankles. “I’m a big girl now!”

But as the Kimberly on screen successfully began to pee in the potty, the Kimberly in front of the television gasped and grabbed her crotch, the urgent need to pee arriving with no warning at all. She looked over her shoulder at once, her eyes wide and desperate. “Daddy!” she squealed, any dignity swept from her mind by the fear of pissing her pants. “I gotta go potty NOW!”

Paul grinned. “Okay, baby,” he cooed, “just wait right there and Daddy will get your potty!” He dashed out of the living room, leaving Kimberly to whine and wiggle and clutch between her legs, squirming and jumping from once foot to the other almost as absurdly as she’d done during her fake potty dance.

“Daddy, hurry!” she cried. A small squirt of pee dampened the front of her trainers, and one of her flowers started to fade. “Daddy, please!” Another trickle entered her pants. She clamped down on the flow, but a few more squirts broke past her feeble, toddler-like defences. More flowers began to disappear. “DADA!” she screeched. The trickle started again, and became a steady rush of hot wee-wee.

Paul came hurrying back into the living room, training potty in hand. He placed it at her feet and yanked her pull-ups down. Kimberly slammed her dainty backside onto the plastic seat at once, but it was too late. Barely a trickle of pee-pee made it into the potty. The rest had already soaked her pull-ups. They were pooled around her ankles, sopping wet and smelling strongly of pee. Kimberly burst into tears.

“It’s okay, baby,” Daddy cooed, getting to his knees and cuddling his girlfriend on the potty. “It’s alright.”

“No, it’s not!” Kimberly wailed, tears pouring down her face. “I wanna… be… potty trained!” she gasped through her sobs.

“I know, baby,” Paul crooned, rubbing her back. “I know you wanted to be a big, smart lawyer too, but you’ll have to make do with being a silly toddler, okay?”

“No-oooooo…” Kimberly hiccupped.

“A silly, adult-sized toddler who needs her Daddy,” said Paul gently, planting a kiss on Kimberly’s cheek. He helped her to her feet, and reached down for her training pants. He slid them back up and over her bottom with a squish, then scooped her up, one hand resting beneath her soggy tush. “Come with Daddy, baby,” he said softly, kissing one of her tears away and bouncing her lightly in his arms. She nuzzled her face into his neck, her sobbing dying down. “Let’s have a nice cuddle, okay? And if you’re good, maybe even a bit of naughty big girl time with Daddy…”