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This is the fourth of seven Bimbo 101 stories (And of eight stories set in my Witch’s Universe.) If you want to catch up or read the new chapters as soon as they’re done, throw a subscription my way!
https://www.patreon.com/c/SissyGirlSammi
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I was trying my best to get used to my new body, but somehow being comfortable in it just made me feel more uncomfortable, as if thinking this was natural was the most unnatural thing I could do. I suppose that made sense, but it certainly made the reality of my situation more difficult. Even when I stood straight and tall, in what would have been a powerful pose for my old body, I felt my breasts jutting forward and my butt jutting back. The heels hurt matters more, sending my massive ass and huge tits to greater extremes with their forced posture. My long hair had seemed like the least of my problems with those in mind, but as I somewhat accepted my female body, all the minor inconveniences had their time to shine.
There was just so much of it, and the blonde locks insulated the summer heat around my head. The earrings swung with every movement in a way that I was sure would drive me insane. The whole thing felt ornamental, like all the utilitarian function of me having a body was out the window, and only the visual appeal remained.
Above all, I was tremendously, painfully aware of how hot I was. I was bad. I had been cursed with a body that was going to make every one of Heather’s lessons exceedingly easy for her, and incredibly hard for me.
Speaking of which…
“What does this mean?” I asked, following her inside as she SNAPPED the lotion off my body. At least her magic had some benefits.
“Honey, you’re a bimbo, but you do know how to read. I know because of all the fashion magazines in your bedroom” she teased.
Seeing that she was going to be no help, I looked down again.
Lesson 2: Gold Digging, Free Drinks and Becoming a Trophy
Following her upstairs, with great difficulty, I asked again. “Seriously. This is vague. I can’t take this stupid course if I don’t know what the assignments are!”
“The assignment will appear when you’re close to the classroom. Right now, I’m just going to give you a quiz.”
“A quiz?”
“Consider it extra credit.”
I always perked up when hearing the words ‘extra credit,’ even when it was just a normal class and not one that involved me bouncing up the stairs and cursing whoever invented heels.
BOUNCE
BOUNCE
BOUNCE
BOUNCE
BOUNCE
So when I heard those words from her lips, after getting a D+ on the first assignment, I was all ears.
She reached my door and pointed inside, indicating the vanity that was waiting for me. “I’m going to get ready for a night out. If you can put on your makeup and be ready by the time I get back here, I’ll raise your last grade to a B-.”
I had no idea how to do makeup. The dozens and dozens of products on the vanity might as well have been alien technology to me. But the idea of increasing my last grade…
I hurried inside the room and quickly sat down, grabbing my phone on the way as my stepmother walked down the hall. She was giggling to herself, which wasn’t a good sign, but I had a job to do.
First, I had to get my phone open.
It was the same model as my old one, albeit with a pink rhinestone case instead of a sleek black one. But even if it worked the same way, it wasn’t my phone, and I wasn’t me. The lockscreen was a stark reminder of that. What had once been the night sky was now a picture of me in a bikini, standing arm and arm with Heather at some tropical resort. I tried to swipe up, having to try a few different angles to get it done despite my nails, and finally got it open.
“Okay, youtube…” I muttered to myself, taking great pains and efforts to look up a makeup tutorial. I had a lot of trouble with the fact that all of them seemed pretty specific, and neither the creators nor the algorithm expected someone to be a total novice. The ones that seemed most comprehensive were all too long, and the shorter ones were more based around specific looks than anything else.
Finally, I clicked a random one and went for it.
It was a lot like trying to do a job in a very specialized field, where you didn’t know what the tools, methods or procedures were even called. I tried my best to keep up, quickly applying a bunch of gunk, powder and other stuff to my face, fumbling and flailing until I heard the sound of heels clicking in the hall.
“You know, I could have zapped myself ready, but I do want this to be fair” she said from outside the door as I tried to rush my way to the end. As the hinges creaked, I finally got it done, turning to Heather-
And seeing her burst into laughter.
“Aww….you really did try…” she smiled, shaking her head. A quick glance back to the mirror confirmed what I already knew. I looked like a confused clown.
“I’ll tell you what…I’ll upgrade you to a C- for the effort” she offered.
“How can you expect me to learn all this so fast!”
“Because if a bimbo can learn it, surely a smart young mind like yourself can!”
“Bimbos have time to learn” I shot back.
“And you had time to learn about coding and school and all the things you’re so proud of. If I dedicated my time to them, I’m sure it wouldn’t be impossible. The point is that it’s a skill, one that takes experience and effort. And you ought to respect it. Now, since we can’t have you going out like that…”
SNAP
I turned back to the mirror, seeing excellently applied makeup, complimenting an already heavenly face with gentle shades and subtle hues.
“It really is an art, especially without magic” she commented. “Now, as for your dress…”
I had been so absorbed in my predicament that I hadn’t paid much attention to her outfit, a tight black clubbing dress that showed off her hourglass shape, and her cleavage.
“Wait a second…” I said, standing up. “Where are we goin-”
SNAP
I suddenly felt the constant, anxiety inducing feeling of air on my bare skin fade away. It was still there, just not to as great of an extent. Gone was the tiny string bikini, replaced with something more suitable for Heather’s plans.
Bright pink fabric clung tight to me, which shouldn’t have been a surprise. She seemed to like that color on me, and even I had to admit it looked good. It was slightly higher than hers and slightly lower cut, along with a few other alterations that made it clear she was the taken trophy wife and I was the young daughter, looking for play. For one, it was strapless, and my head futilely tried to wrap itself around the fact that my whole outfit was being held up by my breasts. For another, the feeling of a draft on my most sensitive and foreign body part told me I wasn’t wearing any underwear beneath it. I squirmed slightly as I thought of my vulnerable new parts, exposed to the open air and only concealed from view by this short dress.
“Hurry up, Bimbo. I’ll explain in the car” she said, beaming brightly as she made her way downstairs.
I looked down, confronted by an eyeful of cleavage that seemed to totally take up my vision. I reached down and tried to lift up the dress to better cover it, only to yelp slightly when I felt the bottom rise. If I tried to get my chest more coverage, I increased my odds of a wardrobe malfunction down below. If I tried to pull it down to feel safer down below, I increased the odds of a wardrobe malfunction up top.
“I said hurry, ditz!”
I followed her down the hall, muttering curses to myself as I tried to catch up.
BOUNCE
BOUNCE
BOUNCE
BOUNCE
BOUNCE
I really was going to kill her after this…
We got to the garage and I took my place on the passenger side, looking to find her staring at me.
“Honey…” she said in a bit of a condescending, but still shockingly genuine way. “You can’t get in and out of cars like that.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Huh?”
“Both legs together. Not one at a time. Or else everyone gets to see your new brand new pussy.”
I facepalmed. She was right, but I certainly didn’t need her pointing it out like that. “Noted…”
“Good. Now read” she said, pressing the button for the garage door and pulling out. I glanced down and saw the paper slowly shifting, letters forming out of nothing beneath the lesson title.
Lesson 2: Gold Digging, Free Drinks and Becoming a Trophy
This lesson will focus on the most important element of being a gold digging trophy: using your feminine wiles to get what you want. As our bimbo expert Thomas often says, a hot girl doesn’t need to work or bring any value to society. She just has to milk her beauty for material and monetary gain. This assignment will test your ability to do just that.
Bimbos will be tasked with getting three separate patrons to buy them drinks, and then having their favorite of the sugar mommas or sugar daddies buy them an uber (though whether the uber is set for the bimbo’s house or the patron’s is up to them. Just use protection if it's the latter.)
I facepalmed again. At least I was getting good enough with the nails to do it without scratching my face. Heather snickered, probably realizing what section of the assignment I’d just read. Then, I read the end.
Bimbos have one hour to complete the task. Both male and female patrons are fine, but be advised that males will be easier. And be mindful of behavior (flashing, etc) that will get you kicked out of the club.
The club…
I looked up as Heather pulled up to the most exclusive, wild and disreputable club in town, known as the place where the hot young people went to have too good of a time. I’d never been here myself, but being here as Victoria made me feel a sudden rush of nerves. I knew how they’d see me once I was inside. I knew what I had to do. I knew…
“Come on!” said Heather, lightly smacking my thigh and heading out of the car. “Let’s go see if flirting’s that easy!”
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