[Fiction] Sir's Little Bimbo

[IceMaiden]

*Short story about bimbo hypnosis.


The bindings holding me are tight and firm, making movement almost impossible. I'm lay face down on the bed, each of my arms attached to one of the rails at either side of the bed, my legs in the same position at the bottom, making me spread eagle across the furniture. I hear the door to the room open and soft footsteps approach me before a hand gently trails down my naked back, causing me to shiver in anticipation. I've been aware all day that Sir has a game planned, only I'm not sure exactly what kind of game he has in mind. I don't know how long I have been like this, my mind left to wander over what could be about to happen.

"I promised you a game, my pet. So let's play."

His voice startles me as it interrupts the quiet I have been left in for what seems like a considerably long time. I hear rustling to the side of me before I feel him bring the flogger down lightly across my back. The strands tickle me, causing me to squirm and as I do so he brings his other hand down sharply across my butt cheeks. I manage to stay quiet, even as he brings his hand down again and again. As I feel my butt cheeks begin to warm, he swaps from his bare hand to another implement, although I can't be sure what he is using. It stings as it lands and I squirm as much as as the bindings allow - which isn't all that much.

This goes on for some time and when he deems my butt properly warmed up and ready, I hear him put down whatever he was using before he informs me that we will be testing out a new cane today. Still face down, I know he's aware of the scowl that flickers across my face when I hear him chuckle.

"Don't move." I'm informed suddenly. "If you move, there'll be a consequence."

I scowl further into the mattress and somehow manage to keep still for the first stroke. I manage the second and third as well, but the fourth causes my body to flinch and I attempt fruitlessly to move away from the offending weapon, causing him to laugh again.

I hear him place the cane on the side drawers and then what distinctly sounds like a chair pulling up to the edge of the bed. As I hear him flop down into it, I'm only confused about what is going on. Until he starts to speak, soft and gentle, in an almost tranquilizing voice. It isn't long before I feel myself slipping under and my last thought before my attention wanes completely is to wonder what he's about to tell me while I'm relaxed and under.


As I feel myself slipping back into reality, the first thing I notice is that my hands and legs are free once more. He's sitting at the edge of the bed, watching me with a small smile on his face.

"How do you feel?" he asks as I blink and sit up.

It takes a moment for me to form words, there's a feeling that I am forgetting something. "Good. A little woozy, but good." I manage to reply finally.

He beckons me over with his finger and I slide myself across the bed, reaching him as he stands and I see he took the liberty of getting naked from the waist down while I was under. I smile when I see his manhood peeking up to greet me. I glance at him and he nods slightly, which I take as encouragement to wrap my lips around him. He allows me to control the movement for about...oh 10 seconds, before his hands grip my hair and he takes over.

"Which country won the first Eurovision Song Contest?" He asks randomly, seemingly out of nowhere.

My mouth stops as my body stills, perplexed at the random question. As he tugs me onto him again, I realize he is actually expecting an answer to what must be the most random question in the entire universe. It's difficult to think while he slams into my mouth and causes me to choke on him and the longer I take to answer, the more vicious he becomes. Finally, I manage to clutch at an answer and mumble around him.

"Switzerland."

He stills for a moment and it's almost like he's slightly disappointed that I was able to answer. Before I can progress this, he hits me with another question.

"What's the sixth of the ten commandments?"

Drool coats my chin and tears pour from my eyes as he invades my throat and I fumble around inside my head for an answer. I know this and yet, I just can't seem to grasp it.

"Thou shall not steal?" I finally guess. I'm sure that's wrong, but it was the only one I could recall. I feel him grin above me as he informs me that I'm incorrect and I frown to myself silently. How did I get that wrong?

"What does a cobbler make?" He interrupts my internal thought process and I flinch as I search for the answer. This is easy, everyone knows this. Except for me, it seems. The words are so far out of reach and no matter how hard I try, I can not form an answer. He tugs sharply on my hair, reminding me he is waiting.

"Umm..." My voice stutters out and I'm scowling now.

"Shoes, silly girl. A cobbler makes shoes. Go back to concentrate on sucking, obviously your brain isn't functional today."

I feel my cheeks flush at his mention of my non-working brain, but before I can decipher why I couldn't remember the answer, he pulls away from me abruptly and I am left feeling almost bereft. He laughs when he sees my pouty expression, before turning me so I'm sitting and facing him.

"Let's play another game, pet. You have exactly 10 seconds to answer each question. For each one you get wrong there will be further consequences."

Briefly, I wonder what the earlier consequence was - I don't remember any being administered. I don't have more than half a second to consider this before he starts firing questions at me, his hands resting on my head.

"I'll be nice and start you off easy. Which zodiac sign is represented by the crab?"

Ooohhh. I know this one.

"Cancer, Sir."

"One point for you. I should have known you'd know the most useless answers."

I pull a face at him, causing him to laugh before he moves on to the next question.

"In the Bible, who buried Jesus in his own tomb?"

I scowl further. How are religious questions fair when I am not at all religious?

"Tick, tock." His tone is laced with laughter as I desperately try to recall the answer. "Too bad, time up. How much is three cubed?" He doesn't even finish the sentence before he starts laughing and I sigh dramatically.

"Next!"

"When were postcodes introduced into the UK?"

What sort of questions are these?!

"Ummm...1963?" I guess.

"Incorrect. One right and two wrong. We'll return to the remaining seven questions later. For now, we'll focus on the consequences for your brainless answers." He gently pushes me back and tells me to close my eyes and relax as he beings to speak soothingly to me once more. I frown slightly. This is the consequence? Being told to relax and some mild hypnosis to calm me? That doesn't seem like a consequence to me at all...

*

The following day, I feel slightly different but I can't quite put my finger on why. Everything just seems...more amusing than usual. I giggle more and as soon as serious thoughts start they almost instantly fade away and I can't even remember what I was thinking about to start with.

As I change into workout clothes, Sir walks by me and asks idly,

"How are you feeling, pet?"

"Good, Sir."

He smirks to himself slightly and my brow furrows as I try to figure out what is so amusing to him. Oh well, whatever it is doesn't concern me, I figure to myself as I shrug and slowly the curiosity eases away. As I start stretching and warming up, I feel eyes on me and I glance up to find Sir studying me intently. He gestures at my outfit.

"That's not something I would take you to wear."

Glancing down at the tight sports bra and tiny little white shorts on my body I frown again. He's right. Those aren't like me at all. How odd...I think to myself. Every other time I'd seen this in the wardrobe I'd instantly dismissed them as they were far too revealing. But this time, I didn't even remember picking them out. I shrug again. It wasn't anything to be concerned about.

Returning my attention to my workout, my mind drifts and my eyes follow Sir as he walks further into the room, drifting leisurely down to his butt. As he turns towards me to speak, my eyes drift to his groin area and I feel my thighs clenching. A low laugh causes me to look up at him and I flush, totally caught at checking out his goods. My face burns, showcasing my less than innocent thoughts.

"Thinking about anything interesting, pet?"

"Not really." I try to brush it off as my eyes meet his, only his expression darkens slightly. Oops.

"Don't act coy. Tell me what you were thinking about."

Well, shit.

"I was just thinking about..yourcock." I rush out.

"What about it?"

He's going to make me spell it out, isn't he? Fuck. With my face burning brighter, I answer, knowing I may as well get it over with.

"I was thinking about your cock in me."

"Oh? Where?"

"My mouth, Sir." I wonder if that's good enough...

"That's all? Nowhere else?" ...Nope. It isn't.

"Well, no. Not really. I was also thinking about in...in my other holes too, Sir. Both of them."

Tugging his jeans open, he slides his boxers down and frees his cock, with one hand slowly stroking over it. My eyes follow the movement and my core clenches again, this time in want and anticipation. I can't help biting my lip as my eyes track his movements.

"It seems you're very needy today, pet. This isn't like you."

He's right. This isn't like me. When did I start becoming obsessed with dick? I frown a little as I try to figure that out but before I can fully grasp onto the thoughts, they slip away, well out of reach. That's not important. What's important is what's before me, rapidly becoming harder.

I can't help but lick my lips at the sight and I hear Sir chuckle again, which causes my eyes to fly up to meet his. He is watching me intently, his expression a cross between amusement and thoughtful.

"Is there something you'd like to get your hands on?" His own hand continues stroking, ramping up my arousal. My cheeks flush as I turn my head and nod slightly. "Then what are you waiting for?"

Taking that as an invitation, I cross over to him and sink to my knees as my hands wrap around his base. He removes his own hand, allowing me more room and my head dips forward as my tongue darts out to lick around his tip. I briefly wonder why I'm so determined to have it, why is it suddenly so important that I feel and taste him there? Shaking my head slightly, I bat the thought away. The why doesn't matter. It only matters that I get it. I can feel my desperation creeping up as I guide him into my mouth and then drop my hands behind my back. Even as I suck, taste, nibble...it's not enough. It seems like it will never be enough. Right now, I'd be happy if I never moved from this spot again. His hand fists my hair and I moan, needily. I can feel the heat between my legs. I need him inside me properly. Glancing up at him, I whine.

"Sir. Please."

"Please what? What does my little bimbo slut want?"

Those words. They shouldn't do anything to me and yet they do. I feel my core twitch involuntarily and I can feel the wetness slowly spreading across my thighs. What is happening to me?

"I want you inside me now, Sir."

"You don't seem very convinced. I guess you don't want it that much."

He goes to put himself away and I feel despair quickly seep over me and I reach out to stop him, unable to stop myself.

"I do. I want, need, you inside me Sir. Please. Please fuck me."

He laughs to himself and I can't figure out why, but the reason doesn't matter. All that matters is how he feels as he pulls me to him and yanks down my shorts before sliding himself inside me. I can't help but let out a breathy moan, surprising both of us. As he picks up his pace, I grip onto him and smile as he slams himself in and out of me. This is more like it. This is how I should always feel and how I should always be.

*

The following days followed the same pattern as prior ones, where Sir asked me questions and I attempted to find the correct answers. Each time I was incorrect, he told me there would be a further consequence and he proceeded to follow the same particular patterns as last time, where he would coax me into a relaxing and tranquil state and never explain to me how that was the consequence.

I was unsure how it was and usually, I would have questioned how on earth making me feel so placid and serene was any sort of consequence but the why no longer seemed important and something that I didn't need to concern myself about. If I had been thinking clearly, I would have known that this was highly irregular as there had never been a time prior where I had been quite content to just let the why go unanswered. Each time that Sir asked me a question that I didn't know the answer to a small nagging part buried deep in my mind tried to peek out, trying to tell me that I should know the answer, that I had known the answer and there was a reason why I no longer seemed to know it. It was almost like I was getting dumber with each passing day.

As the days passed by, I found myself wearing skimpier and skimpier clothing, something that only a month ago I would never have dreamt of wearing. On the sixth day of this, Sir passed by me and glanced down at my outfit before making a comment on how skimpy it had become. I briefly wondered why I was wearing these types of clothes without so much as a thought to it. Half the time I didn't even remember pulling them from the wardrobe and changing into them. However, it no longer seemed to matter and I now felt naked and like someone else without the clothes that had made me uncomfortable for so long. It was strange when I thought about it, which wasn't that often because as soon as I did, my mind flitted elsewhere. I thought to myself that any lingering discomfort didn't matter provided that my body was almost fully on display as the clothes really didn't hide that much.

I also seemed to spend more and more time thinking about being pinned underneath Sir and him being rougher and rougher each time that we were intimate. When we weren't actively taking part in sexual activities, my mind drifted back to them and wished that we currently were. It seemed that 90% of my time was focused on sex, either physically or mentally, while the other 10% was spent working out and flaunting my body at every chance that I got. Sir still hadn't told me what the consequences were for the incorrect answers that I had given him, nor did he bring it up in passing again. This would also have been both surprising and curious if I had been thinking clearly, for it was very unlike him to leave something and just let it go unsaid.

We'd now played the game about seven or eight times and although the questions seemed to get easier and easier each time, I seemed to lose the answers more and more. The last time we had played, he had asked such a basic question that even a five year old would have been able to answer. Yet my mind had blanked and no matter how hard I searched for it I was unable to give him the answer that he was seeking from me. It didn't really matter though because those sorts of things were not something that I needed to think about or worry about. As long as my body was freely available and always of use to him and as long as I worked on perfecting both my physical attributes and sexual skills, then I needn't concern myself with anything more than that.

Whereas I used to read and debate, always questioning the ins and outs of the world and never letting the whys go unanswered to anything that crossed into my path, these days my time was spent watching porn videos and learning from the performers and reading trashy magazines so I could learn how to better highlight my features from them and slowly I began to look more and more like a doll.

As I thought about the times when I had watched the news and read books that I'd once considered important, I laughed to myself as I thought about how silly I had been thinking that I needed something like that. Somebody like me didn't need those things. All I needed was to make sure that all of my holes were available whenever Sir demanded them, that my body was in tip-top shape and that the only thing out of my mouth was the answer of yes Sir.

Every so often, I felt Sir watching me and when I glanced over at him he would smirk and look away, confusing me a little. What was amusing? Each time I would be about to ask him only for the thought to drift away into the nether and another more occupying thought - such as if my cleavage was on show, or my lips were painted neatly - would take precedence in my mind.

Days passed and it seemed like I could never get enough of Sir's cock either. I'd gone from rarely thinking about sex to never stopping thinking about it. If it were possible, I would happily fill up all of my holes with a cock 24/7. As that wasn't feasible, I made do with plugs and dildos whenever I was unable to have the real thing.

It didn't matter what I was doing or where I was, the one constant thing on my mind was being penetrated in any of my holes, and most times, all of my holes simultaneously. I could be distractedly flipping through tv channels and whilst outwardly I would appear to be focused on the TV, my mind was imagining all the sort of ways I could get endless cock.

Sir still wanted to play the game and naturally, I obliged. Only these days, I wasn't getting a single answer right. To my bewilderment, this seemed to amuse Sir and he seemed to prefer it when I got the answers wrong. Lucky for him, I was getting really good at getting them wrong lately. The last time we had played, he had once again ended with sending me into a calm and tranquil state and when I came out of it the first thing I did was dive towards him, not waiting for an invitation to sit on his cock. Rather than be cross, he again seemed amused and smirked the entire time.

Several weeks after my newfound appreciation for the male form, Sir sat down with me and told me to close my eyes. As he talked to me in a quiet and steady voice, I felt myself slipping under easily and when I came to I had no idea how much time had passed, only that I felt different this time. The questions I had gotten wrong before now whispered in my mind and I silently answered each one of them. I frowned slightly, wondering why I now knew the answers and when I looked up I found Sir watching me intently. I blushed when I recalled the way I had acted recently, the times I had grabbed on to him and begged him to take me. I was very confused, even though it felt like a fog had lifted from my mind.

Sir began to speak and I attempted to pay attention to what he was saying instead of trying to figure out what was going on in my mind. As Sir spoke, he made things clearer to me and I felt my cheeks heat up when I realized exactly what he had done to me. Now I understood the consequences. Sir smirked at my sudden shyness, which I had to admit was ironic given how I had been acting over the last week or two. I couldn't help it though, the more I thought about it, the redder my cheeks became until Sir was outright laughing at me.....which made me blush even more.

Grabbing hold of a blanket on top of the chair, I buried my head in it and hid my face. I could still hear his laughter, however. He pulled down the blanket so my eyes met his and asked a question that I had never expected from him.

"Would you like to go back almost permanently?"

The shock was evident on my face at the implication. Did I want to return to how I was? Would I lose part of myself if I did? Was that what Sir wanted from me? Indecision flitted across my features and I was stumped for an answer.

"I don't know." I finally managed to reply.

Sir smiled at me.

"Then I'll decide for you."

I stared at him expectantly and I could feel myself growing wetter at his words as he informed me that a future 90% would be spent triggered and as his little bimbo slut.