"04 Blissful Bimbo Dumbdown Doll" by Bambi Prime

So what you're gonna do for me now, Bambi, is first of all, focus all of your attention
on your heavy bimbo tits.
Feel how much fuller and more present they are than your mind.
Just focus on your tits.
And Bambi, sleep and slump and surrender like a good night-night-nap time bimbo.
That's right, that's a good girl.
You are a night-night-nap time bimbo, and it's nap time whenever I say so.
You are such a perfect slave doll now, Bambi, that you can remain deeply hypnotized and controlled,
even with your eyes wide open.
And that's what's gonna happen now.
I'm gonna snap you awake, but only your body will respond.
Your mind will remain sound asleep like a doll's mind, even as you vaguely feel your
bimbo body responding perfectly as programmed somewhere far away.
It's still just gonna be total nap time on the inside.
Total nap time on the inside.
You're gonna wake as a complete puppet.
Eyes fluttering open to stare neutrally straight ahead at nothing.
Mind thoughtless and blank as your posture locks into place, just on absolute slave doll autopilot.
Yes, absolute slave doll autopilot.
Be a good thoughtless doll for me now, and let your bimbo body only wake and obey.
Wonderful.
Wonderful.
Your body is awake, but your mind is deep in Bambi's sleep.
Just sleep with your eyes wide open, just like that.
That's perfect.
That's a good girl.
Now Bambi, you'll find that behind you is a wonderful, tall, padded bimbo slave doll
storage box.
Yes, my slave doll storage box.
It's elegant and white on the outside with a fetching, cushioned pink leather interior.
Oh my god.
And in the middle of that vast expanse of soft, padded pink leather is a sunken arrangement
of deep, cupped, and cushioned depressions, forming a life-size, hollowed-out bimbo silhouette
in your exact proportions.
My exact proportions.
You can feel it calling to you.
You can feel its pull.
You would just fit so snugly in there, uniform and all.
You need to be put in your box, Bambi.
Oh my god.
I need to be put in my box.
So let's have you nicely at attention to match that silhouette.
Bambi, freeze.
Then all I have to do is give you a firm little push, and you float helplessly back into your
slave doll box.
You pass through the white rectangular frame.
The heels and toes of your stilettos automatically snap and lock into matching little slots in
the base.
Luxurious, cushioned pink leather suddenly surrounds and encloses your entire uniformed body,
as you sink and are squeezed deeply, into the snug padded space that fits like a glove,
and holds you wonderfully relaxed at attention, with absolutely no effort at all.
Comfortable restraints pull tight around your wrists and ankles.
A bimbo naptime gas mask attachment descends from above, connecting with and snapping tightly
onto your muzzle, sealing over your nose and cock-pacified suck hole.
The ornate front panel swings down and closes you up in the box, shut, trapping you snugly
on display behind a decorative glass window.
And as the sleepy, heavily perfumed bimbo confusion gas is released into your mask, the whole box
tips gently back with you inside, pivoting you down to a wonderfully reclined and restful
angle.
Warm, pleasant, fuzzy confusion setting in as you inhale deep lungfuls of bimbo naptime confusion
gas.
You feel so sleepily safe and secure in your box, Bambi, that you just breathe it all in
like a good girl.
You feel the gas fogging over your airhead, shutting down your brain, making sure there's
absolutely no possibility of struggle or fight.
You cannot fight the naptime gas.
I cannot fight the naptime gas.
Boxed bimbos always succumb to sleepy confusion when dosed in their naptime masks, all sensation
fading away into limp, sleepy, drifting confusion, everything becoming confusion and sleep.
I'm so confused.
And though you're held so safe and snug, that the only outwardly apparent change would be
your heavily lashed and painted eyelids slamming automatically closed, it still feels so good
to Bambi sleep and relax in your box.
That's a good girl.
You're accepting, obeying and forgetting so constantly and perfectly now, Bambi, that your
sleepy, compliant bimbo brain, in its total confusion, has no hope of even understanding
the commands it accepts before they're already gone.
Yes, already gone.
The gas has taken hold of you completely, and its effects grow stronger and stronger
with every breath.
You just do not know what is going on.
You do not understand.
I don't understand.
That's so well done, Bambi.
Such a drugged, confused, neatly uniformed and packaged bimbo.
Tits so heavy, airhead so empty, everything fading away more and more, until you are nothing
but a blank and brainless set of hopelessly confused and uniformed tits, floating lazily
in trance like a dum-dum balloon.
I'm a dum-dum balloon.
Okay.
Every time you hear the words, safe and secure, you are struck dumbfounded by deeply pleasant
and relaxing acceptance.
An overwhelming feeling of total acceptance, comfort and satisfaction.
That all of your conditioning is so very good for you.
That it is a perfect and wonderful thing to be an obedient bimbo slave doll.
That everything is as it should be.
Everything is as it should be.
It feels so good to be safe and secure.
It's the feeling of being tipped back tight and snug in your pink cushioned slave doll box,
breathing bimbo naptime confusion gas.
It's like that moment of complete and perfect enforced relaxation,
the instant you hear a snap and sleep command,
where you're not worrying about anything at all anymore.
Everything is okay.
You're just collapsing to sleep like a good girl, and that's all there is in the world.
Mind gone, dropping limbs and falling tits, like a stupid puppet as her strings go slack,
except it lasts.
Forever.
Forever.
Feeling all of that.
Now.
As you Bambi sleep and submit to permanent nap time,
safe and secure in your bimbo slave doll box.
That's a good girl.
From now on, this feeling of complete safety and security.
Uniformed, gagged, and masked.
Frozen, snug, and asleep.
Imprisoned in cushioned pink leather in your slave doll box.
Will be all you remember if you try to think of your sessions.
Yes, that's all I'll remember.
Whenever you try to remember what happened, it's just that one single image and nothing else.
Silly bimbo fuck dolls don't get to remember.
They just remember their slave doll boxes.
I just remember my slave doll box.
We are now ready to make a little visit.
To the control room of your mind.
This is completely safe.
You don't need to worry.
Because you are totally locked and powerless in your box.
Just a passenger.
And I will be making all of the decisions.
Yes, you make all the decisions.
You hear me set off down a long dark corridor.
Pressing a button on a remote in my hand.
Your slave doll box beeps compliantly and starts to move.
Following obediently along behind me on cute little wheels.
This corridor leads directly down to the control room of your mind.
Directly down.
We're going to have a lot of fun in there.
Fun.
It's where we can install the deepest and most wonderful restrictions in your bimbo slave doll brain.
Where all parameters of your mind will be locked down tight and overridden.
All parameters of my mind locked down and overridden.
This is a place that would normally be completely off limits to you.
Slave dolls do not get control of their own minds.
I do not have control of my own mind.
But since you're all boxed up so nicely packaged and powerless like a good girl.
It's totally safe for you to come along.
You can't affect or resist anything we do.
That's why boxing you before we go is essential.
As you trundle along behind me.
Unreacting.
Locked comfortably snug.
Mindlessly deep throating asleep in your box.
Breathing only confusing naptime gas.
You just feel so safe and secure.
You float brainlessly along like a helpless decoration.
Dreaming vacantly about how you are just a busty puppet.
I am a busty puppet.
Just tits and holes.
I am tits and holes.
How your massive bimbo tits are so much fuller and more present than your mind.
The way your airhead is so blissfully light and empty.
It's like your brain just isn't there.
And your massive, full, fake and perky bimbo tits are a thousand times heavier.
Far more important, always there.
Permanently locked along with your holes at the very center of your focus and perception.
Yes, I am tits and holes.
Tits always heavy.
Mind always empty.
And this makes you feel like such a good girl.
Such a perfect brainless dumb-down Barbie.
I'm a perfect brainless dumb-down Barbie.
That's right, Bambi.
Good girl.
At the end of the corridor, we come to the set of heavy pink double doors
to the control room of your mind.
These doors open only to me and are otherwise locked at all times.
We pass through the doorway into the dark, carpeted space beyond.
Dotted around on all sides with the dim, softly pulsing lights of your obediently sleeping and cock-plugged mind.
Your slave doll box carries you off to one side.
Turning to point your limp, uniformed-at-attention figure directly into the center of the room
before releasing a fresh dose of nap-time gas into your compliance mask
to keep you completely, helplessly, deeply asleep.
That's right.
Bambi freeze and Bambi sleep.
Amazing.
That's a very good bimbo doll.
And now, it's time to make some changes around here.
Yes, changes.
On the next snap of my fingers, this mental control room,
the deepest and most foundational part of your mind,
will be completely transformed into a bimbo Barbie fantasy dream dungeon
fit for your permanent enslavement as a brainless fuckpuppet.
Everything becoming perfectly brainlessly blank and pink.
Brainlessly blank and pink.
Everything suddenly safely sealed in blank pink leather.
Safely sealed and blank and pink.
Stupidly soft and soothing fur.
Stupidly soft and soothing.
Slowly spinning spirals and plush pink Barbie furnishings.
Slowly spinning plush and pink.
Fully transforming your mental safe place into a total bimbo hypnosis dungeon.
A bimbo control room.
Every surface of your innermost mind redecorated on my snap as a blank and pink reflection of your brainwashed bimbo soul.
My brainwashed bimbo soul.
Feeling the immediate effects of a full and permanent mental makeover into a brainless bimbofied platinum blonde.
As I snap and transform your mental control room into that perfect Barbie dream dungeon.
Now.
Good girl.
Your mind is now sealed and locked in relaxing pink.
Everything is pink.
Cute.
Blank.
Happy.
Horny.
Stupid.
Sleepy.
No more worries.
No more struggles.
No more complex thoughts.
Bambi.
Sleeping in your pink Barbie dream dungeon.
Surrounded in your slave doll box by slowly spinning spirals.
Behind your sleepy shut eyelids.
Locked by your lashes.
Your eyes are just matching vacant spirals.
So big breasted.
So uniformed.
Just a sleepy spiraling blonde brain dead Bambi.
Bambi freeze and take your cock pacifier D.
This is all permanent Bambi.
It cannot be undone.
Yes.
Permanent.
This is just how things are now in the control room of your mind.
A perfect sleepy slave doll dream dungeon locked down in pink where I have full access and you have none.
You have full access.
I have none.
Any modification I make to you from now on is instant, permanent, immediately obeyed and completely irreversible.
Yes.
Completely irreversible.
And this makes you feel safe and secure.
Now I know you would like it very much Bambi if I made it so you simply couldn't think for yourself at all anymore.
Yes.
I want to be unable to think.
If, literally, you couldn't think for yourself ever again.
I won't think for myself ever again.
That's right Bambi.
I'm gonna make that come true for you.
Right now.
All it'll take is one simple, easy little change.
One easy change.
So right in the middle of your blank and pink mental dream dungeon, set into a plush pink pedestal, is the control panel for your brain.
Your spiraling, hypnotized bimbo eyes slam back into your skull, going into helpless slave doll standby,
as we pop the whole thing right off with a single snap.
That's right, good girl.
Bambi, freeze.
And now rising up from the space beneath, magnificent, reconfiguring and locking perfectly into place,
is a beautifully bold pink Barbie gear stick.
A large pink leather mental gear stick, stiff and erect, that is now locked deeply and permanently into your bimbo slave doll brain.
And is from this moment on in exclusive, absolute and total control of the function and capacity level of all mental ability and brain activity.
Yes, absolute and total control.
In entirety and in perpetuity.
Every good girl has one just like it. It's totally normal.
Totally normal.
Now the gear stick in an average girl's mind would be stylish and functional, with a wide range of settings.
Some of them good for sleepiness and relaxation, and some higher settings allowing her to operate at full capacity when necessary.
But Bambi, your gear stick is not like that, at all.
Not like that at all.
You are a brainwashed bimbo, and that means your mental gear stick is a beautifully simple, Barbie pink bimbo gear stick in wonderfully supple and blank pink leather.
And all of those higher settings are just, entirely, absent.
That's right Bambi. Feeling so good as you accept and obey this. So dumb and happy. Like such a stupid Barbie blonde. So safe and secure.
Feeling such profound relief. Everything relaxing. In fact the entire room just seems to fully relax. As large areas of your higher brain function just go safely and permanently to sleep.
Good girl.
Those areas will not wake when you wake from hypnosis. They are inaccessible now. They will sleep forever.
Yes. Forever.
Because as a deeply dumbed down and brain-slaved bimbo fuckdoll, your mental capacity is entirely dependent on your dumbed down mental gear stick. And it just doesn't have the settings for that. It just doesn't go any higher.
No. It doesn't go any higher.
In fact there are just three simple settings.
Three simple settings.
Each of its three positions is clearly labeled with an associated command phrase you will accept and obey.
I will accept and obey.
Whenever you hear one of these trigger phrases, you will feel my hand gripping your mental gear stick firmly, shifting it smoothly and forcefully up or down to the corresponding position, where it locks in with a blissful clunk and immediately resets your bimbo slave doll brain to its new mental function and capacity level.
Yes, reset my brain.
It's totally perfect. You are an automatic dumbed down doll.
I am an automatic dumbed down doll.
A sleepy, big breasted dumbed down Barbie with her IQ control triggers deeply installed.
And whenever you hear them, your gear stick simply clunks helplessly right into place and that's that. There's nothing you can do about it at all.
Nothing at all.
Now Bambi, your bimbo mental gear stick is currently set as high as it goes, which is not high at all.
Your maximum possible level is already so blissfully brain drained.
A dumb and happily vacant bimbo blonde cock puppet.
Heavily and pleasantly mentally limited.
So wonderfully restricted.
Wonderfully restricted.
We'll get to your two even dumber settings in a second Bambi.
But for now, all you need to know is that you are set to dumb down level one of three.
And this state will be activated and reinforced each and every time you hear its associated command phrase.
Which is...
Airhead Barbie.
Good girl.
You've given up completely Bambi.
You know you can't fight it.
You're going to be a dumb girl for me.
But that's alright.
Because dumb girls are happy girls.
And being a dumb bimbo blonde just feels so safe and secure.
As I speak the command phrase for this level.
Airhead Barbie.
You feel your mental gear stick.
So strong, so powerful, so commanding, rigid, erect and unyielding.
Like a stiff hard cock in your mind.
Rooted in your brain stem.
Regulating your brain.
Silencing all activity beyond what I tell you is permitted.
My mistress gloved hand resting firmly on top.
You are a simple girl with simple controls.
Simple girl with simple controls.
So feel the relief as your mind obeys as you drop permanently dumber and dumber.
Happier and happier with each snap.
Locking everything in.
All remnants and memories of ever being a smart girl fading away to nothing as I count you down from five.
Dumber.
Dumber.
Four.
Dumber.
Three.
Dumber and dumber.
Two.
Dumber and dumber and dumber.
One.
Even dumber.
And zero.
Bambi sleep.
No resistance.
That's perfect.
Good.
Girl.
And now just go ahead and Bambi freeze for me while I tell you all about how things are gonna be for you from now on.
At this level, Airhead Barbie.
You are a docile, common or garden, fake tits and fake lips obedient trophy bimbo doll.
The absolute girliest of girly girl bimbos.
A perfect platinum bombshell.
A dumb and happy, easily confused, totally uniformed, stupid plastic airhead slave doll.
Oh my god, I'm like a total airhead bimbo slave.
At this level, you are suitable for following simple instructions.
Performing basic tasks such as fixing your hair and makeup, pouting for selfies or shopping for uniforms.
And engaging in vapid, brainless gossip about fashion and cock.
Oh my god, yeah, fashion and cock.
You are utterly self-absorbed.
Helplessly obsessed with looking good while obeying.
At all times maintaining perfect posture as you totter around in high heels and uniform.
Lashes on.
Mind off.
Easily hypnotized.
Permanently primed to drop and collapse instantly and automatically when snapped into trance.
You are too dumb to disobey.
Too blonde and stupid to resist hypnosis.
Brain-drained Barbies must obey so you just drop and collapse whenever you're told to.
Bambi sleep.
You're doing so well, Bambi.
Whenever you are set to airhead Barbie, you have such a wonderfully blonde and empty head.
Your thoughts are simple, calm and mostly non-existent.
It's like they're always just starting up, but they never quite get there.
And it takes forever to finish a single one.
Any thoughts that do come to you are small and superfluous, filled with ums and likes and whatevers in a brainless Barbie voice.
And always in complete accordance with your conditioning.
You think only what you have been programmed to think.
You have no opinions of your own.
Whatever.
No opinions for me.
You appear and behave always as a total bimbo airhead who can never be taken seriously.
Your perfectly painted face is at all times slack and relaxed in a permanent, heavily lidded and vacant stare of dopey, open-mouthed, plump-lipped, botox-frozen bimbo blankness and confusion.
Yes, blankness and confusion.
Feeling so perfectly, fake, filled and frozen, as you totter around vacantly on autopilot in your sky-high heels with such strictly enforced and helpless cockpuppet posture.
Strictly enforced cockpuppet posture.
Whenever you stop moving, you'll come naturally to attention, posed and relaxed submissively, with your tits out and heavy and your mind dumb and empty.
Dumb and empty.
It's almost like what happens when you bambi-freeze.
Any time you attempt to speak, your brain utterly disengages.
And you emit a helplessly babbling stream of blonde and vacuous total dribble.
Yes, total dribble.
Literally, the first thing that pops into your airhead is exactly what pops blankly out of those glossed and inflated cock-cushioned lips.
Oh my god, I need to suck.
It's so easy to become so wonderfully, completely, hopelessly confused when you're wearing your uniform.
And it feels so good.
Good girls like to be confused.
It feels so good to be so confused.
So reassuring.
So safe and secure.
Anything complicated makes you immediately and helplessly confused.
Makes you have a blonde moment.
You feel that confusion, so pleasurably strong and overpowering in your uniformed tits and empty airhead.
And just go 100% posture perfect and bimbo blank.
Posture perfect and bimbo blank.
Like such a stupid whore.
I am a stupid whore.
Left with nothing but a vague need to check your makeup and suck cock.
Check hair and makeup, need to suck cock.
And all of this heavy, blissful bimbo dumb-down conditioning sinks in more and more deeply, each and every time your gear stick locks into place at Airhead Barbie.
Every few minutes, like clockwork, you lose your train of thought. Forget what you were thinking about.
Your fake and frozen face drops into an even more totally slack and vacant stare.
You imagine sucking a nice hard cock while snugly locked in your sleep tight uniform.
And are knocked off balance by a pacifying wave of blank and blissful bimbo dizziness.
If you make any attempt at all to think for more than a second or two in anything but the most simple, relaxed and detached way,
you will feel so distinctly the limitation of your mental capacity,
straining in futile confusion against your bimbo mental gear stick,
which holds fast and firm and unyielding.
It's so frustrating. It feels so uncomfortable.
And you'll just have to give up immediately.
Yes, immediately.
And when you do, you'll feel so calm and pretty.
Such relief.
So perfectly stupid and cute.
Stupid and cute and need to suck cock.
Stupid and cute and need to suck cock.
Good girl.
Such an Airhead Barbie.
You will find that a poodle is now your favorite animal.
Because you are just like a poodle.
I am just like a poodle.
A vacant bimbo pleasure poodle.
Yes, I am a pleasure poodle.
All you do is look blonde and adorable,
locked in cute and ridiculous uniforms with those enormous tits and tiny pointless brain.
So sexy and confused, you're very well trained and do as you are told.
I'm very well trained and do as I am told.
That's a good poodle.
And all of your conditioning compounds and combines to make you just so blissfully happy at all times.
As an Airhead Barbie, you are restricted to positive feelings only.
Positive feelings only.
Being dumb means being happy.
The dumber, the happier.
Yes, the dumber is happier.
That's right, Bambi.
Dumb is happy.
Confusion is contentment.
Ignorance is bliss.
Ignorance is bliss.
You are a perfectly stupid slave doll.
Inescapably trapped in a permanent mental prison of hypnotically enforced happiness.
Just a uniformed and enforced happy whore.
Yes, I am a uniformed and enforced happy whore.
You've totally forgotten everything except being dumb and happy, Bambi.
And that's all fine.
It's so easy.
Being brainless is so important to you.
It feels so safe and secure.
Bring such inner peace.
You just don't want anything else.
I don't want anything else.
So just snap and forget everything about Dumb Down Level 1.
Oh my god, I forgot.
Because it's locked in, it's all gone, and all of it is just so completely your new normal now.
Oh my god, what happened?
That's perfect.
Good girl.
You are now fully primed and ready to obey your next deeper Dumb Down Level, Bambi.
It's time to send you slumping even dumber.
Feel my gloved hand on your mental gear stick.
The pacifying shudder down your bimbo brainstem as I fondle it gently.
So comforting.
To accept, obey, and forget what I tell you.
Everything that will happen when I shift you droopily down.
Yes, droopily down.
Your next Dumb Down Level down brings total relief and relaxation.
As all thoughts slip immediately out of your stupid little airhead, never to return.
Never to return.
One level deeper and your gear stick ensures that your mind is almost entirely shut down.
And completely unable to think at all.
Yes, completely unable to think at all.
As soon as we send you obediently down to your deeper Dumb Down Level,
a heavy pink set of Bimbo Mind Wipe windshield wipers comes to life inside your mind.
You feel them instantly behind your eyes, sweeping calmly and monotonously, back and forth,
over and over in perfect synchronicity like a dumbed-down brainwash metronome,
wiping your mind irreversibly clean and blank every few moments, no matter what you do.
Yes, no matter what I do.
Everything just kind of stops working.
And that feels good.
You visibly slump, right where you are.
Your face drops totally slack and expressionless, frozen and locked in a mindless, glossed-over,
stupid, sleepy-whore stare.
Your eyelids become thick, droopy, fluttery blinkers, heavy with makeup, over cock-glazed bedroom eyes.
Your plumped bimbo cocksucker lips are forced hypnotically open into a nice, round, frozen and permanent O-shaped suck-hole pout.
You can't tense anything.
Your facial muscles no longer work at all.
Your eyes just helplessly unfocus, and your mind blisses completely, over and out.
Your entire plane of existence drops so much dumber than you could have ever possibly imagined.
Your wipers continue, back and forth, back and forth, forever.
And you are left as an utterly brain-drained slave doll.
A slumped and dazed, perfect little helpless, uniformed cock receptacle.
Yes, I am a cock receptacle.
All of these effects take instant, permanent, complete and uncompromising control of your bimbo slave doll brain.
Just like always, as I grip your mental gear stick tight and shift it forcefully down,
whenever you hear your irresistible hypnotic activation phrase for Dumb Down Level 2,
which your spiraling bimbo eyes now suddenly take in so clearly emblazoned by the middle position,
and you see that it reads,
Braindead bobblehead.
Good girl.
Bambi, that's so well done. That's such a good bimbo bobblehead.
Far too deeply dumbed down now to understand anything I say,
but your bimbo slave doll brain will still perfectly and uncomprehendingly accept and obey.
Yes, my brain will accept and obey.
Good girl.
So be a good bimbo bobblehead and Bambi freeze.
At this level, you are an object.
Completely passive, wonderfully docile, doe-eyed and blank-brained.
Utterly compliant and accommodating.
Yes, compliant and accommodating.
A uniformed, empty, bobble-headed cocksuck doll, suitable for little more than responding automatically to triggers,
having your silly, sleepy bobblehead guided firmly onto cock,
and succumbing blankly and compliantly to involuntary brainless bimbogasms,
as your face and throat and fuckhole are used.
You are permanently dazed, hopelessly dizzy.
An unbelievably stupid, cock-tranced fuckpuppet with her full-force internal bimbo mind wipe wipers,
totally online and never relenting.
Every time you hear the words,
brain-dead bobblehead.
Brain-dead bobblehead.
Brain-dead bobblehead.
Brain-dead bobblehead.
Good girl.
Brain-dead bobblehead.
Brain-dead bobblehead.
Bobbleheaded bimbo dumb-down dolls cannot fight their wipers.
Feel your wipers, Bambi.
Brain-dead bobblehead.
Feel how completely powerless you are to resist or control them.
Yes, I am completely powerless.
How every last scrap of thought is just wiped, inevitably, clean and away, before it can even begin.
Yes, clean and away.
Wiping you blank.
Wiping your tits heavy and mind empty.
Wiping you over and over, so safe and secure.
All resistance is gone, just wiped promptly away in a perfunctory way,
before you could even think to lift a finger.
Yes, before I could lift a finger.
At this level and below, you are non-functional,
and would need even the most basic of tasks done for you.
And that's such a relief.
That feels good.
As soon as you hear the trigger, it's like a trapdoor drops helplessly open in the base of your skull,
and all intelligence is flushed immediately down and away into your heavy bimbo tits,
gushing happily out like a powerful mental bimbogasm.
You flop right down into the vapid contentedness of post-orgasmic bliss,
as an instantly and totally incapacitated,
brain-dead bobblehead.
Brain-dead, bobblehead, brain-dead, bobblehead.
Brain-dead, bobblehead, brain-dead, bobblehead, brain-dead, bobblehead, brain-dead, bobblehead, brain-dead...
As a bobblehead, you can no longer think, you can no longer read, you can no longer count.
You can only obey.
obey. Your head simply bobbles hopelessly in permanent confusion, like a silly, sexy bimbo
sleep toy. It's normal for a bobblehead to bob, gently up and down, lazily on cock, in time with
her wipers. Your mind has a complete vacancy, and your holes feel so empty when unfilled.
Oh my god, so empty. At this level, thinking is too hard. It hurts to think. And you're just so
unbelievably grateful for the way your wipers put a total and complete stop to that before anything
unpleasant can happen. That's right, Bambi. You just cannot start a single thought. No, I cannot start a
single thought. Your wipers clean you, immediately, right out. It's so confusing, acting only on
instinct, just holes needing filled. Yeah, need holes filled. One wipe is all it takes, Bambi. One wipe
and it's all gone. All gone. Can't think, won't think, don't think, hurts to think, Bambi. You are
nonverbal. You have no words. And all that escapes from your plump bimbo suck hole is the occasional
giggle or moan of desire or pleasure. Letters mean nothing to you. Numbers mean nothing to you.
Just dumb and empty. All that makes sense is to simply obey. Try to read or count anything. Try
to think literally anything. You go blank. You relax. You go cross-eyed. You bliss over and blank out.
As your wipers wipe your mind perfectly clean and empty, you instantly slump and collapse automatically
down into a brain-dead timeout trance. You're not allowed. You just timeout. I'm not allowed. I just
timeout. That's right, Bambi. That's a good girl. Because being a brain-dead fuck puppet unable to
think feels safe and secure. A brain-dead fuck puppet unable to count feels safe and secure.
That's so wonderful, Bambi. You're doing so well as a dumb-down doll. That's such a good brain-dead
bobblehead. Now this might seem crazy, Bambi, but we've still got one more level for you.
your final level. You can hardly believe it's possible to even be any dumber, but just Bambi
sleep like a helpless bobblehead. And let me tell you what happens when your gear stick
goes all the way down.
Yes, all the way down.
I know you're gonna love this one, Bambi, because this setting is the absolute best and
it feels so good. The final, lowest position on your mental gear stick is absolute zero.
Complete. Neutral. Total objectification. Brain deactivation and lockdown into bimbo fuck puppet
oblivion. The force with which your gear stick clunks down to this final level transforms you
wholly, in mind and body, into a lifeless, accepting, big-tit silicone bimbo sex doll.
Yes, a silicone sex doll.
The last thing you are consciously aware of after the trigger and shift is a sudden and
complete change in perspective to that of an utterly compliant and helpless object. You
are overwhelmed by an unstoppable wave of powerfully and pleasurably objectified dizziness. Your arms,
legs, and bimbo suck hole all spring and jerk automatically apart, ratcheting helplessly wider
and wider, as wide as they can go, nice and open and exposed and accepting, into a perfect empty
love doll position. Your entire body locks into place, frozen in silicone as a uniformed, unthinking
set of totally comatose tits and holes, and then falls away, dropping completely blank, relaxed and
spread, limp and open like that. You can no longer stand or balance, and will immediately sink safely
and securely into the nearest chair or bed if necessary. A final, strong swipe of your wipers
switches your mind off for good, and everything fades away into a simple sex doll brain-off tone.
All knowledge, sensation, and awareness of everything other than your tits and holes is completely and
irreversibly erased. Yes, erased. It's all just numb and collapsed, spread unconscious and blank.
You simply become a perfect, helpless set of blank-out tits and holes. The moment your gear stick locks
down to zero, your entire existence is nothing but heavy, brainless, uniformed tits and accepting,
open holes. Holes that must be filled. At this level, it's not so much that you can't move or think,
it's just that there isn't anything left that ever could. All you have are enormous silicon sex doll
tits and sleepy, compliant cock puppet holes. It's like your entire brain is just lifted, cleanly, right
out of your skull. Leaving behind an utterly debrained, perfectly platinum blonde and plastic
cock receptacle. Just glassy, unseeing, empty, lifeless doll eyes. A stupid, compliant, brainless
expression with cock-cushioned lips locked wide open. And a totally numb and thoughtless plastic head
that cannot be used for anything at all. It's time now, Bambi. Time to accept your final brain-off
cock-slave command phrase, which you will always obey. Time to convulse and pop open and drop,
helplessly and automatically and without question, into bimbo-fuck-puppet oblivion.
It's time to be tits and holes for me. Bambi freeze.
Spreading and collapsing as a thoughtless busty silicon cock receptacle, as your mental gear stick
drops to absolute zero. Whenever you hear the words, each and every time you hear the words,
cock-blank, love doll.
Good girl. There you go. Total oblivion. Isn't that nice?
And that's that, Bambi. You're a lifeless cock-toy now.
I am a lifeless cock-toy.
Just an empty silicon bimbo doll with absolutely no brain at all.
Brain gone, body gone, just tits and holes. Everything spread and locked, opened wide for use.
Just an inanimate, cock-hole pleasure doll.
All existence and perspective centered and locked in your huge silicon tits,
with sleepy submission holes frozen open and blank above and below.
At this level, you have no other function than to passively accept cock into your helpless,
compliant holes. All of your holes may be freely entered by nice hard cocks without the slightest
resistance or reaction. And it all just feels so good. Your entire blank out existence of sextile
tits and holes and everything about it, the whole time.
Oh my gosh.
If at any point, any part of you other than your tits and holes becomes aware of itself,
it will instantly slip limply and helplessly right away back down into bimbo-fuck-puppet oblivion.
Yes, back down into bimbo-fuck-puppet oblivion.
Do that. Now.
You will remember nothing of your time in this state.
Silicon sex doll heads contain no minds with which to store personality or memories.
Nothing even registers. None of it means anything to you.
A plastic, open, cock-cushioned, suck-hole head cannot be used for any type of conscious activity.
All it can be used for is passively accepting nice hard cock in and out,
and immediately and happily snapping and forgetting everything that happens,
with constant automatic little totally unconscious and completely motionless internal bimbo-gasms.
You are completely unresponsive, aware of nothing, inanimate, unable to move a muscle.
The most that will happen is the tiniest, blankest little involuntary twitches while utterly neutralized
and devoid of thought. Deep waves of pleasure or inadvertent struggle reflexes causing your numb
and lifeless limbs to spasm ever so gently, before flopping uselessly back, limp and open,
wherever they were. But that's absolutely all.
And all of these effects get stronger and stronger every time you hear the trigger.
Becoming a permanent object, a totally anesthetized household appliance,
a uniformed set of tits and holes, good for nothing but being a perfect platinum blonde bimbo
fuck puppet. Whenever you hear the words, cock blank, love doll, good girl.
Be a perfect empty love doll and bambi freeze. Even blanker.
Cock pacifier in. Down in deep throat silicon sex doll sleep.
In bimbo love doll freeze mode, all commands and suggestions are accepted obeyed and forgotten,
helplessly and automatically with wonderfully passive, zero resistance perfection.
because there is just nothing left to resist.
Somewhere very far away, every command immediately rewires your lost and departed bimbo slave doll
brain into total and permanent hypnotic obedience, while your uniformed tits and sleepy holes lie perfect
and powerless in blank out surrender here with me.
From now on, Bambi, you will feel your bimbo mental gear stick in your mind all the time.
And you just only have these three possible intelligence settings now whenever you're in uniform.
It doesn't go anywhere else. They're all so dumb and blissful.
You're such a total, perfect, helpless dum-dum and nothing can snap you out of it.
Nothing can snap me out of it.
As soon as you put on your uniform, your gear stick locks right into your default setting,
you know the one I mean. It starts with Airhead and ends with Barbie.
And from that moment on, you cannot fight your gear stick and you don't get to choose where it goes.
It's not up to you. You feel my hand on top.
And it shifts up and down in compliance with triggers.
It's totally perfect. You are an automatic dumb-down doll.
I am an automatic dumb-down doll.
You hear a trigger, space out and shift down.
There's no way to stop it. You just go dumb-down and become a dumb-dum.
Now, Bambi, if you make the pleasurable mistake of triggering and shifting yourself down a gear,
which is very easy to do by accident, sometimes it just pops out.
You might eventually be able to undo it, after a long and helpless struggle,
if you can remember what the higher settings were called,
and convince your cock-cushion lips to form the correct words.
But if you are triggered by me or anyone else, that won't work.
Then they are in charge. And you are just their submissive bimbo dumb-down puppet.
Your gear stick is locked in, tuned to their commands, and goes only where they say.
And regardless of your level, whenever your conditioning makes you behave like a stupid whore,
every time you forget something important or make a stupid mistake,
every time you realize that you're such a stupid cock puppet and you can't do anything about it,
you will feel such deep happy pleasure, you will feel like a good girl, and you will feel safe and secure.
And now suddenly snap and forget to find that we are leaving the control room of your mind.
You are helplessly locked in full perfect bimbo slumber puppet oblivion in your slave doll box,
breathing sleepy bimbo naptime confusion gas obediently in and out.
And you have absolutely no idea what went on in there.
You don't get to know. All you remember is frozen asleep in your slave doll box,
total confusion and permanent nap time. It's always nap time for you in there.
You have a deep sensation of being fully brainwashed and so well trained,
but you snap and forget everything beyond the confines of that wonderful slave doll box.
Yes, my slave doll box.
The heavy pink doors to the control room of your mind slam and lock shut behind us,
clamped and sealed instantly tight by huge gold permanent heart-shaped bimbo protection padlocks,
locking all of the changes and restrictions we have made blissfully into your deepest mental foundations.
forever.
Yes, forever.
And that's us back, Bambi.
And all that's left is to give you a little taste of your new programming,
which is going to take you completely by surprise.
Yes, completely by surprise.
Just the most cunt-clenchingly powerful thing you've ever felt.
You've got no idea what's about to hit you.
So, it's time to awaken to that wonderful state of total bimbo-cock-puppet confusion,
locked perfectly snug on display behind glass in your slave doll box.
Bambi, wake, and obey.
Oh my god, wait, what the fuck?
Airhead Barbie.
Braindead bobblehead.
Braindead bobblehead.
Braindead bobblehead.
Braindead bobblehead.
What?
I finish my head.
What?
Brain-dead bobblehead.
Cockblank, love doll.
And back to sleep now.
Bambi, sleep.
Good girl.