A Bimbo's (lack of) thoughts

From Bunny to Bimbo

Jeannie had been working out at the gym since high school, she was tone, fit, and was proud of it. On top of that she was getting top grades at her local college. The thing was she wasn’t really satisfied. It was weird, to say the least. I mean everyone always told her how they admired her athletic body and asked for her secrets and marveled at how she managed to have time for school work. Well, the truth was that even though she had those things she only was able to do them because that was all she did. Sure, school was important, and her exercise, well, it was basically a habit at this point. No thrill to it, just long monotonous hours where she exhausted herself to the point where she was able to fall asleep.

One week though she noticed something new at the gym. It was a new machine and alongside it was a woman who was apparently demonstrating how it worked. She was different from the usual crowd, not in her being fit, but in how she acted and dressed. It was obvious she was a bit of a slut. She walked around in the tightest and most revealing outfits she’d ever seen and flirted with every guy there. When the woman actually bothered to workout it was always that new Machine. It was one of those thigh exercise machines, but it was from a new company, whci h specifically marketed to women. It had a bright pink seat and was obviously aimed towards the girly cheerleader types. Jeannie, always being pretty feminist, found the whole contraption pretty insulting. However, she kept seeing the new girl and kept noticing all the attention she got. She was envious of the stares, the sidelong looks. Jeannie wanted that. She had gotten the occasional observer from time to time, but  nothing like this new woman got.

A giggle trickled through the gym as the woman flirted with a pair of guys working on their bicep curls.

I bet she never goes home alone. She thought. And she knew she was right because that day she saw the woman leaving and was astonished to see she had not one, but three guys leaving with her.

Jeannie decided then and there that the machine might be worth a try.

The next day she walked over to inspect the machine. Like most machines nowadays it had a diagram of a silhouette going through the motions and a description of how to do the exercise properly. The description read:

B.I.M.B.O.

Better, Inner, Movement, and Better, Orgasms

This machine focuses on the inner thighs. Adjust seat so that your knees are even with the top of the legs of the machine. Draw in knees, hold for three seconds, then slowly open legs while breathing out.  While using machine, maintain a steady rhythm and breath evenly. One rep and you will immediately feel different. Garunteed!

Jeannie was put off a bit by the name, but shrugged it off as some kind of gimmick. I mean, a machine that increased orgasms? Yea right. She settled herself into the machine, adjusted the seat and began to work out.

It wasn’t exactly easy, but it felt good that was for sure. As her legs moved in, then out, she felt a slow building of something in her body. She was unsure what it was because it was so foreign in comparison to how she normally felt during a workout, but she quickly realized she was getting turned on. She grimaced a bit, feeling alittle embarrassed. She glanced around quickly to see if anyone was staring at her. It was pretty late and most of the regulars had gone home. She continued working out, not really focused on her workout. The more she used the machine the more the pleasure mounted. She felt her pussy start to moisten as she breathed out on her 20th movement. She moaned reflexively as a shot of pleasure shot through her. She opened her legs slowly, letting out her breath in another moan. As she did she noticed something else. As she breathed out, another sensation caught her attention. It was subtle and hard to detect. She drew her legs in again and almost came. She gasped as her legs trembled with the exertion. She opened her legs again and felt it this time for sure. Her mind was feeling duller. Her thoughts slower.  She ignored it as just a side effect of the pleasure and exercise.

“Twenty-three” she breathed out in a hiss as her pussy literally started to soak her shorts. She had had her eyes closed in pleasure and concentration since the 15th movement, but now she opened them and looked down. She gasped. Her tits were huge! Her legs stuttered at her shock, but the abrupt stop to the pleasure was too much and she continued drawing her legs in for another rep. She watched in amazement as her breasts grew subtly, her nipples were piercing her over strained top. Cleavage easily four inches deep glistening as her sweat glinted from the florescent lights. She giggled as she thought of how the boys would look at her. In fact… she looked up and noticed that exact thing happening. Almost every single pair of eyes was on her. She didn’t care, in fact she relished it.

She smiled and licked her lips as her thighs drew in once more. Her breath hitched as another long wave of pleasure rolled over her. she moaned once more and then felt another change. She looked past her boobs and noticed her thighs. They were much thicker, not plump, but gorgeous, soft, yet firm. She drew her legs in one last time and as she let them open she orgasmed and let out a small scream as she involuntarily let her legs fall completely open, her soaked gym shorts on full display. She sat there trembling as the most intense feeling of pleasure she had ever felt washed through her.

After a moment she got up, ignoring the stares, and shakily walked to the side mirror. She kept her eyes down, amazed at her new jiggling assets. They were easily Ds maybe DDs. She felt her walk sway and her hands fell to her waist and she paused as she felt the new curves.

At last she reached the free weights. Grasping a pair of 30 weights for support, she looked up and couldn’t believe what she saw. Before she had been thin, shapeless, messy brown hair, and a forgettable face, now she could only gazed, astonished as she noticed all the changes. Her hair now a dirty blond fell down to her waist resting on a now extremely round bubble butt that just screamed fuck me. Her once petite mouth had plumped up and parted of their own accord. Her tits she already knew were bigger, but to see them in the mirror gave her a whole new appreciation for them. They strained at her black top which now looked minuscule on her while her once conservative shorts now looked like a thong, showing nearly all of her ass. Her eyes looked back at her with lust and…and something else, dullness? She then noticed for the first time how she was standing. She was leaning forward onto her tiptoes so that she displayed her body in the most provocative position possible. She couldn’t seem to stop standing like that either. She looked behind her, her long hair swinging forward and stared at her ass. It really was huge, but amazing. While she looked back she also noticed two guys, who had approached silently behind her. She turned around and giggled.

“Like, hi there boys.” She said smiling brightly. Wait, why had she said it like that? She wondered. The objection was forgotten however, as her eyes drifted down and locked onto their crotches. Two noticeable bulges had her transfixed. She felt her mouth water and thoughts of getting on her knees and sucking them off filled her mind. A glimmer of her old self said her new thoughts were wrong and that she shouldn’t, but a tingle of pleasure from her new body overrode her inhibitions. She licked her lips provocatively.

“You, umm, like what you see?”

They nodded and grinned wider. “How about we take you back to our place?

She used to be a proud cop, an upholder of order in the streets. But she never could seem to gain the respect of her male peers; no matter how hard she tried. Eventually she was called into her captain’s office so they could discuss a potential promotion. She was very excited and had been working hard for the past 6 years.

When she got into her captain’s office she was surprised to find it stuffed with other male officers. She was confused, but at first her foolish feminine brain thought they were all there to congratulate her on a promotion to sergeant. Those hopes were dashed as soon as one of the burly men grabbed her arm and yanked her in.

They were merciless, and ravished her for the entire day, taking turns in between shifts and calls. She tried to escape multiple times but there was no hope. She had been given the job in a token affirmative action role, and was not strong enough to actually fight off fully grown men. They slapped her tits and face, pounded her asshole and made her suck cocks until her jaw was nearly dislocated.

Using their connections her entire police department got together to fake her death, tell others that she had died doing her duty as an officer. In reality she was kept in a makeshift dungeon and raped endlessly for the next year. When she finally was allowed to leave the dungeon she had been completely changed. Years of living in a basement with no windows and a never ending supply of brutal sex had turned into a cock-hungry whore. She now rode along with the police in their cars giving them head.

Waitress public hypno demonstration

She smiles for the camera and then tries to beat his tests.  But, she loses at the stiff arm.

Then, the hypnotist moves in for a hard deepener with a surprise FOREHEAD SLAP.

Look at those first few pictures. She doesn’t buy any of this. It’s all for a laugh. You can even see her starting to concentrate as it goes along, keeping her mind sharp, resisting all of his tricks.

A new tumblr game:

Post this to your blog if you want to play.  Your followers will send asks with a question plus a cliche personality type in asterisks.  *Seductress* *Bimbo* *Virgin* *Cocktease* *Submissive* *Learned Scholar* etc.  

Whatever they tell you, you will become while you answer their question, and for the next 15 minutes— or until you’re given a new personality.  Whichever comes first.  

Click baits had become an ignored constant in Melissa’s life. Facebook would bombard her with increadibly vague titles to catch her interest and she would just manage to not click on them, and only because something else caught her eye. But when she did, she woud curse and sigh. No content, just vagueness and, simply put, a waste of time. And still she would click on them with the hope of, perhaps, finding some interesting content. Not all of them must be bad - it is mathematically impossible. Over time she learned to ignore them and siff the bad from the worst.  And so the baits would appear, silent, in the background, whispering for her attention but never quite catching it.

One night she found one that sparked her curiosity. It was titled “Become a Good Schoolgirl with these Easy Steps”. She became angry and curious all at once. What in the hell was this thing? Why such a title? Could it be possible the use of the word is a metaphor? Of course not. It is a click-bait news article! But… something about it sparked her curiosity. So she clicked.

“Did you know that all you need for success is discipline?” It began.

“Well, duh,” Melissa said. What an original piece of information, right!? However true, the article was still stealing from others. “However…” She whispered, looking over the mess in her room. So she kept reading.

The article made some odd sort-of sense. It explained that the use of the term schoolgirl was a sort of “take back” for the term. The writer wanted to take it away from sexualization and the disempowering use it was given by many. Why should a schoolgirl be taught of as porn candy or just a silly girl who didn’t know anything? No. The writer had some very strong opinions about the term and they showed. However, the language was engaging. Again, Melissa couldn’t tell why, but something kept her reading.

“We all want to get things done. To go places. To have the money. To be free from laziness. Really, do you like being in your pajamas all weekend doing nothing? What about planning a trip? Why don’t just get up and do things? Well, I can tell you that becoming a schoolgirl - a person who’s shed the idea of laziness, disciplined in all manners of life, and trained in key lifestyle skills - not only will you be happier, but you will get things done.” - was perhaps the least inspiring of the paragraphs in the article. And yet…

CLICK HERE TO BEGIN YOUR TRAINING.

It read under it. Obvious clickbaiting. “Come to this other place, give me add revenue!” It screamed. But Melissa was intrigued. Schoolgirl… that term gave her images of short skirts and blowjobs. Hot, but not what she wanted. However, to see it as someone who was disciplined, got her “homework done” and lived a more productive and happy life because of it? It was tempting. So she clicked. The screen went white and then loaded.

“First things first. The mindset. I’ve explained what it is to be a Schoolgirl. But hte first step is yours. How do you get into the mindset of a Schoolgirl. Well, by looking like one. Find a uniform. Something that helps you become this ideal you!”

“Find a uniform…” Melissa whispered. Why did it want her to wear a uniform? A schoolgirl uniform? No. It wanted her to find something to help her get into that desired mindset. Training. Yes! This makes sense. To start training she must be in the right mindset. But a… uniform? Melissa blinked and looked at the screen. Time passed. She got up and went out.

When Melissa sat in front of the article once more she felt more in tune with the song it was singing. She felt… well… like a schoolgirl. She was wearing something that helped her get into the mindset. A uniform. Her uniform. It made her smile. It made her feel so good.

“Your uniform will help you become a Schoolgirl. Will help you be happy and productive. It is the first step ingetting into the mindset. You must always wear your uniform to be this good. Feel this good. I tell you, as soon as you allow yourself to get into the right mindset, everything else will be easier.” She read again. It was the third time she had read the article up to this point. Fourth time this week since first discovering it. She was in her uniform. Always was wearing her uniform. “The article is right.” She told herself with a smile. “It is so easy.”

CLICK HERE TO BECOME DISCIPLINED.

Finally she could move on to the next step in becoming a Schoolgirl and, thus, a better person. She clicked. She read. She grew warm. She smiled. Fingers fidgeted.

“Now that I have learned to be in the mindset of a Schoolgirl, I can learn true discipline,” Melissa droned. “True education,” Melissa shuddered. “can only be done when one is in the right frame of mind. I have reached this point by becoming a Schoolgirl. I am no longer who I was. I am a Schoolgirl. I can now learn true discipline. I am allowing these changes to better myself. I enjoy these changes and want more, for I want to be a Schoolgirl. This Schoolgirl will follow the rules and become disciplined…” She trailed off. Nearly an hour later she got up, skirt swishing, heels clacking. Her room and house were clean, spotless. There was no work to be done, for all of it had been done. Procrastination had been expurged. She was free to become a better person. She was smiling.

Hours later she was adding to her uniform. True discipline began by imposing limits. Her spine was straight. Her speech gone. She would endure sessions of bodily discipline. Train her mind through her body. Longer and longer until she could last through the pain, through the discomfort and reach true discipline.

Months later she reached a new link. She didn’t hesitate. She needed to follow the rules. She was a Schoolgirl and must always try to become better. She needed to Obey.

CLICK HERE TO OBEY.

“I am a Schoolgirl. I obey the rules I impose on myself. I obey the uniform and everything it represents,” She read from the article. Her jaw was sore and her mouth dry, but she could power through the discomfort. Her ballgag was an inch from her hand. Her back straight. “My life is richer, happier, more productive because of the obedience to my rules. Being disciplined has freed me from the bondage of laziness. I’ve become a Schoolgirl. I obey myself. I obey the ideas I’ve embraced.” She stopped just as the article stopped, suddenly. She looked away from the screen and looked around for a moment, brow furrowed. “I HAVE become a better me! She said in a very different tone. “This… this article actually worked!” She said, suddenly jumping to her feet. “Waoh! I… I obey.” She said matter-of-factly. It felt good. “I obey because I am disciplined, because I am a schoolgirl. And this… this is good. I feel better than ever and… I have to share it.” She droned the last bit, her voice turning back to the voice of the article.

Melissa sat down again and read the final line.

CLICK HERE TO SHARE.

it is even better if you put it on loop

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