Annas Shorts The Bimbo Pill

Hello, my beautiful readers. At the moment I'm working on adding a second chapter to the "becoming free-use"-story, as it seemed to be popular with you guys. As it turned out, it's gonna be a long one, so I thought I'd post something in the meantime. As luck would have it, I found a couple of older drafts on my stepdad's computer. He said it was okey for me to redo them a little, to suit my own writing-style, and then publish them here. He said he meant to create an account and publish them himself, but he never got around to it.

The themes in these stories will vary, but they'll be slightly different to my usual work. These stories, hereby dubbed "Anna's shorts" ('shorts' as in short ones, not the type of pants. I know where you mind is at ;) ), will be less story driven, and focus more on getting to the fun parts. Also, I normally try to base my characters' actions on their established personalities, but to fully enjoy my 'shorts' you, my beautiful reader, will need to suspend disbelief to some degree.

As always, feedback is appreciated. Should I snoop around my stepdad's computer more? Or focus on my longer stories?

Xoxo

/Anna

****

Waking up sure took a long time today. I dread the thought of having to get up and actually leave the comfort of my bed. I guess the body needs more energy to wake up, when it's a bigger body. Not that I'm big all over., I just have huge breasts, and I guess my butt is pretty big as well. That reminds me, I need to ask daddy about my breasts at breakfast. That's a pretty long time coming though, so I might need to write it down to make sure I remember.

If you haven't understood it yet, I'm a bimbo. I don't see it as a slur though, or something to be looked down upon. If fact, I'm really happy with where I am in my life. I have people who love me in my life, and that's a good place to be.

I wasn't always this cheerful though. I think it started about a week ago...

****

Monday.

In the eyes of many, the worst day of the week. We all drag our way out of bed, tired and weary we go to our mindless jobs like zombies, punch in, try to survive until lunch, when we can finally talk to friends, co-workers, and for a blissful moment, life seems to make sense.

I am one of those zombies. I work as a waitress, to make some money until that 'big revelation' comes along and tells me what to do with the years I have as a part of the work force, before retirement. My nametag says 'Anna', though few of the customers in our restaurant bothers to read it. Most of them are men, and they're too busy gawking at my huge breasts to bother learning my name. Yup, I'm a stereotypical 21 year old, large-breasted, blonde, petite waitress, like the ones you see in just about every Hollywood-movie.

I still live with my mom and dad, to save money. Since I'm making money, I've offered to pay rent, but my parents have politely refused. Dad works for a pharmaceutical company and mom is a part time lawyer, and I guess our family is well off.

As I came home from work, I managed to mosey my way into the kitchen, where dad was humming to a tune in his head, smiling and making dinner. Mom was off on some legal conference, and wouldn't be home until Saturday morning. Thankfully, we have all learned to share the chores around the house equally over the years, or I think dad would ruin me with pizza for the entire week.

My eyes caught an unlabeled pill-bottle on the kitchen table, and I grabbed it.

"What's this dad? Some new form of viagra?" I asked, chuckling to myself. Any drug related to male reproduction was where the big money was, and dad worked for one of the major players in the field.

"Nah, those are just some vitamins.. D, I think," dad said, and resumed making his pasta sauce. It was standard operating procedure in our house that when mom travelled for work, dad would make his pasta on the first day. When dad had to travel, mom had a special burger recipe that made my mouth water just thinking about it. I opened the vitamin bottle, thinking that a little extra shot of vitamins never hurt, and swallowed two pills.

Then I went upstairs to my room, wasting the next 30 minutes or so on social media, trying to think of something constructive to do, before dad texted me that dinner was ready. Mom and dad sure had embraced the laziness of the millennial generation, using their phones instead of actually having to walk upstairs to tell me that dinner was ready. I chuckled to myself as I walked downstairs.

When I came into the kitchen, I was taken aback by how dad's pasta sauce smelled positively amazing. The taste was just as amazing, but I couldn't help but notice that dad had a worried look on his face.

"What? Am I eating too fast? I can't help it dad, the sauce is fucking amazing," I said, looking up at dad, between stuffing my face with the piece of heaven that lay on my plate. It took me a moment to realize that I had used a cuss-word. It wasn't a big thing in our house to swear, but I guess since mom and dad never swore, I had never gotten into the habit of swearing either. Dad tried to hide it, but I swore I could see the hint of a reaction in his face.

"Listen, Anna. Those vitamins you took earlier? I forgot about it earlier, but they haven't gone gotten the official FDA approval yet, so I think we'd better wait a week or so, before taking them," dad said, and again I could swear there was a slight look of concern in his eyes. I didn't want to pry though, so I shrugged my shoulder, and smiled.

"Sure, dad," I said, and resumed the delicious meal. Afterwards I did the dishes, before resuming my position on my bed, phone in hand, lazily scrolling through social media. Normally dad and I would watch a movie on Monday nights, we even had a list of some 20 movies that we both loved, and we'd work our way through them, one each Monday, before starting at the top of the list again. What can I say? Both dad and I love movies, but I guess it's also a dad-and-daughter-thing.

That particular Monday, I was pretty exhausted though, so I got into my pyjamas before joining dad on the couch. I fell asleep halfway into the movie, and dad must have carried me upstairs, because I woke up the next morning in my bed.

****

Tuesday.

I had a splitting headache when I woke up, and for a moment, it felt like I couldn't get out of bed. I was close to calling out to dad for help, when I managed to summon the energy to sit up in my bed.

My pyjamas felt unusually tight, and as I looked down, I realized my breasts had grown overnight, and they stretched my pyjama top, to the point where the buttons were close to being ripped off. I let out a groan, realizing I had to go to a clothing store today. I think only my female readers will understand this, but shopping for bras is a hassle in its own right, especially when your breasts are growing. Once you start to reach the sizes I was shopping for, they also become ridiculously expensive. I thought mine had settled into the double D-bras I had bought a while back, but it seemed they'd hit another growth spurt, and I was barely able to squeeze them into the shirt I pulled on for the day.

When I came downstairs, dad had left me a note saying he had an early meeting, but he'd be home in time for dinner. I smiled, thinking I'd thank him for his heavenly pasta with something extra ordinary later that day. Thankfully I had the day off, so I put on a pair of jeans, and as I was about to leave, I noticed the bottle of pills on the kitchen table. I knew dad had talked about them yesterday, but for the life of me I couldn't remember more than him telling me it was some form of vitamins.

Oh, well. I guess I'd better take two. I guess you can never have too many vitamins, right?

When I drove to a mall I couldn't help but notice that people seemed extra friendly that day, and a part of me wondered if there was something in the air outside. Whatever it was, my clothes shopping went without a hitch. The older man in the lingerie store even offered to help me try out a bra. At first it felt weird, and wrong somehow, to let a man watch me undress in a changing room, but he said he understood the plight of busty women, and the need for comfort. He looked harmless enough, so I let him help me.

When I came home, I put one of my new bras on, smiling to myself as I looked at my reflection in the mirror. For some reason, my reflection made me realize that I really didn't have anything to be embarrassed about body-wise. I had an inviting butt, a reasonably flat stomach, and who among hot-blooded males would object to a huge pair of tits? When I realized I should be proud of my body, I also realized that I probably had been pretty sad lately. Well, enough of that. Hereby, I solemnly vow to stop moping around.

I giggled to myself, realizing how silly I was, talking to myself in the mirror. Well, if coming off as silly was the price for happiness, then it was a price I'd be willing to pay.

The newfound me decided it was time to start making dinner, so I walked downstairs and got to work. I was just cutting up the last vegetables when dad came home. He stopped dead in his tracks as he came into the kitchen, and stared at me.

"Y-you... Did you run out of clean clothes?" dad asked, clearing his throat. I looked down, and chuckled at my own forgetfulness. I had only been wearing a pair of yoga-pants as I was trying on my new bra, and evidently I had forgotten to put on a shirt.

"Nah, I just went bra shopping today, and I guess I forgot to put on a shirt," I said smiling and shrugging my shoulders. After all, he was my father, so there was no harm in him seeing me in my lingerie right?

Dad swallowed hard, but then sat down at the table as I set up the food. I'll admit that I'd probably be laughed out of any cooking show on TV, but it was good enough for me and my parents. That day, I really felt like I nailed it, and dad seemed to enjoy my cooking as well. I guess this new confident me was off to a good start. Another of our "family traditions" held that if one person made the meal, the others would do the dishes afterwards. Dad was about to reach for my plate and begin his chore, but this time I stopped him.

"How about I do the dishes today, dad. In the meantime, you go and pick a movie, so we can have a movie night tonight," I suggested with a big smile. Dad smiled back and nodded.

"Of course, I'd love to spend two evenings in a row with my wonderful daughter," dad said, and walked to the living room. To be honest though, 'picking' a movie meant checking to see which movie was next on our list, but I guess that's just nitpicking. On the subject of nitpicking I guess I could say that 'doing the dishes' basically meant putting the pans, plates, glasses and cutlery in the dish washer and pressing a button.

It meant though that it was quickly finished, and once more I felt tired, so again I decided to change into my pyjamas. Just as I was about to leave the kitchen, I saw the bottle of pills once again. I couldn't quite remember what they were for. Vitamins, right? I guess dad wouldn't leave them out if they were harmful, so I'd better take one. Just to be sure. After going upstairs to change, I joined dad on the living room couch.

About an hour into the movie, my eyelids started to feel heavy, so I lay down on the couch, resting my head on dad's lap. I smiled as I felt the warmth of his body, and not even the interesting story line of the movie could keep me from closing my eyes. The last thing I felt before falling asleep was dad resting his hand on my shoulder.

This time, I woke up before the closing credits, and I slowly opened my eyes. Dad and I had seen the movie enough times for me to know that I hadn't slept for much more than 30 minutes or so. The room felt oddly warm as I lay there, resting on dad's lap. It took me a moment or two before I realized that either had I forgotten to button up my pyjamas shirt, or dad had unbuttoned it while I was asleep. I couldn't quite remember if I had buttoned it, but even as the realization hit me that my shirt was unbuttoned, I felt dad's hand on my belly.

It felt really nice to have him touch my belly, and I closed my eyes, losing myself in the affectionate caress. It didn't take long before I felt his hand slowly move up my stomach, and up over my breasts. His hand stopped once he reached my nipple. I bit my lower lip to keep from letting out a moan, as I didn't want to scare him off. It felt so amazing, and I remained completely still, afraid that any movement would let him know that I was awake, or that he'd pull away his hand.

A part of me wondered if what he was doing was wrong, to be cheating on mom like this. Though, to be honest, I didn't think what he was doing would be classified as sex, which would mean that it wouldn't be classified as cheating either. Right? As for the wrong part, aren't family members supposed to make each other feel safe? And loved? And comfortable? In that moment, dad was making me feel all those things, and by that logic, it couldn't be classified as wrong. With all my misgivings put aside, I closed my eyes and enjoyed dad's gentle touch. I wished that the movie had been longer, but eventually the credits began rolling on the tv-screen, and I realized that meant the closeness with my dad was soon over as well.

I managed to suppress a giggle, hoping that dad would carry me to my bed tonight as well, which he did. I knew dad was surprisingly fit for a man his age, but my admiration for him rose a couple of notches for being able to carry his 24 year old daughter up a flight of stairs.

I managed to feign being asleep all the way, and he gently dropped me in my bed.

"Good night, my beautiful," dad whispered, and I was just about to whisper back, when I realized that would give the game away, and he'd know I was awake the whole time. Not wanting to explain why I made him carry me upstairs, I remained silent, even as dad leaned down and placed a kiss on my right nipple. It was a fleeting kiss, but it made my whole body tingle with arousal.

Thankfully I heard dad walk out from my room after the kiss, and I tore off my pyjamas. My body felt like it was burning up, and I knew that the only way to calm down was to finger myself to what would surely be a massive orgasm. I also knew who'd no doubt make an appearance in my mind as I fingered myself, but fantasies couldn't be classified as incest right? Pleased with having rationalized fantasizing about my own father I got to work, and to make a long story short: I'm glad I had the presence of mind to cover my mouth, or the whole neighborhood would have heard me cum on my fingers. I fell asleep moments later, with a huge smile of satisfaction on my lips.

****

Wednesday

I woke up the next day, feeling surprisingly cheerful. I knew there was somewhere I was supposed to go today, somewhere that I really didn't want to go, but for the life of me, I couldn't remember where. I got out of bed, and realized I was naked. Oh, right. I had fingered myself to a pretty massive orgasm last night, and I couldn't help but smile at the memory of that intense sensation.

I looked around room, but I couldn't find any of the new bras I bought yesterday. Come to think of it, I couldn't find my pyjama shirt either. Oh well, I shrugged my shoulders and put on my pyjama pants, and walked downstairs to get some breakfast.

Dad was usually already at work when I came downstairs, but today he was still drinking his coffee by the kitchen table when I came into the room. He stopped drinking as I walked in, his arm frozen halfway as he was raising his cup to drink from it. It looked almost comical, as if from a comic book, and I couldn't help but smile at him.

"Morning daddy," I said cheerfully, and poured myself a cup of coffee.

"Morning, princess," dad replied, and resumed sipping his coffee. "Did you forget something?" he asked after a moments silence. At first I didn't understand what he meant, but then I saw the bottle of pills on the kitchen counter.

"Oh, right. My vitamins," I said chuckling at my own forgetfulness. I took two pills and starting filling a glass of water, when I felt dad walking up behind me.

"I was actually referring to your state of undress," he said, his voice thick. I was a little taken aback as I felt him reach in under my arms to cup my breasts. Then again, having him touch me made me happy and horny. A part of me felt like there was something wrong with what he was doing, but I couldn't remember why, so I disregarded the notion. Dads were supposed to make their daughters happy after all, so I just smiled as I swallowed my vitamins and drank my glass of water. Feeling dad's hands on my breasts made my body feel all tingly inside.

"I have to get to work, princess," dad said, and sadly he pulled away his hands. "How about another movie night after dinner tonight?" he asked, and I turned around with a big smile. Movie night three nights in a row with one of the two people I loved most in the world?

"Oh course, daddy," I replied. Dad smiled back at me, gave me a kiss on the cheek before leaving. Something dad said reminded me that I had somewhere to be, but since I couldn't remember where, I decided to go out to our backyard where we had a huge pool.

It was already really hot outside, and the sun was shining, so I lay down in one of our deck chairs, closed my eyes, and savored the warmth for a while. The sun felt so nice on my cheeks that I actually dozed off for a while.

I woke up some time later, and the heat on my breasts reminded me that I hadn't used any sun screen, so I went inside. I also realized I was still just wearing my pyjama pants. Oh well, if any of our neighbors got a look at my breasts I guess it was too late to do anything about that now.

I took a shower, and since I still couldn't find my pyjama shirt, I put on my pyjama pants, and spent the rest of the day on social media. I don't remember how, but I also found a forum where people, I guess mostly guys, discussed their fascination with bimbos. I was pretty amusing to see how open people were being about the fetish. Maybe it had something to do with being anonymous over the internet? Then again, if someone shared their interest, being anonymous meant that you couldn't talk directly to that person, which sort of defeated the purpose of sharing it... right?

Eventually I had to put my phone down and get started on dinner. I wanted to have it ready for when daddy came home, as a surprise.

I put on an apron, and busied myself making dinner. I knew my cooking couldn't compete with dads, but I wanted to have a shot at replicating that pasta sauce dad made the other day. I was well on my way to making a really delicious sauce, when dad came home.

"I'm home, princess," dad called out from the hallway, and then walked into the kitchen.

"Hiya dad," I said turning my head to smile back at him. He had a peculiar look on his face as he looked at me. I gave him a quizzical look, but he simply chuckled and starting setting the table as I continued my cooking. When he was done, he walked up behind me, and once more he reached around under my apron, giving my breasts a gentle squeeze.

"Pasta sauce, huh?" dad said, his hands still on my breasts. "Having a go at beating me at my signature dish, are we?" he asked, and chuckled, before leaning down to place a kiss on my neck. For a moment, it felt like he was treating me as he treated mom. They had always been very touchy-feely with each other, but now he was touchy-feely with me. I couldn't help but giggle at the thought of daddy treating me like a wife. In a way, I was like a wife, at home, cooking for my man.

Dad suddenly pulled his hands away from my breasts and cleared his throat. A part of me already missed his touch, but the boiling pasta reminded me that I was supposed to be making dinner.