Bella wanted a job working in law, and the deal seemed good. The law firm was prestigious – it paid well, but it demanded perfection from its employees. They’d give her the job, on the condition that she let the firm pay for cosmetic surgery for her. She signed the paperwork, and checked herself into the private hospital.
Only it wasn’t quite what she’d expected.
She knew she was getting a boob job, but she hadn’t expected these giant, whorish udders that they’d given her. And it was more than that. The implants weren’t just silicone. There was a slow-release capsule in each tit that leaked hormones into her bloodstream constantly, making her uncontrollably horny and more than a little bit stupid.
There was a little chip just behind each of her ears, too, and at night it switched on, buzzing subliminal white noise directly against her auditory nerve. It told her, as she slept, that she was a fucktoy, a stupid bitch. It reasoned that nothing with tits as big and whorish as hers could be a skilled professional. She must be a whore, a cow, a thing. She should aspire to be a good little giggly bimbo decoration, and not think too hard about anything except taking cock in her holes and being obediently wet.
She tried to fight her new body for a while but it was no use. Her hormones drove her to masturbate multiple times a day. She found it harder and harder to remember to dress professionally, and less and less comfortable when she did. She more and more often forgot to wear underwear, and found herself choosing out sluttier and cheaper clothes in shops every day. She found it hard to disagree with men, and often involuntarily giggled, a high-pitched stupid sound that men seemed to like.
Her employers knew the process was complete when they found her vacantly masturbating at her desk in full view of the office, gazing raptly at pictures of naked bimbos on her computer screen, cum still drying on their digital tits. They led her into an office to sign a new contract, one where she wouldn’t be paid at all and would be a fucktoy for anyone the firm chose for her to fuck. They promised she could suck their cocks if she signed it, so of course she eagerly did, although it was so hard to spell her name these days. She signed in pink pen and drew love hearts around her name, and then kissed it to leave lipstick marks on the paper…
===
If you liked this story you’ll love my novella Abby’s Identity, in which a bitchy pop-feminist is broken down into a degraded fucktoy. Get your copy now for only $7.99 USD from AllTheseRoadworks.com! (Click here to view in store.)
===
<3
I love a happy ending!