The Bimbo System is one of 25 stories collected in my e-book Good Girls Go Blank – Stories of Hypnotic Transformation, available at my creator site for only $3.99 USD. Purchases support the creation of new, free content! (Click here to view.)

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Ava chose a bad day to get her boob job.

It was the day that Finn had been fired from his job as a receptionist at the plastic surgery clinic. He probably deserved it – he hadn’t taken the job very seriously – and it wasn’t like he cared about the job – it was just to make money until he finished his neuropsychology degree. But still, he took it in bad grace.

After arguing with the clinic manager, Finn stormed out – but not before fulfilling one last task. When women came out of surgery for breast enhancements, there was supposed to be a video playing, telling them all about the benefits and safety features of their new fake tits. Finn was supposed to start the video playing – but instead, in a fit of spite, he swapped it for a different video file that he’d been working on as a side project in neuropsychology class.

When Ava woke up, groggy, vaguely aware of the weight of her new fake boobs but still feeling the effects of the anaesthetic, there was the noise of static in her ears, and pictures playing on a video screen, changing too quickly for her to follow. Confused, not fully awake, she stared at the screen and let the images wash over her.

It was a hypnosis system that Finn had designed. It conveyed five key subliminal messages to its viewer – plus a sixth one, that Ava didn’t process at first. The first five were:

NOT GIRLS BUT SLUTS

SLUTS NEED BIG TITS

SLUTS WITH BIG TITS ARE COWS

COWS NEED TO BE RAPED

COWS NEED TO LEARN THEIR PLACE

By the time Ava had recovered from her surgery fully, the ideas had burned themselves into her brain. Spacy, not really understanding what she was doing, Ava asked for a copy of the video she had just watched as she checked out, and the clinic manager gave her a copy of Finn’s file without noticing the substitution.

Ava wandered that day in a haze. She had wanted fake tits as a present to herself, to maybe find a new husband after a career prioritising her job as an executive over her love life. But now she knew she was a slut, with big tits, and therefore a cow. And therefore she had new needs.

By nightfall, she had found her way to a nightclub, and there she was able to rub up against an anonymous man on the dancefloor enough that when she lured him out to an alleyway and then denied him sex, he was prepared to rip off her panties and rape her against a brick wall. She orgasmed hard – she needed this. Afterwards, she had no panties, but that just made it easier to go back into the club and cocktease another man into violating her in the men’s toilets.

As she tried to sleep that night, she found herself crying, without knowing why. At some level, being raped twice felt… wrong. But she was a cow slut and she needed to be raped, and she had been. She knew her place. She was a good girl. 

She fell asleep, and dreamt confused dreams.

In the morning, she got up and went about the house nude. She stared dully at books on her shelf – “Modern Feminism” – “The Independent Woman” – “Breaking Through The Glass Ceiling”. She took them all down from the shelves and spent the morning ripping them up, while masturbating. It felt good.

Afterwards she placed an advertisement in the local adult classifieds. “I won’t consent, but I won’t complain. Rape me tonight. $300 an hour,” and her telephone number. Then she rang her work and quit.

She spent the rest of the day converting the rooms of her house into makeshift cages, each capable of holding a prisoner securely. It took a fair bit of hardware, and she forgot to put on clothes before going to the hardware store, but none of the all-male employees there challenged her, and she happily wandered around buying metal poles and padlocks while alternately rubbing her pussy and squeezing her tits.

Squeezing her tits was important, because she was a cow, and she needed to make milk.

That night she visited the nightclub four times. The first time was to get raped, because she couldn’t think properly until she had been used non-consensually. After that, though, she hit on women, not men. She’d slut up against drunk girls, then lead them out into an alleyway, where she’d gag them unconscious with chloroform before driving them back to her house and locking them in a cage, bound and gagged.

Soon she had three prisoners, all groggy from being drugged. She set each one up with a computer screen and speakers, and started Finn’s file playing for them.

Shortly thereafter, her customers started arriving. Several men had replied to Ava’s advertisement. She’d originally intended to let them rape her, but now she had another idea, and led them into the cages. She assured the men that the bound women were professional whores offering customers a rape fantasy, and then left them alone with the women. “Just don’t remove their gags,” she told them.

The muffled screams of the women as they were raped were quiet pleasing to Ava. Each of the women were used at least three times that night. Ava took two customers herself.

By the morning, Ava figured a night of chloroform, rape and hypnosis should have done to the girls what the tape had done to her. But to be sure, she kept them another two days. When the girls didn’t have customers, Ava raped them herself. She’d never been with a woman before, but they were all sluts, and she was a slut herself, and a cow, and cows needed to be raped.

After three days, she saw the glazed look in their eyes that she wanted. She let the sluts out and sent each of them with their rape earnings to go and get boob jobs. When they came back, they were eager to get started on abducting more sluts to teach them their place, and Ava sent them out happily to nightclubs.

Meanwhile, Ava made some more phone calls, and soon she had a delivery of industrial milking machines and lactation-inducing hormones on the way. She also commissioned a series of electrical shock-collars that would shock a girl wearing them if she made any sound other than a cow-like “moo”, or if she raised her neck any higher above her heels than a kneeling position.

Ava’s converts brought back seven new sluts, and she kept these ones in cages for a full week before letting them go. Her rape brothel was becoming profitable, and she kept any slut that wasn’t being fucked connected to a milking machine, so soon she would have a marketable supply of cow-milk too. 

Converted sluts abducted more sluts, and so forth. Soon Ava’s girls were running their own houses, and their own milk barns. Ava thought of it as the Bimbo System – cows turning sluts into more cows, expanding exponentially. When she thought of a world where all cows knew their place, she would almost orgasm on the spot.

That was when the final hypnotic instruction kicked in:

THREE MONTHS AFTER YOU WATCH THIS, YOU WILL FULLY REGAIN YOUR OLD PERSONALITY – BUT YOU WILL BE UNABLE TO ALTER ANY ASPECT OF YOUR NEW LIFE OR BEHAVIOUR.

This surfaced in Ava’s mind mid-rape. Her customer was balls-deep in her cunt, and was squeezing her tits pretty hard, when Ava suddenly started to sob and scream, and he had to repeatedly slap her to make her stop. She choked back her sobs until he came inside her, and paid.

Stop. Stop. Run away, Ava thought to herself. She wanted to flee her house, and everything she had created, and go somewhere where she could pretend none of this had ever happened.

But instead, Ava got up, and went down the corridor to the newest girl’s cage. She straddled the nude slut and began spanking the slut’s pussy until she felt the slut’s tongue beginning to lick the customer’s cum from Ava’s fuckhole. Then she leaned down and began to lick the slut’s own cunt in return.

No. I’m not a lesbian. I’m a feminist. I can’t enslave girls. Why am I doing this? Why can’t I stop?

But she couldn’t stop, not until she had orgasmed from raping her prisoner. She showed another male customer in to violate the girl once she had done, and then walked down the corridor, knelt, put on her shock collar, and connected her swollen, milk-filled fake tits to the milking machine.

A part of her mind realised that her first three converts would have the same instruction kick in later tonight. A part of her wanted to see the looks on their faces when they did. She wanted to be raping them when they did. Her cunt was suddenly very wet. 

The machine sucked painfully on her tits. No, her mind begged. No…

But what Ava said was, “Moooo….”

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