Airhead Academy Bimbo 101 (9/13)

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That evening, Chloe called with her rules—strict, humiliating, and completely non-negotiable. Jake listened in stunned silence as she laid them out, her voice sweet and casual like she was talking about the weather. No cutting his hair—she wanted it long and blonde. No unlocking the cage. And underneath whatever boy clothes he wore to class, Chloe expected a bra and panties. But the worst rule by far was the newest one: the butt plug. She wanted it nestled between his cheeks for every single class.

Jake gasped, horrified. “There’s, like, no way I’m putting this thing in my ass!”

Chloe laughed, her voice curling into a wicked little whisper. “I wonder what your frat brothers would do if they found out they had a pretty little bimbo practically living under their noses. How long before they’ve got you tottering around the house in heels and a thong, putting on a show for their amusement? How long before they’re passing you around the couch, letting off steam in their favorite new toy?”

He hesitated, lips parting like he might fight back—but the words never came.

“Good girl,” Chloe cooed. “Now be sure to send me a pic before every class. I want to see my plug snug where it belongs.”

The next morning, getting ready felt like a ritual in shame. He lubed the thick plug with shaking hands, biting his lip as he slowly, carefully began to work it in. It stretched him wide, his breath catching as he pushed past the resistance. Then—pop—it slipped into place, pressing right against his prostate. “Eep—!” The sound escaped before he could stop it, his whole body giving a soft, involuntary shiver.

Red-faced, he stepped into the soft, powder-blue panties Chloe had picked out, trimmed in delicate white lace, and clipped on the matching bra. Then, cheeks burning, he tugged the panties aside and snapped a quick picture with his phone—the plug clearly nestled in place. His hands trembled as he hit send. Only after that did he pull on his hoodie and some loose sweatpants before heading out for his first class.

Jake shuffled through campus, head down, hands stuffed deep in his pockets. The thick plug nestled between his cheeks was impossible to ignore, its weight and girth turning every step into a slow, humiliating squirm. The oversized clothes did little to hide the way he moved, and the hoodie couldn’t completely cover the soft blonde hair brushing his shoulders.

Worse, that chirpy, girlish voice Chloe had drilled into him kept slipping out at the worst moments—soft little giggles, drawn-out vowels, that bouncy tone he hated. Conversations would trail off awkwardly, classmates giving him strange looks. He learned quickly to keep quiet, answering only when he had to, too afraid of slipping up again.

After a week, though… he was beginning to get used to it. The shame never really faded, but the plug wasn’t as unbearable as it had been. Some days, he even managed to forget it for a while. It slipped into the background, just another part of his day—until a message from Chloe lit up his screen midway through class.

Chloe: How’s class?

Boring, he texted back.

A few moments later, the plug roared to life.

A high-pitched moan slipped out before he could stop it. Heads turned. He slapped a hand over his mouth and rushed from the room, legs trembling as the plug pulsed deep inside him, each step a struggle just to stay upright. He barely made it to the bathroom, fumbling for his phone with shaking hands.

Chloe: Still bored, bimbo? 😉

He called her, practically shrieking. “Omigod, what the hell are you doing?! I’m, like, in the middle of class!”

Chloe giggled sweetly. “Hmm? Whatever could you mean?”

A second later—“Oh, this little thing?”—and the vibration surged. His knees buckled as he collapsed against the stall wall, a needy moan slipping out.

“This is just to make sure you don’t forget it’s in there,” she said, her voice all sugar. “Wouldn’t want you getting too comfortable, now would we?”

Over the next few days, class became absolute torment. Chloe would turn the plug on at random—during tests, presentations, even in the middle of crowded study halls. The sudden bursts of vibration were impossible to prepare for, and no matter how hard he clenched his thighs or bit his lip, moans and whimpers still slipped out. His cock strained uselessly in its cage with every pulse, and the looks he got only made it worse. His face would flush red as he squirmed in his seat, barely able to sit still, let alone concentrate.

Focusing on anything felt impossible when all he could think about was the plug grinding against that sensitive spot deep inside him… and when the next humiliating jolt might hit. At some point, he’d have to do something—he couldn’t keep going like this.