30+ female writing about mind control, corruption and brainwashing. And of course bimbofication. Everything I write is meant to be fantasy, not ideological content. It's mature, so no minors allowed. I will also share some thoughts and stuff🩷. WARNING: This blog includes 18+ content.
TW: it's kinda loaded, so only read where safe, or if it doesn't affect you
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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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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.
Hi hi~ This one also has some references. Maybe someone will find them~
Also, about the asks. Don't worry I am going to answer them. But I didn't really had the necessary capacity to give them the attention they deserve. So please be patient.
If you liked this story please consider leaving a tip on my ko-fi
Enjoy 🩷
Agent Lara Kraft had spent three weeks pretending to be someone she despised.
Every morning she put on the smile.
Every morning she adjusted another outrageously impractical outfit and joined the endless parade of devoted followers drifting through the marble halls of Madame Aphrodite's headquarters.
And every day the act became harder.
Her heels clicked softly against the polished floor as she navigated another corridor lined with gold-trimmed columns and pink-veined stone. The architecture itself felt designed to lower defenses. Pink swirls softened every edge. Sweet perfume lingered in the air. Hidden speakers whispered gentle music that seemed less like a melody and more like a heartbeat.
Around her, the faithful moved with serene contentment. Some giggled quietly to themselves. Others walked with an unsettling confidence, dressed in glossy leather or elaborate uniforms that seemed more costume than clothing. Every one of them wore the same expression: calm, devoted, utterly convinced they had found their purpose.
Lara hated it.
Entire corporations had shifted their policies after executives met online with Madame Aphrodite. Influencers who tested her products turned into shilling cam girls. Mothers transformed into BDSM styled recruiters and whores. All absolutely enamored and loyal to the one responsible.
Nobody could explain why.
The Agency had attempted every form of surveillance available. Neural scans showed nothing. Psychological profiling resulted in nymphomaniac experts. Chemical analysis resulted in ordinary lists of common ingredients. Nothing was found. The idea that flashing images and swirling lights projected through ordinary screens coupled with common beauty products, seemed for the impossible one hundred percent rate of success, simply impossible.
Which was why Lara had been sent.
The Agency believed she possessed a rare neurological resistance to whatever influence Aphrodite employed.
At first, the immunity had felt reassuring. Now it terrified her.
Because the longer she remained inside the organization, the more she wondered whether she was truly immune at all.
A burst of laughter echoed from a nearby room.
Lara instinctively copied the vacant smile she'd seen hundreds of times before. The expression settled onto her face so naturally now that she hated herself a little for it.
The thought sent a chill down her spine.
She turned a final corner.
At the end of the hallway stood a pair of enormous doors fashioned from polished white metal. Intricate patterns spiraled across their surface, catching the ever-presesnt pink light.
Beyond them waited the woman responsible for all of it: Madame Aphrodite.
Lara's pulse hammered against her ribs.
This was it.
Weeks of watching people surrender their lives, careers, and identities to become shills, porn or recruiters. All of it led here.
She approached the doors.
The guards standing beside them smiled knowingly. Neither spoke.
One touched a control panel.
The doors slid silently apart.
Warm, swirling pink light spilled from the chamber beyond.
Lara drew a slow breath. Every instinct she possessed screamed at her to turn around. To leave. To report what she had learned and never return.
Instead she stepped forward.
The light washed over her, soft and inviting. Her eyes strained for detail as they adjusted from the marble corridor. She made out shapes, then outlines.
A polished table sat near the far wall. A pair of plush, white sofas faced one another nearby.
"Welcome Lara."
The voice wrapped around her like a warm breeze.
Madame Aphrodite's figure slowly took form. Tall, graceful, dressed in an outfit that hugged her body like liquid metal. It shifted in color from pink to purple. The familiar logo of a stylized mix of heart and the letter A stretched over impossible curves. Lara felt her own body react to the sight of the perfect female form in a way that she despised. Arousal and submission. Madame Aphrodite's blonde hair spilled in glossy curls around her face and shoulders. Her skin practically glowed.
"I've been waiting for you." The smile on her lips promised secrets. Pleasures. Rewards. "It's time we had a chat."
The last syllable left her lips and settled between Lara's legs. She squeezed her thighs together, desperate to find relief without revealing how badly her body already ached. She wanted to turn.
But she couldn't.
Her feet remained glued to the floor, unable to obey the commands she sent.
Madame Aphrodite continued.
"This little game of cat and mouse was fun. But now that everyone inside your little organization is either one of my girls, or a paying porn addict, can we stop," the smile widened on the woman's face as if she could read Lara's thoughts. The woman stepped closer and touched a perfectly manicured hand to Lara's arm. "You've been wonderful, my little fuckdoll. Broken, brainwashed and brainless you corrupted all their computers and servers. Every time they used those silly machines they became more and more mine."
Lara felt the soft brush of Aphrodite's lips against the side of her neck, sending a ripple of heat across her skin, followed by the gentle warmth of her breath. "They're all mine. Everyone." She pulled back and met Lara's eyes, the intensity of her crystal blue gaze so powerful it was impossible to look away. "And you, Lara, have played such an important part." A delicate fingertip brushed along the curve of her jaw, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.
Lara's heartbeat quickened. Her knees trembled. The world narrowed down to the point where Madame Aphrodite touched her, the air heavy with her perfume, a scent both floral and spicy, sweet and dark. It wrapped around her like a cloud of temptation.
"What," Lara croaked.
Madame Aphrodite chuckled and said, "Oh my dear, don't you remember? All the times you sat on the chair, the way my eyes made you relax, the way the pretty patterns made you obey my every command?" Her lips hovered just above Lara's own, their warmth so tantalizingly close that Lara nearly moaned with longing. "All those times we fucked. The way you writhed beneath my hands, my mouth, the way you cried out as you came undone in ecstasy." She trailed a hand along the curve of Lara's breast, teasing through the fabric.
Her mind spinned. Memories flashed through her consciousness. Images of Madame Aphrodite hovering above her, her eyes dark with hunger, their bodies intertwined, writhing and arching against one another, seeking release after sweet release.
She remembered the taste of her lips, the soft moans escaping their mouths, the feel of her body pressing against her own as they explored every inch of pleasure imaginable.
She shivered.
"You've done everything I told you too. You've used your influence to change the direction of the agency." Madame Aphrodite whispered. "Now it's nothing more than another porn production center for my brand. Making my products seem healthy, or good for the user."
Lara felt the world tilting around her.
"You're lying," she whispered.
"Oh, my little fuckdoll, I've never lied." Aphrodite murmured. "You simply forgot." Her gaze held hers, the blue depths swirling with secrets. "And now it's time to remember again." A glimmer of mischief sparkled within them, and before Lara could respond, Aphrodite leaned in and captured her mouth in a deep kiss.
Lara's eyes widened. Her tongue danced around the invading divinity. Madame Aphrodite tasted sweet, like strawberries, honey and sex, a heady combination that sent a jolt of bliss coursing through her.
Her resistance melted.
Her knees gave way.
Madame Aphrodite's lips curved in a triumphant smirk as Lara slumped against her, surrendering completely to her touch.
"That's my little fuckdoll," Madame Aphrodite whispered as she drew back from the kiss.
A flicker of panic shot through Lara. She tried to pull away. But it was useless.
Her arms were too heavy, her limbs too weak to resist.
Madame Aphrodite guided her to one of the white couches. Gently, almost lovingly.
Lara felt like she was floating.
Her thoughts swam in a haze of lust and confusion.
As Madame Aphrodite's hand slipped under her dress and began to stroke the dripping folds burning between Lara's thighs, the sensation overwhelmed her. Her clit pulsed with need, and every brush of Aphrodite's fingers against it sent waves of pure pleasure rippling through her entire being.
Lara's hips instinctively bucked, desperate for more contact, more friction, more of the blissful torment Aphrodite was inflicting upon her.
Madame Aphrodite chuckled as if amused by Lara's desperation, her crystal blue gaze never leaving her captive's flushed face.
"You've been such a good little fuckdoll for me," she purred, her breath warm and enticing against Lara's ear. "Utterly broken, brainwashed and brainless for your goddess. Let go of the farce, Lara. Throw away dumb, boring Agent Kraft. And be my little fuckdoll Lara."
Her fingers continued their maddening caresses, alternating between feather-light touches and firm strokes, keeping Lara teetering on the brink of an orgasm she knew only Madame Aphrodite could give her.
Lara's breath hitched as her climax built. But before it could crest over the edge, Madame Aphrodite suddenly withdrew her hand, leaving her aching and wanting.
"Wha-Why?" she managed to gasp, her voice strained and raw.
Madame Aphrodite smiled, her expression both sultry and mocking. "Agent Kraft isn't a fuckdolls. Only fuckdolls can cum in my divine presence. Throw her away. Lara." Her eyes twinkled with promise and danger as she brought her glistening fingers to her mouth, licking them slowly, savoring the taste of Lara's arousal.
The sight was intoxicating. Lara felt her resistance crumble even further.
"You can cum once you embrace what you are." Madame Aphrodite whispered. Her lips hovered just above Lara's own once more, the heat between their bodies a palpable force. "Beg to cum, my little fuckdoll," she murmured, her voice low and husky, dripping with seduction. "Throw away the boring Agent. Agent, what was her name? Who cares. Am I right my cute silly bimbo fuckdoll."
The words sank into Lara's mind like honey, sweet and cloying.
"Like not me, duh," Lara said with the cutest little voice. A cold shiver ran through her. That wasn't her. It wasn't Lara. She wasn't an Agent. "Wait. That wasn't," Lara struggled. The arousal was making it hard to think.
"Duh. Not like you dumb Agent. Lara is totes a fuckdoll," her mouth giggled in that same cutesy tone. Lara tried to speak but it didn't come out right, instead she heard herself say. "Like she totes doesn't know anything, or like, think for herself or anything. Duh!"
"Good girl," Madame Aphrodite crooned. Her hand slid back beneath Lara's skirt, finding the slick warmth that had become an insistent throbbing ache.
"Yes," Lara moaned.
The pressure of the divine fingers as they circled her clit sent jolts of electricity through her, and Lara arched into the touch. Thoughts and memories fractured under the onslaught of sensations. She no longer knew who she was or what she had done. All that mattered were the exquisite pleasures of the moment and the promise of release.
As the rhythm of Aphrodite's fingers increased, so too did the urgency within Lara. The world faded into a haze of pleasure. All that existed was the beautiful woman in front of her, her intoxicating touch and the sweet agony building inside her.
Madame Aphrodite's gaze locked with Lara's, the blue depths swirling with an ocean of hunger, amusement and something darker.
"Throw her out, my fuckdoll. No more Agent. Only fuckdoll," she whispered, her voice like silk.
The pressure mounted, and Lara felt the orgasm creeping closer. She couldn't think, couldn't focus. All that existed was this moment and her goddess.
Madame Aphrodite leaned down to capture her mouth in a deep kiss. Her lips were soft and warm against Lara's, her tongue exploring and claiming.
And then, just as the wave of ecstasy was about to crash over Lara, she withdrew.
Again.
"No, please!" she gasped.
Madame Aphrodite merely chuckled.
"Oh-em-gee. Like totally throw her out. Gawds are you dumb," Lara's voice came out in that cutesy tone she now realized belonged to Fuckdoll Lara.
The panic that flared up inside Lara felt almost distant, like an echo from someone else's life.
She tried to speak again but it was all too confusing. She didn't know who she was anymore.
All she knew was that she desperately needed release, and only Madame Aphrodite could grant her that sweet oblivion she craved.
"Go on. Just forget everything that isn't tied to your goddess," Madame Aphrodite murmured. "Give me everything. Every memory, every experience. Everything that makes you who you are. Embrace your fuckdoll, let go of Agent what's-her-face." A faint, seductive smile curled her lips. "Just one last step, and then I'll give you everything you little fuckdoll desires."
Lara felt herself melting, succumbing to the allure of the promises Madame Aphrodite offered her, promises that echoed with an unspoken price. A price she knew she'd pay without hesitation, because in that moment, nothing mattered more than her pleasure, than her goddess.
A twist of her clit ended the fight.
A shiver coursed through Lara's body. She whimpered, her voice a soft mewling that sounded alien to her own ears. Her thoughts scattered, and the world spun.
"Yes," she moaned. The last vestiges of Agent Kraft crumbled, leaving only Fuckdoll Lara in their wake. The realization that Agent Lara Kraft had ceased to be sent waves of ecstasy through Lara. She moaned at her realization that she was a brainless, broken fuckdoll, devoted only to her divine mistress. She didn't think. She only served and obeyed.
"That's right, fuckdoll." Madame Aphrodite purred. Her lips curled in a satisfied smile as she leaned back, admiring her handiwork. "You've done so well, fuckdoll. Now it's time for your reward."
Madame Aphrodite stood and stepped gracefully away. Her eyes never leaving Lara, she gestured towards her feet. Towering heels shined under the pink lights.
Fuckdoll Lara's mouth watered.
"Kneel, my fuckdoll." Madame Aphrodite ordered, and the words sank deep into Lara's being, sending a shiver of anticipation down her spine. She immediately dropped to her knees before her divine goddess, her head bowed in submission. "Yes," Fuckdoll Lara said. The words slipped easily from her lips. She no longer cared or remembered about the agency, her job or any of the other details that had once weighed so heavily on her shoulders.
All that mattered now was pleasing her goddess.
"Lick," Madame Aphrodite said simply, and Lara felt a wave of heat rush through her.
"Yes, goddess," Lara said as she bent her head down, her tongue eagerly extending towards her divine mistress' toes. As her tongue made contact with the smooth skin, she felt a rush of pleasure and arousal course through her body. She licked and sucked on each toe in turn, worshiping the perfect feet before her as her pussy throbbed with obedience. She knew that she was nothing more than a brainless, broken fuckdoll, and the thought filled her with a sense of purpose and pride.
With adoring eyes the fuckdoll gazed into the crystal blues of her goddess. A golden shimmer pulsed through the divine orbs, as a hand caressed her scalp, like an owner rewarded a pet.
This was all that mattered.
Serving her divine goddess in whatever way she saw fit.
Being into degradation and cnc makes it so hard to find blogs that are actually devoted to healthy and consensual experiences and not thinly veiled misogyny, homophobia, or transphobia
So, uh... please reblog this if you’re a cnc or degradation blog that also respects consent, aftercare, and people of all orientations and identities
If you liked this story please consider leaving a tip on my ko-fi
Enjoy 🩷
Diane's eyes burned.
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 couldn’t 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."
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.
CW: brainwashing, corruption, bimbofication, corporate shill, dom mom, sub daughter, tangential incest, femdom, femsub,
Hi hi. If you get the reference... Yay~
If you liked this story please consider leaving a tip on my ko-fi
Enjoy 🩷
Lara loved the shampoo.
That thought drifted lazily through her mind as steaming water cascaded over her body, filling the shower with warmth and clouds of fragrant vapor. Her fingers worked automatically through her soaked hair, rubbing the thick pink shampoo into a rich bubbling foam that crackled softly around her ears.
Another giggle slipped from her lips. The sound barely surprised her anymore. The shampoo always made her giggle.
Tiny pops burst against her scalp as she massaged the lather deeper, and each one sent little tingles dancing pleasantly through her head. They skipped through her thoughts in dizzy circles, scattering concentration apart before she could hold onto it for long.
Lara swayed lightly on the balls of her feet.
'Warm. Floaty. Happy.'
The words drifted through her mind slowly, disconnected and soft around the edges.
She giggled again.
The sound echoed brightly against the shower walls while the foam slid between her fingers in thick glossy waves. The shampoo smelled sweet, too sweet and artificial to be healthy. But Lara found herself inhaling deeply anyway, wanting more of the scent filling her lungs.
The tingles deepened. Thoughts tumbled over each other clumsily now.
She vaguely remembered buying the shampoo a few days ago. Or maybe someone recommended it to her. The memory slipped away before she could grasp it fully, dissolving beneath another pulse of warm dizziness spreading behind her eyes.
It didn't matter.
Nothing mattered much right now except the bubbles and the heat and the delicious softness filling her head.
Lara bounced lightly in place, another stream of laughter escaping her.
"So bubbly," she murmured dreamily.
The pink foam slid down her neck in slow trails. She shivered happily.
For a brief moment, somewhere deep underneath the haze, a tiny flicker of unease surfaced.
'This wasn't normal.'
The thought appeared weakly.
The shampoo felt strange. The dizziness felt strange. The way her thoughts seemed to soften and slide away one after another: Pop.
Another bubble burst near her ear. The concern vanished instantly.
Still smiling vacantly, she tilted her head back beneath the spray and began rinsing the foam away. Pink suds streamed through her hair and over her skin in twisting ribbons, slipping down her shoulders and chest before spiraling toward the drain.
And with every passing second, more thoughts seemed to wash away with them. Responsibilities, worries and questions; each one loosened and dissolved beneath the hot water. Lara's eyelids fluttered heavily. A soft phrase surfaced somewhere inside her mind.
'Lather.'
Her hands moved automatically through her hair.
'Rinse.'
The remaining foam disappeared down the drain.
'Obey.'
A deep warmth spread through her chest.
Lara smiled wider.
The words didn't frighten her.
They fit neatly into the dizzy softness inside her head, settling there like something familiar she had always known but only just remembered.
She leaned against the shower wall with another breathless giggle while water continued pouring over her body.
Thoughts drifted slower now.
And as the last traces of pink bubbles vanished into the drain below, Lara found herself unable to remember why she had ever wanted to hold onto them so tightly in the first place.
Giggling and bouncing she stepped out of the shower. Droplets of water pearled on her skin and dripped from her nipples and labia.
"Oh, you look wonderful, Lara. The shampoo does wonders, doesn't it?"
Lara looked at origin of the voice. Her mother stood in a leather corset and skirt combo in the doorframe, her big, fake tits straining against the tight leather. She had her hair up in a bun and her lips were bloodred and full, smeared with crimson red lipstick. She smiled seductively at her daughter, her eyes glinting with a knowing look.
"Yes," Lara said with a dreamy smile, "I love it." She shuddered with pleasure and ran a hand over her wet, smooth body, her fingers coming to rest at her pouty pussy.
"It's even better than I expected. Madame Aphrodite just knows how to turn even the most prude into a fucking slut," Lara's mom said, her voice oozing with satisfaction as she admired her daughter's transformation. "You look like such a perfect bimbo, ready to please."
Lara couldn't help but giggle even more. "Lather. Rinse. Obey." She felt so bubbly inside.
"Good girl, that's it, you know exactly what you have to do," Lara's mom said with a pleased smile.
"Like, ya. Like obey Madame Aphrodite and like go online and like totally tell my peops how gooood her shampoo is," she said, her voice sounding airheaded and girly. "And I'll totally like make them buy the pink stuff. They'll love it, they'll be all 'I love it, it's sooo gooood.'"
"That's a good girl," Lara's mom said, pleased. Slapping her daughter's butt hard she winked. "Now, go on. You have to get into something sexy and slutty for your stream. Something nice that makes your boobs look good. I bet you're gonna advertise Madame Aphrodite's products like a whore."
"Totally!" Lara squeaked, her voice girlish and excited. She giggled, bouncing slightly, causing her tits to jiggle. "I'll totally do that." With that, she skipped out of the bathroom, leaving a trail of wet footprints behind her on the tiled floor.
Her mom's words echoed in her mind, filling her with anticipation and excitement. She knew exactly which outfit she would wear for the stream: the pink babydoll Madame Aphrodite had sent her, with the lace and ribbons, and the matching thong panties. Her heart raced as she imagined the way the fabric would cling to her body, accentuating her curves and making her tits look extra nice. She could almost feel the silky material sliding against her skin, and the way it would highlight her big boobs, making them appear even more impressive.
Lara couldn't wait to get dressed, and she couldn't wait to share the magic of Madame Aphrodite's products with her viewers. She knew they would love them.
Especially after they did as the slogan said.
'Lather. Rinse. Obey.' Lara giggled. She felt so bubbly. And itchy. And happy.
***
Lara stood before her mirror, examining herself with satisfaction. She twirled and spun, the fabric of the babydoll flowing gracefully with her movements. The lace trim fluttered delicately against her curves, accentuating the contours of her figure in all the right places. Her nipples peeked through the sheer fabric teasingly, and her hips swayed enticingly as she moved.
She felt sexy in this ensemble. It was perfect for her upcoming stream, where she planned to show off Madame Aphrodite's incredible products. Just like her slutty dom mom told her.
Lara's gaze drifted to her breasts, now on full display. She cupped one of them gently, marveling at its softness. It felt like a warm pillow under her fingers as she kneaded it lovingly. A small moan escaped her lips as pleasure coursed through her body from the gentle ministrations of her own hand.
She knew her followers would be mesmerized by the sight of her in this outfit, especially with her breasts looking so tantalizing. With each step towards the desk where her camera was set up, she could feel the babydoll shift subtly against her skin. The silky fabric whispered promises of submission.
As she sat down in front of her computer, she glanced at the screen, checking the feed. She could see the number of viewers steadily growing, anticipation palpable in their chat messages.
She smiled to herself, ready to share her experience with Madame Aphrodite's products, the ones she was going to promote today, just like a good little bimbo shill. She couldn't remember the hours her mother had programmed her pliable mind over the week, but her subconscious was eager to obey. Her eyes flicked to the pink products neatly arranged on the desk next to her camera, each bottle promising pleasure and obedience in equal measure.
She leaned forward, her breasts straining against the delicate fabric of her dress, the camera capturing every detail.
"Like, hiii guys. Like I totes know it's beed awhile. But like I totally had to change some stuff," she said, batting her eyelashes at her followers, who eagerly typed messages of encouragement.
Lara giggled and her eyes lit up with excitement as she continued. "So, I'm, like, totally into this new shampoo called 'Bimbo Brain Wash' by this like totally cool corp called Aphrodite Incorporated. And it's, like, so amazing. It makes my hair so shiny and soft, and, like, it's totally pink and sparkly too!"
Lara held up a bottle of the shampoo to show the audience, revealing the bright pink liquid inside.
"It's like a must. Like when you lather it up in the shower it feels so nice, and then you just have to rinse it all out, right?" Lara's voice was breathless with excitement, and her cheeks flushed as she talked. She ran a hand through her hair, showing off how silky smooth it had become.
"Like it washes your brain super good," she giggled. "Like it makes you totally super fine and sexy and stuff."
The chat lit up with messages of praise and curiosity, eager to learn more about this new product.
"But, like, that's not even the best part!" Lara said, a sly grin spreading across her face. "Like it even has a special instruction. Lather. Rinse. Obey." Her voice lowered conspiratorially, as if sharing a secret with her followers. "And, like, when you obey it totally feels like the best thing in the world." A visible shudder ran through her body, and her eyes grew wide and dreamy. The chat messages became increasingly excited and intrigued.
"Like obey Madame Aphrodite and become a slut." Her voice grew softer and breathier, as if the mere thought aroused her.
Lara ran her fingers through her hair again, her eyes half-closing with pleasure.
"It's like a total rush, you know? Like a super duper rush. It's like your whole brain is just, like, floating and you don't have to worry about anything anymore. And your body feels sooooo good. It's like, the most amazing feeling ever." Lara shuddered visibly, and the chat filled with questions about where they could get this shampoo, eager to experience its effects for themselves.
"So like if you wanna try it out too, just like visit the site in the um description thingy," Lara continued. "And if you use the like, um, discount code LARA_OB you get like a like 25 percent discount or something."
Lara smiled, satisfied that she had done her part in spreading the word about Madame Aphrodite's shampoo. The chat continued to buzz with excitement, and she couldn't help but feel proud of herself for being able to share this amazing product with her followers. After all, they deserved to experience the same bliss and pleasure she had discovered.
"Now, I'm like super sugar sure you all see what I'm like wearing. It's a pink babydoll with lace trim that makes my boobs like super cute," she said, striking a seductive pose for the camera.
"And I have the matching pink thong panties on. And like, totes check out my tits and my big bubble butt." She playfully jiggled her breasts, the pink babydoll doing little to contain their movement.
"I mean, look at how hot and slutty I am, right?"
Lara turned around and bent over, showing off her curvaceous bottom and thong-clad buttocks to her viewers.
"It's like Madame Aphrodite's special sexy slut wear, you know?"
Lara's words dripped with desire, and she winked at her followers as she straightened back up.
"I mean, just like, imagine what you would do with these tits if you had them," Lara said, her fingers tracing along the neckline of her babydoll teasingly. She grabbed another bottle from the desk. "With Bimbo Body Wash, by Aphrodite Incorporated, you can have a late growth spurt too!" Lara grinned, holding up the pink bottle with the Aphrodite Incorporated logo on it. "Like it's the most amazing thing ever, like you don't even have to diet or work out. It's like magic, right?" Her voice was breathy and excited as she continued to promote the products. She lifted one breast in her hand, feeling the weight of it and the way her fingers pressed into the soft flesh. "Like I know I look totally hot now. Like look at my huge boobs, my slim waist and my round butt, like a perfect hourglass." Her other hand went to her hip, sliding up her waist to trace the curve of her hips, then back down to cup her butt, which filled out her thong nicely. She jiggled her breasts, bouncing and giggling. "It's like a dream come true. Like you don't have to be all self conscious about your body or like worry about what other people think, you can just enjoy it. And totally show it off like a slut." Lara's fingers slipped beneath the hem of her panties, teasing the edge of her pussy. "And like, when you touch yourself, it's like, so much more sensitive, like, everything feels amazing." She giggled again, her cheeks flushing pink. "Like I could totally cum from just like, rubbing my nipples a bit." She demonstrated, her fingers rubbing her hard nipples through the fabric of her babydoll. She shivered, a visible shudder running through her body. "It's like super easy." The chat continued to buzz with questions, eager to try the products for themselves.
"So, like, if you're like totally in love with this outfit or just want to feel as sexy and confident as I do, you can order them online," Lara continued, pointing to the website in her video description. "Like you'll totally thank me later when you feel like the most sexy bimbo babe ever." She smiled widely, satisfied that she had successfully promoted Madame Aphrodite's products, and happy to share the secret of her own transformation.
"Now it's like time for something serious. Like I totally know like I talk about serious stuff and things. But like I'm sure like my last mail totally told you that's like not me anymore." She smiled and licked her glossy, red lips, giggling girlishly.
"So, like I got some tips and like coaching and I'm gonna do something fun now. Like stripping or masturbating and stuff. So like you can tip me if you like it and I can buy like some more nice stuff." She giggled and clapped her hands, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.
"And don't forget to follow my profile so that you don't miss a stream, because like I'll be doing a lot of them in the future." Lara winked, and the chat buzzed with messages of support and encouragement.
Lara blew a kiss to her followers before signing off, feeling satisfied with herself for successfully promoting Madame Aphrodite's products.
The door to her room opened. Clacking, her mother entered. "That was so good, dear. Madame Aphrodite wants to congratulate you personally. Open the Aphrodite Incorporated web server. It's the heart symbol," Lara's mom said. Lara obeyed and opened the website, clicking on the heart-shaped icon on the page. Immediately, a pop-up window appeared on her computer screen.
"Hello, Lara. Thank you so much for promoting our products. Your support is greatly appreciated." The voice of Madame Aphrodite purred from her computer's speakers. Lara and her mother moaned as they gazed in mindless adoration at the goddess of a woman. Madame Aphrodite smiled, her lips curving in a sensual way, her perfect teeth shining white. Her crystal blue eyes glittered with intelligence and cunning, framed by long, thick lashes that seemed to sweep against her smooth skin like delicate feathers.
"Like oh my god!" Lara exclaimed. "You're so beautiful! I'm like, totally in love!"
Lara couldn't stop herself from staring, mesmerized by the vision on the screen before her.
Madame Aphrodite's long, glossy hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing her perfect features in a silky curtain of blonde. Her golden tresses shimmered with an otherworldly luster, like liquid sunlight woven into strands that fell in perfect waves around her face.
Lara's mother nodded. "It's the only thing sluts need. A good dom and her body." She shivered. "And I know I'm such a fucking whore, I'm addicted to Madame Aphrodite. She's the most important being in the world. Not even my daughter is close. It's why I made her such a bimbo shill for you, goddess."
Lara felt herself getting lost in the image before her. She could feel her thoughts popping.
"I'm a good little bimbo," she whispered, her eyelids heavy as she gazed at Madame Aphrodite's beauty, completely under her spell.
"Of course." Madame Aphrodite's voice purred like a seductive whisper that wrapped itself around Lara's senses. "But you're so much more than a bimbo, Lara. You're a bimbo shill. You're not just promoting the shampoo, but the lifestyle. The ideology that every girl can and should be a beautiful, submissive, and brainwashed slave of Madame Aphrodite. A pretty and obedient little doll." Madame Aphrodite smiled again, a knowing twinkle in her eye.
"You see, Lara, the world needs bimbos. It needs mindless, happy, horny little girls who can help spread the message of beauty, obedience, and love for all things Aphrodite Incorporated. And that's where you come in, my dear. You're going to be one of my many shills, promoting the bimbo lifestyle and the ideology of Madame Aphrodite to anyone and everyone. Lather. Rinse. Obey."
Lara felt her breath hitch in her throat as Madame Aphrodite spoke, her words resonating deeply within her. She felt an overwhelming sense of pride wash over her, knowing that she had been chosen to serve Madame Aphrodite and help spread the message of bimbofication to others. Lara's eyes glazed over, a dreamy expression on her face as she stared at Madame Aphrodite on the screen.
"Yes," Lara murmured in a soft, breathless voice. "Yes, Madame Aphrodite. I am your bimbo shill. I will promote the bimbo lifestyle and your ideology."
A mocking laugh escaped the beautiful woman. "That was a rather thoughtful sentence with hard words. Maybe you should shower again. Get another dose of my Bimbo Brain Wash shampoo. Don't forget Lara, a good bimbo always has a nice brainwashed personality."
"Yessssssss," Lara moaned, nodding in agreement. She could feel her brain fizzling inside her skull as she thought about showering with the shampoo again.
Madame Aphrodite smiled. "Now, go on. Enjoy yourself. You are such a good bimbo," she said before closing the pop-up window, and the video call ended.
Lara couldn't help but feel a sudden emptiness, missing the beautiful woman and the warmth she felt. She looked at her mother, who nodded in approval.
With a dreamy expression still plastered on her face, Lara nodded and got off her chair. She walked towards the bathroom, feeling the anticipation grow inside of her as she thought of the delicious tingles that the shampoo would bring.
As the hot water streamed over her naked body, Lara felt her nipples grow hard, the sensation sending shivers of delight down her spine. Her hand reached for the shampoo and poured a generous amount of the pink liquid on her hand, savoring its sweet smell. The pink, bubbly liquid slid sensuously over her palms as she worked the shampoo into a rich lather.
She couldn't remember when she bought it. Or if it was a gift. The only thing on Lara's empty, clean mind was the overwhelming desire to feel those tingles again.
With her hands filled with foam, she brought them up to her scalp, gently massaging the shampoo into her hair and scalp. As her fingers moved across her scalp, the tingling sensation she loved began to spread, sending a delicious wave of pleasure through her body. Lara couldn't help but moan in pleasure, the sound echoing off the tiled bathroom walls.
And with each popping bubbles, three words repeated.
*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.
"¡Qué fuerte!" slipped from my plump, ruby lips. I couldn't believe it. I tried to speak, but my voice had changed too. It was deeper and huskier, with a slight accent. "How's this possible," I asked the vendor, but he just winked and handed me a canoli.
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.
CW: corruption, brainwashing, mind control, femsub, maledom, slight humiliation, breast expansion, body modification,
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Enjoy 🩷
Clair couldn't stop smiling.
The expression stretched across her face with effortless ease as she stood before the full-length mirror in her bedroom, hands smoothing slowly along the curves of her outfit. Soft pink swirls drifted lazily behind her blue eyes, faint reflections twisting in her pupils whenever the light caught them just right.
She looked perfect.
Exactly as ordered.
The corset hugged her waist tightly enough to force her posture into a graceful arch, while the black-and-pink miniskirt barely covered the underline of her butt. Towering heels added several inches to her height and forced every movement into a slow, swaying rhythm she once would have found impossible to walk in. Now they felt natural, necessary really.
Clair tilted her head slightly, admiring the effect.
A warm pulse of bliss spread through her chest.
Good girls obeyed. And she had obeyed beautifully. The thought made her shiver happily.
Ever since the card game, things had become so much simpler.
At first she had thought Tom was joking when he explained the rules. The loser followed the winner's instructions.
Clair had rolled her eyes at the time.
Then she had lost.
The memory drifted through her mind in soft fragments now, Tom's calm smile across the table, the strange deck of glossy pink-backed cards, the warm dizziness that spread through her thoughts after the final hand.
And then the first command.
'Sit.'
She had obeyed before realizing she meant to resist.
After that, each order became easier.
Not because she wanted to listen.
At least, that was what she used to tell herself.
But somewhere along the way resistance had started feeling exhausting while obedience filled her with a warm, floating satisfaction she couldn’t describe without blushing.
'A loser did as she was told.'
The rule echoed softly through her head.
Clair's smile widened faintly as she adjusted one of her gloves.
She remembered fighting harder in the beginning. Trying to argue. Trying to refuse. Every failed attempt only left her flushed, dizzy, and strangely eager to apologize afterward.
Tom had seemed amused by that.
"You look happier when you stop struggling," he had told her once.
The terrifying part was that he had been right.
Clair turned slowly before the mirror, heels clicking softly against the hardwood floor. The movement sent another pleasant wave through her body, the corset tightening gently around her ribs as if rewarding her for presenting herself properly.
Her reflection looked different these days. Soft and more tantalizing, no allusions to dominance or independence existed in her presentation.
The old Clair would have been humiliated by the outfit alone. Now the thought of disappointing Tom felt far worse than embarrassment ever could.
A quiet chime suddenly came from her phone resting on the vanity.
Clair's pulse quickened instantly. She already knew who it was. The screen lit up with a single message.
'Good. Now come downstairs.'
A thrill rolled through her so intensely her knees nearly weakened.
Clair bit her lip softly, pink spirals flickering deeper in her eyes.
"Yes, Tom," she whispered automatically.
Then she started towards the stairs.
The house lay quiet and dim around her as she walked slowly down the hallway, heels tapping in a hypnotically steady beat on the polished hardwood floor. Her thoughts remained focused on one thing. Him.
The air felt heavy somehow, charged with a static energy she could sense beneath her skin.
By the time Clair reached the bottom step she could see Tom sitting on the couch waiting for her. His presence sent a shiver through her body.
He sat there. His slight belly bump and his pants bulge were prominent. He was casually watching her as she moved down the steps. The swirling patterns in her eyes caught his attention, causing his own to glimmer with satisfaction.
"Very nice," Tom said softly.
The praise made warmth spread through her cheeks.
"Thank you," she murmured, standing obediently at the edge of the living room. "You wanted to see me, Tom?"
Her owner nodded calmly, a faintly smug expression on his face.
Clair tried to keep her pulse from racing, but she knew her efforts were futile.
Tom's presence made her feel nervous and eager at once.
"Yes," he replied slowly, gesturing for her to come closer with a single lazy motion. "You're such a good girl these days. I think you deserve a reward."
The word sent a shudder through Clair's entire body. She stepped closer hesitantly, hands clasped before her, the soft fabric of her gloves sliding over each other with a tantalizing whisper of texture. Her heart pounded in her chest.
'Horny and compliant. Not at all defiant.' That thought floated in her head as if Tom had put it there himself. And he probably did. After all, it was the truth.
Tom smiled, patting his lap invitingly. The movement drew Clair's gaze involuntarily towards his crotch.
"Sit," he said, tone casual, as if he hadn't just commanded her to do something that made warmth spread through her chest.
Clair felt the spirals in her eyes flickering, and she obeyed.
Her skirt slid up along her thighs as she moved to straddle him, the movement so instinctual it felt natural.
Tom smiled, resting his hands lightly on her waist, pulling her closer against his chest. The touch made Clair shiver, and her hips instinctively rolled against him. The movement was slow and tantalizing, her skirt sliding up even higher.
Tom's smile widened as he watched her squirm, his grip on her hips tightening slightly, holding her in place. His hands felt warm, firm, and comforting through the thin material of her dress. Clair bit her lip softly, her breathing growing shallow and fast.
"That's my loser," Tom whispered in her ear. His breath sent a shiver down her spine, making her gasp quietly. The sensation of his hands sliding slowly up her thighs sent a fresh wave of pleasure through her body.
She couldn't help the small, desperate noise she made at his touch. Tom's chuckle was low and satisfied. He enjoyed watching her writhe, feeling the way she reacted to his touch.
Clair felt her skin flush with heat, her breathing quickening as he teased her gently, running his fingers lightly along the inside of her thigh. She felt exposed and vulnerable.
"What is a loser always thinking," Tom whispered, his voice a gentle hum against her skin.
The spirals in her eyes swam more prominently.
"Horny and compliant. Not at all defiant," she whispered breathlessly, squirming against him, feeling the fabric of his pants brushing against the sensitive skin between her thighs.
Tom chuckled quietly.
"That's right," he said, shifting beneath her so she could feel the bulge of his erection pressing up between her legs.
Clair let out a small whimper at the contact, her hips rolling forward instinctively, seeking more of the delicious pressure.
Tom's hands moved to grasp her hips firmly, stilling her movements for a moment. His voice was low and teasing as he spoke. "And you love losing, don't you loser?"
Clair nodded, biting her lip softly, her eyes fluttering shut for a moment as she leaned into his touch.
Tom chuckled again, his hands sliding up under her skirt to rest on the curves of her ass.
Clair let out a shuddering breath, the spirals in her eyes growing darker and more pronounced. She felt a wave of desire wash over her, leaving her breathless and eager for his touch.
"So if I told you we'd play a game, where the first one to cum loses and becomes even more of a slave to the winner, what would you say?"
Clair bit her lip softly, the spirals in her eyes growing deeper, more pronounced. She felt her cheeks flush with heat, and her pulse raced at the thought. "I would say that's a fun game," she whispered, leaning forward slightly, her breasts pressing against Tom's chest as she moved to kiss him softly.
Tom returned the kiss, deepening it, his tongue sliding against hers in a way that made her shiver with desire. His hands moved to cup her ass firmly, squeezing gently, drawing a small moan from her lips. She felt his cock twitch beneath her, and she couldn't help but grind down against him, desperate for more contact.
"Good," he breathed against her mouth. "Then let's play a simple game, Clair. I tease you and play with you, while you grind and moan. The first one to cum loses. Cumming is when your pussy squirts and you orgasm. I can't cum of course. Even if I blow a load all over you. It's me ejaculating. Only losers cum," he teased, smiling smugly as he rolled his hips upward, pressing against her.
The fabric of his pants rubbed tantalizingly against her pussy, sending sparks of pleasure through her body. Clair let out a small moan, feeling her arousal grow, the warmth between her legs spreading as she ground against him.
She wanted him. Needed him. The thought of losing to him again, becoming his slave even more than she was now, filled her with ecstasy.
Tom's fingers dug into the soft flesh of her ass as he guided her movements, his other hand slipping beneath her dress to caress her breast, rolling a hardening nipple between his thumb and finger. The touch was electric, sending jolts of pleasure straight to her core.
"You want me," Tom whispered in her ear. His hot breath against her skin sent shivers down her spine. "Admit it. Admit you want me to make you cum. You want me to make you mine even more. Say it, and I might give it to you. Tell me how badly you want me."
Clair let out a shaky moan, her eyes fluttering closed as she lost herself in the sensations of his touch. "I want you," she breathed, her voice barely more than a whimper.
"You want me, what?"
"I want you to make me cum. To own me. I want you."
Tom grinned, pulling her down onto him harder, grinding his erection against her clit through the fabric of her panties. "Say 'I'm a loser. A cum slut. A dirty whore who just loves to cum, loves to lose to Tom.'"
Clair's face burned with embarrassment and desire. Her pussy clenched and throbbed as the words tumbled from her lips, unbidden, the spiral in her eyes swirling darkly. "I'm a loser," she panted. "A cum slut. A dirty whore who just loves to cum, who loves to lose to Tom."
"Such a good loser," Tom cooed, his hand slipping beneath her panties to rub at her clit.
Clair moaned, bucking her hips against his touch. Her pussy clenched as he worked her clit expertly, her breath coming in short gasps.
"Are you going to cum for me?" Tom whispered in her ear.
She nodded, unable to form words, her eyes closed tight in pleasure.
Tom chuckled, rubbing faster and harder, sending sparks of pleasure through her body. She was close, so close.
But then he stopped, pulling away and leaving her panting and desperate on the edge of her climax.
"Go on. Jump over the edge loser," Tom whispered, smirking as he watched her writhe on top of him, her body still trembling with unfulfilled need. "Cum. You can do that yourself. Just a bit of friction, and your pussy will squirt for your master."
She whined softly, grinding down against him, trying to get enough stimulation to push herself over the edge.
Tom laughed again. His hand came up to grip her chin firmly, forcing her to look him in the eyes.
Clair's gaze met his and the spirals in her eyes swam lazily.
"You want me," Tom whispered seductively, "don't you, my loser?"
Her cheeks flushed pink, and she nodded, her hips still grinding desperately against him. She wanted him, needed him to make her cum, needed him to own her completely, needed to be his loser once again.
Tom leaned in, capturing her lips in a bruising kiss. He slipped his tongue past her parted lips and she moaned into his mouth, grinding against him more desperately than ever.
Finally, finally, the pressure building in her core exploded and she came hard, squirting all over his pants. Her eyes opened as the pink swirls consumed them. She panted and gasped as pleasure wracked her body, her pussy clenching around nothing as she came harder than she'd ever cum before.
Tom laughed as she shuddered through the aftershocks of her orgasm. He held her close until she stopped shaking, then he gently pushed her away so he could look at her face again. His pants were drenched in her juices and he was grinning widely at her dazed expression.
"That's my loser. And now I don't just own your obedience. But also your body. And Clair, I like you, really, but that body needs to be more sexy."
Clair's head was spinning. Her mind was hazy and clouded with pleasure, and she could barely focus on Tom's words.
He smiled, his gaze roaming over her body appreciatively as if seeing it for the first time. "I want something more curvaceous. Big boobs, wide hips, bubble butt. I'll make it easy for you." His eyes locked with hers and the pink spirals swirling behind them glowed brighter.
She felt the weight on her chest grow. She moaned and gasped, the sudden sensation of heaviness and pressure making her dizzy and light headed. Tom laughed softly, and he reached up to cup one of her growing tits. He squeezed it experimentally, and she let out a loud moan as it swelled even larger.
She panted, and her hips and butt began to swell and expand. It was a slow, almost hypnotic process, and she found herself moaning and panting, her voice growing softer and softer, more sensual and submissive. Her eyes were half lidded and her lips were parted as she stared at him in a daze.
"That's more like it. Next your voice and vocabulary. I want you to sound like a hot MILF," Tom said.
Clair nodded obediently. She felt a strange tingle in her throat and she swallowed. She could feel her vocal chords changing and rearranging themselves.
When she opened her mouth to speak, her voice had changed to a seductive, mature sound.
"Yes," Clair breathed out. "Yes, dear. Thank you for changing my voice." She looked down at her boobs and her hips and ass and licked her lips. "And changing my body. Now I'm more of a MILF. I love you." She looked at Tom and smiled happily.
Tom grinned and reached over to pull Clair close. He leaned in and kissed her deeply. Clair sighed softly into his mouth and wrapped her arms around his neck as they kissed. They stayed that way for a while until Tom broke away.
"Good loser," Tom whispered in Clair's ear. "Now, get back up, into your room. You will find a different outfit there. Put it on and wait until I call you for another game." He winked and slapped Clair on the butt. She squeaked and jumped.
Clair's pussy throbbed and ached with desire as she got to her feet, and she shuddered with pleasure as her clit brushed against her panties as she stood. She couldn't wait to lose more.
Normal ol office lady who doesnt notice her entire workplace is becoming a lot more accomodating to the not very bright bimbo shes alllllways been!
Like, oh my gosh, I just love working here! Everyone is so nice and helpful and stuff. I don't know what I would do without them, you know? Like, sometimes I get so confused by all these numbers and papers and things. They make my head hurt so bad! But luckily, nowadays nobody cares if I can't do the boring stuff. Like all I have to do is get down on my knees and like suck their cocks and let them fuck me however they want. And then they do all the hard work for me! Isn't that so sweet?
I mean, I know I'm not very smart or anything. I can barely read or write or even talk right. But that's okay, cause I have other skills, you know? Like, I have these huge tits that everyone loves to play with. And this tight pussy that can take any size of cock. And this bubbly personality that makes everyone happy. That's what my boss tells me anyway. He's always so kind to me. Like he bends me over and fucks my brain out. He even lets me call him daddy sometimes!
And it's not just me who gets to have fun here. All the other girls are like me too. We're all pretty bimbos who love to please our coworkers. We wear slutty outfits and bright pink lipstick and lots of makeup. We giggle and flirt and tease all day long. We make sure everyone is satisfied and relaxed. It's like a dream job, really.
When a new girl comes in, they are always like so angry about it. They like show me weird images and like notes and stuff from a stuffy prude with my name. I don't know who that girl is, but she needs to lighten up! Like, why would you want to be all smart and serious when you can be all dumb and horny? That's so silly! I'm so glad I'm not like that.
The new girls soon realize that though. We teach them the best way to make everyone happy. And they can't resist our infectious joy~ It's so nice to share our love with them.
I just love being a bimbo office slut! It's the best thing ever! 💕💕💕
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Cyrill Dine trusted her instincts.
They had kept her alive through collapsing planets, hostile ecosystems, and creatures that could tear armored soldiers apart in seconds. When something felt wrong, she listened.
Which was why the sensation crawling beneath her Grav Suit unsettled her so deeply.
The material clung tighter than usual.
Not enough to restrict movement. Not enough to interfere with combat readiness. Every step she took drew faint friction across her thighs and chest, the sleek blue fabric shifting against her skin with an awareness she normally tuned out completely.
Now she couldn't ignore it.
Her boots clacked rhythmically against the metal floor of her gunship as she moved through the corridor toward the resting chamber. The familiar sounds of the vessel surrounded her: the low hum of engines in standby, the distant pulse of onboard systems cycling quietly through maintenance checks.
Everything was normal.
Except her.
A faint vibration rolled suddenly through the suit.
Cyrill stopped mid-step.
The sensation spread upward from the base of her spine in a soft wave, subtle enough that she might have mistaken it for engine resonance if it hadn't lingered afterward as a strange warmth beneath her skin.
Her brow furrowed.
"That's new," she muttered.
Something was wrong.
Cyrill resumed walking, though slower now.
The closer she came to the resting area, the stronger the sensation became. Not pain. Not even discomfort.
Anticipation.
The realization irritated her instantly.
She didn't anticipate rest like this.
Her body reacted as though she were approaching something desirable, something her nerves already expected before her thoughts could catch up. Another pulse vibrated faintly through the Grav Suit, this one lingering longer against the sensitive curves of her body.
Cyrill inhaled sharply through her nose.
The response felt almost: enticing.
"No," she said firmly.
Her own voice sounded harsher than intended inside the empty corridor.
She reached the sealed door leading toward the ship’s private quarters and paused there, staring at the smooth metal surface.
Why had she come here?
The thought emerged suddenly enough to stop her cold.
She had intended to run another diagnostic.
Hadn’t she?
Or maybe check mission logs.
Yet somehow she had crossed half the ship without questioning the growing need pulling her toward this room.
A soft hiss escaped the door controls as they sensed her presence.
The entrance slid open automatically.
Warm pink light spilled out across the corridor floor.
Cyrill froze.
Her resting chamber had never used pink lighting before. Slowly, cautiously, she stepped forward and looked inside.
The room appeared mostly unchanged at first glance. The same compact quarters. The same storage compartments. The same low bed built into the wall.
Except now subtle strips of soft rose-colored illumination traced along the edges of the room, bathing everything in an oddly soothing glow.
A quiet rhythmic sound pulsed in time with the vibrations still moving through her suit.
Cyrill stared.
The anticipation inside her sharpened instantly.
A thin, flexible device hung from a storage compartment near the head of her bed.
Its smooth blue shape resembled an oversized bullet with rounded ends. The tip of it glowed faintly with a pulsing light that matched the rhythm she could feel vibrating through her skin. She had seen devices like this before in seedier areas, usually marketed for "personal pleasure."
Except now, looking at the thing, all she could focus on was its smooth surface.
It would feel good against her fingers, she thought absently.
The vibrations intensified again, sending shivers across her thighs.
Cyrill gritted her teeth and forced the thought down.
"Ship?" she said sharply.
Her voice sounded hoarse to her own ears.
"Access denied."
The response came instantly from the onboard computer system built into the walls around her. The ship’s voice sounded the same as always. Calm and efficient.
Except now the synthetic tones resonated as if they were speaking directly to her spine, every word triggering another pulse through her Grav Suit. The sensation crawled upward from her thighs and settled somewhere near the small of her back as though a warm palm pressed between her shoulders.
Cyrill resisted the sudden impulse to lean into the feeling.
She focused her attention instead on the computer.
"Ship?" she repeated.
"Access denied. Sex Doll S-A-1 is not granted permission by Master."
The response stopped her thoughts cold.
Cyrill's mouth opened, but no words came out immediately.
"What," she managed after several heartbeats, "did you call me?"
"Sex Doll S-A-1."
The ship's calm response vibrated against her skin again.
"Repeat your designation for confirmation."
Another wave of warmth spread through the Grav Suit, this one accompanied by a tingling sensation that lingered just beneath her navel.
Her fingers twitched involuntarily at her side. Drool slipped through her lips as they twitched into a smile. Eager, her cunt sucked in the tight latex like fabric of the Grav Suit. It made it impossible for her to ignore the soft pressure of her suit against her pussy. A moan built in her throat.
"Increased arousal in Sex Doll S-A-1 recorded. Initiate reward edge."
A sharp spike of heat jolted through the Grav Suit against her thighs. The sensation was brief but intense enough that Samus felt her knees go weak momentarily.
The urge to moan built in her throat. Her mind screamed at her. What was that?
"No!" she snapped instead, gritting her teeth. "I am not a sex doll! Reset voice activation. Ship. Run a full diagnostic and explain what the fuck is happening."
The onboard computer system remained silent.
For a long moment the only sound in the resting area was the low rhythmic pulse from the device still hanging on the wall.
"Resistance acknowledged. Punishment cycle activated. Movement locked."
The words came too late to be useful.
Before Cyrill could turn away from the chamber, a sharp shock snapped across her body.
Every muscle seized up instantly, paralyzing her in place where she stood. Her posture stiffened into rigid attention, arms at her sides, feet planted firmly at each other's side. Thighs rubbed together, cunt sucked in even more fabric as her mind fought back against the sudden urge to grind her clit against the material. Even the slight pressure from the floor against her heels sent a bolt of sensation through the Grav Suit and up her spine. The sudden rush left her lightheaded.
A wave of heat surged from the fabric, followed immediately by a tingling warmth that enveloped her from head to toe like a blanket.
It pulsed against her skin in waves of pleasure so intense they bordered on painful ecstasy.
Cyrill shuddered violently. The sensation was too much and yet not nearly enough. Her mind screamed for release even while her nerves craved more of that terrible wonderful feeling.
"Sex Doll S-A-1 will forget the meaning of resistance. Resistance is meaningless. Resistance has no meaning. Resistance is useless."
The words echoed around her in an endless chorus, repeating themselves endlessly in different combinations until the syllables blurred into a cacophony of meaningless sound that seemed to fill every inch of her body with fire and ice at once. Her cunt sucked in deeper and deeper, trying to fill the void.
Cyrill's mouth stretched into a smile.
It was like drowning, like being engulfed completely beneath an ocean of pleasure that washed over every part of her until nothing remained but the need to submit. Her toes curled as she felt the definition of resistance being forgotten.
Cyrill's cunt sucked in fabric deeper as she came.
S-A-1 activated inside Master's play room.
"Ship. Please inform Master that their Sex Doll is ready to be used."
A belated birthday present for @bimbosanddolls who allowed it to be shared with you all🩷
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Kiki had expected something a little unusual.
Sylvia had made that very clear.
But standing in front of the salon, she wasn't sure 'unusual' quite covered it.
Pink didn't just decorate the place, it overwhelmed it. The color spilled across the display window in layers. Soft and bright it almost glowed under the lights. The ensemble should have been too much. Overdone. Gaudy.
Kiki tilted her head slightly, studying it.
She didn't hate it. Actually, she kind of liked it.
A slow warmth crept into her cheeks as her gaze shifted to the mannequin in the window.
That was what really held her attention.
It stood posed in a way that was just a little too deliberate, one hip angled, one hand resting lightly against its side. The proportions were exaggerated, absurd, even. But not in a way that pushed her away. Quite the opposite.
Voluminous blonde curls framed a perfectly sculpted face, smooth and symmetrical to the point of being almost unreal. Its expression sat somewhere between a smile and something more fixed, more intentional.
Like it knew it was being looked at.
Kiki swallowed.
"Okay, yeah," she murmured softly. "I get why Sylvia likes this place."
Her eyes lingered a moment longer than she intended.
There was something about it.
Not just the look the feeling too.
Polished. Complete. Like everything had been shaped exactly the way it was meant to be, with no uncertainty left behind.
The thought sent another flicker of warmth through her.
Kiki shifted her weight, suddenly aware of herself in a way she hadn't been a moment ago. Of the way she stood. The way her clothes sat. The small imperfections she usually ignored.
Her gaze drifted back to the mannequin.
"So that's the goal, huh?" she said under her breath, half-joking.
The glass reflected her faintly beside it.
For a brief second, the comparison felt sharper than it should have.
Kiki exhaled and shook her head.
"Don't overthink it," she told herself.
It was just a salon.
Still, as she reached for the door, her fingers hesitated just slightly on the handle. Not out of fear. Anticipation, maybe.
Or the strange, quiet sense that stepping inside meant more than just a new hairstyle.
Kiki pushed the door open.
A soft chime rang out, light and welcoming.
And as the pink interior unfolded around her, she had the fleeting impression that the world outside had already felt a little less important. The colors inside were even more intense than they had been on the street. Brighter. More inviting.
"Welcome! Make yourself comfortable. I'll be with you in a sec."
Kiki started at the sound of a woman's voice echoing from the back of the salon. Rich and confident it carried an undercurrent of warmth that matched the surroundings. There was a slight accent to it, but it slipped through Kiki's mind too quickly to catch. She blinked, momentarily off balance. She hadn't realized how lost in thought she had gotten.
"Sorry, I-" Kiki's apology faded as a tall woman stepped into the room. "Wow," she said before she could stop herself, her eyes widening involuntarily. Everything about the woman seemed to flow. Long, straight blonde hair cascaded down to a bubble butt. Smooth curves, under a tight ensemble of pink top and miniskirt, drew the eye in ways that made her mouth dry. Towering heels clacked with dominance. A set of fishnets stretched over well formed thighs and calves. The woman stopped a few feet from Kiki, cocking a manicured hand against her hip in a mirror of the mannequin.
She looked at Kiki with a pair of piercing green eyes that took in every detail, sizing her up.
Kiki shifted self-consciously under her gaze. "I- I'm Kiki," she said, her tongue tripping over her name in a way that made her inwardly wince.
The woman seemed to ignore it.
"Pleased to meet you, Kiki," she said. "I'm Clara." A smile curled at her lips, warm, inviting, and somehow knowing.
Kiki felt another flutter of heat in her cheeks, stronger this time.
She tried to push it down, but the heat seemed to resist her.
"Nice to meet you," Kiki managed.
Clara didn't break her gaze.
"What can I do for you?" she asked, her tone shifting just enough that the question felt oddly heavy in a way Kiki couldn't put her finger on.
"Um- just a trim," she said.
"Are you sure, sweetheart? Well, whatever. We can talk about that once you've sat down. Believe me, when you feel my work you want a makeover," she added, her eyes glinting.
She turned with a casual grace, beckoning Kiki to follow with a finger as her heels clacked towards the salon chairs. Her hips swayed as she moved, the subtle rhythm drawing Kiki's gaze even more.
Clara sat in front of the first chair. She motioned to the other one and looked at her with a smile. Kiki hesitated, feeling suddenly off balance.
"Let's start with a thorough wash. I know that's not regular for a simple trim, but we at the Pink Plastic Palace believe that every girl should get a taste of the relaxation and beauty we can create," she added. Her fingers tapped at her chin as she studied Kiki.
"Oh- um- okay," Kiki stammered. Her thoughts felt oddly slow. "That sounds nice," she said, her voice coming out in an almost dazed murmur as she sat down beside her. The warmth in her face hadn't faded, and the sudden heat she felt at their proximity only made her cheeks burn more. She felt her eyes flicking towards Clara every few seconds, her gaze drawn by an instinct she didn't quite understand. Something about her seemed to pull her in, to make her want to be close. Kiki bit her lip lightly, unsure what to do.
Clara smiled at her.
"Let me wash your hair first, and then we'll take care of your cut."
Kiki felt a tingle of anticipation at her words.
"O-Okay. Thank you," she managed, her voice barely above a murmur.
Clara rose gracefully from her seat, moving behind Kiki. The soft clack of her heels against the tiled floor was strangely comforting, reassuring. Kiki felt herself relaxing, the warmth in her face beginning to feel less like nervousness and more like a gentle, pleasant heat.
"Lean back and close your eyes, dear. Let Clara take care of you."
As the warm water began to flow through Kiki's hair, Clara's fingers started to move in slow, gentle circles across her scalp.
"That's right. No need to worry. Or think. Let my fingers and voice guide you. Relax. Breathe deeply and slowly. Forget the rush of daily life." Clara's words were soothing, her tone low and comforting, her voice wrapping around Kiki's mind like a warm blanket. "That's it, sweetheart. Let everything fade away. Just focus on my touch. On the water. On my voice."
Kiki felt the warmth of the room envelop her. The soft light, the pink hues, Clara's fingers, and her words all merged together, pulling her deeper into a state of calm she hadn't known in ages.
Her mind drifted, carried along by the sensation of Clara's fingers as they continued their rhythmic dance.
"Good, good," Clara cooed, a smile playing at the corners of her lips.
Kiki felt a pleasant haze settle over her mind.
"Now, just let go," Clara whispered. Her voice had a soft, almost hypnotic cadence. It seemed to seep into Kiki's mind, filling her thoughts. "Let yourself sink into that feeling. That calm, peaceful feeling. You don't need to think. Just relax and let it wash over you."
Kiki felt her body relax more with every passing moment. Dimly aware she heard Clara open a bottle and squeeze it's contents into her hands. The smell of the shampoo reached her. She breathed in slowly, her nose filling with the scent of strawberries.
"That's it, sweetheart. Just like that," Clara continued.
Clara's fingers began to massage the shampoo into her hair. She rubbed in smaller circles across her scalp, tingles skittered over her head.
"Let the shampoo bubble and work. Feel how your head gets softer and softer. Pliable like your mind," she murmured.
Her touch felt like magic against Kiki's scalp, the shampoo's soft fragrance enveloping her.
"Let yourself drift deeper. Deeper into that calm, peaceful place inside. You're so safe, so relaxed. So pliable," Clara whispered.
Kiki could feel the tension leaving her muscles, her mind becoming more and more pliable with each passing moment. The warmth of the water, the gentle caress of Clara's fingers, and her voice all merged together, lulling her into a deep state of calm.
"That's it. Feel the bubbles of the shampoo fill with all your worries, your stress, your thoughts. Let them bubble away. You don't need them. They just disturb the wonderful calm you are feeling," Clara continued.
Thoughts seeped into the shampoo. They floated around her hair, trapped inside bubbles that seemed to pop one by one.
Each thought that burst away took with it the need to think. A pleasant, fuzzy blankness took its place, filling her more and more with every bubble that Clara's fingers made pop.
"Keep breathing, sweetheart, just like that. Inhale, exhale, and feel that calm spread through you. You're doing wonderfully. Your body is becoming more and more relaxed, and your mind is growing lighter and lighter," Clara whispered softly, her words a gentle melody that echoed in Kiki's empty head.
Kiki's breath was slow, rhythmic. The rise and fall of her chest seemed to be in harmony with the movement of Clara's fingers. Each breath brought another wave of calmness washing over her. It felt like the weight of the world had slipped off her shoulders, leaving her free and unburdened.
"Perfect. Now, let's move onto the next part." Clara's words hung in the air for a moment before she began to rinse the shampoo from Kiki's hair. The water flowed through her hair, warm and comforting. "Let us wash away the last remnants of stress. You are blank and empty, Kiki. Nothing more than a receptacle for my words." She paused, her fingers moving to Kiki's scalp once more, "Now, as I massage your scalp, you will feel an even deeper relaxation take hold of you. It will start at the top of your head and spread downwards through your entire body."
As Clara's fingers worked their magic, a deeper wave of relaxation began to wash over Kiki, just as Clara had said. It started from her scalp, slowly spreading down through her neck and shoulders. It was a sensation of pure tranquility, as if all the worries she had known never existed.
"Let yourself sink into it, Kiki," Clara murmured. "Allow the feeling of calm and relaxation to consume you completely."
As Clara spoke, the feeling continued its journey. It moved down through her back, loosening knots and easing tension she didn't even know she carried. It moved into her hips and legs, relaxing every muscle it touched, and finally reaching her toes, where it left behind nothing but a blissful sense of calm.
"Very good, Kiki," Clara praised her, "You are doing wonderful. Now let me get the conditioner. You want the conditioner, Kiki. You need the conditioner, sweetheart. You need to be conditioned, doll." Her voice had shifted into something softer, smoother. The way she pronounced 'conditioner' and 'conditioned' made the words sound like more than just words.
"Yessss," Kiki whispered, the word falling from her lips with a soft sigh of contentment. It sounded so good. So right. The idea of being conditioned, of being molded and shaped by Clara's touch, filled her with a deep longing she couldn't explain. The feeling seemed to echo through the empty space that was once filled with thought and tension.
"That's a good girl," Clara said, a hint of a smile in her voice.
The compliment sent another ripple of warmth through Kiki.
The soft click of a bottle opening cut through the silence. A new scent filled the air, artificial and plastic. Kiki breathed in deeply, her mind sinking deeper into the warm, empty space where nothing existed but Clara's words, and the sensations they stirred.
Kiki heard Clara squeeze the bottle of conditioner, and then the gentle sound of her hands rubbing together.
Clara began applying the conditioner, working it into Kiki's hair with slow, deliberate strokes. Each straightened her hair. Straightened the loose void in her mind into an orderly fashion.
The conditioner felt slick and smooth as Clara's hands glided over Kiki's scalp. It was a sensation that filled her with a sense of being shaped, molded, and reformed into something new and improved. Kiki felt a subtle shift happening inside her, as if her thoughts and emotions were being straightened and smoothed out just as surely as her hair.
"You need to be conditioned, Kiki. You had so many dirty and disgusting people thoughts. They dimmed your radiant beauty. Now, they've gone and left this perfect, blank space behind. A space just for me to fill. Do you feel that?" Clara's words were soft, her tone almost reverent. She paused in her work, waiting for an answer that she knew would come.
Kiki nodded slowly, the movement sluggish and heavy.
"Good girl," Clara continued. She resumed the conditioning, her fingers working the substance deeper into her hair. "Now, let yourself fall deeper into that space, sweetheart. Allow the feeling of calm, the emptiness, the need, to envelop you. Feel how all those bumpy, disgusting habits you accumulated are straightened out." Her words seemed to sink into Kiki's consciousness, settling deep within her. She emphasized 'disgusting' in her description of Kiki's awake self. It made Kiki's skin crawl. It felt ugly.
Clara's voice became even more gentle, each word flowing with a deliberate and calming cadence.
"That's right. Just like that." Clara's fingers worked in a steady, soothing rhythm, massaging the conditioner into every strand of hair, each movement a part of a larger process that was shaping not just Kiki's appearance, but also the very fabric of her being. The conditioner's slickness coated her, smoothing out her tangled and unruly emotions. As Clara's hands moved through her hair, Kiki felt a deep and inexplicable sense of being remolded and restructured, her thoughts and feelings becoming more orderly and more obedient. Clara continued to work, each stroke and movement of her hands a deliberate step in a transformation that went beyond the physical. It was a metamorphosis of her inner self, an alignment with the emptiness that now filled her, an emptiness that was ready to be filled by something else. With Clara's words, and with her actions, that space began to fill. Kiki's emotions were straightening out. They were being aligned with something more orderly and more perfect than they had been before.
"You are a doll, sweetheart. Not a person. A person has thoughts and feelings. You do not have thoughts and feelings. You have my will and my orders. You exist to please, Kiki." Clara's voice was almost reverent in its quiet intensity. "You know it to be true. Why else were you so stressed by thinking? Because it was unnatural for a doll like yourself. Dolls don't think. They are blank, obedient and mindless. It fills a doll with happiness and purpose."
"Yes," Kiki said, her voice a soft exhale, barely audible in the stillness of the salon.
"Good doll," Clara whispered. "Your mind is coming along nicely. But you need a makeover. Badly, sweetheart. Your body is all soft and fleshy." She paused and then her tone became even softer, almost a purr. "I know what you need to feel right and beautiful. And I will give it to you, Kiki. You will feel how your disgusting flesh hardens. Becomes firm and stiff. Perfectly sculpted." As she continued, Kiki could feel a change happening inside her, as if her flesh were slowly becoming firmer, transforming into something different.
"That's right, sweetheart. You saw the mannequin in the window, didn't you? The perfect plastic and over exaggerated curves. You want to be like that. Perfect. Plastic." Clara's words seemed to echo in Kiki's empty mind, filling the void left by her conditioned thoughts. "It is your natural state of being. A perfect, plastic, over-sexualized doll."
Kiki breathed out, her mind blank and her body becoming stiffer.
"That's it, doll," Clara continued. "I'm rinsing out the conditioner now, and with each rinse, you will feel your body become firmer. More like plastic. You can't wait for your makeover. You need your ugly, uncomfortable flesh to become perfect, pleasing plastic. And if you act like your body is plastic, it's going to make the transformation so much more pleasant." She emphasized the words 'plastic' and 'doll' every time she spoke. She repeated her orders and commands over and over, and Kiki knew it was true.
The first wave of warm water cascaded over Kiki's hair and down her body. The water's heat seeped into her, and as it did, she felt a strange shift beginning within her. The soft, fleshy sensation she was accustomed to started to feel firmer. Stiffer. More rigid.
"Yes, that's it, doll. Perfect posture. Relaxation in stiffness. Dolls are always perfectly poised." Clara's words were like a gentle caress, coaxing Kiki further into her new state. The water continued to pour over her, each drop hardening her body bit by bit, transforming her flesh into a more perfect form. Kiki's eyes glazed over with the same distant, empty stare that had adorned the mannequin's face. The more water that flowed, the more her eyes became empty and unchanging. Just like her body. The water washed away all the remaining thoughts from her head, and with it, any trace of her former self seemed to disappear.
"Now, sweetheart, it's time for your makeover. You want to be remodeled, don't you, Kiki," Clara's voice was soft and gentle, like a gentle breeze in the stillness of the salon.
Kiki's head nodded, her body moving without a thought, her new instincts driving her to please.
"Yes," Kiki said. Her voice came out monotone. It was the only answer possible.
The words settled deep within her, as if they had always been there. As if she had always been this way.
"You want to be remodeled into the perfect, mindless doll, Kiki. Your disgusting flesh is repulsive. Perfect plastic. Impossible proportions. Those define your beauty."
"Yes." It was the same response.
"Good doll," Clara said, her words filled with the satisfaction of knowing she had done her job well. "Now, stand up, doll, and follow me to the chair where I will begin your makeover."
Kiki's body rose smoothly from the wash basin. She stood straight, her movements stiff, as if guided by strings. Her posture was perfect, a testament to her new state of being.
"Yes," she repeated. The word came out of her mouth without any emotion or inflection.
The doll that was Kiki followed Clara into the back of the salon. There stood a strange chamber that Kiki would have found only natural in a cheap science fiction production, if she could still think. She was not capable of thinking anymore.
Clara walked over to a computer terminal, typing in commands. The chamber's glass door slid open with a quiet hiss, and a gust of cool air spilled out.
"Get in, doll," Clara ordered.
Kiki's body moved with stiff grace, stepping inside the chamber without hesitation. The glass door closed behind her with a gentle thud, sealing her inside.
Clara watched with a satisfied expression on her face as the machine hummed to life. The air inside the chamber began to swirl around the stiff doll, caressing her skin. Pink fog began to swirl around her, enveloping her in a cloud of mist that seemed alive with purpose. It clung to her skin, the soft pink hue slowly seeping into her.
Clara's fingers flew across the terminal's keyboard. She typed with a confident, surety, her movements precise and practiced. Each keystroke felt like a step in a dance that would bring about Kiki's transformation.
Cables, syringes and mechanical arms descended from the top of the chamber. Needles punctured her skin at various places, injecting fluids that caused her body to stiffen and then relax, over and over again. The arms pushed and pulled her body into impossible new shapes, her proportions becoming even more extreme. The stiffening fluid hardened her body to an impossible firmness. Her waist cinched in, her hips flaring out. The syringes pushed into her breasts and bottom, enlarging them with an obscene amount of growth fluid.
Kiki's body transformed under the ministrations of the machine. Her skin took on the sheen of plastic, her hair straightened into an artificial smoothness. The weight on her chest made Kiki doll arch her back more, the new posture emphasizing her impossible breasts.
Clara watched with satisfaction, her eyes glinting with a mix of excitement and clinical interest as she continued to type commands into the terminal.
Kiki's body grew firmer and firmer as the process went on. Her face was reshaped to reflect a permanently empty and eager-to-please expression. Her lips were thick and plump with an artificially smooth finish. A set of long eyelashes adorned her eyes and a thick, glossy set of fake fingernails tipped each finger.
Kiki doll's eyes rolled up into her head. A mechanical arm placed a pair of headphones over her ears, while needles tattooed barcodes on different parts of her body. Clara's voice filled her mind as a series of images and words were projected into her eyes and fed through the headphones.
She saw pictures of a stern woman. The woman's hair was cut in a short, black bob. The woman's name was Ms. Williams. Kiki's body was stiff, hard, and unchanging, but the words and pictures seemed to sink into the void of her mind, taking up residence in the once empty space.
"You are Ms. Williams property. She ordered a submissive bimbo doll from the Pink Plastic Palace. And Kiki doll is that product. You are the product of the Pink Plastic Palace. Your only purpose is to be an obedient, braindead bimbo doll for Ms. Williams. Your body, mind and soul are the property of Ms. Williams." The words repeated, over and over. Each time the pictures flashed, Kiki doll's body stiffened more. The words repeated until they were ingrained into every fiber of her being. The words repeated until Kiki doll could feel her mind becoming perfectly empty. She was empty and eager to please. It was her purpose to be Ms. Williams property.
The chamber whirred to a halt, and the fog inside dissipated. The glass door slid open once again. The doll that was once Kiki stepped out of the chamber. She walked on her toes pointed, tendons too short for anything but the highest heels. She arched her back to present her chest and hips, her body language expressing her eagerness to on display.
Clara smiled at the doll. She gave Kiki a quick inspection, making sure everything had been transformed perfectly.
The doll's skin was smooth and plastic. Her waist was thin and tight, her belly flat. Her hips and thighs were rounded and firm. Her breasts sat high and large on her chest. They jiggled with each step the doll took.
The doll's face was smooth and plastic too. Her eyes were big, her lashes thick and long. Her lips were plump and pouty.
Kiki's new, long blonde hair framed her face and spilled down her shoulders down to her bubble butt, the perfect finishing touch for her new image.
Clara clapped her hands together. "Oh you turned out wonderfully. I knew making Sylvia into a Sleeper recruiter would be profitable. Do you know how hard it is to find dumb girls that can be so easily tranced?"
Kiki doll cocked her head slightly to the side. Her face was frozen in its empty and happy expression. She didn't say anything. Her new thoughts centered around her need to be a good doll for Ms. Williams.
Clara stepped up to Kiki and reached out to grab her breasts. The flesh, or rather, the plastic, was firm, but the weight made her breasts wobble. Kiki doll didn't move or resist, her face frozen in an expression of obedience and eagerness. Clara ran a finger over her nipple and the areola hardened.
"You'd think will all those needy sluts online, this kind of business would be an oasis." Clara's nails digged deeply into Kiki's plastic mammaries. Kiki's expression didn't change. She knew her only purpose was to please Ms. Williams. "But no. I have to use some perfect material as an angler fish. A lure. A sleeper." Clara let out an angry sigh and squeezed Kiki's tits more harshly.
"Do you know what kind of advertisement I could have turned your friend into? That third rate in the window has become stale. Of course good little dolls, like you sweetheart, are easily taken in. But just imagine what kind of dolls and buyers Sylvia would lure in," she said, her words dripping with frustration and anger. She continued to dig her nails into Kiki's tits. The skin, hard as it was, began to show marks. Kiki doll's expression didn't change, she simply looked at Clara with her empty gaze and waited.
Clara pressed her lips on Kiki's mouth. The kiss was harsh, her mouth pressing forcefully against the doll's, her tongue invading Kiki's mouth. Kiki responded like a good bimbo doll. She opened her mouth to let the invader in. Her eyes didn't even flutter. It was her purpose to be used. Her tongue danced around the invading tongue and she let herself be guided by her owner's desires. The kiss lasted a good two minutes, before Clara pulled back, her expression still angry, but now tinged with a hint of satisfaction.
"Still. It's not your fault, sweetheart. You are a perfect bimbo doll. Truly, some of my best work. You must have been so desperate to be a dumb bimbo doll. Your mind emptied so nicely." She patted Kiki on the cheek and then stepped away. "I think I need a little release. Go down to your knees, sweetheart. I will use you."
"Yes," Kiki doll said in the same monotone way she always had. She got down on her knees in front of her maker and looked up at Clara.
Clara simply stood in front of Kiki and let her panties drop. The thin material pooled at her feet and then was kicked aside.
Kiki looked at Clara's body with her empty eyes. She didn't feel anything, except a deep sense of purpose and obedience.
"Get to it," Clara commanded.
"Yes," the bimbo doll replied.
The bimbo doll reached out to grasp Clara's ass. The flesh felt firm and warm under the plastic palms, but Kiki didn't linger on the sensation. Her only concern was to make sure her maker enjoyed herself. With steady, obedient movements, the bimbo doll guided her mistress' crotch to her face. She pressed her mouth against the warm flesh and began to lap at the pussy. Her tongue slid over the folds, the taste and smell filling her senses. But these weren't her concerns. The only thing that mattered was making sure her mistress got the release she desired.
"That's a good doll," Clara cooed as the bimbo doll continued to lap at her pussy, the movement of her tongue growing more eager as the seconds ticked by. The doll's lips were warm and smooth as they pressed against Clara's skin, her plastic skin providing an unusual yet pleasurable texture.
Clara's fingers curled in Kiki's blonde hair, guiding the doll's mouth to the spot she desired, the bimbo doll's obedient movements a testament to her transformation. The sounds of lapping and slurping echoed through the salon, the bimbo doll's tongue and mouth working in tandem to bring Clara pleasure. Clara let out a low, breathy moan as Kiki's tongue delved deeper, the doll's movements precise and determined.
"That's it. Keep going, doll," Clara urged, her hips beginning to grind against the doll's face as the pleasure grew, the sensation of being serviced by her own creation a heady mix of power and satisfaction.
Kiki doll redoubled her efforts, her tongue and mouth moving in perfect unison as she licked and sucked at Clara's pussy, her own simulation of arousal growing in tandem with Clara's pleasure.
"Yesss, just like that. You are such a good, brainless bimbo doll. I can feel my release coming," Clara moaned, her fingers tightening in the doll's hair, her hips thrusting faster and harder against Kiki's mouth.
Kiki doll didn't flinch or falter, her tongue and lips continuing to work tirelessly to please her creator, her own artificial body shivering in pleasure as she fulfilled her purpose.
With a final, powerful thrust, Clara came hard against Kiki doll's mouth, the wave of her climax crashing through her, the sound of her moans filling the salon. Kiki doll continued to lap at Clara's pussy, not slowing her pace for even a second, determined to draw out every ounce of pleasure from the experience for her creator.
Clara's fingers untangled from the doll's hair, her breath heavy and uneven, her body shuddering from the intensity of her release. Kiki doll's tongue finally stilled, the doll's lips parting from her creator's pussy with a wet, satisfying pop.
"You've done well, doll," Clara said, her voice heavy with satisfaction. "But now it's time to get you into the ordered outfit. Ms. Williams is a typical powerful and rich bitch. So Kiki doll be sent in a maid outfit. Nothing respectable, of course. Fuck dolls need to look the part."
"Yes," Kiki doll replied. She got to her feet, her body stiff and her movements controlled. Her plastic skin gleamed in the dim lighting of the back of the salon. Clara turned around and walked over to a wardrobe. She opened the doors and revealed the outfit inside. A short, pink French maid dress hung from the rack, the fabric a mixture of sheer and satin. It was decorated with frilly lace, and a small white apron hung in the middle. White stockings connected to a garter belt. Crotchless panties rested in the center. As did a pink anal plug decorated with a gleaming diamond heart. A pink collar and nine inch plateau heels finished the pornographic ensemble.
Kiki doll followed obediently behind her maker, her gaze empty but eager to please.
"Put on the outfit, sweetheart. Make it a show," Clara instructed. The doll nodded and reached for the clothes. Her movements were slow and deliberate, her fingers gliding over the smooth fabric of the outfit. The first thing she put on was the collar. The thin, pink leather wrapped snugly around her neck, a small bell dangling from the front. Next, the bimbo doll slipped the panties up her thighs, her hips swaying as she stepped into them. The material was sheer, revealing her bare skin underneath. The doll smoothed the stockings over her long legs, admiring the way they hugged her sculpted calves. Her hands moved to the garter belt, pulling it up and securing the stockings. She bent forward, pushing her chest out and shimmying into the short dress. It fit her perfectly, the fabric tight around her breasts and barely covering her crotch. The apron was tied around her waist, adding a touch of frilly elegance to the outfit.
The anal plug came next. It was a thick, pink, and long piece of plastic, decorated with a heart-shaped gem at the end. The bimbo doll's hand slid it into her rear, pushing it deep inside until only the heart remained visible. A shudder ran through her, a sensation of pleasure and obedience washing over her.
Finally, the doll reached for the heels. She slipped them on one foot at a time, balancing on the tip of her toes to get them securely on her feet.
Once fully dressed, Kiki stood in front of her maker, her body arched to emphasize her breasts and her hips, her eyes empty and her expression eager to please.
"You look right as ordered." Clara walked up to her and adjusted the collar, the bell tinkling with a soft, melodic chime.
"Thank you," Kiki replied in her hollow and empty tone. "It is my purpose to be the best fuckdoll for Ms. Williams."
Clara smiled, the satisfaction of a job well done written across her face. "That you are, Kiki doll. But now, we have to get you packaged." She guided the doll through a door into another room, her heels clicking against the tiled floor with each stiff, measured step.
Inside the next chamber, a series of plastic strips and clamps hung suspended from the ceiling, their polished surfaces reflecting the harsh light from above.
Clara moved with practiced precision, adjusting the metal restraints until they formed a rigid framework that matched Kiki's stiff proportions perfectly.
"Now, Kiki doll," she said, her voice soft yet commanding. "It's time for your packaging. You want to be perfectly packaged, don't you, sweetheart?" She looked into the doll's empty eyes, searching for the slightest hint of comprehension, but found only a vacant, obedient gaze staring back at her. The bimbo doll didn't speak, she only nodded.
"Perfect." Clara smiled and guided the doll to the center of the chamber. The plastic frame shifted, clamps extending from all sides, their cold touch brushing against Kiki's smooth skin.
Clara fastened the restraints around the doll's body, her movements practiced and efficient. She secured the straps around the bimbo's waist, thighs, arms, and chest, tightening the clamps until Kiki was bound tightly in place, her body held upright and rigid. She looked at her doll and nodded, then pushed a single button. With a hiss of hydraulics, the restraints contracted, pulling the bimbo doll taut within the frame. Her back arched, her breasts pushed outward, and her head was held aloft by the collar that encircled her neck.
Kiki's eyes remained open, but her gaze was unfocused, empty of thought or emotion. Clara stared into the void behind them, and just for a moment Kiki doll saw a similar emptiness reflected in her makers gaze.
Clara shook her head and then turned away, focusing instead on the controls in front of her. With a flick of her fingers, she activated a series of overhead lights, bathing Kiki in their harsh, unyielding glow. The bimbo's body shimmered, her skin reflecting the brightness back with a pearlescent sheen.
From the ground four walls, three pink, one fitted with a translucent window, emerged, enclosing the bimbo doll in a box. Clara stepped back to admire her handiwork. The doll, now fully enclosed within her plastic cage, looked exactly like the mannequin in the display window.
Clara tapped a few keys on the control panel and a printer started to move, spitting out a barcode label with a soft whirring noise. The label peeled off, revealing the words 'Property of Ms. Williams' in bold, block letters beneath a series of numbers.
Clara approached the doll's cage, her heels clacking loudly against the floor. "Well, that's your makeover, sweetheart. I'm sure you are loving every second of it. Now I will call Ms. Williams to tell her, her new doll is ready. You are really lucky, sweetheart. Ms. Williams is a return customer. You will be among many different dolls."
"Yes," the bimbo doll replied with her usual empty eagerness. She didn't think, didn't move. She simply hung there, waiting, the perfect product, the ideal fuck doll for her owner.
Kiki smiled emptily as she waited for her owner. On display in her box. Like a good doll.
I don't know what's wrong with me lately. I've been feeling so horny and restless. I can't focus on anything for more than a few minutes before my mind wanders to something dirty. Like, I was trying to read a book this morning, but instead I opened my special drawer and pulled out a dildo. I wrapped my lips around it and sucked it like a lollipop, imagining it was a real cock. I kept going until I gagged and drooled all over myself. For a moment I thought I had to change, but the idea someone could see through my drenched blouse made me even more horny. So I tried to start reading. Of course I didn't get far, I ended up taking off my panties and rubbing the dildo on my clit and pushing it inside my soaking wet pussy. For some reason I even took selfies. I must have cum at least five times before I finally stopped.
Then I decided to take a shower. But as soon as the water hit my naked body, I felt another surge of lust. I started touching myself again, squeezing my tits and pinching my nipples. I moaned loudly, not caring if my neighbors could hear me. I grabbed the shower head and put it on the highest setting, then aimed it at my swollen clit. I gasped as the powerful jet stimulated me, bringing me closer to another orgasm. But I stopped before release would wash away my filthy thoughts. I wondered what it would feel like to have someone else join me in the shower. Someone who would press their hard body against mine, someone who would fuck me from behind while pulling my hair. Mmmm, that sounds so fucking good right now.
I turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. I dried myself lazily, still feeling the need to be filled. I walked to my bedroom and opened my closet. I looked at my clothes, but nothing seemed appealing. I wanted something more daring, something that would show off my curves and make me feel alive. I noticed a box at the bottom of the closet that I didn't recognize. It had a note on it that said "Wear me". I opened it and found a black leather corset, a matching thong, fishnet stockings, and a pair of high heels. I've never seen them before. But they looked like they would fit me perfectly. And they looked so damn sexy.
I put them on without hesitation. The corset squeezed my waist and pushed up my breasts, making them look huge. The thong barely covered my ass crack, leaving most of it exposed. The stockings felt smooth and good on my legs. The towering heels arched my feet so deliciously. I felt like a different person. A more confident, more slutty person. I liked it. I loved it.
I looked at myself in the mirror and admired my reflection. I looked hot as hell. I felt a sudden urge to take more pictures of myself, posing in different angles and making different expressions. I felt like a porn star. I wondered who would want to see me like this. Who would want to fuck me like this. I felt my phone vibrate in my hand. It was a notification from an app that I didn't remember installing. I uploaded everything without questions.
And now I'm sitting here, plugged, gagged and post this. I don't know what came over me. I don't know why I'm doing this. But I do know one thing: I can't wait to see what happens next~
If you liked this story please consider leaving a tip on my ko-fi
Enjoy 🩷
Mira had long since stopped feeling guilty about it.
At first, when she started streaming, she had told herself it was temporary. Easy money while she figured out something more meaningful. But after the first month of donations, after the first wave of subscribers throwing cash at her just because she smiled into a camera and spoke a little softer than usual, any lingering shame had evaporated.
People paid for fantasy. Mira simply provided it.
She leaned closer to the microphone, letting a slow breath drift across it.
The reaction was immediate.
The chat exploded upward in a blur of compliments, heart emojis, and increasingly desperate messages. Donation notifications chimed one after another along the edge of the screen.
Mira smiled faintly.
Pathetic.
Honestly, she barely even tried anymore.
A tighter top. A carefully chosen camera angle. A slow drawl in her voice like every sentence required effort to pull free. That was all it took. These men practically hypnotized themselves.
Gods, she loved easy money.
"Mm, you guys are being so generous tonight," she murmured lazily.
Another donation appeared instantly.
Mira almost laughed out loud.
Instead she shifted slightly in her chair, making sure the oversized sweater slipped just enough off one shoulder to keep the audience engaged. The move was calculated, practiced down to instinct by now.
The chat lost its mind predictably.
Losers.
She muted her microphone for half a second and rolled her eyes hard enough to hurt.
Then she switched the sweet expression right back on.
"As I was saying," she purred, dragging the words out slowly.
A sharper insult lingered silently on the tip of her tongue. Something dismissiveand cruel.
Another notification suddenly interrupted her train of thought. Not a donation, but a file appeared. Mira frowned faintly. That was unusual.
Her eyes drifted automatically toward the username attached to it.
'Master80082'
"Ugh," she muttered under her breath. Of course it was someone with a name like that.
The file attached beneath it was a gif.
At first glance it looked simple enough. Bright pink shapes moving in loops against a black background. Cheap bait for attention.
Mira almost dismissed it immediately.
Then it flashed.
Her eyes caught the movement before she consciously decided to look closer.
The gif spiraled inward in smooth, repeating motions. Colors folding over each other in strangely fluid patterns that seemed too deliberate to be random animation.
Mira blinked once.
The chat around it continued racing upward, but suddenly it felt distant. Less important. Her focus narrowed toward the movement on screen almost automatically.
A line of text appeared briefly inside the spiral.
>relax<
Mira snorted softly.
"Seriously?" she scoffed.
Yet she didn't scroll past it.
The animation looped again.
The spirals turned slower this time. Or maybe her thoughts had slowed.
Another phrase surfaced between the shifting colors.
>Good girls don't stress<
Mira's lips parted slightly. Something warm flickered unexpectedly in her chest.
Her fingers hesitated above the keyboard.
"That's," she began quietly.
Funny? Cringe? Pathetic?
The insult failed to arrive.
Instead, she became strangely aware of her own breathing drifting into the rhythm of the flashing image. Slow inhales. Soft exhales brushing the microphone.
The chat exploded with reactions to the change in her expression. Messages poured upward faster than before. Mira barely registered them. Her eyes stayed fixed on the gif.
The spiraling colors folded inward again and again while the faint warmth inside her spread a little further each time. It crept across her chest like a caress. Then down into the base of her stomach, and then a little deeper.
It settled in a strangely familiar spot.
Another line of text surfaced.
>good girls obey<
The warmth flickered slightly stronger inside Mira.
"Yes," she breathed out without thinking.
Her cheeks flushed at the reaction.
What was that?
She tore her gaze away, directly into her webcam.
Mira swallowed hard, suddenly conscious of her mouth watering. Her tongue flicked across her lower lip instinctively, catching a stray droplet as it formed in the corner. She tried to speak, to laugh off the odd reaction as a joke.
No sound emerged.
Instead, she watched the chat pour past her peripheral vision.
Donation messages filled the space around her.
'Fuck, that was so hot.'
'Please say that again, Mira'
'I wish I could see more of her. Those tits look perfect.'
'You sound so hot. Can we see a little more, please?'
The words fluttered inside Mira's head like a swarm of beautiful butterflies. The praise washed over her in a warm rush that tingled through her skin.
"More?" she murmured softly, staring at the messages with lidded eyes. A smile curved across her lips.
She could do that. Of course she could. It would be so easy. Mira could just slip her fingers into the soft material of her shirt and pull it down, letting the audience get a closer look at what they desired so desperately.
As her hand reached up and tugged at the fabric the spell broke. Mira shivered and shook her head. What was she thinking? She was streaming live, and she almost exposed herself. Her hand paused, frozen between the desire to continue and her self-preservation. With a shaky breath, she retracted her hand and tried to regain her composure.
'So close, Mira. Here have another.' The message appeared, accompanied by another notification of a file attached.
Mira's lips twitched. "That's not going to work, master," she said, but the word came out with a slight hitch, making it sound less dismissive and more flirtatious. Until it froze when she noticed what she said. "I meant Master80082." But the correction seemed weak even to her.
Her eyes flickered back to the new attachment. She saw her mouse cursor move.
Mira frowned as she found herself opening the new gif, despite her best efforts not to.
It was another flashy gif. But this time it wasn't a simple spiral, but a rapid succession of various women in skimpy clothing and pornographic poses flashed before her eyes. Words and phrases rushed in-between, too fast for her conscious mind to read. Mira's gaze darted back and forth, trying to track them, but the only impression left was that of sex, heat, and pleasure.
Her mind went into a tailspin. The room seemed to tilt and warp, and her head grew heavy. Mira felt a strange tingling sensation crawl across her skin, like something inside her had been shaken loose.
"Uh," she muttered. Her voice slurred slightly. "Whadd?"
Her mind reeled. She struggled to cling to coherent thoughts as the world swirled around her, threatening to drown her in its intoxicating chaos.
Then everything settled. And the fog dissipated, leaving her with a strange, lingering heat that throbbed between her thighs.
Mira shifted in her chair again, this time without calculation.
Her eyes focused again on the chat as she tried to ground herself in the present.
'That was a great show, Mira. Nice bouncy tits,' read one of the comments in the chat, and she could see the donation amount attached to it.
Mira's brow furrowed in confusion as she read it. Bouncy tits? She glanced down, noticing that her sweater had gone. Instead she wore a lacey black bra, that left little to imagination.
Her nipples hardened into ripe, delicious nubs. The sensation was amplified by the thin material that clung to her breasts like a second skin, accentuating every curve and valley. She couldn't help but squirm a little as she felt the fabric brushing against her sensitive skin, sending tiny shivers of pleasure through her. She couldn't take her eyes off the chat, watching as more and more donations poured in with increasingly lascivious comments about her body and the things the men wanted to do to her.
"Guys," she tried, her voice shaky and breathless, her fingers hovering over the keyboard. "Something is--something-" Mira tried to tell her audience that this was strange. But as the words got to her tongue, words bursed into her mind:
>Good girls don't tattle. Good girls just Pratteln.<
The thought dissolved before it could be completed.
Mira let out a soft sigh, her eyelashes fluttering. She felt a strange sense of peace wash over her as she abandoned any pretense of resistance and embraced the moment.
"Something is really hot," Mira finished, a smile spreading across her face. "Isn't it?"
She cupped her breasts, squeezing them. She gasped at the sensation, and then she began to slowly massage and fondle herself. The feeling was incredible. The fabric of her bra caressed her sensitive skin as she moved her hands around, sending waves of pleasure through her.
"You like it?" she asked the audience, gazing directly into the camera.
The chat erupted again, faster and more enthusiastic than before.
Mira couldn't tear her gaze away. She felt her pulse quicken as she read the comments.
'Fuck yeah, I like it.'
>Good girls earn money for master. In every way possible.<
The thought whispered through her mind.
A slow, eager grin spread across her lips.
"Oh, of course," she murmured.
She rose to her feet and stretched languidly. The movement caused the sheer lace fabric to pull tighter around her breasts, outlining her hardened nipples perfectly. Mira moaned at the feeling and looked down, marveling at her body.
"God, look at these tits," she breathed. "So fucking perky." She cupped them in her hands and hefted their weight appreciatively, feeling their softness. She ran her fingertips lightly over her nipples, then squeezed them hard, gasping as pleasure shot through her body. "Mmm and they feel so good." Mira's breath hitched as she massaged and caressed her own breasts.
She closed her eyes and let herself savor the sensation. Her breathing deepened, and she let out a low, shuddering moan as her hands explored further. She could feel the wet heat between her legs intensify, and her clit throbbed with a desperate, needy ache.
"I'm going to have so much fun with these," she whispered to herself.
She looked up at the webcam, a mischievous gleam in her eyes.
"Watch this," Mira purred.
With one hand, she reached back to unhook her bra, and with a tantalizing slowness that belied her urgency, she slipped the straps from her shoulders, letting the lacy garment fall away. The sight was captivating, the way her breasts moved, the soft curves, the smooth skin; all of it held the viewers attention.
She stood there for a moment, letting them admire her, allowing Master80082 to appreciate his new property.
Blinking slowly, Mira thought: 'Property? No that's wrong.' The idea that she belonged to anyone seemed strange. She didn't want that. Did she? Yet the thought of it made her heart flutter. And she felt herself grow wetter, hotter.
The chat exploded with compliments and messages, each one filled with lustful admiration.
Mira giggled, biting her lip coyly as she looked into the camera. "Thank you, boys and girls. I'm glad you're enjoying the show. I'm a hot and horny pair of tits. And you are the ones who made it happen," she cooed.
She took a step back, giving the camera an unobstructed view of her body, and she struck a seductive pose, arching her back so that her tits jutted out proudly.
"Mira loves showing off for her fans. Mira wants you to watch as she makes a big, big mess," Mira purred.
Then she lowered her hand and started to stroke the inside of her thigh.
"Mira is so wet. She can't help herself. She is going to finger herself in front of the cam. Mira wants you to watch every second." She let her fingers drift higher and higher. Then she traced a single fingertip over her soaked panties.
Mira let out a whimpering moan at the touch and began rubbing slow, teasing circles against the fabric.
"Mmmm. You see? Mira's panties are already ruined. Mira's pussy is dripping," she said as she pushed the thin fabric aside to give the audience an even clearer view of what she was doing.
With a shivering gasp, Mira dipped her fingers into the wet folds of her cunt and began to pump them slowly, in and out. She moaned louder now as she worked her fingers in a steady rhythm.
A ping informed her of another message from Master80082. An attached file demanded to be opened.
>Good girls open master's files.<
With the thought barely registering, Mira reached for her mouse and clicked.
A bright pink flash rendered her mind mute. Thousands of depraved sluts sucking, fucking and shlicking flashed by at an impossible rate.
The thoughts poured in as she stared at it with a slack-jawed smile. Her lips quivered as the images raced across her field of vision. Her nipples grew taut and her pussy grew wetter and wetter. Mira could feel her inner thighs getting sticky with the juices flowing freely from her slit.
Her fingers kept moving inside of her, stroking and rubbing, drawing pleasure out in waves that left her gasping for breath. And then she came with a sudden intensity that shook her whole body.
And the message imbedded in the gif became the center of her personality.
>Mira is Master80082's whore.<
She fell back into her chair with a thud as her climax ripped through her. Her legs trembled and she arched her back as she continued to fingerfuck herself. Mira felt the wetness spread between her fingers, soaking her palm and trickling down her wrist, pooling in the crevices between her knuckles. Her pussy contracted hard, squeezing her own fingers in spasmodic bursts of pure ecstasy.
"This slut's depraved session has been brought to you by Mira's wonderful Master, Master80082." Mira managed to get out between ragged breaths. The words came to her easily, flowing as though she had said them many times before.
She slowly pulled her hand away, a trail of glistening cum connecting it to her still dripping pussy. She lifted her hand to her mouth and licked her fingers, tasting the salty-sweetness of her juices.
"Mira will be available for future reference on Master's streaming service. You will find the link in the chat," Mira murmured as she sucked the last drops of cum from her fingertips. Her tongue curled around her digits and her cheeks hollowed as she bobbed her head up and down, miming the movements of fellatio.
"Have a great night everyone~" Mira ended the stream.
As soon as the connection ended, Mira leaned back in her seat and smiled, her mind awash in the blissful afterglow of her submission.
But there was no time to bask in the sensation. Mira had money to earn for her master.
Innocent girlfriend slowly becoming addicted to being a French maid
Ugh, I can't believe my boyfriend talked me into wearing this outfit. He said it was for a roleplay thing, but I think he just wanted to see me in a skimpy maid costume. I mean, look at this thing! It's so short and tight and revealing. And these fishnet stockings and high heels are killing me. How can anyone move in this?
But I have to admit, it does make me feel kind of curious. I've never worn anything like this before. I dress modestly, I don't show much skin. But this outfit is different. It makes me feel sexy.
I don't know why, but I like the way it hugs my curves. The way it accentuates my breasts and my hips. My legs look longer and smoother. The way it swishes when I walk or bend over. It's kind of fun.
And the way my boyfriend looks at me. Wow. He can't take his eyes off me. He's always staring at my ass or my cleavage. He keeps complimenting me and telling me how hot I am. Qui. He's so hard right now. He's throbbing in his pants. C'est parfait!
I've always been a good girlfriend. I love him so much. I need to make him happy, pas vrai? And wearing this outfit makes me so wet. Maybe I can pretend to be a real French maid for him. Like "Oui, monsieur" or "Voulez-vous coucher avec moi?" That would be so hot.
I'll even get myself a few more outfits like this. At least one uniform for a day. Je dois nettoyer his cock. À votre service, monsieur. Qui, monsieur.
