Housewife Bimbo Ch 01

Chapter 01

A naughty game goes wrong

"Anyone home?" a voice shouted.

"I'm here!" Florence shouted back. Hearing footsteps padding toward the bedroom, she wriggled her body in anticipation of her husband's arrival. She wanted to jump up and down with the excitement, although that would be impossible in the ludicrously high heels.

"Oh! Hi, Mrs Fencer," Jack shyly spoke. He stood in the doorway, knowing he should look away, but the image was so enticing.

"Jack! Hi! I'm so glad someone is here. I need help, come in, please," she whined.

"Err, what can I, err do for you," he politely replied, trying hard not to stare.

***

Florence felt a wave of embarrassment hit her like a slap to the face. She wanted to tell the young guy to leave, or at least turn around, though it was important to explain away the slutty clothes before he went. The only excuse coming to mind, was the outfit was for a fancy dress party.

Florence was preparing for her husband, to play a naughty sexy game. She was hypnotized to play at being his dumb trophy wife. The feeling of being dependent upon him, with the embarrassment of others thinking she was a ditzy blonde, was liberating. It had improved their sex lives enormously.

This week was going to be an extravagant adventure, by booking a whole week in a spa and entertainment complex. It had already started badly when her husband phoned to say he was going to be late, and she should get changed ready for when he arrived. Now this! Her step-sons friend had turned up, while she was hypnotised into taking on the dumb bimbo role.

***

"Like, these shoes, they are so bad with this dress," Bimbo exclaimed. The whining high pitched voice she used was almost as embarrassing as the slutty clothes.

"They look OK!" he commented. He was looking at the tight dress, ignoring the shoes altogether..

"Oh! Gosh! No! Like, yuk, they're so wrong. Can you help me change them, please! It would be a disaster to break my nails, and I can't bend to reach the shoe in this tight dress," she whined.

Florence and her husband had never played the game with anyone they knew, and this young man certainly did. Jack was her step-son's friend from college, and that left her feeling terribly embarrassed.

"OK. I guess," he murmured a reply. He couldn't take his eyes off the sexy, figure hugging dress.

"Well, hold my hands, so I can step back. I'll sit on the bed while you help," the Bimbo said.

Florence was aghast, as the bimbo drew Jack into helping her. She tried to calm down, so that she could take control of the stupid bimbo.

Jack warily took hold of her small hands, while she took a couple of steps back in the high heels. He understood what she meant now. It looked as though she was on stilts, and he wondered how it was possible to stand upright in them.

"Careful! Don't break my nails!" Bimbo warned him. At that moment she fell backwards, sprawling on the bed, pulling him over.

Florence gazed at him with a look of dismay, as he collapsed on top of her. His face was in her deep cleavage! Thinking the young guy might tell his friends about it, heightened the sense of embarrassment.

"I see you've met my big tittles!" Bimbo giggled. "Do you like them?" Bimbo asked, thrusting them up at him, like trophies.

Florence nearly died of shame. She wanted to shrink away from the excruciating predicament. Instead she had to take control of the dumb bitch, before something worse happened.

"Sorry, Mrs Fencer," he spluttered.

"I guess no harm done," the Bimbo smiled. "Like, my shoes? The red ones, over there," she pointed out.

"Yea, sure," Jack answered, with a wavering voice. If it hadn't been his friends mom, it would have been exciting to have his face in such a big pair of tits. It was wrong, and he had the feeling he was in trouble.

At least he was busy with something, and the dumb bimbo was quiet while waiting. It gave Florence a chance to think. As soon as the shoes were on, the bimbo would be happy and relaxed. It would be much easier to take control at that point. An explanation would have to be made, though digging her-self out of this hole would be difficult.

He knelt at her feet undoing the leather catch at her ankle.

"Hey! Be careful guy! Don't ladder my stockings," the Bimbo warned him.

Jack looked up at her to say something. His hands stopped working, and his mouth felt full of cotton wool. He held her foot and shoe in both hands, inadvertently separating her legs. Maybe they had been like that from when they both fell onto the bed. Surely she should have pulled them together.

He could see up the short dress, right between her legs! Her bare thighs with blue straps digging tightly into the soft flesh, was fascinating. The tiny white patch of material, covering her golden triangle was enthralling. He had seen pictures of women in magazines with a shaved pussy, yet this was a real one, inches from his nose.

An already red face turned puce, as though he was about to explode. He felt light headed too.

"Hey you! You alright, Jack?" the Bimbo asked.

Florence was in turmoil. The damn bimbo had left her legs open, too stupid to realise this young eighteen year old was staring at her crotch. The bimbo might be oblivious, but she was in an agony of embarrassment over it. What the hell was he thinking of her? His friend's mother was showing off her panties to him. The embarrassment kept her off balance, unable to gather her wits to stop the terrible situation.

Instead of replying, he tore his eyes away from the delectable sight of her crotch. He fiddled with the clasp, eventually getting the shoe free. Even holding her stocking clad foot was making him hot under the collar. Knowing she was wearing stockings, rather than tights, was a turn on.

Shit! He would have to be careful, or she would see his hard-on. As he moved to the other shoe, her foot brushed his thigh. It was a shock of imagined static electricity. He sighed deeply, trying to bring his breathing rate down.

"Are you sure you're alright, Jack," Bimbo asked, with the same bubbly voice, looking concerned.

"I'm fine, Mrs Fencer," he hoarsely whispered. He had never noticed her long blonde hair before, though he hadn't really noticed her while visiting Phillip. After all, she was Phil's mother, therefore of no interest to him. The big innocent eyes looking directly at him were so attractive he had to look away.

Looking straight ahead, he couldn't help noticing her thighs again. He hadn't realised how alluring thighs could be. It was all ass, tits, and pussy they talked about at college. Thinking of his face in this woman's tits, stirred him even more.

He concentrated on removing the shoe, and escaping, before he spurted into his shorts.

"Right, well done, Jack. The shoes are over there, if you don't mind helping silly me," she cooed.

"No, of course, yea," he murmured.

All Florence could do was sit and wait for it to end. She gave up struggling to take control of the bimbo, for she hadn't been able to bring her own emotions down to a manageable level. It was when the bimbo personality got her into trouble like this, that she needed her husband to rescue her.

He fumbled with the shoe, as it had a different catch, though like the other one it wrapped around an ankle. He fought the urge to look up from the task, losing the struggle more than once. Her thighs were so milky smooth, and soft looking, he wanted to reach up and touch them.

At last he stood up, away from temptation. The hem was high around her thighs, showing off the stocking tops, though at least her triangle was hidden. He could still see it, burnt into his retina, and forever saved in his thoughts.

"Help me up, please," Bimbo said, extending her arms out to him.

This time he braced himself, not daring to fall on the vision of loveliness again. He pulled hard, and she arose like the fabled lady of the lake. Only she kept going, bumping against his chest. He instinctively grabbed her, wrapping his arms around the delectable body. She wobbled on high heels, rubbing her breasts against his t-shirt.

"Oh! Sorry Jack, clumsy me nearly had you on the floor," Bimbo giggled.

His nose was touching her cheek. He wanted to kiss her. The ruby red lipstick exaggerated her pouting, full lips. Her perfume wafted over him in a cloud of feminine allure. She stopped swaying, but he still held on tight. The moment became embarrassing, but he just couldn't let go. The feel of her soft breasts against his chest was wonderful.

"You can let go of me now, I don't think I'll fall," she told him. "I'm such a clumsy thing. I had you on the bed, and now I've had you standing up. Hope you're not cross with silly little me?" Bimbo asked.

He shook his head, thinking about what she said, in an entirely different way to what she meant.

***

Florence quivered inside, from hearing the bawdy remark. The stupid bimbo was making a fool of her. At least he seemed genuinely shocked from the close contact. He was obviously inexperienced. He would probably have the decency to keep quiet about this at college, not wanting to upset Phillip.

The worst that might happen was he went home to play with himself. That thought made her feel pitiful. Being the object of an adolescent's hand-job was demeaning. What did she expect, after displaying herself so lewdly to him?

The point of their time away, was for her to feel embarrassed, and her husband to feel empowered, showing off an attractive blonde. They would each get what they wanted, and have a sex filled week. She felt embarrassed now, only it shouldn't have been with someone she knew.

Earlier Mathew called to say he was going to be late, so she had to be ready to go, when he arrived home. The only way she could dress like this, was by invoking the hypnotic suggestion. If she had realised how powerful it had become, she wouldn't have.

A slight tingling between the legs was a warning bell. At least the bimbo was too stupid to realise what she was doing. Florence decided to leave her to it, and ignore what was going on. That way, she wouldn't get so worked up. It was Mathew's fault, so he could sort it out when he arrived, which must be soon.

Getting hot and bothered from the embarrassing situation, and from being so helpless, was far too dangerous without her husband being near. What if it had been a neighbour? A mature man would more than likely take advantage. It didn't bear thinking about how vulnerable she was to a man's advances.

Florence remembered a few weeks ago when they stayed at a hotel. A young man talked her out of her panties. He had the bimbo convinced that nylon panties would cause cancer, and that she should remove them immediately. Despite his restrained smirk, the bimbo became so worried, she discreetly removed them, right there in the bar.

He had helpfully taken them from her, and put them in his pocket. When he advised her to get an immediate check-up, the bimbo became even more worried, as it couldn't be arranged until Monday. Florence knew what was coming next, and worked on the bimbo, trying to get her to go back to the room.

He cleverly talked the bimbo into asking him to examine her. He reluctantly refused, plainly looking to give in, after another drink. Just as he agreed to take the stupid bimbo to his room, to examine her vagina, Mathew arrived and rescued her.

She never did tell her husband the young guy had her panties. For the rest of the weekend she had to keep stopping the bimbo from removing her panties.

***

"Oh! Golly, no! These shoes are just too dreadful with this dress," Bimbo petulantly stated.

Jack couldn't see anything wrong with them. He shrugged his shoulders, preparing to escape. He backed away from her, while she alternately stared into the mirror, and scanned the room for something else to wear.

"Would you be a wonderful young man, and help me again?" Bimbo asked.

The wide open, innocent eyes, swayed his better judgement. He just nodded, unable to utter the word, 'anything'.

"You're so wonderfully kind," Bimbo squeaked. She kissed him on the cheek, swaying dangerously on the high heels.

He reached forward to steady her, only this time his hand was lower down. It touched her bottom, or at least the side of it, just lower than her hip. He snatched it away, as though it burnt his fingers.

"In there is a lovely blue dress, with flowers on it, could you fetch it for me," Bimbo said, lowering her eye lids and pouting. She was enjoying having an assistant to help her dress.

"This one?" Jack asked.

"Perfect! You're such a clever young man. Now, help me off with this one," she said. "It's too tight, and it won't go with these heels," she added.

"Err, I could take the shoes off," he suggested.

"Noooo! I want to see how they look with the lovely blue dress," she whined.

He looked at her for a moment, wondering what was going on. Was this a wet dream? He was sure Mrs Fencer didn't talk like that, with the squeaky girly voice. Was this woman a stupid sister or something? Maybe she was a twin?

"All you need to do is hold onto the hem, and pull it up. Right up over my head. Be careful of the stockings, and my nails, and don't tread on the shoes," she instructed. She lifted her arms up and looked at him, expecting the instructions to be carried out.

As though in a dream, he grabbed a hold of the hem. He had to admit, it was a tight fit. It was like a sheath, hugging the curves of her body. His hands trembled as he pulled the dress up her legs. The stocking tops, straps, then finally the panties and garter belt were revealed. He then had to roll it over her hips, to a slim waist.

It slipped easily over her flat tummy, then again he had to roll it over her breasts. The little push up bra was a treat to the eyes. Her soft luscious breasts were crushed together into a deep cleavage, in the undercut bra. They were being squeezed and pushed around, as the dress was rolled up over them.

He had his face in them only minutes ago. Now they were fully on display, with the nipples about to pop out over the top. The stretchy dress was covering her arms and head, when it snagged a bracelet.

"Oh! Be careful, don't break my sparkly bracelet!" Bimbo complained, in a sing song girly voice.

Standing close to the almost naked woman, was making him feel light headed. She swayed against him as he fiddled with the garment and jewellery. He stood back a moment, taking a deep breath. He could safely stare at the beautiful body, while her head and arms was stuck in the dress.

His eyes were drawn from her stocking clad feet, up her shapely legs encased in sheer nylons, to the creamy white thighs. Suspender belts dug into the thighs, clasping the stocking tops, pulling them tight. A delicate triangle of silk pursed her lips, holding them in an enticing grip.

Up over her flat tummy he rove, stroking her soft pure skin with his eyes. Her breasts were held firmly in a small push up bra. He remembered the softness of them against his face, though now it was safe to watch them heave with every breath she took.

Florence took advantage while the Bimbo was just waiting in the dark, with a vacant mind. 'Listen to me! You are under my control,' Florence implored. It would be terribly embarrassing, standing before Jack as herself, but something had to be done. This just couldn't carry on.

Jack pulled the dress from her head, and dropped it on the bed. She just stood there looking dazed. It looked as though she were hypnotized. It struck him like a lightening flash! He remembered Phillip telling him about his parent's hobby. They performed an act at charity events, to raise money for charity. If he remembered right, that's where Philip's parents met. Mr Fencer was lucky to have such a beautiful young wife.

"Mrs Fencer! Listen to me! Are you all right?" he stated slowly, as though she were a simpleton.

"Nearly," Florence replied. She hadn't regained control yet, being in an awkward half stage between the Bimbo personality and herself.

"Are you hypnotised?" he slowly asked.

"Yes," she dreamily replied.

"Don't worry, I'll help you. Just do as I say, and everything will be alright. Do you understand?" he firmly told her, trying to sound reassuring.

"I think so," she said, responding to the reassurance, while wondering what he meant.

"I'll take care of you, just do as I say and it will be alright," he firmly stated.

Shit! She was nearly free of the damn Bimbo. Now he was going to try and help her, which she really didn't need. What did he think he was doing?

She just stood there looking dazed. He couldn't think what to do next, only knowing he would have to do something. He couldn't leave her like this. Not only that, if she awoke with him here, while she was in just a bra and panties, it would look so very bad. She must have been practising some sort of role for a show.

"Carry on as before, being who you were before, only you must do as I tell you," he said, trying to sound as though he knew what he was doing.

"Sure, OK!" Bimbo giggled.

Florence cringed inside with a dreadful feeling this was going to end badly. Damn the stupid boy, she had nearly been free of the dumb girl.

"You had better take those shoes off, and put some sensible ones on," he ordered.

He didn't want her running around like a slut, when her husband, or Philip returned home. If she told them he had been helping her get dressed, and had her on the bed, he would be in trouble. Phillip wouldn't talk to him again, and if his mother found out he would be grounded for the rest of summer.

He would have to search the internet for a solution. That was it! Wipe her memory of his involvement, and snap her out of this state.

He glanced at her smiling face, and couldn't help staring at her luscious body. He would have to dress her in something sensible, then take her home. When his mother arrived she would wonder what he was doing with a neighbour in his room. Dressed like this she would have something to say for sure.

"Here put this on. No! Don't take the underwear off. Wait! Tell me when you're dressed," Jack firmly told her. He left the room, to impatiently hover outside.

"Ready! I don't like this one bit. Its, so ordinary, it's shabby," Bimbo complained.

As far as Florence was concerned it was a great step forward. The flat shoes and simple dress was ordinary, and very welcome. Well done Jack!

"Oh! Alright, if you're sure," Bimbo answered.

No! Don't leave the house! Florence desperately needed to take control right now. It wasn't safe for her to be outside. The stupid bitch would get into some dreadful situation. It would be embarrassing to be seen like this by a neighbour. To meet a friend or relative would be humiliating.

Florence didn't know what to do. She had left it too long before trying to regain control of the bimbo. Now the bimbo was the dominant one, in control, making the decisions. As stupid as they might be, she was going to have to live with the consequences.

'Please! Don't go outside,' Florence silently whimpered. Coming into contact with others, without the protection of her husband, would be dangerous.

She would be giggling like a moron, showing herself up before everyone. This would have been exciting in a place where no one knew them, and with her husband looking after her. Here in the neighbourhood it could be disastrous. She might never live it down.

Shrinking away into a corner of her mind, she let Jack guide her. Fortunately they didn't meet anyone on the way to his house. Her friend, Jack's mother, was out, which was a big relief.

"Just sit there while I try to work this out," he told her.

It was reassuring that he wanted to help, yet all he had to do was ask. She could tell him exactly what to do, as it just needed a phrase to be spoken to bring her out of this mess.