Becoming Bimbo

Chapter 3

We took a cab from the airport to one of Tokyo’s best hotels. It was fairly early in the evening and John had made plans to meet up with two of his fellow business acquaintances for dinner that night. Having been cooped up at home for the last month I was more than excited.

“Make yourself up right,” I was told, as I began applying make-up in the bathroom. “I want you to wear your red PVC outfit tonight – the one with that shows your belly – and I want your make-up to match.”

I stuck my head out of the brightly lit bathroom for a moment to inquire what he meant by ‘right’.

“Red and white, is what I mean,” he said. “White face and whatever color your outfit is should match the color of your eye shadow and lipstick. I want plenty of blush, too. Like a Raggedy Anne. Black eye liner is always good, too.”

Mortified, I watched him in silence as he tied his tie. “Okay, Daddy,” I said, pushing back tears.

I ducked back into the bathroom and took a seat on the toilet, crying at how ridiculous I was going to appear. I was jarred from my self-pitying by a knock on the door and then John poking his head in and hanging my outfit on the door hook.

“Here it is, baby,” he said, smiling at me. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I lied. “I just poked myself with my eye liner.”

“Okay. See you in a few,” he said.

Drying my eyes, I got back to fixing my make-up. Thirty minutes later I stepped out of the bathroom wearing the red PVC outfit and looking like a black haired anime doll and wishing I could die.

“How’s this, Daddy?” I asked.

“Nice. Try putting some streaks in your hair,” he said, handing me a spray can of temporary red hair dye.

I smiled and took the can - hating myself and what I was doing - and headed back to the bathroom. It was then, as I looked into the mirror at my reflection, that the absurdity of the moment struck me. So many times I had made myself up in preparation for a night out. Each time I had done so was to please him; to make myself seem more attractive. For all that effort, this was what he really wanted. If this is what he wanted, I decided, this was what he was going to get. So I applied the hair dye in subtle, yet obvious streaks. Then, with a shake of my head and a stupid little practice giggle, I turned and headed out to where he waited.

He was waiting for me on the bed and watching TV. There was a smile my direction as he stood up and slipped into his dark blue blazer.

“Come on, we’re late for dinner,” he said, holding out his hand.

“Yes, Daddy,” I said, slipping into my bright red heels.

Down the elevator we went. A couple of Japanese business men rode the elevator, too. They were staring at me and talking to each other in Japanese. All four of us stepped off the elevator and into the lobby, the two Japanese men laughing and looking back at me as they hurried ahead of us.

Through the lobby we went, tourists and natives gawking at me. A glimpse in a mirror we passed reminded me why they all gawked at me. I looked ridiculous. Not really trashy but more like something out of an anime cartoon.

“This is what he wants. He wants a bimbo,” I told myself. “Don’t think. Empty your mind of thoughts and just be the bimbo he wants.”

My heart was beating fast as we stepped out of the hotel and onto the sidewalk. For several blocks we walked through the city, me with my quick mincing steps and him striding along normally. I felt so out of place; as if I were dreaming. Then, through the roar of engines and the honking of horns I heard myself as I walked. It was almost like hearing the gate of a horse as it runs.

“He wants you this way, ” I told myself again. “He dressed you like a bimbo. You have nothing to be embarrassed about. Just be the bimbo.”

At long last we found our destination. We walked into the small but elegant restaurant and were immediately signaled to the back by one of his business acquaintances. I could feel the eyes of patrons watching me as we walked around tables and chairs.

As we neared the table I could see his friends and their wives. The two men, Tommy and Ben sat opposite each other wearing dark blue suits and light grey ties. They were handsome and well-groomed but it was their wives, Fujiko and Tomiko, who took my attention. Both sat with arched backs, thrusting their overly large breasts outward. They both had bleached blond hair cut in a bob with bangs that ended just above their eyebrows. Like me, they both wore PVC outfits, Tomiko in yellow and Fujiko in sky blue. Their eyes seemed more rounded than they should have been and their lips seemed overly full, as well.

Ben and Tommy stood as we neared the table and offered John a hand shake. I was introduced to them and they to me. Then Tommy suggested a re-arrangement of chairs so that the girls could ‘sit together and talk about their silly things’. So I sat across from John, flanked by the two faux blond Japanese girls.

It was Tomiko who first began talking to me, disgusting me with her exaggerated Japanese accent.

“How do you rike Japan?” she asked.

“This is all I’ve seen, so far,” I told her, barely able to contain myself.

“Oh, I see you new to this,” Fujiko said to me.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“You speaka rike nomal Amelican,” she responded. “You no speaka rike Japanese bimbo yet.”

I was appalled and could barely contain myself.

“In time you wirr sound just rike us, Tomiko said and then giggled stupidly.

I dug my nails into my palm, angry at the ridiculously stereotypical sounds emanating from the two women.

“Don’t worry,” Ben spoke up. “You’ll get used to it. Besides, I think it’s cute.”

I smiled and thought to respond in terse fashion but John interjected before I could say anything. “Where did you get Tomiko’s boobs done?” he asked.

“A place just down the street. Would you like their card?” Tommy asked.

“Yes,” John said. “Do they do hair removal, too?”

“Of course,” Tommy said. “In fact, they did her entire body – her make-up, too.”

Tomiko blushed and then giggled. Fujiko giggled, as well.

Later, at the hotel and after undressing, I sat in the bathroom removing my make-up and reviewing the night. Neither girl had appeared unhappy but they didn’t appear very bright either. Was that what he wanted? Did he intend on making me like those two women? More importantly, if he did want it, was it something I could live with?

I stuck my head out of the bathroom to see him on the bed. He was naked and watching TV. For a few moments I watched the light of the TV play off the walls in the dim light as I considered the questions I had for him. It dawned on me as I watched him that he hadn’t said a word to me or anyone about anything other than permanent hair removal. That was something I could live with – even look forward to. Hell, permanent make-up – so long as it wasn’t outlandish – wouldn’t even be bad. I turned then, to look at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. My breasts were a solid ‘D’ cup and looked even larger on my tiny body. Surely they were big enough. They certainly looked as big as the enhanced girls we dined with that night. With confidence then, I stepped out of the bathroom.

I padded to the bed, relieved to be out of my high heels, to a warm greeting. “You did very well, tonight,” he told me. “You looked beautiful, too.”

“Thank you , Daddy,” I said, smiling.

As I climbed into bed he pulled me to him and kissed me. It was deep and warm, as it had not been since I was caught cheating, and I felt suddenly light headed and happy. He wrapped his arms around me and held me tight in his arms, whispering words of love into my ear. There was another kiss and then another. I was rolled to my back and the kissed again and again. The kisses flowed down neck and to my breasts and then down my body and between my legs. I moaned as he kissed my most private of areas and then arched my back as his tongue entered my sex. Kisses and tonguing turned to licking and tonguing of my most sensitive regions and I thought I might die from the pleasure.

“Does my little bimbo want to cum?” he whispered.

“Yes, Daddy,” I said.

Fingers entered me, wiggling their way inside and I began bucking. He spread me open, pushing in deeper as he licked me. Then it happened. There was no warning or buildup. There was simply an explosion of pleasure. There were my cries of pleasure and there was my orgasm. Then there was silence.

How long I lay silent I have no way of knowing. I was not coherent, nor was I incoherent. I was in a middle ground between the two. There was no care when he lifted my legs and pushed his cock into my ass and there was no pain. Neither was there any humiliation, resistance or disgust when he pulled from my ass and came in my mouth. I sucked him, I swallowed his cum and then I slept.