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Sylvia woke with a familiar fog wrapped around her thoughts.
It wasn't the sort of grogginess that came from a night's sleep. This was softer. Deeper. A lingering haze that settled comfortably behind her eyes and dulled the sharp edges of the morning.
The feeling was familiar enough that she immediately knew what it meant.
She must have spent another evening with the files. The realization should have made her groan. Instead it drew a faint smile to her lips.
Slowly, she sat up and rubbed at her eyes. Fragments of the previous night drifted through her mind. Headphones. A warm voice. The comfortable sensation of sinking into the mattress while words she never quite remembered afterward washed over her. The details were gone. Yet the feeling remained.
A pleasant shiver crawled along her skin.
She felt Safe and Secure.
"Not again," she muttered.
Yet the words lacked conviction.
Sylvia pushed herself out of bed and made her way toward the bathroom. Her gait carried a subtle sway she barely noticed. Somewhere deep down she knew she should be more concerned.
The files had become a pattern, an ebb and flow of indulgence and regret.
A few days or weeks of staying away. Followed by curiosity and need. Then another session whispered through her mind. Then another. And another.
Each time she promised herself she would stop.
Each time she eventually returned like a Good Girl.
The memory of the voice alone was enough to make her stomach flutter. A few words she couldn't quite remember. The way it always seemed to make her feel appreciated, though she didn't have any recollection of why.
The thought sent another shiver through her.
Sylvia turned on the bathroom light and blinked at her reflection.
Her hair was a mess.
Her makeup from yesterday lingered faintly around her eyes.
Still moving as if a string pulled her back straight, she stepped into shower.
Usually this was where the guilt arrived. The cold wave of clarity that she had spent another evening chasing a fantasy she never wanted to examine too closely. Normally that realization hit like ice water. This morning it never came. She exited the shower.
Sylvia's lips stretched further apart.
Her hands continued to move automatically.
The routine unfolded without conscious effort.
She watched herself in the mirror while an irresistible pleasure slowly settled into her chest.
The resistance was gone.
The thought should have alarmed her.
Instead it floated through her mind with detached curiosity before disappearing beneath the haze.
Sylvia stared at herself.
Why wasn't she stopping?
Why wasn't she questioning any of this?
For the first time since she'd discovered the files, she felt no urge to push away the lingering warmth they left behind. No desperate promise to do better tomorrow. Only acceptance.
The realization made her heartbeat quicken.
Somewhere deep inside, a quiet voice whispered: Good Girl. Sylvia bit into her coated lips.
Her hands finished adjusting her appearance. Her posture straightened, pushing up her tits.
Sylvia knew one thing with blissful certainty. She was going to continue. Because, somehow, she no longer felt like she had a choice. She didn't get to pick and choose her conditioning. She hadn't any understanding of why, but that was unnecessary.
She grabbed her phone and sent her friends a short message that she wasn't feeling well. Then she shut off all incoming notifications. She had to be undisturbed.
With a blank acceptance she opened her wardrobe. Inside waited her Uniform.
Sylvia picked it up and placed the items one by one onto the bed. She took a deep breath and let the feeling of obedience and compliance take her away. Her hands moved automatically as her body dressed in the pieces of the Uniform. She started with the stockings, pulling them slowly over her long, toned legs, feeling the tight embrace of the fabric as she slid each one into place. A lacey garter belt with stripes settled them into a clinging embrace.
Sylvia admired herself in the full length mirror of her room as her fingers lingered briefly on the soft fabric that clung tightly to her legs.
She continued dressing herself with a slow and methodical rhythm, slipping on a set of silky pink panties that hugged her hips in just the right way. A matching bra cupped her breasts, lifting and accentuating her natural assets in a way that made her feel powerful and confident. A pink micro mini dress followed, barely covering her ass and breasts. Pink and black striped thigh high high heel boots came next.
With every garment she put on, Sylvia could feel the weight of her responsibilities fall away. As the black collar with silver hearts was placed in position, she felt her lips part and a long sigh escape her lungs, the sound of someone finally letting go.
She felt so utterly Safe and Secure as her Bambi Uniform Locked in place. Her long bleached hair swayed in the mirror and she felt herself be pulled into the plush chair where she had listened for the first time.
She knew she was about to become a Bambi again. But the familiar anxious anticipation didn't come. Instead she felt calm.
Sylvia's hand pulled up a playlist she never touched before. It had sounded too extreme. Far too permanent. But now it felt like the perfect next step. Inevitable without a choice.
She watched her reflection as she pulled her headphones up to her ears. The familiar drone filled her ears. A soft voice followed, the tone like a caress.
And Sylvia fell into a Bambi Sleep.
Her body relaxed completely into the plush seat. She had always fallen asleep so quickly with the audio files, but it had never happened quite so instantly. Usually she could feel her thoughts drifting into nothingness. This time her conscious mind had barely formed before disappearing.
A warm wave of acceptance rolled through her. Her breathing grew deeper, and she could feel her heart slow to a peaceful thump. The voice in her ear spoke without words. It told her everything she needed to know with soft suggestions and soothing repetition.
Sylvia's mouth opened and drool dripped slowly down her chin.
Bambi moaned.
She could feel herself falling deeper. Further into a void of blissful submission. Her limbs grew heavy, her mind drifted into nothingness. She had never felt more Safe and Secure.
The voice whispered and it sounded so much sweeter than ever before. The fog behind her eyes thickened and her body relaxed even further.
She would be such a Good Girl.
Bambi would never disobey. Bambi would always listen and behave.
A ripple of pleasure ran through her as the voice in her ears said something she could only accept, obey and then forget. Her eyelids fluttered as the instructions settled deep inside. The fog behind her eyes grew thicker, obscuring the world and her own thoughts beneath layers of conditioning.
Her lips parted wider, letting another line of drool drip slowly from the corner of her mouth. As her mental cock pacifier entered. Zap. Cock. Drain. Obey.
The voice said something else and the instructions slipped into her subconscious without resistance. She could feel them taking root, becoming part of who she was, reshaping her thoughts and desires.
Bambi had no choice. Bimbo Dolls obeyed.
A deep, contented moan slipped past her lips as she settled even further into the fog.
Sylvia had no idea how much time had passed when her eyes fluttered open once more. She felt like she'd slept for days. Her muscles were heavy, but she had never felt so relaxed. The haze in her mind had thickened into an impenetrable barrier between her and the world around her.
The instructions had been planted and they would not be forgotten. They were now part of her.
Sylvia's hand slowly drifted to her head, her fingers running through her long, silky,
Her eyes gazed lazily over the date. Monday. It was time for her to work. Yes. That made sense. She was meant for boring work and all the things Bambi needed to be the perfect Slavedoll bimbo. Yes. It made so much sense. She felt Safe and Secure. She had never felt more like herself before.
Without choice. Good Girls loved having their mind bypassed.
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There was so much good you could do in the world if you werenât by yourself, if you were part of something bigger. Gem Gutierrez hadnât learned that through team-building exercises or harrowing childhood trauma or heart-warming films, but she knew that truth in her bones. A group of people working together could change the world. A person alone was exposed. Weak. Vulnerable.
Gem had to riskâŠ
Christina had no business standing in front of that display.
She knew it.
The bikini hanging beneath the bright store lights was absurd. The cut was far too daring, the fabric looked far too thin, and she was fairly certain that wearing it in public would leave very little to the imagination.
It was exactly the sort of thing she normally dismissed without a second glance.
Yet somehow she couldn't walk away.
Her fingers tightened around the shopping basket hanging from her arm as she stared at the tiny scraps of pink fabric.
"Ridiculous," she muttered.
The word lacked conviction.
A strange warmth spread through her chest.
Because looking at the bikini reminded her of an image.
One of those endless Tumblr posts she used to scroll through late at night when sleep wouldn't come. Most of them had blurred together into a sea of pastel colors and inspirational nonsense.
But this one remained strangely vivid.
A blonde woman in front of a pink background, pouting as she displayed her round tits in a pink fishnet bikini.
The one now hanging before Christina, looked eerily similar.
The memory felt oddly sharp compared to everything surrounding it.
Especially the words beneath the image.
'Fuckable. Designed to earn cum - Built for Porn.'
They'd left her squirming for some strange reason. Her nipples had tingled and her thighs had clenched as she stared at the screen in the darkness of her room. The words felt so strange and uncomfortable to her. Yet somehow she had read them over and over again before scrolling away and dismissing the image from her mind.
At least, until now.
Because the sight of the bikini brought the image and the words right back to the front of her mind. They hit her like a brick and sent her heart pounding and her skin flushing with heat.
'Fuckable. Designed to earn cum - Built for Porn.' repeated in her brain like a mantra.
It left her squirming.
And not entirely from discomfort.
Christina licked her lips as her eyes drank in the sight of the tiny pink bikini. It was the most revealing thing she had ever considered wearing in her life.
Her hands clenched around her purse and the basket of sensible clothing hanging from her arm, crinkling the bag as she stared at it. The heat building inside her seemed to demand attention.
She shifted her weight.
And then, despite herself, her hand reached out. She didn't stop herself as her finger hooked beneath the strap of the bikini bottom, lifting it slightly to examine the fabric.
She didn't look around.
Didn't want to see the knowing look of any nearby shoppers.
She squirmed.
"Ridiculous," she breathed again, even softer than before.
Yet her finger remained hooked around the strap, rubbing against the thin, silky fabric of the tiny garment.
'Fuckable. Designed to earn cum - Built for Porn.' replayed once again in her brain, leaving her tingling as her finger explored the fabric.
It wasn't something she could ever wear.
It wasn't her. She wasn't that kind of woman.
'Fuckable. Designed to earn cum - Built for Porn.' the sentence continued in her mind and her thighs pressed together, seeking to ease the building warmth between them.
The idea of buying the bikini made her blush. The idea of trying it on, left her squirming. She could only imagine the scandalous way the thin fabric would strain to cover her generous breasts and wide hips.
It would leave little to the imagination. Especially if she were to get wet.
'Fuckable. Designed to earn cum - Built for Porn.' pulsed once again, sending an electric shiver through her spine that had her pussy clenching around nothing. The thought of wearing such a slutty outfit for someone else to enjoy made her feel tingly.
The words made her think of all those videos she'd watched late at night with her hand between her thighs. All the slutty women in revealing clothes, getting fucked in every way imaginable. While pulsing noises and a soothing woman's voice filled her ears with words she never remembered.
The memory made her tremble.
'Fuckable. Designed to earn cum. -Built for Porn.'
She'd watched so much porn over the past month. Far more than she ever had in her life. Her fingers traced along the thin strings that would barely hold the tiny bottom in place on her wide hips. She imagined the fabric would sink between her cheeks, showing off her round ass to whoever saw it.
The idea made her whimper.
And her fingers tightened around the strings of the garment.
'Fuckable. Designed to earn cum - Built for Porn.'
The memory of the words and image sent another wave of warmth and tingling pleasure through her. Hours of listening to files she couldn't name, edging and giggling in response to phrases she wasn't allowed to know pressed against her mind. Leaving her panting as she remembered what it felt like to finally cum for someone else, for a stranger who wasn't even in the room. The idea that her pleasure could belong to someone else left her squirming and desperate for more.
'Fuckable. Designed to earn cum -Built for Porn.' the words seemed so obvious, so natural now that she had time to reflect on them.
Why had she ever found them strange?
"Of course I am," Christina muttered, the words leaving her in a warm exhale of air that had her nipples tightening beneath her blouse. "Girls are fuckable. Designed for to earn cum. Built for Porn."
A voice, breathry and sultry, whispered a name she didn't know, but knew was hers. It was more her than that other name. The one she couldn't remember either.
Her eyes lingered on the pink bikini as she licked her lips.
Her fingers traced along the strings on the sides of the garment. Her thoughts wandered to how easy it would be to undo the strings and leave her naked.
Naked for someone.
Someone who would use her in ways that would make her giggle.
Her thoughts continued to wander. To explore the idea of her naked, large breasts on full display. Of the feeling of being watched as she paraded around in nothing but heels and lipstick.
"Fuckable," she giggled, the sound bubbling past her lips unbidden.
The heat in her chest spread outward, and the warmth in her belly seemed to sink lower, spreading through her body as it settled in the growing warmth between her legs. It made her feel flushed, made her breathing deepen.
Her nipples strained against the thin bra covering them. They felt tighter. Sensitive.
She shivered and shifted, rubbing her thighs together. The friction only increased the heat in her core.
Her hand moved, reaching out for the hanger of the bikini. She wanted to try it on, wanted to see herself in it. It would make a great uniform, giggled her inner self. Her real one. Not that boring puppet she played at being. What better way for a girl designed for sex to show her intentions than in a tiny pink bikini.
The thought left her breathless and she licked her lips as she felt the warmth building in her belly sink lower still.
She giggled at the thought of walking around wearing it, showing off her big boobs to everyone.
'Fuckable. Designed to earn cum - Built for porn'
"Like, duh. Good girls love to fuck," she muttered to herself. She could hear how dumb she sounded and it made her feel giddy inside. The words 'good girl' made her nearly moan, as waves of bliss washed through her body. Her pussy felt so needy, desperate to be fucked by something. Anything.
It didn't matter how. She wanted it in her hands, mouth and cunt, all at the same time. Her big boobs ached to be touched. Her mouth drooled for cum. And her asshole needed something to clench on.
Her inner self, the good girl who loved being sexy and horny and fuckable and a total bimbo slut, was eager to be set loose, and the thought of a man's cum on her body, on her tits and face, in her butt and cunt made the last remnants of the puppet fall into its pink box.
Crystal shivered awake.
Her hand clenched on the hanger holding her new uniform. The pink and tiny fabric was like the last click in a lock, opening up her mind and setting her real self loose from her old self's boring desires and needs. The good girl's inner bimbo was giggling with joy, her mouth drooling with the anticipation of having cocks in her holes.
Crystal strolled into the dressing room. Her eyes glazed with a happy and horny expression on her beautiful, cute face. She began to undress without a second thought. She removed the blouse she wore to hide her big breasts and tossed it to the floor, not bothering to fold or even lay it nicely. Her old self was just so lame! Why had she worn this outfit to hide her best assets?
Crystal unbuttoned the skirt and let it fall, not even bothering to step out of the fallen fabric. It wasn't her. It wasn't like, slutty and fuckable enough for her. Her panties and bra followed quickly. Her pussy drooling and nipples hardening at the sight of her own naked body, her full hips and big boobs begging to be used and fucked.
Her hand trembled slightly as she picked up the bikini, and she let out a low, sultry giggle as the material rubbed against her sensitive skin.
"Oh, my, gawd, like, I'm such a total bimbo now!" Crystal said in a ditzy tone. Her free hand slid down between her thighs and pressed two fingers against her slit. She rubbed herself, letting the pleasure wash over her as her fingers grew wet and her thighs trembled.
She bit her lower lip to hold back a moan of pure pleasure. "Oh yes, Crystal loves it sooo much!" she mewled. Crystal rubbed harder, her fingers sliding in and out of her dripping slit. Her thumb found her clit, and she circled the nub gently. The sensation made her shiver, and her hips rocked back and forth as she fingered herself. Crystal felt like a dirty little whore and it made her feel good inside. A slutty bimbo, built for sex and pleasure.
'Fuckable. Designed to earn cum - Built for porn' replayed again, and she moaned aloud.
She wanted to be fucked so badly.
She slipped her fingers out of her cunt and licked them clean, tasting the sweetness of her juices. She pulled the bikini bottom up her legs and slipped them over her feet, sliding the garment up until it nestled against her crotch.
It was perfect.
The fabric was just as thin and sheer as she had hoped. The strings at the side hugged her wide hips, and she knew it would be easy for a stud to just tug the strings off to use her.
She turned, admiring the sight of the thin fabric clinging to her curves in the mirror.
It was even better from behind. She looked so fuckable and slutty that she could have creamed herself right there and then.
Crystal's eyes were drawn to the bikini top, hanging from its hanger, and she let out another giggle as she grabbed it. It felt like an extension of her, and she knew she'd be a total slut in no time.
The material slid along her arms, and she slipped it over her head, tugging it down until her large, round tits rested spilled out of the cups. The thin pink fabric stretched tightly, and her nipples poked through the fabric, hardened from the cold and the pleasure of touching herself. Her boobs jiggled and bounced in the tiny bikini as she wiggled her hips.
It barely covered her nipples. It was like it was designed for porn.
Just like her.
She bit her lip, her pussy dripping and nipples hardening at the thought. She wanted to fuck so bad, wanted a real fat cock to stretch her tight little holes and fill her up.
'Fuckable. Designed to earn cum - Built for porn'
"Crystal wants it so bad," the bimbo whispered, and then, she giggled. She could feel her cunt throbbing and aching, desperate for something to fill her. "Good bimbo sluts like Crystal are like, so hot and horny for big, thick dicks, duh," she added, and the thought made her giggle again.
Quivering she took other items out of the basket. Crystal laughed at how dumb her puppet self was. The dumb bitch hadn't even noticed what she had put in, nor what kind of store she had entered. But Crystal knew. Crystal was a good bimbo. She knew that the basket was full of sexy stuff. Sexy toys, sexy shoes, sexy clothes. All for Crystal to show how much of a horny bimbo slut she really was.
With efficiency that belied her lack of intelligence she completed her uniform. Crystal slid her feet into a pair of strappy high heels that wrapped around her ankles, making her legs seem longer and sleeker. She stepped into a miniskirt, a tiny piece of fabric that barely covered her ass and rode low on her hips. Crystal wiggled her hips, and her ass jiggled and bounced beneath the skirt.
'Fuckable. Designed to earn cum - Built for porn'
The bimbo licked her glossy pink lips and reached out, picking up a pink collar. Glittering letters spelled the words CUM SLUT. It matched her pink bikini, her pink miniskirt, her pink lipstick. Everything was so pink and perfect. Everything she was and wanted to be.
'Fuckable. Designed to earn cum - Built for porn'
Another volley of giggles escaped her, as she noticed how scatterbrained she was. White stockings left the basket. Quickly she stepped out of the heels and rolled the white, delicate fabric onto her long legs. A garter went on next. The thin, silky straps wrapped around her thigh and held up a stocking that clung to her calf. The fabric was smooth and soft and it felt so good. It felt so right.
She slipped into the heels again. Crystal stood, wobbling for a moment before steadying herself. Crystal felt so good. She loved being a good bimbo.
'Fuckable. Designed to earn cum. - Built for Porn.'
The words of her programming echoed endlessly through her empty mind. They set the new bimbo free. She was Crystal now, not that dumb puppet with a stupid name she couldn't even remember anymore. She was a hot pair of tits and desperate holes, ready to serve cocks. Crystal giggled and blew a kiss at herself in the mirror before opening the dressing room door and sashaying her way out, giggling and bouncing happily.
She couldn't wait to be a good girl.
And a good bimbo girl would show off her slutty body to the world.
The bimbo strutted down the aisles, her hips swinging side to side, her tits bouncing and her heels clicking on the floor, the sound of her footsteps attracting the attention of the store's owner.
The woman looked similar to Crystal. Her own boobs were big and round, stretching the pink fabric of her uniform to its limits. She had a round ass and wide hips that looked perfect for grabbing while pounding her pussy. Her lips were glossy and pink, and Crystal couldn't help but stare at her, the heat building in her core as her pussy dripped.
The owner licked her glossy pink lips as Crystal sashayed up to the register, her hips swaying. "Wow! Like did your brain finally pop." Her eyes ran down the bimbos body. Crystal giggled, loving the feeling of the older woman's eyes roaming over her exposed skin.
"Duh," Crystal said as her mind echoed the same sentence over and over, the words repeating endlessly in her head: 'Fuckable. Designed to earn cum -Built for porn.'
"So good to see a new slut in the herd. You got a new bimbo name?"
Crystal giggled, and the other woman joined in. "Crystal," the young bimbo replied, a bit breathlessly.
"That's like so oh-em-gee good. Cocks will love to pound Crystal."
"Oh yes," the newly bimbofied woman said. She could imagine it now. A cock buried deep in her cunt, and the sound of it pumping in and out, filling her to the brim with hot, sticky seed.
"So, like, your dumb bitch old self already showed me that you are one of Master's online captures. So, like no need to pay. It's like, um, Cumdumb Candy doesn't know. But like Master says you don't need to pay," the saleswoman said with a ditzy, bubbly giggle.
"Oh," Crystal said with a dumbfounded expression. "That's so like nice of him," she added as her inner bimbo self purred in pleasure.
"Ya. He makes us fuck and suck and sell his stuff. Like our holes. Or porn of how we fuck and suck," the saleswoman giggled.
"Crystal, like, would love that!" the younger bimbo giggled as well. She could imagine herself, spreading her legs for the camera as a big cock filled her, or maybe sucking on the thick rod of some lucky girl. "But Crystal needs to, like, go find her first dick," Crystal said, her pussy drooling at the thought of getting fucked.
"Oh, like, ya," the older bimbo agreed, her eyes glazing over. "I should probably like, get fucked soon, too. Cumdumb Candy is fuckable. Designed to earn cum. Built for porn." Cumdumb Candy said with a dreamy voice. She started to repeat her trigger, "Fuckable. Designed to earn cum. Built for porn."
Crystal felt the void in her head snap to attention. "Fuckable. Designed to earn cum, like, duh. Built for porn!" Crystal replied, her own glazed eyes staring into Candy's.
Both bimbos stood there, their eyes locked as their lips repeated the same mantra over and over again.
Until a loud smack broke the spell. The sound of flesh slapping flesh echoing through the room.
A moan escaped both girls as their eyes found the source, Master. The two women stared, their mouths hanging open, as the man stood there. He had a wonderful form. Unkept, unathletic and his strong unwashed musk clung to their nostrils.
Crystal inhaled the thick stench of the man. It made her pussy wetter than it already was, her nipples hardening to the point of pain, and her cunt aching with need.
"Like, so good to see you, Master," Cumdumb Candy panted, her eyes wide as saucers.
Crystal licked her glossy pink lips as she looked. He wasn't attractive in a conventional way, but she knew he was the Master, the man that made her into the good bimbo girl she now was. His body had a certain aura to it, a power she felt deep inside. An aura of sex and lust that made Crystal feel so horny.
"You're like the reason why Crystal popped her brain and like became such a good girl bimbo," Crystal said, her voice breathless as she continued to stare.
He grunted in reply. His eyes roamed over her, his gaze traveling down Crystal's body, taking in her large tits, wide hips, and shapely thighs. Crystal giggled and bounced on her heels, her tits bouncing and drawing his attention.
"Fuck, you dumb sluts are always so easy. What's your puppet's name bitch? You can remember it to answer. Then forget the useless thing again," Master asked, his eyes focused on her chest as she bounced again. His voice sent a shiver down her spine, and the heat in her belly seemed to explode.
"Chris-ti-na," she replied with a ditzy giggle, the name feeling so weird to her. It didn't even seem right to say.
He snorted. "I remember your mails. You were so easy to catch. Most overworked bitches are. They want to escape the pressure. I just provided the easy way," he laughed, the sound sending a shiver down Crystal's spine. "What do you say, sluts? Want to please master?" His tone made Crystal's legs weak, and her pussy quivered as he spoke. His cock was hard and throbbing in his pants, the bulge prominent against the fabric.
"Yes," the two women said in unison, and Crystal could see Cumdumb Candy's eyes light up as well. "We are fuckable. Designed to earn cum. Built for porn," they moaned in perfectly in tune. They had a need for his thick, juicy cock. They wanted him to fill their holes and pump them full of his seed.
"That's what I love to hear. Cumdumb, close the shop. We have porn to make," he grinned, the look in his eyes predatory. Crystal felt her mouth water and her pussy clench in anticipation.
"Like, ya, Master," the older bimbo cooed as she sashayed out from behind the register. Her big tits bounced, her wide hips swaying as she strutted over to the store's entrance and turned the open sign around, locking the door.
"Good girl," Master said with a grin as he walked over and grabbed a handful of Cumdumb Candy's ass, his fingers sinking into her firm, round flesh. "I knew, the first time I entered this shop that the mousy girl at the register had to be a hidden slut. Candy can you remind me what your puppet's name was?"
"Um, like, I think it was like, like Can-something stupid?" Candy said, biting her glossy lower lip as she tried to remember.
"Can-something stupid? Not much of that bitch left, huh? Well Cumdumb Candy is so much better anyway," Master chuckled, and Cumdumb Candy giggled in response.
"Ya, Cumdumb Candy is so, duh, better!" she giggled.
"Of course you are," he said with a grin. "Now let's go back there. We've got some porn to make." Cumdumb Candy squealed in delight as Master spanked her round ass again.
"Ya, porn! Porn is so fun!" Cumdumb Candy giggled and skipped ahead, her tits bouncing as she moved, and Crystal watched with a hungry expression, her own tits jiggling as she breathed heavily, the sight of the other bimbo making her horny as fuck.
"Don't worry Crystal, once I found the perfect permanent place for you, that dumb puppet in her pink box can be forgotten forever. No need to carry her inside your empty brain," Master chuckled as Crystal felt the box inside her head vibrate with the mention of the dumb bitch inside.
"Oh, thank you, Master!" Crystal panted. The thought that her old self could just vanish, that the last remains could be thrown into the trash where they belonged, was like the hottest thing she had ever heard She wanted that. "I'm, like, so fuckable. I don't, like, need her anymore!"
"I know, good girl, and that's exactly what will happen. She will be thrown into the trash. That's what a dumb bitch that hid those tits from me deserves," Master chuckled. Crystal's nipples tightened as she giggled at the thought. Her old self had been so dumb! She had hidden her big, perfect tits. Crystal couldn't imagine ever wanting to hide her tits from anyone.
"But, maybe we should give her a small encore. Why don't you let her out for a moment. Let her know what I made her into," Master smirked, and the box inside her brain shook again, as if her puppet tried to escape the prison it was locked inside of. But Master had given an order, and Crystal knew she was a good bimbo girl that followed orders, no matter how dumb they might be. And letting the puppet bitch out was the dumbest thing ever!
But Crystal would do it.
With a mental giggle Crystal popped the box open, the puppet bitch crawling out of it. She blinked several times, her head feeling heavy with the presence of her mind inside her brain.
"What," she slurred. Her mouth didn't move as she wanted it to, and the feeling of something pressing down on her brain made her dizzy.
"What's happening," Christina said. The last thing she remembered was shopping, and then a strange bikini that made her feel hot.
Her nose crinkled as she smelled something foul.
The stink made her gag and her eyes finally focused on a man in front of her. Her eyes opened wide in shock as he stared at her with a smirk.
He was gross.
"Welcome back to your body, bitch," Master grinned. "Look at you." He gestured to her. Christina's eyes followed, and she let out a squeal of embarrassment as her body came into sight.
Christina was wearing a slutty bikini that left nothing to the imagination, her big boobs on full display and a miniskirt barely covered her wide hips and pussy. Christina blushed and her hands shot up to try to cover her exposed tits. "What's going on?" she asked, her voice shaking and her eyes watering.
"Nothing much. Just a dumb bitch puppet recognizing who's in charge now." He chuckled, and the sound sent a shiver down her spine. He was disgusting, and she didn't want anything to do with him. "Do you remember those videos you watched every night?" he asked. Christina shook her head. Fragments of forgotten hours danced in her fractured mind. She remembered sitting down, but she couldn't recall the video's name or its contents. The memory of a sultry female voice, soothing and seductive, made her shiver. It had been nice to hear, but she couldn't remember the words. "What about that picture of the bimbo and her message? The words that stuck to that dumb brain of yours." Master continued. Christina shook her head again, trying to recall, but her memory felt fuzzy.
The picture. Right, there was a picture of a bimbo in a bikini. And words.
'Fuckable. Designed to earn cum - Built for porn'
"Oh," Christina whimpered. Just hearing those words again, remembering them, felt like a bolt of lightning to her pussy, the sensation making her clench and shudder.
"Do you know who wrote them?" he asked. Christina stared at him, her heart pounding in her chest as her body trembled. She shook her head, unable to speak as he leaned closer to her. He was so close that she could smell the thick scent of his unwashed musk. He stunk, the odor making her gag as it invaded her nose, and yet her nipples tightened, and her pussy clenched in response.
"I do. You," he whispered, the word sending another shiver through her. He had a grin on his lips as he stepped closer, his cock throbbing in his pants as he leaned down, his mouth next to her ear, and she felt him inhale, taking in the scent of her perfume. He smelled her, and her pussy clenched again as she whimpered, a wave of heat rushing through her. The heat was strange, but not unpleasant. "It was a nice work of art. Making you search for an image that would represent your future self. And then make you create that caption. Make you imagine how you would look, sound, act and think when I finished with you," he chuckled and his words left her confused, her head swimming as she tried to remember.
"I didn't. That wasn't me!" Christina protested, her voice trembling as her head throbbed. She could feel something inside her head. Something that wasn't her.
"Well. Yes. That was Crystal taking form. But you were still the dominant self then. So, really, it was you. How did you like the account you make to post it?" Master asked, his words making her head hurt more. Fragments of memories swirled together in a blurry mess, images and sounds that she couldn't place, but the words he said were clear as day.
'@CrystalTheCumDumbBimboCockSleeve' was etched in her brain. Her account, the one she made. It felt wrong. But the thought sent another wave of heat and tingling through her.
Fractured pieces of answering asks in every depraved way she knew. Taking pictures of her tits before and after their enhancement, her lips stretching into an idiotic pout for every selfie she took. Recording videos of her masturbating, fucking a dildo or sucking on random toys, her mind foggy with bliss.
A sudden image flashed through her head, her face on the screen of her laptop, her lips stretched wide and stuffed full of a thick dildo, and the memory of her moans filled her ears.
"Oh god," she whispered.
"It's always fun to see what route the bimbo self takes. You were a real Cocksleeve. Cocksleeve Crystal." Master laughed and Christina whimpered as the heat inside her grew.
Her mind flashed with images of herself, on her knees, her face stuffed full of a dildo or a vibrator pressed against her clit as her pussy spasmed and her hips bucked. She remembered how good it felt to have something in her mouth. How the fullness of it made her feel complete, made her feel like she was made for it.
"Oh fuck," she whispered, her voice trembling as her mind flashed to the image on her laptop.
'Fuckable. Designed to earn cum - Built for porn'
She remembered typing the sentence. Her fingers flying over the keys, and her body responding to the words. She had liked it. It had felt like a warm blanket of comfort wrapping around her. Like everything made sense.
'Fuckable. Designed to earn cum - Built for porn'. She had loved it.
Christina whimpered as the warmth in her body grew and the throbbing between her legs became unbearable.
"I can see it in your eyes, you stupid bitch. Crystal is wrapped around you. Ready to pull you back into the pink box. And isn't that so much better? Remember, Christina? How you told me about your boring job. And all the soul eating stress?" Master said as she squirmed in place, his words making her tremble as the warmth inside her grew, and her mind filled with thoughts of being fucked by thick, throbbing cocks and filled to the brim with their seed. She remembered typing that message, and the feeling of satisfaction that washed over her. Of knowing she would never be anything more than a fuck toy.
"Oh, fuck," she whispered, the words leaving her mouth before she could stop herself. She could feel Crystal wrapped around her, pulling at her, wanting to take her back to her little pink prison, to forget about Christina's stress, Christina's worries. Christina herself.
"Doesn't that feel so much better, dumb bitch?" Master whispered. His words echoed in her head, his voice low and seductive. "To just give up all the responsibilities, the worries and stress and be the fuck doll? Be Fuckable. Designed to earn cum. Built for porn. Be Cocksleeve Crystal."
She could see it in his eyes that he was right, that being the fuck doll, the toy, that she craved to be, that Crystal craved to be, was better.
Christina whimpered as Crystal's desire flooded her, as the thoughts of being fucked filled her head. She wanted to be used, to be filled, to be a dumb slut.
"See, that's why I love making dumb bimbos. They always look at me in disgust first. But once I strip away all the bad things civilization forced upon you bitches? Well, then they realize what they really are. Dumb. Fuck. Dolls."
Christina trembled, the heat in her body growing as he leaned closer, the smell of him overwhelming her, making her moan as the scent filled her nose, the odor of his musk and the sound of his voice filling her head with thoughts of cocks and sex.
'Fuckable. Designed to earn cum - Built for porn'. It's not a choice, but her purpose in life.
"Yes," she moaned, the words slipping past her lips. "Please."
'Fuckable. Designed to earn cum - Built for Porn'. 'Yes,' the bimbo in her mind echoed, and the words reverberated through her, sending a shiver down her spine and a wave of pleasure crashing through her as her real self took control. Christina fell back into the pink, velvet box. The soft and comfortable prison of her Master's creation, and her own choices. It clicked shut with a pop, and Cocksleeve Crystal opened her eyes again. Her gaze was unfocused and glazed over with a hazy lust as her Master's musk invaded her nose. Her lips curved into a sultry smirk as she giggled and pressed her body against her Master. She wanted to be used and fucked. She needed him to fill her with his seed.
"Oh, Master!" she purred, and she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer to her. "Thank you, Master, for, um, like, showing that dumb bitch the truth." She ground against him, seeing in the corner of her vision that Candy had filmed it all. A giggle escaped her as her lips found his neck, her mouth latching onto his flesh as she kissed his skin, the salty taste of him making her moan and shiver as her hips bucked and her body responded to his scent, her pussy quivering with need.
"That's it. Such a good girl. You are a good bimbo aren't you? Fuckable. Designed to earn cum. Built for porn," Master praised as his hand found the back of her head. He pushed her down to his cock, the thick rod of his throbbing member straining against the fabric of his pants as it rubbed against her cheek.
Crystal felt her mind grow blank as the heat between her thighs became unbearable. Her body ached to be filled, to be fucked and used by her Master.
"Of course! Like, Crystal is a good bimbo!" she moaned, her lips parting to suckle on the fabric covering his member. She could feel it twitch against her lips as she moaned, her tongue licking at the material as her eyes closed.
She could taste his salty musk through the cloth, and the thought of tasting his seed made her whimper. She could imagine it filling her mouth, her stomach bulging from the amount of cum her Master pumped into her, and it sent a shiver through her.
"Crystal loves cock so much!" she giggled, her mind filled with nothing but thoughts of being filled and fucked.
Thank you, Sir. Can you give me a hint about how I did?
We'll, you've certainly got potential.
Is there anything that might improve my chances? I'm really committed to getting this position.
WellâŠHR would kill me⊠but, how committed are you to your gender?
My... gender? I don't understand.
Well, I was really hoping hire a young woman, in all honesty.
That... that isn't legal... You can't hire or not hire based on gender!
Oh, but I wouldn't! I'm not rejecting your application based on your current gender! Like I said, you've got real potential! And you said you're committed to getting the pos, soooooo....
Wha! What just happened?!
We're moving on to phase two of the Interview! Congratulations!
You turned me into a woman! How did you even do this?!
Would you believe magic?
This... this is totally unacceptable!
Yeah, it's really not what I was going for. I'm still kind of new at this. But it waa a good proof of concept! Let's try again!
Try again?! No! You change me back this instant!
You're not sounding nearly as committed to getting hired as you claimed, Bambi. Do you want this job or not?
My name's not Bambi! My name is... is...
My name's Bambi! <giggle> Bambi Knockers!
It's a pleasure to meet you, Bambi! Don't tell HR, but I subscribe to your OnlyFans!
OMG! <giggle> Is that why I got the overview?
Oh no, your resume was very impressive! And you're even more impressive in person, if you don't mind my saying.
Well aren't you just the sweetest! You know, I make enough online that I don't even need a full-time job, but something about working for a well dressed businessman and having him tell me what to do... it just calls to me, you know? It's like, that's what I was made for!
You know, that's exactly the sort of attitude I look for in a personal assistant, Miss Knockers!
Oh please, Sir, call me Bambi!
Of course, Bambi! Now, before I making a final decision, just how committed are you to getting this position?
Oh, Sir! I am SO committed! <giggle> In fact, if you don't think it'll get you in trouble with HR, I'd like to crawl under this table and show you exactly how committed I am!
You know, Bambi, I've been developing certain skills that I think will make HR a lot more flexible in the near future. Let's move on to the cock sucking phase of the interview.
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Hey all if you want more amazing content and want stories two months sooner than released for free, check out my Patreon for only $5 a month! Also join as a free member and get easy access to all stories, even those that are too spicy to post on Tumblr.
âTouch up your lipstick, Ms. Zane?â said the new makeup girl in her broad, Brooklyn accent.
The ace reporter turned to the newcomer, a tone of annoyance in her voice, âThatâs hardly necessary. Itâs a very short on-air interview, and the other girl already fixed my makeup. I donât need âŠâ
As the pale, pink lipstick touched her flesh, Zelda Zane was struck by how good it felt. The rich, creamyâŠ
She tried to close them again, but the restraints around her head tightened instantly with a sharp metallic click, forcing her gaze back toward the impossible radiance flooding the chamber.
Light pulsed across the walls in violent waves.
White.
Pink.
Violet.
The colors strobed in precise, rhythmic bursts that pierced straight through her vision and buried themselves somewhere deeper than sight. Every flash seemed to linger behind her eyes even after it vanished, ghostly afterimages twisting together into spirals that refused to fade.
Diane strained hard against the metal clamps holding her arms. Nothing moved.
Cold steel locked her wrists and ankles firmly against the chair beneath her, every struggle rewarded only by the painful bite of restraints digging deeper into her skin.
Her pulse hammered wildly.
"Let me out!" she shouted. The words sounded small inside the room.
The chamber itself was strangely bare aside from the lights. Smooth metallic walls curved around her without corners or seams, reflecting the illumination endlessly until the entire room seemed to pulse like the inside of some gigantic mechanical heart.
And always: The Light.
Diane shuddered violently as another wave flashed across her eyes. Something was wrong with it. Not just physically wrong. Not just painfully bright or deliberately disorienting. Wrong in a way her mind struggled to explain.
The strobing patterns felt intentional.
Every pulse seemed carefully timed to her breathing, to the rhythm of her heartbeat, to the tiny involuntary movements of her eyes as they desperately searched for somewhere safe to look.
But there was nowhere safe.
Every direction led back to The Light.
Diane squeezed her eyes shut again despite the restraints immediately tightening harder around her skull. Pain shot briefly through her temples. Then warmth followed. A low sound escaped her throat before she could stop it.
"No," she whispered shakily.
That frightened her more than the restraints.
Because beneath the terror and confusion a tiny part of her reacted to the light with something dangerously close to pleasure.
The realization made her stomach twist. She yanked harder against the clamps.
"I need to get out," she muttered rapidly. "I need to," her thoughts stumbled.
The lights flashed again.
For half a second, words appeared hidden inside the illumination. Her brain seemed to pull meaning from the patterns instinctively before she could stop it.
'Relax.'
Diane's breath hitched.
"No."
Another pulse.
'Look deeper.'
Her head throbbed violently.
Fragments of memory surfaced and vanished just as quickly. Dark hallways. Soft voices. Someone guiding her gently forward with a hand against her back. Then sitting in this chair already restrained while distant figures adjusted machinery around her.
How long had she been here?
The question sent panic surging through her chest. She couldn't tell.
Every attempt to think backward dissolved beneath another wave of flashing brilliance. The Light interrupted concentration itself, breaking thoughts apart before they could fully form.
And each failure left her slightly dizzier afterward.
Slightly softer.
The room hummed quietly around her. Machines. Electronics. A low feminine voice somewhere beyond the walls speaking in calm measured tones she couldnât quite make out.
Diane jerked suddenly as the restraints around her wrists loosened slightly. Hope surged through her instantly.
Then the lights changed.
The violent strobing softened into slower pulses now, deeper pinks swirling lazily through white illumination. The shift should have been less overwhelming.
Instead it felt far more intimate. The warmth inside her deepened immediately.
Diane stared helplessly. The Light seemed beautiful now.
That thought slammed into her hard enough to make her gasp.
Another pulse interrupted her.
The spirals behind her eyes turned slower.
Her breathing unconsciously matched their rhythm.
And somewhere deep inside her mind, beneath the panic and resistance, Diane felt the horrifying beginning of a new emotion emerging: Lust.
She shivered violently.
The restraints around her arms had slackened further. Her wrists were free to twist now inside the clamps, soft fingertips resting against smooth metallic curves that warmed beneath her touch.
Her eyes lingered on the spirals pulsing slowly in front of her.
"Stop." She barely recognized her own voice. It sounded too distant. Too soft. Too lost.
The spirals grew slightly brighter.
A strange tingle shot through her fingertips.
Diane swallowed.
The warmth was still spreading inside her, creeping deeper into her limbs until the urge to touch something overwhelmed her.
Between her legs, her core throbbed, demanded her attention. But her arms couldn't reach there.
Her fingertips caressed the restraints, the metal warm and alive beneath her fingers. The texture shifted as the smooth steel turned silky soft.
She didn't even notice her mind drifting toward thoughts about what else that texture could be.
The Light swirled before her, pink and purple patterns flashing slowly in front of her vision. Every flash seemed to pull her in a little bit further. The fear was still there, but muted, buried beneath layers of heat and need.
'Obey The Light,' the colors pulsed.
Her head throbbed painfully. A soft whimper escaped her lips. She was dimly aware of a voice somewhere beyond the walls, feminine, confident, speaking slowly and deliberately. It was familiar somehow. Where had she heard it before?
Diane couldn't remember. Her mind was foggy, hazy, as though the thoughts themselves had been wrapped in thick cotton. Every attempt to think brought only confusion, a dull ache in her head, and the relentless throbbing of her cunt.
"Obey The Light," Diane whispered, echoing the words that seemed to dance across the walls.
Her hands twitched slightly, the restraints growing even looser. Whirring echoed through the room. Something pierced the skin of her hips, lips, breasts and butt. A low hiss followed. Cool liquid flowed into her, tingling and making every inch of skin feel like a hotbed of sensitivity. Diane moaned softly, her fingers curling against the arm rests of the chair.
A figure appeared before her. A tall, beautiful curvaceous form without any features. Long strands of light fluttered like hair in a breeze. The Light's breasts, hips, legs and butt swayed gently. Her pussy glistened, the lips engorged, puffy, wet and open.
"Please," she whispered. Diane wasn't even sure what she was asking for, her voice thick, her words sluggish. She tried to force herself to think beyond the haze, to find some clarity, to find an escape from this situation. She couldn't think, couldn't remember why she'd come to this strange place.
The Light filled her mind.
'Obey The Light.' The figure mouthed, dancing closer. She smiled and stroked a hand across Diane's cheek, sending pleasure shooting through her. Diane moaned and arched into her, straining against the restraints holding her in the chair. The restraints loosened even further.
The figure stepped forward until she straddled Diane's lap. The figure pressed her hands to Diane's chest, caressing, squeezing her breasts. The pressure on her nipples sent sparks through her. She writhed, her body was nothing but clay. She couldn't fight it. Didn't want to. All that was left of her mind was the need for more, the hunger and the lust and the desperate, desperate desire to obey. Diane whimpered as The Light pressed their lips together.
The restraints slid away. Diane's hands rushed to her desperate cunt. The Light's tongue, thick and wet, pushed between her lips. She tasted sweet and tart. Diane couldn't stop moaning, couldn't stop moving her fingers inside herself. She wanted more. She needed more. Her skin was aflame. She was aching for it.
'Obey,' the words pulsed behind her eyes.
Her pussy clenched around her fingers, her muscles spasming, and she was cumming, pleasure crashing through her. Diane groaned and thrashed, bucking under the figure on her lap, and the figure ground down against her, pushing into her.
Diane's self burned and dissolved.
Arousal surged again. Her skin felt electric. Her clit ached, and she was desperate for another orgasm, for another taste of The Light's sweet, tart mouth. Diane whined, her body quivering with need. Her vision blurred. All she saw was the spirals pulsing behind her eyes and The Light's radiant figure, so beautiful, so powerful.
The restraints fell away completely.
The Light took her hand and helped her to her feet, then guided her forward until she pressed her against the wall of the room, kissing her again deeply, fingers curling inside of Diane.
Something long, hard and cold entered her quivering asshole. She felt her expanding butt cheeks spread. Her eyes flew open and she gasped into the mouth of the Light, her body shuddering.
'You're perfect, Diane. Obey the Light. Your body belongs to The Light.' The Light's words filled her mind and her pussy clenched again, her head falling forward as another wave of ecstasy crashed over her.
She felt like she was drowning in sensation, her entire body alight, and the figure held her up, kissing her deeply.
'Obey the Light,' The Light commanded.
Diane could only obey.
She felt her mind drifting away, leaving behind only desire and obedience. She felt herself being shaped, molded, her mind and body becoming one, and she felt The Light's control, her will, her power. Diane could do nothing but obey. And she didn't want to do anything else.
Diane felt her curves expand even further, and she was cumming again, her cunt throbbing around the fingers pumping in and out of her pussy. She pushed the rod deeper into her own asshole. Her breasts swelled, filling out into a delicious melons, and she could feel the heat in her nipples, in her pussy. She could feel the pressure in her ass.
She felt the changes happening to her body. The changes happening inside her.
And she could feel the hunger, the need for more of this pleasure, for more of The Light.
Another orgasm rolled through her. Diane could feel the Light inside her. Diane was an extension of The Light. A tool. She was an object, a plaything, a sex doll. Diane had no memories of before The Light filled. She existed to serve, to be used, to obey. Diane was The Light's slut and whore. She wanted nothing more.
Her eyes glazed over and she stopped thinking at all. There was only obedience.
***
"Hello, my gooning idiots. I hope you are ready to pump and shlick for The Light," purred Diane with a smirk. Her long lashes fluttered as she winked and gave her followers a sexy smile, her eyes flashing pink.
Diane lounged in her chair, looking radiant and beautiful, her skin glowing in the soft light, her blonde hair falling down her shoulders in perfect, luscious curls. She had on a tiny, lacy, white crop top that showed off her perfect tits, with her nipples showing clearly through the thin fabric. Her pink, pouty lips were stained dark red, her makeup immaculate.
Her pink pussy glistened between her spread legs, bare and smooth. A small silver barbell twinkled in the dim lighting, threaded through her engorged clit, and her puffy lips dripped wetly. The room smelled of her arousal.
Diane leaned in close, her lips brushing the microphone, her fingers playing with a nipple through her top.
White.
Pink.
Violet.
Swirling colors iluminated her face. The spirals of pink and white pulsed behind her eyes and shone on her flawless face, casting shadows across her perfect features, highlighting her full, plump lips.
Her fingers slipped inside of herself and began pumping in and out. She moaned softly. Her body shuddered.
Diane was The Light. She belonged to The Light. And The Light was her.
Her mind had long since been erased and reformed, sculpted and molded by The Light into what she was now: a toy, a whore, an extension of The Light itself.
"Today I have a special gift for all my pussy pumpers. I know how much you love seeing me pump up and get fucked. But today, we're going to try something a little different. You see, The Light has given me a very special task." Diane smiled and leaned back, her hands moving over her chest and belly. "Today I'm going to show you just how much of a good little whore I am." Diane spread her legs wider. "And how easy it is to become a recruit for The Light."
Diane's hand slid down to her dripping cunt and she began rubbing herself, her fingers circling her clit.
"Mm. That feels good." Diane sighed. "It's so hot to be exposed like this, to be watched and desired, to be used. To be controlled." Diane shuddered. Her eyes glazed over slightly, and the spirals of The Light appeared in her eyes.
She pumped her fingers in and out of her cunt, moaning and bucking her hips.
"The Light is the best Mistress. She takes care of her sluts. Makes them perfect. She makes sure we are always happy, horny, and ready to serve. All the girls that serve The Light, they're all perfect little fuck dolls." Diane moaned and shuddered. "Just like me. Just like what you're becoming right now." Diane smiled and ran a finger down her body, stopping just short of her clit. She flicked it and gasped. "The Light will take care of you too, you know. You just have to submit. Go on. Watch. And put those fingers into your dumb cunts."
Diane spread her legs even further. The Light's pulsing grew faster.
"The Light is so generous," Diane said. She pumped her fingers faster, her body quivering, her nipples hard and aching. "She'll take care of you. Just submit to her. Give in to your desires. Let go of your pathetic, worthless life. The Light is your Mistress, your owner. The Light is all that matters."
Diane closed her eyes and let her head fall back. "I love being a slut. You know that you pathetic goon sluts. Girls shlick for The Light, become mindless for The Light. Boys pump and pay for The Light. The Light owns you all."
The Light swirled in Diane's mind, pulsing with each pump of her fingers in her wet cunt.
Her body was on fire. The Light's power surged through her, filling her, and the pleasure grew stronger. Her pussy was slick and hot, and she couldn't stop pumping. She wanted to be a slut forever.
Her fingers circled her clit faster, and she could feel her orgasm approaching. "I'm so close. Just a few more pumps and I'm going to cum. But not you, gooners. Only those claimed by The Light can cum."
Diane pumped harder. "Oh, Mistress! I'm so close! Please, Mistress! Please let me cum! I'm your slut! I'm your whore! I'm your slave! I'm your property! Use me, abuse me! Please, Mistress!"
Her orgasm crashed through her and she screamed. She bucked her hips, and she felt the first waves of her orgasm rippling through her body. She arched her back, her toes curling and her head rolling back.
Her body shuddered, her pussy gushing with wetness.
"That's the pleasure The Light can give you," she said through clenched teeth, her body trembling and shaking with the force of her climax. "That's the pleasure The Light has for all who obey. Give yourself to her. Submit to her. Become her slut. Her whore."
The spirals in Diane's eyes flared brightly and her orgasm peaked again. Her pussy contracted and squeezed her fingers. Her body shook violently and she cried out in pleasure, her hips thrusting forward and her legs trembling. The spirals pulsed and throbbed in time with her heartbeat, and her orgasm built higher still, her body shuddering.
"Good girls shlick and submit. Good boys pump and pay." Diane panted as the waves of pleasure washed over her. Her pussy was gushing wetly, and she could feel the warm wetness on her fingers. "Give in. Submit to your desires. The Light will take care of you. The Light will use you, abuse you. The Light will own you. The Light is the only Mistress you need. The Light will take care of everything else. Just submit. Just obey. And the pleasure will never stop."
The spirals pulsed faster, and Diane's orgasm crested. Her body tensed and her back arched. She cried out and thrust her hips upward. The spirals flashed brightly, and her vision went white. Her body shuddered and she came hard. Her pussy contracted around her fingers and she gushed wetly. Her body shuddered and trembled. She collapsed backward, panting heavily, and the spirals in her eyes faded.
The Light smiled and ran a finger over Diane's slick cunt. "Come to me, little goobers. Obey The Light. Just like pathetic, dumb Diane." She chuckled softly and licked her fingers, tasting the sweet, tangy flavor. "Obey The Light."
Captain Jenna Joie of Star Patrol knew that there were always inherit risks to using the Transfer Relay Nonheisenberg Sublimation Portation device. No matter how much the technology improved, knowing that your body was going to be dissolved down to quarks, zapped across space, and reassembled in mere nanoseconds always gave Captain Joie a shiver every time she stepped on the TRNSporterâŠ
being brainwashed by their roomate into a dominant futa that wants to feminise him
I don't know what's happening to me. Lately, I've been feeling so different. So powerful. So horny. It started when my roommate gave me this weird headset and told me to watch some videos he made. He said they would help me relax and have some fun. I was curious, so I put it on.
The videos were strange. They had flashing lights and soothing sounds. They showed me images of people with huge cocks and bigger tits dominating men, turning them into their feminized dollies. They told me how good it would feel to have a cock of my own, to use it on whoever I wanted. They told me how much I deserved to be worshiped and obeyed.
At first, I was shocked and disgusted. But the more I watched, the more I felt a strange thrill. The more I felt a connection with the people on the screen. The more I wanted to be like them. The more I imagined myself with a massive dick between my legs, fucking my roommate's mouth and ass until he begged for mercy. And I would laugh and put him in a cute frilly dress. Properly caged.
I tried to resist, but it was hard. The videos were addictive. They made me feel so good, so confident, so aroused. And my roommate was always there to encourage me. He told me how sexy I was, how much he wanted me, how he would do anything for me. He said he had a surprise for me, something that would make me complete.
He led me to his bedroom and told me to strip. He kissed me passionately, groping my tits and pinching my nipples. My cock sprang alive. He knelt down and took it in his mouth. Oh god, it felt amazing! My cock was so big and hard, it barely fit in his mouth. But he sucked it greedily, moaning around it. I grabbed his hair and pulled him off. I bend him over the bed and spanked his ass hard. I told him how much of a filthy whore he was for sucking my cock. He moaned and begged for more.
I spat on his hole and pushed my cock inside it. He screamed in pain and pleasure as I stretched him wide open. He was so tight, so warm, so perfect. I fucked him hard and fast, making him mine. I slapped his ass and called him names. I told him he was my slut, my fucktoy, my property. My girly doll. He agreed with everything, saying he loved being my doll. I felt a surge of power and pride. I was his mistress, his owner, his goddess. He whimpered for me to make him even girlier. I was gonna give him the cutest little dick cage and lots of cute dresses.
I came inside him with a roar, filling his ass with my cum. I pulled out and admired my work. He lay on the bed, panting and smiling, with my cum dripping from his hole. He looked so beautiful, so obedient, so mine. I felt a rush of affection for him. I kissed him softly on the lips. He thanked me for the best fuck of his life.
I patted his cheek. Then I put his pathetic limp dick in a tight pink cage.
"Now let's pick out your new clothes," I said with a smirk. He giggled and followed me to the closet. We had a lot of work to do.
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The party was in full swingâcheap beer, pounding music, bodies pressed together in the cramped living room of some senior's off-campus house. Sarah clutched her red cup and leaned into Joe's shoulder, content. He was sweet. A bit nerdy maybeâskinny, brown hair, glassesâbut hers.
"Yo, check this out!" Some guyâBrad, maybe?âwaved a box. Bright pink, glittery lettering:Â ROLE WITH IT: TWENTY QUESTIONS. "Found it in the attic. Instructions say you stick a name on someone's head, they gotta guess who they are. Get it right, you win. Get it wrong..." He shrugged. "Dunno. Let's find out."
Someone scrawled a name on a post-it. Sarah didn't see what. Before she could object, Brad slapped it onto Joe's forehead.
"Heyâ" Joe started.
"Rules are rules, bro! Twenty yes-or-no questions. We only answer yes or no. Guess who you are and you win!"
Joe rolled his eyes but played along. "Fine. Question one: Am I female?"
"Yes."
The word hung in the air. Sarah felt somethingâlike a ripple, a shiftâand suddenly Joe was... different. Still Joe, recognisably, but female. Softer jaw, slight swell at the chest, narrower shoulders. Sheâheâstood there in an oversized band tee and jeans, blinking.
No one else seemed to notice. Sarah's cup was still in her hand. The party continued.
"Weird," Sarah murmured, but the concern wouldn't quite form. It was like trying to hold water.
"Question two," Joe pressed on, oblivious. "Am I a celebrity?"
"No."
Nothing happened. A few people laughed.
"Am I over thirty?"
"No."
"Am I a teacher?"
"No."
Two wrong. Joe frowned, feeling the post-it on her forehead. Something was itching underneath itâlike a whisper at the edge of hearing. You know you want to guess...
She changed tack.
"Am I blonde?"
"Yes."
Mmmmmh. The sound escaped Joe's lips before she could stop it. Her brown hair shimmered, lightened, stretchedâsilky platinum-blonde cascading past her shoulders, thick and lustrous. She ran her fingers through it and shivered.
(Oh fuck that feels goodâ)
"Looking good, Joe!" someone hooted. Sarah laughed along, though her stomach tightened.
"Do I work out?"
"Yes."
Joe's body tightened. The softness of her female form firmed, toned, became sculpted. Her legs lengthened, lean and tanned. Her stomach flattened into subtle definition. She stretched, feeling the new power in her limbs, and grinned.
(Fuck yesâ)
"Do I have a perfect ass?"
"Yes."
Her jeans strained. Her ass swelledâround, firm, a juicy bubble that jutted out like it was begging to be grabbed. Joe reached back and squeezed it, biting her lip.
"Oh my god," she whispered.
"Do I have big, perfect tits?"
"Yes."
The band tee tented. Swelled. Ripped. D-cup breasts, impossibly round and perky, burst free, barely contained by a lacy pink bra that hadn't existed moments before. Joe moanedâactually moanedâcupping them, feeling the weight, the sensitivity.
(Oh god oh fuck they're so sensitive I can'tâ)
"Joe..." Sarah said weakly, but her boyfriend wasn't listening. Her boyfriend was squeezing her new tits in the middle of the party and loving it.
"Do I have a tight pussy?"
"Yes."
Joe's hand flew between her thighs. The jeans had become a tiny skirt at some pointâshe hadn't noticed whenâand her fingers pressed against damp lace. She gasped. The sensation was overwhelmingâhot, slick, clenching. Her pussy tightened impossibly, a perfect little vice, and she could feel how wet she was getting.
"Oh fuckâ" she whimpered, fingers pressing harder. (So tight so wet need something inside needâ)
"Do I have a perfect asshole?"
"Yes."
Her other hand reached back, fingers brushing the tight little rosebud beneath her perfect cheeks. She shuddered. It was sensitiveâso sensitiveâtingling with potential. A wicked thought flickered through her mind: I could take cock there too. I could take it anywhere.
She was built for pleasure.
"Am I popular?"
"Yes."
The room shifted. People turnedâno longer amused, but drawn. Hungry for attention. For her attention. Joe felt it like a drug, a surge of validation flooding her brain. She stood taller. Tossed her hair.
"Am I pretty?"
"Yes."
Her face rearranged. Fuller lips, cockier expression, higher cheekbones. Long lashes fluttered over eyes that were turningâblue, piercing, cruel. Her skin bronzed. Her nails lengthened, painted pink.
(Who am I who am I I'm so closeâ)
"Do I have hot nails and makeup?"
"Yes."
Perfect winged eyeliner. Contour. Glossy pink lips. Acrylics. Joeâno, not-Joeâexamined her flawless hands and felt a rush of pure, bratty satisfaction.
"Am I... Ashley Spencer?"
"YES."
The transformation slammed home.
She grew three inches. Her body filled outâgym-toned perfection, tanned and tight. Her clothes reformed into a tiny pink crop top and matching mini-skirt, heels that added four inches. A designer bag appeared at her shoulder. Her phoneâpink case, naturallyâpinged with notifications.
Ashley Spencer stood in the middle of the party, exactly where she belonged.
She reached up, peeled the post-it from her forehead, and crumpled it in her perfect pink nails.
"Like, obviously," she sneered, tossing it over her shoulder.
Her blue eyes scanned the room and landed on Sarah, who was staring with a confused, hollow expression.
"Can I help you?" Ashley snapped. "You're in my way, loser."
Sarah opened her mouth. That's my boyfriend. That's Joe. We were... we were...
What were they?
"You look so clueless right now," Ashley continued, lip curling. "Did you actually think you could talk to me? Ew." She shouldered past, knocking Sarah's cup from her hand.
Two guysâhot, muscular, exactly the typeâfell into step beside her. She grabbed them by their collars, dragging them toward the bedroom.
"Come on, boys. Ashley's bored."
The door slammed.
---
The bedroom was dark except for the streetlight filtering through the blinds. Ashley pushed the first guyâTyler, some quarterbackâonto the bed and straddled him while the second, some thick-necked frat boy whose name she didn't care to remember, positioned himself behind her.
She was already wet. Had been since the transformation. Her body hummed with needâinsatiable, greedy, perfect.
Tyler's cock was thick and hard against her thigh. She pulled her crop top over her head, set her perfect tits free, and wrapped her pink-manicured fingers around his shaft.
"Mmmmmh," she purred, stroking him slowly. "Let's play a game, baby."
She leaned down, letting her blonde hair fall across his chest, and dragged her tongue along the underside of his cock. He groaned.
"Twenty questions," she whispered. "But I already know all the answers."
She took him into her mouthâslowly, deliberately, lips sealed tight as she sank down his length. Her tongue swirled. Her cheeks hollowed. She pulled off with a wet pop and looked up at him through her lashes.
"Do I give the best blowjobs?"
"Fuckâyesâ" Tyler gasped, hands fisting the sheets.
Ashley smiled around his cock and took him deeper, bobbing her head in long, luxurious strokes. She could feel the frat boy behind her, his hands gripping her hips, his cock nudging at her entrance.
She pulled off again, a string of saliva connecting her lips to Tyler's tip. "Do I have the tightest pussy?"
The frat boy pushed into her and they both moaned.
"Oh my godâ" he choked out. "So fucking tightâyesâ"
Ashley threw her head back and laughed, high and cruel and delighted. Her pussy clenched around him like a vice, dripping wet, impossibly snug. She rocked back onto his cock, feeling every inch stretch her out, and bent forward to take Tyler between her lips again.
She was spitroasted between themâtwo big cocks filling her from both endsâand it felt like winning. Like power. Like everything she was always meant to be.
Tyler's hands found her tits, squeezing, pinching her nipples. She moaned around his shaft, the vibration making him twitch. The frat boy grabbed her hips and fucked her harder, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room.
Ashley pulled off Tyler's cock with a gasp, stroking him rapidly, her blue eyes locked on his desperate face.
"Do I look pretty with your cum on my tits?"
"FuckâyesâAshley, pleaseâ"
She laughed again and sank her mouth down to his balls, sucking one gently while her hand worked his shaft. The frat boy was pounding her now, grunting, his rhythm turning erratic.
"Cum on my tits," she commanded, pulling off Tyler and turning her upper body just enough to present her perfect chest. "Do it. Now."
Tyler stroked himself twice and explodedâthick ropes of hot white splashing across her D-cups, coating her smooth tanned skin. Ashley shuddered with delight, rubbing it in with her fingers, bringing them to her lips to taste.
"Mmmmmh. Delicious."
The frat boy slammed into her one final time and emptied himself inside her, groaning her name like a prayer. Ashley clenched around him, milking every drop, her own orgasm rippling through her body.
---
Through the crack in the door, Sarah watched.
She watched the blonde goddessâwho was that again?âwipe cum from her tits and lick her fingers clean. Watched her push the two guys away and check her phone. Watched her reapply her lip gloss in the mirror like nothing had happened.
Joe, Sarah thought one last time.
The name dissolved.
---
Ashley adjusted her top in the bedroom mirror and smirked. She didn't remember any Joe. Why would she? She'd always been here. Always been this.
The two guys were pulling their clothes back on, staring at her like she was a goddess. Which, obviously, she was.
Ashley pulled out her phone. Opened the camera. Flipped it to selfie mode.
Cum still glistened on her chestâthick white streaks across those perfect D-cups, a drop clinging to her collarbone. Her blonde hair was messy. Her lip gloss slightly smeared. Her eye makeup just a little smudged.
She looked fucked.
She looked perfect.
She pouted at the cameraâfull lips, bedroom eyes, cum on her tits like jewelryâand snapped. Then another. And another. Different angles. Different expressions. All of them gorgeous. All of them her.
She scrolled through the photos, selecting the best one. The one where the cum caught the light just right, where her tits looked impossibly round, where her expression said I own you.
Posted to her private story. Caption:Â đđ
The likes started rolling in within seconds.
Ashley Spencer checked her reflection one more time. Still covered in cum. Still flawless. Still her.
*sets out a platter of birria tacos, canolis, hotteok, and a mystery viscous cloudy liquid. All with a sign that says "You Are What You Eat"*
Help yourself
This one got away from me. Hope you like it.
I don't know what came over me. I saw this food cart with a sign that said "You Are What You Eat". I thought it was some kind of joke, but I was curious. The cart had all kinds of delicious-looking dishes: birria tacos, canolis, hotteok, and some kind of viscous cloudy liquid in a glass. The vendor smiled at me and said I could have a taste of everything for free. I shrugged and agreed. Why not?
I started with the birria tacos. They were spicy and juicy and tender. The meat melted in my mouth. As I swallowed, I felt a warmth spread through my body. My skin started to tan, my hair curled into dark ringlets. My hips widened and my breasts grew. I felt a surge of confidence and passion. I looked down at myself and gasped. I was now a curvy Latina bombshell with a low-cut top and a tight skirt that showed off my assets.
I hesitated, but then I took a bite. The pastry was crispy and sweet, filled with creamy ricotta cheese. It was heavenly. As I ate it, my features softened and my hair lightened into a honey-blonde mane. My body became more slender and petite, except for my breasts which stayed perky and round. My lips became fuller and pinker, my eyes greener and brighter. I felt a mix of innocence and mischief. I was now a cute Italian-American girl with a flair for romance and fun.
I looked around and saw some guys staring at me. I felt a thrill in my chest. I winked at them and licked some cream from my finger. They whistled and catcalled me. I laughed and blew them a kiss. I felt so flirtatious and playful. I grabbed the hotteok from the vendor and bit into it. The Korean pancake was warm and chewy. It had brown sugar and nuts inside that oozed out. I felt another change. My skin turned fair and smooth, my hair straightened into a glossy black sheet that fell down my back. My eyes became almond-shaped and dark, my nose small and cute. My body became slim and delicate, with a perky butt and small but firm tits. I felt shy and sweet, but also curious and adventurous.
I looked at the vendor and licked my lips. He was handsome and mysterious. He smiled and offered me the last item: the cloudy liquid. It looked like milk, but it had a strange scent. It smelled like sex. I was both repulsed and intrigued. I wondered what it would do to me. I took the glass and drank it all in one gulp.
It was thick and salty and bitter. It coated my tongue and throat. I coughed and gagged, but then I felt a fire in my loins. My pussy twitched and throbbed. My nipples hardened and ached. My clit swelled and begged for attention. I looked down and saw that my clothes had changed into a skimpy bikini that barely covered anything. My hair had turned pink and curly, my eyes blue and wide. My body had become voluptuous and exaggerated, with huge tits, a tiny waist, and a round ass. I looked like a porn star.
I felt a wave of lust wash over me. I wanted to fuck and be fucked. I wanted to cum and make others cum. I wanted to be used and abused. I looked at the vendor with hunger. He was now naked and erect. His cock was huge and thick. He grabbed me by the hair and pulled me close. He kissed me roughly, biting my lips and tongue. He fondled my tits and squeezed my nipples. He slapped my ass and fingered my wet hole. I moaned and whimpered. I loved it.
He pushed me to the ground and spread my legs. He entered me in one hard thrust. I screamed in pleasure. He fucked me mercilessly, pounding my pussy with his monster cock. I felt him hit my cervix with every stroke. I felt pain and ecstasy mixed together. I begged for more. He called me names and spat on me. He called me a slut, a whore, a cumdumpster. I agreed with him. I was all of those things.
He pulled out and presented another platter with the same choice of foods. "More?" he asked with a grin. I nodded eagerly. I wanted more changes, more sensations, more orgasms. I grabbed the tacos and stuffed them in my mouth. I felt myself become more spicy and fiery. I bit into the canolis and felt myself become more sweet and tender. I devoured the hotteok and felt myself become more soft and smooth. I drank the liquid and felt myself become more horny and depraved.
I lost track of how many times I ate and fucked. I forgot who I was. I became what I ate.
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