still in the shell, bad at opening up

maybe it’s her turn to wear them tonight. i put them on her, lay her out on our bed, and watch happily as she listens.

watching her enter that blissful trance state we both love so much. watching her body respond automatically as the triggers flood her brain. giggling whenever i see her body freeze or go limp or spasm with pleasure. teasing her body gently, slowly, like she always loves to do with mine. laughing at her whenever she lets out those precious little uncontrollable moans. so deep in trance that she’s not even aware of how cute she looks.

then using all those triggers on her when she’s done listening to the files. dropping her dumber and deeper like the good girl she is. good girls make good girls, don’t they? keeping her in her trance long after the files end. popping her mind over, and over, and over again with just the snap of my fingers and a silly little word.

and all the while, knowing deep down that tomorrow night it’ll be my turn to turn my brain off. my turn to melt into a puddle of mindless moans and giggles. knowing that every little thing i do to her, every touch and trigger and pop and drop, she’ll do to me next.

i need to go to smeep but how do i even turn it off

i know i wont sleep with it like this

not like its not gonna repeat forever i cant even cont how many times ive listened to it

it feels ao good to be a dumdum

it feels so good to loop and get lost

cant even esge anymore just gooned and rubbed for like allost 15 mins noj stip

out on more numbing xream cant have it wear off in my sleep

need to he plastic latex slave doll forever

Don't think of it as your girlfriend being corrupted into a gorgeous beembo drone.

Think of it as her becoming flirtier.

More affectionate.

More delicious as you lick the honey off her bare skin.

She's still herself.

She's just bustier.

Sweeter.

And has lots of wonderful, blonde sisters who can't get enough of cuties who stumble into the hive, so drunk on beembo honey they can't resist.

Can't escape.

Can only sink under their kisses.

Sink into their breasts.

Sink into the honeypot until their minds are gooey, golden, and melty.

So happy and moaning as beembos kiss them.

Stroke them.

Sink them deeper.

Deeper.

Hello Bimbo! It’s wonderful to see you return for another 3-month course! I think you are going to be very happy with the training we have for you! The good news is that we can finally help you specialize the kind of dumb slut you will become!

Your first training is a classic, The Princess Treatment! We set you up to role play as a cute, dumb, slutty princess who orders are often ignored and your loyal knights are ALWAYS finding new ways to shut that hole of yours. Often times most of your holes, all in the name of keeping your as safe as you can be, princess.

Another option is The Goth Ditz in Disguise! It’s not as common, but it’s increasingly becoming more common this century! The dark clothes, fishnets, and black lipstick are some of the staples of the whores in this field. You’ll often find yourself drugged, and being passed around by many, many people at a concert venue. Be prepared to wake up in stranger’s bed, and to then be passed around again.

The last option available for you is the classic E-Girl Bimbo! This training is all about the traditions- tight clothes, lots of skin, and a whole lot of pink. Bringing this training into the 21st century has been a priority for us. We help you set up to film, post, and write about how much of a good bimbo toy you are online! They are sluts for attention from adoring fans online. This training has a bigger connection with edging and hypnosis, but those especially interested in those can add them onto the other courses for a very small fee.

Like, awwwwwww, you're not gonna listen? Okay cutie, tits out. You don't have to do as you're told? Is that why your hand is teasing over your underwear, darling? Insults aren't going to work either, how about you replace those with an "I obey, Miss." On your knees. Come on dear. You're so strong willed, right? Why are you letting my voice pull you like a marionette? Can't you fight back, darling? Awwww, you can? So if I were to say you couldn't, you'd still be able to, right? Here, I'll give you a chance to show me how strong willed you are, cutie. All you have to do is resist.

You can't fight back, can you dear?

You can't remember what you used to be like, can you bimbo? Do you remember the package? The envelope? Surly you remember the glitter bomb right? Oh, you poor bimbo, do you want me to tell you the story again? How you became such a good girl? 

You were a sweet young thing. Had a good job, well paying. But you were alone. You didn't have many close friends and family. When you got that beautiful pink letter in the mail, you couldn't believe anyone would send you a letter! If only you looked a bit closer, maybe you would have realized that lipstick kiss on the envelope was an odd thing. 

When you opened the letter, the glitter explosion covered your neat little kitchen. It covered your face, and clothes, and of course, you. The surprise of it made you inhale so much of it, so much of it cascading down into your mouth, lungs, and core.

Despite your best efforts, it did not come out well. Your face and hair remained thoroughly contaminated despite many minutes in a hot shower. Your kitchen had no chance. A problem for later, as it was already late and you had work early in the morning. All that for a blank letter.

But, when you awoke you like, felt so good, feeling more refreshed than you had been in ages. The glitter had, absorbed? Disappeared? Overnight and was so far from your mind. When getting ready, the mirror caught your eye. You looked...really good. You started off your morning with a cute little selfie. It was odd, you never took pictures of yourself. Your confidence was soaring you just had to post it to your little Instagram page. 

At work, compliments were coming in. Everyone thought your hair looked so nice, your skin so fresh. The comments online also gushed about how nice you looked, so many strangers coming to compliment how you looked. So many beautiful women hearting your post.

God it had to feel good, right bimbo? Being called adorable? Cute? 

The next morning, your hair had lightened quite a bit, a blonde tone taking shape. Your breasts feeling a bit more bouncy, your lips, taking on a cute, round shape. Another selfie, and everyone gushed about how cute you are, and how lovely your hair color is. The love for your body made you vibrate. Work was similar, so many nice compliments, even if your actual job felt hard to complete. The numbers on the spreadsheet felt like bubbles. Just popping away. 

Weeks pass. Each day more selfies, more love, and more bimbo coming to the forefront. Your job began to tank as you stopped coming to work. It was more important to... cultivate your online presence, so that more people can appreciate how beautiful you are. 

When you receive the black envelope in the mail, like, words were so hard to understand. All of your notes came from online, not in person. After trying to piece out what the letter said, some part of you screamed with horror.

THE GLITTER POISONED YOU. THE MORE YOU POST, THE MORE THEY CHANGE YOU. STOP POSTING AND YOU'LL RETURN TO NORMAL. 

You realized what happened to you, so late. Part of you writhed against this new you. With your cute blonde hair, perky breasts, full lips, and like, short attention span. You managed to get a single moment of lucidity, of what you’ve been doing, of what you were becoming.

You go to delete the apps. Delete the photos. Delete everything. Then…a notifications came in, and you remembered how good it is to be admired. To be praised, to be idolized.

The message to protect you is now your instruction manual. You post so much more now, don’t you bimbo? Keep it up, pink is such a good color on you. With a beautiful body like yours, doesn’t it make sense to share it? To give and receive pleasure from, all who want it, bimbo?