“Hey!” Lauren greeted her friend, Kaitlyn looking up from where she was cleaning their table.

She looks good, the brunette thought.

Lauren did. Even with her hair still mussed from sleep and lacking the makeup that the blonde habitually wore lately she still looked attractive. Beautiful even.

Kaitlyn’s hand reached into the pocket of the apron of her maid’s outfit and drew her phone out. She didn’t notice what she was doing.

God, she really looks…

A shot of arousal spread from Kaitlyn’s centre, sharp and needy. She didn’t realise that she’d opened an app on her phone, without even taking her eyes off her friend. An app she didn’t remember having. Had pushed a button on that app. Had slipped her phone away.

She’d been doing that for days and hadn’t noticed once.

Whoa… She… I…

Words swirled at the edge of her consciousness. Words that she couldn’t quite grasp.

Women turn me on. I want sex with women. I’m a lesbian.

The thoughts were just out of reach. But the feelings gripping her body were clear. She was so turned on. Lauren was so pretty. Kaitlyn could just…

She’d had feelings like that so often lately. So many times each day. She’d see a pretty girl and…

Kaitlyn didn’t want to think about it. She wasn’t like that.

God, Lauren was so pretty.

“Are you, like, cleaning?” Lauren asked.

“Yes,” Kaitlyn replied softly. What does she think I’m doing? She’s taking this bimbo thing a bit far. No, no. A good maid doesn’t even think things like that.. “Sorry … miss.”

Her friend was staring at Kaitlyn in bafflement. “Oh, right.” The blonde smiled and giggled and twirled her hair. “You must have, like, got up super early.”

“Yes, miss,” Kaitlyn replied. That felt good. Replying like a good submissive maid. Softly, eyes downcast. Just glancing up to look at who she was speaking to. Lauren was very pretty. Very. Something about her…

Kaitlyn didn’t want to think about that.

“Did you read the message from the professor?” Lauren asked, the blonde’s voice strangely flat.

“Yes,” Kaitlyn replied. There was a message. She had read it. After putting on her maid’s outfit. “Boys are awful.”

She didn’t notice that her voice was now as flat as her friend’s.

“Boys are awful,” Lauren echoed back.

Kaitlyn went back to cleaning. She forgot all about the exchange. She didn’t forget how attractive Lauren was.

Or what she’d felt gazing at her friend.

Kaitlyn’s body stiffened as another jolt of arousal shot through her. It was later that day, the brunette heading to a class. She didn’t realise that she’d had her phone out. Had pressed her finger to the screen. Was slipping the phone away. All she felt was arousal and embarrassment, her eyes fixed on a girl. She didn’t even know who the girl was.

She’s pretty.

Kaitlyn didn’t want to think about that. Or how hard her nipples were. Or how wet her pussy was.

She didn’t get much from her class. She tried concentrating on her work but her eyes would drift. To the pretty redhead over to the left. To the attractive, stylish brunette down the front of the class. To other girls in the class. The pretty ones. The attractive ones. The ones that someone who was into women would desire. Something she didn’t want to think about would shoot through her body. Something hot and electric and needy.

I’m not like that.

She couldn’t stop thinking about the girls. How they’d turn their heads just so. How’d they’d smile. How their bodies curved. How their breasts…

She could clean for them. Fetch things.

Be a maid.

Maybe that was it. Being a maid turned her on. Kaitlyn knew that. It always had. And she was doing the project for the professor. Which meant being a maid for women. Well, specifically one woman, the professor, to be safe. But the project was about reclaiming the stereotypes for women. Plural. So it was only natural that she’d think about being a maid for other women. Attractive, desirable women, with gorgeous eyes and kissable lips and mouth-watering breasts and-

No!

She was just getting confused. That was all. Being a maid turned her on. Hard. More than anything else did. She’d always been like that. So if she thought about being a maid for a woman then it was understandable that the idea would turn her on and that she might be a bit confused. Right? Right?

Kaitlyn lost her train of thought as her eyes slipped to the redhead again, the girl flashing a bright smile to the girl sitting next to her, another jolt of arousal gripping the brunette. The girl was so pretty, Kaitlyn could just imagine kissing her neck, her lips slipping lower to wrap around…

Some words threatened to bubble up from her subconscious. She could almost understand them.

It just had to be confusion. It would be so good to be a maid for the girl. Stand by the girl’s side, in her maid’s outfit, and wait to be told what to do. Maybe the girl would want Kaitlyn to fetch a drink. Or vacuum the floor. Or polish her shoes. While she wore them.

Kaitlyn’s thighs pressed together, the images leaving her melting.

Maybe the girl would tell her to cum.

That would be so good. Kaitlyn couldn’t remember the last time she had cum. That didn’t matter. A good maid only came when she was told to. That was so hot. The girl telling her to cum would be so hot. Maybe Kaitlyn would sneak a glance at the curve of the girl’s chest when she did cum and…

I’m not like that, Kaitlyn told herself again. Even as another jolt of arousal coursed through her as she left the class, her eyes fixed on the curve of the girl’s arse where it lay under that short skirt.

Maybe she’d get to iron that skirt. Press the iron lovingly into the fabric, her knees trembling as arousal bubbled through her. Knowing what that fabric would hug.

That would be so good.

The rest of the day passed in a haze, Kaitlyn furtively eyeing attractive girls, her arousal spiking every time. She didn’t cum.

Mustn’t, mustn’t cum.

But she did think about serving them, being a maid for them. Fetching and carrying. Cleaning. Ironing their clothes. Carefully, so carefully folding those clothes, clothes that adorned those beautiful bodies, that hugged those bodies so tightly…

Kaitlyn almost came then. But she didn’t. A good maid didn’t cum unless she was allowed to. So hot to only cum when she was allowed to. So hot to think of being a maid. So hot to think of pretty girls and what they could get her to do.

No!

Kaitlyn held on to that protest. Clung to it. She wasn’t like that. No matter how much the sight of pretty girls had her in a constant state of arousal. No matter how much her breasts ached for attention. No matter how wet she was.

It was just that she wanted to be a maid. Needed it. Craved it. It was all she wanted.

As soon as she was back at the rooms that she shared with her friend, Kaitlyn was back in her maid’s outfit. She needed to wash, to clean, to iron, to do all the things that a maid would do.

It turned her on so much.

“OMG! You’re, like, cleaning again?”

Kaitlyn spun around at the sound of her friend’s voice. Lauren stood framed in the doorway, a look of confusion etched on her pretty features. The sight of her had raw, desperate arousal shooting through the brunette’s body.

She didn’t realise that she’d pulled her phone out, touched the screen, put the phone away. Didn’t notice that Lauren had done the same.

“Yes, miss,” Kaitlyn replied softly. “I’m cleaning. Is there anything you need me to do?”

Lauren must have thought there was something funny about that. At least, that’s what Kaitlyn surmised, as her friend smiled and giggled and twirled her hair. As the blonde’s eyes raked over her body. “Um, like, er, no?”

“I’ll get dinner soon,” Kaitlyn declared. That’s what a good maid would do. “How was your day?”

---

Earlier that day

Lauren’s day had begun with seeing Kaitlyn in her maid’s outfit. “She looks, like, so maidy in that outfit. And hot.” Lauren didn’t remember how the times she had pulled her phone out while looking at her friend before leaving their rooms. Didn’t remember bringing up a certain app. Didn’t remember pushing a button on the app. Didn’t remember it at all. She did remember how aroused the sight of her friend had made her.

She’d made herself get ready. She had classes. Right? She was sure that she did. Classes were important. Lauren wasn’t too sure why. She needed to go to them. For some reason. It had been harder and harder, over the last few days, keeping her thoughts on her studies. Keeping any thoughts. She had to go.

Maybe just to look at the pretty girls.

That wasn’t right. She had to study. She wasn’t really a bimbo. She was just pretending to be one. For the project. Even if it was so easy to act like one. Just like it was so easy to look at her friend.

“She’s super yummy.”

“Did you say something?”

Lauren glanced at the girl she’d just run into. Or had run into her. “Er, like, no?” Wow, the girl was pretty. Blonde, like Lauren, and those jeans were tight and the top outlined her tits and if it cut just a bit lower… She didn’t realise that she’d pulled out her phone again. She did feel the flush of arousal.

She’d felt that so many times over the last few days.

“You’re cute!” Lauren blurted.

“Bimbo!” the girl muttered, before storming off.

I’m not, like, a bimbo, Lauren huffed. I’m just, you know, pretending to be one. Ooh, that’s a long word! She was just pretending, even if it did feel so good to pretend to be one. Hot and fun and hot and had she thought the same thing twice there? It didn’t matter.

It also didn’t matter if the girl thought that Lauren was a bimbo. Maybe it was better if she did think that. Lauren was supposed to be acting like a bimbo. That’s all it was, acting, she tried to tell herself. And she was supposed to be doing it for women. So if a woman thought she was a bimbo, that was good, right?

Like looking at hot girls was good. There was no denying how aroused she felt every time she looked at a pretty girl. Her nipples would get hard, well, harder. They seemed to be hard the whole time. She felt so horny. Her pussy was, like, literally dripping. Girls were so hot. Isn’t that, like, sort of, gay?

Maybe she was gay. There were words at the back of her mind.

Women turn me on. I want sex with women. I’m a lesbian.

“I’m a lesbian,” Lauren whispered. “Like, am I?”

“What was that? Oh who cares, shush,” the girl next to her in class muttered. A pretty girl with dirty blonde hair and great legs and…

Wow, like, maybe I’m, like, you know, a lesbian. There wasn’t anything wrong with that. Not that Lauren could see, anyway. She didn’t care how much or how quick of a change it was. And how could she deny it, anyway? Every time she looked at a pretty girl, her body almost exploded in need. Her eyes slipped to the TA taking her class, attractive and dark-haired and Lauren could just imagine getting busy with her.

Another jolt of arousal shot through the blonde’s body. She didn’t realise that she was already slipping her phone away. Didn’t even realise that she’d had it out.

I could be hot for hot girls. Who could be, you know, hot for me. That would be super hot.

Girls were just so hot. Maybe that was something she could take away from this project. And if she was into girls it defs made it easier to play at being a bimbo for them. Bat her eyelids and cock her hips and maybe thrust her chest out. Not that she did that last one much. It was like, slutty. She was a bimbo, um, playing at being a bimbo. Not a slut. So she only did it to the few who eyed her back.

It was hot though.

“Why are you fiddling with your phone so much?”

“Am not!” Lauren protested. She was sitting with her friends. Having lunch. God, her friends were pretty. She’d never realised it before. So, so pretty. Legs that went on for days and super hot bods and juicy hot lips and…

Maybe I am, like, gay.

“You are,” another of her friends insisted. Lauren spun around, gazing into her yummy eyes. “You’ve been getting it out and putting it away ever since we sat down.”

“Have not!” Lauren insisted again.

“I swear she’s been worse this week. What the hell has gotten into you?”

“Leave it,” another insisted. “She’s still going through her bimbo phase, so she probably doesn’t remember. I mean, look at what she’s wearing.”

Lauren preened at that, which just had her friends rolling their eyes.

It didn’t stop them being attractive. It would be so easy to kiss them. They were so kissable. Hot and yummy and there were images of Lauren sliding her hands over her friend’s bodies. Of her hands finding their yummy boobies. Of sliding her fingers up smooth legs and-

Um, maybe I shouldn’t think that way about my friends. None of them were gay. At least, not that she knew of. They’d talk about boys.

Boys are awful.

Lauren wasn’t sure were that thought had come from. But it made sense, in a way. If she was a lesbian, then she would think that boys were awful.

She didn’t want to think about it too much. It hurt her head. But she did make herself look away from her friends. The barista was cute. Super cute. Totally adorbs, with long brown hair and big eyes and a body with yummy curves that would look super hot in the cutest little bikini.

The girl’d look even hotter out of it. God, her boobies looked so super yummy under her uniform.

Arousal pulsed through Lauren’s body. And something more.

Did I, like, just, um, cum?. Embarrassment flushed through the blonde. She couldn’t deny what she’d just felt.

Bimbos get to cum a lot. That was true. Lauren wasn’t sure how she knew it, but she knew it.

Bimbos get to cum lots when they have sex. Lauren knew that was true as well.

Lauren’s friends weren’t into girls but maybe the barista was. There had been that way she’d looked at Lauren when she handed over the blonde’s coffee. Maybe Lauren could go get another coffee and smile and preen and the girl would smile back and maybe…

There was an image of the two of them naked. Lauren wasn’t sure that was a good idea. She didn’t know the girl. Bimbos made silly decis- disci- choices. So if she was acting like a bimbo, maybe she would too. But maybe she should, because that would mean was acting more like a bimbo. Lauren’s head hurt. She wasn’t sure what she should do. A thought bubbled up.

I want someone to tell me who to have sex with.

Maybe that was for the best. It would help keep her safe. And it felt right. It felt more than right.

Being told who to have sex with turns me on.

It did. She was even more turned on than she’d been a moment before. Which meant she might get a bit silly.

When I’m a bimbo, Professor Mackenzie decides who I have sex with.

That sounded like a good idea. And sort of hot, too. Maybe just a game. Not like she really meant it. Not like the professor would know. But it would mean that Lauren wouldn’t make any silly decisions. She’d be safe. Safe playing at being a bimbo.

She was only playing.

Right?

“She’s doing it again.”

“I’m doing, like, what again?” Lauren made herself say, tearing her attention away from the barista.

“Your phone,” one of her friends tutted. “Never mind. We need to get going.”

“Uh, why?” Lauren asked, genuinely confused.

“Next class,” her friend sighed. “Although the way you are, I’m not sure going will do you any good. You need to get over this bimbo act.”

Lauren stared at her friend for a moment, her thoughts refusing to process. Her head felt so empty.

At least it didn’t hurt.

Oh, right. She did have another class. She’d totally forgotten it. Which was a total airhead thing. Lauren smiled and giggled and twirled her hair. Which only had her friend rolling her eyes again.

I’m only acting at being a bimbo, Lauren tried to tell herself. Even if her attention kept wandering through the class. Until it landed on a pretty girl. She had no idea what the TA was saying. Every time she tried to concen-, concun, um, listen, it made no sense to her. Looking at pretty girls was sooooo much easier. Like super easy. Pretty girls were soooo easy to look at.

Looking at them turned her on so much.

So easy that when she got home it was just so easy to look at her friend.

Kaitlyn’s question barely registered.

That Lauren was putting her phone away didn’t register at all. The jolt of arousal did.

“Like, um, what?”

“How was your day?” Kaitlyn repeated, meekly.

“Oh, it was super great!” Lauren beamed excitedly. “It was total fun, just hanging around campus. Like, there are so many-”

She’d been about to say how many hot girls there were. Which her friend probably didn’t want to know about. And maybe she should talk about her classes. Not that she could really remember them.

I’m only playing at being a bimbo.

That didn’t mean that she should ignore her studies. She wasn’t really a bimbo. She didn’t want to be one.

I want to be a bimbo.

She didn’t, not really. She just wanted to pretend to be one. For the project.

Thinking about anything other than what bimbos think about makes my head hurt.

Well, that was sort of true. Thinking about anything else was super hard.

I love being a bimbo. Being a bimbo turns me on.

It was fun. And it did turn her on. Like looking at pretty girl turned her on.

It was all so confusing.

Lauren smiled and giggled and twirled her hair.

Kaitlyn didn’t say anything.

The blonde headed to her computer. Maybe she could get some work done. Maybe, if she was really lucky, her head wouldn’t hurt so much.

“Come on, you stupid computer-thingy,” she muttered, trying to remember how to turn it on. For some reason she just couldn’t.

“Katy!” she called. “My stupid thingy won’t turn on!”

Kaitlyn was at her side before Lauren realised it. The brunette pushed a button. Oh, that’s right, that one. Stupid thingy.

“There you are, miss,” Her friend spoke so quietly. Totally maidy. “Will there be anything else.?”

“Uh…”

Lauren brought up her messages. She at least remembered how to do that. There was one from the professor.

Both girls read it.

“We need to see the professor,” Lauren said, not realising how flat her voice was.

“We do.” Kaitlyn’s voice was just as flat.

“It’s important.”

“It is.”

“For the project.”

“For the project.”

Lauren shook her head. She was staring at the screen, her thoughts nothing but a fog. A yummy pink fog that felt so good. Something was telling her that she shouldn’t feel like that. Maybe she’d try to do some work later. But right now it felt so good.

I’m not really a bimbo.

Was that true?

Maybe seeing the professor was the best idea. Lauren trusted Professor Mackenzie. She was sure the professor would help her sort everything out.

(To be continued)