Two options

The giant screen above the stage displayed the voting results. Two options—Valley Girl and Dirty Talk Only—had received exactly the same number of votes. The numbers froze at the same level, flashing red like a warning. The audience fell into tense silence, some spectators rising slightly from their seats, anticipating an unusual outcome.

Jack fell into an expectant silence, giving the audience a moment to process the situation. A self-satisfied smile played on his face, like a cat that had just caught a mouse. Then he grinned widely, almost ecstatically, spreading his arms.

— "Oh my God!" His voice boomed through the hall. — "Ladies and gentlemen, for the first time in the history of the show, we have a tie!" He paused for dramatic effect, savoring the tension in the air. — "Two options have received exactly the same number of votes." His smile widened even more, revealing his perfectly even teeth. — "And according to the rules of our show in such rare cases…" He paused again. — "We apply… both!"

The audience exploded in deafening cheers and excitement. Spectators jumped from their seats, clapping and whistling. Some screamed with delight, others howled with laughter, anticipating the spectacle. A few even started slapping each other on the back, as if they themselves had just won the jackpot.

Ginny paled so much that her skin became almost translucent. Her hypnotic eyes widened to their limits, and tiny pink hearts flashed brightly in their depths for a moment—her mind desperately tried to shield itself from the impending disaster.

— Sht… what?! Her voice came out hoarse and trembling, with constant smacking sounds. — No… you can’t… She tried to protest, but the words came out wet and helpless. Saliva flowed abundantly over her plump, parted lips, forming glistening threads that dripped onto her already damp blouse.

Jack turned to her, his smile becoming predatory, almost cruel. He savored her despair like a gourmet savoring a fine dish.

— Oh, but we can, Ginny, — his voice was full of saccharine venom. — And you’re about to feel it. — He stepped even closer, his breath now audible. — Hold on tight, little one. — His eyes gleamed with anticipation, like a predator before the final strike.

The Collar of Fate, snug around her neck, suddenly flared with bright pink light, illuminating her pale face from below. A hot, thick wave of magic surged directly into Ginny’s head like molten lava. She let out a quiet moan, her fingers convulsively clenched into fists, and then she grabbed her temples with her hands, as if trying to keep her mind from unraveling. Her short, thick legs buckled, and she swayed, her enormous round ass jiggled from the sudden movement, nearly throwing her off balance.

— Aaaahh… th… no… don’t… she moaned, but her voice had already begun to change, becoming thinner and more high-pitched. Saliva gushed even more, dripping onto the floor with a dull sound.

The mist of magic seeped deeper, like poisonous gas, filling every crevice of her mind. It reached the centers of speech, vocabulary, and thought patterns. Ginny felt her brain literally rewiring under the pressure of the alien magic. Old, familiar ways of expressing herself melted like wax in a flame, and in their place came new, completely foreign templates. It was agonizing and yet strangely pleasant, like an itch she couldn’t scratch.

First, a light, drawling Valley Girl accent appeared—her vowels stretched, and at the end of each phrase, that annoying upward inflection emerged, as if she were perpetually unsure. Typical slang words began slipping into her vocabulary: "like," "as if," "oh my God," and "whatever." But that was only the beginning.

Then, like a heavy hammer, the second change—Dirty Talk Only—layered on top. Now, normal speech became almost impossible. Her brain refused to form coherent sentences without using extremely vulgar, crude, or lewd language. To say something coherently, she had to use profanity or filthy phrases.

The mist began to dissipate, leaving behind an altered mind and the sweet aftertaste of magic. Ginny blinked several times, trying to focus. Saliva continued to drip from her chin, falling to the floor. She tried to swallow, but her mouth was already full, and a new portion began to spill out. She tried to say something simple, something neutral:

— I… I th… — she began, then immediately faltered. The words stuck in her throat like a wad of cotton. Her brain desperately tried to find the right expressions, but it only found those that fit the new rules. To finish the sentence, it automatically substituted crude constructions. — I, like, as if… don’t want my… — she hesitated, her voice becoming thinner — my wet little mouth and… and my fat bimbo ass… — her intonation stretched — to turn into, like, a total… a total slutty hole… — she finished the sentence with the characteristic Valley Girl upward inflection. — Oh my God…

She abruptly fell silent, her mouth remaining slightly open in shock. Her eyes widened to their limits, filled with horror and disbelief. Saliva gushed even more, dripping down her chin and onto her already wet blouse.

— Sht… what… what the fuck was that?! She tried to protest, but her voice came out even more high-pitched and drawn-out. But it only got worse: — Oh my God, what the hell is happening to my fucking mouth?! Her voice rang with the characteristic Valley Girl inflection. — I, like, totally didn’t want to sound like a cheap cum dumpster… — she finished the sentence with that annoying upward inflection, as if asking herself.

She covered her mouth with her hands, but it didn’t help. Saliva trickled between her fingers, forming wet trails on her cheeks. Her cheeks flushed with shame, and her eyes filled with tears.

— I… I can’t… speak normally… — she whispered, her voice trembling with despair. But even in this simple sentence, her brain substituted the necessary words: — Fuck, my brain now only thinks about dicks and, like, my dripping little pussy… — she finished the sentence with that annoying inflection again. — Oh fuck, I didn’t mean to say that! Her voice became even thinner, and at the end of the sentence, a characteristic giggle escaped, as if she herself found something funny in it.

Jack burst into loud laughter, his laughter echoing through the hall. He clearly enjoyed the spectacle like a child with a new toy.

— Brilliant! — he exclaimed, wiping away tears of laughter. — Now our Ginny speaks like a true Valley Girl, but only through the lens of the dirtiest dirty talk. He stepped even closer, his eyes gleaming with delight. — To say something normal, she’ll have to use the most vulgar expressions. He leaned toward her like a caring teacher. — How do you like your new vocabulary, sweetheart?

Ginny tried to respond with something angry, her fists clenched, and her eyes burned with fury. But her brain again substituted the necessary words, forcing her to say them against her will:

— This is, like, total fucking bullshit! — her voice came out thinner and drawn-out. — My poor little mouth can’t say anything normal without mentioning… — she hesitated, trying to find the words — how much I want to be… to be fucked in the throat… — she finished the sentence with the characteristic inflection, then added: — Fuck! I didn’t mean that! — her voice trembled with despair and shame.

She fell silent, her chest rising and falling in convulsive breaths. Saliva streamed down her chin, dripping onto the floor with a dull sound. Her short body trembled like a leaf in the wind, and her enormous ass quivered slightly from the tension. Inside her, a storm of shame and despair raged, mixed with a strange, almost painful excitement from the new sensations.

She understood that now every word she spoke would sound like the ramblings of a cheap, lustful slut, even if she tried to be serious. Every phrase would be steeped in vulgarity and crudeness, and her voice would sound like that of a ditzy Valley Girl who only thought about sex.

— I… I thtill… — she took a deep breath, trying to collect her thoughts. — will continue… — she managed to **** out, but her brain again substituted the necessary words, and the sentence turned out monstrous: — I, like, as if will still fight for my mum… — her voice became thinner, and her intonation more drawn-out. — even if I have to become a total cum-slurping hole for all these fucking viewers… — she finished the sentence with the characteristic upward inflection, then added: — Oh fuck, no! Her voice trembled with despair, and pink hearts flickered in her eyes.

She covered her face with her hands, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. Tears mixed with saliva on her cheeks, forming wet trails. Chaos raged in her mind: shame over what she was saying, despair over losing control of herself, and a strange, almost guilty excitement from the new sensations.

She swallowed another mouthful of saliva, but her mouth immediately filled again, and a new stream trickled down her chin. Ginny gathered the last remnants of her willpower, her plump lips trembling with effort. She spoke with visible strain, stretching her words in the characteristic Valley Girl manner, but with the inevitable dirty undertone her brain now automatically inserted:

— Oook… — she began with a typically drawn-out intonation, her voice thinner — like… the last case of this fucking round… — the end of the sentence rose with an upward inflection, as if she were asking herself. — Number… — she hesitated, saliva dripping onto the floor — nineteen… fuck! — the last word burst out with a note of despair and a loud smack.

Chrissy, with her usual theatrical flair, threw open chest #19. A silvery bimbo silhouette flashed brightly on the screen, with exaggeratedly luscious curves, a stupid, self-satisfied smile, and flickering pink hearts in her eyes. The audience erupted in delighted cheers—spectators jumped from their seats, whistled, and applauded, anticipating new humiliation. Some even screamed with excitement, clapping their hands.

Ginny closed her eyes, her eyelids trembling with tension. She let out a quiet moan, her short body swaying slightly forward, her enormous ass jiggling from the movement, nearly throwing her off balance. Her fists clenched so tightly her knuckles turned white, and her nails dug into her palms.

— Oh, fuck… — escaped from her in a wet, vulgar voice, with the characteristic Valley Girl inflection. — Again… again bimbo? She opened her eyes, her gaze filled with despair and disbelief. — My poor dripping little pussy can’t take this shit anymore… Her voice trembled, and saliva continued to flow down her chin, dripping onto her already wet blouse.

Jack laughed delightedly, his laughter echoing through the hall. He clearly enjoyed her despair like a gourmet savoring a fine dish.

— Oh, Ginny… — his voice dripped with honey, but his eyes gleamed with predatory triumph. — The final case of the second round—and another bimbo! He spread his arms wide like a magician revealing a trick. — You’re on fire today, sweetheart. His smile widened even more, revealing his perfectly even teeth. — The category is… Career Change!

The big screen lit up, and five options appeared, each worse than the last. The audience immediately reached for their remotes, their eyes gleaming with anticipation, and some had already started discussing the options with their neighbors. Ginny began reading, her hypnotic eyes with pink hearts darting across the lines, while saliva flowed even more heavily down her chin, dripping onto her chest.

1. Serving the Public – A waitress, bartender, or salesgirl in some cheap, noisy establishment. Constant public-facing work, **** smiles, an eternal desire to please customers at any cost. Her body would exist only to serve others, and her dignity would dissolve in a stream of orders, tips, and lewd jokes from drunk patrons.

2. Trophy Wife / Mistress – A kept woman for some fat, old, stinking rich man. A life dedicated only to beauty, sex, and status. Complete financial dependence on a patron who would see her as an expensive but easily replaceable toy. Her only value would be her body and her ability to please in bed.

3. Adult Industry Star – A porn actress, stripper, or adult model. A direct path to Goyle’s studio. Her body would become public property, and her name would be associated only with debauched films, lewd photos, and the dirty fantasies of strange men (.

4. Cuckold Enabler – She would still love Harry with all her heart but would never be able to have sex with him again. Instead, she would cheat on him with rich, influential men and adore the fact that Harry would be a cuckold. She would derive incredible pleasure from his humiliation and her own depravity, enjoying how her boyfriend suffered from her infidelity, how his heart tore apart.

5. Quidditch Team Cheer Slut – A cheerleader for her former team, the Holyhead Harpies. She would love fucking Quidditch players from any team after matches, inspiring them on the field with her body and "personal motivation." Her former pride in the team would turn into a lustful desire to service every player, giving them "extra motivation" in the form of her own body.

Ginny stood reading the options, her short body trembling with tension. Each line struck her soul like a hammer. She felt her insides clench with horror, and her heart beat so hard it seemed like it might burst out of her chest. The 4th and 5th options hit especially hard—they directly targeted her love for Harry and for Quidditch, the things that had once made her happy and proud.

— You fucking bastards! — she shouted, her voice trembling with rage and despair. But even that betrayed her, forcing her to speak in that awful style: — Like… as if my wet bimbo pussy isn’t already enough of a fucking mess… Her voice became thinner, and her intonation more drawn-out, with the characteristic Valley Girl manner. — Like, now you want me, bitch, to cheat on my poor boyfriend… She paused, her breath hitching — or suck off the whole fucking team? She finished the sentence with an upward inflection, then blurted out: — Oh fuck! Her voice trembled, and saliva gushed even more, dripping down her chin and onto the floor.

Saliva streamed down her chin, dripping onto the floor with a dull sound. Ginny wiped it away with a trembling hand, but it didn’t help—within a second, a new portion began trickling down her plump, parted lips. She looked at Jack with eyes full of despair, in which pink hearts flickered brightly, as if her mind was desperately trying to protect itself from what she saw. Her enormous round ass quivered slightly from the tension, and her short, thick legs trembled.

Jack turned to the audience with a wide, satisfied smile, spreading his arms like a conductor before the final chord.

— Voting is open, dear viewers! His voice was full of triumph. — Decide exactly what our stubborn Ginny Weasley will become after this round. He shot her a quick, predatory glance. — I’m sure you’ll choose something… very fitting. His smile widened even more. — Maybe even too fitting.

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Guys, this time there won't be two or more winners. If the votes are tied, my vote will be the deciding factor in which one wins.