Curse of Maladaptive Affection- Every time someone calls you "cute", you get a little cuter. Seems innocent enough at first, but the curse's definition of cute seems to be, well, a dumb, helpless, padded little princess.
At first, the changes are small. Your cute giggle gets a little higher-pitched. Your cute eyes get a little bigger and brighter. Your cute work dress becomes an adorable pink.
But, as it goes on... Your cute slip of the tongue turns into a permanent speech affect. A cute tripping incident turns into consistent clumsiness. Your cute moment of weakness becomes a complete loss of emotional control. You forget a minor thing in a way that someone finds cute and it leads to a lingering brain fog. You stumble over your own name and you're helpfully reminded that a cute thing like you naturally has a cute name like Princess!
Eventually all your little cutenesses stack up, and you find yourself lost in your office building frantically looking for a bathroom. Onlookers chuckle and coo, because of how cute you are of course! The sight of you would be ludicrous if not for the curse, running around in your cute puffy pink dress that may as well be a toddler's Halloween costume. Not to mention the cute cute cute way you're stumbling around, bumping into everything with the skirt propped up by layers and layers of cute frilly petticoats. And the cute cute big wet eyes you have, as you feel your bladder about to burst. But eventually, you fight through the brain fog and find the bathroom in the same place it's always been... and out of order.
It's not fair!, you mentally cry as you cutely stomp your foot, It's not fair! In a better state of mind, you might have started hurrying to the next restroom potty, futile as it was. But the cute cute cute cute cute you? Well, you cutely roll around on the floor and throw a cute little fit. You only manage to pull yourself together and stop when your boss a mean old lady walks up, towering over you. "What's going on? Is everything alright, Princess?"
The lucidity comes like being doused with a bucket of water. You cutely stumble up to your feet as you cutely stumble over your next words. You can't even make eye contact, just staring at your cute manicured hands as you fidget with them.
"Well, um, I um... Princess was lookin' for da pott-"
You scarcely get your words out before the pressure in your bladder returns in full force. By the time you realize what's happening, it's already over. The smell hits your nose as the hot damp feeling hits your thighs. Your boss grimaces, and tears well up in your eyes as you anticipate what she'll say next. But, no harsh rebuke comes.
Instead, perhaps in an awkward attempt to empathize, she says "You... you can go home for the day, okay? Just get cleaned up."
In an as-of-late rare show of wisdom, you immediately head for the exit, but not before you hear one last thing. "Oh, and Princess? It's um, a cute dress you're wearing, by the way".
Immediately, you feel the change (perhaps literally) in between your thighs as they're wrapped in a ludicrous cute thickness that puffs out your dress even further. You turn around to see your boss's reaction, but she seems unfazed. In fact, she glances down with a matter-of-fact weariness.
"Wet again, Princess? It's almost cute how fast you fill those up. Come into my office and we'll get you changed again, okay?"
