It all started when I found these weird stories online. I had been trying to look up the latest conspiracy theories about government mind control, but the first link the search engine brought me was something called the Erotic Mind Control Stories Archive. Erotic Mind Control? I thought. What the hell is that? It sounds sick!
I was curious. How could mind control possibly be something erotic? I clicked the link. I couldn’t help it. My other research could wait-it was just for personal interest anyway. I read a few stories from the archive. I was right, these ARE sick!
Sick, yes, but strangely compelling. I found myself drawn mainly to stories about ordinary women being transformed into submissive, cock-craving, slutty bimbos. How would that feel? I wondered. How would it feel to be like that, beautiful and brainless, with nothing to worry about except fucking, sucking, looking sexy, and being obedient to a husband or Master? Is it easier to be a silly, giggly hottie than it is to be smart but plain? Are bimbos happier than regular girls?
The thing is, I had always looked down on stupid girls when I was in high school and college, especially the ones who I thought were being willfully stupid to get attention from guys. They were horrible examples of womanhood; REAL women were much more complex and capable than that! We’re trying to be PEOPLE here, not obedient sex objects and docile baby factories! I’d never been like that, never been a girly-girl, never really been interested in kids. Now, to my great embarrassment, I found that I was a teeny-tiny bit jealous of the beautiful sluts in the stories. They all seemed so happy to be bimbos! When was the last time I had been happy?
Stop that, I told myself. You’re just frustrated, is all. I had reason enough to be frustrated. My fiancé had just dumped me-a “Dear Jennifer” letter by email, no less. He was away in another state for grad school, and he just couldn’t deal with the long distance thing anymore. I couldn’t afford grad school myself. I had a double Bachelor’s degree in sociology and psychology, but you can’t really find much work in social science with only a BS, especially with the economy the way it is. I’d had hopes of becoming a writer, but I’d only ever managed to have a few magazine pieces published. Meanwhile, I was working as a secretary at the local community college to pay the bills. I hated it. Oh, it was an honest day’s work for an honest day’s pay, but it sure as hell wasn’t what I’d planned for myself when I was a kid. Especially since being a secretary was such a “girl” job. My boss was a decent sort, but I’ve caught him trying to peek down my shirt when he thinks I’m not looking. I think he kind of gets off on having a secretary to boss around. He doesn’t abuse it or anything, but it really gets me boiling if I think about it-that this man has the right to tell me what to do!
With great effort, I shut down my computer and went to bed. My pussy was wet. Throbbing. I was SO horny. I slipped my hand down my flannel pajama pants and touched myself gently.
Oh, fuck, that feels good. It was kind of disturbing to think that those degrading stories would have such a strong effect on my libido, but somehow that thought just made me hornier.
I slipped the pajama pants down, took off my top and lay on my bed nude. The cotton sheets felt good against my bare skin. I stroked my own breasts, pinched my nipples hard and wished someone was there to suck on them. My right hand wandered back down to my pussy. My legs were spread wide now, my fingers pushing gently, now up between the lips, now rapidly rubbing against my clit. I was restless on the bed now, my back arching as I came closer and closer to my limit. Finally I let my fingers thrust one last time in just the right spot, and I moaned out my orgasm. Exhausted, I drifted off to sleep.
My days began to follow a lonely pattern. Work, then dinner, then web time. I found myself looking at more and more stories about bimbos. Happy, horny bimbo sluts with giant breasts and trampy clothes, and Masters to take care of them. Masters with huge cocks, obedient whores begging to fuck and be fucked. Every night I would read. I couldn’t stop myself. The stories made me so hot. Every night I would fall asleep touching myself, hating myself for loving the stories so much but needing that passion desperately. Every night I would dream of having my intelligence and my will drained away, of my breasts swelling to immense size, of dressing like a cheap slut and begging to suck an unseen Master’s cock. Of submission and obedience, of dancing nude to please my Master and his friends, of fucking every one my Master told me to fuck.
I was starting to feel like I would fly apart. I felt like I was splitting into two people: one quiet, dignified semi-professional woman and one who was apparently a slut who got off on sleazy online porno stories. The stress of trying to keep these two separate, along with the stress of my recent breakup and my crappy job, was really starting to wear me down. If I’d been able to look at things objectively it would have been obvious that I was having a classic Jungian fight with my shadow-self, but my objectivity was pretty well out the window by that point, especially because I was so ashamed of getting off on the bimbo stories.
Friday was especially bad. My boss, the VP of Student Services, was having an important meeting with some execs from a pharmaceutical company, who apparently wanted permission to solicit on-campus to get people to sign up for their clinical trials of some new treatment for depression and anxiety. Now, as a psychology major, let me just say that I hated psych meds with a passion. I know there really are people out there who do have chemical imbalances and need that medical help, but I thought the things were overprescribed by lazy doctors who didn’t want to take time to actually listen to their patients.
Anyway, Mr. Stevens was meeting with these two suits in a conference room while I was typing away on some reports, when my phone buzzed. Apparently it was a bit dry in the conference room, and they were all thirsty. I found some glasses and filled a pitcher with ice water to carry into the room.
Mr. Stevens introduced me to the other two men. “Gentlemen, this is my secretary, Ms. Williams. Ms. Williams, this is Dr. Jordan and Dr. Barrows. Dr. Barrows is the head of research and development at VimCorp.”
Dr. Jordan was a fairly non-descript man of about 55 or so, but Dr. Barrows was HOT. Wasn’t the head of R&D at a pharmaceutical company supposed to look more sinister? Or at least nerdy? Instead I was faced with this Greek god of a man, with wavy brown hair, a great smile, and a well-built body. And his eyes, oh! They were an incredibly deep blue. Very intense. I was staring, I realized. I murmured something polite, then went to pour the water into the glasses.
Just my luck, I tripped while carrying a full water glass to the table. It spilled.
It spilled ON Dr. Barrows.
I gasped. He stood up, his expensive suit dripping wet. Mr. Stevens was mortified. “Jennifer!” he said sharply.
That sharpness in his voice was more than I could take. I burst into tears. “I’m sorry!” I sobbed out before fleeing the conference room.
I ran to the bathroom, utterly humiliated and weeping. I cried myself out after a little while and managed to compose myself enough that I thought maybe I could go back to my desk.
Mr. Stevens was waiting there for me.
He looked concerned, rather than angry, so I felt a little better. He apologized for yelling. “I know you’ve been stressed lately, what with your fiancé and all,” he said awkwardly. “Look, you’ve got a lot of vacation time saved up and it’s the middle of summer so there’s hardly anything going on here. I can handle things alone next week if you think you’d like to take some time off.”
“Thanks, Mr. Stevens, but I’m fine, really.” I tried to smile to show I was okay. What would I do with time off? I didn’t have anyone to spend it with or to go visit, and the idea of a week by myself was filling me with dread. I did not want to be that lonely.
“Jennifer,” he said sternly, “I’m not asking you, I’m telling you. It’s for my sanity as well as yours. Quite frankly, you’ve been, shall we say, less than efficient lately. And you’ve been... well, bitchy, honestly. I hate seeing you unhappy like this.” He smiled. “You need to get some rest and clear your head. Now go on home. I’ll see you back here a week from Monday.”
I felt panicky. “But... does this mean I’m suspended?”
“I’m not going to record it in your file like that. I’m only going to call it a vacation. But yes, in a manner of speaking, you are. It’s for your own good, Ms. Williams, your own good.” He strode back into his office as I stared helplessly after him.
Finally I started gathering up my things. I’m a mess, I thought. What the hell is wrong with me? I wandered towards my car, but stopped short when I realized that Dr. Barrows was still in the parking lot, between me and the safety of my car. Crap! He was the last person I wanted to see in my current state. Unfortunately, he saw me coming up to the door. There would be no avoiding him.
He smiled reassuringly when I walked towards him. “Ms. Williams,” he called out.
I interrupted him with a torrent of apologies. “Dr. Barrows, I’m so sorry about the water, I feel awful about it! I’ll get your suit cleaned if you’d like me to.”
“Oh, honey, don’t worry about it.” He had a gorgeous voice, a deep baritone with just a hint of a cultured southern accent. He was looking at me with those incredible blue eyes again. My knees felt weak. “It’s just water. See, I’m drying off already!”
“Well,” I said lamely. “That’s good.”
“Here, let me carry your bag,” he said. (I usually carried a backpack, not a purse.) “And please call me David. ‘Doctor’ is just too formal for a nice day like today, don’t you think? And may I call you Jennifer?” We started walking toward my car, the doctor... David... chatting away as if we were old friends.
I was really flustered by the attention. In spite of my newfound bedtime horniness, I was really not the sort of girl guys notice too often. Especially really hot guys like David. I was medium height, slightly overweight, and had some scars from being excessively prone to acne when I was a teenager. My hair was plain brown. It was clean, but it was boring. My eyes were a rather interesting shade of green, but since I had to wear glasses, no one really looked at my eyes. I did have a decent sized pair of breasts, C-cups, but that was about it.
David set my bag down in the passenger seat of my car. “There, now, are you sure you’re going to be okay? Mr. Stevens was saying you’d been stressed out lately.”
“I’ll be all right. Thanks. And I’m really sorry about the water.”
“Jennifer! I told you not to worry about that anymore!” He grinned. “Besides, Mr. Stevens felt so bad for me after that that he agreed to let us advertise on campus to get student volunteers for the clinical trials, so it all worked out.”
Great, I thought. Now my clumsiness is furthering the cause of unnecessary medicines. Aloud, I asked, “So, what sort of drug is this, anyway?”
“Oh, it’s really interesting! It’s going to do a lot of good for people with depression and anxiety. But it’s complicated, and I have an appointment soon. Would you care to discuss it some other time? Say, over dinner tomorrow night?”
He seemed sincere enough. Maybe it would be okay... after all, I was supposed to be relaxing. Whether I wanted to or not. “Okay,” I said.
David beamed. “Great! I know a really nice place we can go.” He asked for my address, told me he’d pick me up around 7, and hurried to his own car-a zippy little red BMW, I noted. He waved as he drove off, while I stood still more than a little bemused. Then I went home.
Friday night was a long night. Of course I spent more time on the computer than I meant to. Only tonight when I dreamed, it was David who appeared as my Master. I dreamed of kneeling before him, sucking his cock, of him cumming all over my slutty face. I dreamed of his cock ramming into my sopping wet pussy over and over again, of licking another slut’s pussy while David fucked me from behind.
I gave myself a stern lecture when I woke up. Those stories are NOT real, you can NOT be transformed into a bimbo, and you don’t WANT to be transformed into a bimbo! I spent some time straightening up my little studio apartment, but the computer continued to tempt me. I decided I should go to the mall to get away from the computer for awhile. I didn’t have anything nice to wear for a first date anyway. Maybe if things work out with David and I get myself into a NORMAL relationship, I’ll stop thinking about all this bimbo slut nonsense!
I wasn’t really a big fan of the mall, but it seemed like a good place to be that day. I wound up buying a pretty blue and white tank dress with a flippy sort of skirt. The top was a little more low cut than I usually wear, but the skirt was knee length, so I wasn’t going to feel too exposed. I also bought some nylons and a pair of white strappy sandals with a low heel. Even that one-inch heel was higher than I usually wore, though, so I was going to feel very dressed up! I bought a little purse, too. The dress didn’t have pockets, and carrying my backpack just wouldn’t look right with this outfit!
The salon didn’t look very crowded when I walked past it, so I went in and asked the stylist if she could maybe give me a little bit of a trim to make my hair look more stylish. She was able to shape my stringy, just-above-shoulder-length hair into a very flattering style. She also added some subtle blonde highlights. My hair had never looked so good! The stylist also talked me into having my eyebrows arched and getting a manicure and pedicure. I want to look good for my date, of course! I don’t think I’d ever spent that much money on my appearance at one time in my life. It didn’t seem to matter, though.
By the time I got home, I had just enough time to change clothes and put on a little bit of makeup-just a little bit—before David arrived to pick me up. I felt like my time at the mall had been well worth it when I saw the expression on his face when I answered the door. He looked me up and down in surprise, that sexy smile spreading across his face. Apparently he liked what he saw.
We went off to a restaurant I’d never visited before, a small, expensive Italian place on the other side of town. I’m not on my side of the tracks here! But with my nice new look and David attentive at my side, no one even noticed that I didn’t quite belong.
I had too much wine with dinner, or else it was stronger than I’d expected. Either way, I was feeling more than a little tipsy by the time David started talking about the new product his company needed test subjects for.
“I think it’s going to be a really important breakthrough,” he said. “I know you must have read Jung’s theories about the shadow archetype in some psych class or another, right?”
I nodded. Jung’s teachings about the shadow self being the repressed parts of someone’s personality manifesting themselves as a separate dream entity had been covered in quite a few of my undergrad classes, actually.
David went on. “Well, what we’ve come up with is a pill that brings those aspects of the shadow into the conscious mind. We have developed a sort of virtual reality machine that can read those brainwaves and create scenes that the person can play out AS the shadow self. What we’re hoping is that by bringing those repressed parts of the personality into the light and letting the person experience them in the V.R., it will help the person to acknowledge those aspects of themselves and integrate them into the main personality more easily. The drug also opens the person’s acceptance levels and makes it easier for them to believe what the therapist is telling them.”
I sat back in my chair. This was stunning. This was brilliant. This could revolutionize the mental health industry. How many neuroses spring from people not being willing to face less-than-pleasant truths about themselves? My mind was reeling, and not just from the wine. “David, you’re a genius!” I said. “That could do SO much good for people!”
“Shhh, not so loud!” David said, laughing. People had turned around to look-apparently I’d increased my volume a little too much.
I giggled. “Sorry.”
“Nothing to worry about. Here, have some more wine.” We drank a little more, finished off the bottle. I don’t normally drink much, but I felt so good and relaxed with David! The lightheadedness just seemed to suit the evening. But between the drinks and the high heeled shoes, I was a little wobbly by the time we were ready to leave. David gallantly offered me his arm as a support while we walked out to his car. He opened the passenger side door for me and helped me in. His hand brushed against my chest-seemingly on accident-and my nipples instantly turned hard, anticipating pleasure. My head was swimming.
“I have a prototype of the V.R. machine at my house,” David said as he got in to the driver’s seat. “Would you like to see it?”
“I’d love to.”
David’s house was a little ways outside of town, out towards the state forest. Very secluded, and very large and beautiful, as far as I could tell in the dim starlight.
“Nice,” I said appreciatively. The cool air on the drive had cleared my head a little bit. I could have walked on my own without stumbling, but it felt nice to be clinging to David’s arm. He was so big and strong.
“Come on in, sweetheart. I have the V.R. downstairs in the basement.” He led me inside, contriving to rub against my breasts once more. This time I wasn’t able to keep a soft sigh from escaping. I took hold of his hands and placed them on my breasts directly. He squeezed gently. “Mmmm, those are nice,” he said. He pulled me into his arms, kissed me hungrily. I reached down and groped his cock through his pants. It was rock hard already, and felt huge. I moaned in desire. I couldn’t help myself. I needed to suck that cock.
I unfastened David’s pants and tugged them down, freeing his cock. God! It had to have been at least 10 inches long, and gloriously thick. My fiancé’s dick had been infantile compared to this one. I dropped to my knees and took David’s cock into my mouth.
I had never liked sucking my ex’s cock, but had done it on occasion to keep him happy. David’s cock, though, was delicious. I sucked and slurped, swirling my tongue around the head. I couldn’t get enough. I wanted him to cum in my mouth.
A small voice in the back of my mind was wondering if it was really a good idea to be sucking off a guy I’d only known for two days, but I ignored it. It wasn’t any fun to think about what that voice had to say! I would rather listen to David’s grunts of pleasure as I fucked him with my mouth.
“Oh god, you really are a slut!” he moaned. “You stupid little cocksucker!”
Should I feel insulted?I wondered. No, of course not. I was a slut. It was so obvious, because nice girls don’t suck guys off on first dates. And I was obviously a cocksucker, because that’s what I was doing! And of course I was stupid, because smart girls know better than to go home alone with guys they don’t know. So I really WAS a slutty, stupid cocksucker! David was right. He’s a genius. My glasses had fallen off at some point, but it didn’t matter. I was able to see okay without them.
David shot his load into my mouth. It was delicious! I swallowed every drop of his hot creamy cum, then licked his cock clean.
Once David’s cock was out of my mouth and his pheromones weren’t so obvious, part of my normal personality tried to reassert itself. “Huh...? What...? Why...?” I mumbled. I’d never acted like this before! What was wrong with me?
David chuckled, then sat down on the couch and beckoned me over next to him. “Is my little fuckdoll confused? Come sit with me and I’ll explain.” I was indeed confused. That condition didn’t get any better when David started idly feeling my boobies through my dress while he was talking.
“I wasn’t entirely honest with you during dinner, Jenni,” he said. “Everything I told you about the new treatment is true, but I left some things out. See, if someone takes a very large dose of the medicine, but doesn’t work that off by using the V.R. machine, then they actually become their shadow selves in real life. Permanently. And you, my pretty little fuckbunny, had a very, very large dose. Your dose was so big that you’re not only going to become your shadow self mentally and emotionally, but physically as well. You’re going to look so cheap and slutty by the time it’s done!”
Had he called me Jenni? No one had called me Jenni since I was little. But I liked it. And I liked his big strong hands groping my titties, even though I was having a lot of trouble concentrating on what he was saying. “But, like, I didn’t take any medicine!” Why did my voice sound so weird? Higher pitched and sort of breathy.
“Oh, but you did, baby. It was in the wine. And you had a lot of wine.” He was reaching down inside the top of my dress now, pinching my nipples gently while he talked. “I had some too, of course, but I’m already my shadow self. I used to be a geeky nice guy, but when I developed this and tested it on myself, surprise! Can’t you feel the effects of the medicine, just like I told you about? It’s so easy for you to believe and accept everything I tell you, isn’t it?”
It WAS easy. I was easy. I still managed to gasp out, “But, like, how did you know? How did you know I would become a bimbo? You stayed smart after you took the medicine!”
“It was a guess, but a pretty good one. All feminists have a submissive little bimbo slut inside them, just waiting to get out.” He stopped groping and lowered his voice. “You’ve been so horribly unhappy being a smart woman, haven’t you?” he asked sympathetically. “All those decisions you had to make for yourself, all that thinking you had to do. It must have been so hard for you.”
I nodded slowly. “Yes. It was hard.”
“You don’t like to think at all, do you?”
He was right, of course. “I hate thinking.”
“Doesn’t it just give you a headache if you try to think too hard?”
“Poor little slut. So stupid, trying to be so smart out in the world. But it’s okay now. You can relax.”
“That’s right. You don’t have to think anymore.”
“Don’t have to think....”
“It’s so much easier if you let me think for you, isn’t it?”
“You don’t have to worry about anything. You can just be pretty and giggly. You’re SO stupid. You don’t have to pretend to be smart anymore. You can just be your true self, a giggly bimbo with no brain.”
I felt like a fog was rolling into my brain, making it so hard to think. I really WAS stupid! Why hadn’t I realized it before?
“This is what you’ve always wanted, isn’t it? A big strong man like me to look after you. You’re such a cute little brainless bimbo. You just want to fuck and suck and serve your man. You need a man to be your Master.”
He was right! Why had I been trying to be the other way for so long? I was so relieved that I had a man to think for me, I could have cried in joy! I could actually feel my IQ dropping like a rock, and it felt SO good!
“You want to take care of the house, raise babies. You just want to be an obedient wife. You are so totally devoted to your man. You’re a submissive slave for your man.”
Of course I was! I was totally made to serve and obey my Master! I was just a silly little bimbo, no good trying to be anything else!
“You need cock more than anything in the whole world. You’ll fuck or suck anyone who wants you. You want cock anywhere you can get it-in your mouth, or your ass, or that wet sloppy cunt. You want to dress so that everyone knows you’re just a mindless fuckbunny. Jenni Fuckbunny, that’s your new name. You want everyone to know what a slutty bimbo you are. You want everyone to know you’re just a silly, stupid girl who can’t think and needs a man to tell her what to do.”
I was, like, so dumb! And so horny! “But why... um... why...?”
“What is it, you cute little fuckbunny?”
“Um, I, like, forgot my question!” I giggled.
“That’s because you’re not Jennifer anymore. You’re Jenni. Jenni is really dumb!” said David.
“Oh yes, Jenni is a dumb slut!”
“Jenni looks like a dumb slut, too!”
“REALLY?” I was so happy! I giggled again. “Does Jenni have, like, big slutty titties and stuff?”
“Come look in the mirror.”
David helped me up off the couch. I could feel that my titties had grown, and when I looked down they were so big I couldn’t even see my feet! “Ooooh!” I squealed. “Oh, Master! I totally love my new titties!”
“Of course you do. Jenni is a stupid whore who needs to have big titties so everyone can see what a slut she is! But come see what else has changed.”
I looked in the mirror. The sluttiest bimbo I’d ever seen was staring back at me. Gone were the extra fat, the acne scars. My giant new tits were spilling out of the dress. They had to have been at least F-cups. They looked so fake and slutty! They weren’t sagging at all, they stuck straight out, and the nipples were so huge! My waist had narrowed but my hips and butt had gotten very round. My skin had darkened to more of a golden shade, like sluts who go tanning all the time. My lips were plump and full-they looked perfect for cocksucking! My eyes were wider, and a brighter green. They had used to show some spark of intelligence, but now they just sparkled with lust and giggles. My hair-no more subtlety to it, it was now totally blonde, a very pale whitish-blonde, and so long! It was almost down to my slutty round ass.
But there were a few things wrong. “Like, why am I wearing this stupid dress and those boring shoes? And I hardly have any makeup on! I look like a total prude!” I did, too! The dress almost came down to my knees, and the heels on the shoes were so low they didn’t show off my legs at all!
“Now, Jenni,” said David. “You can just take them off if you don’t like them! There are lots of slutty clothes for you upstairs. And makeup too.”
“Yay! Oh, Master, you’re so good to me! I love being your slut!” I ripped off the ugly dress, kicked off the shoes, pulled the pantyhose and the boring cotton underwear off. Then I frowned, the flash of something crossing my mind. “But how did you know...”
“Now, Jenni, you don’t need to be worrying about questions! You just need to be a pretty little fuckbunny!”
“Oh, right!” I giggled. “I, like, forgot. Can I go upstairs so I can see all my slutty new clothes?”
David looked me over. “Not just yet. Not quite yet, whore. I want to play with those trashy tits of yours.”
“Goody!” I jumped up and down excitedly, and my titties bounced.
“You slut,” growled David. “I am going to fuck you so hard.” He grabbed me and pulled me down to the floor. “Look at you, you nasty little bimbo. You’re so stupid. You were made for fucking.”
I was so hot! I love being reminded of what a stupid bimbo I am! “Oh, Master, please fuck me! Please fuck your slut! My slutty cunt is so wet! I need to be fucked by your big hard cock! Please, please fuck me! I’m SO horny!”
My legs were spread wide, my pussy begging to be filled with my Master’s cock! David lay on top of me. I could feel the head of his cock brush against my pussy lips, and I screamed again. “Please, Master, fuck your slave!” I thrust my hips upward and was rewarded with David’s huge cock thrusting into my pussy.
“You nasty cunt,” he groaned as he pounded away on top of me. “God, I can’t believe what a stupid bimbo you are! You dumb, skanky, slutty fuckbunny!”
“Oh yes! Jenni is a bimbo! Jenni is a hot slut who lives for cock!” I screamed. “Jenni is a dumb fuckbunny slave!” And I came and came, over and over again.
We fucked so hard that we wore ourselves out and fell asleep right there on the floor! When I woke up the next morning, David was still asleep. I knew I needed to make myself look cheap and fuckable, so I went upstairs to find my new slutty clothes.
I found a giant closet full of little tight shirts and skirts that were barely there! There were lots of sexy shoes with really high heels, too! And some really slutty g-strings and thong panties. No bras, but sluts like me should never wear bras anyway, so it was okay! Then there was a bathroom with a big bathtub and shower, and lots of hair styling things, and all kinds of makeup in really pretty bright colors! I love my Master SO much! He wants me to be the sexiest bimbo around!
I took a shower. I tried to be quick about it, but the water felt so good on my big new bouncy titties that I kept forgetting what I was trying to do! I’m so silly!
Once I finished my shower, I toweled off. I put a lot of gel in my hair and scrunched it up while I was blowdrying it so it looked really wavy. Then I combed up my bangs and sprayed them so I’d have big hair and look really trashy, just the way Master likes! I put on lots of makeup. I made sure to put my foundation on really thick, so it showed up and looked fake. Then some really bright pink blush on my cheeks, some sparkly blue eyeshadow-it was so pretty!—and lots of mascara and eyeliner. I finished off with some sparkly pink lipstick. I used several coats of it. I looked so cheap and slutty!
I went back to find some clothes in the giant closet. First I put on a sexy little white lace thong. Then a really cute frilly pink skirt and a white halter top that barely covered my giant titties. It had some writing on it, but I had to sound it out before I could read it. B-I-M-B-O... “Ooh, it says ‘bimbo!’” I realized. “That means that I should wear it, because I’m, like, a bimbo!” I put on a pair of pink sandals that laced all the way up to my knees. They had five-inch heels, and they made my ass sway when I walked! I couldn’t believe how slutty I looked. I loved it!
I went back downstairs. David was just starting to wake up. His cock was already hard. I knelt down between his legs and took his cock into my mouth. He grunted happily as I started sucking. Mmm, I love sucking cock! I swallowed all of his cum. “You are such a sexy little bitch,” he said, squeezing one of my tits. “Let me see how you look.” I stood up to show off my slutty clothes. “What a good slut you are!” David said.
“Thank you, Master!” I was so happy that he approved!
“Now go in the kitchen and make us some breakfast. It’s that way.” I skipped off, giggling. Of course, as dumb as I was, I shouldn’t have remembered how to cook, but I did! David said it was because I needed to know how to cook so I could be a happy little housewife. He’s SO smart. He thinks of everything!
We had so much fun that week. I can’t even count how many times I got fucked and how many cocks I got to suck! David invited some of his friends over, and I got to suck their cocks. Yummy! One time David took me to a meeting with some other smart doctors, and I got to get up on the table and dance. They even let me take off my clothes and shake my giant titties! Becoming a bimbo slave was the best thing that ever happened to me! I loved cooking and cleaning and doing the laundry. I loved being obedient and slutty. I just wish I hadn’t waited so long to try it!
The next Monday came around, and David said it was time for me to go back to work for Mr. Stevens.
“Will I get to fuck Mr. Stevens?” I asked eagerly.
“Maybe,” he said. “If you are a very good slut.”
I made sure to pick out an extra slutty outfit that day—a red lycra minidress. I couldn’t button it up all the way, so my titties were almost hanging out of it! It just barely covered my ass. Anyone who wanted to would be able to take a look at my shaved pussy-no panties today! I had some black fishnet stockings with garters and these really cute shiny red shoes that looked sort of like ballet shoes, only of course they had really high heels. By then I was an expert at walking in sexy shoes!
David had to drive me to work, because I was so stupid I didn’t remember how to drive! He came inside with me.
“What on earth....” gasped Mr. Stevens when we walked in. “JENNIFER?”
I giggled. “No, Mr. Stevens, my name is Jenni now! Jenni Fuckbunny! David turned me into a bimbo slut! And I love it! I’m SOOO stupid and horny all the time now!”
“See,” said David, “I told you it would work.”
Mr. Stevens shook his head in amazement. “I never would have believed it. I guess you were right!”
I went and sat on Mr. Stevens’s lap. I could feel his cock getting hard through his pants. “Feel my big tits, Mr. Stevens! They feel real, even though they look fake and slutty!” I giggled while my boss groped me. It felt SO good!
“I guess you’re a lot more willing to let us run our tests on your campus now, right?” asked David.
“Mmm, yes,” said Mr. Stevens with some effort. I was rubbing my ass against his cock. “How do we know they’ll turn in to bimbos, though? The way you explained it, it didn’t sound like there was any guarantee.”
“There isn’t. But look at that cheap little fuckbunny on your lap! The more of these bitches we turn, the more and more convinced I am that every smart feminist secretly wants to be slutty and submissive. A few of the test subjects did get violent, or just plain weird, but 97% of them turned into living sex dolls. This is the first one I’ve gotten to keep for myself-the investors needed to be paid off first! You’ve got a really popular women’s studies program here, don’t you? Those women will make perfect bimbos. And really, deep down, every man wants his girl to be a devoted little slut, so I don’t think we’ll have much trouble once we get the program going!”
I wasn’t paying much attention-Mr. Stevens was still playing with my titties-until David asked me, “What do you think, Jenni? Should we let more women become their shadow selves and be happy little bimbos like you?”
“Oh yes!” More sluts! Of course every woman secretly wants to be a slut! It’s SO much more fun than being a smart girl! “I can’t wait! Every girl should be a bimbo! It feels so good to make men happy!”
“I thought you said you didn’t need men,” Mr. Stevens said, slipping a hand up my skirt to play with my pussy.
“Oh, Mr. Stevens, I didn’t mean it! I need men! I love men! I love being a stupid slut! I’m so glad David turned me into my true self! May I please suck your cock?” Without waiting for permission, I unzipped his pants and knelt down in front of him. “Oh, Mr. Stevens, your cock is so big! I’ve always wanted to suck it, to be a trampy cocksucking secretary! Please?” I began to lick his cock as if it were a lollipop. It was almost as delicious as David’s! I took it into my mouth and sucked, bobbing my head up and down rapidly.
“Stop, Jenni. I’m not going to cum in your mouth,” said Mr. Stevens. I looked up, disappointed through my mouthful of cock. “I’m going to bend you over my desk and fuck that tight round ass of yours.”
I squealed. Getting fucked in the ass is so much fun, because I can really squeeze tight and men love that! I tottered over to the desk, pulled up the skirt of my dress, and bent over, wagging my ass in the air. I always keep my asshole lubed, because that’s what David told me to do, just in case anyone wants to fuck it, so all Mr. Stevens had to do was thrust his hard cock into my poop hole!
“Oh yeah, bitch,” he panted, pumping in and out of my ass while I bent over. “I always wanted to do this to you, you stupid bitch, coming in here acting all prim and proper, getting mad if I looked down your shirt. I always knew you were a whore underneath! You’re getting it now, bitch.”
I was moaning. I love getting ass-fucked, and I’d always wanted Mr. Stevens to fuck me! He was such a strong, smart man, and I was just a fucktoy! My only reason for existing was to make men happy! I felt so silly for being mad that he used to look down my shirt. I want men to look at me; it makes me so hot and horny when men realize what a slut I am!
“Oh, yeah, bitch, oh yeah, I’m gonna cum in your ass, you stupid slut.” And he did! I could feel Mr. Stevens’s hot cum starting to seep out of me as he pulled out with a slurping sound. “Clean me off, slut.” I knelt obediently and licked the lube, cum, and poop off of that wonderful cock.
Well, of course watching that got David all hard and hot, and he needed to be fucked too! He had me lay down on the desk while he fucked my wet cunt. My cunt is so wet all the time now. I’m always ready to fuck! Then while David was fucking me, Mr. Stevens got hard again, and he had me jack him off while David was pounding my pussy. Mr. Stevens came all over my slutty tits and face! I licked up what I could reach with my tongue. It was delicious. All cum is delicious.
David took me home a little later; Mr. Stevens told me I’m really too stupid to do any office work any more, and besides, if other girls saw me it might upset the “plans.” Whatever those were. But he said I could go back and visit whenever I wanted!
I suppose it’s just as well. David and I are going to get married soon. Then we’re going to have lots of cute little babies for me to take care of. It will be so great! David wants me to be a housewife and mommy, so of course I want to be a housewife and mommy! I can’t tell you how big a relief it is to let David do my thinking for me. Like he said, women are for fucking, not for thinking! I’m such a lucky fuckbunny to have such a smart Master!
The only thing I feel bad about is how long it took me to accept my shadow self. I could have had so many cocks and so much fun if I’d only known I really wanted to be a stupid bimbo! I wasted so much time studying when I could have been fucking! I could have been dumb and happy years earlier! I don’t know what was wrong with me. At least David and Mr. Stevens are going to work with the girls at the college so they don’t make the same mistakes I did. And sometimes they’re going to take me up there so they can show the other girls the way they should really be. I’m really happy for all those future bimbos and fuckdolls! Women should have never tried to be independent. It makes us so unhappy! I’m so glad they’re going to show those girls how to be domestic and dumb and slutty and obedient; it’s definitely a better way to be! That’s what women were made for!
Anyway, I wasted a big part of my life trying to be smart and independent, but this brainless fuckbunny is making up for lost time now!