The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Bimbo or Billionaire: Payday or Paisa

Round Two

“Aaaand the bimbo symbol means we’re going for Clothing style! Audience, get ready, your categories are: Gym Bunny, Miami Nights, Suits and Ties, and Sexy Traditional Culture Wear! I think we know where this is going…” Jack smiled with a shit-eating grin.

We roared back into the game. I was feeling confident with my winning streak and I was ready to make sure that I walked out of here a free women, despite how ridiculous I now looked. But damnit, my first case back in the game stopped my winning streak. Chrissi opened case twenty one and I was back to yet another irreversible step towards full bimboization.

“And the audience says: Miami Nights! This means that you’ll always want to wear skin tight nightclub dresses that are classy but show a tremendous amount of skin, especially your legs, back, silicon enhancements, and that fantastically round ass. Oh, and you’ll always need to wear hoop earrings” he proclaimed with a giddy excitement.

“Errrrrgh!” I suddenly moaned in pain through my thick, engorged lips, as the arches of my feet rose off the ground and pulled me onto the tips of cranked-up feet. I couldn’t stand flat on my feet! Something in my mind told me to stand on my toes, so I did, and a wave of relief came across my doe-eyed, resting bitch face

“Oh, that’s right! I forgot to mention that. Stephanie, nobody in the Miami party scene is wearing flats, so you will never be able to walk in flats again. You’ll need at least six-inch heels or higher to feel comfortable when standing or walking or evening just getting out of bed!”

Damnit. My own feet betrayed me so that I had to look like I was either a hooker or someone who was constantly ready to party. My shapely legs now locked in place my enormously round ass and I found comfort in slightly bending the small of my back to stand up straight.

I looked in the television feed at my Latin body. Was that….

“Dho aye have a tah-thoo?” I asked Jack aloud, also wondering to myself.

“Oh! Why yes, Stephanie, indeed, you do! Body art is popular among the party-going Miami crowd. It looks like Miami Nights has taken care of that, too, and branded you a party girl!”

In my bare midriff outfit, I spotted a side-torso tattoo. A simple long flower design with long vines rode the side of my curvaceous torso from the top of my right spherical ass cheek up over my structurally widened hip along the right side of my tiny tight waist and stopped right at the height of my large silicon tit. It wasn’t complicated but it highlighted how large the relative proportions of my new body were. I hated it, but goddamn, I knew it was sexy.

“Ih hahd a clotheeing change y e-I ghot fohrced ohn mí toes y receeived a tatuaje?!?”

“Well, Stephanie, what can I say? The Collar of Fate mirrors its topics exactly! And what else are high heels and tattoos, if not personal styling that’s best appreciated during night life?”

I rolled my big black eyes out of exasperation, although I’m pretty sure the crowd was just staring at my tits. This was useless. I wish I could have not continued the game.

“Let’s move onwards, Stephanie. I’m sure the crowd wants to continue its theme and you want that mooh-lah!”

“Lhet’s do k-ase...bventy-uoane,” I attempted to enunciate.

Chrissi opened the case to reveal another bimbo symbol!

“Ghaaaaaa….” I exclaimed. I felt desperate now.

Chrissi barely knew what was going on at this point. She just winked and did the kissy face to the camera and positioned herself for the next case.

“Audience! Stephanie needs your help! Your vocabulary categories are: Speaking Your Mind, Proper English, Valley Girl, and Simply Sweet! I will say, Stephanie, these categories for vocabulary seem rather simple considering your theme.”

As usual, the audience dialed away, as I sat there as an exhibition. A sexy exhibition.

“The audience has chosen Simply Sweet! This, of course, means that your vocabulary will be nothing but sweet-as-dulce-de-leche phrases.”

The Collar of Fate spooled up quickly and went right to work. It was a fast change, as it only took about five to ten seconds. My face and gaze went slack and out of focus, although my “O” lips sat passively open, as the Collar turned on and off a few mental switches in the firing synapses of my brain. Something was changing in my mind but I had heretofore not known what it would be.

“Well, Stephanie, you know the audience wants to hear you speak. Let’s give it a go, shall we?”

“Ohhh, por supesto, Yjack…” I purred in my low and husky voice. “Ehhh you ahre so vhery kínde ahnd ygentlemanly toh ahsk me dat. I whood lhove to tahlk more for you.”

My words, obfuscated in both accent and huskiness, poured out of my mouth like molasses. I sounded so calm and slightly submissive, but so confidently sexy that it was ridiculous.

“Your vocabulary from now on will compliment any listener with your deep and husky voice. As angry as you might get, you’ll always be kind with the compliments and sweet to the ear,” Jack explained.

Shit, I thought. How could I communicate with the outside world now? I don’t look like me, I don’t sound like me, and now I can’t even say things that I would normally say!

“And the next case is….?” Jack said, knowing exactly what he was doing.

“Ohhhh, I whuod luuve casé seis,” I said with luscious words out of my luscious mouth.

“Ohhhhhhh and the bimbo symbol rears its bimboness again! Stephanie, lady luck has suckered you in. This time the subject is Career Change. Your fortunate categories are: Serving the Public, Trophy Wife, Dirty Dancing, and His Girl Friday. I think we know exactly where this is going, don’t we Stephanie?”

I glared at him through my big black eyes and arched eyebrows with as close to a scowl on my mouth as possible, given the reinforced “O” pout of my augmented orifice.

“Dirty Dancing! Hot damn! That was almost unanimous!” said Jack, as he raised his hands to the side of his face and lightly clapped them together to commence the change.

The collar of fate whizzed into action and I could feel some part of my internal wiring change as suddenly the ridiculous theme music seemed WAY more easy to dance and move to. I wanted to sway my wide hips suddenly and shake my silicone trophies.

“So, Stephanie, this means that you are someone who sure knows how to dance. Maybe it’s a scandalous classy partner dance or maybe it’s just down-right dirty dancing in a club. Any dance is sexier when you can’t help but grind, drop it low, or straddle other women. Oh, and that your ability to climb and spin on a pole will be second nature.”

My formerly glaring eyes were now wide. I’m a fucking stripper?!

“Só lindo, Iyam an exyhotic dancer?” I asked in a purr.

“No, Stephanie, you’re not a stripper per se but you’ll likely find it an easy profession. So between your new love of dirty dancing and your ability to use of that incredibly round ass to make a living, I think it’s a fantastic career choice to consider if you’re not a billionaire…”

I took his personal challenge and exclaimed the next case!

“Caíse uone!”

With the bimbo symbol gleaming under the show lights, I braced as much as I could for another change.

“Oh goodness, goodness Stephanie, your next change is compulsion! The categories are: Roaming Hands, Public Performance, Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap, or Rolling in the Deep. Care to take a stab at the result, guapa?” Jack said, as he made a mild pelvic thrust at the same time he said “stab.” He knew I couldn’t say anything that wasn’t sweet…

“Oh Stephanie, it looks like you’re in new territory. The audience selected Rolling in the Deep!”

“Awwwww, dhat’s suo naice...” I said in my husky voice while my brain screamed. I had no idea what this category was, but I couldn’t stand the audience’s choices!

Jack turned to the curious audience. “Basically, Stephanie here will have a compulsion for a being taken advantage of while being high on designer drugs, so she will constantly be ‘rolling,’ the party term for being high on molly or MDMA. Her body will automatically produce enough MDMA in her bloodstream so that she will constantly have heightened serotonin, heightened sense of vision, sound, and touch. In short, every sense of hers will be magnified and constantly be on blast.”

“Porque?! Whay wud anhyone w?nt dthat ygorgeous?” I said in my ridiculous accent out of my ridiculously collagen’d mouth.

“Because you’ll feel euphoria while everyone else will be feeling you! I promise, you’ll love this, mamacita.” Jack said as he turned to walk back towards the stage, as the Collar of Fate whirred to life.

“Ohhhhhh dghuuuuuooooooohhhhhhhhhhmmmmmmmmm...” I tried to say something not sweet but my husky voice just melted into a confused moan that drew to a pleasant hum through my ridiculously luscious mouth. All audience eyes were on me as I experienced a mild high that pleasantly crescendoed. I felt thirty pounds lighter and incredibly happy. Everything felt fantastically agreeable and the cheesy music playing was somehow remarkable.

“Ohhhhhhhh wow dthis efeels marvillosaaaaa…” I cooed from my perfected Latin ‘fuck-me’ face.

My big dark brown eyes dilated into saucers as I quickly accommodated my forced dosing. This is what I popped at raves in Ibiza, but now there was no bumping music, just lights that awed me and a heightened sense of over-stimulation.

I sat there wide-eyed as my body experienced my drugged state. My hands were rubbing and caressing my silicone breasts, which got goosebumps as a result. Feeling the marvel of my man made body was incredible as I was still acclimating to my drugged existence. The sensation of touch against my body stretched by silicone was beyond pleasing. In this permanent narco state, the effects of even a cock in my mouth would spike my euphoria and the pleasure piping directly to my brain.

“You know, I keep saying your name out loud, it makes me realize that I keep mispronouncing your name. How about, instead of your Americanized name Stephanie, let’s use your real name, Estefaní?”

I hated the idea because my name was one of the last pieces of my identity that was still intact, even though I could no longer pronounce it. But I knew I had no choice and my mind was swimming is drug-induced euphoria. This was part of the show and now this was me. I oddly couldn’t care that much I felt so high.

“Estefaní” I said calmly and my brain and vocabulary downloaded it with voracity. I was now Estefaní.

“Jyes, jyes I leike Estefaní...!” I proclaimed with some unknown enthusiasm.

“That’s a good girl,” Jack said patronizingly. Jack took his hand and stroked my shoulder. I could feel the texture of his skin pass down mine to create a superbly satisfying friction and I yearned for him to grab my structurally widened hips or my taught, round, silicon ass cheek.

“Ohhh babee...ples, ples, da-me” I moaned through my fantastically pumped lips and gazed through my wide, dark, and dilated eyes. I was a slave to my senses and I was so ashamed of how much I loved it.

“Only if you make another case selection, sweetheart.”

“Ohhhh Yjjjaaaacky” I tried to say. The sweet vocabulary and my drugged existence made words flow slowly out of my ridiculous mouth like molasses. “Leth’s guo wid caíse tirt-heen.”

“Well there it is Estefaní. Another fateful symbol, my dear. The audience now gets to select a fetish!”

I was only half able to comprehend the show at this point. Everyone spoke fast and I was enjoying my state of being beyond measure.

“And your categories are: Breast Obsessed, Latex and Lace, Fit to be Tied, and Ass Obsessed.”

“Thoughts Estefaní?”

“No sé Jack, pero I e-think it’llbe ahhhh-ss ahbsesssed” I prognosticated while taking a deep conscious breath that rose my implanted breasts and tried to focus my comprehension.

“Well hot damn, you are right! From now on, you’ll be Ass Obsessed. How do you feel about that?”

I sat there for two seconds and then just giggled. I felt so good that my dire situation wasn’t even phasing me.

At the Collar’s disposal, my mind quickly changed gears as I gained a fetish about booty. Their roundness, their volume, their firmness. I suddenly couldn’t get enough! And since I was the only sexy person on stage, I guess I best appreciated my assets….?

My roaming hands immediately grabbed my silicon ass cheeks as a I rubbed and admired their roundness, sculpted sphericalness, volume, firmness, and stretched form. My fetish was an immediate compliment to my compulsions, as I sat there running my hands over silicon assets with my wandering hands and drugged enhanced reality. I was experiencing sensory overload just sitting there by myself!

“Heeeehehe, ohhooooooooo…” I cooed, as I couldn’t do anything but escape reality in both body and mind. The rubbing of my silicon existence had made my nipples erect and I kept getting goose bumps from all of the sensations my roaming hands gave me.

I’m not sure if there was a commercial break or if the audience just wanted a little bit of a show, but nothing happened for a while, as I just sat there caressing my fantastically augmented body in front of the crowd.

“So…...Estefaní. You’re going to have to stay with us. This is your final chance. You have to get this, otherwise the game is over. Are you ready? What will the selection be?”

“Caí-es elebven” I said casually, still artificially feeling good about myself.

Chrissi strutted over to reveal the final case as a bimbo symbol. She had no idea that she just convicted me to a lifetime of bimboization.

“Oh! Estefaní, you found the final bimbo case! Wow, you had such a fantastic run in the first round, but didn’t even make it to round three. This might be some kind of record. Are you ready for the final Collar of Fate transformation?”

“Oh, Yjack, por favor, give me dtha fínal chan-jez like a ygentleman...” I purred with my drugged, molasses vocabulary. That was the best ‘fuck you’ I could muster.

The crowd jumped to their feet, cheering and hollering.

I could hear the Collar of Fate crank into action as it sputtered to life. I had three seconds of moral and mental clarity before the Collar of Fate changed me forever. What had I done? I was a drugged Colombian escort ready to party in every sense of the word. What the hell happened?! Please….!

The Collar of Fate reached its peak whirring as its functionality began and the transformation hit my being. The brain fog rolled in, my remaining intelligence faded into oblivion, and the fog stayed. All that remained was my lust, my euphoric, drugged sense of pleasure, and my silicon Latina trophy body.

“Estefaní, you have been re-made into one hell-of-a-bimbo! Take a moment to debut yourself to the crowd!” Jack announced.

“Hola audiencia! Estefaní es muy guapa porque de tus decisiones! Me encanta mi cuerpa nueva! Gracias para siempre!!” I yelled excitedly as I ran my hands over my silicone tits down my tiny core and over my expansive rounded hips and ass in a exhibitionist display of appeal.

Jack looked back at the Collar of Fate technician with an “is-everything-okay?” look. It seemed that my intelligence drain accidentally cleared out all of my remaining English, too.