Bimbo Trance-formation

Every bimbo undergoes some kind of transformation. It may be as simple as a make-over. New hair color. Different clothes. Show some more skin. Wear more make-up. Contouring is always a good way to go. A new bimbo may step it up at the gym. Or undergo surgery.

Not all changes are external. I always say, bimbodom is a mindset. It’s all about how you think and how often. Which is why hypnosis can help you become a better bimbo.

No really. It can.

What You Think

I know what you’re thinking. You’ve seen Get Out. Or other movies or TV shows. I wish hypnosis was as easy as Catherine Keener stirring her tea. It’s a trope to say this, but forget what you think you know. Hypnosis isn’t like what you see in the movies. It’s much more subtle than all that.

Here’s an example of a common hypnotic suggestion. Try not to think about my massive fake tits. Are you thinking about them? How big and round they are? How they bounce when I giggle? If you just can’t get my chest pillows out of your mind, you may have accepted my hypnotic suggestion. Or maybe you just have a boob fixation. Who can say for sure?

Your mind has safe-guards. You can’t be made to do something you don’t want to do. A dear friend of mine once told me that all-hypnosis is self-hypnosis. A hypnotist can guide you, but they can’t force you to experience something you don’t want to. Your mind will reject those suggestions.

But see, you were willing to think about my flesh globes. That’s why my suggestion worked. You’re imagining what it would be like to fondle them, aren’t you? So big and round and juicy.

Maze of the Mind

I started in hypnosis nearly five years ago. I remember how it started. But I don’t exactly remember how it took hold of me. It started at Bimboview Estates as so many things did for me. There were different themed rooms and perhaps the smallest was dedicated to bimbo training.

The room included a chamber you could step into. Once you did, you would see images of very happy bimbos. The fact that they were happy mattered to me. They were happy and pretty and sexy. I wanted to be all of those things. I was locked in my apartment during Covid and I was bored. This made me happy and excited.

In addition to pictures, the device showed messages. Some of them lingered on the screen long enough to be read consciously. Others happened so quickly you couldn’t be certain you saw them at all. Pink really is perfect. I kind of am a silly girl. Why am I thinking about sucking cock? Huh?

I used the device at least once a day. Then more. Gradually, I started going out to explore other hypnotic sims. Cranial Lust. The Pink Institute. The Live Trance Lab. And Maze of the Mind.

The Maze was like that hypnotic chamber on crack. It consisted of a series of boxes. Each box flashed images on all it’s sides. You were enveloped. Some of the images were cheesecake. Others were pornographic. The owner was a mad man and he was always changing things up. So you never knew what you’d encounter next.

I spent a lot of time lost in that maze. Sometimes an image or a message would connect. And I’d just stop. Letting it enter my mind. Absorbing it. Why think my own thoughts when the Maze could fill my mind for me. It was easy to just to myself go.

Just like it’s so easy to imagine about squeezing my funbags.

Is This Just Fantasy?

These were my first steps down a long road. I’ll come back to this topic again. To wrap this up, I want to address the elephant in the room. Is this real? Or is it just an elaborate role play? The answer to both is “yes”.

There’s an element of role play to Second Life hypnosis. Much like Second Life sex, it bridges real life and fantasy. It’s easy to reject. For Second Life hypnosis to work, you have to give yourself over to it. Both the hypnotist and the subject work together to create the spell. Otherwise, you’re just fucking around.

I know this much. I underwent years of bimbo brainwashing. It changed who I am. It changed how I think. The changes followed me back into the real world. What I don’t know – what I will never know – is how I was changed.

Was this a process of self-discovery? Maybe there was a bimbo deep down inside me all along and hypnosis helped me feel comfortable letting her out. Or maybe she was implanted. Just like these big fucking titties.

Don’t know. Don’t really care. I’m a happy bimbo.