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“Now Valerie, you love to party.”
“What? But I don’t like partying...” You say, a bit confused. You were always quiet and introverted, always preferring small gatherings with your closest friends as opposed to parties. But you find that, at the moment, your usual distaste for parties is a bit dulled. You went to one the other day and it was fine...wait, did you?
“You love to party, and you do it a lot.”
“I love to party...and I do it...a l-l-lot...” you say, stammering at the end. Your memories begin to shift around and your personality is changed. What were you kidding; you LOVED parties and were always super outgoing. You were popular in high school because you were so hot and you went to so many then, and you are actually going to one right now (as you think that, your dress becomes a bit sexier and shorter).
“You’re a party-loving bimbo.”
“I’m a party-loving...bimbo? Wait...” you almost whisper, so unsure as your head begins to fog and your hair starts turning blonde. You aren’t a bimbo. You’re, like, really smart and...and...
“You are a party-loving bimbo, Valerie.”
“I’m, like...” you begin, your resistance fading. “A party loving bimbo!” Yes, you were! Your hair was straight and beach blonde (dyed that way), you are in a hot blue dress and heels going to the club, and you have a ton of makeup on! You’re a ditz who loves to get crazy and you wouldn’t mind some fucking thrown in as well, not smart and caring about much else but having fun.
The man is so excited!
“What? But I don’t like partying...” You say, a bit confused. You were always quiet and introverted, always preferring small gatherings with your closest friends as opposed to parties. But you find that, at the moment, your usual distaste for parties is a bit dulled. You went to one the other day and it was fine...wait, did you?
“You love to party, and you do it a lot.”
“I love to party...and I do it...a l-l-lot...” you say, stammering at the end. Your memories begin to shift around and your personality is changed. What were you kidding; you LOVED parties and were always super outgoing. You were popular in high school because you were so hot and you went to so many then, and you are actually going to one right now (as you think that, your dress becomes a bit sexier and shorter).
“You’re a party-loving bimbo.”
“I’m a party-loving...bimbo? Wait...” you almost whisper, so unsure as your head begins to fog and your hair starts turning blonde. You aren’t a bimbo. You’re, like, really smart and...and...
“You are a party-loving bimbo, Valerie.”
“I’m, like...” you begin, your resistance fading. “A party loving bimbo!” Yes, you were! Your hair was straight and beach blonde (dyed that way), you are in a hot blue dress and heels going to the club, and you have a ton of makeup on! You’re a ditz who loves to get crazy and you wouldn’t mind some fucking thrown in as well, not smart and caring about much else but having fun.
The man is so excited!
What now?
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