The hit show “Train Your Brain” gave each episode’s female contestant a simple challenge: train yourself, by any means you can, to produce a certain involuntary response to certain stimuli, and win a million dollars.
Past episodes had featured challenges such as “train yourself not to flinch when a man moves to slap your face”; “train yourself to become aroused when shown pictures of your sister”; and “train yourself to give a satisfying blowjob while asleep if a cock is pressed against your lips”.
Kagney – pretty, silly, and eager for fame and money – had volunteered for the show, and was given the challenge “laugh with honest amusement when men tell you jokes that degrade you”. She was given three months to develop the response.
At the filming of the “before” segment, it became clear there was much work to be done.
HOST: “What do you call a blonde who’s been raped ten times in one day?”
At which, Kagney tried to laugh, but it was clearly forced, and at the same time her arms crossed over her chest, and her thighs squeezed together protectively at the thought of being raped.
Still, she was keen to win the money, so she asked her friend Peter to help her train.
“The problem is that you find the jokes shocking,” said Peter, “and they don’t line up with your self-image. You need to immerse yourself in these ideas, so that they seem normal and amusing to you.”
Kagney nodded, as best she could with his cock in her mouth (his price for helping) and listened as he laid out his plan for her.
First he photographed her nude, in a variety of pornographic positions. He found a range of degrading jokes, superimposed them over the photos, and hung them around her house, set them as her phone background and computer wallpaper, and used them as flashcards to train her each morning and evening as she stared at them and masturbated.
The masturbation was important, he told her. Staying constantly horny would make her stupider and help her think less about anything other than what a dumb blonde bimbo she was. She nodded, rubbing her pussy, wishing he would give her permission to cum. This was humiliating, she knew, but it was worth it for a million dollars.
He found dozens of questionnaires where she would be asked to describe herself – job applications, property applications, credit applications, medical forms – and got her to fill them out for practice, describing her job as “fuckbunny”, her place of residence as “I forget because I’m dumb” or “the bedroom and the kitchen”, and her best qualities as “cow tits” or “accessible holes”.
She held parties where she invited her friends over and greeted them nude, while Peter encouraged them to casually grope her and call her “slut” or “cunt” instead of her name. He made her masturbate while staring at pictures of nude blonde sluts with giant fake tits. He slapped her harshly across the face when she asked questions, showed the slightest sign of self-respect, or was anything less than fully submissive to him.
And through it all, of course, the TV crew filmed it – every masturbation, every degradation, and each and every day of her progressively more vapid, giggly, brainless behaviour.
On the big day – the day she would be tested to earn her million dollars – she forgot to wear clothes altogether, turning up at the film studio entirely naked. Her face was flushed and her nipples were perky because her cunt had been wet for 72 hours straight without orgasm. She kissed the host on the lips without being asked and rubbed her body against him, and had to be physically pulled away.
HOST: “All right Kagney, are you ready for your test? You’ll be told three jokes, and you have to laugh honestly at two of them.”
KAGNEY: “Uh-huh! *giggle*”
HOST: “What’s the most intelligent organ in a blonde’s body?”
HOST: “The cock in her mouth.”
Kagney laughed honestly and delightedly. She’d been worried the host was going to say it was her brain, which wouldn’t have been right at all. If she’d had to guess, she would have said it was her cunt, but her cunt wasn’t very smart either so she liked the host’s answer much better.
HOST: “Which hole do you fuck a blonde in after you’ve already whipped her cunt so hard she cries when you penetrate it?”
KAGNEY: “I don’t know, which hole?”
HOST: “Her cunt, only now it’s even more fun.”
Kagney giggled brainlessly. Something about that joke made her worried, because she knew that if someone told her that joke, and then actually wanted to do it, she would let them, even though she didn’t want her pussy hurt and didn’t want to cry. Because she was a blonde, and blondes didn’t say no to men, right? But the host took her giggle as honest laughter.
HOST: “Good girl, Kagney. Two for two – so you’re already winning the money!”
HOST: “But we’re going to ask you the last joke anyway, is that okay?”
KAGNEY: “Uh-huh! I bet it’s funny!”
HOST: “Oh, it is. Are you listening?”
HOST: “Good girl. So – (very quickly) – a slut who wants to forfeit her prize money and be gang-raped on national television says what?”
And then, very slowly, as she thought about what the host had just said, she realised that she’d been thinking of this all wrong. As the stagehands came out and grabbed her wrists and ankles, and the show’s theme tune played, and the host dropped his pants and approached her forcefully-splayed legs, she realised that she’d trained herself to laugh at the punchline of the jokes – but of course, the punchline wasn’t the words that were said to her.
The host sunk his cock into her defenceless pussy, as the studio audience cheered and laughed thunderously.
The punchline was her.
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