Nicola bought the hair dye on an impulse, lured by the attractive model on the box and the slogan printed on the side – “Blonde: It’s a lifestyle, not just a hair colour.”
What she didn’t realise was that she was massaging more than just dye into her scalp. The dye contained several other interesting ingredients. She got a large dose of them as she rubbed them into her head, but they would also cling to her newly-blonde hair, allowing her to constantly inhale them over coming days.
The first was a mild euphoric. Using the dye felt *good*, and soon Nicola was reapplying it weekly.
The dye also contained several hormonal supplements. Over the weeks after her first application of the dye, Nikki found her sex drive increasing (to the point where it was sometimes difficult to think clearly), her breasts swelling and lactating as they were tricked into thinking she was pregnant, and her capacity for clear thought beginning to recede.
The chemicals also distributed throughout her body, and had further euphoric effects as they combined with other substances in her physiology. Firstly, the chemicals loved Vitamin D, and Nikki began to subconsciously associate the feeling of sun on her skin with happiness, and accordingly began dressing in skimpier and skimpier outfits, and going nude when she could get away with it. The feeling of sunlight on her tits or pussy was particularly gratifying.
Secondly, the drugs reacted to male semen in her stomach, cunt or ass, producing an addictive high. Nikki was initially scared when her next-door neighbour visited, having noticed her new wardrobe, and proceeded to sexually assault her in her own bedroom, but from the moment he ejaculated in her cunt, she felt such a wave of happiness that by the next day she was begging him to use her again. She was soon trawling nightclubs of an evening, dressed in practically nothing, servicing random men in the toilets or nearby alleyways, desperate for someone to cum inside her.
When she realised what was happening to her, she called the complaints line for the dye, but all she heard on the other end of the phone was a weird white noise. She listened to it for a while… and then an hour passed, and she was still listening. Abruptly, it clicked off, and a voice said, “Who am I speaking to?”
She had always called herself Nicola, and hated when people shortened it. “Nikki” was a name for bimbos or strippers. But now she heard herself say, “I’m Nikki and I have big stupid tits,” and then she giggled like an idiot.
“What are you good for, Nikki?” said the voice.
“Raping!” she exclaimed happily, and giggled again.
“Good girl, Nikki,” said the voice, and Nikki was inordinately pleased by the praise. “Go be a good slut now, and call back if you have any more doubts.”
“I will! Thank you, daddy!” Nikki said. She hung up. It was time to go out and get someone to use her like the bimbo whore she was. She decided that tonight she would dress in a butt plug, nipple clamps, dog collar, high heels and a labia spreader…
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