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@agentalucard
https://www.instagram.com/samantha.hbic/
BambiBimboDoll 🔥🔥🔥
♡ Artist’s Pixiv ♡
Brandi Andrews
Always be practicing
What a beautiful view
Its funny to think that just a few weeks ago Taylor was one of the most button-down, professional, serious-minded coworkers I had.
And then she hit me up for weed. I mean, who doesn’t need to self-medicate every now and then, and it was an open secret in the office that my brother owned a dispensary.
So I gave her an eighth of a very special strain — Pink.
The differences were noticeable almost immediately. Taylor was smiling more around the office and generally seemed in a better mood — more relaxed, more giddy. Her once-stern facade even gave way to a giggle every now and then.
She was also more forgetful and had a habit of throwing a few extra “likes” and “ums” into her usually professional demeanor.
Her skirts were also increasingly tighter against her slowly growing hips.
And, like clockwork, she was hitting me up for some more only a week later.
Things really went downhill after that: She was showing up to work late. Wearing outfits that were way too casual. Being way more flirty.
And I guess it was the final straw when they caught her smoking a joint in the bathroom.
So there she was, lying on my sofa in a smoke-filled haze and complaining about her circumstances in life.
“Its, like, totes unfair!” she said, while I ignored the fact that her hand had snuck its way between her legs. “C’mon, I’m just as, you know, smart as everyone else in the office. Its just that they don’t like me now that I’m happy instead of mean. Ya know?”
I wasn’t really paying attention. I was staring at her tits, which had definitely added a cup size or two.
So I told Taylor that I understood, and that it really sucked, and if she needed a place to crash should could stay with me.
And like that she leapt to her feet and planted with big wet smooch on my lips. And then another. And then started grinding up against me before sliding onto her knees.
Well, you can presume the rest.
Taylor’s plans of applying to new jobs went out the window and she spent the days lounging around my place and smoking nothing but Pink.
Not that I mind. Who doesn’t want a stoner fuckbunny as a roommate?
Besides, the annual company gala is coming up soon, and I think Taylor would make a great date.
Michelle had always prided herself on her IQ level and her ability to treat all of her coworkers equally, even though there were some that were obviously so far beneath her that they were not worth her time. She had been asked out on a date by a few of them. She had always been able to come up with a reason to politely turn them down. Or so she thought.
She had been checking her e-mail when she saw one from a sender she did not recognize. It was marked extremely urgent and it did come from within the company. She decided that she should open it. It contained a link. Since that was the only thing in the e-mail, she clicked on it.
As soon as she did, it took her to a website that had a single question on it.
“Would you rather work the rest of your life, or would you rather retire now and have someone else provide everything you could ever want?”
She clicked the second option. Her screen changed to a new set of options.
“No hair or hair to your knees?”
She of course choose hair to her knees as she thought she would look ridiculous with no hair.
“Blonde, Redhead, or Black hair?”
She liked being a brunette, but that option was not available. She had always heard that redheads had more fun, but then again blondes did seem to be more ditzy. She had often wondered what it would be like to a ditzy blonde. She thought about it for a minute or two before she clicked on blonde.
“Eye color: Blue, Green, or Brown?”
She liked her brown eyes but she thought that blue eyes would go better with blonde hair. So she chose blue.
“No breasts for the rest of your life, or ones that are five times your current size?”
She did not like either option, but she knew she would be incomplete without her breasts. She also knew that she had to answer the question, so she chose the larger breasts.
The next question was a little deeper.
“Would you rather know what’s happening but be powerless to change it, or not realize until it’s too late.”
Michelle had always hated surprises so she chose the first option. That’s when she realized her hair was rapidly turning a platinum blonde and growing longer. She could also feel her breasts enlarging. Somehow the answers she was giving were coming true. She knew that she should have stopped, but she also realized that she would not be able to. After all, she had said she wanted to know what was happening but be powerless to stop it.
“Would you rather have a bimbo body or a bimbo brain?”
Fuck. And it was programmed by some kind of pervert… She could see that there was no way out of becoming some kind of sex toy for whoever was behind this, but at least she could control what kind. And being hot could be an advantage, obviously she would take that over being dumb. The moment she clicked, she felt her legs lengthen, her already flat belly flatten flatten even more, her arms lengthen, even her face was shifting. Her fingers and fingernails even lengthened. Hell, even her already large breasts swelled in size some more. It should have hurt, or at least been weird and uncomfortable… But it just felt good.
“Would you rather be programmed by audio or video?”
There it was she thought. She had no choice except those two options. She chose audio. She tried to fight it, even though she knew it was hopeless, but her hands reached for her headphones and settled them over her ears like they had a mind of their own.
Strange, humming noises began to play while voices whispered an overlapping babble just on the edge of hearing.
“Would you rather submit to being reprogrammed or obey one command?”
Shit, maybe there was an escape after all! Maybe she could get out of this.
She clicked “obey one command.”
As soon as she did the screen switched to a video that automatically started playing. Turns out the creator of the survey was the most disgustingly in the company. She remembered that he had asked her out a couple of months prior. Apparently she had not turned him down as well as she thought. Towards the end of the video he said that he would be by to collect her once her reprogramming was done. His final statement was “Submit to being programmed.” There it was. She know knew without a doubt that she was doomed to be nothing but a sex slave for the rest of her life.
Then there were the voices, and her thoughts spiraling away, and more questions to click so that she could become a good little empty-headed bimbo fucktoy. What surprised her though was that her thoughts were not spiraling away to oblivion, but the back recesses of her brain. She would be fully aware of her surroundings but unable to act. Her programming would be in full control.
So beautiful
Lindi Lee Nunziato
@pslovemeriaa
Nice animation
You got to love Marge Simpson.
Where you headed?
So curious fellow bimbo freaks. Where it's everyone headed after tumblr puts their ban in place.
The strange heart-shaped pink box that arrived on her doorstep only had a single red bow on it. No idea what secret admirer had sent it, she decided to take it inside and see what she’d gotten. Inside was some scandalous lingerie. She giggled. It was very naughty, and she had to try it on.
After she did, she felt strange, she felt hot, burning. Her hair bleached white, then turned a candy pink as she grabbed the nearest thing she could straddle. Her tits overflowed the bra cups and the giggling set in. She didn’t know who had sent her such sexy lingerie, but she was looking forward to thanking them all night long.
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