Becoming Cupcake: Parts 1-3

I have posted this piece here after the Benfanstorybox Yahoo Group folded so that it is not lost.


This is a continuing story that takes place within Cherish Valley, fictional city I created.  Although all content and ideas within this story are my own, I invite anyone to write their own stories based within this world.  All I ask is that you email me first ( and ask my permission in doing so and then credit me so

 These stories detail a futuristic “concept town” created in the deserts below “Silicone Valley.”  A town which mirrors, modernizes, and improves upon the setting of The Stepford Wives where women are involuntarily transformed into walking, talking sex bimbos for their horny, desperate husbands.

They represent an extreme experimentation into the boundaries I set within my sexual preferences and fetishes.  I hope to set off a trend of Cherish Valley tales, such as the Master PC series has and continue the themes and ideas expressed in them into other tales as well.  Hopefully, you’ll see that the possibilities here in Cherish are endless.


“Becoming Cupcake”

Chapter One – Stray Bimbos

Allison Anders was lost.  Allison Anders was tired and hungry.  Allison Anders was walking down the proverbial desert highway in search of an unclear future.

In short, Allison Anders was exactly where she wanted to be.

It had been close to seven months since she ran away from home in search of a music career.  Home was not where the heart was.  It was not in a house where a drunken man she cringed to even call “step-dad” used her ass as an ashtray coaster.

It had started just a couple months after her mother had taken ill with cancer.  The man she called stepdad had quit all his sexual innuendos and sly glances.  He had stopped pausing at her bedroom door to beat off as she pretended to sleep.  And he had stopped pretending that he loved her mother.  Rather, Allison’s mom getting sick was the best thing that could’ve happened to him.  She always figured that he hadn’t really loved her mother anyway.  She even imagined that it was her face that was really on his mind, every time he screwed her mom.

And who was to blame him?  While Allison’s mother was a looker back in her day… she had hit the wall.  Too many years of drunken mourning over her husband’s death had put her directly in the path of Lyle Corbett.  Less than a year later, Lyle was Allison’s new stepdad and the days of panty sniffing and late night ejaculations in their blue, carpeted hallway had begun.

Allison was her father’s child.  Yet she had her mother’s looks.  5.6 in height, 118 pounds, B cup, and blonde hair which she wore almost shaved to the scalp.  It was her look.  And she didn’t care what anyone felt about it.  Allison never took to the baby jane look that so many aunts and uncles loved about her as a little girl.  Rather, she rebelled against her looks.  Never having a solid school life, Allison didn’t fit in anyway.  She had no strong friends to speak of and no hobbies or guys to fuss about.

Allison wasn’t necessarily a tomboy.  She liked boys alright.  But she only respected musicians.  It was what she strived to become after all.  For her, getting wet over a guy meant listening to Billy Corgan’s fake harmonic at the climax of the guitar solo for “Soma.”  It meant listening to John Lennon’s voice crack.  It meant taking Led Zeppelin’s song “Going to California” literally.

And so hear she was, an acoustic guitar over her back that she was still learning to play… crumpled maps in her backpack along with a collection of lyrics, clothes and stolen 7-11 sandwich packs.  She had crossed the California border from the southern part of the state while hitching a ride with a bunch of frat guys who ignored her B breasts, thin lips and short, “boyish” haircut, yet continually studied her hippie jeans and red cowboy boots with frowning faces and jock-type chuckles.

To this, Allison’s reply would always be, “I’m a musician.  Aren’t I entitled to my own look?”  But the “look” was just a cover for the fact that Allison was beyond desperate.  Sure, she was finally in California.  It had taken months of sleeping in motels, sneaking around, stealing food, and hitching rides across half the country to get here.  But she was here.  Still, L.A. was a long ways off.  She had only ventured as far north as San Diego and still had a ways to go.  Yet her destination seemed hopeless since Allison had lost a majority of the confidence that got her this far.  Who was she fooling anyway?  She wrote great lyrics, but her playing was only sub-par.  She was no Jewel or Melissa Ethridge (two musicians that she despised) and her “look” was some sort of mesh of “country” meets “hippie”.

Where the hell was she going on this road anyway?


The town loomed up in the distance.  The road almost seemed to dead-end into it.  It’s front gate resembled something Disney World would use in Epcott Center for some new and futuristic culture.

The sun was high and Allison was starved and sweating beyond belief when she crossed through the gates of Cherish Valley.  “The only thing I’d ‘cherish’ right now is a cold Gatorade,” she thought.

Allison had entered some sort of circular town square, where multiple, paved roads went in three different directions.  The statue in the town resembled a man looking powerful and awe-inspiring.  In his right hand was a small globe and tucked under the nestle of his left was a wide-eyed woman, practically cowering in his protective embrace.

“A little sexist, eh?” thought Allison.  Nevertheless, she quickly crossed the sparkling clean street of the town center and found herself on a semi-crowded sidewalk littered with coffee shops, Tofu restaurants, yogurt catteries and… more coffee shops.  Bobbing in and out of the sidewalk patrons, Allison was greeted with cheerful smiles from women who looked like they had stepped out of a 1950’s Playboy centerfold.

Frowning, Allison tried to push on to the nearest deli or bodega… but the nagging feeling like she was being (studied) watched kept pulling at her.  Caught up in a rush of billowing skirts, floral patterned dresses, summer gloves, stockings, high heels, chokers, hair spray… Allison finally had to rest on the curb of the sidewalk.  Her hunger and thirst temporarily put on hold.  Something was wrong here.

Something was off about this town.

Suddenly a pink-gloved hand rested on Allison’s shoulder and the smiling, beautiful face of a young woman knelt beside her, being careful not to let her dress touch the pristine pavement.

“Are you lost, dear stray?” asked the woman.  “What did you call me?” asked Allison.  And that was when things got weirder.  For it seemed like every male eye was suddenly glued to her.  A business man across the street had decided to lean against a mailbox and light a cigarette.  The look on his face suggested that he was playfully waiting for something to happen.

An old store owner stepped out of his bakery to get some air.  Or so it seemed at first, because now, he too, was watching Allison closely, an eager expression on his face.

Now the business man was stopping another man, dressed likewise.  Pointing towards Allison, yet another set of eyes was now glued on her.

“I said, are you lost, dear tray?” asked the woman.  “I was heading to the grocery market to fetch Bill some baked beans.  He like, totally loves his baked beans.”

Allison could only stare at this beautiful woman who spoke like some ditzy housewife, wondering where the hell she could possibly be.  Everything seemed too perfect, yet off.  Why was everyone looking at her?  Sure, she didn’t seem to fit in with the Barbie Doll type woman around her, but this was America.  She wouldn’t fit into an Amish society either.  Yet she’d feel safer there than she felt right now.

And that was when it happened.  Two men in white medical uniforms suddenly appeared from a crowd on the sidewalk across the street.  Crossing the road, they seemed to mean business.  And they were bearing down on Allison quick.

Before Allison knew it, she was on her feet, backing away with a confused look on her face.  “We’ll take over from here, Mrs. Wolstone.”  said the taller man in the medical clothes.

“Ohh, goody,” said Mrs. Wolstone.  “After all, I like, can’t be late in getting back to my Bill.”  Clicking away in her 6-inch, pink high heels, Mrs. Wolstone waved a dainty, gloved hand at Allison.  “Ta ta.”

But Allison’s attention was drawn to the two men who were now standing right in front of her.  Backing away, she said, “Is there a problem?  I was just catching my breath.  I can leave if you want—“

A sharp prickly pierced her ass and that pristine concrete quickly swallowed Allison up.


Allison awoke in a most peculiar and uncomfortable position.  She was lying, strapped to a board with her arms fastened at her sides.  Some sort of choker around her neck stopped her from tilting her head too far forward.  Yet the gesture would prove fruitless as the board was in a vertical position.

Standing before her was a short, balding man with a name tag that said “Dr. Gruber” on it. Gruber was dressed in a white medical suit and held a clipboard out before him.  Beside him was an even shorter man who looked to be in his mid 60s.  Wrinkled more than he should be, the man hunched over and wore a sly, almost toothless grin behind his pasty, old lips.  His few remaining white hairs, sprouted out from his pockmarked head in several directions.  He was dressed as a golfer and held a cane.

“Ahh, she awakens.” said Dr. Gruber.

“Where the hell am I?” demanded Allison.

“Silence, slut.  You don’t get to ask any questions.  Just lie there and take in your surroundings.  We’ll do all the talking.”  said Gruber.

Allison began to grow very worried.  More worried than she was just five seconds ago.  Something in Gruber’s cold, calculated stare and the way he had addressed her as “slut” just now unsettled her.  He seemed way too professional and her suspicions that this was more than just an unorthodox kidnapping grew by the second.

“But I don’t—“

“Melvin, you were right.  I guess we should’ve gagged her after all.” said Gruber.  Gruber produced some sort of plug gag from his coat pocket.  It was pink at the head and had a white leather strap.  Handing the gag to Melvin, Gruber continued to study Allison’s body, taking notes as he did.

Melvin meanwhile seemed like a kid on Christmas morning.  “Thank you, Dr. Gruber.  This is getting better by the minute.”  Melvin hobbled over to Allison’s naked, strapped body and leaned his cane against her crotch.  Fiddling with the gag, Allison could only stare at it in shock as she realized that a rather long dildo was attached to its end.

Staring into Melvin’s watery eyes, Allison was about to plead when Melvin pinched her nose and stretched open her mouth.  Shoving the pink dildo deep into her mouth, he fastened the strap around the back of her head, pulling it super tight.  “Although I hate her hair, Doc… I must say that it’s easier buckling the gags.”

“You like having them gagged don’t you, Melvin?”

“Yep, but like you said before… the dental treatment is easier.  I like it when they get to eat cock all day.” Chuckled Melvin.

“So I take it we’ll be making a cast of your…” Gruber pointed a finger at Melvin’s crotch.

Melvin chuckled again, spraying spittle all over Allison’s gagged face.  Coming off tippy toes, Melvin tapped Allison on the nose and then regained his flat footing.  “No… I’m afraid you’ll have to make it a little bigger.”  Melvin looked sad.

“Ohh, come, Melvin.” said Gruber. “She’ll love it no matter how big it is.  After we extract all her teeth, she won’t care how small you are.  She’ll suck that cock of yours like there’s no tomorrow.  And when she’s not sucking, she’ll be wearing a mouthful of fused dentures that don’t open with an even bigger cock filling her mouth…. all day long.”

“But I want her to speak sometimes, Doc.  I like how stupid they sound when they try to make sense.  So put a check under “lispy voice” on that form of yours.”

Allison writhed into her gag.  Her fear replaced by anger as she twisted her face back and forth, screaming into the dildo that filled her mouth.

“Ooooh, she’s a wild one, Grube.” said Melvin.

“Most strays are.  They wander away from their homes thinking this world will open its kind arms to them.  And then they cross our front gates and we have one more wife, one more waitress, one more maid, one more slut to add to our population.  I’ve always adored the Cherish Stray Retain System.” said Gruber.

Melvin meanwhile, had found a new home for his cane.  Jiggling the steal head of it into Allison’s nether lips, Allison struggled the best she could.  And then Melvin cut with the teasing and rammed the cane as far into Allison’s cunt as he could.

“MPPPGHHHHHHHH!!!” was the only sound Allison could make as Melvin slowed down the pace, fucking the young runaway with the head of his cane. “Such a naughty girl, my Cupcake is.” said Melvin.

Dr. Gruber just shook his head back and forth, grinning as if he had seen this very same scene many times before.

“Okay, let’s go over this again.  I already know that Gina’s death had a small effect on you.  You complained numerous times that she was unfit for your extreme tastes.”

Pumping away at Allison still, Melvin said, from over his shoulder, “Yes, she was a good little bimbo for the first few years.  But I grew tired of her.  I don’t like em’ old.”

“Well, Gina was your wife.  And she was also one of our first cases.  So you have to understand our clause.  The Cherish amendments board states that you have to fulfill a pre-determined amount of time with your wife unless she was brought on by the town committee to serve as your—“

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Melvin waved Gruber off.  “Let’s just get this one right.”  Melvin began stroking Allison’s tear-stained face, still fucking her with the cane with his other hand.

Gruber went back to Melvin’s form.  “Well, okay.  It says here you like her height, but you want her weight down to 108.  You have tits set at 34E.  Good choice.”

“Thank you,” grinned Melvin, poking a finger into the nipple of Allison’s B cups.  Spraying Allison with more spittle, Melvin leaned into her face again and whispered, “I like big boobies… and so will you, my little bimbo.”  Allison whipped her head away, wondering when the hell she would wake up from this insane nightmare.

Gruber continued, “Level 3 collagen lip enhancement.  Doll eyes, raised cheek bones, platinum hair graft, 18 inch waist…” Gruber looked up.  “You realize that if you want her by the end of the month, we’re going to have to take two ribs out to get that waist down?”

Allison’s eyes went wide as Melvin nodded impatiently.  “Of course I know that.  And make sure that you get her ass into a nice, heart-shaped bubble.”

“Come now, Melvin, you know that’s standard.”

Melvin made a sarcastic face, Ohh, yeah.  Of course.

“As for her intelligence… we scanned her at a 145 IQ.  Pretty impressive.  She was a drop-out, but most 140’s usually are.  Pity they never realize how smart they really are.”  Gruber chuckled.

“I don’t care if she could’ve earned a Pulitzer Prize.  I want this girl brainless.”

“Of course, Melvin, of course.” Gruber jotted down some quick stats as Allison watched on in horror.  He had mentioned IQs…. did that mean they were going to operate on her brain?  What about her music career?  Her writing?  Her life?

Almost as if he was reading her mind, Melvin leaned in one final time and sprayed a wet whisper in her face, “You gonna be my little airheaded Barbie Doll, aren’t you, Cupcake?”

And then Melvin licked the side of Allison’s face, leaving a long line of drool which collected at her chin and dripped on to her nipple.

Continued in Chapter 2, “Cupcake’s Homecoming”…

If you liked this first chapter of my story, let me know.  I have more planned for Allison where her transformation into Cupcake… Melvin’s new bimbo, will proceed.  But I’d like some feedback on what I’ve typed so far.  So email me at

Later – The Mayor

Chapter Two – Cupcake’s Homecoming

Allison awoke in a sea of pink.  The ruffled collar of a pink baby doll nighty greeted her chin while the laced ruffles of a pink comforter swallowed her into the confines of a pink, satin bed with matching pillows.  Staring up, a pink canopy, covered in more pink satin, smiled down upon her.

Where was she?  Why couldn’t she remember anything?  A smothered feeling of nightmares pushed back into her sub-conscious mind seemed to wink at her, more than leer.

Rising out of the sea of comforters, Allison stretched… and that’s when she noticed her hands: Two perfectly manicured hands with a “baby pink” polish ending in one inch square tips.  Allison studied them, shocked.  She tapped them against the night table: acrylic.  Maybe permanent.

And then her hair spilled down from her bonnet… a cascading flow of platinum blonde tresses, styled into French curls.  They landed on the twin mounds of her 34E breasts.

34E breasts…

Allison opened her mouth to scream, but not a sound escaped her collagen-enhanced lips.  Seizing her breasts out of pure shock, she squeezed them… not believing the sight of them until finally—

Allison squealed, a high-pitched little girl’s scream, as the heaviest, earth shattering sensation she had ever felt erupted in her pussy.

Pleasure that she had never felt… pleasure that scared (thrilled) her.

“What’s happened to me?!?”

Downstairs, Melvin stirred his early morning coffee, practically giggling to himself.  He had already taken Allison’s virginity while she lay unconscious.  Fuck Gruber and all his traditional “Wait till they’re awake before you break them in” mantras.  It had been close to a month since they had caught this slut wandering around town.  Dumb runaways.  Capturing and transforming “strays” was perhaps the best idea this town had come up with yet.

A month of waiting.  Surgery after surgery.  Statistic after statistic.  Gruber and his cronies loved keeping the men of Cherish Valley in suspense.  Sure, Melvin had been down this road before back when he and his wife first moved to Cherish.  But she was gone now.  And it was high time that he acquired a new toy.

Upstairs, Melvin’s new “toy” had just fallen out of bed.  “Ha,” thought Melvin, “Give the bimbo a few more minutes to explore her new changes.”  Then he’d come up and explain everything.  Or at least, what he felt like explaining.

Upstairs, Melvin’s toy… Allison Anders… was laying on the pink carpet.  Tears of shock streaming down her face.

What – the – fuck – had – happened?

And less importantly, where the hell she was?  The last thing she could recall was…. Well, Allison really couldn’t recall much of anything.  Her mind was a complete blank.  When she thought of family, the face of some old man appeared.  When she thought of home… some house in a utopian fantasy appeared.  And when she thought of her life… only feelings of servitude, pleasure and submissiveness surfaced.

Allison grabbed the sides of her curly head and squeezed at her temples.  Somehow, she regained her footing.  It was the 7 inch heels on her stocking-clad feet that had made her lose her balance when she stepped from the bed.  Who the hell wore shoes to bed anyway?

People like you, Cupcake.

There it was again!  That voice in her head.  Her aching head.

Walking from the Victorian style bed, Allison found that the high heels were actually not a bother at all.  In fact, they fit perfect and even soothed her high arches.

Taking the room in, Allison noticed how dominant the color pink was.  Pink, the color bimbos wore.  Cheerleaders.  Girly girls.  The exact opposite of everything Allison had always strived to be.  But even these thoughts seemed fuzzy.  Thinking in general seemed fuzzy.

Allison turned from the pink wallpaper with the ribbon designs to find herself staring into a wall-length mirror.

That was when she fainted.


“Come now, dear.  It’s not that bad.  Daddy is here.”

Allison awoke, crunched up like a little girl in the lap of some old man.

“Wha— what?” asked Allison, brushing her long, blonde hair from her face.

“C’mon, up!  Get up.  Time you saw what Daddy Melvin has done to you.”

Lifting her up, Melvin brought Allison back over to the mirror.  And then she remembered why she had fainted.

Allison Anders was no longer a woman.  Allison Anders had become a cartoon.  A Little Annie Fanny.  A surgically-enhanced wonder slut.

Her hair resembled that of a dolls.  Long, platinum blonde tresses done into a severe French curl that began at the top of her head (where a pretty pink bow rested) and trailed down to the small of her back.

Her face was angelic beauty.  Porcelain skin with rosy, high cheek bones; two, round eyes of an almost opaque, blue nature.  When she blinked, her long eye lashes fluttered like… a dolls.  Pencil thin eyebrows rose high when she took in her cute, perky, button nose, resting above a set of unbelievably fat, collagen enhanced lips, shaped into a cupid’s bow.  Made into a perfect, bee-sting pout, Allison’s new lips were so puffy that she couldn’t even close them.  They seemed to always be open in a perpetual “o” and were swathed in a coat of thick, pink lip gloss.

Melvin noticed the girl fingering her new lips.  Raising a wrinkled appendage, he inserted his crusty finger deep into Allison’s mouth.  Instinctively, Allison’s fat lips closed around his finger, inviting and welcoming it like a tight vagina.

“Ahh, Gruber’s done his work.”

Allison wanted to yank Melvin’s hand from her mouth, but she found all she could do was stare down, cross-eyed at Melvin’s hand like a frozen idiot. And then Melvin’s finger popped out of Allison’s mouth with a wet slurp… a set of dentures attached.  Allison immediately raised her pink fingers and began searching for her teeth.

Why were there no teeth in her mouth???

Her teeth were in Melvin’s hand and all that Allison was greeted with was a set of shiny, wet gums where her teeth once were.

“Ma eef!” pleaded Allison.

“What, dear.  I believe you’re enquiring about your teeth?”

Allison shook her head up and down, frantically, her hand still covering her new mouth.

“Why, what good would teeth do a set of lips like that?” With that, Melvin pinched Allison’s lower lip.  “You’ll wear your dentures when we have to make appearances.  And even then, they’ll be fused together with a cast of my dildo behind them.  Can’t have you forgetting that my cock is your new lollipop.  Little girls like lollipops, don’t they?” Melvin chuckled, as he fidgeted with some sort of dildo at the back of the wet dentures in his hand  “Ohh, you’ll find opening your mouth when they’re in quite a treat… since I can sometimes make it impossible.  These ones here are able to open, but don’t get used to that.  Most of the others will be fused together.”

“Wha hafff u uun?”

“I removed your teeth, silly girl.  What good would they do a cock sucker like you anyway?  Don’t you see, I don’t care what comes out of your mouth, only what goes into it.  And in this case, my cock is what goes into it.  You’re mouth is my new cum deposit.  And when you get too chatty, I’ll just insert your “special dentures” in.”  Melvin gestured to the dildo, which he attached and then removed from the back of the dentures.  “All you’ll be able to do is smile and look pretty, with a cast of my penis, filling your mouth.”

Allison shook her head back and forth in shock… but it was quickly forgotten as she took in the rest of her new body: The pink, feminine nighty did little too hide her new, 34E breasts.  Nipples the size of a finger tip pointed out from the thin fabric… almost groping for the air before them.  Losing the urge not to touch them, Allison lifted her breasts as high as she could and was amazed to feel how firm they were, and how they sagged very little when she released them.  Rather, they seemed to bounce even higher up then they previously sat.

Next, she took in her waist.  Melvin had a thing for 18 inch waists.  And so two of Allison’s ribs had been removed.  It was her first surgery, since it took the longest to heal.

Allison’s hips flared out around a 34 inch bubble butt shaped into a heart.  When she sat, it felt like a pillow under her ass.  Only the pillow was her ass.  Since the pink nighty ended at her belly button, and Allison wore no panties, exploring her now hairless vagina was easy…

Two, thick lips, dripping and hungry surrounded a clitoris the size of a quarter, it seemed.  The nether lips of Allison’s cunt resembled a flower, ready to bloom and swallow any fly that landed in its trap.

Continuing down, Allison took in her new, stocking-clad legs… hairless underneath like the rest of her body, they seemed to go on forever, ending at the soles of her 7-inch mules.

“Ahh, and let’s not forget the kicker.” said Melvin.  Reaching up to the collar of Allison’s baby doll nighty, Melvin pulled the ruffled lace down just far enough so that she could make out a steel collar painted white and layered in pink lace.  The words “Cupcake – Property of Melvin Cobbler.  Please Return if Found!”

Allison was numbed by this new discovery.  But a new shock overtook her a second later… Allison couldn’t read any of the words on the collar.


“An airhead, you see?” said Melvin.

Cupcake stared into the man’s watery eyes.  Watery from age, while Cupcake’s were watery from the dawning realization that her life would never be the same.  For the past hour, Melvin had been explaining to her all that had transpired the past month in the labs and rooms of Cherish Med.  And he had just gotten to the part she had feared most: Allison’s new IQ was less than half her old one.

Why was he telling Cupcake?  Why should she know?

The answer was simple: this was Melvin’s little game.  Standard procedure in Cherish Valley was what they called a “clean sweep.”  Once that was achieved, the female subject was then brainwashed and mentally geared through hypnosis and repeated zoning to be “prepared” and readied for her new life.  Like a new puppy, trained and eager to please, the wives of Cherish left the medical center with a renewed vigor and urge to please their men.  They knew all that was expected of them and all the men had to do was sit back and enjoy the show… as their wives became housemaids, mothers, and sluts all in one.

It was Cherish Valley’s secrecy, excellent economy, and remote location that kept it alive for so many decades.  They had only had one occasion of a “leakage” when a family had escaped a few years back.  But the wife had returned, and the husband and two kids had been “done away with.”

Hell, Cherish had their own political board.  Their own police force.  They even had their own cable broadcasting (specifically tailored for subliminal hypnosis, of course).  It was a town of upstanding morals and righteous ideals and beliefs.  A throwback to the innocent days of the 1950s when America was young and hungry.  Kids were raised right in Cherish.  A girl’s Sweet Sixteen became the threshold to a new life of servitude and pleasure.  Those born in Cherish knew this.  They aspired to it.

Conformity was their release.

Individuality was to be feared… and repressed at all costs.  The town came first, the men came second.  The women never came.  They just served.

But Melvin knew all of this was bullshit.  Well, maybe all of it accept that last part.  People like Gruber knew too.  It was the elders.  The men on the town board.  The Association and all their preaching and “good moral fiber” that made things so archaic around town.  The women had no say in it, since, in a way, they epitomized it.

You see, the women of Cherish weren’t trashy sluts.  No way.  It would not be allowed.

Rather, the fashion of the town would best be described as June Cleaver meets Pamela Anderson.  Bright, pastel colors greeted kid gloves and satin clad dresses which ended just below the pussy lips.  The style of Cherish was a contradiction in terms.  The colors and fabrics suggested virginity… yet the heart-shaped holes cut into the asses of a more popular, designer skirt immediately reminded you that you were in some sort of perverted, male utopia.

And even better, the skirts came that way from the store.

Melvin didn’t want a trashy slut.  He could travel up to Los Angeles and get that in a strip club.  He wanted the contradiction.  He lived for it.  Cupcake was to become his new wife.  His new daughter.  His new bimbo… all in one.  And he liked her pink, brainless, and pretty.  His very own Barbie Doll to play with, dress up and fuck silly.

The idea of the strong, feminine women was a joke to him.  In Cherish, the term “Career Girl” meant waitress.  The word “bimbo” meant “female.”  And Melvin had no problem with that ideal at all.

But was he to strive to become like those men on the town board?  The ones who led their new trophy wives to restaurants on an invisible leash?


But his toy wouldn’t be fitting the mold of the common Cherish female.  Sure, custom jobs were becoming very popular these days.  It had become common to see a man leading a wife out of the town mall with a perfectly, normal “Cherish frame.”  Only her lips would resemble a donut.  A line of drool collecting on a bib she wore around her neck.  She’d have to spend the rest of her life eating and drinking through a straw.

And to her, it would seem as if this was how she was meant to be.

Well, Melvin didn’t want a wife with a donut for a mouth.  No, his custom job was something different all together.  And he had to pay Gruber a hefty amount more than the agreed fee to oblige.

His wish was that Cupcake wouldn’t be a clean slate like the others.  Rather, she would hate Melvin.  She would know something was wrong.  That her body was not meant to be like this.  That she was not meant to be here, in Cherish.

Yet she would be powerless to stop it.  A simple, “No” would have her sitting submissively, a smile on her pretty face and an agonizing scream of “Why???” echoing through her empty little head.

Since her “teeth” had been inserted back into her mouth.  Allison found she could talk again.  She had said little since first waking up, and it was still very difficult to get used to the new way she spoke.

“But, like– why, have you like– ummm… done this to Cupcake?”

“No reason.  It was my time.  Do you know how long I was on the “Stray Waiting List?  Two years.  Two years I prepared this house.  Prepared your wardrobe.  I didn’t care who they picked up.  I just knew that after all the surgery, she would be mine.  My little Cupcake to have and fuck.  It was just good timing when you came along.  Most Strays don’t end up as wives.  They get implanted and enhanced and then sent off to work as maids, waitresses and secretaries.  But Gina, my wife, was one of the first women to die of natural causes in Cherish.  She took sick many years ago, and her condition only got worse.  So my only option was to put my name down on the waiting list.  And here you are.”

“But like– why did you, like– make Cupcake ummm… stupid?” asked Allison in a lispy, high-pitched, little girl voice.

“Because most women are stupid already, silly girl.”  Tapping Cupcake’s button nose, Melvin said, “But I like them really stupid.  Which is why you’re going to recover from all of this “trauma” very quickly.  Not because you’re a strong, resilient young woman.  Rather, because you’ll be too dumb to remember everything we just talked about.”

Folding her arms like a little girl who hasn’t gotten the doll she wanted on Christmas morning, Allison shook her head No. And then she said, “Cupcake like– won’t forget.  She won’t.”  Pouting and clenching her eyes shut, Melvin observed the face of the stubborn slut before him.

“Ahh, but you’re doing exactly what they programmed you to do.  I wanted you this way…. fighting me every inch of the way.  Sure, they’ll be days where you’ll find yourself giggling like a horny cheerleader in heat at the site of a balloon rising into the air… and I’ll let you have those days.  It’ll be a false happiness.  The happiness of an airhead.  Which is just what you are.  But most of your days will be spent begging me not to fuck your ass again and then cum in your mouth.  Most of your mornings will be spent awakening next to my bed with a dog leash attached to your collar.  Dried tears on your cheeks.  They’ll be times where you spend the whole day cleaning the house with all of your orifices filled.  They’ll be nights where you go to sleep with my cock in your mouth and wake up with a mouth full of sticky, hot cum.”

With a mounting horror, Allison took in all that Melvin said.  She made a promise to herself in that very second that she would indeed, fight him every step of the way.  That she would escape from this accursed town and regain her dreams.  That she would live a normal life and grasp and hold on to her dwindling intelligence.

And then Melvin lifted the girl from his lap and set her down on her knees.  The ruffled hem line of the pink baby doll nighty collected over the wet, fat lips of Allison’s new cunt.

“Stay!” commanded Melvin.

And like a good little girl, Cupcake could only stare, her pink mouth permanently open in a little “o” as Melvin undid his fly and pulled down his old man’s pants to reveal a sweaty, flaccid cock, hanging limply in-between his hairy crotch.

Licking his lips anxiously, Melvin said, “Now be Daddy’s little girl and suck me dry, Cupcake.”

And like the good little bimbo she was, Cupcake Coddler smiled, pointed at Melvin’s cock and said, “Pretty!!!”  Breaking down into a giggling fit, she placed her manicured fingers on Melvin’s unit and licked the wet tip of his cock until he grew hard in her face.  Then her fat, pink, collagen lips opened into a bigger “o” and she removed her “teeth” from her mouth and replaced them with the length of Melvin’s stubby penis.  In, in, further in, it touched the back of her throat and she began to chortle on its girth, a line of drool dripping from her pink lips.

Not being able to take it anymore, Melvin seized the sides of the curly-haired Barbie Doll before him and RAMMED his cock down Cupcake’s throat.  Cupcake could only hold on to Melvin’s thighs as he fucked her face, back and forth, up and down, side to side until finally exploding with a sea of hot, sticky cum, which layered the length of her throat.

Panting for breath, Melvin reached down and petted the head of his new bimbo, asking, “Now, what does Cupcake say?”

Swallowing it all, Cupcake said, “Thank you, Daddy.”

Continued in Chapter 3, “In The Pink”…

If you liked this second chapter of my story, “Becoming Cupcake,” let me know.  I have more planned for Allison where her transformation into Cupcake will continue and grow worse for her.  But I’d like some feedback on what I’ve typed so far. So email me at  I listened to all the nice emails that were sent to me and purposely made this second chapter a lot more hardcore.  Trust me, it will get worse for Cupcake before it gets better.  Who am I kidding, it will never get better.  She’s in Cherish Valley.

Later – The Mayor

Chapter Three – In The Pink

Monday morning, two days after her “awakening” in Cherish Valley, Cupcake stood in Melvin’s kitchen, ready for her first real day as the new Mrs. Coddler.  She stood, a vision a pink… a sexual contradiction by display.

A pink, mini Alice in Wonderland dress adorned her new frame.  Modified for an adult (or a teen), the dress was a pink satin frock, with white lace trim.  It began at her neck, just below her steel collar and stretched tight down her shoulders towards puffy, lacey sleeves ending just above her elbow.

Over her 34E breast-line, a heart-shaped opening with white lace trim was cut out of the fabric of the dress.  Done very professionally and with an eye for tease, the heart-shaped hole opened up only enough to reveal the tight crevice of Cupcake’s massive new tits.  Two cream colored breasts that strained against the satin surface, but were not allowed to squeeze through the window of the dress… only peak and wink at the observer… with nipples the size of a fingertip.

Underneath the dress, the breasts were needlessly lifted and held up at the crown of a Victorian style corset which ran all the way down to the beginning mound of Cupcake’s new ass.  Laced with whale bone, the corset further ground Cupcake’s 18 inch waist into a 16 inch hourglass and emphasized her hips even further… giving her ass the look as if it existed in its own zip code.  Melvin had taken great pleasure in setting his alarm an hour earlier that day, just so he could take his time lacing the slut into the prison of the corset… making sure to keep it in place with a tiny padlock which vanished under the satin at the base of the corset.

On the outside, a dainty, white, lacey apron was tied around her microscopic waist, disappearing at the back of the dress under a huge, stiff, pink bow that rested above Cupcake’s bubble but.

Underneath the stiff petticoats that rose the tiny hem of her dress almost horizontally at her sides, Cupcake wore a special thong which housed two battery operated dildos.  Dildos which rested safe and snug… one deep in her ass… the other, deep in her cunt.  Walking around with these busy vibrators engorged in both her ends felt like riding a horse that was constantly hurdling fences.

On her waist, above the pretty little thong, a garter belt suspended the tops of two white stockings which encased Cupcake’s legs… making them seem almost doll like in their creamy whiteness.  Furthermore, the fasteners of the garters were clearly visible under the puffy hemline which ended an inch above the base of her pussy lips.  And at each buckle, which held the stockings, a pink satin bow was adorned.

Staring down at her dress, Cupcake felt like a Christmas present for some little girl.  A life-sized Barbie Doll…. pink, lace ribbons and all.

Pink, patent leather ballet heels assured that Cupcake would be walking on tippy toes all day long like a pretty ballerina.  Even if her mind would allow her, Cupcake could not remove the sky-high heels, for they were padlocked on as well under the satin ribbons of the spaghetti straps which laced around her ankles.

White gloves, made of an expensive kid, were fastened over the palms of her hands by a tiny, heart-shaped button on the cuff.  The gloves were so tight, that Cupcake’s exposed fingers felt as if they were cut off from the rest of her hand.

Her make-up was impeccable.  Staring at herself in the mirror, Cupcake was amazed that she had known exactly what to do with all the different foundations, enhancers and glosses.  While her dwindling intelligence no longer allowed her the skills to figure out how to read a hand-clock, in little under thirty minutes, Cupcake had perfectly sculpted her face to that of a porcelain doll’s.

Starting with a white, creamy foundation, Cupcake had layered her face and neck.  Next, pink rouge dusted her cheekbones, making them appear even higher than they had already been lifted.  Her thin, arching lashes rose above two round, blue eyes, bathed in pink and black liner and surrounded up and down by long, batting lashes swathed in mascara.  A thick, pink, glossy coating was applied to her puffy, new lips.  And then two more coats were added on for longer lasting and a more “wet and hungry” look.  Either way, the strict rule of thumb, which all Cherish women had programmed into them, was that make-up was to be checked and re-applied at the head of every hour.

When completed, Cupcake’s new lips resembled a hungry, wet vagina on her face with a color that could practically glow pink in the dark.  The severity of the collagen had fattened her lips into a permanent “o” so that they were unable to close completely.  This gave her the look of silly school girl… lost and confused by all the complicating things around her.  And the fact that her eyes were as big and as round as a doll’s now, didn’t exactly help either. Try as she might, Cupcake saw a stupid, cutesy, airheaded girl staring back at her whenever she looked in the mirror.

Her platinum blonde hair, corkscrewed into French curls, cascaded down around her shoulders, resting on the twin mounds of her 34E tits.  The final pink bow rested high on top of her curly head… the words “Bimbo Slut” embroided on its fabric.

Bowing her head in shame and sorrow, Cupcake instinctively began sucking on the rubber dildo in her mouth… locked safely in place behind the guise of her dentured teeth, and began to remember… with her foggy new mind, the horrors of her first weekend with Melvin.


It began with a new wardrobe. It was on that Saturday morning that Cupcake was led from the shower, where she was scolded for attempting to use mouth wash to remove the taste of Melvin’s seed from her mouth.  After watching her skillfully apply her face, Melvin led Cupcake into her new walk-in closet.

While Melvin was no fashion designer… he did have a great imagination.  And in a town like Cherish Valley… where women are mere Barbie Dolls and eye candy for the men, all you have to do is follow your fetish, and you’re sure to find the outfit that matches it.

Therefore, Cupcake’s new wardrobe was broken up into many categories.  Starting with a selection of clothes that seemed tailored for a four year old girl living in Victorian England, Cupcake beheld an entire collection of little girl Alice in Wonderland dresses.  Microscopic waistlines; puffy, billowing petticoats that lifted the hemlines of skirts that wouldn’t even reach the middle of her thighs; lacey, satin frocks; small, cute aprons; large, stiff bows; soft, gentle ribbons… The collection resembled a pedophile’s wet dream.   Any grown woman forced to put on such dresses was soon reduced to a cutesy, little baby doll of a girl.   And to match the assortment of bright dresses, Melvin opened two draws below the hanging clothes that were filled with creamy, white stockings, garter belts, chokers, frilly ribbons and bows, dainty gloves, and a collection of Mary Jane shoes… each with a ballet-sized heel… each made in a bright, patent leather.

Moving on, Cupcake was led, to an assortment of rubber clothing.  Latex, PVC and straight rubber outfits littered the corner of the closet.  With a mounting dumbness to her expression, Cupcake stared on as Melvin produced cat suits, micro-minis, full-body suits, halter tops, and the occasional pair of pants, hobble skirts, and cut-out tops.  The outfits were accompanied by a different type of heel: open-toed platform mules with 6 inch heels were lined up under the rubber outfits.  Although this assortment of clothing came in pastel colors just as bright as the first… the heels were a little more racy.  Darker shades of pink, lavender, blue, yellow, orange and white were the colors here.  And a few pairs seemed to have no color at all, and were clear.

Cupcake was next hauled to a collection of uniforms.  While the majority of the uniforms seemed to be French Maid outfits… these were not your ordinary maid’s outfits that you’d find in a Halloween store.  Rather, each outfit had a severe, hourglass waist and the proper cut-outs in the ass and breast-line area.  The fabrics of the maid’s outfits ranged from latex, to rubber, to vinyl, to satin, to cotton…

As the hour pushed on, Cupcake was introduced to all sorts of different outfits.  Tops that had names stenciled in them.  And since Cupcake could no longer read, she found herself listening, with a mounting horror, as Melvin read the names of some of the shirts, “Barbie Girl;  Barbie Slut; Fuck Doll; Airhead; Bimbo; Bimbo Slut; Tits; Property of Melvin; Cum Deposit; Cunt etc.”

Cupcake was also introduced to a variety of toys and bondage gear.  From a huge assortment of plug gags which included binky gags, ball gags, dildo gags, ring gags to an assortment of dildos ranging from anal plugs to a 12 inch black dildo which Melvin teased Cupcake with by forcing her to lick it like a lollipop for the rest of the tour.

Speaking of lollipops… Melvin supplied Cupcake with an assortment of candy that she was expected to enjoy.  Starting with cum-flavored lollipops shaped as long, fat cocks (which could be purchased at any candy store in the front rack) Cupcake was also expected to chew gum all the time.  She was also encouraged to blow big bubbles and pop them all over her mouth.  While Melvin didn’t have to urge these ideas… he liked to remind Cupcake of what she had become.


Click, click, click…

Cupcake moved across the kitchen floor, mopping up Melvin’s piss puddle.  The old man leaned in the threshold of the kitchen door, admiring the dumb blonde as she eagerly mopped up his urine.

Now for another test.

”Stop.”  said Melvin.

Cupcake stood at attention, legs together at the knees, gloved hands tightly fixed around the pole of the mop, head bowed in submission.

“Lick the rest up with your tongue.” said Melvin.

A faint glimmer of hope… hope that he couldn’t possibly be serious… passed through Cupcake’s blue eyes.  “Yes, Daddy,” and then she nodded and gently leaned the mop against the counter, got down on two stockinged knees, and placed her palms on the tiled floor.

Crawling like a puppy over to the puddle of yellow piss, Cupcake lapped it up and drank it down.  Stopping at the halfway point, the young slut pulled some defense from her gut and glanced up at Melvin… piss dripping from her lips… hoping that it was enough.

”All of it, fuckdoll.”

Cupcake got back to licking up the piss like a good little girl.  Melvin watched her heart-shaped ass, perked up into the sky like a cushioned seat, as she moved around the floor to finish the task appointed her.

This was still Saturday morning, following the wardrobe tour… only hours from that dreadful moment that she had drank a very different liquid from this old man’s cock.  That moment afterwards where she had uttered that dreadful statement of submission and defeat…

Thank you, Daddy.

 From that moment on… to this moment now… from every moment for the rest of that fateful weekend… Cupcake learned, in fast and harsh order, what her new place in life was to be.

The tour of the house had ended here… in the kitchen, where Melvin had revealed Cupcake’s new “diet” to her.  Opening the fridge, the young teen was greeted by glass bottles of milk, frothing at the surface like a “Fribble” from Friendlys.

It took one sample of the drink to realize that it was not a milk shake at all… but cum.  Melvin’s cum.  Over two year’s supply, saved and stored safely in the kitchen freezer.  If Cupcake was still smart, she would’ve expected something like this… having been told earlier by the old man that his former job, before spending his retirement on the golf course, was working as a doctor at sperm bank.  So who knows what other men’s seeds were among Melvin’s collection in the basement freezer.

Either way, it was in that moment that Cupcake learned that piss and cum were going to be the only drinks she was ever allowed to imbibe for the rest of her life.  Melvin chided the dim-witted girl that she’d be tasting a large assortment of the men in Cherish… without ever having to meet them.

But the new diet didn’t end there.  Melvin’s cum would find a way into all her meals as well.  From “cum stew” to “cum condiments” to “cum oatmeal.”  Even the new cuisine of Gerber baby food that would be enforced on her toothless, modified mouth included a healthy dosage of Melvin’s spunk.

Melvin had no problem admitting that the idea of Cupcake, forever swallowing his seed on a daily basis, turned him on to no end.  He even took the liberty of pumping his cum into all her face creams.  Even Cupcake’s shampoo, her Lubriderm skin conditioning, her toothpaste! received a healthy dose of the creamy white seed.

But Melvin always needed to take things one step further.  Which is why piss and shit would be included as Cupcake’s new “deserts.”  Starting with that Saturday morning sipping… Cupcake would forever be subjected to plates of Melvin’s feces and glasses of his urine.

Sure, he would switch it up every now and then.  I mean, what man would want to constantly live in fear that the mouth he kissed everyday tasted like piss and shit?  And so Melvin planned on timing these ordeals.  While Cupcake would be expected to taste cum all day long, Melvin made it firm that shit and piss were to be mouth-washed away before placing her pink lips to her Master’s.

Ohhh, but having a human piss deposit had so many benefits.  What man would get out of bed in the middle of the night to piss when the hungry, pink, female mouth at the tip of his cock served as a perfect substitute.  And so it was, that as Cupcake lay under the covers that first Saturday night, her head strapped tightly to Melvin’s crotch, with the length of his sweaty cock resting deep in her mouth… that she suddenly awoke (as if finding any sleep in this position was at all possible) to a steady torrent of piss flowing down her mouth.  Her natural reaction was to retch and gag… even with her arms fastened behind her back in a severe one-armed-glove.

But Melvin, peeking down at the bobbing head under his covers, just firmly planted his wrinkled palm at the top of the curly-haired bimbo and forced her still.  As Melvin pictured what little thought, yet large repulsion, must be going on in his new wife’s brain, his cock grew stiff in her mouth, making the piss come out slower… dragging the ordeal out longer.

Under the covers, Cupcake lay in tearful shock as Melvin continued to drain his bladder into her unwilling stomach.


But it didn’t end there… ohh, no… not by a long shot.

The tour of Melvin’s house had revealed a plethora of new discoveries that would serve as the basis and backbone of Cupcake’s new role in life.  Since Cupcake had not yet seen the outside of Melvin’s house, she had no idea how big it was.

Not until Melvin led her by dog leash through every room.  And Melvin had rooms for every fetish engrained in him… or every fetish he was still willing to try.

From the rubber baby wonderland… where Cupcake would be expected to sleep in a pink, steel crib, locked on top… to the diaper changing table… to the closet of baby doll dresses…

From the pink, wall-papered playroom adorned with a “spanking horse;” dildo-prodded display pole; dental chair; torture rack; and human cage…

From the Victorian style dining room; with a proper hole cut into the center of the table, which Melvin informed her, would be where her head would stick out on the nights Melvin decided to have guests; with the high, padded, baby high-chair that stood at the end of the table.

While Cupcake had spent Saturday night dinner slurping orange, mashed baby food from a dog dish on the floor at Melvin’s feet… Sunday night had been a horror show on its own.

Supper began with Melvin eating a wonderful French casserole that Cupcake had spent hours cooking.  At his crotch, Cupcake knelt under the table, eagerly slurping his purple-headed cock.  Melvin had given strict instructions that she was not allowed to let him cum until he said so.  And furthermore… that she was to keep the cum in her mouth afterwards.

And so, when Cupcake heard the words, “Now, Cupcake” she gave it her finale… and was greeted by a load of thick, sticky cum.  Pulling her glossy lips from Melvin’s cock with a wet “Slyuuuuush” sound… Cupcake rested on her haunches as Melvin backed the mahogany chair away from the table.

Seizing her leash, Melvin led Cupcake across the room on hands and knees.  Lifting her like the silly little girl she had become, the old man rested the teenager into the confines of a pink padded, metal high chair and removed her dog leash.  Before Cupcake knew what was going on, Melvin slammed the tray before her into her chest, cramming her tits into pancakes and locking her elbows at her sides.

With a “click” the tray locked into place, and Cupcake could only wiggle her dainty hands, which now rested over her thighs… useless.  Melvin then strapped her ankles into the legs of the chair.  Turning a crank at the chair’s side… Cupcake felt two dildos rise from the seat of the cushion below her ass… slowly, they penetrated her ass and cunt with each crank of the dial, until eight inches packed her pussy and six fed her ass.

Staring at Melvin with scared, confused eyes, Melvin smirked at the stupid look on the teen’s face.  Still keeping his spunk in her mouth, Cupcake’s lips puckered out into a pretty pink flower… as if she was a fish trying to kiss the glass of its bowl.

Already a bead of cum was beginning to appear at the center of those fat, collagen-enhanced lips as Cupcake began to panic… fearing she might swallow the load if—

And then Melvin placed a bowl of yellow mush on the tray before her.  Some sort of baby food purified and mixed with God’s knows what.

“Release the cum into the bowl, Cupcake.”

Cupcake, unable to lean forward due to the upright position that the tray locked her in, could only cock her chin down and squirt the load of cum, like a fountain, into the yellow substance of the food.  Melvin took a napkin and tapped it at the corners of the girl’s lips, as Cupcake licked the inside of her toothless mouth.

Melvin then tied a bib around Cupcake’s neck and produced a large, wooden spoon, which he used to stir the cum into the yellow baby mush before her.  Like a white swirl, the cum soon vanished into the thick, smelly meal… and Cupcake was ready for her supper.

With a dawning realizing of horror, Cupcake met Melvin’s eyes, mouth opening to plea… but he just used the opportunity to ram a spoonful of the yellow mush into her reluctant mouth.

Immediate tears rushed down Cupcake’s face as she wretched and gagged on the horrible tasting mush… chortling as if she might vomit.

“There, there.  Baby must swallow it all down” Cooed Melvin.

And with a pinch to her button nose and a tilt to her empty head, Cupcake did.  Spoonful after spoonful went down her throat… until the bowl was empty and her bib was coated in the yellow mush.. which dried into a smelly, thick crust.

The meal lay in Cupcake’s stomach for a mere 5 minutes before the young girl threw it all back up.  Luckily, Melvin anticipated this and so it was that the old man had a bowl ready on the high-chair’s tray to collect every last drop of the vomit.

It took three more vomits of the same bile before Cupcake fainted… with a full load of regurgitated baby food in her tummy.


That Sunday night brought an end to Cupcake’s orientation.  And so it was, that at 10pm Cupcake sat on Melvin’s lap, dressed in a pink, baby doll nighty… a diaper strapped around her waist; pink booties and matching mittens on her hands and feet; rubber panties around her diaper and petticoats; and her hair done up in ribbons and curls.

Under the flouncing nighty, Cupcake wore the rigid, 16-inch corset, so that her 34E breasts were lifted upright, giving the vision of this darling baby girl, a sluttish twist.  Her pussy was packed snugly with a long, ribbed vibrator, ready to buzz all night long… making slumber close to impossible.

Melvin was dressed in his old man pajamas, and had his reading glasses on.  Before him, the entire dossier of Cupcake’s old life resting in his hand.

“Allison Anders was an 18 year girl with a high I.Q. and a creative, passionate mind that would drive her to seek avenues of her life that would lead to infinite happiness.”

Melvin read the dossier like her was reading a bed time story.

Cupcake listened on, a glimmer of foggy remembrance showed in her doll-like eyes at hearing the record of her past life.

“Allison was an independent woman.  A feminist.  An idealist.  She had dreams, hopes, goals… a future.” And with that last bit, Melvin closed the dossier, huffing to himself and then slowly smirking as he realized that Cupcake was staring at him… with begging eyes that could only mean she wanted to talk.

“Very well,” said Melvin.  “Open up, Cupcake.”

The blonde girl on the old man’s lap opened her pink lips and Melvin reached into her mouth, grabbing hold of the fused together set of teeth.  With a slight pull, they released from her mouth with a long “slurp” and a line of drool, which had collected on the length of the dildo.  Melvin used his sleeve to dry the dumb girl’s chin, where most of the saliva had ended up.

“Well, what do you have to say, Cupcake?”

Cupcake’s lips quivered… her eyes watered… and one single word came out.


Melvin seemed bored by the question.  “Is that why you made me remove your teeth?  To ask me why?”

Seeing that Melvin was ready to silence her again with the horrible dentures, Cupcake rushed a response, “Like, why did you like, ummm… do this… stuff to Cupcake?  Like… ummm, Cupcake was like, a—Cupcake was a good girl… umm… like, and she totally like, ummm—“

Melvin sighed.  “Get on with it.  I haven’t got all night to sit here and listen to you try and make sense.

Cupcake was really crying now… the words were so close… all that she wanted to say and express to this horrible old man who had robbed her of her independence… of her dreams… OF HER LIFE!!!

“Cupcake like… like, wanted to be like… ummm, like a singer girl… Cupcake had… she like, had these dream thingys… and she like, thinks—“

Melvin finally had to step in.  “Cupcake, do yourself a favor and don’t think so much.  It’s not good for a silly girl like you.  You, my dear Barbie Doll, are an airheaded bimbo.  So the only thing I want you thinking about is how you’re going to please Daddy Melvin.”  With that, Melvin tapped his finger, mockingly, against the side of Cupcake’s curly head.

Cupcake’s fat lips frowned into a pout.  Her face was now lined with tears and her cheeks had flared up red, giving her the appearance of a naughty baby.  “No… Cupcake is like… ummm… a smart girl.”

Ahhhh, why can’t I just say what I’m thinking???  Why can’t I think straight at all???  Why is it so fucking hard????

 “I’m not a dum dum.” was all that escaped from this tirade of inner turmoil, echoing through Cupcake’s empty head.

Melvin erupted into laughter at this response, shaking his head back and forth.  “Silly, silly girl.  If you must persist… I’ll prove it to you.”

“Huh?” said Cupcake.

Melvin reached across the floor and came back with a small doll, dressed almost exactly as Cupcake was now dressed.

In an instance, all the tears ceased and Cupcake reached out to embrace the pretty doll.

“Dolly!” squealed the young girl as Melvin handed over the doll.  Squeezing it to her chest, Cupcake was in heaven.

“Now that you’ve seen how silly and happy you can be in the strand of a few seconds… I’ll show you how scared and submissive you can be a second later.”

Cupcake looked up at Melvin, frightened, as he lifted her off his lap.  The doll dropped from her hands as Melvin suddenly forced her down over his lap, ass towards the ceiling, head towards the pink carpet.

It was close to an 15 minutes later when Melvin finished spanking the bubble ass of his new wife, and Cupcake was reduced to a whimpering baby with a sore behind.

Hours later, Cupcake lay, locked in her crib… binky gag securely inserted in her new mouth… the night’s dinner wastes resting in her diaper… and the vibrator buzzing merrily in her cunt.

The first weekend was over… the first week was about to begin.

Continued in Chapter 4, “Walking The Dog”…

 If you liked this third chapter of my story, “Becoming Cupcake,” let me know.  I have more planned for Allison where her transformation into Cupcake will continue and grow worse for her.  But I’d like some feedback on what I’ve typed so far.  So email me at  Hope you’re enjoying this story so far.  The fan mail has been very instrumental in providing me a direction on where to take this story.  Which is why I have created an account solely for the purpose of feedback from each story.  So PLEASE email me if you like where I’m taking the story.  I can always use more encouragement.

 Later – The Mayor

Parts 4-7

4 thoughts on “Becoming Cupcake: Parts 1-3

  1. I thought this story was really beautiful if not really scary and harrowing. My heart sunk when I seen that there was no chapter 4.

    Is there no chance of more of Cupcakes story being told? There is so much potential in the town itself to see other women falling into its clutches.

    Lovely story.


    • I have all the chapters (that were written – it never really ends) and will post when I get a moment. It is a good story, although I feel the quality decreases with the later chapters.


      • Those were lost when the group went down? That’s really sad if that’s what happened. Do you have more of those stories?

        I’d love to read more when you get a moment. The idea of a community like that fascinates me. Especially if others wrote stories based in that concept.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s