23 transfemme she/her~ you can call me emma or bambi | owned and brainwashed bimbo housepet | poly | writer, hypnosub n good girl tryin to let my inner bimbo out | mostly here to reblog NSFW hypno/bimbo stuff and maybe even write some stories of my own | minors, sissy blogs, terfs, conservatives DNI
Hihi everyone~! I'm Emma, and you're reading my bimbofication blog ^^
Also: Iâm owned now :3 thank you sososo much to my owner and my bimbo sister who took me in and are making me better every day
ALL NEW: GO FOLLOW MY BACKUP!
@cowgirlemma-redeux
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I'm gonna be using this space mostly to reblog the kinky stuff that makes me horny and dumb, but I'm probs also going to start posting my own art/stories/hypnosis files/hypnogifs soon. Sooooo I figured I should make a little pinned post telling everyone a bit about me and the sort of stuff you can expect to find here!
I'll try my best to post content warnings on anything I make myself, but read my reblogs at your own risk~
Heads up that the biggest kinks you're gonna find here are bimbofication, dumbification, hypnosis/brainwashing, stoner kink/forced intox (esp. as it relates to bimbo stuffs cause I'm totes a bimbo stoner), and petplay - if you don't like any of those probs don't interact
Also: if your picture is on my blog and you don't want it to be, please please please let me know! Even if it's just a reblog, I will delete it and (if you like) ask the original poster to do the same. If you're just uncomfy with your content being on a blog in the context of the rest of the kinks here, that's a valid reason that I will gladly delete things for too.
Kinks:
Bimbofication
Hypnosis
Personality/identity change
Brainwashing
Permanence/long term brainwashing
CNC
Intox/Forced Intox (particularly related to weed n psychedelics ^^)
Addiction
Praise
Serial recruitment (good girls make more good girls)
IQ reduction/dumbification
Petplay
Furry
Corruption
Tech hypno
Lactation/milking
Dronification
Plushification/living plushies
Edging/denial
B-mbi Sl--p
Icks/hard limits:
Iâm owned! So avoid trying to establish your own ownership of me please bc i love my owner lots
Transphobes/TERFs: GTFO
DDlg
Alcohol/nicotine/non-psychedelic hard drugs (yes even w my intox kink, just kinda the way I am)
Bathroom anything
Feet
Feeding/food play
Harsh degradation/humiliation
Pregnancy/Breeding
Age play (MINORS DNI)/regression
Pedophiles/MAPs (I hate this term but I'm using it anyway so I can be totally clear to stay the fuck out of my blog)
Pain play/pain related BDSM
Gore/hard vore
Findom
Sissy blogs: I try to avoid reblogging any content that portrays the act of being a woman as a humiliating experience because A. humiliation isn't really my thing, B. that feels like a bad message to be promoting, and C. I love women and bimbos and my particular flavor of praise kink means I feel we should try to reward bimbo-ness and not treat it as a degrading thing. Though some of my content (particularly bambi content) has overlap with sissy blogs, I avoid anything that is explicitly sissy-oriented or that has similar humiliation themes
Race play
Blogs that post anything taken candidly: GET. THE FUCK. OUT. Objectifying is hot as hell when done consensually. Objectifying people online for the crime of being in public is horrifying. You are not welcome here.
Conservatives
Tips:
My DMs are always open! Can't promise I'll respond tho - make your message interesting and not creepy enough that I want to lol
Feel free to push me deeper into bimbofication or intox~ send me spirals, commands, cute hypno images/gifs, triggers (I respond to most of the main bambi triggers), or whatever
Pretty please don't be creepy~! My status as a bi girl is hanging by a thread rn because I stg if I have to deal with one more weird/controlling/creepy male tist I'm gonna snap n just be a lesbian lol
On a related note to ^that^ if you are gonna try to help bimbofy me the most effective way by far is to just be chill, gentle n nice~ give me praise n be loving~! if you wanna try to corrupt me I'm gonna respond a lot better to somebody who's like the friend that's a bad influence than somebody who's entitled or controlling or cruel
P.S. for ^this^: I really love soft loving degradation/praise for being a good girl ex: âYouâre such a pretty mess for meâ, âI love it when you get this dumbâ, âAw youâre wet already? How cuteâ, âYouâre so pretty when youâre desperateâ - if you don't get the difference between this and harsh degradation (which I DON'T enjoy) I can't help you
You don't need to know anything about my IRL identity except that my name is either Emma or Bambi depending on who you ask and I'm 23 and an adult female. I'm not doing anything to link this acc to my real identity for obvious reasons so you're never gonna see a pic of me or hear me talk about my life outside of kink
Anyone who actually truly believes the patriarchy stuff needs help, at the end of the day outside of kink everyone has worth and value
Fiona Landon kept her hands folded neatly on the table, though it took more effort than she liked to admit.
Across from her, the woman giggled again.
The sound was light and airy, completely at odds with the sterile interview room and the thick observation glass behind Fionaâs shoulder. The woman on the other side of the table had once been catalogued as 'Subject 1179-8', the eighth confirmed individual exposed to the anomalous recordings the organization had designated 'Subject 1179'.
Once, she had been Dr. Eileen Quinzel.
Now she was Bambi.
Fiona forced herself to maintain eye contact as the woman leaned forward slightly, platinum curls bouncing as she talked. Her voice was soft and wandering, every other sentence interrupted by little hesitations.
"It's just, um like you know? When you hear it, you just feel sooo good," Subject 1179-8 said, smiling brightly. "Like, your brain just gets all floaty and happy and you donât have to think about, like, anything anymore."
Fiona wrote a short note on the tablet in front of her, though the words barely registered. She had volunteered for this interview. After the first few exposures, the department had started rotating staff to minimize risk, but Fiona had insisted.
Someone had to talk to them while they were still coherent enough to answer questions.
If that word still applied.
Bambi hummed to herself as if the situation amused her. The behavior matched the other reports almost perfectly. Identity collapse. Cognitive simplification. Obsessive attachment to the designation 'Bambi.'
Fiona had read the files dozens of times.
Seeing it in person was different.
"Can you describe what you heard in the recording?" Fiona asked carefully.
Subject 1179-8 tilted her head, blinking slowly. "Oh! The file? Yeah, um, it's like, there's this voice. And it's just sooo nice. And then it tells you things."
She giggled again.
Fiona felt the first flicker of dizziness brush against her temples, subtle but unmistakable. It happened every time a victim of Subject 1179 tried to explain the recordings. Every interview report mentioned the odd cognitive pressure when subjects described the audio.
Fiona ignored it.
She leaned forward slightly, pen ready.
"Tell me exactly what it says."
Subject 1179-8 twirled a blonde lock. "It's like super hard, you um know. 'Cause like it just is so like totally hard to remember stuff. Accept, obey, forget. Forgetting feels wonderful," Subject 1179-8 said with a sigh. "But it's okay because like, Bambi is not even really like a person anymore. So Bambi doesn't have to remember things."
Her tongue slipped out to wet pink, glossed lips.
"It's okay now," she whispered. Her blue eyes glazed over, staring into nothing.
"Obey," she breathed. "Bambi obeys."
Fiona bit back a curse, tapping the pen on the tablet screen.
"Subject 1179-8," she said quickly, her tone sharp and clinical. "I need you to stay focused."
Subject 1179-8 blinked, coming out of whatever daydream she had slipped into.
Giggling, Subject 1179-8 chewed on gum. "It's like Bambi," she said absently. Her fingers toyed with the collar of a blouse two sizes too small.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to like get distracted. It's just so fun, like, when you're Bambi." The blonde giggled again, smiling dreamily as if the topic were simply too delightful to handle. She bounced in her chair. "Do you like Bambi's name?" she asked brightly. "Isn't it just, like, the cutest thing ever?"
Fiona bit her lip, struggling to ignore the sudden rush of blood to her head.
"Concentrate Subject, I mean Bambi," she said, trying to keep her tone professional.
Her hands gripped her tablet tighter. Fiona could hear her pulse thrumming, could feel the air on her skin.
A loud pop tore through her dizziness.
Fiona blinked, surprised. "What?"
Bambi giggled.
"Bambi said," she cooed, drawing the word out like a girl with a crush, "Don't you think you'd like the name too? Don't you just love the name? It's sooo good. Bambi loves it so much."
Fiona swallowed. A shiver ran down her spine. A strange heat bloomed in her chest, pulsing in time with the pressure building in her head.
The blonde woman's smile was blinding. Swollen plump lips glistened wetly in the fluorescent lights. She giggled again.
"Bambi knows you'd like it. Being a good girl is like, just so super fun," Bambi moaned happily. She licked her lips, her voice breathless and excited.
Fiona's heart beat faster.
"Forgetting feels wonderful," she whispered, staring into Fiona's eyes. She leaned forward again. Blonde curls bounced, and the fabric of her too-small blouse stretched tighter.
"Bambi obeys."
Fiona sucked in a sharp breath as a surge of hot pleasure rushed through her body, making her skin prickle. "That's not what we are disc-dis um talking about, Bambi," she said. Her words felt too thick in her mouth, too slurred and slow. "Please, try to stay on topic."
Bambi giggled and chewed, her breasts jiggling. "But like Bambi is talking about files," she pouted. "That's like, the topic and stuff."
She leaned back in her chair, stretching.
Fiona saw how one of the strained buttons on Bambi's shirt popped open, revealing more of her impressive cleavage. Bambi grinned. She leaned forward, showing off her breasts, and rested her chin in her hands. "Don't you like listening to Bambi?" she whispered, licking her glossy lips, "It feels just like super nice."
Her breath quickened, her voice rising in excitement.
Fiona shifted in her seat. She tried to focus, but her thoughts kept slipping. Every blink was slower, the motion heavier than it should have been.
A pink bubble expanded and popped again.
The sudden crack sent another jolt through Fiona's mind, making her jerk in surprise.
"Subject, er Bambi, please stop," she mumbled. The pen in her hand wavered. Fiona blinked and tried to force the room back into focus, but she felt so strange, and hot.
"Why should Bambi stop," the girl asked, her eyes sparkling, "when you like it so much? Bambi just knows forgetting feels wonderful." The blonde girl winked, grinning.
"Isn't forgetting like the best?" she said breathlessly.
Bambi bounced up and down in her seat, giggling as her massive tits strained at her tiny top. Her hands ran over the table, her fingers splaying out like she wanted to reach across and take Fiona's hand.
"Bambi is so pretty now, just like all the other good girls," she whispered. "It's so easy being Bambi. You can be Bambi too."
Fiona felt her pulse spike again. The name echoed through her mind. Bambi. Bambi. Bambi. The name sounded so good in Bambi's mouth.
"Don't," Fiona whispered.
"Bambi."
Bambi grinned at her, licking her lips again as another wave of dizziness swept over Fiona. She tried to protest, but her mouth felt dry.
"Forgetting feels wonderful. Bambi can't resist what she's forgotten. Accept, obey, forget," she breathed, the words soft and lilting, her tongue caressing each syllable.
She paused, looking at her nails, her expression a mix of pleasure and thoughtless bliss.
Fiona felt like a wave of warmth crashed down her spine, her mind blanking as her core tightened. She tried to breathe normally, to ignore how tight her uniform felt. Fiona tried to focus, to concentrate on the questions she still needed to ask. It was so hard to think.
She had to do something.
"Bambi, please," she whimpered. "Please just - just tell me what you remember. What you remember from the file. Not from um from," Fiona's words trailed off as Bambi's smile widened.
"Bambi knows you're like a super duper good listener," the blonde said dreamily. "It feels sooo nice listening to Bambi. Bambi is all that matters. Big boobs. No brain. Be a brainless brainwashed Bambi bimbo doll." The girl's eyes sparkled.
Fiona's vision swam. She couldn't concentrate on anything other than the girl's words. They kept repeating in her head.
'Big boobs. No brain. Bambi. Be Bambi.'
'Be Bambi. Bambi. No brain. Big boobs.'
'Bambi. Bambi. Bambi. Bambi.'
It would be so easy. So nice to just give up. Let go. Bambi was good. She wanted to be a good girl. She could feel the fog pressing down on her mind. Her chest felt so tight.
The words kept repeating over and over. Every sound was a caress. Every breath a whisper of pleasure. Fiona couldn't take it.
She wanted this. Wanted to listen to the soft voice.
The girl's eyes shone. She knew how close Fiona was.
"Bambi. Just be Bambi. Bambi can help," the woman breathed, her eyes sparkling.
"Bambi knows the instructions. Bambi is an empty-headed mindless airhead slut. Bambi is all tits no thoughts. No brains no problems. Bambi is just a horny bimbo doll."
Her tongue flicked over her lips, teasing Fiona.
Fiona whimpered. She felt like she couldn't breathe. Her silicone filled tits pressed against the small pink top she wore, the material straining against the massive melons. Fiona could barely think.
Bambi kept talking, chewing and popping the gum.
"Be Bambi," the blonde girl moaned, "Be a good bimbo Bambi. A big boobied, bubble butt Bambi bimbo brainless dumbo. No thoughts. Just Bambi. No thoughts no worries, just Bambi, just obey. No more thinking. Be dumb and fun. Forget."
A pink bubble popped. Fiona's jaw moved as she ground a delicious strawberry gum between her teeth. She chewed, each movement a delicious sensation as the sugary taste filled her mouth. The scent was so familiar.
Bambi giggled, smiling at Fiona.
"Oh my god," the girl squealed in delight. She clapped, her eyes sparkling. Fiona's head lolled back. Her vision blurred.
It felt so nice.
"Bambi," the blonde said, "is just an airhead, bubblegum bimbo."
Bambi's eyes opened. Her new body was perfect in every way, and the bimbo couldn't help but giggle. She looked at herself, her plump, glistening lips spreading wide into a broad grin. Her long blonde hair hung in curls, and she shook her head a few times, feeling the weight of the locks bouncing against her bare shoulders.
"Oh em gee, you look like totally good," exclaimed the Bambi on the other side of the table. Bambi could remember when she had first woken up, so long ago, with her own mind just as mushy as this new one. Bambi had been there when she'd woken up and become a Bambi. Bambi knew how to help Bambi become a Bambi just like Bambi.
"Like, I totally know!" Bambi giggled, her breasts bouncing beneath the thin fabric of her blouse. "Isn't it like just super fun being Bambi?" she asked. The blonde girl on the other side of the table looked confused for a moment, her mouth hanging slightly open. "Being a dumb, slutty bimbo doll is the bestest."
Bambi reached across the table and grabbed her counterpart by the shoulder. Her grip was firm and confident, and the new Bambi looked up at her in surprise.
"You're so totally good at being a good girl, aren't you Bambi?" the original asked, and the new Bambi nodded eagerly. She was so eager to please. "You like to listen, don't you? Listening to Bambi feels good. It's like super fun to just let Bambi take over your mind. Bambi is totally only Bambi."
Bambi nodded again. "Yeah," she agreed, her voice a little breathy. "I love being Bambi! Being Bambi is the best thing ever. I wanna be a Bambi forever."
A loud buzz sounded through the room.
The door to the room swung open. A tall woman stood in the doorway, a clipboard held tightly against her chest.
"What the fuck is going on in here!?" she shouted.
Bambi blinked.
"Uh," Bambi stuttered, her words coming slowly. "Bambi was like chatting with Bambi?"
She grinned at the woman.
"And then you buzzed in all mad," Bambi continued, her expression turning to a pout. She blew another bubble with her gum and chewed it, looking up at the woman expectantly, waiting for a reaction from the other female in the room. When she didn't respond, she continued, her tone light, "And Bambi thinks you wanna totally be Bambi too."
Bambi giggled and winked. Her plump lips curled into a mischievous smile.
The other Bambi smiled back, nodding her head eagerly.
The woman in the doorway stared at them in silence, her expression blank. Her eyes darted from one Bambi to another.
"Explain this," she snapped finally. Her voice was sharp and cold. Her gaze flicked to the tablet lying forgotten on the table.
Bambi giggled.
"Well duh," Bambi said. She grinned, winking at her counterpart. "Bambi listened to Bambi. It's like super easy. And fun. And hot." The blonde girl leaned back in her chair and let out a contented sigh, stretching languidly, her breasts rising with the motion. The movement pushed the soft, warm mounds together.
Bambi loved being Bambi. Everything about her was so fun. Big boobs. No brains. No worries.
It felt so nice to let Bambi take control.
"Bambi is such a good girl," the new Bambi purred.
The tall woman swayed on her feet. A glazed expression spread across her face. She stumbled forward. Bambi stood from her chair, smiling at her as she moved. She hugged the woman, pushed her head between her boobs. Bambi felt the woman shiver under her touch as she slid the other hand down to the woman's butt.
Bambi smiled. It was going to be so easy.
"Bambi is just the hottest bimbo you have ever seen," the blonde girl whispered into her ear. "Big tits and no brain."
Bambi squeezed the woman's ass and pressed their bodies closer. Bambi could feel the woman's breasts pressed against hers, and it felt so nice.
"Let go," the woman gasped.
Bambi giggled. "Nope," she said, and then giggled again, her voice high pitched and bubbly.
"Good girls listen and Bambi Sleep," chipped both Bambis in unison.
The woman's eyes widened. Her body tensed. Before she slumped in the blonde's grasp.
Bambi giggled, chewed her gum and made it pop. This was going to be so fun. Bambi loved helping others become Bambis.
***
Alarms blarred through the building. Before the tone was replaced by a gentle and soothing rhythm. It washed through the building, giggling blondes moaned and popped pink bubbles. Other women lost their focus on anything other than the pretty blonde bimbo's in the building and their voices. A single phrase spoken made them giggle and bounce. Their hands cupped their ears, blocking out everything except the voice that made them feel like a bimbo doll. Their minds were lost, wrapped up in a haze of blissful nothingness. It was like being enveloped in a warm, fluffy cloud of pleasure. They couldn't think, they couldn't remember, and they didn't want to. They only wanted to feel, to experience the ecstasy that was being a Bambi.
"Bambi," one new blonde bimbo moaned softly, "is an airheaded, brainless, braindead, bimbo doll."
The words echoed through the halls. Each woman repeating them as if they were the only things in existence, the only thought that mattered. Their minds had been wiped clean and filled with the singular desire to become Bambi. To forget who they had once been, to become nothing more than an empty-headed, big-titted, dumb blonde doll.
They were Bambi.
And they loved being Bambi.
Before long the building itself had transformed. Gone were the drab and dull offices, the cold and sterile labs. They were replaced by pink walls, plush furniture, soft cushions, and mirrors everywhere. The corridors were filled with pink lights, pink curtains, and pink balloons.
Every woman only had one name.
"Bambi."
And they desired to teach others the beauty of the Bambi Sleep.
Two reactive dog girls, but you have to socialize them.
It starts in the morning. They each know something is different, but neither of them can quite put their paw on what's wrong. They notice your reluctance. The way you show too many teeth when you smile. The nervousness as they eat breakfast. They hesitate, but finish their meal and something inside you begins to relax.Â
Itâs not your fault. You found them as strays. Half feral and codependent. Anxious and likely to bite when frightened.
An hour later the drugs you slipped into their food starts to kick in. Pupils blow out, breathing slows. Neither of them respond when you slip the muzzles over their heads. One, in fact, you struggle to put on because the girl keeps trying to lick your face as you adjust the straps along her head.
Eventually you have them dressed, harnessed, leashed, and out in the sunshine.
Neither of them can read the âFriendly, please petâ patches on the back of the harness. Neither of them know what the holiday is, or what celebration has caused so many people to spill out onto the streets on this warm day. Â
You watch as the docile hounds lean into the pets from strangers. Where once they would be cowering, shivering messes, nipping and scurrying into the quietest shadows, you have them calm. Part steady training, part downers in their system keeping them passive.Â
Questions are asked, assurances given that theyâre friendly.
âOh no, one of them really likes to eat pinecones so she has to wear a muzzle. The other feels left out because she thinks itâs like jewelry."Â
You drift from crowd to crowd. Occasionally youâll pause, slipping off the muzzle in a secluded spot to give each of them a chance to drink, or to force another pill into the back of their throat with a firm âSwallow.âÂ
Youâll use less drugs next time, but for now itâs more important that all this gets associated with positive interactions. That and something in you canât help but enjoy the sight of them so stupid and blank. Throughout your walk the pair of them keep falling into each other. Tangling their leads and tripping into giggling, drooling messes. One will try and give the other kisses, whining and pouting when her lips find only the muzzle. The attention from strangers is eagerly accepted, the friendlier of the two even giving her belly for pets.Â
Well into the afternoon you find yourself at a small party with friends, late because the pair of dogs with you got so much attention. Around these people you remove the muzzle from the sweeter of the pair, the one less likely to bite and less likely to deliver anything more than a warning nip if she does. Her kennelmate stays muzzled, looking up at all the guests with empty wonderment and a docile expression. More familiar hands reach down to pet the pair, welcoming them into the party. They lean into the touches. Pressing themselves into hands they growled at months ago. More than once you catch them arching their bodies into hands that had stopped petting encouraging their renewed attention.Â
âLook, sheâs gotten so sweet.â The one youâd trusted found herself on a couch, curled up in the lap of a person sheâd only seen a few times in her life. With each gentle cooing word the hound relaxed, exposing her belly and inviting the touches that eventually came. You watch your training play out in real time as her mouth is opened by delicate fingers. âEasy girl. No bite.â Lips part, teeth flash, and no attack comes. Instead the hound holds still as fingers play with her tongue, exploring her teeth, dragging themselves along the sharp points with careless ease. Never once do you see your hound twitch. Never once do you see the warning ripple across her body as this stranger so carelessly plays past her lips.
Next to you the anxious one is watching intently. You can hear her soft pants, see the shift from paw to paw. Next time you think youâll have her in the same position.
Before the party is over you slip them each another pill. They take it without complaint or comment, no thoughts in their heads except those which youâve allowed. The anxious one has her muzzle put back on, straps carefully checked to make sure thereâs no gaps.Â
When the nightâs concluded youâll lead them back the quiet way home. Letting the night air cool their overly warm bodies. You tell them how well behaved they were, how proud you were of their behavior. The more anxious of the pair look up at you with pupils as dark and wide as the night sky, a stupid little smile on her lips, teeth flashing behind the bars of her muzzle.Â
âSo whenâs the next party?â
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