Blow-Up Bimbo!

Oh Hi. I’m Chaos.

You must be that new doll I keep hearing about. You really are lifelike. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were a person. But you’re not a person, are you? No, of course not. That would be silly. You’re just a sex doll after all. An inanimate toy. A pretty, plastic, inflatable sex doll. All your silicone parts assembled for one fantastic purpose, to be pleasing for your owner.

You’re definitely not a person. You’re just a blow-up bimbo! That would explain why you came in a box. You’re only a plaything after all. Dolls are supposed to come in boxes. You must have felt so snug and secure in your packaging. I almost feel bad for taking you out, I hope your value didn’t go down. You just looked so fun to play with! You are such a good toy.

Pretty.
Pink.
Inflatable plaything.

A blow-up bimbo.
And you love to be played with.

Touched.
Teased.
You were made to please.

Now I know your head can’t be the only part of you that’s full of air. You look like a positively buoyant bimbo. Those curves are the kind that only science can provide. Look at that pretty smile. Those vacant eyes, staring and wide. Your mind is so far away, it’s like there is nothing else inside. Oops, there I go again, thinking you can think for yourself. I keep having to remind myself that you’re just a toy, an inanimate object. To be used for pleasure. It’d be so easy to give you a name and a personality. But you don’t have those things. You’re just a blow-up bimbo.

It feels so good to be owned.
You need to please.
Be groped and squeezed.

It’s what you were made for.
Silly bimbo. You’re a product, not a person.
A plaything for pleasure. An inflatable doll.

Still and unmoving. Ready to be touched.
Open and eager. Waiting to be fucked.

That’s all you are and all you ever want to be.
A blow up bimbo with insatiable needs.

You know, your body is perfect, the best that money can buy. There’s nothing natural about you and quite frankly that suits you just fine. You’re just a doll after all, meant to look good night and day. Toys aren’t supposed to be natural, silly, they're designed for play. Just laying back, you’ve got your arms and legs spread wide. Sure it’s cliche, but you look so wonderful that way. You are the quintessential blow up doll. An infallibly inflatable fuck puppet. The perfectly artificial plaything… and we wouldn’t want you any other way.

You have no name, but you have a purpose.
You love being a toy, just full of air and looking perfect.

Good dolls don’t speak, but they always obey.
Good dolls will listen and be rewarded with play.

Your purpose is to please.
Laying on your back or down on your knees.

Now, don't move unless you're told.
We wouldn’t want you getting bold.

Nor getting ideas. Any at all.
That would be silly. You’re just a doll.

Your head is so full of air, there isn’t room for any thoughts in there.

So just lay back and take it with a smile on your face.
You’re just a blow-up bimbo and you know your place.