Housewife Bimbo Ch. 01

"Like, yuk, I can't just sit here doing nothing. I'm bored!" Bimbo exclaimed. Florence had told the bimbo to hurry Jack along, and tried to get her to go home. Instead the stupid thing had declared she was bored.

"Here, chew this gum," he absently told her.

"Ooo! Cool! Pink!" Bimbo cooed. She sat there contentedly chewing, blowing a bubble, and popping it. A little squeal of pleasure erupted whenever a large bubble burst.

Florence felt so small and pathetic. Surely this couldn't go on. She willed him to forget the internet search, and ask her what to do. She was gradually regaining control, while the stupid one was preoccupied with chewing gum. Thankfully it didn't take much to distract the bimbo.

She was very nearly ready to speak out, to tell Jack the release phrase. It was difficult to break into the damn chewing, and blowing routine. At last the gum was pushed into a cheek, for Florence to try speaking.

The internet was no help at all. It had been a stupid idea. How in hell could he learn the techniques of hypnosis in five minutes.

"Tommy, he'll get me out of this mess," Jack murmured. "Come on, we're going," he told Mrs Fencer.

"Err, like where we going now?" Bimbo squeaked. As bad as it was being away from home, she didn't want to leave the relative safety of his room.

"Can't we stay here? I can blow for you, I like to blow, can I blow for you?" the Bimbo chirruped, with a bouncy girly voice. Florence was influencing the stupid thing, but it kept getting in the way of what she needed to say.

Jack took no notice. He grabbed her hand, pulling her out of the chair. "Come on! Do as you are told, be a good girl," he commanded.

He needed to get rid of the woman before his mother got home. It would be difficult to explain away, having Mrs Fencer here like this. He was sure to get the blame. He stopped by the front door, wondering if he should seek his friends help, or just dump her at home.

"I'm going to take you home. You can wait there until . . . Maybe it will wear off or something," he said, with a shrug of his shoulders.

Florence relaxed. Waiting at home for her husband would be ideal. Jack had been careful leading her here, so maybe they wouldn't meet anyone going home. The bags were packed, so all they had to do was drive to the resort.

"Hey Jack!" Mr Fencer shouted.

Shit! He shoved her further back into the house, out of sight.

"Hi!" he shouted back. Her husband was directly outside the house, leaning out of the car window.

"If you see Florence, tell her I've gone ahead. We'll meet at the resort. OK?" he said.

"Oh! Yea! OK!" he shouted back.

Florence heard her husband, and immediately wanted to shout to him. It didn't matter what he said, she would just have to live with the jokes and jibes. He would remind her at every opportunity, she had been a young guys silly little bimbo. The thought stopped her running to him, for just a moment.

With a strength of will, she pushed the bimbo forward, impelling the stupid girl toward the open door. "Ouch!" Bimbo exclaimed, as she collided with the door.

Florence heard her husband drive off. In an agony of dismay, the finality of the chance of freedom closed in on her. She watched the door slam shut, feeling despair overtake her.

"You OK?" Jack asked.

"Silly me. I ran into the door," Bimbo whimpered.

Jack took her in his arms to cuddle her. He couldn't leave her at home now. There would be no one to look after her. There was no telling what trouble she might get into. Even in flat shoes she was a walking disaster. Damn! He would have to find Tommy, get her sorted out, then send her off to her husband.

Florence sat quietly while Jack drove. It was damnably infuriating. He was doing his best, trying to help her, but he needn't have bothered. Having repeatedly told her to do as she was told, left her all the more under the hypnotic influence. It didn't help being told to be a good girl.

The pool hall didn't look too bad, and it wasn't likely she would meet someone she knew. It just wasn't home, where she wanted to be.

"Hi Tommy. Am I glad to see you!" Jack enthused.

"Hi! Who's the girl?" he said, without looking at his friend. He stared her up and down.

"That's why I'm here. She's hypnotised and needs to be de-hypnotised, or whatever you call it," Jack tried to explain.

"What? I didn't know you were into it," Tommy queried.

"I'm not. A friend did it, and now I'm stuck with her. I need you to bring her round," he lied.

"What's her name? I need to know a few details," Tommy thoughtfully spoke. Hypnosis was a hobby, and he wasn't very good at it, though it wouldn't be admitted.

"Candy," he lied. He didn't want Tommy blabbing that he had Mrs Fencer in this state. He was in enough trouble as it was.

Florence was somewhat relieved. If this young guy knew anything at all, she would soon be on her way home.

"Come into the office. I'm in charge while my dad is away," Tommy proudly stated.

"Will it take long, I've got to get home before mom," Jack said, while looking at his watch.

Tommy knew it wasn't his mom he was worried about. He got into trouble with a couple of the guys from the pool hall, so was now on a curfew, enforced by the juvenile court. He smirked, but didn't say anything.

"I can't just snap my fingers. It's complicated. I need to know what it is, what the suggestion is," he pointed out.

More than that, he wondered if he could do anything at all. It would shatter his image if he failed to impress. Jack was slumming it with the pool room crowd, and would probably reveal the failure to them. It would be a joke with them, and infuriating for him. He was the geeky owners son, so tried to impress them with his powers of persuasion, though it had all been a bit of a hit and miss performance.

"She's been hypnotised to think she's a dumb blonde. Can you get her to forget I was involved?" Jack nervously asked.

Tommy wondered what Jack had been up to. He had already got out of his depth with the rough crowd in the pool hall. Perhaps he had messed with her, and didn't want the boyfriend to know.

"Sure, given some time. It might take a couple of hours, to do that," he explained.

Tommy looked at his watch, and at his mom's friend. She looked just young enough to get away with being around their age group. Not young enough to be hanging out with him, though he didn't much care what Tommy thought. He dare not tell him who she really was.

"I just need you to snap her out of it, and send her home. Can you do that?" Jack asked.

"Sure, no problem. You go home, before your mom gets in. Leave it to me. I'll send her home, without her knowing she left, is that OK?" Tommy reassured him.

Florence was frightened. She wanted to shout at Jack, but the bimbo was blocking her out. The bimbo was going along with whatever Jack told her to do. 'Please don't leave me here,' she wanted to scream.

"Hey Jack, like, I wanna to go home with you," Bimbo declared instead.

She swung her hips from side to side, looking up through sultry eyes, trying to get her own way. The girly tone of voice grated with Florence, but she was willing the girl on, to prevent being left there. Couldn't Jack see the way the guy was looking at her? He was almost licking his lips, ready to devour her.

"No! Stay here and do as you are told, Candy," Jack firmly stated.

All he wanted was to be rid of the problem. He took a hold of her shoulders and looked sternly in her face. The stupid bitch could cause him trouble, and he was in enough as it was. She was just the type of neighbour to go and complain about him to his mom. Mrs Michael, complained about the weekend party. The police turned up, everyone disappeared, and he was left with the problems.

"Candy, do as Tommy tells you, OK?" he carefully emphasised every word.

"OK!" Bimbo timidly acknowledged. She looked down at the scuffed flooring, looking hurt.

Tommy wondered if Jack had accidently hypnotised her, while playing around. Though she didn't seem to be his girlfriend, from the way he was so eager to abandon her. It must be a friend's girl as he said.

"I'll be home if you need me," Jack crossly said, and left.

Florence was working on her, trying to get her to forget about obeying anyone, and to listen to her.

"Hi! I'm Candy. Do I really have to, like, do as you tell me?" Candy petulantly asked.

"Yes you do," Tommy quickly replied. He needed her co-operation, though what he was going to do with her escaped him.

"That's no fun," Candy complained.

"Well you have to do as I say, so I can, err, help you," Tommy emphasised.

Tommy looked her over yet again. She was just the kind of girl who shunned him for being a geek. They were too busy primping their hair for a footballer, or a school hunk, to talk to him. Not that he had ever tried to talk to them. He went for the studious type, someone who could hold a conversation.

He was unsure what to do with her. If he really could snap her out of this it would impress him, let alone anyone else. He had to do something, so made a start.

"You're a pretty little blonde, aren't you," Tommy told her.

"Am I?" Bimbo asked. "Do you really think I'm pretty," Candy giggled.

"Oh! Yea! You're a gorgeous bimbo," he added, with a big grin on his face.

"Yes! Candy is a gorgeous bimbo, I like that," Candy smiled back.

This isn't what he had meant to say, it just tripped off his tongue. How could he react any differently to a big busted blonde. She was definitely over eighteen, though it was difficult to say how much older. He couldn't remember if Jack had an older brother, which might explain who she was.

Florence was frustrated from having her influence misdirected. The damn bimbo personality was getting in the way, distorting what she wanted it to do.

"Do you have a boyfriend?" he asked.

"No!" Bimbo giggled.

Florence didn't like the direction of the conversation. Being told to do as she was told so strongly, wouldn't help to wrest control back from the stupid one.

His interest veered away from who she was, toward what she was. A dumb blonde, Jack had said. Well, she reacted like one, and it was a convincing act. To test how deep the influence was he decided to see how far she could be pushed. If pushed beyond its limits, the hypnotic control might break.

"What do you like to do, Candy?" he asked.

"Oh, lots of things, really. I like makeup, gum, doing my hair, dressing up, shoes, like, I just love shoes," Bimbo joyfully giggled.

Florence tried to keep calm, letting the fool babble.

"What kind of shoes do you like, Candy?" he prompted.

"Like, not these, I love bright high heels. This dress is so drab, like it's so bad," she grimaced.

"If you don't like it, why are you wearing it?" he asked.

"Really, I just don't know. I just hate it! I like pink. Everything pink is fab!" she enthused.

"If you hate it so much you had better take it off," he suggested. The idea was both exciting, and might work to push her too far.

"I'm not sure? Does that mean you'll get me something in pink," she coyly asked.

"I might do," he replied.

"You won't think I'm naughty will you? I'm supposed to be a good girl. I guess I'm to do as you tell me. OK then," she said.

She looked as though something was wrong, but couldn't work it out. Maybe this would push her beyond the limits of the influence she was under.

"Like, you promise? To get me a nice pink dress?" she asked, with her hands gripping the hem.

"Sure, whatever you want," he promised.

"Cool!" she exclaimed, in a high pitched voice.

Tommy watched the unveiling of her body. The dress was caught under her breasts and she just pulled harder, lifting them up, almost under her chin. Inevitably the dress sprung up over her head, letting her breasts bounce free. They sat on top of the bra, with the nipples pointing at him.

"Nice tits! So very nice," he murmured.

He had spoken his thoughts out loud, and felt embarrassed over the rude remark. The feeling was pushed aside as she stood before him in a tiny bra and panties. The stockings with suspenders were amazing.

"Do you like them?" Bimbo asked.

Florence hadn't been listening, while trying to think of a way to break into the bimbo personality, and take back control. She was taken by surprise when the dress was pulled off. Standing before a stranger in her underwear was horrible, and so very wrong.

This young guy wasn't so innocent and nice as Jack. It seemed she was becoming a bystander to what was going on, without the slightest control. Both ideas collided to mean big trouble.

"What?" Tommy spluttered. He had been staring at her breasts. Not only that, she had heard him admiring them.

"Yes, they're magnificent. Lovely," he explained.

She looked down at them, and opened her eyes wide in surprise, seeing her nipples on show, "Oh! Sorry, sir," she exclaimed. "Candy is being a naughty girl," she demurely spoke.

"Stop! No need to cover up such beautiful tits," he grinned. He was no longer pushing her to break the hypnotic influence, he was enjoying himself too much.

"You sure? Someone's telling me to cover myself up," Bimbo worriedly said.

"Don't you worry about that. Ignore them, such lovely tits deserve to be shown off," he told her, thinking it was her conscience inhibiting her.

"Am I a slut?" she asked.

Florence was desperately trying to get the bimbo to cover up. The stupid girl couldn't see, or didn't care what she was doing to the young guy. She was a mature married woman, showing off her body like a slut. In a panic she shrieked at the bimbo that she was behaving like a slut.

"Yep! I think you are. Don't worry about it. You're a wonderful slut, with big bouncy tits. You're a marvellous blonde bimbo, a fabulous bimbo. Don't take any notice. Don't listen to that nagging inner voice. To be a good girl you just have to do as you're told. Just do as I say and you'll be a good girl," he said, with a big grin on his face.

"Do you really think I'm wonderful and marvellous?" Bimbo beamed back at him.

"You certainly are. You're a lovely blonde bimbo, and a perfect slut," he laughed.

"Oh! Like, thank you, sir," Bimbo bounced up and down, shaking her breasts at him.

Playing the game had given Florence a sense of freedom, allowing her to behave badly. Freeing her breasts for a young guy to ogle, hadn't been a part of the plan. Florence desperately tried to calm herself, in preparation to fight the next disgusting event.

"What should I do with the dress, sir?" she demurely asked.

Tommy hadn't even been aware she was still holding it. "Just put it in the filling cabinet, the bottom draw," he told her.

Florence warned her not to bend over so rudely. This time the bimbo didn't take any notice at all. She tried hard, but couldn't influence her in the slightest way. The damn boy had told the bimbo to ignore her, and the stupid bitch was doing it. Hell! What was she to do now?

Instead of being free of her inhibitions, she was trapped. Florence was a responsible married woman, trapped inside a stupid bimbo. She had always envied other girls wearing low tops, as her breasts had been too big, even before college. She looked slutty if she wasn't careful what she wore. Perhaps that's where it all started. The naughty games, allowing the slutty behaviour, was how she had wanted to behave all these years.

Tommy was watching her bend over the bottom draw of the filing cabinet. Struggling to pull it open, her hips and cheeks wriggled from side to side. The panties were disappearing between the glorious globes of her ass. Eventually the show came to an end as she dropped the dress into the draw.

"Has anyone taught you how to bend properly?" he asked, with a smirk on his face.

"Err, no, don't think so. Like is there a different way? Oh! Do you mean like a cheerleader?" Bimbo eagerly bounced up and down, waving her arms in the air.

He watched her tits settle as she calmed down. "Yea! That's right. Do you want me to train you?" he artfully asked.

"Oh, wow, like yeah! For sure! I'd just love to be a cheerleader. All those glitzy clothes and stuff," she again bounced her large breasts in his direction.

"OK! Let's do it," he laughed. "Stand with your legs apart, further. Now bend forward," he instructed.

He was leaning against the desk, when she fell forward. He caught her by her breasts, gripping them so she didn't land on her face. Not that he needed an excuse to grab a hold of a luscious body.

"See if you can touch the floor," he told her. Her face brushed his jeans as she descended. All the time he helped her, by holding on. Reluctantly he let go, to walk behind her.

She turned her head to look at him. "Is that OK? Did I do it right?" she asked, with a worried look on her face.

He studied her crotch where the panties clung to her lips. This close he could see a wet patch. Through her legs he could see her breasts hanging, like udders needing milking. That was a delightful thought, shelved for later. He wondered if he dare hold back any longer, as he was more than ready.

"Almost perfect. Can you straighten your legs? Your knees are bent," he commented.

He watched her bottom bounce up and down, while she tried to lock her knees. Her breasts jiggled around under her, with every failed attempt.

"Let me help," he said.

"Oh! Yes please, sir. Whatever it takes, I'll do. I have to do as I'm told, so just tell me. I'd love to be trained," Bimbo gushed with enthusiasm.

"Well, it looks to me like these panties are too tight. You should take them off. After all you did say you would do anything," Tommy suggested, with a wish and crossed fingers.

"Oh! The voice in my head is shouting at me again," Bimbo complained. He lifted her head in both hands. Take no notice, ignore it, you can't hear it.

Florence had screamed at the stupid one, not to dare remove her panties. She had almost regained control, when the obnoxious boy spoke. The bimbo personality was listening to him, and was trying hard to ignore her. Shit! The bimbo was following his instructions. The bimbo was blocking her out.

Fuck! She knew it had been on his mind, to fuck the bimbo, but it was her body he was going to use. Florence whimpered in a corner of her own mind, giving up for the moment. No! Please, don't let him fuck me, please! He's just a young ruffian, a guy from the wrong side of town. It's bad enough letting him make me perform these rude exercises. Surely he won't fuck me!

"Are you sure, sir? You won't think I'm rude, will you? I'm not supposed to be naughty, I'm supposed to be a good girl," Bimbo asked. She hesitated, with her thumbs in her panties. There was something wrong with what she was doing, but she so wanted to be a cheerleader.

"You were told to be a good girl, and do as you were told. So be a good girl and let me train you properly. Do as you are told, quickly," Tommy demanded.

He watched her reluctantly pull them off, and hand them to him. "Good girl! Now try bending over with your hands on the desk," he nervously said.

With legs spread she bent over, leaning against the desk. The sight of her cute ass, with pussy lips protruding was truly wonderful.

"Your still stiff and need to be more subtle with the movements. I'll massage your muscles, to help you." Tommy said, with a groan.

"Thank you, sir," Bimbo said.

Tommy massaged her thighs over the stocking tops. It was impossible to resist pushing his fingers between her lips.

"Err? Sir? Do you need to do that? That's my naughty bits," Bimbo asked.

"Does it feel good?" he heavily whispered.

"Well? Like, yes, it's nice, mmmm, very nice, sir," she replied, starting to respond.

No! Please don't let him do that. Florence couldn't escape the arousal flooding through her body. The bimbo wouldn't resist, and she had lost the ability to fight, even if the bimbo would listen. She felt every sensation. A stranger was rubbing her lips, sexing her up, without a chance of stopping him.