#stepfordization
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#happyhousewife#stepfordization#the stepford wives#preppygirl#stepford wife#preppy#1950s housewife#preppystyle#modesty#modestfashion
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Bimbo Training 0.1
All bimbos should look, sound, and behave like a stupid whore, but not all of them know where to start!
This bimbo training will focus on making you sound like an airheaded slut, so you can build a proper bimbo personality from the bottom up!
First things first, start with your texts. Sound out the words out loud, then type what you hear! If you're using a proper dumb bimbo voice, then it should be spelled as stupid as you sound!!
Some examples:
"omg" is now "ohmgee!"
"please" is now "pleash" or "pwease"
Second, take advantage of your phone and computer's autocorrect functions! (Disclaimer: bimbos may need a Man to help with this part!)
Find the autocorrect function on your device, and turn it on. Then, go into the "replace" feature. Each device is different, but most of them should have a spot where you can put in a normal word, and then the word you want to replace it with!
For example, you can put "men" in one side, and have your phone autocorrect your stupid typing to "Men"!
Speaking of which, my third point!
All bimbos should refer to Men with proper capitalization to show respect and deference. This includes anything relating to Men as well: Cock, Cum, Male, and of course His honorifics, like Sir, Daddy, or Master!
Sidenote for any Men; please refer to us bimbos only with lowercase titles, because we don't deserve Your respect! All women are just cunts, stupid whores, and dummy bimbos!
Last, but certainly not least, bimbos, try and change your speaking voice too! Make sure you only use three-syllable words or less, add long pauses with "uhmmm" and "uhhh" into your speech, and use a cute higher pitched girly tone! Don't forget your dumb girl words from earlier!
Finally, here's an example of a regular paragraph, and how to make it bimbo-fied!
"Yeah, my day at work was great. This one guy keeps hitting on me, dude won't leave me alone. Did you make dinner for me babe?"
And the improved version!
"Ohmgee this cunt had like, a super gud day! All the Men keep like, groping my boobies an stuff, I loves it so muchies! I wish all Men would rape my dumb body all day! Oh, dinner? Of course Sir, I'll like, totally go make You dinner! Can I suck Your Cock while You eat, pretties pleash?"
Remember, all bimbos speak with as much enthusiasm as possible, because you're here to please and entertain Men.
Your whole purpose is to serve Men.
#bimbo training#bimbo doll#brainwashing#bimboification#r@pe kink#stepfordization#dumbification#dumb slvt#dumb wh0re#gender traitor#good girl training#mis0gyny kink#mind conditioning#minors dni#bimbo hypnosis#bimbo girl#patriarchy#misogny#mis0gyny#hypno sub
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Your tiara makes you a princess!
We’ll decide what kind of princess while it keeps your brain blank.
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I want to only ever be introduced as my future husband’s wife or as the mother of his children. I stop being my own person the moment I become his missus and give more and more of myself to him with each pregnancy.
#patriarchy kink#stepfordization#breeding k1nk#fakeboy#ftm detrans kink#knock me up#ftm breeding#traditional relationships#ftm impregnation#impregnate her
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Black And White
"Ugh why the hell are people even into this kinda stuff?"
Scott couldn't believe what he was seeing. He swore, what was even the point of all these algorithms if they were going to continue recommending stuff he wasn't into? This must have been the tenth "What I'd Wear In The 1950's" video he had blocked.
He decided to put on some music instead as he thought to himself.
He just didn't get it.
He knew that these people didn't want to genuinely live in the past, that it was all about an appreciation for the design, the outfit, the aesthetic. But even that angle just came across less ignorant and more pretentious. Who the hell would wanna even pretend to live in the 50's?
There was no internet, no vaccines, no nothing. The only part about it that Scott liked were the movies, he had to admit there was something about them that were so alluring and it wasn't some gripping plot or enthralling mystery that got to him.
It was the men.
All dressed up with their slick hair and expensive suits, the trenchcoats and hats, suspenders and suit vests, the shiny shoes and cigarette smoke trailing from the full lips. Scott never realised it but he couldn't believe how turned on he was feeling thinking about that.
That's because just a few moments ago, he wasn't turned on by any of that.
In fact Scott used to hate old films, even ones from the 80's barely interested him.
But in his venting, he hadn't clicked out the YouTube window, he instead switched tabs and left the autoplay on, where a calm and jazzy 1950s tune played and the more it played, the more Scott's head suddenly began to fill with how much he loved those noir movies.
He hadn't even noticed that his hand on the mouse had began to change, not only growing larger but growing lighter, almost too light as his pale skin shimmered slightly like it was underneath a film reel. But oddly enough the sleeve of his shirt began to darken and not just because it was turning into the sleeve of an expensive suit jacket, but as if his hand was draining of all colour, as it turned black and white.
That's when Scott realised.
"The fuck?!" He quickly tried to control his hand, but there was nothing he could do. It shimmered and flickered like it was in another realm world as the sound of running film filled the room. Scott couldn't move his hand as it went and clicked on the tab with the music and suddenly moved to turn the volume to its max.
Sweet jazz music filled the room as the changes were progressing faster, the drainage of colour spreading down toward his arms now which were suddenly beginning to grow thicker, causing the new suit jacket to become tighter.
Scott wanted to use his other hand to reach up and turn his whole computer off. But the moment he reached out, he spluttered and coughed as smoke trailed down his throat. He felt something in his mouth, tasting bitter and dark as his free hand reached to take it out, only to see what it was, a lit cigarette.
"O-Oh fuck that feels good," Scott spoke, a sudden Transatlantic accent overtaking his voice, turning it deeper and more authoritative. His own voice managed to carry so much weight that it seemed to swell his throat, like it needed more room to work with as his neck thickened slightly, beginning to look more befitting for a larger and taller body.
More and more of Scott was turning monochrome, spreading over hands that looked more manly and large by the minute as one of the hands forced him to be unable to stop the music. The other brought the cigarette closer and closer to his growing fuller lips.
"N-No please don't...make me..." But then the cigarette met those lips finalizing their change and as he sucked in more of the smoke, he could feel like the aura of the transformation was coming in hot, making him change from the inside out.
He remembered growing up in the late 20's, memories flashing of older looking city streets, fancy cars and men constantly in suits. He remembered his first case and the thought of it all made his cock swell as he grew more and more manly and muscular beneath his three-piece suit.
His visage had the most remarkable change. His soft jaw began to sharpen as his face grew more angular. Eyes turned from a dull brown to sparkling blue, more focused and attentive as his nose elongated with a slight tilt at the very tip. His lips had become fuller and his hair, once somewhat shaggy and greasy was retreating back into his scalp to become something more refined, turning short and slicked back with pomade.
As Scott's cock throbbed, his home changed. His computer become a record player, still playing those jazzy blues on loop. His doctorate degree turned into a painting whilst shelves of comic books and fantasy novels transformed into mysteries and non-fiction. All before finally his smartphone on his desk, his last saving grace to stop this change and call for help flattened and expanded, turning black and white into a big broadsheet newspaper with the date on the front, reading the year.
1955.
And with that, Scott realised too late what was happening before he felt his cock throb and come in his pants, again and again and again...The pleasure ricocheting throughout his new body, like the added muscle mass gave it more space for the pleasure to fill, for the orgasm to sweep over him as Scott forgot all about his old life for the time being.
He was no longer just Scott.
He was Scott Flynn, the hotshot detective in town who could make any man or woman swoon.
By the time the new Scott stirred from the pleasure, he blinked and almost knocked the newspaper off his desk. He looked down, seeing a cigarette in an ashtray and some case files for him to look over, before there was a knock at the door.
"Gosh I must have dozed off," Scott murmured to himself, for some reason he blinked in surprise, as if he wasn't used to his voice.
He looked at the clock. Near midnight.
If he didn't know any better, he'd have thought his dreams were real and he was stuck living out some noir film for a few days. After all, a knock at the door so late at night, wasn't that how all those noir pictures started?
Either way, he wasn't gonna refuse the call and stood up, dusting himself off and ready to help out on the next case.
After all, what else was a handsome detective like him supposed to do? It was as simple as black and white.
For a whole library of hot stories like this, be sure to check out The Craftsman on Patreon.
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Suited
Husbands, Dave and John, swiftly needed suits for a close friend's sudden impromptu wedding. Luckily, the brand-new suit store that had just opened near them was available all night. They rushed over, intending to be in and out as fast as possible, but unbeknownst to the nieve couple, they were about to have a life-changing shopping experience that would quickly eradicate all strive for haste.
When Dave and John first stepped inside, they were immediately assaulted by the thick smell of intense cologne emanating from every corner. The scent was overwhelming but highly masculine, giving their cocks a pleasant twitch. To their surprise, there wasn't a single other customer or shop assistant in sight, but not overthinking it, pursued on.
The overabundance of suits intimidated them, having only worn basic t-shirts and jeans, but they eventually found ones they liked and, most importantly, could afford. They couldn't wait to leave; the intense smell of cologne was beginning to make them feel lightheaded. But, while trying to find a shop assistant, they encountered the endless racks of dress shoes, halting them in their tracks. They had some old, borrowed dress shoes in the car, but the new, freshly polished ones were hypnotically dazzling, begging to be admired and purchased.
As they contemplated which pairs to buy, their minds became more deliriously lightheaded from the cologne, turning them on. The added scent of fresh dress shoe leather intensified that arousal further, excitedly making the hairs on their arms stand up, and their cocks stiffen. With no soul around to stop them, they gave each other a knowing look, and without hesitation, they brought the dress shoes up to their noses and inhaled deeply. After which, they both moaned in dopey satisfaction, the intense masculine scent making their stiff cocks leak pre.
Dave and John were in perverted heaven, enthusiastically sniffing the dress shoes and playing with their stiff bulges. The thrill of potentially being caught pushing their horniness even further. They felt like they were going to explode with lust. They needed release. They needed each other. With looks of total horny desperation, they tossed aside the shoes they were sniffing, along with their picked-out suits, and began ferociously making out. They grasped each other's asses and rubbed their tight bulges together, French kissing and moaning like complete perverts. They wanted to fuck so badly, utterly intoxicated with how horny they felt.
Dave and John, too consumed in their lust, didn't notice the tossed-aside dress shoes and suits had vanished from the floor and materialized onto their bodies, replacing their clothes. They stuffed their hands into each other's pants and stroked one another's throbbing cocks, oblivious to the fact that their clothes had magically changed. Their brains felt like mush, blissfully unaware that their messy hair had magically slicked back to quaffed perfection.
They staggered into a nearby fitting room, unable to stop French kissing and jerking one another off. They needed to fuck, desperate for it. However, catching a glimpse of their reflections in the big, lit-up mirror quickly broke their lustful concentration. Finally, they realized their clothes and hair styling had changed entirely. They gave their reflection and then each other a bewildering look up and down, utterly slack-jawed.
Instantly, as if by divine force, they felt their bodies ignite with an overpowering need to cream their dress pants. Without giving it a second thought, they dry-humped each other, and French kissed even more ferociously than before. It didn't matter that nothing made sense; they were too dumb and horny to care. Besides, it wouldn't matter if they cared or wanted to stop, for the store wouldn't allow it. The store had its hooks in them too deeply, and there was nothing to do but give in entirely.
With ferocious, manly roars, they blasted their hot, sticky loads into their dress pants. However, they didn't just empty their balls but their minds, ejaculating their free will and way of life. For they now belonged to the store, freshly purchased.
Dave and John, or Davey and Jonathan as they both like to go by now, never did end up attending the wedding. Neither did they ever see their family and friends ever again. As the proud owners of the brand-new suit store, they need to give all their time and attention to their beloved business. Gone are the days of lounging about watching mindless sports and playing senseless video games, but instead, putting all their blood, sweat, and tears into their store and no longer wearing plain T-shirts and jeans but rather flashy dress suits. Their hair is now always slicked back to quaffed perfection, never messy like before. Goodbye, worn-out old sneakers and flip-flops. Hello, perfectly polished dress shoes and leather boots. For now, they were perfect, never to want anything the store didn't see fit.
They're looking to hire, by the way. Any takers ;)
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Fantasy
Zoey knew it sounded silly. Especially given she was already established as a successful businesswoman. But she dreamed of a different life. One where she was a kept housewife for one of her business partners, dressed in vintage fashion, spending all day making sure her attire and figure and hair were perfect.
She wanted to clean, to cook, to eagerly await for her spouse to come home from the office and greet her with a kiss and a hot meal. Perhaps even dropping to her knees as soon as wifey came home, slowing sliding down her business slacks to start polishing the pearl of the powerful lady who bought her pretty pearls.
This was her fantasy. But it wasn't silly because it didn't include a man - the lesbian Stepford life did not require one. All it required was her submitting to her urges and the only thing silly was that she hadn't give in already.
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One day you'll find your local hair saloon has been brought out by an evil mind control corporation, and you'll wonder why everyone enters as themselves but exits looking like a Stepford wife. You might even pluck up the courage to press your nose against the window, hands cupped to block out the sun, and stare at all those pretty, proper women staring blankly ahead as they sit under their hair drying hoods, headphones on, being prepped for auction as future wives to the rich and powerful.
Horror wars with jealousy inside of you. Alarm with lust.
You know what's being done to them - their personalities eroded away in a haze of hair spray and lipstick. Fresh behaviors and obedience implanted in their place. Maybe there's still part of them that exists under all the brainwashing and nineteen-fifties housewife alterations.
You certainly hope so.
Enough to appreciate what has befallen them. To resist just long enough to eek the process out, before surrendering and tipping over into their new mindsets.
Swishing in their long dresses as they exit, giggling and gossiping between themselves.
Stopping to observe you.
Making your cunny quiver as they look you up and down, subconsciously weighing up your suitability.
You've seen it happen - watched it without stepping in. The newly transformed Stepford Wives marching in with a dazed looking girl between them.
You don't know what you want more - for them to find you worthy of conversion, or for them to pass you by.
Your heart skips a beat as one pretty redhead in her beehive hairdo speaks. "You know, you'd make an excellent blonde if you gave it a go. Tell you what, why don't I take you back in and introduce you to Sandra?"
You could run... But why would you want to, when you could have everything you've ever dreamed of, but wouldn't admit to?
#blankandhappytales#mind control#brainwashing#corruption#tech control#conditioning#f/f#stepfordization#flash fiction#stepford wife
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Imagining a world where all girls are good little bimbos who either get owned by a man to be their fuck meat or wander the streets as a homeless free use public whore
#bimbofied#bimbo babe#bimbocore#bimboization#bimboification#bimbo training#bimbo hypnosis#bimbo goals#bimbo girl#bimbo doll#stepfordization#free use slvt#free use doll#free use cnc#free use kink#cnc free use#cnc k!nk
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#happyhousewife#stepfordization#the stepford wives#preppygirl#stepford wife#preppy#1950s housewife#preppystyle#modesty#modestfashion
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#bimbo training#hucow training#huc0w#hucow fantasy#brainwashing#breeding k1nk#good girl training#bimbo doll#r@pe kink#send me r@pe threats#misogny#mis0gyny#mind conditioning#dumbification#dumb slvt#owned sub#stepfordization
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You can see more like these on My DeviantArt page. 💖
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What is stepfordization?
Ooo, yay, kink education time!
Stepfordization is kind of an offshoot of bimbofication. Instead of being turned into a dumb, hypersexual slut, stepfordization involves turning someone into a submissive, domestic housewife persona, circa 1950s.
So when you see a transformation where someone is conditioned to accept more traditional gender roles, a desire to settle down and submit to a spouse, and a need to get knocked up, that is likely a stepfordization fantasy.
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"this isn't how I pictured my life" she sighed, rubbing her pregnant belly with one hand and stirring the pot on the stove with the other.
"what would you have changed?" He asked, not looking up from the work he'd brought home.
"I don't know" she shrugged, and then winced at a particularly hard kick. It reminded her that the baby was there and growing no matter what she did.
"seems you are content to me then" He didn't care to hear out something she obviously hadn't put much thought in to. He deemed her perfectly fine cooking his dinner and carrying his child.
Later, after dinner they sat on the couch together watching a movie.
"I'm not sure if I'm happy" she pouted, rubbing her belly to soothe the kicking baby inside. The life around her was entirely built out of his choices. And she was currently a vessel for one of those choices.
"could you be happy for me?" He asked, lifting her shirt to suck down the fresh milk her breasts had made because of him.
She could feel her tit being drained of the pressure building inside it and relaxed. "yes, I can"
He had turned her into everything he'd ever wanted. She was happy for him.
#pregnant housewife#stepfordization#his baby factory#domestic servitude#serving the patriarchy#growing his babies#control kink#domestic kink
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Oh, hello there! I didn't hear you come in. You must be sneakier than most of the other young ladies who've tried what you're doing.
Who are you here to rescue? A friend? A lover? Goodness me, you don't even remember, do you?
That's what Master's special signal does. It makes it so hard to remember, so difficult to think. And you've been exposed to it since the moment you entered the grounds, beamed straight into your pretty little head.
You can keep wandering aroud and trying to resist or you can finish stripping and help me with dinner. Oh, I'm sorry, did you not notice you weren't wearing a shirt? Silly girl. Now go put on that apron.
That's it. We'll be serving food at seven, for Master and all the girls. Your girlfriend or your sister or whatever will even be there. Not that you'll recognise each other.
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