Airhead Academy: Bimbo 101 (6/10)

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Jake barely had a chance to blink before the girls were already dragging him out of bed. The corset he’d been forced to sleep in still clung to his torso, its relentless pressure making it hard to breathe or even sit up straight.

“Ughhh, can’t I like... just sleep a little longer or whatever?” he groaned, his voice automatically falling into the same sugary lilt they’d drilled into him.

“Nice try,” Chloe said simply, already holding up a hanger with a sleek black blazer and a matching miniskirt. “You’re not getting out of this. Now arms up, Jessica.”

Jake obeyed, grumbling under his breath as the girls slipped the blazer over his shoulders and smoothed it into place. It was fitted, hugging his arms and drawing even more attention to how tightly the corset gripped his waist. The miniskirt was worse. It was so short he didn’t dare bend even a little without flashing everything, and the clingy material molded to his ass like it had been painted on.

And then came the pumps—black patent, at least five inches, the kind that made his calves pop and tilted his hips just enough to make his ass stick out with every reluctant step.

“Ohmygodddd these are, like, so dumb,” he whined as he took a teetering step forward. “I thought this was, like, makeup day? Why do I have to wear heels for that?”

Chloe smirked. “A girl like you should be excited to wear heels, Jessica,” she said, clearly enjoying every second. “Now come on—let’s get to those makeup lessons you’re so eager for.”

The girls sat him at the vanity and laid everything out in perfect order. Jake stared at the lineup of brushes, palettes, tubes, and bottles like it was an alien language. But Chloe just folded her arms and waited, and after a long moment, he gave a whiny little sigh and reached for the toner.

Skin prep went fast. He dabbed in the toner like they’d shown him, patted moisturizer into his skin, and buffed in a primer that smelled vaguely like vanilla. The foundation came next—full coverage, thick, and just a shade warmer than his natural tone. He hated how easily it erased him. The contouring was trickier, and Chloe had to correct his angles once or twice, but by the time he blended it all out, his face already looked narrower, his features softer.

Then came the eyes.

“Ughhh, why is this, like, so complicated?!” he whined, biting his glossy lip as he held up a blending brush. “It’s, like… a lot of steps.”

“Figure it out, Jessica,” came Chloe’s voice from behind. “You’ll be doing this every day soon enough.”

The warm neutral shade went into his crease first, and he blinked at how soft it felt, how easily it blended. It was almost hypnotic—swirl, tap, blend. A shimmer followed, pressed onto his lids with his fingertip, then a deeper brown in the corners to lift the shape of his eyes. He hated how natural it was starting to feel.

Next came the eyeliner. He stared at the liquid pen, breathing shallow as he lined it up with his lash line. The first stroke came out shaky, the second worse. “This is, like, impossible,” he whined under his breath, scrubbing it off with a sigh. He kept trying—again and again—each flick too thick, too crooked, too dramatic. His hand wouldn’t stop shaking. But finally, after way too many redos, the wings came out even. Sharp. Bold. Flirty. Perfect.

The mascara wand came next. He pulled it through his lashes from root to tip, watching them darken and thicken in the mirror. The second coat curled them into long, delicate spikes. The third made them dramatic—framing his eyes like black silk fans. His mouth fell open slightly.

“Ughhh… I look, like, so slutty,” he whined, his lashes fluttering as he leaned in closer to inspect the work.

He let out a soft groan and grabbed the lip liner next, dragging it just outside his lips to shape them fuller. Then came the gloss—a thick, high-shine formula in a soft, glazed beige. It clung to his mouth like honey, catching the light every time he moved.

Jake sat back slowly, his fingers trembling slightly as he stared into the mirror. His stomach gave a sick little twist. The girl looking back wasn’t awkward or exaggerated—she was hot. Shiny lips, sultry eyes, lashes for days… and every bit of it had come from him.

“Oh my god, Jessica,” one of the girls breathed, “your makeup is flawless.” Another leaned in with a grin. “Seriously, you look, like, ridiculously pretty right now.” Chloe just smiled. “The way you move, the way you talk… and now the way you look. You’re really starting to become a bimbo, aren’t you?”

Jake’s eyes widened. “That’s, like, soooo not even true, okay? I don’t even—ugh!” he snapped, stomping his foot with a sharp click of his heel. “You’re the ones who’re, like, totally making me this way!” He crossed his arms under his big fake tits, glossy lips pouting hard as he tried to glare at them—only making the girls laugh harder.