Wendy was worried. Something strange was happening.

She examined her face in the bathroom mirror. She looked younger, more vibrant. Her skin was clearer, her lips were fuller—she was practically glowing. Her chestnut brown hair was longer and thicker—silkier and more voluminous. Her eyes sparkled with a newfound brightness. Even her posture seemed to have improved.

The changes in her body were becoming increasingly noticeable. Her figure had become more voluptuous, with a fuller frame and shapelier curves. Her hips, chest, and rear had all grown more pronounced. When she went to buy new bras, the employee suggested measuring her chest. To her surprise, her bust was nearly two sizes larger.

“I must be pregnant…”

It was the only thing that made sense. But all three of the pregnancy tests she took came back negative. Besides, up until this weekend, it’d been nearly two months since she and her husband last had sex.

Speaking of which, her libido was becoming increasingly overwhelming. Wendy's sex drive had always been below average, especially after turning thirty.

Typically, she would go weeks without feeling the urge for intimacy, something her husband always found frustrating. But now, it was impossible to make it through the day without climaxing several times. The constant arousal was becoming more and more distracting.

But it felt incredible. The weekend had been filled with amazing sex with her husband.

"If it was always that great, I would've been having sex every day,” she thought. Even the self-love sessions with her hand felt better than ever.

Wendy's new attitude was apparent to all her coworkers. Feeling more playful and carefree, she pranced around the office, giggling and twirling her hair—a stark contrast to her typically stern and serious demeanor.

Then there were her new outfits. It began with a V-neck and a long skirt, a departure from her usual attire. Wendy loved the attention so much that a simple bra shopping trip turned into a spree of buying new clothes. Each outfit was more daring than the last.

But the biggest and most troubling change was the new feelings she had developed toward her boss, Mr. Williams.

Wendy had always been contemptuous of the cocky young hotshot. He was a smug womanizer who surrounded himself with attractive women and yes-men. He couldn't stand anyone speaking out against him, especially Wendy, seeming particularly bothered by her.

Wendy knew she could be stubborn and idealistic, but she refused to fall in line, even at the risk of losing her job. Being a strong female role model for her young daughter had always been important to her, no matter what.

But over the past week, something strange was happening. It was becoming impossible not to always agree with her boss. Not just in a “sure, whatever you say,” kind of way, but truly finding his ideas reasonable and correct, even on matters she had previously disagreed with.

Had Mr. Williams finally worn her down after months of conflict, or was she just now realizing that she had been wrong this whole time?

Wendy was desperate to not become another ass-kissing yes-man for her arrogant boss, but somehow, that was exactly what was happening to her.

Worst of all was the arousal. There was something about him that turned her on beyond all control—a kind of animalistic manliness that seemed to have awoken her most primal urges.

The months of arguments and disagreements had created a strong sexual tension between them, coursing through her entire body. After being purposefully defiant for so long, now every time Wendy agreed with him, it triggered a feeling of horny submissiveness deep inside her. It felt so satisfying to comply and follow her boss’s orders. His commanding presence made her feel like such a silly, obedient, little girl. Resisting the urge to give in was becoming harder each day.

Throughout her life, Wendy had always gotten her way, stubbornly wearing down the men in her life with her strong feminist ideals. So now, encountering a man who not only refused to back down, but even seemed to take pleasure in trying to tame her, was unexpectedly arousing.

She had always been like a wild horse, a free and independent spirit. Now, here was a man determined to ride her...

“Bad metaphor,” Wendy suddenly realized.

Thinking about it had conjured a fantasy of her on all fours with her boss dressed in a sexy cowboy outfit, fucking her into submission. Her fingers plunged into her soaking wet pussy at the thought of it.

“Yes, sir…” she moaned repeatedly, climaxing soon after.

As her conscious mind slowly returned, she couldn’t help but wonder: What the hell is wrong with me?

The fantasies were getting more and more intense. It was becoming impossible to think of anything but her boss. Even during the amazing sex with her husband that weekend—the whole time she was fantasizing about him. Wendy hated herself for it, feeling terrible about it afterwards, but she just couldn’t stop.

Wendy stared at the glossy pink cover of her book sitting on the bathroom counter. Everywhere she went, she took it with her.

“These changes began once I started reading this stupid book,” she thought. But that was just a coincidence, right?

It’s not the book, a vapid voice in her head reassured her. There’s nothing wrong with the book...

“It’s obviously not the book,” Wendy realized with a sigh of relief. “That’s ridiculous. There’s nothing wrong with it.”

But then what was causing all these new changes?

She wondered if she should take the day off work tomorrow. It certainly seemed like the smart decision with everything that was happening—but she couldn’t.

Good employees are always available for their boss.

Wendy loved being good employee…a good girl…a good bim—mmm, oh god that feels so good.

Despite having just pleasured herself, she was already horny again after fantasizing about her boss. Only this time, she needed more than just her fingers…she needed cock. Wendy went to go find her husband.

It’d been nice having their daughter away for the weekend, visiting Dan’s parents. It meant they were able to have sex as often and loudly as they wanted. It had been Julie’s idea. But now the weekend was almost over.

Wendy gazed at her husband, asleep in bed. Lately, he too seemed different—more confident, more assertive, and in control. Then there were things between him and Julie. At first, Wendy was uncomfortable with how close they were becoming, but after Julie explained things, she felt much better.

“There’s nothing inappropriate going on,” Julie calmly told her. “Nothing to worry about. Everything’s fine.”

Julie was right. Wendy realized it was ridiculous to get upset when she came home to find her husband giving her best friend a massage. Nothing wrong with that. It was perfectly acceptable.

And all their laughing, touching, and flirty behavior—that was normal too. Like Julie explained, she was her best friend, and best friends shared everything, even husbands…

But that didn’t mean they were having sex…right? That would be crossing the line, wouldn’t it?

Every day, it became more and more difficult for Wendy to think for herself. She found it easier to just relax and let others think for her. That way, there were no worries or anxiety—only happiness and pleasure. And that was all that mattered.

The next day at work, Wendy was disappointed to discover that her boss was away on a business trip for the next few days. She’d been looking forward to seeing his reaction to her new outfit, thinking about it all morning. His compliments on her appearance last week had filled her with a bubbly excitement, his words of approval echoing through her mind all day long.

Today’s outfit was her most daring yet: a long-sleeve purple V-neck with a generous amount of cleavage, and a tight black pencil skirt that highlighted her legs. It wasn’t as revealing as what some of other younger women in the office were wearing—but for the normally conservative mother, it was something new.

For instance, Mandy—Mr. Williams’ ditzy secretary—wore outfits that definitely crossed the line. However, what was allowed in Mr. Williams' office was very different from that of a typical workplace. He preferred his female employees to always look their best, allowing them much more freedom in what they wore. Looking good was the only thing that mattered to him.

Coincidentally, at that moment, there was a knock on her office door.

Wendy rolled her eyes as Mandy strutted in on her tall pink heels, carrying a folder full of papers. She looked ridiculous. Her massive breasts were bursting out of her short, revealing top. Every time she moved was a wardrobe malfunction waiting to happen. The skirt was so short it barely even covered her rear. The outfit would be risqué for a nightclub, let alone a professional office.

Wendy never understood how she could dress like that and not feel any embarrassment. It was unprofessional and disrespectful, not to mention distracting. No one was ever going to take her seriously looking like that. Not that Mandy minded, of course. She loved all the attention that she received from the men. Everything about the stylish young secretary’s outfit and attitude meant that everyone who saw her would only have one thing on their mind: sex.

“Mr. Williams needs you to sign these,” Mandy said cheerfully.

Wendy smiled politely. "Just leave them on my desk.”

"Oh my gosh!" Mandy exclaimed, her voice filled with excitement.

Wendy's heart sank as she realized what the bubbly blonde had spotted—the glossy pink cover of her book, peeking out of her purse.

“It’s not mine!” Wendy blurted out.

“Ohmygod, I love this book!” Mandy shrieked, quickly snatching the paperback.

Wendy was taken aback. “…You do?”

She couldn't picture Mandy reading any book, even one about “Unleashing Your Inner Bimbo.” The poor girl must have been drawn in by the flashy cover, not realizing it was mocking her vapid lifestyle.

"It's amazing," she gushed, eagerly flipping through the pages. "Like, totally life changing."

"I’ve read a little. It's certainly... interesting," Wendy replied cautiously.

Mandy spotted the bookmark nestled three-quarters of the way through the book. "Looks like more than just a little," she giggled.

Wendy blushed with embarrassment. “It’s for a book club…it’s not something I’d normally read.”

Mandy tilted her head. “A book club? Like a club where you read books? Like for fun?”

“Yeah?”

“Wow, that’s so cool! You must be, like, really smart.”

Wendy couldn’t tell if the ditzy secretary was mocking her, but her tone seemed sincere.

“You should totally keep reading!” Mandy urged. “You’re gonna love how it ends!” She stared at the book with a dazed expression, her eyes fixed on the pink cover.

“Mandy?”

The distracted blonde blinked a few times, refocusing her attention. She shivered, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the edge of the book. Mandy extended her arm, offering the book back. “Sorry. It’s just so…”

Wendy reached out to take the book but paused as her fingers brushed the cover, captivated by the secretary’s piercing blue eyes. After a few moments, she tucked the book back into her purse, feeling a strange flutter in her chest.

“Anyway, if you need anything, just let me know,” Mandy giggled. “Love your outfit, by the way! Super cute!”

Wendy couldn’t help but stare at the bubbly bimbo’s oversized behind as she strutted away, the lingering sensation still with her. She glanced at her watch.

“Time for a break,” she thought, her fingers eagerly sliding down her skirt.

For the rest of the evening, Wendy couldn’t stop thinking about her earlier interaction with Mandy. Being around her had stirred up a painful memory from her teenage years that she had long since forgotten.

In high school, Wendy tried befriending a few of the popular girls, only to face relentless mockery for her thrifted clothes, braces, lack of makeup, and love of books. She never heard the end of their teasing and cruel jokes. Afterwards, she convinced herself that she never wanted to be friends with them anyways. She told herself it was dumb to care about fashion, boys, or being popular, and that focusing on academic pursuits made her the better person. From then on, Wendy looked down on girls like them.

But instead of mocking her, Mandy was surprisingly friendly. It almost seemed to ease the sting of those painful teenage experiences to now be admired by a “popular girl” like her.

“This is ridiculous, I shouldn’t care about any of this,” Wendy sighed.

She didn’t want to admit how much she had enjoyed Mandy’s approval. Everyone in the office loved the cheerful secretary, whereas Wendy had earned a reputation as a stuck-up party pooper from her years of nagging and complaints.

Deep down, part of her wished she could be more likable—someone people enjoyed being around. Maybe Mandy could teach her how to be a little more popular.

Wendy went searching for her husband. It was late and she was horny. Last she checked, he and Julie had been watching TV in the living room, but when she went downstairs, they weren’t there.

Laughter was coming from the guest room. She walked over and held her ear up to the door.

“Dan?” she asked softly. The laughter stopped.

“Uh, just a minute,” he answered.

"No fair, I wanna have fun too!" Wendy giggled, instantly regretting how needy she sounded. Slowly, she opened the door.

Dan was in bed wearing only his boxers, while Julie straddled him in lacy yellow lingerie.

Wendy was confused. “What are you doing in here?”

A concerned expression filled Dan’s face. “Uh, well, Julie’s just…she, um—”

“I needed to get a man’s opinion on this new lingerie I bought,” Julie answered confidently.

Wendy's eyes narrowed. “Oh…”

That made sense, right? But something about it still felt… wrong. A wave of dizziness washed over her. Then she noticed Dan’s bulge straining against his boxers.

“Wait, what?” Wendy mumbled.

“Relax,” Julie said reassuringly. “Sit down, I’ll explain everything.”

Relax…

“Oh…sure, good idea,” Wendy replied. She was starting to feel dizzy. The room was spinning. Sitting down was a good idea.

Julie sat beside Wendy on the edge of the bed, gazing deeply into her eyes. It was only then that she noticed how bright Julie's big green eyes were.

“It’s perfectly normal for me to be around your husband in lingerie. That’s what close friends do,” Julie calmy stated.

“Oh… right,” Wendy murmured, trying to make sense of it. It was so hard to think clearly.

“Say it,” Julie commanded.

“…it’s normal for you to be around my husband in lingerie. It’s what close friends do.”

“Good.”

“But…why was he hard?”

Julie smiled. “Silly Wendy, it’s only natural for guys to be aroused by big boobs and butts.”

Wendy nodded. That also made sense. She’d always known that. She glanced over at Julie’s voluptuous body, far curvier than her own.

Julie had massive boobs and a huge bubble butt. Like a good bimbo should.

Wendy shivered as the word crossed her mind. Bimbo…

“Right, silly me,” she said, embarrassed for even asking. Julie was right. It was only natural for her husband to be attracted to her big boobs and butt. It’d be weird if he wasn’t.

“And I’m your best friend, right?” Julie asked.

Wendy nodded. “Right.”

“Which means you trust me completely.”

Without a moment's hesitation, she replied, "Completely."

Julie was her best friend. She trusted her completely.

“And best friends share everything,” Julie stated.

“Even husbands,” Wendy proudly added.

“Even husbands. Because Dan deserves a bimbo.”

“Huh?”

As if Julie could read her thoughts, she answered: “All men deserve a bimbo.”

“Oh…of course,” Wendy realized. That made sense. Julie was right.

Julie smiled as she watched Wendy's hips flex with arousal.

“It turns you on to see me with your husband, doesn’t it?” Julie asked.

Wendy squinted her eyes. “I’m…not sure...”

Something about that didn’t seem right. But if Julie said it, then it must be true. Julie was always right. And Wendy was becoming aroused.

“Besides, Dan’s not your type anyway,” Julie continued.

“…not my type? What do you mean? He’s…my husband.”

“Dan’s a nice guy. A gentleman. Always treating you with love and respect. But you’ve always found that boring, haven’t you?”

“…Have I?” Wendy asked in confusion.

“Don’t you remember? You’ve always been secretly attracted to guys who treat you like the silly little girl you are. You want a man who can put you in your place. A high value man. Cause high value men make Wendy horny.”

That sounded so…familiar. Where had she heard that before?

“Don’t think. Just listen. Now repeat,” Julie commanded.

Wendy obeyed, “need a man…treat me like a silly little girl…put me in my place.”

“Good girl. What else?”

“High value men make Wendy horny.”

“Again,” Julie said forcefully.

“High value men make Wendy horny,” she repeated more confidently.

“Good girl. Once more.”

Wendy bit her lip as a wave of arousal washed over her. She was so turned on. Julie was right. It all made so much sense. “High value men…make Wendy horny,” she moaned.

“Good girl. Maybe you’re not so dumb after all,” Julie said with a mocking smirk.

Wendy shivered with arousal. She loved to be praised. Her best friend’s approval meant everything to her.

“Maybe I’m not so dumb after all!” she excitedly thought.

“Now I want you to read another chapter of your book and think about everything we talked about.”

“B-but…I wanted to have sex with my husband tonight,” Wendy pouted.

“Not tonight—but if you keep being such a good girl, then maybe tomorrow I’ll let you. How’s that sound?”

Another shiver. “So good.”

“Good girl. I’m proud of you.”

A dumb smile washed over Wendy’s face. She watched as Julie and her husband left the room together. She looked around for her book, only to realize it had been in her hands the entire time.

Chapter Nine: Be a Good Bimbo

Bimbos are ditzy. Bimbos are dumb.

Bimbos always wanna have fun.

Bimbos are good girls. Bimbos are submissive.

Be a good bimbo.

Wendy’s fingers slid down to her dripping wet pussy. She was so horny. She couldn’t wait any longer.

Dumb bimbos are fun bimbos.

Fun bimbos are horny bimbos.

Horny bimbos are sluts.

Be a good bimbo.

A vapid smile filled Wendy’s face as she fantasized about Julie fucking her husband—her big bimbo tits bouncing with each thrust. The idea was so…hot! Imagining her husband forcefully pounding her best friend while she screamed his name. His strong hands on her wide hips using her huge ass as a cushion for his powerful thrusts.

Julie was a bimbo and all guys deserved bimbos—especially her husband.

Wait…no…something was wrong. Dan was her man. She shouldn’t be imagining him fucking other women—not even a bimbo like Julie.

…but Julie said…

…Julie said…

“Wendy’s too horny to think,” she giggled in a girly voice, and looked back down at the page. Her blurry vision made it appear like the words were all swirling around.

Dumb is good. Dumb is hot.

Bimbos are horny. Bimbos are ditzy.

Dumb bimbos are fun bimbos.

Be a good bimbo.

Dumb is good. Dumb is hot. Wendy could feel her mind getting dumber and dumber every day. Dumber and hornier and ditzier. It was good. It was hot. It was fun.

Julie was a bimbo, and bimbos could have any man they wanted—even her husband. She imagined Julie going down on her husband’s cock, expertly stroking and sucking.

“Julie’s my best friend…” Wendy moaned. “Best friends share everything…even husbands…like the silly little girl I am…high value men make Wendy horny…gotta make Julie proud…be a good bimbo…Julie’s always right…thank you Julie…thank y—mmmohgodthatfeelsogood.”

Bimbos love cock. It’s all they want.

Bimbos just wanna suck and fuck.

Be a good bimbo.

Feel your mouth watering for cock. You need to taste it.

Be a good bimbo

Wendy remembered what Julie told her. If she kept being a good girl, then maybe she would let her suck her husband’s cock tomorrow. Her mouth watered at the thought of it. She could almost taste it…

She just needed to keep being a good girl…such a good girl…

Bimbos are good girls…and dumb bimbos are fun bimbos…and horny bimbos are sluts…

Julie’s words echoed in her mind.

…silly Wendy…good girl…be a good bimbo…

…be a good bimbo…be a good bimbo…be a good bimbo…

“Wendy’s a good bimbo!” she squealed loudly.

A pure ecstasy flooded her body and mind as she climaxed, her hips wriggling with need.

“Yesyesyesyesyes!” she shrieked. “Yes! YES!”

A series of vapid giggles escaped Wendy’s lips as she writhed in bed. She’d never felt so horny…and dumb…and submissive…and AMAZING!

She needed more. A stupefied grin filled her face as she closed her eyes and drifted to sleep.

Wendy woke up. Her dreams had been overflowing with even more sexual fantasies. About Julie, and her boss, and Dan, and even Mandy…

She looked around. Why was she in the guest room? Last night was a total blur. She put some clothes on and headed to the kitchen.

Dan was sitting at the table, drinking his coffee, and reading the newspaper on his iPad, paying no attention to her. Julie cooked breakfast, wearing a long kitchen apron with only her underwear on.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Julie said cheerfully.

“…why was I in the guest room?” Wendy asked.

“You don’t remember? You were pretty drunk last night,” Julie explained.

Wendy tried to recall but couldn’t. “I was?”

“Too much wine. We tried taking you upstairs, but you were a little…aggressive. Then you passed out, so we just decided to let you sleep it off.”

Wendy frowned. “Oh… I’m sorry. Where did you sleep then?”

“On the couch, of course.”

Wendy felt ashamed for making her best friend sleep on the couch. She deserved better than that. But Julie didn’t seem bothered. Smiling brightly, she asked: "Now who wants pancakes?"

When Wendy arrived at work, she was surprised to find Mandy lounging in her office, filing her nails with her feet up on her desk.

“Hey girl!” the secretary jumped up, greeting her with a big hug—her oversized chest pressing into her own.

Wendy removed her jacket and sat down. “Morning, Mandy. Do you need help with something?”

“Just came to say hi, silly! With Mr. Williams out of town, there’s not really much for me to do.”

“I would’ve thought you’d be even busier with him gone.”

“Not really. I mean, mostly I just get him coffee, or make copies, or give him bl—uh, backrubs,” Mandy giggled.

“Backrubs?” asked Wendy.

“Yeah? That’s what good secretaries do!”

Wendy shrugged. Who was she to tell Mandy how to be a good secretary?

The airheaded blonde curiously looked over at the pile of papers on the desk.

“So what do accountants do? Something with numbers, right?”

Wendy’s face lit up with excitement. She loved explaining her job to people, the rare times someone was interested. She never understood why people considered accounting to be such a boring job—she had always found it fascinating.

She grabbed the top paper off a big stack. “Glad you asked. It’s really interesting stuff. Like for instance, this form right here.”

Wendy stared at the page.

“…this form… is, uh, it’s a list… of all the office supplies the company purchased this month, and, uh, my job is to…well…I’m supposed to.”

She squinted her eyes. This was a routine part of her job—something she’d done hundreds of times. So why was she suddenly drawing a total blank? What was the first step?

“First I’m supposed to…”

Mandy waited eagerly, filled with anticipation for what came next.

“My job is… to…well…I…I’m supposed to…”

Why did it seem so difficult all of a sudden?

“That’s a really nice necklace. Is that new?” Wendy asked, trying to change the subject. “It’s very pretty.”

"Oh, this?" Mandy replied, looking down at the silver necklace nestled in her cleavage, casually dipping it in and out.

The necklace had drawn her eyes to Mandy’s ample chest. Her breasts were so big and so perky. Wendy couldn’t stop staring.

“Mr. Williams got it for me. You like it?”

“He bought you that?” Wendy replied, with a hint of jealousy.

“Yeah, totally! He gets me lots of jewelry!”

“Wow…that’s nice.”

“Yeah, he’s a really great guy.”

“I don’t know about that,” remarked Wendy.

“What do you mean?”

“I just think he’s a little…old-fashioned, and a bit arrogant. Not to mention pompous…and…manly…and…powerful…and—”

Wendy was getting flustered. She fidgeted in her chair. “I mean, as a boss, he’s a man—a boss man. Bossy man. Very bossy. Very manly, very important. Very…assertive and confident and…”

Mandy giggled. “I know, right? He’s so hot!”

"I mean…he’s not really my type," Wendy lied, hastily adding, "Plus, I’m married, of course," as she displayed her wedding ring.

"Oh right! You're a mom too! I totally forgot. That's so cool! I can't wait to be a mom someday!"

“Not sure anyone’s ever described me as cool before,” Wendy laughed.

“What about your daughter?”

“Hardly. She’s at that age where she’s embarrassed to be seen with me.”

"Well... I didn't have a mom growing up," Mandy admitted. "But if I did, I would've wanted her to be like you."

Wendy was touched by the moment of sincerity. “I’m sorry to hear that. That’s very sweet of you to say.”

“Totally!” Mandy exclaimed. “You know, you’re like actually really pretty!”

Wendy blushed from the compliment. “Really?”

“Yeah! You have like a kinda natural beauty. If you just wore, like, a little more makeup, and better clothes, and did your hair better, and your nails, and wore jewelry, and smiled more, you’d be like a total hotty!”

Wendy raised an eyebrow. “Thank you?”

"I have an idea!" Mandy chirped, her face lighting up. "Let's have a girls' day! I'll treat you to my famous Mandy Makeover!"

“I’m a mom, I don’t really need a makeover.”

“Why not? Moms should look good too.”

“Well, because…”

As Wendy stared into the secretary’s big blue eyes, she felt lightheaded. Mandy had a good point.

Why not?

Moms should look good too…

The words echoed through her head. For some unexplainable reason, Wendy felt the sudden urge to make Mandy proud. To be accepted…by a popular girl…

To be accepted…by a bimbo…

She shivered as the word crossed her mind. Bimbo…

“…alright, sure!” Wendy giggled.