Probably shouldn't have yelled at that fortune teller. you dumb baby bitch.

You lost your temper and screamed at a mysterious fortune teller. She didn’t get mad—she just smirked, snapped her fingers, and purred, “You’ll spend the rest of your life as the kind of woman you secretly jerk off to.” Now the curse is rewriting you from the inside out: one slow, humiliating, euphoric stage at a time. By midnight you’ll be a shameless, hyper-voluptuous, perpetually padded bimbo diaper slut who lives for thick diapers, messy accidents, and being treated like an oversexed, brain-drained plaything. There’s no reversal—only surrender.