Trang was a normal girl in Vietnam. She was slim, sensuous and her face could bewitch most men. It certainly bewitched Dave Potter when he saw it on the internet dating site. He started contacting her, learnt that she was an intelligent, independent woman, and within a month he was catching a plane over there to Ho Chi Minh City.
They met, they talked, they kissed and they fell in love. “Would you mind going for a professional photo shoot?” asked Dave. Trang of course, did not mind. She went to the most expensive studio in town, (after all, Dave was paying), and posed for a series of elegant photographs wearing her traditional dress, the ao dai.
Dave left, but returned again three months later. A week after his arrival, they were married, and a month after that, they were on the plane jetting towards Southern California where he lived.
After alighting from the plane they drove south and south, until they were but a few kilometers from the Mexican border. Then they stopped at a large house. “Do you live here?” asked Trang.
“Yes I do my honey,” replied Dave.
They got out of the car and entered the luxurious marble-tiled confines. “Sit down,” said Dave. “I’ll make you a drink,” he added. He disappeared and returned a moment later with an iced coffee. Trang took it with a smile and sipped it slowly. Then, strangely, she began to feel dizzy, her whole went hazy and Dave smiled.
She awoke feeling groggy. She was no longer in the luxury mansion, but instead a hospital room. She was lain on a bed and all around her, doctors milled about. She tried to get up from the bed, but discovered that she was tied down. Dave came into view, smiling. “What’s happened?” she asked. “Have I had an accident?”
“No, my dear, I’m just having you modified a little, that’s all. So that you more suit my tastes.”
“Modified? What? Where?” She was very confused.
“Where? Oh in a place where the law does not matter,” said her husband with a laugh.
Then a doctor came up to her, injected something into her arm, and the world went black once more.
When she awoke the seond time she found that she was no longer in the hospital. Instead, she was in a bedroom. A very pink bedroom. A bedroom covered with pink silken sheets, pink hearts and large pink soft toys. The only non-pink thing in it was Dave, who was sat at the foot of the bed, again wearing a broad smile on his face.
“You’re awake my darling!” he exclaimed. “Very good! Welcome to your new life Bunnykins!”
‘Bunnykins’? What did he mean? What did that English word mean? She sat up and discovered that she was naked, save a tiny plastic pink bikini. She felt different. Curled hair brushed against her face.But why? She put her hand to her face. Her hand didn’t work! What was happening? She asked Dave. Except that she didn’t ask anything. All that came out of her mouth was a gurgle. She couldn’t speak!
“You’re wondering about the modifications that I’ve made to you I suppose?” he said.
“Well, the hands. I’ve had them changed in hospital. The fingers have had metal rods inserted beneath the skin, so that they cannot bend and the fingers themselves have been sewn together and these fantastic pink false nails, an inch in length attached to the tips of each one. Then there’s the wrists, also unmovable. Your hands are useless now. Left for decorative purposes only. And you mouth? You will find that that will no longer open wider than a one inch ‘o’, the size of my cock in fact. Inside, your voice chords have been snapped and your teeth removed and the mouth itself reshaped so that it is smaller and therefore, more comfortable for my tool. Of course, speaking is not an impossibility. Your mind however, I have left unchanged. I wish you to appreciate every second of this change in your life. Now, what else, ah yes, your feet. In a permanent en pointe ballet position. Walking any distance is now impossible for you, but you can mince about the house to my pleasure. Your breasts and buttocks have of course been enhanced, that goes without saying. Let’s get you up and dressed.”
He picked his wife up and laced a pair of en pointe boots on her feet and then covered them with schoolgirl white socks and white girly shoes that disguised the fact that the feet were held at an angle. Trang tried walking on these and found it almost an impossibility. They then went over to a wardrobe and Dave brought out a ridiculous little girl’s dress in pink, festooned with bows, which he proceed to dress his wife in. “You might be wondering why you are finding it difficult to resist me. I shall explain,” said he. “You are now being fed on a compound designed by nutriotional experts. It provides all the vitamins and nutrients that you need for daily life, but none of the chemicals that give you strength. Consequently, whilst fed on it you shall always be healthy, yet alas also weak. Certain of your muscles though, I require to be always toned. Therefore, you will be pleased to learn that thrice weekly you will be having butt massages to keep that now enlarged part of your anatomy firm and pleasing to me.” He finished tying the dress around her, then led her to a chair where copious amounts of make-up were smeared onto Trang’s face: bright pink lipstick, black line on her eyebrows and to her horror, enormous false lashes that obscured her view a little. He then produced a large pink ribbon and tied to to her hair. “By the way,” commented he, “your hair will be forever curled and blonde from now on.” Then, with a smile, he delcared, “My little girl Bunnykins is complete! Take a look at yourself in the mirror.”
Bunnykins turned to the looking glass that he held before her. Staring at her was a little Asian-girl fantasy, ready to be plucked and used and then cast aside. She blinked and her false lashes batted up and down. “Pretty aren’t you, Bunnykins?” said Dave, brushing her blonde ringlets. “Now bend over!” Bunnykins did not heed her husband, so he bent her over himself, so that her arse was facing the air. Pulling down her bikini panties, he said. “One more thing. Your lovely bottom is not large enough for me to enter yet, so it must be trained.” Then to her surprise, he thrust a large and well-lubricated dildo into it, causing her to gurgle loudly. “Such a pretty sound, your gurgle is,” was the only comment that Dave made, before righting her. “Now kneel!” he commanded. This time Bunnykins obeyed.
“Now, your main, nay, only purpose in life is to receive cock, so today, I am going to introduce you to the art of blowing.” He unbuttoned his fly and took his tool out. Bunnykins unwillingly took that erect member into her modified mouth and started sucking. “No! No! Harder! Harder!” cried Dave, grabbing her head rougly and fucking her face with vigour. As he came a minute or so later, Bunnykins looked up and saw one of the the photos of her in her ao dai from the photo shoot in Vietnam, and realised what a terrible change had happened to her. Gone was proud, independent, intelligent Trang. Arrived was Bunnykins the Bimbo, Dave’s little Asian girl fucktoy.
Copyright © 2004, Dave Potter