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Excerpt for "Umm..." His Reluctant Bimbo: Bimbo Hypnosis Series by , available in its entirety at Smashwords

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Umm…” His Reluctant Bimbo

Bimbo Hypnosis Series


Copyright ©2017 Izzy Slam

Smashwords Edition


All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

Umm… His Reluctant Bimbo is a work of fiction intended for mature readers. All characters are fictional and are consenting adults over the age of 18 years. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.


I hypnotized my 19-year-old daughter to turn into a bimbo every time I snap my fingers.

It really wasn’t all that hard. I spent last weekend at a hypnosis conference I had heard about in one of those online kink communities. When I saw the headline on the website’s bulletin board, I thought it was a training thing for doms, which I’ve never really believed in. You’re either a dom or you aren’t. You don’t magically become one at some bootcamp. But as I started reading the ad, it became clear that it was mostly for role playing. And, it guaranteed results.

I thought, what the hell, right? I’ll give this a whirl, see if I can get my little girl to become a walking, talking, breathing doll, ready to serve my needs at my every whim.

I’d always had somewhat of a Barbie-doll fetish. Not playing with them, mind you. Well, you know what I mean. And the thought of my willful but incredibly intelligent redheaded daughter—who was also a nose-to-the-books Engineering major—taking on the appearance of a toy with freakishly large tits and an empty head was enticing to say the least.

I had never pictured her that way whatsoever, so the transformation would be erection inducing. And did I mention I’d been wanting a chance to fuck her for months now? Juliet’s mom passed away years ago, rest her soul, so it’s not like I’d be cheating.

Anyway, like I said, it wasn’t that hard. I just had to record myself reading a script and play it for her while she slept. It was three hours of non-stop talking into a microphone, feeding her information about what would happen every time I snapped my fingers. But the conference and the work I’ve put into it has already paid for itself. I’ve used it twice now, very briefly which I’ll explain shortly. But let me just tell you: it fucking rocks.

I haven’t taken advantage of her just yet. And by taken advantage, I mean “fucked.” I’ve only transformed her for about fifteen to twenty minutes because of one little problemo. Not really a problem, per se, but the thing is, her body starts morphing before her brain empties, making her incredibly resistant to the changes she’s going through at the time. I’m still working on that. But luckily, she doesn’t have any recollection of her bimbo behavior, so I can basically do what I want without any repercussions.

I know. I’m a lucky bastard.

So this weekend, I have another conference to attend, this one work related. I have to drive six hours for some computer software training, but luckily, it’s at the beach. And I plan on taking Juliet with me and filling her up, if you catch my drift. It will be my first time taking her out in public while she’s fully transformed. And I cannot fucking wait.

***

“This is going to be a blast. Just me and the beach while I study for mid-terms.”

Juliet leaned down and shoved her bookbag along the car’s floorboard. Her long, creamy legs grabbed my attention, as did her tight little tank top she was sporting. Juliet was pretty skinny, but when she bimbofied, her ass and tits were outstanding. My cock did a mini happy dance in my pants thinking about seeing both of them later on.

“Can’t you put away the books for one weekend, Juliet? I think you’ve earned it.”

Honestly, she had. Fortunately, my snapping fingers were ready to make that happen by force.

“My tests are week after next. I don’t want to get behind, Dad.”

I’m going to get in your behind, I thought. Cum in your behind, I should say. I was thinking about it so hard, I wanted to pick up my phone and tweet #AnalTonight! Every man’s dream, am I right? Well, let’s just cut to the nitty gritty here. What straight man wouldn’t want a girl who will accept him into any hole, any time he wants?

“I don’t want you to get behind, either. I guess you can study while I attend the conference tomorrow. But after that, I want you to myself, young lady.”

I smiled in her direction, thinking about all the things I would do to her. She gave me a flat smile back.

“Yeah, sure. We can hang out tomorrow night. Maybe find a restaurant on the boardwalk overlooking the beach?”

“Toss in a couple of beers and I’m there.”

We got checked into the hotel—where we shared adjoining rooms—then spent some time relaxing on the beach. I was torn with doing a little “snapping” action before heading out to the sand and surf, but I would have felt guilty if Juliet didn’t get some relaxation time in. Then she ended up bringing her math book out there with a wine cooler in a plastic cup, so I started having my regrets. No worries, though. There would be plenty of time for my little bimbo after we ate.

After spending an hour relaxing in the late afternoon sun, I told Juliet I was heading back to our room to get ready for dinner. But what I really planned to do was get her dress out of my suitcase and hang it up so it wouldn’t be wrinkled when we went out tomorrow. I had picked it up a few days ago at this boutique my ex used to shop at, and I remembered all the cool, slutty dresses they sold.

For Juliet, I purchased a hot pink sleeveless dress that gathered in the middle. The neckline was more like a “tittyline” in that it scooped all the way down the chest. There was barely enough fabric to cover her breasts, and the hem would fall just above mid-thigh. Or just below ass cheek, however you want to look at it.

The store had a matching pocketbook and three-inch stilettos, and as I was checking out, the girl seemed shocked that I wasn’t picking up some pink diamond jewelry as accessories. I couldn’t believe I almost forgot the fucking jewelry.

I also stopped at the drugstore and grabbed all kinds of eyeshadow, lipstick, mascara, fake lashes, perfume, blush … you know, one of everything. They emphasized at this hypnosis conference how important these things were to a bimbo. And I understood why. Hell, I knew how I wanted her to look, too. So I came prepared.

I spread everything out on my dresser, making sure it was all there, then I covered it with a t-shirt so Juliet wouldn’t see it if she happened to walk in. I dropped her heels on the floor beneath the dress, then shut the narrow closet door, pretty fucking pleased with myself.

All through dinner, I found myself staring at Juliet’s chest, picturing them inflating to the hilt, and struggling with a boner the whole time.

“And you know I have to maintain at least a 3.5 GPA if I want a decent shot at the grad school of my choice.”

I nodded as Juliet talked non-stop about school. My daughter was going places, and I was fucking proud of her, no doubt. But sometimes I just wanted to tell her to shut up. That school wasn’t everything. You know it’s bad when a parent gets sick of their kid’s ambitions. I just wanted her to be dumb, sometimes. Just a nice, dumb bimbo to hang out with and fuck. Was that so much to ask for?


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