Bimbo Unlocked (1/?)

Sorry for the delay everyone! I've been feeling a little under the weather so haven't had much time for captioning recently. Here is the first part of the series that won the community vote recently!

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When Ethan asked Matt to “help” with his psychology thesis, Matt assumed it’d be something boring—maybe taking a survey or faking interest in a class experiment. What he didn’t expect was Ethan eagerly setting up noise-canceling headphones, dimming the lights, and smugly explaining how he was “testing behavioral triggers via hypnotic suggestion.”

Matt rolled his eyes. Hypnosis? Really?

Still, he decided to humor Ethan, going along with his little experiment. He sat patiently on the couch while Ethan finished setting everything up on his laptop. “We’ll need a trigger word,” Ethan murmured. “Something simple, hmm...” He glanced around before spotting the fresh cupcakes Matt’s sister had dropped off earlier. “Cupcake. Yeah, that’ll work.”

Ethan slipped some headphones over his ears. A sultry female voice purred directly into his mind: “Cupcake... cupcake. Cupcake—cupcake.” The words repeated slowly, rhythmically, as a strange hum pulsed beneath them. His brain felt... floaty. The repetition, the softness—it was oddly relaxing. Before long his eyelids drooped, and everything faded.

When the headphones came off, Matt blinked and sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes. He paused, trying to see if he felt any different, but not really. He smirked, shaking his head a little—of course it didn’t work.

Ethan leaned forward. “Okay, now let’s test to see if the trigger was implanted properly... Cupcake.”

Matt’s smirk vanished as his eyes glazed over.

Ethan picked up his notebook, flipping to a fresh page. “Okay, umm... go make me some tea?”

Yeah right, like I’m actually going to— “Sure.” The word slipped out, calm and pleasant, as his body stood up on its own.

What the hell?! His thoughts raced, but he couldn’t stop. His legs carried him to the kitchen, hands moving on their own to boil water, steep the tea, and prepare a mug. He followed every step perfectly—completely aware, yet utterly powerless—as he returned and calmly handed Ethan a warm cup.

“Cupcake,” Ethan said casually, setting the cup down and picking up his notebook.

Matt’s eyes cleared, and a shiver ran up his spine as control returned. “Dude... that was weird,” he muttered, rubbing his arms. He could feel everything—every step, every movement—but he hadn’t controlled any of it.

Over the next few days, Ethan ran a few more tests. Each time Matt heard the trigger, he obeyed without hesitation, watching helplessly from inside as his body moved like it wasn’t his. Nothing extreme—just simple little tasks... until today.

They were lounging on the couch, controllers in hand, casually gaming when Ethan brought up his bad luck with dating. Matt chuckled and, without thinking, said, “Honestly? I’d be shocked if a girl ever went out with you, dude.”

Ethan’s eyes narrowed, a sharp edge in his voice as he whispered, “Cupcake.”

Matt froze, the controller slipping from his fingers as his eyes glazed over.

“I... I want you to act like my girlfriend,” Ethan said, half-testing, half-teasing.

His lips parted on their own, his voice light and feminine: “Sure thing, babe.” No! Stop! What the hell is happening?! he screamed inside.

“I... umm guess you should get presentable.” Ethan murmured, still a little stunned that Matt was actually obeying.

Matt wanted to shout, to fight, to do something—but his body stood up like a doll on strings. He walked into the bathroom, trembling inside, and picked up the razor. His hand moved on its own, gliding it over his skin with slow, careful strokes—removing everything, leaving him soft and bare.

When he stepped out of the shower, toweling off his now completely smooth skin, his eyes locked on a small pile of clothes neatly folded on the counter. His heart sank. Samantha must’ve left them behind after her last workout. His body turned toward them, moving without hesitation, while inside Matt screamed in horror, already knowing what was about to happen.

A dusty pink sports bra and matching leggings—tight, stretchy, unmistakably feminine. His hands reached out, fingers trembling, and lifted the soft fabric. He slipped the leggings on first, sliding them slowly up his smooth legs, then over his hips before reaching a hand down, gently tucking his tiny penis away like it was the most natural thing in the world, erasing any hint of masculinity. Without pause, he slipped into the sports bra, the snug band fitting tightly around his chest as his hands moved up, pushing his flabby chest together to form two convincing, cute little breasts.

His eyes darted to the vanity where Samantha kept some of her makeup, and he felt himself die a little inside as his feet carried him toward it. His hand opened the drawer, fingers selecting each product with eerie precision. Without hesitation, he got to work, applying foundation, blush, and mascara with perfect, delicate strokes. His mind reeled—how does my body know how to do this?—but he couldn’t stop. Finally, his hand lifted a tube of lip gloss, coating his lips in a soft, wet shine. As soon as he finished, his face tilted slightly toward the mirror and his lips pushed into a subtle, girlish pout—like he was checking how pretty he looked.

Finally, he returned to Ethan, posing in the doorway with a helpless smile plastered on his face, his heart pounding in horror as his lips cooed, “How do I look, babe?”