Anyone who is under the age of 18, along with anyone offended by stories of a sexual nature or containing sexual situations or offended by the idea of mind control in any fashion, please do not read this story.
This story takes place in the fictional town of Chrystal Heights. This is not significant in any way other than I hope to continue creating stories involving this town.
The people and events in this story are fictional and do not represent anyone or anything from real life.
Synopsis: Cherry is at the end of her bimbo curse year, and it's time to pass the curse on.
Note: This is a sequel to my story "Bimbos and Cuffs." You can read this one without having read the first, but this one will make more sense if you read "Bimbos and Cuffs" first. If you want to read the other one first, go ahead. We'll wait here while you do.
Note: While we're waiting for the others to come back, I'd like to mention that this story is based on an idea offered by a fan. The girl is a bimbo herself, and she knows how a good bimbo story should go.
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Bimbos and Cuffs: Full Circle
Her hair was golden blonde and full, flowing down to her waist. Her boobs were simply overwhelming, squeezed together, perfectly round and swelled. The girl's lips were thick and bee-stung, red puffy pillows that just begged to wrap around a thick cock. Lush rounded hips curved inward to form a tiny waist. Her ass was a rounded half-moon bubble. It a body was built for pleasure. The blonde girl's eyes were enthusiastic but cheerfully lacking anything resembling intelligence.
I clenched my teeth as I stared at my reflection in the mirror. Or, at least, I tried to. It actually looked more like an adorable pucker. It was that last bit that really rankled me. I was built like a fucking over-sexed bimbo. I couldn't help that. But did I have to look and sound so brainless? Grrrrrrrrr. It was the nature of the curse that I had inherited almost one year ago from that bitch, Wendy.
At least I wouldn't be "Cherry" much longer. I had done everything the curse demanded. I had given over one hundred blowjobs (one hundred and four, to be specific. I hit ninety-nine three days ago, but I accidentally got drunk with a group of college guys that night. Oops), I had gotten butt-fucked one hundred and one times (I really didn't want to make any mistakes there) and I had gotten pussy-fucked one hundred and eleven times (don't ever drink with a biker gang and think you're going to entertain only
one
of them). I was at ninety-nine pussy lickings and I was ready to pass the curse on to some other lucky girl. But it had to be tonight. If I didn't pass this thing on by midnight, I was stuck like this permanently.
I turned away from the mirror and felt the momentum cause my boobs to jiggle side-to-side for several moments after I stopped moving. I giggled as they settled back into place. The problem with this curse was that the more I acted like a bubble-headed bimbo, the more natural it felt. My body was so fucking responsive to sex now that it was embarrassing, and I had a constant overwhelming need for cum. But that was all going to end tonight.
I looked over the potential candidates in the bar. I had returned to the very ladies-only bar where I had picked up Wendy last year. It seemed appropriate, and, as much as I really wanted some cum inside me, there were a lot more candidates for a pussy-licking this way.
My gaze rested on a redhead for a moment, then moved to a brunette sitting not far away. Both appeared to flirting with a group of biker chicks, so I continued looking around. At the other end of the bar sat a thin girl with longish black hair. There was something familiar about her. Then it hit me. I knew exactly who she was.
I jiggled my way to the end of the bar, hips twitching and rolling, and slid onto the bar stool next to the girl. She was exactly who I thought she was. This was too perfect.
"Hi, Wendy!" I chirped.
Wendy turned and blinked. "Cherry? Is that you?"
I couldn't believe my luck. Wendy. The girl who passed this bimbo curse to me in the first place was here, tonight of all nights.
I giggled. "Yeppers!" I said. I really couldn't wait to get rid of this airheaded vocabulary. At the moment, however, it was the only way I could speak. At least, until midnight.