Bulked Up, Dumbed Down

Brooklyn held the pose until fresh beads of sweat were forming on her forehead, and she'd go on holding it until Ms. Carmine told her to stop. After a few more minutes, her owner made a little, impatient gesture with her scotch glass.

"Another pose," she demanded.

"Yes, Ms. Carmine," Brooklyn said, and obeyed.

Ms. Carmine put her through several more poses, taking her time with each one to carefully study and admire Brooklyn's new body. As she stared and sipped her drink, she started relaxing a little, gradually slipping out of her suit jacket and loosening her blouse. Brooklyn was on fire from the attention. She couldn't keep the dumb, jockish grin from her face. She knew she was hot, and she wanted other people to appreciate it too. And the best way to make that happen was to do anything Ms. Carmine wanted.

"Perfect," Ms. Carmine purred, after several long, arduous minutes spent holding poses. Brooklyn shivered. There was no higher praise. "Brooklyn, why don't you come here?"

Brooklyn obeyed, walking around Ms. Carmine's desk until she was standing right in front of her.

"Hmm," Ms. Carmine mused, finishing the last few sips of her drink. "You know, I think you should be 'Brooke,' rather than 'Brooklyn'. A little less femme. Leans more into your jock girl appeal. What do you think, Brooke?"

Brooklyn - Brooke - just grinned, entirely at ease with having her own name taken from her. "That's a great idea, Ms. Carmine."

"Of course it is." Ms. Carmine set her glass down on her task, and licked her lips. "I think it's time for me to introduce you to the last part of your training. Get down on your knees."

Brooke obeyed without question. She looked up. Her owner was looming over her, a wicked expression on her face.

"I want you to go down on me," Ms, Carmine told her. "Do you have a problem with that?"

Brooke almost said 'yes' right away. Almost. But something about what her owner was proposing itched at her uncomfortably, and she couldn't stop wondering why. Brooke spoke slowly; it had been a long time since she'd had to think for herself, and it didn't come easily.

"Why, uh, do you want me to do that, Ms. Carmine?" Brooke asked dumbly. "What kind of, um, training is that?"

Ms. Carmine made a displeased little 'tsk' noise that made Brooke flinch. "It's really very simple, for anyone with half a brain," she snapped. "You're a model. My model. You exist to look good, and make me money. I'm sure even your empty, muscle-bound head can imagine what certain women might want from a big jock hunk like you. What they might be willing to pay for."

Brooke's eyes widened slowly. "You're... you're gonna like... sell me?"

"Sell you? Oh please." Ms. Carmine waved a hand dismissively. "It's much more profitable to auction off a little time with you, here and there. I've put far too much effort into you to simply trade you away." Despite how much bigger and stronger she now was, Brooke trembled as Ms. Carmine's smirk became particularly twisted. "At least, not unless you piss me off the way your predecessor did."

That gave Brooke chills. Being separated from her owner? She couldn't even imagine it. Serving Ms. Carmine was what made everything make sense. Her owner did all the thinking for her, and all she asked for in exchange was a little loyalty. Only, right now, it wasn't making sense. Brooke tried to think, and found it so hard. Her head was so foggy these days. She really was a meathead.

"But... uh..." Brooke said slowly. "Doesn't that seem kinda... like... weird? For a model? Why... why am I even..."

The words came out of her mouth in a thick, deep, drawn-out way that she knew made her sound incredibly stupid. Ms. Carmine knew it too, and laughed in her face.

"I don't care how you think it seems, idiot." Brooke's owner's scorn felt like a slap to the face. "I don't pay you to think. I pay you because I want to turn you into a thick-headed himbo girl for me to rent out. Clearly, I need to remind you of a few things."

"What are you-"

Before Brooke could finish her sentence, Ms. Carmine reached down and pressed a fingertip against Brooke's forehead. Brooke froze. She was two hundred pounds of amazonian muscle, and Ms. Carmine had made her so weak, a single finger was all it took to render her helpless and mindless.

"You poor, stupid girl," Ms. Carmine simpered. Her eyes were shining with glee. "You're such a pathetically slow learner, Brooke. You still don't seem to understand how this works. You see, you're a big, dumb jock now. And big, dumb jock girls like you don't know how to think. All you need to worry about is looking good, and doing what you're told. That's why you have clever women like me to make the decisions for you. Do you understand now? Did I say that slowly enough?"

Brooke nodded dumbly. It was starting to make sense again. Each of Ms. Carmine's words ran right through her to her core. She'd been hypnotized countless times over the course of her training. She had no defenses left. She'd been conditioned to accept everything her owner told her as absolute truth, and her weak, entranced mind would rewrite itself to make sure that was so.

She was stupid. Brooke was a stupid, musclebound jock who couldn't think for herself - and thankfully, she didn't need to. Ms. Carmine had told her that hundreds of times, but as ever, it completely undid her. Brooke's mind went slack, her face relaxing into a dumb, broad, vapid smile as she emptied herself of thought and intelligence. It was so easy to get dumber, now that Ms. Carmine had shown her how. It was just like relaxing a muscle. All Brooke needed to do was relax, and let herself become brainless.

It felt so good, too. Being stupid was incredible. It was a relief, just as relaxing a muscle was. There was such bliss to be had in letting her mind become simple. In letting herself not understand things. In accepting that someone else knew better. Brooke let out a long, happy sigh as she felt her head become light and pleasant, like it was full of so much hot air. Being dumb suited her. No more anxiety, no more stress, no more long, complicated thoughts that had her tying her head in knots. All she had to do was let herself not think, until she got so dumb she couldn't think even if she wanted to. Ms. Carmine seemed to salivate over telling her that it would start to become permanent. Brooke couldn't wait.

The last but most important thing about being dumb was that it made her an even better model for Ms. Carmine. Brooke's owner wanted her to be a big, dumb himbo - the bigger and dumber, the better. And pleasing her owner was the most important thing of all.

Ms. Carmine just watched intently as Brooke's weak, shattered mind worked its way through those thoughts, practically brainwashing itself at her merest suggestion. She waited until Brooke's eyes grew wide, glassy and placid.

"There you go." She laughed cruelly. "Did you finally get that through your tiny little head?"

Brooke nodded thickly, oblivious to the insult.

"Good." Ms. Carmine started stroking Brooke's cheek with her thumb, petting her in the condescending, indulgent way she might have petted a prize animal. "So. You're going to go down on me now, because I'm telling you to. Just like you'll go down on anyone else, if I tell you to. Understand?"

Brooke nodded again. Her owner's earlier words were still echoing in her head. All she needed to worry about was looking good and doing what she was told. That was all that mattered.

"Then get to it," Ms. Carmine ordered sharply, leaning back in her office chair and releasing Brooke's face.

"Y-yes, Ms. Carmine," Brooke gasped, as awareness rushed back into her head. With all her hesitation hypnotically banished, she crawled between her owner's spread legs submissively, mouth open, ready to serve.

As Ms. Carmine leaned back, she reached down to hike up the hem of her neat pencil skirt, exposing that underneath, there was already an unmistakable, throbbing bulge in her tights. Brooke was about to reach up and pull them down, but before she could, her owner used her sharp, manicured fingernails to rip her tights apart impatiently, and swiftly pull her panties aside to let her dick, fully hard, spring forth.

Brooke immediately placed her lips on the tip of her owner's shaft, and started to suck her cock.

Her first efforts were clumsy and unpracticed, but she more than made up for it with her enthusiasm. This was her owner's cock. She was pleasuring her owner. That was the most important thing she could imagine. Brooke kissed, licked and sucked adoringly between Ms. Carmine's legs, all her attention devoted to making her owner feel as good as possible. She knew it probably made for a strange image - a big, strong, toppy-looking butch like her, kneeling and sucking like a submissive slut - but somehow that only added to the perverse joy Brooke took in what she was doing. She knew she made a wonderful submissive. And as Ms. Carmine started to moan from above her, Brooke started to feel a deep satisfaction in the primal, butch, cavewoman part of her brain. Making other girls moan was what jock girls like her were for. It stroked her ego like nothing else.

Until Ms. Carmine reached down and chided her with a small but sharp slap to the face.

"Wow, you really do need training," Brooke's owner moaned, callously grabbing Brooke's short hair and using it to force the powerless butch girl deeper onto her girlcock. "Fortunately, I'm here to provide."

Yes, Ms. Carmine, Brooke instinctively tried to reply, but with her mouth full of Ms. Carmine's thick shaft, all she managed to do was make a series of muffled grunts that seemed only to add to her owner's pleasure.

"Oh, good girl!" she laughed, making Brooke moan in time with her. "My hypnosis really did a number on you. Guess you were never very smart to begin with, huh?"

Brooke couldn't reply. All her attention was devoted to keeping herself from choking as Ms. Carmine forced her cock into her throat.

"Well, don't worry," Ms. Carmine continued, starting to grind her hips back and forth, fucking Brooke's face without mercy. "Dumb girls do better with me around. No more thinking. No more hovering at the gym. Just keep getting nice and big and stupid for me, and let me rent you out for other women to use. How does that sound? A life as a brainless himbo sex toy? I think it's perfect for you."

Brooke moaned desperately, weakly nodding agreement even as she failed to understand what she was agreeing to. She was getting light-headed. Her owner wasn't giving her any chances to breathe, but Brooke wasn't about to tap out. She was loyal and obedient. She was going to whatever she was told, and right now that meant sucking cock.

"Fuck!" Ms. Carmine gasped, her shaft already throbbing dangerously. "Your throat feels so good, Brooke. Once I get you trained into a real suckslut you're gonna be driving women like me crazy."

From between her legs, Brooke's moans only grew louder at the prospect of being an even better submissive for her owner. Driven only by an irresistible urge to please, she used what little remained of her awareness to keep bobbing her head back and forth on Ms. Carmine's cock in rhythm with the businesswoman's eager thrusts, clumsily using her tongue to lick the head of her dick whenever she could.

"Mmmf, this is the best," Ms. Carmine moaned. As much as the blowjob, she seemed to be reveling in what she had done to Brooke. In the fact she had turned a meek office intern into this - into an imposing, butch jock who was currently obsessed with nothing except deep-throating cock. "Fuck, I'm close. You're going to swallow every drop, understand?"

Brooke was on the verge of passing out from lack of air, leaving her far too brainless to respond - and far too brainless to resist or refuse. When Ms. Carmine's moans started to turn curt and gruff, Brooke simply braced herself and tried to relax her body as much as she could, fastening her lips around the base of her owner's cock as Ms. Carmine came, her balls pumping a huge load down Brooke's throat.

By the time Ms. Carmine released her and allowed to back off for a breath, Brooke was seeing stars. Even once she started to get her breath back, all she could see was Ms. Carmine's haughty, smirking face staring down at her. Ms. Carmine was, in turn, laughing at the expression on Brooke's - at the distinct, suggestive blush in her cheeks, at the utterly blank, blissed-out, unintelligent look in her eyes, and at the small trickle of cum and drool that had just barely managed to escape the brainwashed girl's lips.

"Not bad for a first time," Ms. Carmine praised, using one finger to clean up the mess and then slipping it past Brooke's lips for her to suck on obediently. "You're definitely a keeper, Brooke, at least for now. In fact, I think we might almost be ready for your first auction."

***

"As you can see, she's one of the finest specimens I've yet produced," Ms. Carmine announced, owning the whole stage with her unshakable confidence even when she was just standing at a podium set to one side, speaking into a microphone. "And a very promising young talent. She's already been featured in sports magazines across the country - as well as some other, rather more adult publications."

A small, appreciative laugh ran around the room. Ms. Carmine was smiling. She had her clients in the palm of her hand.

"I'm sure discerning buyers such as yourselves need no more introduction to Brooke Mayer than that," she concluded, spreading her palms. "So, shall we start the bidding at five thousand dollars for a night with her?"

Instantly, hands started flying up around the room. Ms. Carmine started counting, listing off bids and bidders. Brooke ignored all of it. She didn't need to understand the fine details of what was going on, and besides, large numbers had quickly become something of a weak point of hers.

She just needed to pose and look like the hottest slab of lesbian beef on the menu - in some of Ms. Carmine's more offhanded words - and that was exactly what Brooke was doing. To her, the auction was just another catwalk. She was wearing tight jeans, an open flannel shirt, and nothing else. Her pose was meant to look casual, like she wasn't showing impossibly good abs and like her flannel shirt wasn't constantly threatening to fall a little further open and expose her tits. The room was filled with women in expensive suits, and all their eyes were on Brooke. She loved it. It got her so hot.

Brooke didn't mind being auctioned off anymore. Not at all. A few private conversations with her owner had set her straight about that. She was a submissive. An asset. It was only sensible for Ms. Carmine to make money off of her. And besides, making other women moan all night long was exactly what a dumb jock like lived for.

But even that didn't matter. Not really. All that mattered was that she was doing what she was told. Everything was better when Ms. Carmine did all the thinking for her.

"And... sold!" Ms. Carmine declared, as the room filled with polite applause. "Congratulations on your prize, Ms. Wardell. I certainly won't force you to sit through any more formalities. You're welcome to enjoy your new purchase right away."

A tall, handsome, rich-looking woman in the third row of the auditorium rose to her feet and started making her way towards the exit with a gracious nod. Brooke also started to leave the stage. She knew Ms. Carmine had prepared a private room for them, and she knew she was going to spend the rest of the night doing whatever she could to blow Ms. Wardell's mind.

As she left the stage, she passed behind Ms. Carmine, who stopped her briefly with a hand. Brooke's owner put her lips close to Brooke's ear, and whispered in poisonous, sadistic tones:

"Let's see what you can do, fucktoy. Do a good job with her, and I'll use your ass just the way you like tomorrow. Do a bad job, and... well... maybe I'll have to reconsider about auctioning you off permanently."

Brooke shivered, blushing. She didn't bristle at the cruel threat. Her owner had made her perfectly docile and perfectly loyal. All she wanted was to please - but the prospect of her owner fucking her as a reward certainly bolstered her enthusiasm.

"Yes, Ms. Carmine," Brooke replied submissively, and hurried off to seduce the woman who had bought her, just as she knew she'd be doing over and over and over again.

At least, for as long as she was still valuable.