The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The First Step

By: Chrystal Wynd

“Tell me you’re a bimbo.”

I laughed. “Very funny, Kent,” I said. “My hair is too dark to qualify me as a dumb blonde. Besides, just because I’m handcuffed naked in your bed doesn’t mean you can make me say whatever you want.”

Kent chuckled. “Are you sure, Natasha?” he said.

I rolled my eyes. “I’m sure,” I said. “You’re cute, but you’re not that cute.”

Kent feigned a hurt look. “Sharon thinks I’m cute,” he said, as he checked to make sure my handcuffed wrists were secured above my head.

I grinned in spite of myself. His girlfriend Sharon was my co-worker, and she was the reason I was seducing Kent. She had pissed me off.

“I’m sure she does, baby,” I cooed, “but she doesn’t treat you as nice as I do, does she?”

“That’s true,” he said, his hands securing my ankle as he spoke.

“And Sharon won’t let you tie her up like this to have fun, will she?” I said.

He moved around the bed and began securing my other ankle. “No, she won’t,” he said.

“And my baby is really going to enjoy doing me tied up, isn’t he?” I said.

Kent grinned. “Oh, definitely,” he said.

I gave him my most devastating smile. Actually, I was only letting him tie me up because he was a control freak and I had a feeling it was the only thing that would get him to cross the line. He was very devoted to Sharon and getting him to actually cheat on her was proving far more difficult than I had expected. Still, it was finally going to happen tonight. After tonight, I wouldn’t have to coddle him anymore and I could go to work tomorrow with a definitive smirk for Sharon. Heh.

“So what Sharon thinks just doesn’t matter, does it, baby?” I said.

Kent checked my ankle and nodded in satisfaction. Then he looked back at me. “I don’t know about that,” he said. “Why don’t we ask her?”

I laughed. Then a pretty red-headed woman walked into the room.

“Hello, Natasha,” she said.

I blinked as my brain scrambled to catch up. Finally I just blurted, “Sharon?”

Sharon laughed. “I told you, Kent,” she said. “I told you Natasha was just a stupid bimbo.”

I clenched my teeth. Being tied up and naked put me at a serious disadvantage, but there was no way I was letting that bitch get to me. “Bite me,” I said. “I was just surprised, that’s all. That hardly counts as stupid.”

“You’re right, sweetie,” said Sharon. “Thinking you could seduce my boyfriend is proof enough. Don’t you ever get tired of stealing everyone’s boyfriends?”

I rolled my eyes. “Whatever,” I said. I subtly tested the strength of the handcuffs, but they held tight.

Sharon sat on the bed next to me. She let her finger trail over my bare belly as she spoke.

“I’ll tell you what,” she said. “I’m in a generous mood. Just admit you’re a bimbo and we’ll call it even.”

“Oh, please,” I said. “Go play with yourself.”

Sharon laughed. “So defiant!” she said. She looked over to Kent. “This will be fun.”

Kent nodded. “Oh, yes.”

Sharon stood up and walked toward the head of the bed, where my wrists were cuffed together over my head. She ran her fingertip over my belly, between my breasts and along my left arm as she did so. Then she cupped my hands between hers.

“Come on, now,” she said. “Admit it. Just say, ‘I’m a bimbo.’”

“Bite me.”

“Tsk tsk,” she said. “Very well. I guess I’ll just have to prove it to you.”

I had no idea what she meant. Her hands were still on my hands, however, and suddenly I felt her hands become very warm. Then I felt sharp pains in my palms, but I instinctively relaxed my fists and the sharp pains went away.

“There,” she said. “Now you have very pretty nails.”

I gave her a strange look. “What are you talking about?”

Sharon stepped back into my line of sight. She raised her hand and pointed toward my feet. I raised my head and looked where she was pointing.

My toenails were a bright bimboey red.

I blinked. My toenails had been unpainted when I undressed minutes earlier.

Sharon reached down and patted my cheek. “Your fingernails are the same color,” she said, “and much longer than they were. Bimbos should have long, pretty nails, after all.” She smiled again. “At least you don’t have to worry about breaking a nail. Your nails are now much stronger than normal, and even if one breaks, it will grow back in less than a day.”

My mind whirled as I tried to take in what Sharon was saying. How the hell had she done that? Then, after a moment, I laughed.

“All right, that’s actually kind of clever,” I said. “Cute, even. I’ll even admit I have no idea how you did it. It doesn’t change anything, though.”

“So you’re still not prepared to admit you’re a bimbo, Natasha?” said Sharon.

I rolled my eyes. “No, Sharon, I’m not a bimbo. I’m twice as smart as you any day of the week.”

She smiled and shook her head as if in wonder. “You’re laying there naked after trying to screw my boyfriend, you have those adorable nails,” she said, “and yet, you don’t think you’re a bimbo. Wow. Everything you do is bimboey.”

She sat on the bed, her hip pressed against mine. I steeled myself as I suddenly felt her fingertips lightly brushing my inner calf and working their way up my inner thigh. I kept my voice perfectly calm. “Do you mind not touching me?” I said. “I have no idea where your hands have been.”

Sharon laughed. “Oh, come on, now, bimbo,” she said. “I’m sure you love this.”

I hardened my tone. “No,” I said, “I don’t.” I tried not to jump as her finger actually slid into my pubic hair. “And I would appreciate you taking your hands off- Oh!”

I had jumped, my eyes wide, because she had slipped her finger inside my pussy.

I forced myself to calm down. I would die before I let this bitch get to me. I spread my thighs a little wider- as far as I could, considering that my ankles were secured, anyway- and let my voice take on a casual affectation.

“If you think you’re turning me on, lezzy,” I said, “you’re sadly mistaken. But maybe if you moved your finger to the left a little…” Then I shrugged and looked at the ceiling like I was bored. In my peripheral vision, I saw Kent watching in rapt fascination.

Sharon’s finger began to slide over my clit in a repetitious manner. Strangely enough- although I hadn’t actually thought it possible because of the circumstances- the relentless friction began to send tiny tendrils of pleasure into my belly. Embarrassingly, my hips bucked slightly in an involuntary response to her ministrations, but I acted like nothing was happening. The pleasure was growing, however, so to distract myself, I focused on the leering Kent.

“What are you looking at, perv?” I said. “See something you like?”

Kent nodded, unfazed. “Yes, actually,” he said.

I had to stop paying attention to him then, because the pleasure in my belly was growing rapidly and my involuntary responses were becoming more significant.

“All right, lezzy,” I said, my teeth clenched. “Knock it off.” I tried to close my thighs, but my ankles were tied too far apart to let me do so. Despite my extreme discomfort with her finger penetrating me, my belly muscles were jumping and twitching in heated response.

“Oh, poor baby,” she said. “Are you getting all hot and bothered from this? Just admit you’re a bimbo and I’ll stop.”

Grrrrr. That fucking bitch.

“Bite me,” I said. “That’ll never happen. Go ahead and get your cheap thrills.”

Sharon laughed. “Some girl you barely know just walks in and starts fingering your clit and you get all wet and gushing, but you don’t think you’re a bimbo,” she said. “You’re adorable, Natasha, you know that?”

Gawd, her finger was driving me crazy. That one finger felt like it was touching every hot button I had inside my pussy. My hips were beginning to buck reflexively and I was struggling to make sure no inadvertent sounds came from my mouth.

“Just admit it,” she said. “The first step in accepting a situation is to admit you have a problem.”

I opened my mouth to tell her to screw herself, but what actually came out was a mewl of pure need. I hadn’t meant to make a sound at all, but my heat and arousal were escalating beyond belief. My nipples were rock hard, I was wetter than I had ever been in my entire life and I couldn’t stop my hips from bucking. I was moments away from an explosive orgasm.

And that’s when she slid her finger out of my pussy.

My eyes widened and my mouth opened to protest. The sudden emptiness in my pussy was almost a physical pain. I wanted to throttle the wench, but I couldn’t show her how much she was getting to me.

“Well?” she said, laying a hand across my pubic hair, but not penetrating me. “Are you ready to admit you’re a bimbo?”

I bucked my hips angrily, trying to get her hand away from my pussy. “Get bent, bitch!” I said through clenched teeth.

“How rude!” she said. “I think you need a lesson in manners. Wouldn’t you agree, Kent?”

“Yeah,” he said. “She does have a bit of an attitude.”

Sharon gazed at my pussy in an assessing manner. “Hmmmm. I think I see part of the problem,” she said. “It’s all this hair down here. I bet it’s making her cranky. That really needs to be cleaned up.”

Kent nodded in mock agreement. “Oh, yes, definitely.”

My heart was still pounding and my arousal hadn’t dropped a bit. It was getting hard to follow their conversation. But Sharon wiped her hand across my pussy and suddenly I felt different there. It took me a moment to identify the sensation, and then I realized what it was.

I had somehow just been shaved smooth. By her hand.

My wet pussy now gleamed and it made me feel embarrassingly obscene. My mind was struggling with the extreme arousal that just dominated my every movement and the horrible confusion of trying to figure out how Sharon was doing these things. How the hell did she manage to sweep off my black curlies with the palm of her hand? Confused, frustrated, I bucked my hips sideways at Sharon, knocking her off the bed.

She stumbled slightly as she came off the bed, although, disappointingly, she didn’t fall. She gave me a direct look.

“That,” she said, “wasn’t very nice.” Then she extended her hands and jumped at me.

I gasped in shock as I felt her fingers tighten in my hair. Remembering what I had just seen her do to my pubic hair with her hand, my heart pounded in my throat in sudden panic. I saw her arms flex and then she was pulling my hair with strength. I bucked desperately.

Then I stopped. Something was wrong. It wasn’t hurting. Sharon was pulling my hair, and with strength, but I didn’t feel anything. Then I realized what was wrong.

Her hands were slowly moving downward, but my head was stationary. Somehow, someway, she was making my hair grow. But that wasn’t all.

The hair she was seemingly pulling from my head was turning into tight, blonde curls.

I threw myself into a frenzy, trying to pull my hair from her hands. She just gave me a bemused look.

“Stop it,” she said, “or I’ll snatch you bald. Literally.”

Infuriated, I stopped bucking. Fuming, I had to suffer the indignity of laying there as Sharon slowly pulled a full head of curly blonde hair all the way down past my waist. She used scissors to cut off the black ends that were my original hair. I knew that when I stood up, my now curly blonde locks would dangle to my waist.

Sharon stepped back to admire her work. Then she held up a mirror for me to see.

“The interesting thing about your hair now, bimbo,” said Sharon, “is that it’s like your fingernails in that you won’t even need to get it trimmed or cut. In fact, if you try to cut it any shorter than it is now, it will grow back. In hours, if not minutes. Quicker than it will take you to wash and blow-dry all that hair.”

I looked in the mirror, speechless. My black hair was gone. My head was a mass of tight blonde curls. I looked adorable and brainless.

Kent spoke up. “Sharon, that was really cool the way you did that! Is that how you got that gorgeous red hair?”

She smiled at Kent. “No, baby. This is natural. I can’t change anything on myself.” Then she turned back to me.

“Well, Natasha,” she said, setting the mirror aside. “Tell me; are you ready to admit you’re a bimbo? You going to have a hard time convincing anybody you’re not at the moment.”

The arousal she had ignited inside me was burning just as hot now as when she had been fingering me. Humiliation, embarrassment and horrible sexual frustration peaked in a sudden furious tirade.

“You fucking bitch!” I screeched. “I am not a bimbo! No matter what you say! You’re just jealous ‘cuz your boyfriend wants to screw me, even if he won’t say so now! I am not a bimbo and you can stick it up your mmmmppphhhh…!“

My words had become muffled because Sharon had slapped her hand over my mouth. She shook her head.

“Wow, what a mouth you have, bimbo,” she said. “But, you know what? I can help you with this problem.” Then, her hand still covering my lips, she closed her eyes in what seemed to be concentration.

I blinked. Something was happening. My mouth felt strange under Sharon’s hand. Then her eyes opened.

“There,” she said. “All done.” She removed her hand from my mouth and picked up the mirror again, holding it so I could see what she had done.

My eyes widened again, my heart beating in my throat. My lips had swelled into huge plump pillows. Even worse, they were a bright, bimboey red that matched my nails perfectly. No man could look at my lips without imagining them wrapped around his shaft, stroking up and down, my tongue sliding along the underside, waiting for that sudden explosion of liquid heat in my mouth, my belly filling as his balls emptied into my warm, wet mouth…

Suddenly I gasped and pulled myself out of the embarrassingly heated daydream I had fallen into. What the hell was wrong with me? There was no way…NO WAY…I was going to let this wench beat me. NO WAY.

I shrugged. “So they’re a wittle lush,” I said. “Big deal.” Then I gasped.

Sharon laughed. “Yes, sweetie, you have a lisp. And, may I add, it’s adorable on you! Anyway, thick bee-stung lips are important for bimbos. After all, everybody knows bimbos love sucking cock.”

Gawd, this was hard. My lips were extremely sensitive. In fact, they seemed as sensitive as my clit, and my clit was already far more sensitive than it had ever been ever since Sharon had fingered me earlier. I summoned all my strength, however, and said, “That’s probably true, but I wouldn’t know. I’m not a bimbo, slut.”

“Really?” said Sharon. Then she slid a casual finger between my lips.

I gasped, then moaned around her finger. My lips unconsciously wrapped themselves around the appendage.

“Hmmmm,” said Sharon. “You’re not being very convincing, sweetie. Let’s put it to a tougher test.” She looked over to Kent.

“Oh, yes,” said Kent. “An excellent idea.”

Sharon slid her finger from my mouth and looked at me. “Let’s find out.”

I had no idea what they were talking about…until I realized that Kent’s cock was about six inches from my face.

“That’s just a cock, sweetie,” said Sharon. “If you’re not a bimbo, you have nothing to worry about.”

I stared at Kent’s cock helplessly. I was actually drooling. My mouth felt horribly empty.

“I’ll tell you what, sweetie,” said Sharon. “I’ll make a deal with you. Give Kent’s cock a lick. Just a lick or two. If you can stop, then I’ll have to agree with you…you’re not a bimbo. We’ll just call it a day and go our separate ways. Sound good?”

I didn’t answer. I wasn’t sure I could. For some reason, the nearness of Kent’s cock was simply dominating my attention. Kent moved a half-step closer, and I knew I had to do the lick quickly or I couldn’t pull away. I stuck out my tongue and ran it along the side of Kent’s hard shaft.

I reached the tip of his cock and I stopped. I held position, the tip of my tongue pressed against the side of Kent’s shaft. My heart jack-hammered. He tasted like sweet candy after a mouthful of salt water. His scent filled my lungs. It tasted so good. So right. Without thinking, I simply opened my mouth and wrapped my thick pillows around his cock.

Yesssssss. A serene sense of fulfillment swept over me as I felt his cock sliding into my throat. Then I shuddered in pleasure as Kent began stroking his cock into my mouth again and again.

Sharon looked at me dubiously. “For a girl who says she’s not a bimbo,” she said, “you sure like to suck cock.”

“Mmmmmppphh!” I said. I knew I could stop if I wanted to.

Sharon nodded. “I’m sure,” she said. “Anyway, nothing’s changed. Just admit you’re a bimbo and we’re finished here.”

“Mmmmmpphh!” I said, making a show of ignoring her. I made it obvious I was indulging in letting Kent stroke his cock into my mouth. I was frustratingly close to orgasming, but I just couldn’t seem to peak. I shuddered in need.

“So,” said Sharon, “you’re naked in my boyfriend’s bed, with bimbo red fingers and toes, teenybopper bimbo bunny hair, cocksucking lips and a cock in your mouth, but you don’t think you’re a bimbo? Wow.”

Gawd, that cock sliding back and forth in my mouth was distracting. My breathing quickened. I needed release so badly.

Sharon snapped. “I got it,” she said. “I know what you need to be convinced you’re a bimbo.” Her gaze dropped to my bare boobs.

My eyes widened. “Mmmmmpphhh!” I said. “Mmmmppphhhh! Mmmmmppphhh!”

Sharon smiled and laid her hands on my bare boobs. “I’ll tell you what, Ms.I-don’t-need-to-suck,” she said. “Just tell me you’re not a bimbo and I’ll stop.”

I felt a surge. I could stop her! Thank gawd!

“Well?” she said. My boobs began to tingle.

“Mmmmmpphhh!” I said. “Mmmmmmppphhh!”

“What?” said Sharon. “I didn’t understand that.”

I tried. I tried to unwrap my lips from around Kent’s cock. But I couldn’t. There was a cock in my mouth and it had to stay there until it was done.

“Uh oh,” said Sharon. “You better say it soon. You’re past a D-cup, cutie. These babies look like they’re gonna reach double D’s.”

“Mmmmpppph! Mmmmmmppphhhhh! Mmmmmmppphhhhh!”

“Ooooooooh, too late,” she said. She sat back and stared at the huge firm mounds on my chest. “Wow. I do good work.”

I could feel the weight on my chest. She had turned me into a balloon-chested beach bunny. I had a cock in my mouth that I couldn’t stop sucking. I was positive that I couldn’t be any more embarrassed than I was.

And then Kent hardened even more and exploded into my mouth.

My eyes widened yet again as my mouth suddenly filled with cum. I swallowed desperately, trying to stay ahead of the heated flood pouring from Kent’s cock. I couldn’t believe my belly was filling with semen, but I couldn’t stop swallowing the gooey flow. My cheeks flushed as Sharon watched bemused. And then, when I thought I couldn’t be any more embarrassed, Kent’s release triggered my own and I began to wriggle and buck in helpless heated pleasure.

The cock in my mouth somewhat muted my squeals, but for the observer, there was no doubt as to what was happening. It was obvious that I was having an orgasm from a man filling my belly with cum.

A little while later, Kent slipped his cock from my mouth. The sensation of his shaft sliding over my lips still caused me to shudder in pleasure. I was still dazed from my orgasm and my belly was full. I blinked and giggled, then inadvertently burped. I was sure I turned green.

“Well, Natasha?” said Sharon.

I blushed. I couldn’t look at her.

“Wow,” she said. “Okay. Well, we know you look like a bimbo and you need cock like a bimbo. There’s really only one area left to check to see if you really are a bimbo.”

“One area?” I said. I shuddered. My lisp was becoming more and more apparent.

“Yes,” said Sharon. “We’ll have to check your math skills.”

“My math skills…?” I said. Then I gasped as Sharon’s meaning became clear. “Oh!” I said. “Oh, no need! Honest! I’m a bimbo!”

“Really?” said Sharon.

I nodded desperately. “Omigod, yeth!” I said. “I am such a bimbo! I have big hair and big boobs like a bimbo! I need cock! I’m a bimbo!” I felt a strange internal click at my words.

“You sound very sure, Natasha,” said Sharon, her hands pausing near my hair.

“Oh, I am!” I said. “I am a bimbo. You are completely right!”

Sharon nodded. Then she looked at Kent. “All right,” she said. “You can release her now.”

A minute later I was stretching out my stiff muscles. This had been the most embarrassing day of my life. My fingers and toes were bimbo red, my hair was a mass of blonde curls tumbling down to my waist, my lips were thick swollen pillows and my boobs…my boobs were huge, jiggly bubbles. I was a bimbo bunny wet dream. Thank goodness it was nearly over.

“You’ll, um, you’ll change me back now, wight…?” I said.

Sharon looked at me and laughed. “Are you kidding me?”

“What?” I said. “You can’t leave me like this! I’m…I’m a bimbo! I’m lisping! Nobody will weally know I’m not like this for real!”

Sharon shrugged. “Be glad you admitted it before you lost your ability to use logic.”

I stamped my foot, inadvertently causing my heavy boobs to jiggle. “You can’t do this to me!” I said.

Sharon shrugged again. “Too bad, bimbo. You tried to steal my boyfriend. It’s locked in.”

Furious, I stomped toward her, boobs jiggling. I would be satisfied if I could slap her even once. But as I got closer, her scent seemed like sweet perfume. My nipples hardened again and I could feel myself growing slick between my legs.

Sharon smirked and began unbuttoning her jeans. “Why, bimbo,” she said, “did you think that cock is the only thing you’re addicted to?”

I found myself dropping to my knees in front of her, my lower lip wet with drool. I found myself breathlessly waiting for Sharon to let me lick her. I needed to lick her. Badly. I giggled.

Sharon reached out and patted my cheek. “I’ll tell you what,” she said. “I’ll let you lick me if you just tell me you’re a bimbo.”

THE END