Dr. Gizmo checks the data on his instruments. All the readings are perfect. Flexi and Witchgirl have completely embraced their programming. Their bodies have stabilized. They are now no longer who they once were; they are now Trudy, otherwise known as Mommy Gizmo, and Jenny, otherwise known as Cheerleader Gizmo. “Digitron,” he says. “Download my family.”
Mommy Gizmo and Jenny Gizmo appear in the center of the room, Mommy Gizmo teetering on her 5 inch heels. Jenny Gizmo smiles and sighs deeply. Her new body feels absolutely great!
“Thank you, dear.” Mommy Gizmo says to her husband. “It’s so nice to have our family back together again!”
Jenny Gizmo looks down at herself. “Thanks for the great redesign, dad! I especially like what you did with my tits.”
“Jenny!” Mommy Gizmo says. “Nice girls don’t use the word ‘tits’!”
Dr. Gizmo grins. Jenny Gizmo smiles slyly. “Sorry, mom.” She turns back to Dr. Gizmo. “My breasts. I like what you did with my breasts.”
Ami, the token overachieving, Asian High School senior, has found out she’s been made redundant. Now, her class gets to decide what niche she should fill.
Disclaimer: This is not my story. Check out my earlier post for an explanation and where to find more by this author.
Ami had everything figured out.
Having the brains and talent that she did, Ami didn’t have to worry. Sure, she was stuck as a high school senior for now, but as soon as that was out of the way, Ami had plans. She knew business school would be a breeze. After she finished that up, she planned to jump right to the top of a big company. Ami wanted to take control of some struggling company and show everyone just how serious she was. She’d be the most revered Japanese-American business woman on the planet. She’d make millions, smile on business magazine covers, and be loved over the world.
Having such ambition in high school can really be frustrating. Of course, Ami did her best to always appear ahead of her class and her age. She didn’t wear the normal high school attire. In fact, she looked down on the simple, immature appearance of most of her classmates. Ami preferred to wear her power suits to school. If she didn’t look so young, one would assume she was a thirty year old business woman. And, as long as people kept making that assumption, Ami was doing everything right.
The problem with being so mature and talented in high school is not being favored by the rest of the class. Being prettier and much smarter than most of the school—including the faculty—created a very defensive attitude towards Ami by the rest of the school. Ami wasn’t deliberately cruel. She just didn’t associate herself with anyone dumber than her. She just didn’t have the time. Ami was a harder working girl, and such hard work can give the impression of arrogance and superiority.
Ami’s nickname was the Ice Queen.
When it wasn’t Ice Queen, it was usually just “bitch”.
These names didn’t bother Ami though. She didn’t have time to let them bother her.
The afternoon that changed all of Ami’s plans was on a Friday. The bell was ringing through the halls, sending all the students to their lockers. Ami walked through the murmuring crowd of students, ready to go home. As Ami walked through the halls, she noticed that she was being stared at quite a lot. Students at their locker would look up at her and then quickly look away when Ami made eye contract. What the hell’s going on?
Mr Grey’s classic story about having fun at the mall.
Mr. Grey stood at the entrance to his city’s local mall, watching as people filed past him to get inside and do whatever it is they plan to do. He received a few strange glances here and there, but no one really paid any attention to him. A long, grey trench coat was draped over him, which blew back in the wind. A pair of reflective sunglasses blanketed his eyes.
The reason he stood here is because he was preparing himself for the chaos he was about to wreak upon this unsuspecting, yet ordinary, building. Innocent civilians pushed their way through the crowds to consume anything and everything their hearts desired. Moments from now, though, they’ll wish they had stayed at home. Instead, they came here for clothes, food, CDs, DVDs, video games, toys… One swipe of a credit card and they could have it all.
This just seemed a little too boring.
Mr. Grey knew they needed little excitement to their world.
Finally, he entered through the heavy glass doors. The murmurings of the crowd filling his ears, he made his way through the busy food court. This mall was two stories tall: More room to pack more potential buyers, and more room to pack more people to cure Mr. Grey’s boredom.
Jordan tries out a new fashion app, but it seems to keep forcing them into problematic self-identities.
Jordan leaned back and looked at the app’s description.
Use the latest in AR tech to change your looks!
It was a beta, one that had popped up on the style blog Jordan frequented. Looked spammy as hell, but they were curious. It seemed to be getting rave reviews from the big bloggers, so they were willing to give it a shot.
WELCOME TO NeW U+2!
It bubbled across the screen in a sickeningly bright pink font.
Jordan clicked the CREATE THE NEW U button and was greeted with the first menu.
ARE YOU A…
Already, there was a red flag. There were only two choices.
BOY or GIRL
Jordan sighed. You couldn’t expect the world to change overnight, but it seemed like a pretty bullheaded move to force that right up front. They debated just quitting here, but… fuck it, gendered pronouns weren’t the end of the world.
The bubble around the text popped, and the screen flashed bright pink.
Jordan blinked. Something felt off, though she couldn’t place it.
STRAIGHT or BI or –
Ugh, the app had glitched out all the options. She could tell there were more text, but the UI had clipped it off. She fumbled around the screen, even exited and reloaded the app, but she was stuck with those two options.
At least they had her option. Jordan had sometimes called herself a lesbian for convenience, but what self respecting girl didn’t dream of some cock now and again?
What is your ethnicity?
Christ, the person who designed this FTUI really needed to sit down with their HR department. Seriously, asking for race?
Are you…WHITE or BLACK or HISPANIC or ASIAN
It wasn’t even a good list. Jordan sighed, she was three quarters Japanese and had always identified as mixed. But, what the hell… she clicked Asian.
Are you…SKINNY or CURVY
She glanced down at herself. Definitely not a skinny bitch. Curvy may have been a poetic licence, but it was more accurate.
Jordan was suddenly aware of how uncomfortable her outfit was. Everything seemed tight or loose. Her bra seemed way too small, but her pant waist at least a size too big. How had she not noticed it until now?
You are a…
CURVY BI ASIAN GIRL
Is this correct?
Jordan looked at the statement. She never would have said as much, but yeah, she supposed that felt… right.
User review by JordynXoXo:
i totally luv NewU2!! It super change me and it sooooo much fun ^_^meet lots fun guy and girl on message. They all really nice & cute ❤ & ok if you no speak english good.super recommend!!
It was the newest viral trend. “Ahgg-ing” the kids called it.
The basic premise was simple: get stupid enough that you reflexively made the ‘Ahgg’ face (‘ahego’ to the old timers).
At first, everyone was doing it. Celebrities, Instagram models, Twitch streamers. But then things started to escalate.
Soon, it wasn’t enough to pretend to be stupid. Now you needed to be truly be ‘Brain Drained’.
TMZ started running hit-pieces on celebrities caught ‘faking’ Ahgg faces. BuzzFeed made listicles on the best ways to actually, temporarily, reduce your IQ (#7 was sleep deprivation, #5 was pot, #2 was nitrous, #1 was edging with all of the above).
More feminist-forward sites like Jezebel wrote lengthy posts on how to responsibility Ahgg. The cover of Teen Vogue loudly declared “Brain Drain on your own terms!”.
A cottage industry popped up overnight of Ahgg ‘supplements’. They were everywhere. When a Kardashian backed brand launched (‘B1MBO2’) it sold out everywhere, from 7-11 to GNC.
At the end of the year heath experts started to raise concerns about how permanent the effects were. The FDA’s report on oxygen deprivation and permanent brain damage came too late.
By the time the public was aware of the long term impact of true Ahgg-ing, no one cared. All the major influencers, from Twitter to Snapchat, were mindless, giggling bimbos.
It was cool to get your brains literally fucked out on camera. Social media sites had to relax their content standards to stay relevant. Seven top ten posts on YouTube were girls going Full Bimbo, having their IQ points drained while orgasming. The most of them were the cocksucking method, but lesbian assisted ‘conversion’ was also popular.
In the end, this generation was left with millions of dumb, horny teens; unable to have a future beyond performing and fucking. There was some moral panic about the future of the country, but that quickly quieted down with the baby boom.
Soon, a new class of mother’s were everywhere. The original Ahgg-ing generation, raising the next wave of airheaded teens.
Now, we’re bracing for the Bimbo Boom, as the media has taken to calling it. Everyone’s speculating on what will happen to society, how norms and fashion will change.
Me? I’m just happy to have a near infinite pick of objectified sluts. In person, on TV and online, there’s no shortage of mindless girls to watch and use.
I can’t wait for my daughter’s ‘graduation’ this May. I know she and her friends will blow up the porn scene, just like her mother.
They’re already planning a ‘forced conversion’ series, with anti-bimbo resistance members fucked into submission. It’s all smoke and mirrors, with some consenting actress playing the victim, but I think it’s going to be big. She has a bright future ahead of her.
While investigating the appearance of zombies near a city power station, Witchgirl and Flexi have been captured by the mysterious Dr. Gizmo. Using a strange robotic creation named Digitron 5000, Dr. Gizmo has converted the two women into digital information. Witchgirl and Flexi now stand in a strange, featureless void, facing each other and wondering what will happen next.
“Witchgirl?” Flexi asked. “Are you all right?”
“Yes. I think so,” she answers, looking herself over. “And you?”
“I… I… I think so.”
“This is certainly strange. I have to admit I’m out of my element, technology actually gives me the willies sometimes, but we’ve beaten Gizmo before. We’ll find a way out of this.” She squeezes her hands into fists, testing the reality of her body. “I feel… solid… but different too.”
“I am SO sorry… I should have just had you run away. Now you’ve been caught and it’s my fault,” Flexi says.
Witchgirl looks back at Flexi. “It’s not your fault.”
“Yes it is! Dr. Gizmo was MY master… I should have stayed where I was.”
“It’s okay, Flexi. Remember how easily we defeated him before. “I’d say that in two hours we’ll be laughing about this whole thing.” Witchgirl points her finger at her. “And don’t ever let me hear you say that you should have stayed where you were. You’re place is with us.” Witchgirl smiles and winks.
Alright, now let’s not go crazy here. I agreed to do this for our anniversary, but remember the rules. You’re only allowed to change my looks. Want me to be a copy of Ariana Grande, or a look-alike for some girl you had a crush on in college? Or how about just a bimbofied version of myself? That’d be hot, right sweetie? Just don’t mess with my mind. I swear, if you do that…
It’d be like so freakin’ hot. Fer realz! *giggle*
Can you even imagine if I tried to say some smart girl stuff or whatever but instead I was like blah blah blah math is hard?
It’d be even funnier, too, cuz I don’t even look the part, ya know?
Like, ditzes are s’posed to have implants and mine are real.
JK! You bought these for me, Daddy!
I swear. Boys are always checking me out. And girls too! One time my friend Tiffany tried to grab up on me and I was like no way. I’m not gonna lez out with you.
Not unless my man is here to watch! So Daddy, when are you gonna change me?
I know what you’re doing. I know all about the remote.
I know that I didn’t used to be blonde, or wear lingerie all the time. I know that it didn’t used to turn me on when you called me a little dummy, and it didn’t make me cream my panties when I sucked your dick.
Change me all you want. I don’t care anymore.
Life sucked before this. My job was going nowhere. My dating life was awful.
At least I’m enjoying this, even if I know you’ve made me feel like I enjoy it.