Ramblingcrow - Rambling Crow

Love this entirely!

The Other Assumption Game

Since “The Assumption Game” has been popular recently, here’s the mind control/bimbo version.  

Post this to your blog if you want messages with assumptions about you that are either true or false.  

You will respond to each of these messages that the assumption made about you is true.  And for exactly one hour after your response, that assumption will become true for you, and you will act accordingly.  

This carries a lot of what the bimbo trope is for me... The inadvertent flash - a sort of 'innocent' unintentional sexiness that is more ditz than slut. Of course, I'm not saying there's any problem with sluttiness in bimbos, nor that there can't more 'slut' in a bimbo. It's just that this sort of thing screams 'bimbo' to me..... 

Reading that back, I do write a lot of nonsense.

In Need of Editing

Ooh! I'd forgotten about this short one! I posted this at the MCStories.com forum in 2009. Much happier with this little piece. And it's not TG! Nope just pure, grade A (well, C- at least) bimboization. It may not be good, but it contains no traces of horse meat. Oh yeah. 2013 current affairs reference. Boyah.

In Need of Editing OK. Jen had definitely been fretting about this too much. Whilst she would definitely need a stellar CV to even get an interview with the prestigious firm of Wynd, Grey & Street, she really was more than capable. All she had needed to do was take a break from editing the thing, perhaps look at that relaxing screensaver that Paul from across the hall had installed for her, and then return to the document with fresh eyes. So far that had truly done the trick! Already, Jenny could see she had made some pretty amateur errors when it came to creating a perfect representation of herself and her accomplishments. For one thing, the entire section on her schooling was far too long winded. Who really needs to mention a college when one has gone onto higher education anyway? And alongside that, she could probably cut out the mention of a BSc from Cambridge altogether. The results from her school then looked a little out of place, though. All those ‘A’s. Far, far too repetitive. Now, removing some of the subjects she had studied and adding in some ‘D’s and ‘E’s made for far more colourful reading. Now, Jenni just had to attack that interests section. “…enjoy reading... poetry… interest in classical mythology” What was she thinking?! She wanted herself to come across in the text and all this did was make her seem some tedious shut-in! Now, “Interests in clothes… makeup… flirting….boys…”. That would make her seem far more vivac-, vicacio-… sexy. Finally, just a quick modification to her personal statement. Something totally like “I’m willing to do anything for this job. Anything.” And maybe a photo of her flashing her thong to the camera lens, instead of the usual boring ones the cute old guys at the firm must get. And done. Well, maybe the font could be made, like, pink and stuff.

Degree, history, re-write.

Raven knew that if she complained about her situation, everyone would scold her for it.  No-one needed to tell her how lucky she was to be working at a job like this, one where she was actually able to use her education.  She had an “understanding” with the head of the department that didn’t take up much of her time, and was not bothered by any other men while at work.

Yes, yes, practically a miracle for a woman with a Master’s in History to actually be working in the field of history, writing textbooks that millions of boys and girls would read.

But what she had to write … !

“While the men were distracted by the First World War, feminists were able to get foolish amendments added to the Constitution: to give women the right to vote and to establish Prohibition.  Only two amendments to the Constitution were written specifically to repeal earlier amendments … .

“When women were allowed to serve in Congress, they passed many stupid and destructive laws, but fortunately they never managed to pass the ultimate destroyer, the so-called “Equal Rights Amendment … .

“”No-one knows for certain what destroyed the space shuttles Challenger and Columbia, but there were women on the crews of each … .”

With each keystroke, Raven felt as though she were writing an indictment against herself as a traitor to her gender, and to her calling.  She wasn’t sure which was worse.

Always loved these t-shirts! So dumb, so humiliating, so bimbo!

Brilliant! And no, if I was trying to stump you I would say something like: pigtails, plastic, dumber.

Every time Barbara ties her pigtails with those plastic clips I gave her, she absorbs another dose of the drug that is making her dumber.

No, that’s much too easy.  I can do better than that.

Barbara didn’t actually mind putting her hair in pigtails.  Back when she was a market analyst, she had to wear the corporate uniform, including a high-maintenance ‘do.  She envied the technicians in the back rooms, who could dress as they please.

She was still forced to abide by a dress code, but it was actually less of a hassle, since it was basically the same outfit every time: sort of a Swiss dairy maid, hair in pigtails, smile and makeup mandatory.

She didn’t mind showing off her legs, or her cleavage.  “Eh, you deal with it,” she often said.  What did bother her were the platform heels of transparent plastic.  How the fuck did Mr. Bickford think they went with a minidirndl?  She never questioned it, she just wore them.

When she got to her desk, she found a package on her desk.  It proved to be a bizarre assortment of Japanese products, plus a “Golden Brown” membership card at The Sun Spot tanning salon, and a note stuck on the cover of a glossy pamphlet.  The note said Mr. Bickford wanted her to start wearing Ganguro makeup.

It was just about the only thing that could possibly have made her look dumber.

She was (once) an executive damnit, not some beach whore, how exactly was she supposed to get any work done dressed like this (she isn’t she’s the office joke) and how the hell did they expect her to get to work on time dressed like this? (They didn’t, her being consistently late was something to punish her over) They’d taken away her car and moved her into an apartment 6 blocks from the office (long enough so she’d get stares, wolf whistles and proposition’s, but short enough so taking the bus was pointless), she was constantly misstepping in her sky high heels with her boobs constantly threatening to spill out of her top.

And why the fuck did they make her take a Breathalyzer test every single morning and reprimand her (in a formal meeting) for not being drunk enough. (they wanted her work bad, and her ability to make good decisions reduced).

She thought about quiting, she really did. The problem was she owed a mountain of debt to the company that was increasing far quicker than she could even make the interest payments.

Amongst the things they were charging her for was:

- the down payment on the apartment

- the mortgage

-rent (though she was technically the landlord they’d forced her to sublet the apartment to herself meaning the $1200 a month she charged for the place was constantly going in and out of her bank account making it impossible for her to touch it)

- landlord services (they maintained the property and preformed room checks to ensure the tenant was keeping the property in good condition, failing in the check would result in a fine)

- A Cable package that only gave her access to fashion, shopping, gossip and porn channels (anything that might give her information on the wider world was banned, no news for her)

- the plastic surgery they’d recomended she get

- Theft prevention package (Security cameras in every room live streaming to the office but also running a program that recorded a highlight reel of all of her sexual exploits)

- Life insurance (The recipient not her family but the holder of the debt her company)

They gave several company credit cards, all with exorbitant interest rates (36% to 48%) for her to make all of her purchases on (only at company approved stores) which charged her an insane amount of money for the most basic of things ($12 for a a half Gallon of milk).

Worse still whilst the debt she owed on the credit cards had to be paid in US Dollars the credit cards automatically converted into Company scrip, vouchers only valid at the approved stores, if she went to anywhere not on the list her cards would always be declined.

The result being she was forced to eat, drink, read, watch and wear what they wanted, they had complete control over her money and she was never going to pay them back.

She was effectively an Indentured servant for the company with no hope of escape.

#Exec2Sec  #Social Demotion  #Submission  #Humiliation  #Stacking the Deck

If those new lips of yours are making it hard to get your message across, maybe try putting it somewhere people are bound to look.