u/DistraughtAndDelulu

A lot of us thought that our experience with the pandemic in 2020 would keep us safe. We thought that we were disciplined, well-trained, secure.

The first real outbreaks began in major metropolitan areas. A few working girls or clubgoers would come back home feeling a little hazy, a little dizzy, and they would try their best to sleep it off. But B1-MB0 isn't the kind of sickness you can sweat out in bed.

Over the following days their bodies would undergo massive changes. Previously small or saggy breasts would swell until they looked like brand new impants. Lips would puff into perfectly forced bimbo smiles. Asses would expand to the point where no regular pair of pants or slacks would cover them. The psychological effects (mental numbness, vapidity, time loss) made it so that the hosts didn't even care about their new bodies.

For some, this would mean big tips and life would go on. Those in sexwork or who already exhibited high libidos wouldn't notice much of a change aside from the level of enjoyment and desire they experienced. When it started passing on to women in more grounded professions, that's when it got to be truly dangerous...

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That's the plot! Of course, it's vague by design. You can bring me any f/f scenario and we can play out what would happen as the bimbo virus takes its toll on our characters. Mother/daughter, sisters, professors and their pupils, the first female President of the United States, anyone you like could fall victim and undergo a rapid and ravenous transformation.

Please have at least one character and dynamic in mind before you message me. If you have a MILF saved and want me to come up with a ref for her adult businesswoman daughter, that can be done, but I won't do the legwork to cover both.

The keyword here is Louboutin, if you'd like to get moved to the front of the line.

kinks: Whatever you bring to the table, your wish is my command as long as it's not in my limits!

Limits: Vore, illegal characters.

Your roommate, Vanessa, is a stereotypical goth.

Of course, she's also a grown woman. She teaches English at a local junior high. She exercises three times a week. She watches horror movies in the living room of your apartment and refuses to acknowledge how often she flinches.

Despite all of that, she puts a lot of effort into maintaining her mysterious, gothic personality. As a trans woman, she adheres to a high degree of femininity, but abhors anything pink, glitzy, coquette, bimbo, or girly-girl. She wants it to be known that she is a force to be reckoned with, regardless of her presentation.

Heavy makeup, dark clothes, loud and dreary music. Since before she moved in she has been cultivating a very specific kind of outward appearance: effortlessly competent and no-nonsense. She doesn't do relationships or interpersonal drama. She stays as far away from large social events as she can. No problem is too big for her, and when it's too big for someone else she steps in and fixes it for them without a word. She is a powerhouse of her own design.

As I'm sure you can guess, that's not ideal for you. It was nice for the first few months, but now whenever you fail to do something to her standards she gives you a cold side-eye while she fixes it in a single authoritative motion. Her constant and underhanded criticisms have worn away at your confidence. She judges your friends, your choices, your accolades. There is no end to her pursuit of perfection...

Except for just this once.

Another cold and rainy evening is tapping at your window when Vanessa strides into the room. She is perfectly made up, her tired eyes hazy under a mask of black eyeshadow. That little half-sneer is already playing at the corner of her pristine black lips as she sees a receipt on the floor of the kitchenette. And as she bends down to pick it up, some unseen force lifts the back of her skirt up just a little higher than she had anticipated.

And underneath, you can just barely make out the fabric of her pastel pink panties.

So that's the plot! I'm big on the sensuality inherent to intimacy, so the thought of playing a character whose only real goal is to keep others at an arm's length (and who fails that goal) makes my head spin.

Kinks: Manipulation, Humiliation, Switching, Vocal Partners, Musk or Scent Play, Kissing (from pecks to sloppy french kisses, the whole range), and many more. Don't be afraid to ask or request.

Limits: Use of slurs, vore, hyper, detransition, heavy toilet stuff.

DISCLAIMER: I am 18+ and all participants and characters must be 18+

Your roommate, Vanessa, is a stereotypical goth.

Of course, she's also a grown woman. She teaches English at a local junior high. She exercises three times a week. She watches horror movies in the living room of your apartment and refuses to acknowledge how often she flinches.

Despite all of that, she puts a lot of effort into maintaining her mysterious, gothic personality. As a trans woman, she adheres to a high degree of femininity, but abhors anything pink, glitzy, coquette, bimbo, or girly-girl. She wants it to be known that she is a force to be reckoned with, regardless of her presentation.

Heavy makeup, dark clothes, loud and dreary music. Since before she moved in she has been cultivating a very specific kind of outward appearance: effortlessly competent and no-nonsense. She doesn't do relationships or interpersonal drama. She stays as far away from large social events as she can. No problem is too big for her, and when it's too big for someone else she steps in and fixes it for them without a word. She is a powerhouse of her own design.

As I'm sure you can guess, that's not ideal for you. It was nice for the first few months, but now whenever you fail to do something to her standards she gives you a cold side-eye while she fixes it in a single authoritative motion. Her constant and underhanded criticisms have worn away at your confidence. She judges your friends, your choices, your accolades. There is no end to her pursuit of perfection...

Except for just this once.

Another cold and rainy evening is tapping at your window when Vanessa strides into the room. She is perfectly made up, her tired eyes hazy under a mask of black eyeshadow. That little half-sneer is already playing at the corner of her pristine black lips as she sees a receipt on the floor of the kitchenette. And as she bends down to pick it up, some unseen force lifts the back of her skirt up just a little higher than she had anticipated.

And underneath, you can just barely make out the fabric of her pastel pink panties.

So that's the plot! I'm big on the sensuality inherent to intimacy, so the thought of playing a character whose only real goal is to keep others at an arm's length (and who fails that goal) makes my head spin.

Kinks: Manipulation, Humiliation, Switching, Vocal Partners, Musk or Scent Play, Kissing (from pecks to sloppy french kisses, the whole range), and many more. Don't be afraid to ask or request.

Limits: Use of slurs, vore, hyper, detransition, heavy toilet stuff.