The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Anyone under the age of 18, along with anyone offended by stories of a sexual nature or containing sexual situations or offended by the idea of mind control in any fashion, please do not read this story.

This story takes place in the fictional city of Chrystal Heights. This is not significant in any way other than I hope to continue creating stories involving this town.

The people and events in this story are fictional and do not represent anyone or anything from real life.

* * *

Synopsis: Two dommes in a relationship battle for dominance.

* * *

Bimbos and Bellies

By: Chrystal Wynd

I couldn’t believe my eyes.

The deejay was in the booth, checking her equipment. Her name was Cici and she was dressed in black, rocking heavy mascara and dark hair with hot pink highlights. But that wasn’t what surprised me. What surprised me was that she was even there.

“Excuse me,” I said, stopping in front of the booth, “but didn’t I just fire your ass last night?”

To her credit, the normally unflappable deejay looked uncomfortable.

“Yeah, Miss Catherine,” she said, “but Lady Isobella called and told me to come in tonight.”

“I see,” I said.

“Yeah,” said Cici. “Look, it won’t happen again, okay? Honest. We just—”

I held up my hand and Cici fell silent. “Stop,” I said. “Just drop it. If it happens again, I’ll fire you again, and this time it’ll stick. This bar is a place of business. Understood?”

Cici nodded.

I turned then and went searching for Lady Isobella.

I spotted her in the kitchen, giving directions to the wait staff. She saw me coming and waved the rest of the crew away. She gave me a smile as I stopped in front of her.

“Do you always just override my orders without checking with me first?” I said.

“Only when necessary, Catherine,” she said. “I assume you’re referring to my calling Cici back?”

“Yes,” I said, my voice ice cold. “That’s exactly what I’m referring to.”

“Kitty Katz is one of the hottest alternative clubs in downtown Chrystal Heights right now,” said Isobella. “I have no intention of going without a deejay even for a night. The girl was reprimanded and she assured me it wouldn’t happen again. You didn’t even give her a chance to explain.”

“I didn’t have to,” I said. “She screamed at me in front of the customers. That was all the explanation I needed.”

“She just had a fight with her girlfriend,” said Isobella. “Of course she was upset. Besides, you overruled me with that waitress.”

“Damn right I did,” I said. “I’m sure she was stealing. Besides, you changed half the decor without consulting me.”

“I only changed the end of the bar,” she said, “and you had it changed back without telling me.”

“I own half this bar too, you know,” I said. “fifty-fifty, remember? I have just as much authority as you do.”

“I know, dear,” said Isobella. Then she pulled me in close. “You know, it’s this fire of yours that makes me love you, but two Dommes have no business running a business together, particularly when they’re in a loving relationship.”

“Particularly when they’re both practicing witches,” I added.

“Did you say witches with a w?” said Isobella, affecting an innocent expression.

I laughed and relented, giving Isobella a quick kiss. “All right, I forgive you,” I said, “but we need to set some rules.”

“Hmmm,” she said. pretending to think about it. “All right, how about we get you pregnant and you become the good stay-at-home wifey while I take care of the business?”

“Oh!” I said, feigning excitement. “That’s a great idea! Except you need to be the girl with the belly while I run the club. I already have several frozen sperm samples at home just waiting to fertilize your gorgeous eggs, baby, remember?”

“Of course I remember, sweetie,” said Isobella, “but my twin brother would be more than happy to fertilize your adorable little eggs.”

“I’m sure he would,” I said, “but I’m too young to have a baby.”

Isobella laughed. “Very funny,” she said. “You’re twenty-five and you co-own a bar. You’re only a couple years younger than me. You’re plenty old enough.”

“True,” I said, grinning, “but somebody needs to run the club, and I have a much more commanding presence than you, baby.”

“I beg to differ, love,” said Isobella. “Presence? I can swell your little belly, turn you into the girliest thing you ever saw and run this bar like a Fortune 500 corporation.”

I smiled. “Bring it, baby,” I said, “but realize that six months from now, you’re going to be waddling around the kitchen fixing me dinner.”

“Oh, my love, I accept your challenge,” said Isobella. “I am so going to enjoy getting you barefoot and pregnant. Shall we establish some rules?”

“Yes,” I said. “Definitely. Let’s move to the office, shall we?”

“An excellent idea, love,” said Isobella.

* * *

“Now then, love,” said Isobella, “how shall we structure this?”

“Anything goes,” I said.

“Oh, good,” she said. “I was hoping you’d say that. However, let’s establish a level playing field.”

“I’m listening,” I said.

“Okay,” said Isobella. “We’re both have some ability in spell-casting and I think it’s safe to assume we’ll both be tapping into that for this contest of wills, correct?”

I smiled. “Count on it,” I said.

“All right, then,” she said. “Tonight, we’ll cast spells together that will affect us equally. Specifically, we’ll make ourselves so completely fertile that the slightest exposure to sperm will guarantee pregnancy.”

I nodded. “Good idea, actually,” I said.

“However, it will be mutually exclusive,” continued Isobella. “In other words, the moment one of us becomes pregnant, the other is instantly protected completely. That will prevent a double pregnancy and ensure a winner.”

I nodded again. “Good point,” I said. “I agree.”

“Excellent,” said Isobella. “We’ll use the casting tonight then to establish the conditions. Specifically, we will both be super fertile and the moment one of us concieves, that one will be established as the barefoot-and-pregnant girl of our union. Also, no tricks during tonight’s casting. Our contest of wills will begin at midnight. That should give us both time to cast whatever defensive spells we want in place after our casting together.”

“Agreed,” I said. “Other than that, anything goes?”

“Yes,” she said. “Just remember, love...if you lose, no bitching.”

I laughed. “I’m not going to lose, baby,” I said, “but if I did, I would bitch. That’s what I do.”

Isobella actually giggled. “That’s true, Catherine,” she said, “but it’ll be worth it. You’re going to be adorable with a belly. And I expect you to keep your toes cute when you’re barefoot, love. A nice red or even hot pink should do.”

“I’m a Domme, sweetie,” I said. “I don’t put bright colors on my nails.”

“You won’t be a Domme when you’re waddling around barefoot, love,” said Isobella.

I smiled sweetly. “Bring it, baby.” I said. “Trust me, you won’t be able to see your toes six months from now because of your belly. And I’ll be making sure your subbie little mouth gets a lot of work on my pussy when I come home from a hard day of running the club.”

* * *

It was on.

Isobella and I spent the early evening hours in a binded casting as we made ourselves highly fertile. I actually felt a bit vulnerable, like even a picture of a penis could impregnate me. I felt nervous about even shaking a man’s hand.

That done, we made love. We knew it was the last chance we had to have relaxed sex with each other, so we took full advantage of it. Not that we were going to stop having sex, but any immediate couplings would likely involve surreptitious attempts to inseminate each other.

This was going to be a wild, breathless ride...an appropriate state when two Dommes enter a contest of wills.

That done, we retreated to private rooms to build our protective auras. This was critical, as we had to protect ourselves against the more obvious spells. Casting a spell of maternity to make the opponent suddenly crave insemination was obvious, so layers of protective spells were placed.

This could only prevent specific spells, of course, so they were no guarantee. It would stop the basics, however, so the one who came up with a clever way around the spells or cast a spell that came from an unexpected direction would likely win the contest.

It was going to be an interesting contest. Admittedly, Isobella was better at defensive spells and protections than I, but I was a much better caster of aggressive spells. That suggested I should base my strategy on an immediate offensive and not give her a chance to plan one of her own.

I’d have her pregnant before the weekend. I made my plans.

* * *

The following afternoon, I decided to make my first attempt.

I knew she had likely implemented strong layers of protection against obvious spells like maternal compulsion, mental dominance or suggestion. Still, she couldn’t foresee everything, and I had an idea.

I selected a sperm sample from a guy who was a rugged physical specimen over six feet tall and possessed a genius-level I.Q. A preservation spell ensured it remained potent, and I handled it extremely carefully. Accidentally inseminating myself would be about the most embarrassing thing I could do.

It was an hour before we had to leave for the club. It was time to get the show on the road.

“Hey, baby,” I said, looking her up and down. “I like what I see. Get naked.”

Isobella raised an eyebrow. That line was one we used sometimes as a prelude to sex, but our contest gave it a definitive edge.

Isobella finally laughed. “Oh, my little fireball,” she said. “You really do believe in a damn-the-torpedoes approach, don’t you?”

I grinned, not bothering to deny it. It was obvious, after all.

“Of course, baby,” I said. “That’s what makes me a Domme.”

Isobella got to her feet and walked toward the bedroom. “Well, love,” she said, “follow me to the bedroom and I’ll show you what makes me a Domme.”

My heart rate accelerated. This was actually fun.

Our duel added a breathless intensity to our intimacy. Even stripping now took on belly-twitching significance.

“Well, now,” said Isobella. “I’m certainly not used to feeling so, ah, vulnerable, when we’re not even naked yet.”

I laughed. I knew exactly what she meant.

“All right,” I said, seeing as she wasn’t going to undress until I did. “We’ll strip at the same time.”

Isobella smiled. “Fair enough,” she said.

Once naked- and satisfied that neither of us was holding a visible sperm sample- we kissed tentatively. Interestingly, the breathless potential of this encounter was putting a spark into our kisses, and soon we were going at it with growing heat.

Of course, Isobella didn’t know I had my preserved semen hidden within easy reach. She was smart and strong, but she didn’t think as sneaky as I did.

“Mmmmm,” she said.

“Oh, yes,” I said, kissing her breasts. However, her knees remained pressed together. It was time to make my move.

I wrapped my lips around her nipple to mask the fact that I was murmuring a spell. I kept the gestures minimal and hopefully unseen. It was a simple spell and didn’t require any components beyond what I already had access to.

The spell was simple, but clever. Getting to her pussy was my goal. What easier way to spread her thighs than to cast a spell of arousal on her?

As I neared the end of the spell, I felt her wriggling. She likely realized I was casting, but it was too late to stop me.

I sat back then to watch the fireworks.

Isobella blinked in surprise. “Oh!” she said, jumping slightly. Then she laughed.

“Oh, dear,” she said. “You are a naughty girl.”

I smiled. “All’s fair in love and war, baby.”

“I’m glad you feel that way, love,” said Isobella, “because your spell got countered...and reversed.”

It took a moment for her words to sink in. Then my eyes widened as my pussy caught fire.

I squealed and fell backward. My legs popped open and my fingers flew to my pussy. Hips bucking, I desperately worked my overheated clit.

Isobella leaned forward and patted my cheek. “And also magnified, love. Do enjoy.”

I couldn’t stop working my pussy. I wriggled and writhed, pure heat ruling my body. My heart raced as I moaned and mewled, no longer able to control my reactions.

Isobella giggled. “Oh, that’s hot, love,” she said, “and I think I’ll use you to get off.”

I had a vague sensation of Isobella shifting position. Then I felt her presence above me. Finally, I realized she was straddling my face.

“That’s it, love,” she said, pressing her sex against my mouth.

I was having a string of orgasms, and my uncontrolled body movements was allowing Isobella to use my face like a vibrator.

Her back arched and her breathing quickened. I knew what she was doing, but I couldn’t stop thrusting my fingers in and out of my pussy.

Isobella orgasmed, her juices covering my cheeks. I continued working my overheated pussy.

Isobella finally got off my face. She smoothed her hair, then lay her hands on me and chanted briefly. I knew she was casting a spell, but I was moaning too much to follow it. She finally finished, then leaned down and patted my cheek.

“See?” she said. “You really do make a much better sex toy than Domme, love. It’s a pity you didn’t have your semen sample in hand when you cast your spell...our contest would already be over. Still, just as well.”

I tried to answer, but my breath hissed through my teeth. I couldn’t even talk.

Isobella headed for the shower. “Well, you’ll be busy for quite a while, love,” she said. “I”ll take care of the club, though, so just be a good little sex toy and spend the night cumming your brains out.”

I moaned as another series of orgasms ripped through my body.

* * *

I woke the next morning stiff and sore.

I sat up carefully. Isobella was sleeping soundly beside me and I didn’t want to wake her.

I slipped out of bed and walked gingerly to the bathroom. I closed the door softly and then examined my poor pussy.

Aside from being swollen and red from non-stop jilling, there didn’t seem to be any damage done. Still, I had learned my lesson. Attempting to cast a spell on Isobella’s pussy was a bad idea.

I stood on my toes and stretched. I ached from head to toe. My hips hurt. Even my boobs felt sore and swollen.

Then it hit me. My hair didn’t feel right.

I walked to the mirror and looked at my reflection. It took a moment, but I finally realized the problem.

My hair was longer and fuller than it had any business being. And I was prepared to swear that my hair was even lighter than my typical dirty blonde.

What the hell kind of counter-spell had Isobella used?

* * *

Isobella glanced up as I entered the kitchen.

She was sipping coffee as she read the news on her laptop, but she smiled enigmatically when she saw me. If she noticed my physical changes, she didn’t say so. She did, however, notice my stiff walking motion.

“Oh, you poor sweetie,” she said. “Massive multiple orgasms can really wrack the untrained body. You really shouldn’t have tried to cast that spell on me.”

“Yeah yeah yeah,” I said. “You got me good, okay? But it was mostly luck. Don’t expect it to happen again.”

“Of course not, love,” said Isobella. “I’ll just have to get you a different way next time.”

“Ha!” I said. “No chance of that. That was the best opportunity you’re going to get.”

Isobella gave me an infuriating smile. “No doubt you’re right, love,” she said.

Actually, I felt pretty confident she wouldn’t get another opportunity like the one she had last night. On the other hand, I wasn’t sure she hadn’t already gotten me in some way. My hair had definitively changed, even if Isobella was pretending not to notice. And besides my hair, something was off. I wasn’t just sore...my body felt taut, like a guitar string pulled just a little too tight. Something just didn’t feel right.

I was still in control, of course. I was the aggressor, and Isobella was being far too defensive to be effective. She really should have made her move when I was unable to effectively stop her. Granted, it wasn’t an ideal opportunity for her, all things considered, but still, she wasn’t likely to have a better chance than she had then.

Still, those minor changes to my hair were a bit worrying, because it meant something had gotten through. My best bet was to be proactive and make another attempt immediately, just in case. It would also keep her off-balance and likely deter any offensive she might be considering.

Fortunately, I had already prepped something. All I had to do was set it in motion.

Isobella glanced up from her laptop. “More coffee, love?”

“Sure,” I said. Then I narrowed my eyes. Isobella had been a tad too casual. “On second thought,” I said, “nevermind. I think I’ll get a cold drink from the refrigerator.”

Isobella laughed. “Why, Catherine, don’t you trust meeeee?”

I laughed. “With my life, sweetheart, yes,” I said, “but with my coffee? Not so much.”

“My goodness, love,” said Isobella, pouring herself another cup of coffee, “you’re learning.”

Isobella lifted her coffee cup with one hand. With the other hand, she displayed a small bottle filled with a blue liquid.

“This,” she said, “would have flavored your coffee wonderfully.”

I smiled. I had out-maneuvered her, but I needed to press my advantage.

“Put the bottle on the counter,” I said, “and let’s go back to the bedroom. I like what I see, and I want you naked.”

“Are you sure you want to do this?” she asked. “After all, last time we did it, you ended up...well, I’m sure you remember.”

Hell, no, I didn’t want to do it again. I was sore all over from the gazillion orgasms I had had last night. But this was the best chance I was going to get in the immediate future. Isobella’s effort was the blue potion she had shown me, and by having her leave it on the counter, I knew she didn’t have anything else ready for me, whereas I had already set up something in the bedroom.

Showing her hand to gain a slight mental advantage had been a mistake. She’d be paying for it for nine months.

“Of course I want to do it, baby,” I said, trying not to wince. “The Advil I took is kicking in. I’ll be fine.”

I didn’t think I sounded convincing, but at least it got her moving toward the bedroom.

* * *

Isobella shrugged off her robe and slid under the covers. I did the same.

Trying to cast a spell on her pussy had been a bad idea and I had no intention of going that route again. Since magic was out, the only way to get some swimmers inside her was the direct approach. Specifically, physical contact.

Granted, it was similar to my original plan that had ended with me cumming my brains out, but this time I was going for quantity over quality.

In other words, I was simply going to drop a handful of sperm onto her pussy.

Crude? Yep. But it would knock her up and settle the question of who was in charge once and for all.

Hidden under the bed was a glass with twenty full sperm samples from one of the most brilliant professors at Chrystal Heights University. He was a compulsive donator, so taking the large number of samples hadn’t been a problem. There was over four inches of semen in the tall, thin glass, perfectly preserved via a spell. It was even hot, as if it had just been ejaculated.

My plan was simple. I was just going to pour the glass on her pussy. No magic, no spells, just the direct approach. The tiniest drop would do it.

We kissed for several minutes. I didn’t make a move yet, as I was only going to get one shot and I wanted to make sure it was an open couldn’t-miss opportunity. Finally, however, I shifted to the edge of the bed, close enough to grab the glass without being seen.

Or maybe not.

“What are you up to, love?” asked Isobella.

Her knees were together, but her pussy was exposed. I clenched the glass in my hand and sat up. It was now or never.

“Just this, baby,” I said, swinging the glass around.

Isobella snapped out a word and my hand locked in place, the glass still upright.

“Oh, you are cheeky,” said Isobella, obviously straining to hold my hand in place with her spell. “Cheeky cheeky.”

I struggled to move the glass towards her pussy, but got nowhere. Then my heart pounded as I realized something else.

The glass was tilting toward my own pussy.

Tension built as our battle of wills increased in intensity. I could feel my hand trying to empty the glass on my naked sex, but the combination of the protective spells layered on my pussy and my physical resistance prevented the potential insemination.

I smiled. “I don’t think you’re going to get anywhere, baby,” I said, pouring every bit of my resistance into keeping that glass from tipping. “This sperm is not going anywhere near this va-jay-jay.”

“I know, love,” said Isobella, “but I needed to make sure you put everything you had into defending yourself down there. It leaves you vulnerable in other places.”

Isobella flipped her hand and made a thrusting motion.

It took me a moment to understand what she was doing, and by then, it was too late. The pressures on my hand suddenly shifted and a moment later, I was drinking the entire glass of sperm faster than I could compose myself to stop.

The hot contents slid down my throat and filled my belly. I finally managed to pull the glass from my lips, but it was too late...the glass was completely empty.

Isobella laughed. “My goodness, love,” she said. “That was a lot of sperm you just swallowed.”

I sat back, eyes wide, and put a hand on my belly. I had just swallowed over twenty loads in the space of seconds.

“I have to tell you, love,” said Isobella, “that although I didn’t get you inseminated, the look on your face right now is priceless. I also have to say that you deserved that just for calling it a va-jay-jay.”

My head was spinning. “I...I...I just...do you realize how much I just—”

My sentence disappeared into a sudden, unexpected belch. I clapped a hand to my mouth, and Isobella laughed again.

“Oh, my!” she said. “You are adorable right now! And very, very green. You’d better lay down, love. You’re going to have a busy evening of it once all that semen hits your digestive tract.”

I could only nod. I slid under the covers and pulled the sheet over my head so she couldn’t see my burning cheeks.

“I’ll take care of the club tonight, love,” said Isobella. “You stay here and take care of that belly, ‘kay?”

I tried to answer her, but all that came out was another horrible belch.

* * *

It was not a good night.

I stayed in bed long after Isobella left for the club. My belly gurgled non-stop as the gooey mass moved through me. I moaned and kept my breathing shallow to prevent a gastric mess.

I was not happy. All right, so I was feeling sorry for myself, but I was a lesbian who had just swallowed over twenty loads of sperm, dammit.

And then I found out what Isobella meant about what it would do to my digestive system.

After a horribly embarrassing hour of running back and forth, I was not in a good mood. I stomped to the living room and plopped on the couch so hard, my boobs jiggled for several seconds before settling into place.

Then I blinked. Jiggling?

How the hell was I jiggling? I didn’t have enough to jiggle. Granted, I felt swollen all over from my failed excursions over the past day, but hardly that swollen. I shouldn’t be jiggling unless my boobs had suddenly started growing or something.

And that’s when my eyes widened.

I jumped up and dashed to the bathroom. I looked at myself carefully in the mirror, and now I could see it clearly.

I was changing.

My boobs were swelling, but there were other, less obvious changes as well. My dirty blonde hair was fading into a more golden blonde and gaining length and volume.

My heart pounded. I realized there was a pattern. And now that I knew what to look for, the changes were obvious.

It wasn’t just my boobs and hair. My waist was cinching in slightly, but my hips had widened slightly as well. My ass had swelled a bit. My facial features had softened just a touch.

I knew what she was doing. The changes were minor so far, but they would soon become dominant physical characteristics.

Isobella was turning me into a bimbo.

* * *

I still wasn’t feeling good, but I stayed up until Isobella came home.

“It won’t work,” I said. “I’ll figure out a way to stop it.”

Isobella raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow. “Stop what, Catherine?”

“Your bimbo spell,” I said. “I know what you did.”

Isobella laughed, a rich sound. “Wow, love,” she said. “You figured it out quicker than I anticipated.”

“Well, it won’t work,” I said, “so you can stop it.”

“I think it will work just fine,” said Isobella, “and we did agree that anything goes.”

“Fine,” I said, through clenched teeth, “but you fix it the moment I knock you up. Agreed?”

“Agreed, love,” said Isobella, “but not before.”

“All right, then,” I said. Then I turned and headed for the bedroom. I knew my widening hips were swaying as I walked away and I could feel Isobella’s eyes on my backside.

Dammit. This was getting seriously embarrassing.

* * *

I fell into a deep sleep and didn’t wake until nearly noon. Isobella was gone when I awoke.

I sat up, still groggy. Then my eyes popped opened and I gasped.

Two solid nubs protruded through my pajama top. My rock-hard nipples were embarrassingly sensitive this morning, but they also served to accentuate the fact that my breasts were nearly a cup size larger than they had been yesterday morning. I cupped them in my hands to assess their size, but shuddered as I realized just how sensitive they were. My boobs were going to be a distraction today.

I was still trying to get used to the fact that I really did have swelling boobs when I realized my hair was covering my shoulders. In fact, my hair was past my shoulders.

I ignored the twinges of panic. It would only take one little swimmer to hook up with those fertile eggs inside her and this little bimbo issue would be a thing of the past. I’d be running the club and Isobella would be cooking, cleaning and having babies like a good little wifey.

Still, I needed a good plan. I had been much more aggressive than Isobella so far, but she was still somehow ahead on points right now. Spells cast on her pussy were out, and direct contact was going to be difficult at best. She likely wasn’t going to let anything from me touch her there.

Then I stopped as a realization dawned. She might not let anything from me touch here there...but she was touched there all day by something else.

Her panties.

Yes, her panties. That was the way to go.

* * *

I slid open Isobella’s underwear drawer and took out the top three pair. Isobella normally wore her panties in order, but I wasn’t taking any chances. I was spiking the top three pairs with semen.

On the dresser sat a small cup full of semen. For a lesbian, I had handled an awful lot of sperm over the last couple day.

I held up the first pair, which were dark blue. Perfect, as the color would hide what I was going to do.

I was wearing gloves, just to be safe. I didn’t want sperm on my fingers. I was embarrassed enough as it was without inadvertently inseminating myself.

It was time. I turned the first pair of her panties inside out. Then I poured a generous amount of semen onto the pertinent area.

Wearing these panties even for a second or two would be enough to swell Isobella’s belly. Perfect.

I set that pair down and picked up the dark green pair. Just as I got ready to spike that pair as well, something caught my eye.

The first pair of panties were starting to smoke.

Okay, not smoke, but mist. Still, that was weird. Unless...

I turned to dash from the room, but it was too late. My arms flew straight up and locked as my top and bra popped straight up and off my body, landing on the other side of the room. I was flipped off my feet then and thrust backward, and a moment later found myself flat on my back on the bed. My shoes and socks popped off my feet, followed by my sweat pants and panties.

I had triggered a magical booby-trap. It had stripped me naked in seconds flat, and apparently it wasn’t done yet.

The mirrored closet door slid open and a hot pink flippy mini-skirt whirled toward me, followed by an equally hot pink stretchy tube top. My elbows bent slightly as my wrists snapped together over my head, and my knees and ankles locked together as well. The pink clothing circled above my bare belly several times, then split into two separate directions. The tube-top slid down my arms and circulated over my head, finally settling around my boobs. The mini-skirt slid over my ankles, then up my calves and over my thighs, finally locking itself around my waist. My rounded bottom then dropped onto the bed.

Everything was still for a moment...but only for a moment. Then the cosmetics launched themselves at me.

Embarrassingly hot neon pink nail polish began layering itself onto my fingernails and toenails. Various lipstick pencils and brushes stroked themselves over my lips, but I dared not move, as brushes and pencils were working my eyes as well. My wrists and ankles remained locked in place, and I could only wait helplessly as the enchanted cosmetics did their work.

Several minutes later, the various pencils, brushes and bottles levitated back to the dresser, but I was still unable to move. The accessories were now making their move.

Pink hair bands separated my hair into pigtails jutting from the top of my head. Large hoop earrings locked themselves in my earlobes, while jingling bangle bracelets gathered on my wrists. An anklet looped itself around my left ankle and locked.

Accessories in place, glitter gel then spread itself over my cheeks. And then, the final step in the process: two hot pink high heels shot from the closet and strapped themselves to my feet.

Everything was still then. I could move again.

I got to my feet slowly. Still breathless, I walked to the mirror and studied my image. I was really in trouble.

I looked like a silly teenybopper from head to toe…a nearly naked one, at that. Hot pink tube top, pleated miniskirt and high heels…that was it. Hair separated into dangling pigtails, hot pink fingernails and toenails, princess accessories, even face glitter.

Isobella had managed to lock me in a bimbo outfit.

* * *

My heels clicked the floor as I stormed into the bar.

Employees stared incredulously, and I couldn’t blame them. My boobs had grown into incredible fullness and were threatening to overwhelm the filled-to-capacity tube top. The contents of said tube top jiggled with every step. My hair was longer and blonder than ever, flowing over my shoulders and down my back to my waist. My pleated, hot pink miniskirt bounced and twitched with every sway of my rounded hips.

I found her in the kitchen. Isobella looked me over from head to toe, then smiled and said, “I think somebody has been playing in my underwear drawer.”

I crossed my arms under my heavy boobs. It was impossible to concentrate with these things.

“I can’t take this outfit off,” I said, through clenched teeth. “Not even the shoes.”

“I know, love,” said Isobella. “But don’t worry…it suits you completely.”

I stamped my foot, my pink high heel clacking on the tile floor.

“But, Isobellaaaaaaa...!” I said, my lower lip popping out in a pout. “I can’t even, like, wear panties!”

Isobella laughed. I opened my mouth to plead more, but suddenly cut myself short as I realized something.

My voice was a half-octave higher. And worse, my speech patterns were becoming more…bimboesque.

“Oh!” I said. “You are sooooo not gonna win! I mean it!”

That’s when one of the waitresses snickered.

I spun and spotted the transgressor. I walked over to her.

As an alternative bar, we have a slightly different relationship with our hired staff. Our employees come in knowledgeable of the different nature of their employers. Specifically, that Isobella and I are both Dommes and that we are both practicing witches as well. They may or may not believe the witchcraft part, but of the Dommey part, they are well aware.

“Like, amused, Nancy?” I said.

“No,” said Nancy. “I just—”

I held up my hand, palm out. “Not interested,” I said. “I, like, look and sound totally silly. I get it, ‘kay? Totally.”

Nancy smiled and nodded, looking relieved.

I giggled and leaned forward. “But, guess what?” I said. “If you think,"— my voice, though still high-pitched and giggly, rose in force and volume- “that for one minute, I’m going to tolerate any kind of disrespect from you or anybody else who is not named Isobella, you have got another think coming, and it’s only going to be one think, because any thinks you have after that will be too late. Like, understood?”

Nancy blinked. “Oh!” she said. “No, ma’am! I mean, yes, ma’am!”

“Good,” I said. “Now, to help you remember…”

I reached out and took her hand, then began a chant.

Nancy’s eyes grew wide. As I chanted, she began wriggling, but she was unable to release my hand.

After a few moments, I finished the enchantment. I released her hand and took a step back.

Poking through the top of Nancy’s short black pixie-cut hair were two distinct cat ears. Twitching whiskers protruded from her cheeks and a long, black feline tale jutted out from just above her rounded bottom, reaching the floor.

“All right,” I said. “See me in a couple days and we’ll, like, talk about this then, ‘kay?”

Nancy stumbled back and nodded, eyes wide. She opened her mouth to say something, but all that came out was, “Meow.” Then she turned and scurried away, obviously trying to adjust to her temporary tail.

“Now,” I said, looking around the kitchen, “is there anybody else here who thinks a girl can’t kick ass just because she got a little bimboed?”

My high-pitched voice may have sounded silly, but nobody was taking any more chances. Suddenly everybody was scrambling to find something to do.

Isobella watched the staff scramble with wry amusement. “You make an adorably dommey bimbo, love,” she said. “I must admit, it’s going to be fun watching her try to take drink orders tonight.”

“Oh, shush,” I said, giggling. Then I clamped my hand across my mouth.

* * *

All right, it wasn’t difficult to see that I was in trouble.

The changes Isobella had affected me with ran deeper than the ridiculously exotic curves I was displaying involuntarily. My various erogenous zone were becoming far more sensitive than I had ever experienced before, and even some areas I hadn’t considered erogenous had become arousingly sensitive. I mean, my clit and nipples being sensitive was no surprise, but my lips and anus becoming erotic little hotbeds of pleasure was unexpected. My concentration was shot. Just walking from room to room left me with a dazed, distracted look on my face.

I had to do something. It was going to be very difficult to out-think Isobella in this condition. My clit was just-

My clit. That actually gave me an idea.

I grabbed two more sperm samples and went back to our bedroom. I pulled out our box of sex toys.

I pulled out her vibe and smiled. Because we had equal access to the box, I doubted she had considered the fact that I could sabotage her favorite toy, since it would seem to put myself at risk. However, right now we were unlikely to use toys on each other. I could see there being a good chance, though, of Isobella having a private session. This was perfect.

I held up the vibe with one hand. I held the sperm samples in my other hand. I covered the vibe with the sperm and began chanting.

The vibrator popped out of my hand like a wet watermelon seed. I blinked, surprised. Then I suddenly knew what was happening, but it was too late. I felt myself spun around, then bent over the bed.

I wriggled, my boobs pressed against the mattress, but it didn’t matter. I had sprung another booby-trap. I was bent over the bed, my ass high, unable to move. All I could do was wait to see what happened. And a moment later, I found out.

I was trying to look over my shoulder to see what was happening; I should have been looking in front of me. Isobella’s sperm-covered vibrator slid between my lips and filled my mouth. I felt my lips instinctively wrap around the shaft and I grabbed at the jutting end desperately, but it was too late. The vibe was locked inside my mouth.

My sensitive lips pressed against the surface of the spermy vibe were creating sensations that were making it difficult to concentrate. But my eyes widened when I felt sudden pressure against my tight rear opening.

I squealed and clenched, trying to keep the invader from penetrating me back there. I instinctively knew it was our long, thick dildo, and there was no way I was letting it inside me. Unfortunately, it was somehow lubed up, and I could feel it slowly slipping through my tight back door.

The dildo slid into my ass slowly, inch by inch, until I was completely full back there. And not only was I full back there, but the crazy hot sensations coming from my tight rear opening clenching that shaft were turning me into a wriggling, writhing wet mess.

And then the dildo proceeded to pump my ass silly.

The dildo slid back and forth inside my ass without pause. I wriggled, writhed and squealed, but I was helplessly bent over the bed and couldn’t do anything to stop it. The heated sensations spread through my body, taking over. And when I thought I couldn’t get any hotter, the vibe start pumping my mouth.

It wouldn’t stop. Those two sex toys worked me into a helpless puddle of goo. Wave after wave of pure pleasure washed over me, and I couldn’t stop orgasming. I lost track of all time, and eventually a curtain of darkness rang down and I slid under gratefully.

* * *

I awoke a couple hours later. I was stiff and sore.

The vibe was no longer in my mouth, although I could still taste sperm. The dildo was no longer parked inside my ass, either; however, it didn’t take me long to realize that a butt plug had taken its place.

Nor did it take me long to realize that the butt plug was locked in place.

I fumed, embarrassed. I knew the spell well enough to know the plug would come out when I absolutely needed it to, but only then. I also knew that it would re-insert itself the moment the need passed. Unfortunately, I didn’t know the counterspell.

I was in trouble. I had the body of a bimbo and I was locked in a teenybopper outfit. Every move I made created waves of heated pleasure and the butt plug locked in my ass left me dazed from the crazy hot erotic sensations. I couldn’t think straight. I was slowly and methodically being turned into a horny little bimbo…a bimbo who would have a belly really soon if I didn’t come up with a plan.

I sighed. I had one more idea. It was a long shot, as Isobella probably wouldn’t go for it, but if she did, it was possible I could salvage the situation.

* * *

“All right, Isobella,” I said. “No more dancing around. Let’s just do this, like, head to head.”

Dammit. My lips were so thick now, I was lisping uncontrollably.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

I set a bottle of tequila on the table.

“A drinking contest. You and me,” I said. “Whoever passes out is the loser. And I think it’s safe to say the loser is going to wake up preggie.”

Isobella thought about it. Finally, she laughed. “All right, love,” she said. “You’re on. And remember...when you lose, no complaining.”

I grinned. “Who, me?” I said. “Perish the thought.”

I was surprised she had agreed, but she thought she had more resistance to alcohol than I did. She was wrong, of course...I could drink her under the table.

I slammed down two shot glasses. “Ready?”

Isobella smiled. “Do it, love!”

I poured the shots. We drank them simultaneously.

“Again!” I said. I had to get enough in her so that when she felt herself going, it would be too late to stop.

We pounded back six shots, one after the other.

“Oh, my,” said Isobella, swaying slightly. “It’s been a long time since we’ve drank like this.”

I giggled. “I know,” I said, hiccupping. “It’s been wike...wike...umm...wike somethin’...ummm...wight...?”

I was having some slight problems. For one, the shot glass against my lips was making me squirmy as hell. For another, the world seemed to be spinning an awful lot.

“You know...you know...you are soooooo hot, Isobella,” I said. I hiccupped. “You totally are. Totally.”

“Oh, dear,” said Isobella. “Are you all right, love?”

“Sure,” I said. “Ummm...kinda...”

Isobella laughed. “Oh, my poor little bimbo girl,” she said. “You thought your alcohol resistance was normal, didn’t you?” Isobella laughed. “You, love, now have a bimbo’s resistance to alcohol...which is pretty much none.”

I stood up, swaying. “That’s...that’s totally not twue,” I said.“I’m, like...totally not a bimbo...”

Isobella took my arm. “You’re absolutely right, love,” she said. “Let’s go to the bedroom now so you can show me how clever you are.”

* * *

I woke the next morning with a screaming headache.

I went straight to the bathroom and took aspirin. I really wasn’t feeling good.

It finally dawned on me that I was naked. That wasn’t that unusual, since I could only be either naked or dressed in that silly bimbo outfit Isobella kept me dressed in. But I didn’t actually remember getting undressed.

Then I suddenly realized something. Isobella was asleep. Probably deep asleep, considering how much we had drank. In fact...

In fact, this was a perfect time to strike.

I retrieved several of my sperm samples and brought them to the bedroom. Some of the finest physical and mental specimens Chrystal Heights had to offer was represented in these samples.

I walked to the bed and carefully pulled the covers off Isobella’s naked body. I didn’t waste time. I spread the samples on my fingers and then smeared them liberally inside Isobella’s pussy.

Score! Nothing leaped out at me. Nothing tried to bend me over the bed. Score!

Isobella sat up, blinking sleepily.

“Good morning!” I said, giggling. I slipped into my skirt and tube top. I wouldn’t be wearing them much longer. “Guess what, baby? You just got inseminated!”

“Huh?” she said. “You mean...?”

“Yeppers!” I said, wiggling my fingers. I reached over and patted her belly. “You’re gonna be carrying a passenger for the next nine months, like it or not!”

Isobella fell back on her pillow, eyes closed. “You’ve got to be kidding me, love.”

“Nope,” I said. “I’m not. And the first thing you’re going to do is get this outfit off me. And then the body!”

“Fine,” said Isobella. “Put the whole outfit on first, though. That’s the only way I can counter the spell.”

I giggled. “No problem,” I said, grabbing the hot pink high heels.

“Well?” she said.

“Hang on,” I said, trying to get my foot in the shoe and failing. “I’m, like, having trouble.”

“Really?”

“Grrrrrrr,” I said. “Yes, weally!”

“Wow,” said Isobella. “I wonder why that is?”

“I’ve got no idea!” I said. “I just can’t, like, get these stupid shoes on!”

“That’s strange, isn’t it, love?” said Isobella. “It’s like you’re supposed to be barefoot or something.”

“Very funny,” I said. “Why would I—”

Then my eyes widened as the significance of Isobella’s words struck home.

Isobella smiled then.

“In fact, love,” she said, “I don’t think shoes are anything you have to worry about for a while. For nine months or so.”

I blinked, stunned.

Isobella circled her arms around me from behind and kissed my cheek. “Don’t worry, my little barefoot and pregnant bimbo,” she said. “You’ll do fine.”

* * *

7 ½ months later

“Hi, Miss Catherine!” said Cici, the bar deejay. “Wow, we haven’t seen you in months!”

I giggled as I waddled into the bar, my belly entering long before I did. My bare feet felt comfortable on the cool tile.

“Hi, Cici,” I said. “How are things tonight?”

“They’re good, Miss Catherine,” said the deejay. “Or is it Mrs. Catherine? I mean, you guys being married and all now.”

I giggled. “Miss Catherine is fine, Cici,” I said.

Isobella’s voice sounded then. “Oh, hello, love,” she said. “What brings you out here?”

“Hi, baby!” I said. I held out a tupperware plate. “Here...you forgot your dinner! You gotta keep your energy up, you know!”

“Thank you, love,” she said, giving me a kiss.

“Totally welcome,” I said.

“Now get home,” she said, patting my rounded bottom. “I want you and that adorable belly well rested.”

I blushed as she pointed to my rounded belly. There was no covering up the fact that I was a very pregnant bimbo.

“’Kay,” I said. “I’m going!”

* * *

“Congratulations, Catherine and Isobella,” said the doctor. “It’s a boy!”

I cuddled the wet mess against me. Isobella kept her arms around us both.

“It was an unusual birth,” said the doctor. “I can’t recall anyone having orgasms while giving birth before.”

I blushed from head to toe. Isobella just laughed and said, “We’re an unusual family, doctor.”

The nurse came back into the room then. She was holding something.

“Here you go, ma’am,” she said.

“Thanks,” I said. “Just put them on me.”

“There you go, ma’am,” said the nurse. “I must admit, I think this is the first time a newly-delivered mother made her first request a pair of bedroom slippers.”

I smirked at Isobella.

Isobella laughed. “Well played, love,” she said.

* * *

Three months later

I woke up slowly.

“Oh, gawd,” I said. “I think I, wike, overdid the wine last night.”

Isobella laughed. “You did, my little bimbo,” she said. “I had to pour you into bed.”

“Wow,” I said. “I weally don’t feel so good. Thank goodness the baby is sleeping.”

“I fed her a little while ago, love,” said Isobella. “She’ll sleep for a little while.”

“Oh, good,” I said. “Like, thanks!”

“No problem, love.”

“Hmmm,” I said. “That’s stwange.”

“What is, love?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I can’t get my slippers on for some reason.”

THE END