Scatterbrained

The votes came in faster than usual. The audience was clearly enjoying the chaos they’d already unleashed on Becky’s family and wanted to keep the momentum going.

Jack’s eyes sparkled as he read the results. “Well, well. It looks like our lovely contestant has drawn the short straw this time. Becky, you’ll be receiving Scatterbrained!”

A soft, electric buzz filled Becky’s head. At first it felt almost pleasant—like a gentle vibration behind her eyes. Then it accelerated.

Her thoughts, which had only just regained their old confident sharpness after reversing the meekness change, began to splinter. One moment she was mentally rehearsing her next defiant speech to Jack. The next, she was noticing how the studio lights reflected off Chrissi’s glossy lips and wondering if they tasted like strawberry. Then she was thinking about the way her own tight athletic shorts rode up when she shifted her weight, which made her thighs rub together, which—

Focus, she tried to tell herself, but the command slipped away like sand through her fingers.

“Oh… wow,” Becky murmured, blinking rapidly. Her voice came out a little breathier than she intended. She reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear and realized her hand was trembling slightly.

Jack tilted his head, clearly savoring the moment. “Having a little trouble there, Becky? Why don’t you tell the audience what you’re thinking right now?”

“I was… I was going to say something really good,” she replied, frowning. The words felt slippery. “About how I’m still going to win. How I’m going to use the wish to fix everything. But then I started thinking about… um…” Her cheeks burned as another intrusive image flashed through her mind—Chrissi and that toned Latina woman from the audience, both pressed close to her. “N-never mind.”

A soft, involuntary giggle escaped her lips. She clapped a hand over her mouth, mortified. The old Becky would have glared daggers at Jack. The new one felt a warm flutter low in her belly instead.

Her thoughts kept racing off in tangents. She’d start planning her next case pick, only to get distracted by the way the fabric of her sports bra hugged her breasts when she breathed, or how good it felt to be looked at by so many people, or whether Rob—no, the new little Rob—would look cute in pigtails.

It wasn’t a total wipe like a full Airhead transformation would have been. She could still think. She could still reason. But everything was… noisy. Unfocused. Brilliant ideas sparked and then fizzled before she could grab them. Plans dissolved into daydreams. And every time her new sexuality perked up, it made the mental static worse.

Jack stepped closer, voice dripping with mock sympathy. “Still determined to keep playing, Becky? Or is that getting a little harder to hold onto now?”

Becky bit her lip, trying to force her scattered mind back into line. “I… I’m still doing this,” she said. The words felt true even as they wobbled. “For my family. I just… I need to concentrate better. Or maybe… maybe if I get really turned on it’ll help?” She blinked, shocked that she’d said the last part out loud.

The audience laughed. Becky’s face went scarlet, but the flush spread downward, warming her chest and thighs. Her new kinks were loving every second of this.

Jack grinned wider. “Well, you still have several cases left before you can even think about quitting. So tell us, Becky… what’s your next pick?”

She stared at the board, thoughts bouncing wildly between strategy, fear, arousal, and half-formed ideas. Choosing felt harder than it should have.