Bimbo by the Book | free bimbofication story

CHAPTER ONE

The library was quiet as usual, filled with the musty, if not dusty scent of thousands upon thousands of books from ancient times and the local patrons who for the most part seemed to be from the same general era as the books. The lights were dim, most of the light bulbs probably bought somewhere around the 1950s and if there was one thing they were not good for then it was making a room bright. There are some things that can be fought and the quality of lighting at the Peak Street Paranormal Library was not one of those things.

Cassandra sat slumped on a chair by one of the smaller tables hidden away on the second floor balcony, a rickety contraption that didn’t promise much in terms of stability. The area was solidly surrounded by a wall of grimy bookshelves stocked to the brim with barely legible tomes, ancient texts and the occasional rat droppings. All in all it wasn’t the most savory of locations but one does not get to pick their placements in the increasingly obscure world of being an employed Historian. In all honesty somewhere at her core she was deeply thankful for the fact that she did in fact have a job reasonably within the muddled borderlines of her degree and that the lowest she had to come to was spending a few months in a small town in Alabama researching the background of the state’s black magic culture. Who knew Alabama had a black magic culture to begin with!

She sighed wistfully, scribbling notes in her textbook while turning the page of the book she’d heaved off of one of the shelves a few hours ago, trying to make sense of the author’s handwriting. Best she could tell was that whatever the great mind behind this work of great historical importance had been thinking of had to have been inspired by a great deal of opium and perhaps a few dozen sleepless nights.

The girl had been stuck in the small town of St Lavinia for the past two months or so, sent on a quest to document the paranormal and mystical literature that the tiny town had to offer. Apparently a few centuries ago one of the minor gentry of the area had taken an interest in the backstories of St Lavinia, known as a bit of a questionable hotspot for, well, questionable things throughout the ages. He had set forth to amass an impressive collection of books, scrolls, artefacts and other pieces of mythical and mystical junk that had been donated to the town a few generations later. These later turned into the Peak Street Paranormal Library. The man, August Bailey, had been a bit of a crackpot as legend said and his collection didn’t seem to amount to much more than a curious pile of oddities but for Cassandra’s boss it hinted at a gold mine.

The historian who had hired her had his own taste for the occult and in his spare time, when he wasn’t trying to pinpoint the more delicate details of American pre-colonial history, he was trying to get his hands on every little tidbit of weird science that the small forgotten places of the United States had to offer. It was just Cassandra’s luck that she had thought that she was getting a great job as an assistant to the great man, learning about the untold stories of US history and instead she got to plow through tomes on the correct use of eye of newt in various potions. She tried not to talk or think about it much. Every time she did she felt like weeping a little for her insanely expensive degree from Princeton that she’d be paying off for the next foreseeable forever.

St Lavinia wasn’t the first town she had gotten to spend her time at since getting her new job. Before St Lavinia she’d been in Kentucky for six weeks, digging up data about a group who had taken a liking to burning virgins at the stake in the 1700s. Before that she’d spent two months in Missouri going through hundreds of boxes of what amounted to little more than good-old-fashioned garbage at a village known for its weird witch and warlock stories. Her first task had been to figure out whether or not toads had rained down from the sky in 1856 at a swamp in Mississippi because of a witch doctor’s curse or because of freak weather. All in all her goal in most of those cases seemed to be to try and have as few opinions as possible and do her best to drown any rationality she had so her employer could happily speculate impossible things based on her notes. In short, she wasn’t really a believer.

Thankfully St Lavinia hadn’t been the worst place to work at. There was a nice B&B, which was a luxury in the areas she had been forced to visit and even a diner. She was incredibly thankful that the diner was willing to sell her coffee that didn’t immediately burn through her stomach lining and pancakes which actually tasted pretty good. There were a few hundred people in the town altogether but a steady enough traffic of people scurrying in and out from other towns to sell their produce at the local market that she didn’t feel like she was completely being stared at. She was, of course, being stared at, if for nothing else then for the fact that she was a pretty white girl out of her element. It seemed that the residents of St Lavinia were remarkably good at being subtle about it, though.

Cassandra looked up at the old cuckoo clock, which was about to strike 9 PM. She glanced around herself and discovered to her great amazement that the long halls of the library were almost empty and she couldn’t hear the familiar mumblings and rumblings that filled the rooms to the late hours. Usually at this time the library was still full of people who were about as old as the books she was reading, or teenagers clad in black and wearing exorbitant amounts of eyeliner, trying to learn about ‘dark arts’ and ‘mystical rituals’. Unless you were very lucky (or unlucky, as it were) the most you could learn from the books there was how to accidentally poison yourself by cooking your potions with the wrong kind of ivy.

Her brow furrowed slightly, pausing to listen for any voices or hushed sounds of pages being turned. Nothing. Odd, she thought. Maybe they were supposed to close earlier today and I didn’t notice? She wondered to herself, putting a pen between the pages she was just reading and getting up.

CHAPTER TWO

Cassandra was a natural beauty, tall at 5’10’’ with long dark hair and a lithe figure. She had green eyes and full lips and her body was toned from years of diligently doing yoga and going for long runs. A few times she had been told that she seemed put-offish but in her own mind that was the furthest thing from the truth. She was smart, educated and generally liked other people, perhaps not all of them but at least the vast majority of them. The rest, well, if she was a bit short with them sometimes she could only apologize and try better next time.

Little did she know that someone very close didn’t quite share in Cassandra’s sunny image of herself. Since the first day she had shown up at the library a keen pair of eyes had been keeping close watch on her, carefully tracking what she was reading, wearing and doing on a daily basis. John had been working at the library for over ten years now and he had made it a point of honor to know each and every book and transcript that could be found in the old wooden building. In fact, he had read all of them at least once and he’d been a keen student of the knowledge they were offering. Unlike Cassandra, he was a believer.

John came from a long line of warlocks who had made it their mission to be as powerful as they could be while using their gifts and knowledge for their own personal gain. Hundreds of years ago his family had been feared and reluctantly respected in those parts but since then the legacy had fallen into shambles.

It was a bit cliche and for the longest time John himself hadn’t believed much in the ancient tales he had read from the diaries of his ancestors and the stories his grandfather had told him. It seemed impossible or highly improbable at the very least. His great great great grandfather had allegedly been a man who could get anything he wanted with just a few muttered phrases and perhaps a handful of scented dirt. Ridiculous. For the last few generations the family had hidden their identities, changing their names and some even moving away from their lands around St Lavinia until no one in the region could remember who they were. The only tie they hadn’t severed was that one of the men in the family always looked after the library that the great August Bailey had left, an unknown treasure in the hands of ungrateful masses.

Most of John’s kin didn’t believe in the crazy tales either. In the era of the internet and mass media, witchcraft seemed like an incredibly tired and distasteful thing to consider possible. Yet when it came to be John’s turn to take over the library he had found himself reading everything he could get his hands on and his faith sprung forth, new and unsullied like a fresh coat of snow. With each word he read he could feel himself becoming more confident in the power that legend said the men in his family held. He’d found himself daydreaming of the things he could do with it, how he could bend the world to his will, bit by bit. But to begin he wanted something a lot more carnal than dominance over all things, a lot simpler – he wanted a willing sex slave.

Not too surprisingly the town’s creepy librarian wasn’t exactly considered a catch. While he was reasonably attractive for a man in his early thirties his lack of social graces and the thick horn-rimmed glasses he wore did not work as an aphrodisiac to the majority of the female population. He spent about as much time browsing porn as he did scribbling hexes and contemplating potions and it didn’t do anything for his reputation with the ladies. John didn’t mind, though. He was a patient man and he was perfectly content with jerking off to questionable porn until the day came when he could test out his newfound skills in the dark arts.

When Cassandra showed up in St Lavinia he knew it must be a sign from his ancestors, telling him to rise to the occasion. Or that it was just a random coincidence, but either or there was a gorgeous woman in town and she was spending most of her time confined in the dreary library, so in any case it was a win in John’s book.

He’d been getting to know her, purposely giving her books that would lead her nowhere and making sure she didn’t stray too close to his family’s background. She didn’t particularly impress him. She came off as haughty and gave John a general vibe of not wanting to be there. But she was a woman who wasn’t from around there so she wouldn’t be missed if she didn’t go home in the evening and he had ample time to prepare for what was to come. That had to count for something.

Some of that preparation had included peering at her through rows of books, imagining what he was going to do to her while masturbating furiously, but he figured it was part of the process and who was he to question the dark arts.

So when she sauntered through the halls that evening, looking more than a little perplexed at the fact that it was only John and she left at the library, he could barely contain his excitement. He could see her coming down the stairs from the second floor balcony and watching those long legs step down the rounded staircase he could already feel his cock hardening in expectation. I hope this works, he thought to himself, clutching a handful of red sand in his hand. He’d been practicing the spell since she showed up, stealing a strand of hair from her at one point to really make it stick. All the while fighting off the little voice that asked him if he was really going to try and put a spell on a girl just so she would fuck him. Wouldn’t flowers and a few compliments be an easier option? Apparently not.

She smiled at him, raising a hand in a small wave. “Oh, hey John! I thought I’d been locked in or something.” John suppressed a smirk. She was locked in, he’d made sure that everyone else knew that the place was closing its doors early and now it was just him and her and a bit of black magic left in the building.

Here goes nothing, he thought, as he stood up and tossed the handful of sand at her without a word of acknowledgement, the fine dust sprinkling over the girl. She sputtered for a moment, staring at him in amazement as John quickly muttered a row of words she had never heard. “W-why?” she asked, trying to wipe the sand off of herself as he was still chanting. “What’s wrong with y-“ she began and then stopped abruptly as his voice rose for the final phrase, “factus est bimbo!”

Immediately the lights flickered and the temperature in the room seemed to drop by a few degrees. Cassandra’s words fell silent in her throat and her eyes filled with horror as she started transforming in front of John’s nervous gaze. For a moment it looked as if she was quaking with fear, her body shuddering. Her dark hair became lighter, the color leeching out from the roots and turning blonder by the second. The green in her eyes first got dapples of blue in it until the blue completely took over, splitting out from the concentrated dots. Her short well-manicured nails grew longer and the polish turned bright bubblegum pink as her lashes grew thicker and her lips fuller. The buttons on her blouse popped as her breasts swelled, trying to break out of the flimsy bra holding back the suddenly enlarged bosom. Her waist contracted, shrinking smaller as her hips and ass grew wider, straining against the seams of the skirt she was wearing. The bright spark of intelligence visibly drained from her eyes, replaced completely by a look of wistful ignorance and simple lust. In a matter of moments she had turned from an intelligent young woman into the perfect portrayal of a blonde bimbo, gorgeous and completely unaware of whom she had been.

John’s jaw almost fell to the ground as he stared at the creature before him. She was exactly as he wanted her to be and his cock had become stiff with anticipation as he watched her change bit by bit. Those luscious curves, that simple bright-eyed face with those full lips made to suck on his dick, those huge tits…oh yes, he was a powerful warlock alright. His stomach was churning in shock and the single reaction that he could muster after just ogling at her was to laugh, first a little but it quickly turned into hysterical cackles. The girl joined in, giggling merrily while playing with a lock of her blonde hair, completely unaware as to what they were laughing about.

“I can’t believe it actually worked!” he exclaimed between chuckles, trying to compose himself. The girl just blinked in innocent surprise.

“What worked, John?” she asked. Her voice had become higher and had a certain taste of naivete about it.

He took a deep breath and rolled back his shoulders, composing himself. “Nothing you should worry your pretty little head about. From now on you should call me Master, not John. And your name will be Cassie, Cassandra sounds too uptight. Now, Cassie, go to the bathroom and put on the things I left for you there and then come out to amuse your Master, okay?” He was pleased that he managed to keep his voice from shaking despite his stomach doing cartwheels and his legs quivering a bit from the excitement and surprise.

Cassie nodded enthusiastically, bouncing up a bit on the balls of her feet which made her large tits threaten to pop right out of the already torn shirt. “Yes, Master!” she chirped and bounded off in the direction he pointed her at without a second of hesitation.

CHAPTER THREE

It took a good twenty minutes before the girl reappeared, making John wonder whether he should go and drag her out of the bathroom or if something had gone wrong and perhaps she had turned into a pink puddle of goo on the tile floor now instead of a pink bombacious blonde. His worries disappeared though as the tall bombshell stepped out, now in a tight little pink wrap dress that was hugging her curves just right. She was in six inch heels, seemingly completely comfortable walking across the room to John, who was sprawled across a wide leather chair in one of the reading corners. One of John’s legs was propped on the small table in front of him. He bit his lower lip as she stopped just short of him, making a little bouncy twirl in front of him while giggling happily.

She shook her ass at him a bit when she had her back turned to him and glanced at him over her shoulder. Cassie had redone her makeup, her lips now as pink as the dress, matching her nails. Her full lashes were stretched even longer by the thick coat of mascara and there were small pink stones glued on them. She looked exactly like he had imagined, maybe even a bit better.

“Do you like it, Master?” she asked, her light voice barely containing her excitement.

“Yes, Cassie, I like it,” he said, still struggling to keep his voice from breaking. “Now, what do you want to do for your Master?”

“Mmm…” she murmured, rolling her eyes up and seeming to think about the question intently. “Can I please suck Master’s cock?” she asked, looking almost impossibly innocent. He cocked a brow at her, smirking a little as his penis stirred again now that the girl had shown up all full of bubblegum and desire. “Please please please please pleeeeease?!” she begged, pouting a little as she leaned forward with her hands together as if she was asking for absolution from her sins. He was of course more than happy to exorcise her demons via enthusiastic fucking.

“I don’t know,” he said, leaning back casually in the chair. “Why do you want to suck my cock, Cassie?”

She pursed her lips, looking contemplative for a moment before she grinned wide, showing her pearly white teeth. “Because I need Master’s cock! I want to be a good girl for Master and make him happy.” She batted her long lashes, shifting from one hip to the other, teetering on top of her high heels.

John sighed, trying to seem bored with it all despite the fact that his dick was painfully pressing against the zipper of his pants. “Well, I guess you can suck my cock then, Cassie. But you have to do a really good job or I won’t let you touch it again.” He marveled at the fact that she looked genuinely crestfallen at the idea of never being able to touch his rod if she did a bad job, even before ever seeing it.

Man, I love black magic.

Cassie nodded, a small frown tainting her immaculate face. “Yes, Master. I’ll do a really good job!” She took a confident step towards him and leant forward to unbutton his shirt with deft fingers. He couldn’t stop staring at her huge breasts, pushing against the dress and threatening to pile over the side of the strapless garment. She hummed softly as she dealt with the shirt and moved onto his belt. John’s stomach was in knots, the whole situation completely surreal. He gulped down a breath and then pulled the front of her dress down over her plush tits, letting them hang freely as she pulled at the buckle. The girl giggled, shimmying her shoulders a bit as her breasts popped out of the tiny dress.

He grabbed both of the perfect orbs with his hands and squeezed them hard, making the girl moan with pleasure. She immediately leaned closer to him, pressing her tits against his fingers as her hand released the button on his pants and unzipped the zipper. Cassie gave a long breathy moan as he played with her breasts, kneading them and pinching the small nipples. They were heavy in his hands, big and round and almost too big for her small frame. His cock twitched as a wave of desire rushed through him as he grabbed and toyed with them, the girl’s hand slipping past the teeth of the zipper and her fingertips lightly grazing over the head of his shaft.

She bit her lower lip, excitement clear on her face as she stroked his cock with careful fingers.

“Oh sir, you’re so big,” she sighed, rubbing the head with small circular motions. He smirked a bit. He wasn’t supremely impressive but he appreciated the girl’s wide-eyed appreciation. A big part of wanting a perfect bimbo, aside from the body and tits of course, was the unquestioning appreciation he expected to get.

“Yeah, Cassie, I am. Now suck it, you little cumwhore.” She positively beamed back at him at that, gracefully getting down on her knees in front of him and pulling his pants down.

Cassie stroked him harder now, her delicate fingers curling around the shaft and moving up and down in a slow rhythm. She leant in, her breasts pressing against his thighs as she licked the head with long lapping motions of her tongue, almost purring at the sensation of his cock on her tongue. John grabbed her hair, twisting it in a high ponytail, and when he had a good grip on it he forced her down, making her take the head in her mouth. Her lush pink lips locked around it and she sucked diligently, twirling the tip of her tongue on the head as she did so. Cassie looked up at him every now and then with those big baby blue eyes and a hint of a smile on her lips. He felt like he had done Cassandra a great service by allowing her to become what she was obviously meant to be and he didn’t mind the side-effects of the deal one bit.

He held her strictly by the ponytail, moving her up and down at his whim. Keeping his composure was ridiculously difficult as the girl hummed and squirmed playfully, rubbing her breasts against his thighs. She touched his balls gently, rolling them between her fingers as he made her suck him deeper and deeper. Soon she had to let go of the shaft so she could take him all in her mouth, John feeling the head of his cock pop past her uvula and plunge into her throat. He groaned as the girl took him willingly, diligently controlling her gag reflex to keep him satisfied. She bobbed up and down even when his concentration waned too much to shove her down, hungrily taking him in. Her pink lipstick left small streaks on his shaft.

Her enthusiasm was remarkable, her cheeks lit up with hints of red as she deepthroated him, her tongue rubbing against the base of his cock every time she went as deep as she could. John’s stomach was clenched and he could feel himself getting dangerously close to cumming. With one sharp pull up he had pulled the girl off of him, wincing as her sweet mouth left his dick. She looked at him with a mixture of worry and confusion.

“Did I do something wrong, Master?” she asked, rising a bit higher on her knees so her tits came to rest on his thighs instead of being squished against them.

“Well, I get bored, Cassie. I don’t like getting bored. Maybe I should go play with another bimbo who is more willing to please her Master, hmm?” he said, gasping to control his breath and to keep from spurting jizz all over her face.

John delighted in seeing the spark of horror in the girl’s eyes, which immediately welled up with tears.

“Nooooo! Please, Master, don’t take anyone else! Please! I really really need your cock, Master! Please let me make you happy! I want your cock in me so bad, Master! My tight pussy needs your cock, it’s soooo wet! I’ll do anything for Master’s cock, just tell me what I can do better, Master!” Cassie was shivering in front of him, genuine fear evident on her face. It looked as if she couldn’t imagine a world so terrible where John wouldn’t let her suck his dick or where he wouldn’t pound her until she was a spent mess from having one too many orgasms. His heart swelled with pride. She was just the bimbo he had always wanted.

John shrugged nonchalantly at her begging, looking incredibly weary and over it all.

“Well, I don’t feel like doing anything myself, Cassie. Maybe you should get on my lap and ride me. Maybe you’re better at that than sucking cock.” She nodded enthusiastically, her bright smile returning at the glimmer of hope.

“Yes, Master! I’ll do my best! Thank you, Master.”

She jumped up, getting off of her knees. They were a bit red from the hardwood floor. He exhaled deeply, appreciating the sight of her from his vantage point. The tight dress hugged her hips and pressed against her flat stomach and her long legs seemed to go on forever in those ridiculously high heels. She looked like a Barbie doll, just better, and he couldn’t get enough of it.

Cassie slipped out of her thong, pulling it down her hips and then letting it slip off her legs and down around the pumps. She stepped out of it, the lacy pink strings forgotten on the ground. Her knees carefully slid around his legs on the wide dark chair, her pale skin a stark contrast against the leather. John put his hands on her waist and pulled her into him, burying his face between the large breasts. He could smell a hint of the bitter powder he had thrown on him, though she had tried to drown it under Chanel no 5. She giggled brightly and leant close, letting him lick between her tits as she climbed closer. Her dress was so short that she didn’t even have to pull it up, her shaved pussy visible as soon as she parted her legs a little.

John sucked on one of her nipples as she lowered down, getting ready to let him open her wide. She grabbed his cock with one hand and guided it to her wet slit, sopping with her juices. As she started sinking down on him, the head parting her lips, they both groaned hard. She was impossibly tight, her pussy resisting him even though she was begging for it.

“Oh my god, Master. You’re so big! I’m trying to be a good doll for you and fit you! Nghhh!”

He grabbed her by the hips, his hands digging into her dress. It had bunched under her breasts and around her hips, showing all of her better parts. John pushed her down bit by bit, the girl squealing but not resisting as he opened her wide with his thick cock. He loved to hear her moan and feel her squirm, her muscles tight around his dick. When he was finally all the way in she arched her back and opened completely for him, fitting around him snugly.

“That’s good, Cassie,” he muttered, his hands slipping down her hips and grabbing her firm ass as she started grinding on him. He could feel his balls tightening with each little move she made as she bounced up and down on him. Cassie whimpered as she tried to move with bigger motions, his cock so big for her that she could barely handle it with her incredibly tight pussy. But she was trying and the girl was so wet that his lap was already moist with her juices. She felt amazing as she milked his dick with that firm body of hers, her big tits bouncing in front of his face and her tiny waist creating a perfect hourglass shape.

He pushed her up and down on him with more demanding motions, making her jump on him harder. A few tears streamed down her cheeks and she whimpered every time she was forced down on him but that delighted smile still stuck to her lips. Like a good little bimbo she was happy that she could do as she was told, making her Master happy even if it hurt her a little.

“Thank you Master for letting me have your cock! It’s soooo good! It opens me up so wide, I can barely take it, Master!” She grabbed her breasts with her hands, the long nails digging into the skin as she kneaded them. Cassie twisted her nipples and pinched them, groaning hard and looking at John to know whether she was allowed to play with her own huge tits.

“That’s right, Casse. Cum for Master. Pinch those massive things, you little bimbo slut. What do you want Cassie? Tell me what you want, you cumwhore!” He grunted, bucking into her harder, not giving the girl a moment of rest.

Her cheeks were red now and her breathing was shallow, the girl squeezing her breasts harder and harder as she grinded hungrily.

“I want your cock, Master,” she gasped between breaths. “I want to cum for you, Master. And I need to have your cum, Master. Please let me have your cum, Master,” she begged, her voice high. John thrust into her, moving her on him with only one intent in mind.

“Cum for me, Casssie. Cum.” As soon as the words slipped over his lips the girl was writhing in ecstasy on top of him, squealing at the top of her lunch as her pussy clenched around him and milked him violently. Her head was thrown back and she was shivering all over, her blonde hair sticking to her fair skin. As soon as her spasms died down a bit John almost threw her off of him, pushing her on the floor. The girl landed squarely on her ass, dazed and confused. He was close to losing control and he knew exactly how he wanted to end it.

John stood up, towering above her, his cock rock hard. He’d been straining to not cum in her ever since she got on top of him and now when his dick was glistening with her juices he couldn’t hold back any longer. He grabbed her by her hair and pulled her to face his cock. With his free hand he grabbed it by the base and jerked it.

“Time to take the cum, Cassie. Open up.” The girl immediately opened her mouth, the spark of innocence and hunger returning to her eyes.

He could only get in a few strokes before he couldn’t take it anymore and thick white strings of semen flew out of his cock, landing on Cassie’s face, breasts and some on her tongue. She stuck her tongue out to catch more of it as cum dripped down her tits and streamed down her cheeks. He pulled her mouth on him, the last drops trickling into her warm mouth and down her throat.

John fell back onto the chair, spent and covered in sweat. His chest heaved as he looked at her, kneeling on the floor with her perfect face and tits covered with his cum, an impish smile on her face. Her expression and demeanor told him that she’d be ready to go again right away if only he told her so.

“Did I do well, Master?” she asked, picking some of the white droplets off of her right breast with her finger and then licking it off of it. He nodded meekly, still amazed that all of it had just happened.

“Yes, Cassie. You were a good little doll,” he muttered, trying to catch his breath. He wasn’t sure if he was ever going to turn the girl back to her real, lesser self again. Why would he if she was so perfect now?