Bimbo Unlocked (2/?)

Ethan stood frozen, still trying to catch his breath. His eyes were locked on Matt—on the snug lounge set clinging perfectly to those soft hips, the gentle taper of his waist, and those absurdly glossy lips curled in a shy little smile. This can’t be real. This is Matt. Matt… looking like a flirty Instagram baddie, so effortlessly feminine it made Ethan’s stomach twist.

Before Ethan could process anything, Matt’s body started moving again, hips swaying in a slow, feminine rhythm as he sauntered over. His hands lifted—dainty and delicate—up to Ethan’s shoulders, curling sweetly behind his neck.

Matt’s lips parted, slick and glistening. Shit. Shit. Shit. He could feel himself leaning in, eyes fluttering shut, lips puckering like some helpless little tease—his mind scrambling even as his body moved with flirty, feminine confidence.

As Matt’s lips drew nearer, Ethan’s chest tightened, panic creeping in. “C-Cupcake!” he stammered, voice cracking.

Matt blinked rapidly, awareness slamming back into his expression just before their lips met. His cheeks burned as he stumbled back. “Wh-what the hell was that, man?” he muttered, voice wobbling with embarrassment as he stormed past Ethan.

Over the next few days, Ethan gave Matt some space. He’d been mildly surprised that Matt had actually followed through with something that extreme—and even more surprised that he could actually look and act like a convincing girlfriend. He’d figured there’d be a limit to what kind of commands would work. Now he was just curious to try a few small tests, see where those limits actually were. He figured he’d give Matt a few more days to cool off before picking things back up.

That was the plan, anyway—until Samantha showed up.

Samantha, Matt’s older sister, was sprawled on the couch across from them, casually scrolling through her phone as Ethan tried to explain his experiment, outlining each test and what it was designed to do.

Matt cut in before he could finish, voice laced with dry sarcasm. “Oh, and I’m sure making me act like your girlfriend was very important to the experiment.”

“No way, he seriously had you act like his girlfriend?” Samantha asked, eyebrows climbing.

“Well…” Matt’s cheeks burned, the memory hitting a little too vividly. “Yeah. Kind of.”

Samantha leaned forward, eyes narrowing with curiosity. “So he says one word and you just do whatever he tells you to? What’s the word?”

“Oh, it’s just Cupcake,” Ethan muttered, the words slipping out before he realized what he’d done.

Matt’s body went still—eyes glazed, lips parted, caught in the trance. Oh no… not again… His mind screamed, but the fog smothered his control before he could even twitch.

Samantha waved a hand in front of his face, watching for any reaction—but he didn’t so much as blink. Then she grabbed a throw pillow from the couch and dropped it at his feet. “Pick that up,” she said. Matt crouched down and picked it up without hesitation.

“Oh my god,” she whispered. “It actually works.” A mischievous little smirk began to spread across her face.

She sat up straighter, eyes gleaming. “Mmmkay—pretend you’re my adorable little sister... we’ll call you... Misty.” She reached into her bag and pulled out a spare outfit, handing it to him. “We’re going shopping today, remember? Go get ready, princess.”

Little sister? What—no, no, no! The protest rang in his head, but his lips curved into a bright grin as Misty beamed—shoulders drawing back, hips cocking in a girlish pose, and a sparkle in her eyes that didn’t belong to Matt at all. “Yayyy! Omigod yes!” she squealed, voice bubbling over with enthusiasm.

Ethan groaned. “Matt is not going to be happy about this.”

Samantha was grinning ear to ear. “Relax. He’ll get over it. Besides... I’ve always wanted a little sister to hang out with.”

About thirty minutes later, the sharp click of heels echoed down the hall—then Misty reappeared.

She was wearing a fitted pink tank top that stopped just short of her waist, riding up enough to tease a playful glimpse of bare stomach. A pair of dark denim cutoffs hugged her hips perfectly, the frayed hem showing off every inch of her smooth, freshly shaven legs. On her feet, pink cork-heeled sandals with slim ankle straps and small bows completed the look.

“Ohmigod,” Samantha whispered, staring at her. “Misty… you look, like, ridiculously hot.”

“I knooow, right? And these heels are so cute,” Misty giggled, lifting one leg behind her in a perfect twirl while Matt died a little inside.

Ethan shifted in his seat, trying to hide the obvious erection straining against his jeans. Jesus. Matt—err, Misty—somehow looked even sexier than she had just a few days ago. It wasn’t just the outfit or the heels—it was the way she moved, the way she carried herself, the flirty lilt in her voice. Every little detail was hitting Ethan harder than he wanted to admit.

Samantha grabbed her purse with a grin. “Alright, Misty. Let’s go.”

Misty tossed her hair and minced after Samantha, Matt’s mind churning at the thought of being seen like this, heels clicking confidently in her wake.