Sue Storm Dreams of Being A Surgically-Augmented Bimbo

That night, Sue Storm stared long into the mirror. Karla's words haunted her. She pursed her lips, trying to imagine them with fillers. Pushed up her breasts in her hands, tried to see them as huge, heavy silicone implants. Were those the beginning of wrinkles at her eyes? Botox. Or a face lift.

The Invisible Woman frowned. She had seen women her age get "work" done. Sometimes the work was subtle, the results magnificent. Others were...more obvious. Surgically-enhanced bimbos, vacuous women who spent their lives between the gym and the beauty salon, creatures who had fucked their way to the top and filled their days with social media and pornographic exploits.

"Do I really want that?" Sue Storm asked her reflection, not sure she would like the answer.

She threw on an oversized t-shirt and climbed into bed. Tomorrow might bring a time-traveling conqueror, a gamma-mutated giant lizard, the Empire State Building might become sentient, Franklin might have another chocolate milk incident. Sue knew she needed her sleep.

Yet sleep was a long time coming. Her unquiet brain ran through Karla's words. Would Sue like to get a little work done? Did that mean she wanted Sue to get cosmetic surgery? What would Karla care if Sue had fat lips or big tits, a booty worthy of a Kardashian?

The answer came to her in dreams. A blonde dominatrix who **** her strap-on past her bimbo slut's plump cocksucking pillows. Who groped her fat, fake tits as she thrust hard and fast, breathing excited.

"Good slut," Karla's dream-self said as she fucked her bimbo sub. "Good girl. Who's my bimbo? Who is?"

I am, Sue Storm thought in her dream. I'm your bimbo. I'm your slut.

It wasn't enough to make Sue Storm schedule an appointment. Not yet. But it was a crack in her mental armor, her image of herself shifting. For the first time in her life, she wanted to look like a slut.

It was all the opening that Moonstone needed.