Daddy purchased the above heels for my first, in-person training session since I agreed to bimbofication.  So slutty and perfectly bimbo.

Sitting in just my black bra and thong (they didn’t stay on long) on the bed, Daddy ordered me to put the new heels on in front of him after he handed me a pair of thigh high fishnets stockings.  Of course, I immediately did as I was told.  Then Daddy bent me over and slipped a shiny, black PVC waist cincher around my thin waist.  It was so small and I thought there was no way it was going to fit.  Daddy insisted and I zipped it up.  It certainly was tight, but Daddy was right: it fit.

Daddy then instructed me to inhale.  When I did, he firmly tightened the cincher by tugging the laces.  Not once, not twice, but three times.  Fuck, it was tight but I was delirious.  I think my waist must have been shrunk to at least 25 inches, maybe less.  I have never been properly corsetted or cinched before – being the submissive whore I am, you could say I was a quick convert.  I loved even more that it left lace marks the next day.  As a painslut, I adore such reminders of the night before.

Soon I was buckled into a matching black patent collar, ankle cuffs and wrist cuffs.  Daddy then attached a much heavier chain leash to my collar.  It definitely made the point of who the leashed fuckdoll is in this arrangement.

Finally, with a handsome smirk, Daddy flipped me a cheap, flimsy plaid schoolgirl skirt – it resembled a knock-off, tan Burberry pattern.  Daddy further sneered and said: “I know you’re the fashionable type, bimbo.”  Calling it a skirt was generous.  It didn’t cover my firm ass at all, a point Daddy made repeatedly throughout the night.

Daddy led me down the stairs from the upstairs loft, gripping the chain leash and guiding me.  He nodded towards a very large floor mirror and told me to take a look at myself.  I slowly stepped forward in my new, very high slut-heels to the mirror.  The transformation had begun.

He asked me what I thought.  I answered: “I look so dirty. Filthy. I love it, Daddy.”  Shortly after, I was on my knees in front of Daddy’s chair getting facefucked.  I spent the next three hours with Daddy getting facefucked some more, fucked, spanked, dildo-fucked, flogged, scolded, belted, paddled, etc.  I quickly learned that Daddy loves to have me on display for him, whether on all fours (back arched) on the ottoman, or hog-tied on the floor, writhing on my back to rub the chain against my ass, bare pussy, and clit.  Daddy encourages that sort of thing.

I truly felt like I was floating.  I went home a very happy girl.  A bimbo fuckdoll in training.

A TBG insp. fic (again)

(Submitted by jamwrites and based on this text)


Frankly, breaking into NASA wasn’t as hard as Pearl had expected.

Things couldn’t have gone much better if she had wanted them to. After finishing her notes and sealing the manila envelope, Pearl had slipped out of the Temple and into the Warp, only to discover that there was a pad located just a few miles from the human space agency. Rose and Garnet had been out on a mission and Amethyst had fallen asleep hours ago; it was like the universe was practically inviting her to do it.

Of course, she had tried to simply walk in and hand her notes over at the front desk, but then the humans had ignored her, so wasn’t delivering the notes directly to the command itself a good idea? The humans hadn’t thought so. Pearl wasn’t exactly sure what a “restraining order” was, but something told her she wasn’t exactly welcome back.

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Finally finished a small personal thing I have had sitting on my desk for a while. I decided that when I wasn’t using the new bionicle figures as a resource for my drawing that I should have a decent looking display. To that end I sculpted and painted a mask display that can hold up to 9 masks using basic pieces as well as mata nui stones representing each toa and ekimu. I am rather pleased with the end result considering how simple it was.