#pervertpentet bimbobailee

[vee-angel]

Bimbo Bailee (Chapter 1, part 2 repost)

(Part of the Pervert Pentet Series. Content warning: subtext of tragic loss)

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“Hmmmm.” she made the noise as she struggled to figure out the puzzle before her. Her eyes narrowed to closely examine the sidewalk below. She’d happened to be walking past a nightclub with a rather substantial queue of people spilling down the street. It was evening now, so she’d switched from her tank-top and micro mini-skirt into a pink tube top and ultra-mini skirt (it was really more like a belt made of fabric than a skirt); she used the public changing room a few blocks from her house, the little one with the glass walls and the old-time telephone on one side. At least this one guy she knew told her that it was a changing room. She kinda remembered something about how Superman changed clothes in a thing like that so it made sense to her. The guy said how the glass seemed clear from the inside, but that in reality nobody could see in because it was two way glass or something? Bailee thought it was really complicated, but he obviously knew better than her. She always liked to get totally naked when she was inside there and act really slutty since nobody could see her. She’d shake her tits or spread her ass, or sometimes even masturbate. There weren’t that many of the telephone changing booth thingies around anymore, so she figured that this one was kind of a tourist attraction, what with the big crowd and all the people taking pictures when she was inside. By a big coincidence, she always managed to get to it right before the crowd formed! How lucky is that!

“Hmmmmmmmm.” She bent down further to try to examine the sidewalk. One of the really nice men in the line had told her she’d dropped something and she should bend down to pick it up. After a few seconds of looking, she’d told him that she didn’t see anything, but he assured her that something was down there and that she should keep looking. She was sooo lucky that men were so patient with her. She wasn’t that bright, and she had no idea what she’d do without nice men helping her the way they always did. Like that doctor guy who told her that it’s better for her body that if, when she bends over, she plants her feet wide and bends at the waist with her back straight.

“Hmmmmmmmmmm.” She kept repeating the noise while she kept trying, like, really super hard to figure out what she dropped and why she couldn’t see it. It was starting to make her head hurt, and she’d been bending over to look for it for probably a good two minutes now. Finally she stood up and apologized to the nice man who told her she dropped something. That’s when she noticed that there were several people behind her who all seemed to have their camera-phones out and pointed at her.

She hopped in excitement; the huge, firm, silicone tits almost whacking her in the chin as she did so. “Oh my gosh! You wanna take my picture? Yay! Thanks, everybody!” She quickly flipped the golden waves of hair that cascaded over her shoulders and struck a pose. She may not have been so good with thinky stuff, but this? This she was good at! It was the number one most important thing for a girl to know how to be pretty and sexy, after all! She stuck one fingertip in her pouting mouth and raised one leg in a coy pose while making sure to stick out her tits and ass. After a few seconds she switched to a more confident pose; hands on her hips with her shoulders back, tits thrust forward obscenely.

“Oh wait!” she quickly pinched and twisted her nipples through the semi-sheer pink tank top to make sure they stood out more through her clothes. Guys like it when girls do that, she’d learned. She went back to the boobie pose with nipples sufficiently erect. She switched to a sensual pose where she closed her eyes and raked her hands through her hair. But she couldn’t help but think that she could get some better pictures for the nice men if she had an object to play with, like a lollipop or… oh! Or another girl!

She quickly scanned the line of people before her glassy eyes set their sights on a cute Persian-looking girl with 32D tits. Bailee giggled for a moment; she may be have been dumb, but at least she wasn’t dumb enough to have small tits!

“Hey, 32D! Come over here and make out with me for some pictures!”

The girl glanced down at her chest and then back at Bailee. “Wait, how did you know?”

Bailee just giggled in response. Geez this little slut was stupid. How would she ever get guys if she didn’t know how to rank and compare girls. Men do it all the time automatically, so Bailee made sure she was constantly aware of how she ranked compared to all the girls around her. She was currently number one, and she was giving the 32D girl a chance to be second, only the little ditz was just standing there.

Bailee sighed, she was a 32J, so she was obviously the girl in-charge around here. She grabbed the tan little dummy and shoved her tongue down her throat. She seemed surprised but didn’t seem to object. 32D actually started getting into it once Bailee took one of her hands and stuffed it under the pink tank top so that she could have a chance to see what real boobs feel like.

Bailee wasn’t into girls that much, but what she was into was doing anything to get attention from men. They really liked it when girls made out with each other or licked each others kitties. In fact, Bailee was pretty sure that the whole “lesbian” thing was just a trick to get boys to pay attention to them.

The little Persian girl was starting to make these sensual little moaning noises; at least she wasn’t a prude. Bailee was glad, she hated prudes! She remembered that guys really like pictures of girls licking each others pussies or buttholes, and it was her job to make guys happy. So she squatted down, making sure to spread her legs so everyone could see how good a job she did shaving while she pulled up 32D’s skirt, but she gasped when she saw what was underneath.

“Oh my god! You’re wearing panties?!? Gross!” Bailee always thought panties were really dumb. What’s the point of even wearing a dress if you’re just going to cover up your holes anyway! And besides, everybody knows that pussies need to be uncovered to be healthy. That’s why it’s always best for girls to wear the shortest skirt possible and always sit with their legs open.

After she got over the initial aversion, she started feeling sorry for the girl. Obviously all girls want guys to put their dicks inside them, but the flat-chested little ditz was too dumb to know how. Bailee decided to help by yanking the girl’s panties to her ankles. She made a little noise of objection, but didn’t end up resisting. She just got this really embarrassed smile while everybody took pictures of her little mocha-colored pussy. Bailee had her step out of the underwear, which was a pain. Imagine if this girl had to do all that while a nice man was waiting to put his cock in her butt, she thought.  

She held the garment at arms length as if she was holding a dirty rag and walked over to drop it in the gutter. When she turned back, 32D was covering her face in this giggley embarrassed way. That was good! Boys seem to get super turned on when girls are embarrassed. Bailee went back over and squatted down to stick out her tongue as far as she could and licked at the girl’s bare pussy gingerly. The light-brown girl had her pubic hair shaved into a little heart, which Bailee liked. At least she prepared to have her kitty on display. She tried to stay facing forward so everybody could get both of their naked crotches in the picture. Bailee really only flicked the girls clit with the tip of her tongue. It was more important that all the nice men get sexy pictures than it was to actually pleasure the panty-wearing dummy.

32D seemed to get relaxed a bit after that. She even took the lead and posed for pictures with Bailee’s giant boobs; pulling her little tube-top up, holding the firm-pink orbs with her little hands, even pinching and pulling her nipples. She had to admit, as dumb as this girl might be when it comes to getting cock, she could have been a lot worse!

After a few minutes, 32D introduced Bailee to her boyfriend. He looked Persian, too. Also, he dressed like he had a lot of money. He offered to pay Bailee’s way into the club so that she could hang out and have fun with them all night.

He was even nice enough to buy her a drink and he put this special vitamin in it that he said would keep Bailee from getting a hangover the next day. She must have drank a lot, because she didn’t really remember much of what happened after that. Later that night, she had a vague sense of being in a hotel room while a bunch of really awesome guys took turns having sex with her. That made her happy. She also thought she heard the nice Persian man talking with one of the men about money. Geez! What a workaholic! Who talks business while a girl is trying to get lucky!

***

Bailee woke up the next day to find herself laying in a bed in a hospital room. This cute young Indian doctor with a boyish look noticed she was awake and came over to her. He paused for a moment, seeming a bit flustered.

“Hello, Bailee. How are you feeling?” he started with this super hot English accent.

“Ummm, I dunno. I think I had, like, a super fun and good night last night. I kinda remember getting to do like, a lot of sex, and I got to give a bunch of guys blowjobs.” she paused to think for a moment, “Oh, hey! Do you want a blowjob? You’re totally, like, super cute.”

He seemed a bit flustered, “Umm, no. That’s quite all right. The police found you passed out on the couch of a hotel lobby. You… didn’t have any clothes on. They brought you here to make sure you were okay. We learned that you had a rather substantial dose of Rohypnol in your system. Do you have any reason to believe that anything happened last night that you didn’t agree to?”

Bailee shook her head, “uh uh, I think I had a really fun night.” she said before giggling. As she was answering, this hot older woman with silver hair and a lab coat came in. Bailee thought it was silly the way she was dressed. She might be middle-aged, but she still had a good body. Maybe her and Bailee could go out and pretend to be mother and daughter to pick up boys! Guys were totally into that sort of thing.

The older lady leaned over to the cute boy doctor and whispered something to him. She said something about Bailee’s “fee-an-say,” which Bailee figured was a fancy doctor word she didn’t know. And she said something about how Bailee hasn’t been the same since.

Suddenly it occurred to Bailee that hospitals were really sad and totally not fun and that she didn’t want to be in one anymore. So she put on her heels and told them that she was going to go home now. They said some doctory stuff and made her write her name on this really boring paper, but at least they let her keep the cute gown that let everybody see her butt. She could totally use that for costume parties or sexy roleplay. Maybe she could even go out and tell everybody that she has a disease where she needs cum to survive. Yeah! That’d be perfect! After all, guys could be super gullible when it comes to sex. They’ll fall for anything when they’re horny! She was sure glad that she wasn’t like that.

[vee-angel]

Bimbo Bailee (Chapter 1, part 1 repost)

Bimbo Bailee (Chapter 1, part 1)

(Part of the Pervert Pentet Series. Content warning: subtext of tragic loss)

         ——————————————————–

She woke up in a daze. How long had it been since she’d been in control of her own mind? The trance was lasting longer each time, how long until it’d be permanent? The thought of being… her… forever made her heart race with fear. But it was also something she found incredibly erotic.

She never would have started dating Mark if the thought of mind control wasn’t so incredibly arousing to her. It started with minor things, she’d find she wasn’t wearing underwear in the middle of the day despite clearly remembering putting it on in the morning. She wasn’t sure if the memory was false or if she’d removed them at some point in the day while in a hypnotic trance. She kept pushing for more, the idea of giving up control over her most valuable asset, her conscious mind, thrilled her more than anything else could.

In her youth, her parents had always pushed her to work hard and be smart, but it was never enough. Even when she graduated high school as Valedictorian at age 17, all they wanted to know was what she planned for college. At age 24, she graduated with a doctorate in neurology. She began dating Mark after she’d interviewed while she’d been completing her thesis on the effect of external stimuli on the long-term functioning of the mind. He was a hypnotist who claimed that with enough time, he could turn a person into someone completely different. They often debated, with her claiming that what he said was impossible. No matter what, she argued, there would always be certain core personality traits that would be innate, either because they developed in the formative years or because they were genetically determined.

She began submitting to things she thought of as “experiments” with him. The first few times she felt the influence of his “mind control” she was fascinated. To be able to experience something like this first hand! It was invigorating as a researcher. At least that’s what she told herself in the beginning.

Over time, she became more and more addicted to the idea of leaving her mind in the hands of another. He went from being her boyfriend to becoming her Master. And their “experiments” had taken on a more intense and erotic tone as well. He created this other persona that he could snap her into any time he wished. It was so liberating, the other her was so… happy, carefree. It was as if she could have a respite from the cacophony of thoughts and considerations she grew up being taught was expected of her as an intellectual. She was never happier than when she was with him; and despite knowing every neurochemical reaction that came with being in love, a part of her felt like she’d found her soul-mate.

Eventually they went on a trip together to an isolated cabin, someplace they could do some of the more daring things they’d been wanting to try without fear of her being embarrassed by interactions with other people.

She remembered they did something… daring. Foolish, even. She couldn’t remember exactly what it was at the moment. She flexed a cognitive power that felt like it hadn’t been flexed in quite some time and tried to remember. There was a distinct recollection that her Master was the only one that could release her from the trance once it was activated. But there was something else… something even more reckless she’d asked him to do, to program into her ever-more-pliable mind. What was it?

Her heart sank as she remembered how the trip ended. Her Master had been taking a walk outside the cabin and had slipped on some of the autumn leaves, breaking his skull on a sharp branch jutting from a tree-trunk. She reasoned that the trauma must be why she was having trouble remembering. A sickening hollowness began to form within her the more she thought about him. Her mind instinctively reviewed all the neurological changes that could occur in response to the loss of a loved one. Yet the memory felt distant, like enough time had passed that she shouldn’t feel as bad as she did. She just couldn’t remember what had happened in the interim.

She looked around the room and found that it seemed foreign to her. The layout was definitely her and her late Master’s house, but the decor looked more like it had been done by a middle-school cheerleader, and a slutty one at that, judging by the small, brightly colored clothing strewn haphazardly about.

She took a step out of bed and was immediately floored by a lightning bolt of pain that shot up her Achilles tendon the moment she tried to stand up.

“AAAHH!!!” The pain turned to a slow throb after several seconds, and she tried to examine her feet. She determined that her range of plantar flexion, pointing her toes, was a bit greater than it had been before. But dorsiflexion was severely limited, she couldn’t bring her foot flat enough to take a step. It was as if her Achilles tendon had shortened somehow, as if she’d been wearing high-heels every waking moment for… months? Longer? She couldn’t be sure.

She noticed a pair of hot-pink heels near where she fell and naturally assumed that they were there for the purpose of allowing her to walk. She strapped herself into them and climbed to her feet. The throbbing in her heel had mostly diminished, and she found herself to have an inexplicable ease when she tried to ambulate in the four-inch heels. She rushed to the bathroom mirror; she had to see herself, as much as the thought terrified her.

When she saw her reflection, it took her a moment to believe that she wasn’t looking at an obscene poster of some comic-book bimbo that had been rendered to look realistic.

Her short brown hair had been dyed blonde, and tied up in loose pigtails that hung from the top of her head down her back. By her estimation, her hair terminated just above the sacroiliac joint just superior of her tailbone. She frantically brushed her fingers through the long, platinum locks. Surely these are hair extensions. She couldn’t possibly have lost that much time in her trance-state. This was over a year of growth. Way over.

And her breasts! They didn’t even really look like hers anymore. She’d gotten implants soon after she began dating her Master, as he had a thing for the bimbo look. She figured she could go up to just barely a DD and still seem like a respected professional so long as she didn’t dress to show them off. But it looked like they’d been enlarged at least twice since then. She couldn’t even guess at their current size

32J.

It had just popped into her head, but deep down there was a sense that it was a point of pride for her. The other her. Her lips appeared inflated as well, to a size that would be considered a good bit more than just pillowy.

After the shock wore off, she had to admit, she liked the way she looked. Mark would have loved to see her looking like this. It seemed she’d overcome her habit of stress-eating, and found the time to go to the gym. At least based on the fit, lightly tanned body that appeared to serve mostly as a transportation system for her firm, basketball sized tits.

She took a few deep breaths, trying to determine if this was all a dream or some kind of delusion. She’d tranced out before since her Master’s death, but never for more than a few days. And for the life of her, she couldn’t recall what triggered it. Needless to say, she’d never stayed in her trance state for this long.

Another memory suddenly popped into her head from that terrible night. Something she’d asked for to ensure that they keep pushing things further and further. He had programmed her so that every subsequent trance had to last longer than the previous one.

Shit!!! She thought frantically, They were supposed to be longer by hours, maybe a day or two at most! This wasn’t supposed to last for months. Not… years.

She’d only pushed him to do those things because she knew in the back of her mind that they’d be temporary. He was responsible, and if things got out of hand, he could undo the programming. Unfortunately, that was no longer an option. She still got a sense that there was something else she was missing. Something big. The trigger! That’s it, she’d just have to avoid the trigger phrase! Now what was it? She couldn’t remember! That’s okay, she would just need to avoid interacting with anything until she figured it out. Don’t go outside, don’t talk to anyone, don’t turn on the tv. You don’t want to get accidentally triggered and wake up years from now with even bigger tits.

She tried to steel her resolve when she heard a sound from the other room. An electronic beep and a tinny voice beginning to talk. The answering machine!!! Her master had been her senior by a few decades, and his house still had a landline and an old-style answering machine. She rushed out frantically to try to turn it off. The person on the line explained that they were from her old college and explained that they were calling for…

That was it… The trigger! The impossibly stupid thing they had done in the cabin that night in the woods. They made the trigger phrase… her own name.

“-University and we’re looking to contact Dr. Bailee Holcum.” She tore the machine out of the wall, but it was too late, she could feel the fog setting in…

***

She looked down at the broken machine on the floor with puzzlement. “Well uhh, that’s like, what you get for saying stuff that’s, like, totally boring, Mr. Answering Machine.”

There was a phrase she noticed echoing through the cavernous space of her mind. She said it aloud to try to work out the puzzle. “Bailee… Holcum? Bailee… hole… cum? Oh!! Bailee’s holes need cum! Duh! I need to get dressed so I can go out and get laid! That’s like, totally super important. No wonder I was thinking that!”

[vee-angel]

Bimbo Bailee (Chapter 1, Part 2)

(Part of the Pervert Pentet Series. Content warning: subtext of tragic loss)

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“Hmmmm.” she made the noise as she struggled to figure out the puzzle before her. Her eyes narrowed to closely examine the sidewalk below. She’d happened to be walking past a nightclub with a rather substantial queue of people spilling down the street. It was evening now, so she’d switched from her tank-top and micro mini-skirt into a pink tube top and ultra-mini skirt (it was really more like a belt made of fabric than a skirt); she used the public changing room a few blocks from her house, the little one with the glass walls and the old-time telephone on one side. At least this one guy she knew told her that it was a changing room. She kinda remembered something about how Superman changed clothes in a thing like that so it made sense to her. The guy said how the glass seemed clear from the inside, but that in reality nobody could see in because it was two way glass or something? Bailee thought it was really complicated, but he obviously knew better than her. She always liked to get totally naked when she was inside there and act really slutty since nobody could see her. She’d shake her tits or spread her ass, or sometimes even masturbate. There weren’t that many of the telephone changing booth thingies around anymore, so she figured that this one was kind of a tourist attraction, what with the big crowd and all the people taking pictures when she was inside. By a big coincidence, she always managed to get to it right before the crowd formed! How lucky is that!

“Hmmmmmmmm.” She bent down further to try to examine the sidewalk. One of the really nice men in the line had told her she’d dropped something and she should bend down to pick it up. After a few seconds of looking, she’d told him that she didn’t see anything, but he assured her that something was down there and that she should keep looking. She was sooo lucky that men were so patient with her. She wasn’t that bright, and she had no idea what she’d do without nice men helping her the way they always did. Like that doctor guy who told her that it’s better for her body that if, when she bends over, she plants her feet wide and bends at the waist with her back straight.

“Hmmmmmmmmmm.” She kept repeating the noise while she kept trying, like, really super hard to figure out what she dropped and why she couldn’t see it. It was starting to make her head hurt, and she’d been bending over to look for it for probably a good two minutes now. Finally she stood up and apologized to the nice man who told her she dropped something. That’s when she noticed that there were several people behind her who all seemed to have their camera-phones out and pointed at her.

She hopped in excitement; the huge, firm, silicone tits almost whacking her in the chin as she did so. “Oh my gosh! You wanna take my picture? Yay! Thanks, everybody!” She quickly flipped the golden waves of hair that cascaded over her shoulders and struck a pose. She may not have been so good with thinky stuff, but this? This she was good at! It was the number one most important thing for a girl to know how to be pretty and sexy, after all! She stuck one fingertip in her pouting mouth and raised one leg in a coy pose while making sure to stick out her tits and ass. After a few seconds she switched to a more confident pose; hands on her hips with her shoulders back, tits thrust forward obscenely.

“Oh wait!” she quickly pinched and twisted her nipples through the semi-sheer pink tank top to make sure they stood out more through her clothes. Guys like it when girls do that, she’d learned. She went back to the boobie pose with nipples sufficiently erect. She switched to a sensual pose where she closed her eyes and raked her hands through her hair. But she couldn’t help but think that she could get some better pictures for the nice men if she had an object to play with, like a lollipop or… oh! Or another girl!

She quickly scanned the line of people before her glassy eyes set their sights on a cute Persian-looking girl with 32D tits. Bailee giggled for a moment; she may be have been dumb, but at least she wasn’t dumb enough to have small tits!

“Hey, 32D! Come over here and make out with me for some pictures!”

The girl glanced down at her chest and then back at Bailee. “Wait, how did you know?”

Bailee just giggled in response. Geez this little slut was stupid. How would she ever get guys if she didn’t know how to rank and compare girls. Men do it all the time automatically, so Bailee made sure she was constantly aware of how she ranked compared to all the girls around her. She was currently number one, and she was giving the 32D girl a chance to be second, only the little ditz was just standing there.

Bailee sighed, she was a 32J, so she was obviously the girl in-charge around here. She grabbed the tan little dummy and shoved her tongue down her throat. She seemed surprised but didn’t seem to object. 32D actually started getting into it once Bailee took one of her hands and stuffed it under the pink tank top so that she could have a chance to see what real boobs feel like.

Bailee wasn’t into girls that much, but what she was into was doing anything to get attention from men. They really liked it when girls made out with each other or licked each others kitties. In fact, Bailee was pretty sure that the whole “lesbian” thing was just a trick to get boys to pay attention to them.

The little Persian girl was starting to make these sensual little moaning noises; at least she wasn’t a prude. Bailee was glad, she hated prudes! She remembered that guys really like pictures of girls licking each others pussies or buttholes, and it was her job to make guys happy. So she squatted down, making sure to spread her legs so everyone could see how good a job she did shaving while she pulled up 32D’s skirt, but she gasped when she saw what was underneath.

“Oh my god! You’re wearing panties?!? Gross!” Bailee always thought panties were really dumb. What’s the point of even wearing a dress if you’re just going to cover up your holes anyway! And besides, everybody knows that pussies need to be uncovered to be healthy. That’s why it’s always best for girls to wear the shortest skirt possible and always sit with their legs open.

After she got over the initial aversion, she started feeling sorry for the girl. Obviously all girls want guys to put their dicks inside them, but the flat-chested little ditz was too dumb to know how. Bailee decided to help by yanking the girl’s panties to her ankles. She made a little noise of objection, but didn’t end up resisting. She just got this really embarrassed smile while everybody took pictures of her little mocha-colored pussy. Bailee had her step out of the underwear, which was a pain. Imagine if this girl had to do all that while a nice man was waiting to put his cock in her butt, she thought.  

She held the garment at arms length as if she was holding a dirty rag and walked over to drop it in the gutter. When she turned back, 32D was covering her face in this giggley embarrassed way. That was good! Boys seem to get super turned on when girls are embarrassed. Bailee went back over and squatted down to stick out her tongue as far as she could and licked at the girl’s bare pussy gingerly. The light-brown girl had her pubic hair shaved into a little heart, which Bailee liked. At least she prepared to have her kitty on display. She tried to stay facing forward so everybody could get both of their naked crotches in the picture. Bailee really only flicked the girls clit with the tip of her tongue. It was more important that all the nice men get sexy pictures than it was to actually pleasure the panty-wearing dummy.

32D seemed to get relaxed a bit after that. She even took the lead and posed for pictures with Bailee’s giant boobs; pulling her little tube-top up, holding the firm-pink orbs with her little hands, even pinching and pulling her nipples. She had to admit, as dumb as this girl might be when it comes to getting cock, she could have been a lot worse!

After a few minutes, 32D introduced Bailee to her boyfriend. He looked Persian, too. Also, he dressed like he had a lot of money. He offered to pay Bailee’s way into the club so that she could hang out and have fun with them all night.

He was even nice enough to buy her a drink and he put this special vitamin in it that he said would keep Bailee from getting a hangover the next day. She must have drank a lot, because she didn’t really remember much of what happened after that. Later that night, she had a vague sense of being in a hotel room while a bunch of really awesome guys took turns having sex with her. That made her happy. She also thought she heard the nice Persian man talking with one of the men about money. Geez! What a workaholic! Who talks business while a girl is trying to get lucky!

***

Bailee woke up the next day to find herself laying in a bed in a hospital room. This cute young Indian doctor with a boyish look noticed she was awake and came over to her. He paused for a moment, seeming a bit flustered.

“Hello, Bailee. How are you feeling?” he started with this super hot English accent.

“Ummm, I dunno. I think I had, like, a super fun and good night last night. I kinda remember getting to do like, a lot of sex, and I got to give a bunch of guys blowjobs.” she paused to think for a moment, “Oh, hey! Do you want a blowjob? You’re totally, like, super cute.”

He seemed a bit flustered, “Umm, no. That’s quite all right. The police found you passed out on the couch of a hotel lobby. You… didn’t have any clothes on. They brought you here to make sure you were okay. We learned that you had a rather substantial dose of Rohypnol in your system. Do you have any reason to believe that anything happened last night that you didn’t agree to?”

Bailee shook her head, “uh uh, I think I had a really fun night.” she said before giggling. As she was answering, this hot older woman with silver hair and a lab coat came in. Bailee thought it was silly the way she was dressed. She might be middle-aged, but she still had a good body. Maybe her and Bailee could go out and pretend to be mother and daughter to pick up boys! Guys were totally into that sort of thing.

The older lady leaned over to the cute boy doctor and whispered something to him. She said something about Bailee’s “fee-an-say,” which Bailee figured was a fancy doctor word she didn’t know. And she said something about how Bailee hasn’t been the same since.

Suddenly it occurred to Bailee that hospitals were really sad and totally not fun and that she didn’t want to be in one anymore. So she put on her heels and told them that she was going to go home now. They said some doctory stuff and made her write her name on this really boring paper, but at least they let her keep the cute gown that let everybody see her butt. She could totally use that for costume parties or sexy roleplay. Maybe she could even go out and tell everybody that she has a disease where she needs cum to survive. Yeah! That’d be perfect! After all, guys could be super gullible when it comes to sex. They’ll fall for anything when they’re horny! She was sure glad that she wasn’t like that.

[vee-angel]

Bimbo Bailee (Chapter 1, part 1)

(Part of the Pervert Pentet Series. Content warning: subtext of tragic loss)

Part 2 coming very soon!

          --------------------------------------------------------

She woke up in a daze. How long had it been since she’d been in control of her own mind? The trance was lasting longer each time, how long until it’d be permanent? The thought of being… her… forever made her heart race with fear. But it was also something she found incredibly erotic.

She never would have started dating Mark if the thought of mind control wasn’t so incredibly arousing to her. It started with minor things, she’d find she wasn’t wearing underwear in the middle of the day despite clearly remembering putting it on in the morning. She wasn’t sure if the memory was false or if she’d removed them at some point in the day while in a hypnotic trance. She kept pushing for more, the idea of giving up control over her most valuable asset, her conscious mind, thrilled her more than anything else could.

In her youth, her parents had always pushed her to work hard and be smart, but it was never enough. Even when she graduated high school as Valedictorian at age 17, all they wanted to know was what she planned for college. At age 24, she graduated with a doctorate in neurology. She began dating Mark after she’d interviewed while she’d been completing her thesis on the effect of external stimuli on the long-term functioning of the mind. He was a hypnotist who claimed that with enough time, he could turn a person into someone completely different. They often debated, with her claiming that what he said was impossible. No matter what, she argued, there would always be certain core personality traits that would be innate, either because they developed in the formative years or because they were genetically determined.

She began submitting to things she thought of as “experiments” with him. The first few times she felt the influence of his “mind control” she was fascinated. To be able to experience something like this first hand! It was invigorating as a researcher. At least that’s what she told herself in the beginning.

Over time, she became more and more addicted to the idea of leaving her mind in the hands of another. He went from being her boyfriend to becoming her Master. And their “experiments” had taken on a more intense and erotic tone as well. He created this other persona that he could snap her into any time he wished. It was so liberating, the other her was so… happy, carefree. It was as if she could have a respite from the cacophony of thoughts and considerations she grew up being taught was expected of her as an intellectual. She was never happier than when she was with him; and despite knowing every neurochemical reaction that came with being in love, a part of her felt like she’d found her soul-mate.

Eventually they went on a trip together to an isolated cabin, someplace they could do some of the more daring things they’d been wanting to try without fear of her being embarrassed by interactions with other people.

She remembered they did something… daring. Foolish, even. She couldn’t remember exactly what it was at the moment. She flexed a cognitive power that felt like it hadn’t been flexed in quite some time and tried to remember. There was a distinct recollection that her Master was the only one that could release her from the trance once it was activated. But there was something else… something even more reckless she’d asked him to do, to program into her ever-more-pliable mind. What was it?

Her heart sank as she remembered how the trip ended. Her Master had been taking a walk outside the cabin and had slipped on some of the autumn leaves, breaking his skull on a sharp branch jutting from a tree-trunk. She reasoned that the trauma must be why she was having trouble remembering. A sickening hollowness began to form within her the more she thought about him. Her mind instinctively reviewed all the neurological changes that could occur in response to the loss of a loved one. Yet the memory felt distant, like enough time had passed that she shouldn’t feel as bad as she did. She just couldn’t remember what had happened in the interim.

She looked around the room and found that it seemed foreign to her. The layout was definitely her and her late Master’s house, but the decor looked more like it had been done by a middle-school cheerleader, and a slutty one at that, judging by the small, brightly colored clothing strewn haphazardly about.

She took a step out of bed and was immediately floored by a lightning bolt of pain that shot up her Achilles tendon the moment she tried to stand up.

“AAAHH!!!” The pain turned to a slow throb after several seconds, and she tried to examine her feet. She determined that her range of plantar flexion, pointing her toes, was a bit greater than it had been before. But dorsiflexion was severely limited, she couldn’t bring her foot flat enough to take a step. It was as if her Achilles tendon had shortened somehow, as if she’d been wearing high-heels every waking moment for… months? Longer? She couldn’t be sure.

She noticed a pair of hot-pink heels near where she fell and naturally assumed that they were there for the purpose of allowing her to walk. She strapped herself into them and climbed to her feet. The throbbing in her heel had mostly diminished, and she found herself to have an inexplicable ease when she tried to ambulate in the four-inch heels. She rushed to the bathroom mirror; she had to see herself, as much as the thought terrified her.

When she saw her reflection, it took her a moment to believe that she wasn’t looking at an obscene poster of some comic-book bimbo that had been rendered to look realistic.

Her short brown hair had been dyed blonde, and tied up in loose pigtails that hung from the top of her head down her back. By her estimation, her hair terminated just above the sacroiliac joint just superior of her tailbone. She frantically brushed her fingers through the long, platinum locks. Surely these are hair extensions. She couldn’t possibly have lost that much time in her trance-state. This was over a year of growth. Way over.

And her breasts! They didn’t even really look like hers anymore. She’d gotten implants soon after she began dating her Master, as he had a thing for the bimbo look. She figured she could go up to just barely a DD and still seem like a respected professional so long as she didn’t dress to show them off. But it looked like they’d been enlarged at least twice since then. She couldn’t even guess at their current size

32J.

It had just popped into her head, but deep down there was a sense that it was a point of pride for her. The other her. Her lips appeared inflated as well, to a size that would be considered a good bit more than just pillowy.

After the shock wore off, she had to admit, she liked the way she looked. Mark would have loved to see her looking like this. It seemed she’d overcome her habit of stress-eating, and found the time to go to the gym. At least based on the fit, lightly tanned body that appeared to serve mostly as a transportation system for her firm, basketball sized tits.

She took a few deep breaths, trying to determine if this was all a dream or some kind of delusion. She’d tranced out before since her Master’s death, but never for more than a few days. And for the life of her, she couldn’t recall what triggered it. Needless to say, she’d never stayed in her trance state for this long.

Another memory suddenly popped into her head from that terrible night. Something she’d asked for to ensure that they keep pushing things further and further. He had programmed her so that every subsequent trance had to last longer than the previous one.

Shit!!! She thought frantically, They were supposed to be longer by hours, maybe a day or two at most! This wasn’t supposed to last for months. Not… years.

She’d only pushed him to do those things because she knew in the back of her mind that they’d be temporary. He was responsible, and if things got out of hand, he could undo the programming. Unfortunately, that was no longer an option. She still got a sense that there was something else she was missing. Something big. The trigger! That’s it, she’d just have to avoid the trigger phrase! Now what was it? She couldn’t remember! That’s okay, she would just need to avoid interacting with anything until she figured it out. Don’t go outside, don’t talk to anyone, don’t turn on the tv. You don’t want to get accidentally triggered and wake up years from now with even bigger tits.

She tried to steel her resolve when she heard a sound from the other room. An electronic beep and a tinny voice beginning to talk. The answering machine!!! Her master had been her senior by a few decades, and his house still had a landline and an old-style answering machine. She rushed out frantically to try to turn it off. The person on the line explained that they were from her old college and explained that they were calling for…

That was it… The trigger! The impossibly stupid thing they had done in the cabin that night in the woods. They made the trigger phrase… her own name.

“-University and we’re looking to contact Dr. Bailee Holcum.” She tore the machine out of the wall, but it was too late, she could feel the fog setting in. . .

***

She looked down at the broken machine on the floor with puzzlement. “Well uhh, that’s like, what you get for saying stuff that’s, like, totally boring, Mr. Answering Machine.”

There was a phrase she noticed echoing through the cavernous space of her mind. She said it aloud to try to work out the puzzle. “Bailee… Holcum? Bailee… hole… cum? Oh!! Bailee’s holes need cum! Duh! I need to get dressed so I can go out and get laid! That’s like, totally super important. No wonder I was thinking that!”