Bob Barker Erotic Fanfiction

This story appears in an optional sTalk conversation with Great Aunt Geraldine in episode three. Written by Jalapeno Bootyhole.

The camera panned over the audience and showed a mix of tourists and retirees in pantsuits, several still wearing visors and oversized sunglbumes from the hours spent outside in the hot sun, waiting in line for the show.

The Price is Right’s theme song blasted from the speakers as the announcer yelled, “Agnes Sanborn, come on down! You’re the next contestant on The Price is Right!”

At a spry 82 years old, Agnes arose from her chair in the audience with bumistance from her longtime friend, Gretchen. Thrilled she had finally been selected, Agnes stepped into her Hoveround, quickly plunked herself down, and sped toward the stage.

Agnes arrived at the front of the stage. She didn’t even hear the audience’s applause as she locked eyes with Bob Barker.

He gave her a smoldering look. Suddenly, Agnes felt a moistness appear in her adult diaper.

For the first time in decades, she was aroused.

Bob tore his eyes from Agnes and smoothed his silver hair.

“Welcome, Agnes!” he said in his practiced, suave manner.

“This is the next item up for bid!”

Bob performed a quarter-turn and in a sweeping gesture, pointed to the parting curtains.

“It’s a new Wash-O-Matic washing machine, with 32 settings and an extremely delicate girdle cycle.”

The audience gasped with appreciation and Agnes’ loins quivered.

“Agnes,” Bob asked, “what would you bid for this fine piece of machinery?”

Agnes looked into Bob’s eyes and knew what the look he gave her meant. He wanted her. He wanted to be inside her.

“Three h-h-hundred sixty-five dollars, Bob,” Agnes breathed.

Agnes never noticed what the remaining contestants bid, for in that instant, she and Bob were as one.

She imagined a romantic scene back at the retirement village, where she and Bob would share a tapioca pudding snack.

But Agnes was broken out of her reverie when she heard Bob’s voice calling to her.

“The actual retail price is $370 and Agnes is our winner!”

As the show’s theme music played and the crowd cheered to celebrate her victory, Agnes felt a surge of orgasmic pleasure pulsate and ripple outward from her long-quiescent woman's genitals.

Her eyes rolled back in her head and she mumbled, “Bawwwbbbbmphhhh.”

Agnes’ knees buckled and she reached out to the podium in front of her to steady herself.

The diaper, now soaked, hung uselessly, pulling down the crotch of Agnes’ striped polyester trousers.

Suddenly, Agnes felt a pain in her left arm. Her chest tightened. She couldn’t breathe.

Agnes’ palms became clammy and she lost her grip on the podium.

She tumbled to the floor and as her head smacked against it, her jeweled cat-eye glbumes slid along the cold cement and came to a stop at a camera operator’s feet.

As he shifted his feet to catch the scene, his heavy worker’s boot crunched the glbumes, pulverizing the glbum and twisting the frames.

Blood pooled underneath Agnes’ head and the circle of dark red spread outward.

Bob rushed off the stage and knelt at Agnes’ side. “Agnes, hold on,” he said. “The paramedics will be here soon.”

“Blurgulburble,” Agnes choked, through the blood in her mouth.

Bob winced in disgust, but nonetheless wiped the blood from her face with his sleeve so that she could speak for one last time.

“Baaaahhbbb, my love…will I dream?” Agnes asked.

“Yes, Agnes,” Bob replied. “You will dream.”

The End.