You, the Bimbo Princess
Written by Arian Mabe (Amethyst Mare)
Commissioned by anonymous
You don’t know what to think as you step into the hall, expecting to meet someone to talk about an award acceptance speech, pushing your glasses back up your nose where, yet again, they have slipped down. It seems empty in there, almost clinical with a few chairs pushed back against the far wall and a window looking out over the centre’s gardens, but that’s not for you to worry about. The case of trophies and other awards glitters temptingly and you approach it more keenly. It’s the best thing to capture your attention, in this moment, at least, and your reflection blurs back at you, showing your brown hair neatly trimmed and swept to the side, the grey hoodie rising above blue jeans. It is not the most formal outfit by far but, for what you’re there to do, it’ll do the job as you need.
So many have gone before you but you are too caught up looking over the photos and trophies, hungry for your own, to realise that there’s another reflection joining yours in the glass cabinet. She is taller than you, stronger than you, more beautiful than you – but she already knows that. It is only when her hand closes on your shoulder, sharply turning you to face her with enough force to spin a top, that you gasp and try to take a step back, glasses sliding down your suddenly sweaty face all over again.
“Hello, sweetie,” she giggles, the apparition before you all pink and sweet and lightness. “Wanna come play with me?”
That could have been dark in any other time but she is not human and you fumble with your words, tongue thick and heavy in your mouth. You want to say something, anything, but you are the very epitome of tongue-tied as the anthro pony leans down to your level, clad in a white coat with feathered wings spread gloriously out to either side of her, a horn rising from the centre of her forehead. It is the flowing pastel rainbow of her mane and tail, undulating as if in an unseen, sparkling wind, that is the main draw, your scientific interest drawing you to wonder just how that is possible.
It seems that there are other parts of her that she wants you to pay attention to, however, as she squeals and flicks her tail, lips plumped out with blue lipstick as she pouts prettily. Yet all it takes is her standing tall to her usual height again to shove her massive breasts into your face, the shimmering fall of a pink dress concealing some of them but nowhere near enough cleavage to be decent for such an establishment.
“Oh, I-I-I’m sorry, you s-s-seem...”
Yet you can’t get the words out and she giggles prettily, licking her lips, your eyes oddly following the sensual path of it across her upper one.
“You’re such a treat, a yummy treat,” she all but squeals, wiggling her breasts in your face with a wide-eyed look of false innocence, ignoring your stumbles and fervent blush. “You want to spend some time with me, yes? You want to spend some time with your princess, don’t you? Have you ever touched someone like me before?”
You step back and try to say that there’s been some kind of mistake, that she’s mixed you up with someone else, but the pony princess already has your hand in her hers and is drawing it to her chest while you fight and squirm and try to get away. She’s stronger than she looks, however, and you don’t stand a chance, forced to touch her as her softly furred flesh rises to your fingers, breasts impossibly soft as she forces you to squeeze and grope them. Does she even know how to take no for an answer?
As nervous as you are, however, something in you knows that you can’t get away and you all but shut down as she giggles and arches her back to make her breasts jiggle all the more. Even from that angle, however, you can’t help but notice just how full and round her backside is to, the floating aura of her tail tugging your eyes to it insistently, though there seems to be a slit in the dress too that is revealing rather more of her white leg than your crotch is comfortable containing.
You blush hard, stutter something, manage to get your hand free, but that doesn’t change the fact that your hard-on is showing through your jeans. Away – you have to get away! It’s embarrassing enough as it is but the tall pony giggles and smacks her lips as if she’s puckering up for a kiss, dragging you to her as if you are no effort at all for her to manhandle.
“Oh, sugar, sweetie, honey... Don’t run away from Celestia now! I’ve got such a treat for you, you want me, you want my body, I can tell... So, you can have it!”
You stare up in horrified arousal as her puckered, blue lips descend to yours but they are on your lips before you can react, grunting into the kiss, squirming, fighting. Her wings fold around you, tickling, and you are vaguely aware that her dress has fallen away, leaving her breasts and even the slit of her plump and flushed pussy exposed between her legs, nipples perky and enticing – if you had been in any other situation with her, that is.
Yet the kiss is warm and, somehow, it’s nice too, something in you leaning into it a tiny bit as her hands roam your body, feeling out your shoulders, tugging at you, breasts squashed to your chest. You don’t know what to do, what to think, but that’s alright as you’re not going to have to think at all for very much longer with Celestia to take over your life, something cool spreading out through your body as the kiss deepens and deepens. It takes something from you but gives it back too as that coolness seeps through you, her tongue dominating yours, playfully swirling and curling around and around.
Yet you are lost to the will of Celestia as you begin to feel “funny”, not like yourself, mind racing, though not even you can find a way to get yourself out of this situation. The bimbo princess has you in her hold and she’s not letting you go until she has whatever it is that she wants from you. You whimper and try to twist away but your lips stay with Celestia as your held pulls back, pulling more and more into a snout and a muzzle, nose slinking down to become another type of nose entirely.
Your lips change too, becoming fuller and plumper, just like hers, though you can’t draw away from Celestia as she French kisses you with the passion of a long-time lover. They are so soft and warm – yours and hers – that you can’t resist kissing her back even as your face takes on a more feminine, appealing nuance with a dished curve to the cheek. Your lips as moist, succulently so, too and you can’t help but moan into her mouth, leaning in, losing some sense of yourself even then as things change and twist out of your grasp, memories floating, fading...
What are memories anyway? Oh, you don’t know and you don’t care, the bimbo princess taking them from you. You only remember your face being pony-like and sweet, your lips gorgeous as your face takes on her rosy hue too. It’s beautiful and just how it is meant to be, eyelashes curling as if you are applying mascara to them right then and there. They’re as gorgeous as you are and you moan into her mouth, ears slipping back, tingling, itching into a new place.
Is this how you really are?
You can’t answer that question, but it must have always have been like that, you think through a haze, clawing at a memory and a thought that never seemed like it truly existed. Celestia has more for you, stripping away who you are, though such memories of your old life are oh so boring and simply not fitting of a bimbo princess. And that’s just what you need to become, for her, as she sucks down your past life, taking all that you know as she devours your mind.
What is happening to you? You try to push her away but your hands only land on her breasts and, oh, how soft they are. Would it really matter if you gave them a little bit of a squeeze, groping and teasing them, pulling at her nipples? You try to shake the thought off but she encourages you on with a needy little moan in your mouth, shaking her plump backside, tail waving, giving you every incentive to continue when she clearly enjoys every last bit of it so very much.
Maybe that’s just how a bimbo is. Maybe you have a lot to learn from her. You will never know.
You blink, remembering your hair, trying to bring your hands up – but it’s not there anymore. It falls away as you forget what it looks like, Celestia sucking the memory from you, slurping it up with a heady moan into your mouth. Your hair has always been like a rainbow. How could you have ever have forgotten that?
Yet nothing will ever be the same again as your body changes, shoulder slighter lighter, more feminine, while your hips push out to the sides. You don’t need narrow, masculine hips anymore, not with what she has planned for you, and you moan anxiously into her mouth even as your ears itch, repositioning themselves atop your head. Later you’ll find that they look just like hers.
There are hooves too to come, feet shifting so that you feel as if you’re standing up on your toes, fetlocks forming up to the rise of your hocks. Everything about your lean yet plump legs, your height helping there, is enticing, even to you, and you whimper, trying to twist your head away as Celestia groans into your mouth. Everyone wants your legs, your hooves, to run their hands down them. They should never be covered up...
Your chest, however, is what draws your attention the most and you flail even as energy slips from you, sucked away by Celestia through the passion of the kiss, the bimbo princess groaning wantonly into your mouth, the kiss lewd and wet and sloppy. That doesn’t seem to matter to you anymore, however, as you push into it, trying to find a way out, trying to push your chest back into place as it bulges out against your hoodie, ripping through with a hasty tearing of fabric. Clothes have no place with you as the weight of your breasts makes them pull down gently, nipples growing larger, better-placed on such soft, full breasts, perking up eagerly as if they want to be on display with a pale coat of pony-hair.
Your jeans are not destined to last long either too as your hips explode, your buttocks swelling, weighty and hefty, yet they seem so very natural on your body as they sway and you can’t even remember what they looked like before. They’re round and full and blossom out as if your body was always meant to hold the weight of them, back arching as if you want to put your body on show even then. Your butt was never all that large before but, wait... The memory is not clear as it is instantly replaced by the image of you teasing cheeky colts with it, letting them see the curves and think of how it could be to hold you close.
You moan and wiggle your butt. Is it really yours? Is that right?
No, it has always been like that and that’s all you need to know, all you need to worry about, giggling faintly as she breaks the kiss, licking her lips, savouring you.
“Aren’t you sweet?” She breathes, leaning into you. “Delicious. Think back now... Come on...”
She coaxes you to think back but there’s not much you can think of where she wants you to think. Those memories are dull and grey and boring and you only want to be with her, want to let her lips brush yours again, finding the sweetness of that kiss.
“What?” You shake your head, eyes wide and unseeing, a smile pulling at your lips, although there is a distinct lack of your old intelligence behind your eyes. “Oooh... Oooohhh, this feels, weird...”
“Sweet, yes, sweet...”
Yes... You are something sweet, something to be savoured, and something in you pushes you to close the distance again, loving the feel of your nipples perking to life on your chest, the weight of your bosom as it seems to tug you down, oh so very lightly. It’s all as it should be and all that you need to be, your hands finding hers and gripping them tightly as your skin takes on its true, pale form.
Not just skin though... You try to remember why you were there but even the trophy case looks foreign to you now as you strain and let the thought go with a shrug. No, you’re better than that, you don’t need to worry about that, a light prickle of white hair coating your skin, though the thicker fluff of it will not show itself until the winter months. That’s better, isn’t it? Like stepping back into an old skin, your chest heaving, losing all sense of yourself as you lean into Celestia, kissing the bimbo princess back as passionately as she is kissing you.
Well, you’re one and the same now, aren’t you? That’s how it is meant to be and how it will be forevermore, not knowing who you were, who you wanted to be, for those things just don’t matter. It was never important as the sucking sensation flows through you, yet you only giggle into the pony’s mouth and kiss her desperately, your hands on her tits, fingers slight and feminine. Who wanted male, hairy fingers anyway?
You don’t even know why you were struggling, seeing your stomach flatten where there had been a slight bit of fat before. It’s strange but the memory slips away too, remembering that it was different and then forgetting in the next moment. You don’t know that she’s sucking each memory from you as soon as you think of it but, well, not very much is going to matter to you from this point on. You are no longer you, a memory slipping away as soon as you think of it, Celestia taking everything from you, letting you see the pony legs slinking down from your hips as yours, they’ve always been yours. Why would you think any differently about that?
But you remember other things, swinging your hips and butt, being a bimbo – why does that word have such significance to you now? It’s you and it’s not you but it’s you and you giggle faintly, accepting it as such. Where is the point in fighting when everything is so rosy and bright and her breasts just feel so nice against yours, the jiggling weight of them comforting in how it’s always been there?
No, you don’t want to fight, you just want to be, everything as it should be. You’re with Celestia, so everything is alright, your brain simpler and brighter and clearer than it’s ever been. Science flitters to the forefront of your mind but she plucks it from you and snaps it up with a groan that reverberates through even you, luxuriating in the taste of it as her tongue swirls around and around your mouth. You need her as much as she needs you but that doesn’t stop you from wriggling and shifting your hips, not understanding the strange sensation at your crotch.
Bewildered, you look down, lips parted, gleaming with a hint of saliva, yet the shaft and balls there don’t seem natural. No, they don’t belong there and she takes the memory from you then too as she sucks your maleness back into your body, something that you don’t need, that you never truly needed. What you need is a womanhood and the soft folds render you such, settling into your new, true form as a bimbo, an itch between your shoulder blades bringing a new memory to light.
Celestia is not shy about touching you there either, sliding her hand down your flat stomach between your thighs, murmuring against your lips, the side of your muzzle, brushing your new clit, the lightness of the line of your folds.
“Beautiful... Doesn’t that feel much better?”
You’re not done yet though.
Ah, your wings... You smile dreamily as she whispers to you, giggling to you, slurping up every last one of your memories while she feeds you more. You remember though, your first flight, how good it felt to feel the air tickling each feather. That was wonderful, so very wonderful, and your mane flows forth as if in an unseen wind, having grown in when you were so young. Lovers of yours love to caress and run it through their fingers and you let them too, all for the giggling pleasure that comes with the teasing flux of your power and station.
Longer and longer, your mane flows out, rippling and playing with the breeze, the draft that wings itself around you. It even tangles and twists into Celestia’s as she holds you tightly, not willing to let you get away, and you remember so much of that mane, how it drew you so very much attention in your younger days. They don’t seem quite like your memories but they have to be, for they are in your mind and surely your brain does not lie to you.
Your tail flows forth, pulling with a stiffening tease to the root of your spine, twisting back and forth, flicking, though the natural pulse and sway of it is more than enough to have you rolling your hips back, enjoying how it makes you want to sway so very beautifully. Everything about you is beautiful. You’ve been told this your whole life so why would it not be true?
A horn completes the ensemble for you, leaving you with a new reminder and memory not to knock it on low doorways, everything about your body feeling fuller and needier and heavier than ever before. It’s always been there and the very last memory of your face slips away from you as Celestia devours it, snapping it up and gulping it down as if it is the finest morsel in the world, something sweet that she can swallow with relish, desire pumping up and coursing through in the beat of her heart in time with yours.
“Oh...”
Celestia presses her fingers to her lips to savour you, murmuring her appreciation with her eyes half-lidded in pony delight. In that moment, your last memory slips away, leaving you as nothing more than a copy of Celestia, the bimbo princess, nothing remaining of who you once were. Not that you can remember anything of that, of course, remembering only her memories, her life – your life now, for all you will ever know for the rest of it.
“Mm... What a delicious meal! Oooh!”
She moans at how simply wonderful you were and you blush, though it is not a nervous blush. You love that blush, how rosy it makes your cheek as every fibre of your being wants to prance and dance and show off, even though your clothes hang in tatters around you. What is up with that? They shouldn’t be there. You rip them off and leave your body nude and proud, the alicorn princess before you standing at the same height, your eyes meeting in the gleeful lust of true bimbos.
“Where to next?” You say clearly, a light lilt in your voice that sends a shiver down your spine. “We must eat!”
Celestia’s eyes glitter, though she does not drag you from the room, as happy and as bubbly as you are, before her horn glows. Instantly dressing you in a pop of magic, long dresses fall down your bodies, revealing side-boob and shoulders, elegant and yet suitable for the bimbos that you both are. Jewels drape your necks and you are ready, earrings dangling, the prime and the pride of it all, though your very first victim awaits just outside.
You sense his presence and resisting him just isn’t something in the realm of possibility, pushing on, bumping into Celestia’s hip as you meander on, the epitome of “princessly” delight. Everything is perfect, your breasts heaving out, tails waving, though you have not yet drawn your eye.
Celestia giggles, fingers fluttering up to her lips as if to behave demurely. She can change the focus of his attention, you’re sure of it.
She’ll never lead you wrong ever again, a pair of bimbo pony princesses searching for their next delicious soul feast. Your stomach grumbles, your next victim down the hall, a backpack slung over one shoulder. He doesn’t know what’s coming as you fix on your prettiest smiles, preparing to pounce.
There’s more yet to come...
Author's Note
You find an anthro Princess Celestia but she has great plans for you as, through her kiss, you transform...
As always, I am open for commissions starting at 30 GBP per 1,000 words - please e-mail arianmabe[at]gmail.com for more information or see my profile!
Story © Amethyst Mare / Arian Mabe
Character © respective owners