Excerpr from the book Being Bimbo

Several years back I published the story of how I turned a smart, vibrant young woman into a brainless and sex crazed bimbo. Those of you who read it know how I achieved it. Since I've no interest in iterating that portion of our relationship, I will simply instruct those who are not in the know to read 'Becoming Bimbo' for proper understanding.

With that out of the way, I will introduce this story thusly: A few years after reducing her to a full-time bimbo I decided to delve deeper into her psyche. My intent was to discover just how much of Michelle truly remained. What I discovered was a distinct division of personalities. Of course I was intrigued and so were my business partners. It was at their behest I set about to delving deeper into what she had become.

Of the things we learned, the most important was that Michelle had been so thoroughly locked away that she could neither act nor think on her own. Her mind was entirely linked to Brandi's, though the converse was not true. What that meant was that, while Michelle's personality was entirely her own, her intellect and emotions were very much locked in step with Brandi's.

This is a long way to go about stating that Michelle very much knows who she is and what she has become. She also knows there is little, if anything, she can do about it. Michelle is, to be sure, trapped within the mind of a brainless bimbo. Much as she has tried she cannot escape. In fact, as this transcription concludes you will understand why she no longer wants to do so.

Before going on with her story I should note that Brandi/Michelle has no capacity for numbers. Thus, any numbers given in her story come from me. Under normal circumstances she cannot read or write. Thus, this story was entirely dictated. Because of her inability to speak clearly the task of deciphering much of this was quite tedious. Fortunately, as I have become accustomed to her speech patterns, I was able to understand the majority of it with only a little help from others.

One effect of her limited capacity made her story read as if it were told by a child. Consequently, I was forced to adjust it rather severely for the reader's sake. The un-edited version of this transcript remains intact and is available only to clients to aid in their understanding while viewing the digital recording.

You may note that she waffles between calling herself Brandi and Michelle. She also refers to herself in third and first person, while occasionally referencing herself as a plurality. She also refers to me as Daddy or John, sometimes in the same sentence. Because it makes for interesting reading, and offers a deeper glimpse into her head, much of that was left in this narrative.

Before beginning this narrative Michelle was instructed to provide a description of her and her life as a sort of introduction. So as to provide a glimpse into Brandi's intellect I allowed the bimbo a significant amount of influence during her introduction, following which I returned Michelle to full control.

You will find her verbiage rather repetitive. She knows only the slang terms for her vagina, breasts and anus. They are now her pussy, ass, asshole, tits, etc. She also uses the odd term "basketball balls" when describing her breasts, something I find rather comical. I am sure I am leaving out several other oddities, but they will become quite obvious I am sure.

It should be noted that her experiences while aware or in control were strictly monitored, planned and closely watched. Even our private moments were thoroughly monitored and have since been thoroughly documented.
It should also be noted that Brandi is aware of Michelle, though she is unsure who Michelle is. She knows of her, knows Michelle exists but has not completed the connection as Michelle has.

The video of the following transcript was created in the presence of one of our more prestigious and doubtful clients while under the scrutiny of a rather renowned psychologists.

Enjoy.

Michelle's self-description:

My name is Michelle. I am a bimbo. But I was not always a bimbo. I used to be smart. I had plans for a career. But all that changed. I don't know how long ago, and I don't know why.

My husband's name is John. He takes care of me. Without him I am not smart enough to take care of myself. I can't read or write, I can't do math, and I don't have the smarts to do anything but have sex. I am good at having sex. I know that because Daddy says so. I like having sex. It makes me very happy.

I am telling you this story because John told me to tell it. He says it might help him to fix me. I hope it does. I want to be smart again. I want to be free of Brandi and be me again.

As a bimbo, my life revolves around pleasing John. I do that by doing whatever he tells me to do, by being a perfect bimbo for him. Sometimes that means being his toilet, and sometimes it means just sucking his cock or fucking him with my ass.
I love sex. I never cum, but I still want to have sex all the time. I love it. It makes me feel good to make Daddy cum. I love when he cums on me. I love eating his cum. It tastes better than anything. But pee tastes good too. Emotionally I hate it all, though. Liking it is because of how Brandi makes me feel.

My body is different than it used to be. I have huge tits as big as basketball balls. They are so big and I am so small they rest in my lap when I sit down. They make me look like a bimbo even though I am not really a bimbo.
Daddy tells me I am four feet eleven inches tall. Daddy tells me he once made my tits into an 'M' cup. They are bigger now. I don't know how big except they are as big as basketball balls. That's what Daddy tells me. I love my tits because they make me look like a bimbo. But I hate them because they make me look like a bimbo. It confuses me sometimes.

The lips on my face are perfect bimbo lips. They are bow shaped. I can't really talk clearly because of my lips. That's because I can barely open my mouth anymore. I told the doctor to make them tight like my asshole. Now, when I open my mouth, there is only a small hole between my lips. I love them because I can suck cock better than anyone. Daddy told me so. But I hate them, too. I don't know why since they are perfect cock sucking lips.

Daddy wants you to know that I walk with my arms turned so my palms face forward and that my steps are short and mincing. I have to walk really fast to keep up with Daddy. He walks very fast.

How I spend my days is simple. I wake up. I drink Daddy's pee and suck Daddy's cock. Sometimes he fucks my ass or my mouth. Sometimes he pees in my asshole, too. After he leaves for work I go exercise. Then I take a cold shower and watch television. There is never anything to watch because I don't know how to turn it on. I just stare at the screen.

When Daddy gets home I drink his pee (when he lets me) and suck his cock. Sometimes he fucks my ass or my mouth. Sometimes he pees in my asshole, too. Then he makes dinner and we watch television. Daddy knows how to work the television. But I don't understand what he watches most of the time. When I do understand it I get sad. But I still want to understand it. I don't know why I want to understand it. Bimbos don't need to know anything except how to fuck and suck cock. I am a bimbo, so I don't need to know those other things. But I still want to.

When we go to bed I drink his pee and suck his cock again. Sometimes he fucks my ass or my mouth. Sometimes he pees in my asshole, too. Then we go to sleep.
Oh, I forgot, Daddy gives me an enema in the morning and then at night.
But we aren't always home. Sometimes we travel. We have been lots of places. Those places were very pretty and I was excited to be there. We moved to Japan for a while, too. That was nice. Now we live in a big house in California. It's pretty there.

Chapter 1

I can remember being places and doing things before I became fully aware of who and what I am. Those memories are dim. They belong to Brandi. My memories, my real memories start at childhood and end somewhere in my twenties, picking up again some time back. That I do not know how long I have been 'back' is unnerving, though not so unnerving as the fact that I can neither read nor write. I am incapable of doing simple math. Numbers and letters mean very little to me. They are but scribbling to my limited mind; and it infuriates me that it is so.

My memories, those few I can remember before becoming fully aware, are not my own. They are shared with Brandi; and though I am Brandi, I am also Michelle. That I was Michelle before I was Brandi I know simply because the memories exist. Still, there seems to have been no time in my mind I was not Brandi. It confuses me greatly. But my life is a mass of confusion, and I cannot escape it no matter how hard I try. It makes me both happy and sad at the same time. That, too, is quite confusing.

I said the memories before I became fully aware are dim. That isn't exactly true. They are vivid, but they are not mine. They belong to Brandi, and I have to allow myself into her mind to fully remember them. I detest that mind, and so I keep myself separate from her. But even that isn't exactly, true. Her mind still permeates my own. She still controls me to a large degree, while I control very little of her.

Her sexual need is tremendous, almost overpowering. So is her need to please John. She wanted/wants to be a perfect, brainless bimbo for him, body, mind and soul. In turn, I feel the same powerful emotions; and though I have tried to shake myself of her emotions I cannot do so. Thus, all her emotions are mine. The converse cannot be said to be true. She knows I am here much as an elephant knows a gnat is buzzing around it.
My first moment of awareness began early in the morning. The alarm had only just gone off and John had only just woken up.

"Good morning, Brandi," he said. Then he kissed my cheek.
I turned and smiled, stretching and yawning. For a moment I looked about the room, wondering if we were in a hotel. Then I remembered that he had the entire house renovated.

Without so much as a thought, I crawled over him and got on my knees beside the bed. John sat up, patted me on the head and then smiled.

"I'm already hard," he told me.

I smiled, wondering why he told me he was hard. Then I stood and bent over the bed. A moment later I felt the plug in my ass deflating. When he brought it to my mouth I sucked it in. Everything was automatic for me, and I thought it odd I wasn't disgusted. I also thought it was odd I had been plugged, but knew it was not a rarity. That's when I decided it must be a dream.

Feeling John's cock between the cheeks of my ass, I knew exactly what he was going to do. Strangely, I was excited and happy for what was to come. It was as he filled my hole with his cock I remembered how much I disliked ass fucking. Nonetheless, I moved not an inch. Neither did I move when he began emptying his bladder into me.

"I guess you won't need an enema this morning," I heard John tell me.

Had my mouth not been filled I would have giggled. I wanted to giggle. It seemed oddly funny to me; and I was strangely proud to be used in this manner.

"I think I'm going to enjoy your ass this morning," he told me.

With my body resting on the bed, and largely supported by my enormous tits, John began fucking my ass. He was hard and rough, and I wondered if he might be pushing his pee further inside my body. It certainly felt that way.

"You're such a good bimbo," he told me, as he pounded my asshole.

"Thank you, Daddy," I wanted to say, my emotions high from his compliments.
Still fucking my ass, but nearing orgasm, he reached around and pulled the plug from my mouth. Then he told me to suck his cock. Disgusted as I was there was a sense of privilege in being allowed to pleasure him with this way. I wanted to suck him, to taste his cum and whatever pee remained on his cock.

I felt him slide back until he was almost out of my ass. "Clamp down, now," he ordered, and then pulled out.

Suddenly I was on my knees, my mouth free of the plug and taking his cock between my lips. But it wasn't enough, so I pushed myself further over his cock until it was lodged in my throat. Then I bobbed with abandon, pushing his cock into my throat until he came.
I can remember thinking how odd it was to feel his cum running down my throat. Nonetheless, it made me proud to have satisfied him. I was proud, too, that I had no need to swallow, that I could simply let it drain down my throat without issue. I was a good bimbo, and I knew it.

He took me to the bathroom and had me sit on the toilet. There he ordered I release the pee inside me. We showered after. Then, after telling me what a good bimbo I was, he returned the plug to its place in my asshole. After that we had breakfast. Then he left for work.

The remainder of the day I was a near automaton with no control over my actions. I exercised, took a cold shower and then sat down in front of the television and stared at the blank screen; and with the exception of drinking water and using the bathroom I did nothing else.

When John arrived home I immediately left the couch where I was sitting and ran in small mincing steps to greet him. Happy as ever I had been, I knelt at his feet and wrapped my arms around his legs. "I missed you, Daddy," I heard myself say in a little girl voice that was barely intelligible.

After greeting me warmly and telling me to stand up, John put his things down and headed towards the bathroom. Knowing he was going to pee, I stopped him, begging he use me instead. "Please, Daddy, I missed you so much. I don't want to wait to be with you."
I wondered for a moment why I called him Daddy. I wondered why I spoke with such a ridiculous voice, and why my words were so unclear.

"All right, baby," he said. Then he cupped my chin and bent to kiss me.

That was the first clue I had that something was terribly wrong, that I was not me. But I had no time to think on it, no time to consider why I couldn't kiss properly.

"Let me get it out for you, baby," he said.

Quickly I got to my knees and waited impatiently for him to pull his cock out of his pants. When he pulled it out I leaned in and sucked it between my lips. Several moments passed. Then I felt the first trickle of pee at the back of my throat; and as the trickle grew to a steady flow I opened my throat and let it drain, like a waterfall, into my belly.
When John was done, I pulled back and happily licked my lips. "Thank you, Daddy, that was good," said the little girl voice.

John smiled down at me, patted my head and then put his cock away. Then he took me to the kitchen and began preparing our dinner.

As John cooked, I thought back to how I had drunk his pee, wondering how it could have made me so happy. It should have disgusted me. But it had not. It had thrilled me, aroused me and left me wanting more. Quickly, I put it out of my head, determining, once again, that I must be in the throes of a strange dream.

When John finished cooking, he brought our food to the table. That's when I noticed I did not have a plate as he did. No, my dinner was served in a glass with a straw. But it wasn't abnormal. I always ate from a glass. I always drank my food while he ate his. Oddly, I hadn't noticed it when we had breakfast that morning. For a moment I wondered why.

We sat down and began our dinner. It was pleasant, calming. I sucked my food through the straw, wondering how eating this way could be normal. Suddenly I was faced with the knowledge of why I drank my dinners.

It had been a dark night in Japan. We had only just been out with friends. Two men and two women, but they weren't ordinary women. They were bimbos like me. Only I wasn't me. I was Brandi, and I was terribly jealous of them.

"You shoulda do youll mouth rika us," one of them told me.

Brandi shrugged. "Why?" she giggled.

"You no mole hava accidents. No mole teeth, no mole sclaping," she told me.
The girl was Japanese. I knew her well, but I couldn't remember her name. Her tits were huge, like basketball balls on her chest and her words were spoken with an exaggerated Japanese accent. Worse, her lips were so large they made her speech nearly unintelligible.

Brandi giggled. "How do you chew?"

The other girl, her name was Tomiko, giggled at me. "You no chew. You suck. Rika you suck cock."

The other girl giggled. Puta youl fingel in my mouth. You see how it feers."

We did. We put our finger in her mouth. Instantly she sucked it in, and I knew it to be an automatic reaction. We had the same reaction when something went in our mouth. Finally, after wiggling my finger about I pulled it out.

Tomiko giggled. "I sucka youl fingel rika I sucka cock. It feer good?"
I told her it did. It felt soft, but firm; and I knew Daddy would like it if my mouth was like hers. I reached out and put my finger in the other girl's mouth, inspecting to see if it were the same. It was.

"You rika?" she asked.

Daddy and I ate dinner with the two men. Tomiko and the other girl - I think her name was Fujiko - drank their dinner through straws; and as I watched them I thought it far more attractive than watching the men chew.

When we left them I told Daddy about it. "I like your teeth, Brandi," he told me. "I don't mind that you occasionally catch me with them. Besides, I think it's much more attractive that you have real teeth."

I knew he was lying. Only the previous night he had gotten scraped on my teeth as he fucked my throat. Later that night the same thing happened.

For several weeks I begged John to take me to the doctors to have my teeth replaced with whatever was in the Japanese girl's mouths. He refused. But I was determined; and after several nights of terrible fighting wherein I threatened to leave him, he agreed to my demand.

John announced he was done with dinner, breaking me from my thoughts. Suddenly we were up and heading to the living room. It was as I knelt on the floor between his legs I realized I was naked. But I was always naked. I knew that. I wondered why it surprised me.

John reached for the remote and turned on the television as I freed his cock from his pants. Then he watched television while I sucked his cock; and it was there, with no need to speak or think, that I fell back into my memories.

"I really don't want to do this, Brandi," Daddy told me as we headed to Doctor Watanabe's clinic. We were in a cab in Tokyo. I was wearing a bright red PVC outfit that hid virtually nothing from passing eyes.

I looked at him and shook my head. "I want this, Daddy. I want to be a perfect bimbo for you."

Again, he told me it was a bad idea, that I was already his perfect bimbo. But I knew better. I knew I could give better blow jobs if my teeth were like those other girl's teeth, and I told him so.

We arrived at the clinic sometime later. When we walked in we were greeted by Aya, Doctor Watanabe's assistant. She led us to a waiting room where we sat and waited for the doctor. When he came in I told him what I wanted, so he led us to a computer and showed us the different things he could do.

"You must understand, Brandi, that you won't be able to chew or eat like you can now," Doctor Watanabe told me. Then he looked at Daddy and told him the same thing.

"It's not up to him!" I blurted. "It's up to me."

The doctor pulled some fake teeth from his desk drawer and let me touch them. "These are the materials we have for replacement teeth," he told us. But I didn't like them. They were hard and rubbery. Then he had Aya bring in a bowl of water so I could get them wet.

After testing them all I picked out the squishiest teeth. "I want these," I told him, holding it out like a child.

Doctor Watanabe smiled, made a slight bow and then started talking to Daddy. By that point I wasn't paying attention. I didn't care about anything but giving the perfect blow job.

Daddy touched my shoulder. "I really think we should talk about this, Brandi," he told me. "It's going to take a while for it to heal and you won't be able to chew. That means you will have to eat a liquid diet for the rest of your life."

"I like liquid, especially your cum, Daddy," I said in my sweetest voice. Then I demanded he give me the teeth I wanted.

The television went off and John patted me on the head, breaking me from my thoughts. "Let's get to bed," he told me.

As we walked to the bedroom I noticed many of the changes he had made over the last few years. Only I didn't really notice them as wonder what had happened and why I hadn't noticed the changes before. Even that day I had not noticed the changes. But now, as we walked, the house seemed entirely strange to me.

When we got to the master bedroom Daddy undressed. Then he took me into the bathroom and made me get on my hands and knees. "Time for your enema," he told me.
As he was filling me with warm water it dawned on me that I was not dreaming; and strangely, though I knew this had not always been my reality I could not remember a time when it was not. Even stranger was the fact it felt entirely normal to be cleaned out in this manner.

After emptying my bowels we headed to the bedroom. There I knelt on the side of the bed waiting for further instruction.

"Okay, baby, time for bed," he told me as he slid beneath the covers.

We giggled stupidly, kicked off our high heeled sneakers and climbed into bed. I realized suddenly I had not known I was wearing anything. But I was too wanting to think on it; and the instant I climbed in bed I snaked my way under the covers and began sucking his cock.

Unlike before, when we were in the living room, there was a strange euphoria associated with sucking his cock. It emptied my mind of thought, and filled me with a tremendous need to please. It had not been the case in the living room, and it had allowed me time to think. Now my mind was filled with prurient need, the want to taste his cum and feel him in my throat.

"You are such a good cock sucker," I heard him say.

His words spurred me on, made me want to prove I could be even better. Presently, I was forcing my throat down over his cock, my tongue pushing out to lick his balls with each downward thrust.

Daddy threw back the covers and put his hands atop my head and pushed me down. Instantly I relaxed, opened my throat and let him fuck it. His thrusts were short, quick and hard. He groaned suddenly. Then I felt the warmth of his cum filling my throat.
For a long time after I remained still, breathing around his cock as his cum drained back into my mouth. Only when his hands fell from my head did I attempt to move; and then only enough to swallow, licking up the small amounts that had escaped my mouth.

"Such a good bimbo," I head him whisper. He was asleep soon after.

With Daddy asleep I left the bed and turned out the light. I realized then that it was one of the few things I knew how to do; and as I crawled back into bed I returned I discovered that my head seemed somewhat more clear than it had earlier.

Chapter 2

As I lay in bed, I stared up at the ceiling in the dim light filtering through the curtains. Struggling, I fought to remember what it was I was trying to remember.

All at once, then, it came flooding in and I saw the doctor as he spoke to me about the results of my oral surgery, saw John as he tried to talk me out of it. But I would have none of it. I wanted those teeth, to be a perfect cock sucking bimbo and I told them as much. But I couldn't remember anything after.

Quietly pondering what my actions had been, and if I had actually gone through with the surgery, my hand absentmindedly went to my mouth. I realized then that I finally had some modicum of control over my body. Suddenly I wondered if I had any control before. I had thought myself in a dream and had not tried to move of my own accord. It had all been her. But I didn't even know who she was at the time.

I pushed my finger in my mouth, noticing the tiny hole between my lips. But I barely gave it a thought. I was interested only in my teeth.

Daddy rolled over and gently placed his hands on my left tit, kneading it gently. "I love you, my little bimbo," he said. Then he returned to snoring lightly.

With my finger in my mouth I pressed it against my teeth. They were soft and velvety, giving slightly; and though I should have been utterly distressed, I was not. I was happy in knowing they were so perfect for sucking cock. For a moment I found it odd that I was not distressed. I had been dramatically changed and would forever drink my meals through a straw, and I knew my emotions should be other than what they were. At the time, however, I was little more than a witness to Brandi's actions, sharing her wants and emotions without realizing she even existed.

For a time after discovering my synthetic teeth, I withdrew from consciousness. This was not a willing decision on my part. I simply went to sleep that night and did not wake up the next day; and I've no knowledge of the time frame between that period and my next period of awareness. I only know it was not the next day.

When next I was aware it was to find myself in a dark room. I was dancing with two other girls. Both were Japanese, nude, and had the biggest tits I had ever seen on any woman. At a nearby table, John sat with two men. Like the women, both men were Japanese and they were deep in conversation, paying us little attention.

As we danced, I realized I was nude, too. Oddly, I wasn't shocked, at least not by my nakedness. What did shock me, however, was the tremendous size of my own tits. But I already knew I had huge tits. So why was it shocking? Why wasn't I more concerned? I didn't know and didn't care. But I did care.

Ignoring my confusion, I continued dancing and undulating to the music and though I wanted to stop I could not. I could only dance.

One of the men called over to us and said something in Japanese. Immediately both girls turned to me and began mauling my tits as they pushed me to the ground. There, on my back, one began licking my pussy while the other straddled my face. Automatically my tongue flicked out of my mouth to lick the smooth skin where her pussy should have been. Then it dawned on me that the girl had no pussy. Only I already knew it; and I knew the other girl had been similarly modified; and much as I knew I should have been appalled, I was not. I was excited. Worse, I was jealous.

I remembered then how doll-like the girls were, how smooth their skin was and how utterly without expression they were. They were perfect bimbos. The kind of bimbo I wanted to be; and I envied them terribly.

As we continued our strange sex dance I became ever more aroused and wanting. I undulated to the sucking and licking of one while licking the other's asshole. As I neared orgasm there came over me a sense of dread. It was then I realized I was not simply me but someone else and though I knew she had no knowledge of me or who I was, I feared her terribly.

A cheer went up. The music stopped. I heard John say something. Then we headed over to a large window through which could be seen a large baseball diamond. I knew the field, knew the seats, knew the men with us. I realized I knew the girls, too; and I remembered they had once been quite different. I remembered I had once been quite different, as well.

As the men seated themselves, so did we (the girls) kneel in front of our men. There were no orders, no discussion, and no questions. We simply knelt, dug into our respective men's trousers and withdrew their cocks. Then we sucked their flaccid cocks into our mouths.

Several times over the course of the game I drank down John's pee. Then, as the game apparently neared its conclusion I was tapped on the head - a signal for me to make him cum. Instantly, I began working his cock with my mouth, got him fully hard and then throat fucked him until he came.

When the night had come to its conclusion we took a cab back to our hotel. There John fucked my ass, gave me an enema and fed me. Then we went to bed.
It was as I lay in bed thinking of the girls that I remembered my jealousy. The girls were perfect, doll-like bimbos and I wanted to be exactly that. Suddenly I was crying.

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