Losing Control Of My Body

I arrived backstage in a high state of agitation.

Alright, I was horny. It was impossible to concentrate. My skin felt hot. I could smell everybody. I was in heat. My overdeveloped bimbo body was reacting to everything, and it all felt good. I wanted more. My clothes felt restrictive. I wanted to be naked. I wanted to be on all fours watching in a mirror while somebody pounded me silly from behind. I was built for fucking. I wanted one long screaming orgasm, and then another.

And this was from someone who still had her brains.

There was no way...no way...that someone who had their brains dimmed by the bimbo throne would be able to go without sex. I was aroused to a degree I hadn't known possible. It wasn't just a vague want or desire; it was burning, driving need. The scary thing was it would be so easy to get. My body was so responsive to everything that giving was as stimulating as getting. Because of my lips, giving a blowjob would give me more orgasms that someone licking me. My clit was so responsive that the sensations from a strong wind would probably be enough to make me cum.