I wasn't always like this. Actually, even now, I'm not always like this, mostly, just when I am at work. Actually, it's pretty much only when I am around my Boss. Every time I come into work and greet him in the morning, I just get wet. And then I pretty much stay that way all day untill I go home. Sometimes, when it's really bad, I slide my hand down there and touch. If I had a dollar for every time I've cum at work. . . I'm glad he likes it when I do that. Most jobs, that could be a problem. But not here, here he sometimes tells me that I have to, and then I can't seem to stop. At home, and away from here I'm not like this. I'm usually so quiet and shy. I'd never do something like masturbate in public. But here, I'm touching right now while I write this, sliding my hand between my legs under my desk as I write what my Boss told me to, even though sometimes someone walks by the office. They don't know what my hand is doing, I'm discreet. But I am still doing it, and here, I don't care. How did I get like this? Well, that's what my Boss told me to write about. You see, about a year ago I was a very shy, very quiet girl who's marrage had ended primarily because I just didn't enjoy sex. Part of it was the man I was with. Part of it was that I had a lot of personal baggage. I just overthought so many things. . . and while sex was pleasurible, I just never let go and enjoyed myself completly. After my divorce, I began to wander if there was something wrong with me. I saw a lot of psychiatrists. Most of them just told me I needed to find what I liked, and learn how to let go. Someone recomeded that I read some erotica and just see what I responded to and what I didn't. So that's what I did. Eventually I did find some things that turned me on. But I was scared to death by what it was. I found I liked dominant men. Not just slightly dominant men either. The stories that I liked involved bimbos, hypnotists, mind control, brainwashing, sometimes consentual, sometimes not. And it wasn't just a slight like either: I masturbated for the first time while reading them. I was sure after that, that there was something seriously wrong with me. I was sure only a really twisted person would like these things. I had grown up to believe that this was not something a nice woman liked. So I stopped seeing my psychiatrists and became a little reclusive. But to my dismey I kept reading stories about the strangest things. Eventually I found an author who wrote these sort of things that also did hypnosis as a form of therapy, and I contacted him. I asked him if he thought this was wierd. He said no. Somehow I became his secretary. God, just thinking about my first day at his office has me ready to cum. I don't even clearly remember what happened. Somehow I told him that I wanted to be a Bimbo, something I never told anyone. I don't know if he had already hypnotised me somehow or what, but I just sort of said it. "What do you mean by Bimbo?" He had asked. "Well," I blushed, "I wish I could just get into sex like it was the only thing that mattered for once. I read about women who could cum so easily. Women that could get so turned on that all they could think about was sex. Don't get me wrong, there is nothing wrong with being smart, I like being who I am. But for once, I wish by mind would just shut up and I could be just sexy, just pleasurible, just, well, a pleasure toy. To be nothing but an airhead who wants sex and can't control herself like a beautyful blond who has sex for fun. A Bimbo. . . . I know, there is something wrong with me, I'm going home now. . ." "No, no, no, there is nothing wrong with you," He laughed, "It's ok to want all sorts of things. Really, there is a time and a place to surrender to that kind of a thing and it doesn't make you less of a person as long as you know when and where and with who that kind of thing is ok. There is nothing wrong with wanting something like that, it's just a question of finding when and where is a good way to express it. Do you have a hard time letting that part of you out?" "Yes. . . I don't feel like that part of me is ok. . . " "Well, would you like to let that part of you free for a little bit and see what happens?" "I. . . I don't know. . .I don't know how. . . you don't think this is bad?" "No. And I can let that part of you out if you want. . ." Excuse me for a second, thinking about this, I really need to cum and I can't touch and write at the same time. . .