Embrace It

Part 2

Not for those under 18 (or whatever the legal age for this sort of stuff is in your area). If you’re not that old, Boo! Go away now. If you are offended by graphic descriptions of sexual activities, especially non-consensual ones, then don’t read this. All characters and situations are fictional.

Copyright 2025 greyscribbler@yahoo.com

Archived on the Read Only Mind web site by permission of the author. This story may be downloaded for personal archiving as long as this notice is retained.

Lauren blinked, before rubbing her temple and trying to will her slight headache away. She’d been sitting in front of her screen for so long. She didn’t mind. She wanted to do this project.

There was so much to study. So much to learn. She’d thought that studying bimbos would be easy. They were simple, superficial, right? Maybe that’s why she’d chosen them as her subject. Because it would be easy. She had chosen them, hadn’t she? That was the choice she’d wanted to make, right from the start. From when Professor Mackenzie had sent her the list. Well, maybe not right from the start, Lauren remembered agonising over her choice. But it had been the bimbo, hadn’t it? That’s what she’d gone to the professor’s office wanting to do.

Of course it was.

She remembered telling Professor Mackenzie that was her choice. The professor being so pleased with her.

That was how it had been.

But she hadn’t expected there to be so much to learn. She’d thought a bimbo was just, well, a bimbo. Dumb and vapid and slutty and just concerned with how they looked. But it wasn’t that easy. Some were into plastic surgery, with the exaggerated bee-stung lips and fake breasts.  Some even had ribs removed to go for the real barbie-doll look. But some were more natural, innocent and fresh-faced. Wide-eyed. Then there was lack of intelligence. The true stereotype was totally dumb, but some just acted dumb. Some girls took the look but weren’t stupid at all. Lauren had spent hours reading the literature around Legally Blonde.

Everything about them fascinated her. How they looked, how they acted. Not that she wanted to be like them. But she couldn’t let the ideas go, it was almost an obsession. Lauren was never going to tell anyone that, not even the professor. It was her little secret.

She was so lucky to be doing this project.

But she still had to work out how to do it. Maybe list all the varieties? Define some characteristics and how they varied? Start from the basic dumb stereotype and work from there?

Lauren’s train of thought was broken by the sound of a vacuum cleaner starting up. “Kaitlyn!” she cried. “What the hell? How am I supposed to think with that thing going?”

“Oh, sorry,” her friend replied, switching the machine off. “But this place does need cleaning.”

Lauren was prepared to admit that. But since when had they even owned a vacuum cleaner? “When did we get that? And why are you bothering? You never want to clean.” It was always a fight getting her friend to help keep their student accommodation moderately tidy.

Kaitlyn turned to look at her, Lauren’s friend’s expression oddly blank. “You need to read the message from Professor Mackenzie.”

“What?” Lauren frowned. There hadn’t been a message. She’d checked. She’d have read it if there had been.

“You need to read the message from Professor Mackenzie,” her friend repeated. There was something empty about Kaitlyn’s voice, almost mechanical. But the words ate their way into Lauren’s head, spread through her mind. She sat there, somehow aware that her lips had parted. Shouldn’t she move? Do something?

“You need to read the message from Professor Mackenzie.”

“I need to read the message from Professor Mackenzie.” That was what was important. That was what she had to do. Lauren turned back to her computer, pulled up her messages. Sure enough, there was one there, from the professor. Unread. How had she missed that? It didn’t matter. She needed to read it now.

“You need to read the message from Professor Mackenzie,” Kaitlyn repeated again.

It didn’t matter that her friend kept saying the same words. It didn’t matter how empty Kaitlyn sounded. Lauren needed to read the message.

Hello Lauren the message began. There were more words, but Lauren couldn’t focus on them. Her eyes were drawn to the lines. Lines that shifted and spun. Forming a shape.

A spiral.

There was a voice, Professor Mackenzie’s voice.

“Watch the screen.”

Of course Lauren would do that. This was about the project. She wanted to do the project.

“Relax.”

Maybe she should relax. Maybe she’d do better work if she relaxed. The professor was telling her to relax.

“Let your thoughts slip away.”

That didn’t sound right. Didn’t she need to think to do her work? But the spiral was there, drawing her in. And the professor was telling her to let her thoughts lip away. She trusted the professor.

“Watching the spiral.”

Lauren could do that.

There were more words. But there were no thoughts in Lauren’s head. So she didn’t register the words. Not so that she’d remember. But they were there. In the empty space that was her mind.

---

Lauren blinked. There was the sound of a vacuum cleaner. “How am I supposed to work on my project when you’re doing that!” she protested, her friend busily pushing the machine back and forth.

Not that it was any surprise. Kaitlyn was usually the one who took responsibility for keeping their student accommodation clean.

What? Was that right? Lauren seemed to remember other things. Arguing with Kaitlyn, forcing her to do her share. Had she already said something to her friend about the noise? And where had they got that new vacuum cleaner…?

The thoughts slipped away. Had never been there. Of course Kaitlyn did the cleaning.

She always did the cleaning.

“Like, how am I supposed to do this project with the noise!”

“Sorry,” her friend apologised.  “I…” Kaitlyn frowned, looking in confusion between herself and the vacuum cleaner. “When did we…?”

Lauren knew what that meant. She knew what she had to do when Kaitlyn looked confused, in just that way. She didn’t know how she knew, but she knew.

“You need to read the message from Professor Mackenzie.”

Lauren didn’t know how she knew to say those words. Didn’t care how flat her voice sounded. None of that mattered. She had to say them.

Kaitlyn looked at her, a frown half-formed on the brunette’s face.

“You need to read the message from Professor Mackenzie,” Lauren repeated.

Kaitlyn nodded, slowly. She looked so fragile. Empty. Just waiting for what Lauren had to say.

“You need to read the message from Professor Mackenzie.”

“I need to read the message from Professor Mackenzie.”

Without another word, the brunette pivoted and headed to her room.

Lauren turned back to her computer. Had she said something to Kaitlyn? Had her friend replied? No, they hadn’t spoken to each other. Lauren was sure she would have remembered if they had.

“I need to do some more cleaning,” Kaitlyn announced brightly sometime later, almost bouncing from her room. Lauren had been engrossed in her project. There was just so much to learn about bimbos. Who knew?

And if she found it all just a little fascinating, then that was her little secret.

Lauren didn’t pay too much attention to what her friend was doing. Kaitlyn was the one who did the cleaning.

She always had been.

I’ve done some more cleaning,” Kaitlyn said, emerging from Lauren’s room sometime later. The brunette was carrying a large garbage bag. There was a flush to Kaitlyn’s cheeks. Lauren didn’t even think about why it was there. “I just need to take this trash out.”

There couldn’t be that much rubbish from her room. Some of it had to Lauren’s things. “What hav-”

Kaitlyn cut her off. “You need to read the message from Professor Mackenzie,”

Lauren didn’t even reply. Something in those words made perfect sense to her. Of course she needed to read the message. She turned back the screen. Brought up the message. Were there any words? There were lines, moving in front of her eyes, forming a shape. Was it a spiral?

Lauren couldn’t even form the thought.

After reading the message, Lauren went back to her work. She didn’t care any longer about the bag Kaitlyn had taken from her room. Hardly remembered it. It didn’t matter.

Her project did. She needed to send the professor an update. That was what the message had told her. She started writing it.

“I’m back!” Kaitlyn declared, Lauren’s friend standing in their doorway.  Lauren looked up. She hadn’t even realised that her friend had left. She’d been so engrossed in her study.

It wasn’t just that bimbos had to wear the right clothes. What they wore underneath that mattered too. Maybe it would be fun to dress like that. All feminine and pretty and…

No, Lauren didn’t want to do that. Studying bimbos was one thing. Dressing like them was something else, no matter how cute they looked.

Her friend was holding shopping bags. Lots of them. Lauren almost recognised the store they were from. Didn’t it sell racy lingerie…?

She turned back to her screen. Something told her that she didn’t have to worry about that.

Or that Kaitlyn took the bags into Lauren’s room.

She had to keep working on her project.

Her update for the professor wouldn’t write itself.

---

The next morning Lauren was confronted with an all-too-cheerful roommate.

“There’s another message from the Professor!” Kaitlyn announced as she cleaned their kitchen bench.

“Why are you cleaning something now?” Lauren asked.

“I always clean something in the morning!” Kaitlyn declared. “It’s important!”

Lauren could never understand her roommate’s obsession with cleaning.

“You should work on your project, it’s important,” Lauren insisted. “And not spend so much time cleaning.”

“It’s important that I work on my project,” Kaitlyn replied, momentarily straightening, an almost blank look in her eyes.

Lauren ignored that. And the way Kaitlyn’s lips parted ever so slightly with every swipe she took with the cleaning cloth.

The brunette shook herself. “I have been working on it,” Kaitlyn said. “It’s important. She wants to see us.”

That was important. Lauren spun around and headed to her computer. She barely heard Kaitlyn announcing that she’d prepare breakfast for the two of them. That could wait. She needed to read the message.

“Oh, God,” Lauren swallowed nervously after reading the message. Somehow, she couldn’t really remember what it said. There had been words. Had there been lines? A shape? That was just silly, there couldn’t have been. But even though she couldn’t really remember what the message said, she knew what it meant.

“She wants to see us.”

Have I done enough? I’m not ready for this.

“She wants to see us,” Kaitlyn echoed.

“We have to go,” Lauren said.

“We do.”

“As soon as we can.”

“But not until after breakfast,” Kaitlyn pointed out, already serving up the meal.

Lauren didn’t want to wait. She wanted to hurry off now. But she knew the time the professor had given. They’d just be hanging around outside Professor Mackenzie’s door if they left now. Even so, she was almost tempted. But something told her that this was important, too. That Kaitlyn needed to make their breakfast

Like she always did.

What? That wasn’t right. It wasn’t like Kaitlyn always made breakfast. They took turns and sometimes they skipped it, like students would and-

Kaitlyn always made them breakfast.

That was right. Lauren knew it. Her friend always made them breakfast. Served it up for them. Cleaned up. Lauren had given up trying to help ages ago. Kaitlyn just wouldn’t let her. So she sat there. As Kaitlyn put the toast and eggs and everything else in front of her. Ate it as they chatted away. Waited as Kaitlyn cleaned up.

“You need to go get ready,” her friend told her.

“I do,” Lauren nodded, slowly. They were going to see the professor. That was important.

“Don’t worry,” Kaitlyn said, already doing the washing up. “I’ll finish this up and then get ready. You always take longer than me.”

That was true too. Lauren did always take longer than Kaitlyn to get ready.

I do? Whatever thought had tried to form in Lauren’s mind died. It was true, she did take longer to get ready than Kaitlyn. She was didn’t know why it was true, but it was.

After a visit to the bathroom, Lauren returned to her room, slipped off her pyjamas and headed to her underwear drawer.

“Huh?” Lauren stared in confusion at the contents. These things weren’t hers. Couldn’t be hers. They were all lacy and delicate and she was sure that some of them were almost see-through. Where had al her underwear gone? Not that hers were bad. Comfortable, Practical. Some just a little bit risqué. For dates. If she felt like it. But not like this. She held up a black bra that would hardly cover anything and a yellow thong that was barely there and…

There was something. A memory. Of Kaitlyn taking a bag from her room. Another memory, of the shopping bags her friend had returned with when she’d gone out yesterday. It all looked so new.

“Kaitlyn, did you…?”

“You need to read the message from Professor Mackenzie.”

Lauren’s friend was standing in the doorway, the blank look in her eyes matching the empty sound of her voice.

“I need to ready the message from Professor Mackenzie,” Lauren replied. That her voice was empty as her friend’s didn’t even register. She didn’t notice that she just dropped the lingerie she was holding. Didn’t notice how her friend carefully picked them up and placed them back in the drawer after folding them.

She needed to read the message.

Lauren sat in front of her computer. She had so many messages form the professor now. It didn’t matter, she knew which one she had to read.

Lauren stood in front of her open lingerie drawer. For a moment a memory teased at her, that she’d been here before. Before Kaitlyn said something. Before she went to her computer… She shook her head. That was silly. She’d just come from breakfast. She had to get ready.

The blonde spent a moment perusing the drawer, filled to almost overflowing with all sorts of naughty little things. Of course they were hers. It was her one indulgence. She loved wearing lingerie. Loved the feel of it on her skin, like a dream. The silk and the satin and… Loved the feel of the straps. How tempting it looked. Even under her jeans and baggy tops. She wouldn’t wear anything else. What did it hurt, when no-one else knew?

It crossed her mind, just for a moment, that these were the sort of things that bimbos would wear. Lacy bras and barely-there thongs.  Black and white and purple and red and yellow and pink. Bustiers and garter belts and barely-there bras. It didn’t matter. Just because she wore lingerie like this, always wore lingerie like this, it didn’t make her a bimbo. But it was fun. A naughty little secret. Something she shared with the subjects of her project.

She could see why they wore things like this.

She loved them.

She picked out a set in red. Bra that cut so low. Thong that cut so high. Matching garter belt. It was always such fun to wear things like that under her casual clothes. No-one knew. No-one but her. It felt so good. Wearing such naughty things when no-one could tell. Carefully, she hitched the stockings to her garter belt, admired herself in the mirror.

No wonder she took longer than her friend to get ready.

Lauren slipped on her jeans and her loose top and her sneakers. Looked at herself in the mirror again. No-one would know what she had on underneath.

But she would.

---

“Well, girls,” Professor Mackenzie smiled. “How are your projects going?”

Lauren frowned, just slightly. That the professor was asking them about their projects made sense. But should she be calling them girls? Wasn’t that demeaning? Hadn’t that been part of the course she’d done with Professor Mackenzie? How language could be used to demean women? And was there something about the professor’s smile? Thin and knowing and just a little bit predatory…

No, there couldn’t be anything wrong. She trusted the professor.

“Ah, good,” the blonde ventured cautiously.

“I have read your updates.”

Lauren was on edge. She hoped that the professor was satisfied with what she’d written. She was sure that it wasn’t enough. She hadn’t really made any decisions. She still didn’t know how to organise all her thoughts.

“But perhaps before we talk about those, you should watch this.” The professor was turning her screen. There were words on it. Lauren couldn’t take them in. Her attention was held by the screen. By the lines on it. How those lines formed a shape, a shape that was so familiar.

“Just watch the screen,” the professor smiled, that smile so thin. “And let your thoughts slip away.”

That was so easy now.

“So,” Professor Mackenzie said, Lauren blinking. Had the screen been facing her? It was facing the professor now. So she couldn’t have been watching it. “Your updates. I’m very pleased. It’s only early days, so I don’t expect anything in the way of conclusions. I do have some comments though. Lauren, I wouldn’t try simply listing things. A little analysis would be appropriate. And Kaitlyn, some more on the historical development from you would be appropriate.

Both girls nodded eagerly. They had to do this project.

“But what really interested me was the more personal matters you included. Now, normally that wouldn’t be appropriate, but I think it this case it might be useful.

Personal? What? Lauren struggled to remember what she’d written. For some reason it was so hard to recall. She hoped that she hadn’t done something she shouldn’t. She didn’t want to disappoint the professor. Oh God, what if she’d written something embarrassing? She wanted her seat to swallow her up.

“Now, Lauren. You mentioned your underwear collection. Well, actually you used the word ‘lingerie’. That it was something a bimbo night have.”

Lauren sank further into her seat. Why had she mentioned that? It was her naughty little secret.

“And Kaitlyn, you mentioned how much you liked cleaning. Just like a maid.”

God, that was hardly a secret. So what if Kaitlyn liked cleaning? It was nothing compared to what Lauren had revealed. God, she was so embarrassed…

“And that cleaning gives you a little sexual thrill.”

Lauren spun to stare at her friend. Kaitlyn’s face was flushed with embarrassment. Not quite like the brunette’s face flushed when she was cleaning. Lauren had always thought that was exertion. But was it something else? From her flustered her friend looked, it must be. Why had she never realised?

It looked like her friend had her own little secret.

“Thank you both for your honesty. And don’t worry, I think this will actually help the project.”

Both girls sighed in relief. Even if they did shoot guilty little glances at each other.

“Um, help how?” Kaitlyn asked.

“I think we should add an ethnographic angle to the project, what do you say?”

“Ethnographic how?” Lauren wasn’t sure what the professor meant.

“You need to immerse yourselves in the experience. To understand your subjects.”

Immerse herself. In the bimbo experience? Was the professor saying she should act like one? Something in Lauren wanted to reject that. She didn’t want to be a bimbo. Or even pretend to be one.

The professor turned her screen around again.

Whatever Lauren was thinking disappeared. There were words and lines and shapes.

And images too. Of blondes in skimpy outfits and high heels. Brunettes in sexy maid outfits.

Her thoughts dribbled away as she stared at the screen.

“Stand up Lauren,” Professor Mackenzie ordered, the blonde rising from the seat, her eyes glued on the screen the whole time. “Let’s see what you choose from your collection.”

The older woman sighed as Lauren just stood there. “Of course you need a direct order. Take off your clothes. Leave your lingerie on.”

She almost had to laugh as Lauren removed her runners, delicate stocking-covered feet coming into view. But the sight was too arousing for mirth. Lauren truly was a vision.

The girl shucked off her top, her wonderful breasts offered up in the lacy red bra. Her jeans followed quickly, the girl just standing there.

Waiting.

Empty.

Professor Mackenzie rose languidly from her seat. Slipped around to the other side of her desk. She ran a hand over Lauren’s bare shoulder, over the red bra strap, the girl showing no reaction at all. The professor’s hand slid lower, down the girl’s back, lingering over the catch of her bra. It was so tempting to go further, take what she wanted.

Patience, the older woman told herself. She’d get everything she wanted, in time.

“You are gorgeous,” Professor Mackenzie, Natalie, muttered, standing in front of Lauren now, her finger tracing the edge of the girl’s bra. It was so hard to restrain herself, her fingernail slowing tracing a line over the top half of the girl’s breast. “And your eyes,” she said, peering into Luren’s blue orbs. “Beautiful. Even more beautiful empty like this. Wide and vacant and oh we will have such fun. Now just ignore everything until I snap my fingers, like a good empty-headed little bimbo.”

Casually, Natalie resumed her seat, crossing her legs and placing her clasped hands on her knees. She leant forward, peering at Lauren’s friend. “Kaitlyn. You said in your update that cleaning gives you a little trill. Is that right?”

“Yes.’ The word slipped between the girl’s lips. No emotions, nothing, the brunette’s eyes fixed on the screen. Her mind nowhere at all.

“Almost right. You’re going to find that thrill growing. Cleaning, cooking. Anything a maid does. You’re going to find it such a turn on. It’ll be your fetish. It’ll turn you on as much as a good bit of a foreplay. And we know how much we women like foreplay. Your little nipples will get so hard, and your little pussy so wet. But you won’t cum. That would be so embarrassing. And not at all what a good maid would do. So you’ll just stew away. You’ll enjoy that.”

Natalie snapped her fingers. “Lauren get dressed and sit back down.” She would have happily let the girl stay in her current state. Hell, she’d have happily ripped that underwear off, thrown the girl against the wall and taken her. But Lauren wasn’t ready for that. Not yet.

“Girls, I want you to repeat a few things. And as you repeat them, they’ll sink into your little brains. You’ll accept them. Believe them. Never question them. Now, repeat after me. ‘I trust Professor Mackenzie’.”

“I trust Professor Mackenzie.” The two voices were in perfect synchronisation.

“I will accept whatever she suggests for my project.”

“I will accept whatever she suggests for my project.” Those voices were so flat, empty. Just like their faces. Their eyes.

Their minds.

Natalie loved it.

“I’ll want to do what she suggests.”

“I’ll want to do what she suggests.” The words slipped from the girl’s lips. No hesitation. Not even the slightest hint of resistance. Their eyes were fixed on the spiral on the screen. Eyes that were so wide. So empty. The words would be seeping into their minds. Imprinting themselves there.

“Now keep repeating all that.”

“I trust Professor Mackenzie.”

“I will accept whatever she suggests for my project.”

“I’ll want to do what she suggests.”

Natalie watched, a smile of satisfaction creeping over her lips.

---

“Yes. Understanding your subjects by sharing some of their experiences.,” the professor smiled. “Don’t you agree?”

Lauren nodded eagerly. She could see Kaitlyn doing the same. Of course it was a good idea. Professor Mackenzie mad such good suggestions. She’d accept whatever the professor suggested.

She wanted to do this project.

“I have some funds to support this work,” the professor continued. “Kaitlyn, I think you should buy an outfit. You know what I mean.”

Lauren’s friend’s cheeks flushed again, but she didn’t object.

“And Lauren, you might need a more extensive wardrobe. But don’t worry, the funds I have will cover it.”

“You mean,” Lauren whispered, her head spinning.

“Yes. Dresses. Skirts. Tops. Short and revealing. Just like a bimbo would wear. And shoes. With high heels.”

Lauren’s eyes shot wide. Could she? Buy things like that? Wear things like that. She couldn’t. It would be so embarrassing. It wasn’t her, was it?

“Of course, I’m not asking you to act like a bimbo Lauren. Or be as submissive as the stereotypical French maid Kaitlyn. That wouldn’t be right. But I think this will help your understanding of your subjects. Don’t you agree.”

Lauren nodded again. Of course the professor’s suggestions were good. Even so…

There were images in her head. She didn’t know where they’d come from. Of someone, her, in short dresses and high heels. Pretty things, in pink and white. Lacy and frilly and revealing. Things that matched her lingerie. Things her lingerie deserved. Wouldn’t it be fun to try? She didn’t know where that idea had come from. It didn’t matter. It was there. Letting people see the stockings she wore.

She was so aware of what she was wearing now. Under her jeans and top. Wouldn’t it better if she wore clothes that matched? Even if just for a little while. It wasn’t like she was going to change her style forever.

It was just for the project.

She needed do the project.

And the professor was suggesting it. She wanted to do what the professor suggested. It didn’t matter why.

She’d do what the professor suggested.

It was important.

(To be continued)