#bee-stung lips

The morning after a through fucking it is quite common for your bimbo to feel a certain amount of disorientation. Enjoy, but try to resist the impulse to go back for seconds thirds, as this will only prolong the disorientation.

For those of you who may be saying to yourself “But I want my bimbo ditzy and disoriented!” Just try to remind yourself that she is a bimbo after all and is most likely pretty ditzy anyway.

mannequinfetish:

…as a babies bottom. *NB

Flawless doll-face perfection.

bimboisbetter:

-I’m going to mindfuck you.

That was all the first text said. She ignored it. She didn’t recognize the number it came from. Maybe, she assumed, it was some weird sexting game that went to the wrong person.

A few days later, she got more.

-You’ll be my brainless bimbo dolly.
-You’re going to giggle while you beg me to fuck you.
-I’ve already started, I just think it’s funny to tell you that it’s happening.

She was starting to get a bit freaked out. Weird sex game or not, this was uncomfortable. She didn’t hear anything else that day, though.
The next day there was another.

-When I send you a text, you reply to me right away.

She laughed aloud at that - no chance she was going to engage this creep! - but despite herself, she found her fingers moving, texting him back.

-Who are you? Why are you bothering me?

They texted back and forth like that for hours. She couldn’t stop herself. Every so often he’d give her a command - start your sentences with ‘Umm’. Use ‘like’ and ‘totally’ more often. No words over three syllables. Call me ‘Sir’. She couldn’t help but do as he said. She wanted nothing more than to shut off her phone and run off, but she knew she had to reply to him right away.

-Do you know what I’m doing to you?
-Umm, no Sir, I don’t understand what’s going on.
-I’m mindfucking you. Just like I said I would.
-Umm, please don’t, Sir! I like, just want to be left alone!

He ignored her pleas that he stop. He told her to go put on something sexy for him and she couldn’t keep herself from hopping up eagerly, slipping into a tight black top that her showed her breasts wonderfully. He told her to sound happy and her requests to be left alone vanished. All her texts now were giggly and excited, spoken like a true ditzy doll. She fought, but she could barely resist his commands for a second.

-Are you having fun, dolly?
-Umm, like absolutely, Sir! Ohmigawd this is soooo cool!
-I know it is! I know you don’t mean that, either. But you will in a moment.
-Ummm, what do you mean, Sir?

She read that last text nervously. What was he going to do to her? She tried desperately to not read the next text as it came through, but it was useless.

-You’re a bimbo. My brainless bimbo dolly. Everything you’ve been acting like in these texts, that’s who you really are. The old you’s gone, the new, better you is all that’s left. My little empty-headed toy.

She read it, feeling her resistance vanish. She squealed happily as the knowledge of who she was washed over her. Why had she fought against this? This was amazing!

-Ooooooh Sir I feel soooo great! Ummm, thank you for mindfucking me! Mmmm you’re like, totally the best!

She giggled to herself happily, twirling her hair as she texted her new Master.

(Thanks to theducttapechannel for the idea of a girl knowing she’s being bimbofied, but being unable to stop it. This was challenging to write, but a lot of fun!)

Master preferred for his bimbo-slaves to go about the house naked. But he was a kind and understanding Master. Eating breakfast naked on Master’s sunny veranda in full view of the neighbors wasn’t exactly a smart idea, and sometimes the house was chilly. So as long as she remembered to ask Master for permission a bimbo-slave was allowed to wear a robe in such circumstances. And He always made sure that it was appropriately soft, pink, and frilly.