Never underestimate the power of self-reinforcement.  Nikki had only been called a “silly little bimbo” once, by her father, in a moment of frustration, but those words had stuck in her head.  They were unfair, at that point, because as a teenager she had been a flat-chest, studious brunette, but whenever she was foolish or did something wrong, she would remember them, and repeat them in her head, “Silly little bimbo”.

Over the years she would say them more and more often.  When she failed a test at university, she dyed her hair blonde as self-punishment.   If she embarrassed herself in front of friends she would wear high heels and a short skirt the next day because she felt that was what she deserved.  

Her grades at the end of the first year of university were nowhere near what she wanted.  Disgusted with herself, she changed her laugh, training herself out of her old chuckle into using a ditzy bimbo giggle instead, to remind her of what a silly little bimbo she was for not studying harder.  

She was determined to do better in her second year, so she booked herself a boob job for the day after first semester grades were due, and told herself she would only allow herself to cancel it if she got high grades.  She knew this would motivate her to do well and not be a silly little bimbo.   She took great joy in describing to the plastic surgeon that she wanted the biggest, fakest, sluttiest tits she could have, to really motivate her to do well.

But the urge to self-sabotage was strong.  The work was hard, and stressful, and she found that rubbing her pussy was a good way to relieve the stress.  She would get wet and happy and stop worrying about her studies.  She would never let herself orgasm, though, out of guilt at what she was doing, so more and more often she floated through her days in a haze of lust.  

It also didn’t help when she started to go without panties.  The idea was that if she had no panties, it would be even more embarrassing to have a wet cunt, and maybe she would stop playing with her pussy all the time, but the addiction to the stress relief was too strong, and so she just ended up with a dripping bare fuckhole barely covered by her tiny hemlines.

Boys began to notice her now that she looked more and more like a pretty blonde slut.  They would chat her up, and it was hard to think straight with her pussy so wet, so she would nod submissively and let them do what they wanted.  The first two took her on dates before fucking her in the back seat of her car.   After that, word got around that she was easy, and it was more often the case that men would just lead her to one of the shadier spots on campus for a quick blowjob.  Most boys would cum in her mouth, but a few took pleasure from cumming on her face and tits and watching her scurry to the nearest bathroom in shame with semen drying on her skin.

She cried after the first time she was fucked, doubly so because her cunt had needed it so much.   She hated herself so much for being a silly little bimbo.  She punished herself by refusing to study on any night when a boy had fucked her, and instead took a photo of herself with whatever parts of her the boy had used exposed and uploaded it to a revenge porn site.  The crude and abusive comments that collected under these pictures mirrored her own thoughts and were satisfying, and she internalised each and every thing that was said about her in those forums.

She was fucked more and more often, and studied less and less, and on the day of her final exam she knew that she had no chance of giving any correct answers so she sat there in the exam hall and quietly rubbed her pussy as she cried.  She wrote “I am a sillly little bimbo” in all the spaces provided for answers.

When her results came, she had failed the semester entirely.  She immediately withdrew from further study that afternoon, and spent the evening ringing strip clubs and brothels to see if she could get a job that better reflected who she was, and which would let her punish and degrade herself every night for being such a silly little bimbo.  She would get her boob job tomorrow, and once she had her new fake tits everyone who ever looked at her would know her daddy had been right, so many years ago…

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If you enjoy stories of sexual fixations and psychological weakness, you’ll love my e-book Mindfuck, which you can get right now for only $3.99 USD at AllTheseRoadworks.com!  (Click here to view it in store.)

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5 thoughts on “Story: Stuck In Her Head

  1. Interesting. I like bimbofication. I just hate the “fake tits” fetish. It hits too close to home. If you really need a breast augmentation, just find a good surgeon that does good, realistic, work. Please don’t destroy your chest, girls.

    1. ATR stories should not be taken as a realistic depiction of breast augmentation or plastic surgery, or an encouragement or endorsement of engaging in it. (When we’re talking real-life, your body is your body and it’s nobody’s business but yours.)

      The virtue of the fetish for me – and it may be different for others – is the concept of a woman changing her body to make it more sexually appealing for men, and obviously so. I like it in fiction, for that element of “full body submission”. I’m indifferent to it in real-life.

      1. The concept of a woman changing her body to make it more sexually appealing for men is one I enjoy also. I just don’t think it’s a good idea to propagate the notion that fake plastic breasts are as appealing as real looking ones. Slightly smaller but real, beats it still for most. And if you want it bigger (which men do like) don’t destroy them by going cheap and fake.

      2. It’s an entirely subjective matter and the only person whose opinion ultimately matters is the woman contemplating the surgery, and the only consultation she’s obliged to make on the matter is with her doctor.

        I only get to impose my opinions and tastes on a woman in the context of consensual D/s, and even then I’d be uncomfortable letting D/s influence a choice to (more or less) permanently change her body (or not change it, if she wanted to).

        But in fantasies, it’s fun.

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