By Bimbo Candy, 2011
"We need to talk." That’s a text no one wants to get from their boyfriend of four months. And Patricia was expecting the worst when she stepped into her boyfriend Mark’s apartment. She found him on the couch, a manila folder lying next to him.
"Hi honey, I found these," he said, handing her the folder.
She opened it, and was greeted by a picture of a topless girl smiling back at her. The girl, who was blonde, had taken a picture of herself with her phone in the mirror. She seemed completely oblivious to the fact that whoever she had sent that picture to might put it online, where strangers could drool over her. The girl had a vacant expression on her face, made worse by her silly “kissy lips” pose. She had a fake-looking tan, and clearly had implants, judging from the size and firmness of her boobs. In short, a typical bimbo.
Frantically, Patricia started paging through the pages in the folder, on each finding a picture of another bimbo. She did not have to look closely at them: She had seen them countless times before. Late at night, with Google’s image search, punching in keywords like “bimbo”, “blonde”, “busty”, “fake tits”, “dumb slut”, etc. Finding pictures like these and fantasizing about what it would be like to be one of those girl, all body and no brain. And saving her favorites on her laptop, deep in a hierarchy of mundanely named folders. Certain that no one would ever know of her dirty secret.
"H-how did you find these?" she asked, feeling her cheeks slowly blushing.
"I didn’t mean to pry, honestly," Mark said. "I was trying to make your laptop faster, like you asked me to, and I couldn’t understand why you had a folder called ‘Old school stuff’ with more than 1.4 GB of material."
Her face turned beat red. Was it really that much? Some of the files were movie clips, like the video to “My Boobs are OK”, but she had no idea that she had collected that much.
"At first I thought you were lesbian," Mark continue. "Until I found the essays."
Oh no! He had also found her diary-like essays, in great detail describing her fantasies. About how she should be turned into a bimbo, going from a hardworking student to a ditzy fucktoy.
"Is that how you really feel?" he asked her.
Patricia considered denying everything, but she could not lie to the person she loved. So with her head hanging with shame, she said:
"It is, honey. I’m so sorry I kept this from you. I just didn’t want you to think your girlfriend was some weird sex freak."
"I don’t think you’re a freak," he said. "Actually, I think your fantasy is pretty hot."
"Those things you wrote, about submitting to a man, letting him remodel your body and your life to fit his sexual fantasies, do you really mean that?"
She was silent for a long time, thinking about what her answer would mean. For her. For him. For them. Finally, she spoke:
"Yes honey. I’ve been struggling with these fantasies for a long time. And the more I do, the more convinced I become that that is who I really am."
"That sounds good," he said. "I suggest you start showing your submission by stripping naked and getting down on your knees. Right now."
She swallowed hard, and started disrobing. Patricia was by no means ugly, with her clear blue eyes, thin body, and a round little butt that Mark lovingly referred to as her “bubble butt”. But she was no sex icon either, with her B cup breasts and ordinary brown hair reaching her shoulders. All that would change. But right now she was just a shy, petite anthropology student, kneeling naked at her boyfriend’s feet.
"Very good. Now I want you to start playing with yourself. A hand on your pussy and one on your tits."
Tits! She had never heard him talk about them like that. While still on her knees, she spread her legs and started playing with herself, like he had commanded. At first it felt mechanical, but soon her body was reacting to her rubbing, and she found her nipples getting hard, and her pussy getting moist.
"A lot of things are going to change," he said, a big grin on his face. "First of which is your name. You will no longer be Patricia, but Trixie. You will introduce yourself as Trixie, and when anybody calls you by your old name, you will correct them, telling them that your name is Trixie now."
Trixie slowly nodded, the lust making her feel lightheaded.
"Secondly, you’re going to become a real fuckdoll. As soon as we are done here, you’re picking up the phone and making an appointment with a plastic surgeon. You will tell him that you want some implants in your tits, upgrading from a B to a Double D. And get some collagen in those lips as well."
She imagined herself with tits that size. On her small frame, they would look even bigger, much too big to be natural. Everybody would know she had gotten a boob job.
"Tomorrow, you’re going to the hairdresser to have your hair bleached platinum blonde. You will also get some extensions, so your hair will reach at least halfway down your back, maybe as far as to your ass. Then it’s off to a beauty salon to get long clip-on nails, and get you a Brazilian Vax. Finally, you’ll go to the tanning salon for your first of many tanning sessions. You’ll look like a total Valley Girl when I’m done with you."
She thought about getting her pussy waxed. She had kept her pubic hair trimmed, not daring to shave them completely. But now she was going to be smooth and hairless, just like those blonde barbie dolls in the folder. Her nipples were rock hard as she kept playing with herself, thinking about her new life.
"When you’ve gotten your implants and have healed up nicely, I’ll take you to a tattoo parlor. You’re going to get a tramp stamp and a little Playboy Bunny tattoo right by your pussy. You will also get a tongue stud, nipple rings, and a cute little dangley in your belly button."
Trixie was unable to think straight, moaning softly as she kept rubbing her pussy. She was willing to do anything for Him, even having her body changed according to his sexual fantasies.
"Finally, you can forget about finishing your education. You will stop going to classes, and we will donate your textbooks to a secondhand bookstore. From now on, your time will be spent watching beauty programs on tv, listening to stupid pop songs, and going to the gym, the beauty salon, and the tanning salon."
"What about my presentation in Ethnic Studies?" she asked. "It’s this Monday at one, and it’ll account for one third of my final grade."
"Oh yes, that one. Don’t worry, you will still go to that one. But you will be given no time to prepare, and your lunch just before will consist of two shots of tequila and one hour of heavy petting. And you will be having a remote-controlled vibrator in your pussy during the entire presentation."
"Oh my God. I’ll be humiliated."
"Yes you will. Imagine your teacher and classmates seeing you with platinum hair and skimpy clothes, clueless as you try to make sense of the material. All of them thinking that if you had spent more time with the book and less time at the hairdresser, you might be getting a passing grade."
She felt her cheeks burning as he continued:
"The next time they see you will be at the finals. You will have gotten your fake tits by then, and you will be just as unprepared as you were at the presentation. You will have spent the entire weekend partying, and will be obviously hung over as you wobble into the classroom on your six inch heels. No one will expect you to pass, and they will be absolutely right. Once you’ve gotten your string of F’s, you’ll go to the student office and tell them that you’re dropping out, telling them that you’re too stupid to be in college."
The old Patricia would have been objecting by now, but Trixie was just a horny little girl, eager to satisfy her man.
"Sir?" she asked, her breath shallow. "Would you like to… you know… fuck your new bimbo?"
"Nah," he grinned, "bimbos should earn their orgasms. But if you ask real nice, I’ll let you give me a blowjob. And if you do a good job, I might let you rub yourself to orgasm, right there on the floor."
She spread her legs wider and pushed her little chest out, wanting to look as sexy as possible.
"Sir, may I please suck your cock?"
He laughed out loud at the little bimbo wannabe at his feet and nodded at her. Eagerly, she opened his pants and took his cock out. Without breaking eye contact, she took it in her mouth and started bobbing her head up and down on it.
Mark just folded his hands behind his neck and leaned back, thinking about all the fun he was going to have with his new toy.