The Day You Became a Bimbo Clown (Patreon)

Everyone loves to laugh, though some more than others.

Like you, for example. It all started with a giggle.

There you were, going about your day when out of nowhere something innocuous made you laugh. You can’t explain it. You tried to resist the urge at first. You didn’t want to seem rude or disrespectful, but whatever it was, it was just so funny. It couldn’t hurt to let out just one innocent little giggle, could it? Of course it wouldn’t hurt, the world needs to lighten up.. And you just couldn’t stop yourself.

You felt your face flush red, maybe it was a little embarrassing, if only your makeup had been a little heavier, it could hide your blush. But in that moment, something happened deep inside you. You experienced the briefest glimpse of mindlessness. You just let go, you let yourself smile. You let out a jovial little laugh, a sweet vapid giggle to show your utter amusement at the situation… and everything just felt right.

But if we’re being honest, it didn’t stop there, did it?

No, soon after that incident it became an everyday thing. A chuckle here, a giggle there. Even the occasional guffaw. Laughter became your drug of choice, after all it is the best medicine right after estrogen. You just couldn’t stop yourself. Life was just so funny and you had to show everyone around you just how amusing it could be. You didn’t have time to frown any more.

At some point it stopped mattering if your gleeful expression was inappropriate. Your smile just kept growing day by day. After all, who doesn’t love spreading joy? Once you discovered the funny side of life, you found yourself spreading laughter almost as frequently as you spread your legs.. Why did everyone have to be so serious? Why couldn’t everyone see the circus that is life?

Still, you had to contend with some tiny little voice in the back of your mind telling you to be a mature and responsible girl. That voice told you to stop smiling, to take things oh so seriously. You were really starting to dislike that voice, the way she made you feel embarrassed, the way she tried to deprive you of your smile.

But you’d show her, wouldn’t you? You’d silence that serious bitch in the back of your brain. Nobody could ever take away your smile if you just painted it on. That’s when your transformation truly began. Out came the makeup and on went the foundation, the powder, pale and white, the pencils, the liner. Finally, you looked at yourself in the mirror and you watched in delight as you saw on your face. Your real face, for the first time.

Yes, yes, there she was. The girl you were always meant to be. Flawless powdered skin and big wide vacant eyes with a smile that practically stretched ear to ear. You giggled at what you’d become, so beautiful and in touch with the funny side of life now. Soon the whole world would be able to see exactly what you are… a reflection of them. A mirror held up to their absurdity.

You are a clown… and you’ve always known, somewhere deep down inside that this is exactly who you were meant to be. You can’t be serious, no matter how hard you try. You are an agent of joy and happiness, a bringer of smiles, a purveyor of laughter.. and you’ve got the cutest giggle to boot.

In time, your joyous self-realizations only grew and expanded. You just couldn’t stop yourself. The heavier and more elaborate your makeup became, the more natural it felt. The louder the laughter the more the embarrassment stayed quiet. Soon you just didn’t care anymore. Your transformation didn’t stop at makeup alone. Everything needed to be bigger, bouncier, more delightfully squeezable. A red rubber nose, plush new implants. The doctors made you so absurdly fuckable. You loved feeling your new curves, the supple flesh relenting under your fingers.

Your boobies make the most delightful sound with every jiggle and squeeze. You couldn’t even remember if boobies were supposed to honk like that. It still made you blush, of course, not that anyone could tell under all that paint on your face. You were becoming perfect and you simply could not be happier. No more thoughts, only laughter. The wider the smile, the less you worried about anything at all. The only thing that mattered from that point on was becoming a better bimbo clown.

Giggling, bouncing, jiggling and juggling.

The star attraction of the circus that is life.
You were the girl with all eyes on you.

Your pretty pale face.
Your big inflated lips.
That red rubber nose.
Let’s not forget those honkable boobies.

You are a clown.
And it feels so good to laugh.

Nobody takes you seriously anymore.
But you can’t remember why anyone ever did.

Happiness is your only motivation.
Amusement is your only purpose.

You have an audience to please.
You are the entertainment!

Being a big honking bimbo clown is the best life ever.
How could you be anything else?