The Toybox: Bimbo Stories

“Are you done yet?” Sara asked.

Her husband stopped moving. His cock got soft inside of her. He dropped to his haunches and said nothing.

“Oh, honey, I didn’t mean it to —”

Nathan pulled out of her. “For fuck’s sake. I mean, even if you’re not that into it, could you at least not sound like you’re tired of waiting for your nails to get done.” He moved off the bed and into the bathroom, leaving his wife curled on her side.

She regretted the words as soon as she said them. In fact, she didn’t understand what compelled her to say them at all. “Nathan, I’m sorry. I just want to make you happy. Sometimes I’m not in to it.”

Nathan returned from the bathroom with a towel in his hand. He tossed it to her and grabbed his boxers from the floor. “I get it. But it’s frustrating. I want to have sex because I want to be close to you. We have sex, and you’re lying there like it’s another household chore. I try to get you more into it. You tell me it’s not going to happen. So, I think to myself, fuck it. If she’s not going to bother, then I may as well get myself off, but I can’t because now the only thing I can think about is how miserable you are with me slamming into you over and over again.”

Sara didn’t know how to respond. She hated it about herself and felt alarmed at how frequent this conversation had become. They’d not even been married a full two years yet, and she was already bored of sex. There’s more to it than that though, she thought. Her husband had been different before they married. They’d spent years together roaming around and living rough. They spent their nights in bars drinking with friends and the following mornings in greasy spoon breakfast shops speaking in hoarse voices. They fucked constantly through that time, unable to ever get enough of one another. Every time felt like a mad rush to be together. An hour apart could sometimes lead to fumbling inside of a broom closet, trying to get the right angle. They crashed on couches in their friend’s apartments and during the night they would discreetly crawl on top of each other and hump like rabbits.

Then it all stopped. They loved one another more than anything. The natural next step, so they were told, was in getting married, buying a house, and settling down. The wedding was beautiful, the bride and groom were ecstatic, and all of their friends, even the ones who still slept on couches and smothered the stink of last nights bar with the next night’s, congratulated them. They took their savings and put a down payment on a small home. Nathan cleaned himself up and got a job working in a marketing firm. Sara found a place in a dental office answering phones. For a while, they tried to keep going with their old lifestyle, but once they started falling asleep on their commutes, they had to stop. As the first year went by, Sara marveled at how determined Nathan seemed about it all. She could see his misery lurking just underneath the otherwise placid surface, but day in and day out he put on his tie and muddled through. She tried talking to him about how she felt, like she would start tearing her own skin from boredom half the time, but, though Nathan agreed, his general attitude was a shrug and saying “gotta pay the bills.”

The one place his frustration showed was in the bedroom. While Sara’s sex drive plummeted, Nathan’s remained constant, but without the fervent passion of their younger years. Sara decided it was his one effort to reignite the spark of their relationship, but they were out of sync. “I can use my mouth if you want,” she offered as he climbed back into the bed.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s not anybody’s fault. Just, you know, how it is sometimes.” From the tone of his voice, he believed it was definitely someone’s fault, but it was uncertain whose. He rolled over and roughly punched his pillow into a comfortable position, secretly loathing the overly soft wedding gift.

Sara pulled on a shirt and her panties, not too disappointed her husband had not taken her up on the blowjob. She turned over to her side and scooted back against him, enjoying the feeling of his back against her own. Maybe this is just how things are now. Some nights we have dull sex that frustrates us more than its fun. Maybe that’s how divorces start. How many times can I blue ball him before he starts looking somewhere else? Could I even blame him for that? What’s wrong with me. Her thoughts drifted closer to sleep as she contemplated her own flaws.

Beside her, Nathan’s own musings were not too dissimilar. Is it so wrong to expect even some fake enthusiasm? he thought. I work all week and come home to be with my wife. Sex, physical contact is how I express myself. She knows that, we’ve talked about that. And yet she lies there like a dead fish and then asks if it’s over yet? How the fuck am I supposed to interpret that?

Both briefly felt the urge to roll over and let their feelings spill out in a rush that would keep them talking until late in the night, after which they would make love once again but with all the passion and fire of the previous years. Yet before either could bring up the courage to roll over and expose their insecurities, the day’s fatigue exacted one final price and lulled them to sleep.

Nathan stood in the middle of the hardware store reading the back of two different light bulb boxes. Sara sent him out to find a bulb to replace a spotlight on their back patio. He left the house happily. Though the frustration from the previous night lingered through the morning, it was suppressed by the general feeling of groggy resentfulness that came with every morning. Nathan enjoyed the hardware store, at least. He put one of the bulbs back and went over to look at the spare lumber pile. Before the marriage, Nathan took odd jobs working in construction. He’d never had any great talent in it, but enjoyed the feeling of working with his hands. Being back in a hardware store brought with it the feelings of those days working in the sun, and he intended to enjoy it while he could.

As he crossed the store, he noticed a strange man. Most of the people who visited hardware stores came dressed in work clothes. Usually they would be sweaty or covered in paint or at least have a look of extreme exasperation about them. The man standing halfway down the aisle from Nathan had none of these features. The man browsed the nail section as if he were looking at something far more interesting. Spindly fingers darted out from his coat to pluck one of the plastic cases from the racks. Nathan did not mean to stare, but the stranger fascinated him. He looked anachronistic. Nathan thought that some theater company had sent one of the actors to buy nails for the set. At least, that was a rational explanation, Nathan thought, though the man’s presence seemed as far from rational as it could be.

Nathan shook off the mesmerizing spell of the stranger and went over to the spare bits of lumber. Long ago, he’d made the habit of browsing such piles. Most of what he would find had no decent use for people who bought lumber in bulk, but the small bits could have nice patterns and grains that, with a little work, could make nice end tables and such. The meager craftsmanship had been another hallmark of his reckless years. Once, he sold a table for three hundred dollars. He and Sara took the money to the beach and rented a small boat for the evening. The little dinghy had been as likely to sink as a rock with a balloon tied to it, but it managed the waves well enough. They were meant to bring it back in a few hours, but they stayed out over night. They fell asleep in each others arms as the waves rocked them.

The memory faded as the hairs on the back of Nathan’s neck stood on end. He turned around, dropping a plank which clattered against all the others and drew a few rude looks from nearby shoppers. But the man standing a few feet from him did not flinch. Nathan had not realized how tall and peculiar the man looked in his sleek black suit and musty coat. “Hello, my name is Thaddeus.” He brought his hand up much quicker than his apparent age should have allowed. “I would like some advice about these.” His bony, white fingers unfurled to reveal a rattling box of nails.

“Uh, well, I don’t work here. Maybe I could find someone?” The man exuded an aura of discomfort. Nathan wanted nothing more than to be as far from him and his black eyes as possible.

“You can likely answer my question. I am constructing a pine box. It is a little bigger than a bread box. The wood is about two inches thick. Would these nail it together without splitting the wood?” Thaddeus raised the box of nails closer to Nathan’s face.

Nathan caught a whiff of what he could only place as wet decay. “I think those would work fine. Pine is soft, so don’t hammer it too hard or you’ll leave dents around the nail.”

Thaddeus’s hand coiled back into his body, dropping the nails into his coat pocket. His mouth opened in a wide grin. Too wide. Nathan was reminded of the jagged rows of teeth found in a shark’s mouth. “Thank you for your assistance. If only things were always so simple as finding the right nail. Man’s greatest virtues are in his hard work, are they not? A true man has known his share of sweat. A true man builds, constructs, creates. I meet so many people who think their purpose is in answering an email from Helen in accounting before lunch. Preposterous. And then they scuttle home with their tail between their legs to eat a cold dinner with a frigid wife who long ago forgot what it meant to please her man. That’s wrong, isn’t it? Men and women should exude vitality when they are together. They should drive each other to animalistic happiness. Otherwise, they melt into puddles of weak disinterest. Do you agree?”

A part of Nathan wanted to run away screaming. It was the part of him that knew better than to wander in the woods at night or to peer too long into dark, deep waters. Another part forced the words out of his mouth, “Yes.”

Thaddeus smiled broadly again and offered his hand for Nathan to shake. “It was a pleasure to meet you. May your wishes come true.”

Nathan took the offered shake. The stranger’s fingers closed around his hands like a vice and a feeling of spiders scurrying up his arm made him shiver, but he managed to shake any way. “Nathan, good luck with your project.”

“And you with yours,” Thaddeus quipped. He turned on a dime and headed away. Nathan blinked and the man had vanished. Nathan looked around to see if anyone else had noticed their bizarre conversation, but no one gave him the slightest bit of attention. He lingered for a while longer in the lumber section, hoping not to encounter the man again. Finally, he bought his light bulb and left.

The box had not been there a moment ago. The top of the dresser had been clear as she prepared to polish the wood. Yet now, a small box sat rudely defying explanation. Sara’s first reaction was not fright, but doubt. Having never experienced the spontaneous appearance of a physical object before, her mind rushed to fill in a gap in information that it had missed. Perhaps she had move it from a different room and simply forgotten. She put the box down so she could move some laundry. The box had been delivered, and she’d decided to put it in the bedroom. This series of events would have allowed such a box to have appeared, but they did not happen. The box simply appeared, no more, no less. A small note was taped to the top, and Sara plucked it free.

In a barely legible, archaic script, “Nathan, once again thank you for your assistance today. Once I finished my box, I could think of no one else more deserving of it. Enjoy.”

Sara put the note aside and looked at the box for a long while debating whether or not to open it. Nathan never liked it when she opened his mail. A mystery box enticed her much more than any bill or notice could. The box itself glistened with a fine varnish. She thought of several ways to use it once its original purpose had been served. She could use it to keep jewelry or important papers or any other small knick knacks. Whoever made it had done an excellent job creating a work of beauty. As she looked over it, she saw small print on the corner of the lid. “For Nathan and Sara.”

Immediately, she opened the box and peered inside. Reaching in, she picked up a leather collar. I’ve never seen anything so gorgeous in my life. The leather felt smooth against her skin and everywhere she touched it became sensitive and electric. She moved over to the mirror and pulled back her hair. The collar slipped around her neck. She guided the strap into the buckle and pulled it to the notch, finding it fit her neck perfectly, being loose enough for breath and tight enough to thrill her. She finished buckling it and felt it grow hot. Her alarm faded immediately as warm thoughts flowed through her mind. I am my master’s toy. His bimbo. I exist to fuck him. To be his play thing.

Sara pulled off her clothes and tossed them aside. Master’s slut should be naked. She stood in front of the mirror and admired her naked body. The two years of marriage had taken a toll. Her breasts sagged slightly, and a small pooch formed on her belly. A slut has big, fat titties! The thought reverberated in her mind as though on a loudspeaker. She watched as her breasts swelled. They grew two cup sizes before her eyes, turning from meager B cups in to protruding D’s. The nipples poked out, and she brought her hands up to rub the engorged breasts, smiling and hoping that Nathan would like them. Her stomach flattened out and became muscular and toned which drew her attention further down. She’d neglected to shave for the past two days and her pubic area had started to show its wiry hair. Master likes his slut with a bald pussy that’s always wet. Again, the thought manifested. The hair vanished, and Sara felt her pussy lips grow wet with anticipation. A ache formed at the center of her being, and she knew only Nathan would be able to fill it.

Master’s bimbo should have blonde hair, of course. Her mousy brown locks lost their color, turning into platinum blonde and making Sara giggle. In her excitement, she bounced on her heels, making her tits jiggle back and forth. Oh! And Master always says he wants a girl with a big thick booty! Her hand went to grab her ass cheeks as they rippled with new flesh turning into a bubble butt. The feeling drove her wild, and she dropped down to her knees. Her hands snaked around her new, curvaceous body and delved between her thighs. She shoved the fingers of one hand into her pussy while rubbing her clit with the other. Oh, and Master will want my lips to be softer. Big cushions, bright pink for the best cocksucking! As though a bee had stung her, her lips swelled into soft pillows and took on a neon pink hue. She giggled again and punctuated it with a moan. Pleased with what she’d done to herself, she returned to the box, never taking a hand away from her pussy. She looked inside and saw the restraints. As she picked them up, she heard the front door open and shut. Her body flushed with excitement and she turned to face the door as Nathan entered the bedroom.

“What the fuck? Sara, is that you?”

“Yes, Master,” she cooed. “Here, catch!” She tossed the cuffs over to Nathan who reactively caught them.

The woman standing in his bedroom looked barely anything like his wife. His wife had smaller tits and a narrow ass. His wife didn’t have blonde hair or hot pink lips. But it was Sara’s face and her eyes, though they seemed dreamy and distant. He could feel his cock getting hard at the sight of her. Not once had he wished for Sara’s body to be any different, but now that he saw it, he realized it was something he’d wanted all along. She looked like a bimbo, and she’d called him Master. He looked down at the cuffs in his hands. His fingers moved over the smooth leather and everything strangely made sense. His cock surged to life, and he looked back at his wife with a deviant malice. “Who said you could get out of your restraints, slut? My bimbo stays tied to the bed so I can fuck her when I please.”

Sara shrank back a little bit, but her pussy grew even wetter. “I’m sorry, Master.”

“You want to be a good bimbo, right? You don’t want Master to have to spank you, do you?”

“No,” she lied.

“Then get on the fucking bed,” he ordered. Sara whimpered slightly as she obeyed. “On your knees, face the headboard.” Once she was in position, he moved behind her. He grabbed her arms and pulled them behind her back. The cuffs slipped easily over both of her wrists, and he pulled them tight. Instinctively, she struggled, but found herself unable to move her hands even an inch. With her shoulders arched back, her breasts suck out prominently from her chest. Her ass rested on her heels, and she dared a look over at Nathan. He undressed while looking at her as a tiger might look at prey. It made her shake from head to toe with anticipation, but as his pants dropped away, it was time for her bimbo addled brain to be astonished. Nathan’s cock had been average, but the man approaching her was anything but. His cock bobbed in front of him as wide around as her forearm and almost as long. He climbed on the bed and leaned back, showing off a set of washboard abs that had not been there earlier. “Suck it.”

Roughly, he pushed her forward. With no hands to balance on, she had to strain her abs to find the right angle. Her reward was the hot head of her husbands dick pushing into her lips. Nathan groaned as he felt the soft pillows wrap around his cock. His gaze focused on Sara’s upturned ass and her hands bound behind her back, leaving her helpless and exposed. She bobbed along the length of his shaft clumsily, but it still felt amazing. Her tongue undulated along the length of his cock as she shoved more and more of it into her mouth. The old Sara always complained about it taking too much work, but this Sara, his bimbo in a collar, greedily crammed his cock down her throat. “That’s a good girl. Good girls get to suck cock. Bad girls get spankings. Of course, I still have to punish you for not sucking my dick the minute you saw me. A good bimbo doesn’t greet her master with words, but the opposite. You should have crawled over to me and sucked my cock into your mouth, isn’t that right?”

“Mmmhmmmngh,” she mumbled around his dick. Make him cum! Make him shoot his tasty cum in your throat like a good slut!

Nathan pulled out of her mouth suddenly, leaving her gasping for air. He moved around on the bed and pushed her back forward, forcing her to rest against the bed with her shoulder and cheek. He admired the view. Her pussy gaped and glistened with arousal between her thighs while her ass wiggled with even the slightest movement. “Now for your punishment.” He pushed his dick against her pussy lips, but went no further than that. As she tried to slide back against him, he pushed her forward with his hands. In a quick motion, he raised his palm up and slammed it down on her ass. Thwack! The jiggling flesh rippled as though a stone had been dropped in a lake. Sara lurched forward, but Nathan caught her by the wrists and held her in position. He slid his cock against her again, teasing her by pressing the width of his cockhead against her pussy lips. Sara mewled again. Unable to resist, she pushed back. Thwack! A bright red hand print appeared on her ass.

The feeling of her master punishing her drove her wild. Each spank put her closer to the edge of her orgasm and she wanted more, but she also didn’t want to displease Nathan. She held perfectly still for as long as she could. She felt Nathan’s heat as his thighs pressed into the back of hers. She could sense and almost smell the cock between her thighs and the ache in her core was maddening. “Please! Please Master, I’m sorry!” Thwack!

“That’s a good bimbo,” Nathan cooed. His hips rocked forward and his thick cock slid easily inside of her. She groaned and pulled at her restraints. Her neck bulged into the collar reminding her of her place as her pussy walls stretched further than ever before. She knew her master enjoyed it as well as he squeezed her bimbo ass hard. Her walls clamped down on the invading cock, massaging its length and urging it to cum. “Now I’m going to fuck you like the bimbo you are.” Nathan started to slide in and out of her. The absence of his cock made her despair, but the return was better each time. It completed her as it filled her up. All she needed was more of her husband’s cock and everything would be right with the world. As he fucked her, he taunted her, “Yeah, you always were nothing but a stupid bimbo who was desperate for cock. This is what you’ve wanted since we got married, isn’t it. For me to treat you like the slut you always were.” Thwack. The smack sent a shiver of pleasure up through her body and brought her closer.

“Mmm, yes, master. I just want to be your slut. I want you to tie me up and use me however you want. Fuck me, fuck me harder. Let your bimbo cum!” She felt his cock start to spasm inside of her and she pushed back against him hard. Nathan pulled back and let his cock slap wetly on her ass. It slid down between her ass cheeks. He shoved the two sides of her ass together against his cock. He felt as though his balls held gallons and he started to fuck the crack of her ass. He grunted and the first rope sprayed out over Sara’s back. He quickly rolled her onto her side and moved up to let the second wave of cum spray on her breasts. Sara moaned and started to quiver. The humiliation of being used as a cumslut finally sent her over the edge. Nathan leaned back as he stroked his cock and the last spray splattered on Sara’s face. He continued stroking, letting the last few drops fall onto her stomach as she writhed in pleasure.

Nathan caught his breath while looking down at his cum covered wife. He grabbed one of her tits and pinched the nipple, feeling his cock stir with the action. He left the bed, making no effort to give his bimbo any more comfort. Then he noticed the box. Curious, he looked inside and withdrew a riding crop before noticing the note.

“Nathan, I gleaned from our conversation that your wife has been failing to uphold her end of your marital bargain. Please accept these gifts. They will make her more suitable for her intended role while giving you more things to play with. You will also find them beneficial to your own health. —Thaddeus.”

Nathan put the note aside and reached in the box once again. He pulled out a ball gag. “Honey, how do you feel about me gagging you and fucking your ass.”

“I’m a good bimbo, master,” she purred.