You meet Ellen for lunch to catch up, and discuss business. She is thrilled to see you, and you find that she looks even more stunning than her pictures. You are actually slightly disappointed now, that you didn't pursue her romantically. Oh well; there's always room for that, later.
Anyway, she ends up getting you a runway gig, where it turns out, you will be wearing an athletic outfit for some local company that runs a gym, and markets athletic clothing on the side. The outfit they have you wear is extremely tight, and frankly a little gay, but no matter; a gig's a gig, besides, this job will surely lead to other, bigger jobs in the fasion and modeling industry.
You arrive early, and spend all your free time talking backstage with Ellen, the Producers, and several of the other models. They have free refreshments, and Ellen talks you into trying some new sort of drink. It's a sports drink, or energy drink or something. Trying to please Ellen for both personal and professional reasons, you go ahead and take the drink.
It tastes surprisingly good, and once finished, you continue chatting until it is your time to go on.
However, just before it's time for you to go out, you start to feel very strange. Your stomach feels quizy, and even stranger; you start to feel rather, helpless, like the whole world is against you.
"Ellen," you plead, "I don't think I'm going to be able to go on. I feel really... sick, or something. I'm sorry, I've got to go to the bathroom, or go sit down."
Ellen's eyes fume with anger and frustration.
"JACK, NO WAY! I worked really hard to get you this gig, and it's too late to get stage fright, now!"
Ellen had always been a rather strong, forceful woman, and that is actually what you'd always liked about her. However, now, with this new feeling of helplessness, you feel downright powerless to her. She forcefully grabs your arm, leading you towards the stage. Then, with a quick pat on your spandex-clad butt, and a forceful shove, she sends you on your way.
"Break a leg," she calls out.
Just as you step out onto the stage, you feel a sudden, strong urge to pee.
'no NOW!' you think, looking out into the crowd of people staring at you, and taking pictures. You try to push the feeling away, strutting out on the runway, and acting cool, but the feeling just gets stronger and stronger. Then, just as you reach the end of the runway, it happens: you start wetting yourself!
People start gawking and gasping at the model wetting himself like a baby, on stage.
You start crying with embarrassment, your face bright red, as you make your way off the stage, as quickly as possible.
Ellen finally finds you later, curled up in a corner somewhere in the studio, crying like a baby.
"Ok," she starts. Rather than angry, her tone is cold, and business like-even worse than angry. "Here's the deal, I've managed to talk the studio out of charging your for cleaning up the runway, but the clothing company is still upset at you for ruining their merchandise. However, they have agreed to meet with you, to discuss some sort of arrangement. Here's the address."
You thank Ellen, and apologize profusely, crying the whole time.
The next day, you go to the appointed address, a large gym on the other side of town. When you go in, you notice, strangely, that almost ALL of the people working out are women. Then, a very tall woman walks up to you.
"Jack?" She inquires.
"Yes," you answer.
"Follow me."
You follow the beautiful, muscular amazon to a room in the back of the gym, where two more women wait. One of them is about the same size as the first woman, while the third is much taller, and you only come up to her breasts. Dispite her large size and muscular build, she is very womanly and beautiful, with red hair, and big boobs.
"Hello there, Jack. I am Helga. You've met My sister Bertha, and this here, is Gigi."
"Hi," you say, nervously, feeling like a mouse in a room full of hungry cats.
"Now then, I invited you hear to discuss your little incident at the fasion show."
You blush bright red, as her sisters snicker, slightly. She goes on to tell you that to repay her for the cost of the clothing will cost you practically all the money you've saved up to move here; you'll be broke, and probably have to leave town. But, she offers you two alternatives, stating that this gym mainly centers around female strength, and over powering men, even though they do have a few male members.
"One," she says, "You can accept public punishment, at the local civic center, which would include a bare bottom spanking from me and all three of my sisters (she had another one, too, that you haven't met, yet.)
"But that would ruin my reputation!" You pleed, blushing at just how WHNEY you sound, "I'd probably never be able to get a job in this town, again!"
She smiles at you.
"Hardly," she replies. "Often times, things in this town have a way of fizzling out, very quickly. In a few weeks time, the man with the red bottom will be old news. Besides, what sort of reputation do you think you have, right now? Mr Potty Pants!"
You can only stare at the ground in embarassment.
"Now then, the second option will have no affect on your local reputation, but may make you a sort of star, online. You see, me and my sisters run a sort of adult baby, femdom, website, and are looking for a male model to be in it. This would last for about one month, and would involve your wearing and using diapers 24/7, as well as being babied, which includes free room and board."
"So, which will it be?"
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