Bimbo Emblem Chapter 1 - (FemRobin, Tharja)

"Tharja? Hello? I was told you wanted to see me?"

In a rarely-trodden corner of the Ylisstol castle, a heavy wooden door creaked on its hinges. Through it stepped a young woman, clad in a heavy black robe, etched with purple and trimmed in gold. She carried a stack of books in her arms, white pigtails whipping back and forth as she peered through the gloom of her colleague's quarters.

This was Robin, tactician of the Shepherds. In the wake of their previous victory, she'd retired to the Exalt's castle, living there and helping with the mundanities of running a kingdom, something she knew that her friend and monarch Chrom was not particularly good at. Some Shepherds had returned to their own homes to figure out what was going on with all the children from the future popping up, some trained for the new war these children spoke of, while others had taken temporary residence in the castle as thanks for their service. One such was Tharja, the Plegian sorceress they'd recruited a while back, who'd quickly taken a rather unhealthy romantic interest in Robin, as well as set upon cursing any members of the army who offended her.

The strategist had not been deterred, however, as Tharja, though dour and standoffish to all but her, was not only talented but surprisingly helpful as she began to warm to her fellow warriors. With polite refusal and patient understanding, the two had forged a bond. Now the mage lived here, practising her craft under the protection of the Exalt. And less than an hour past, Robin had been told she'd been invited to study with the dark mage.

Always hungry for both knowledge and a deeper connection with her peers, Robin had jumped at the chance. Now she had entered Tharja's quarters, and was starting to worry a little.

"Tharja? Hello? It's awfully dark in here... This isn't a prank, is it?"

Robin stepped forward, placing the stack of books on the floor and reaching to light one of the wall lanterns. As she did so, a strange smell met her nose. It was cloying, heavy and sweet, almost like a fusion of woodsmoke and honey. Unusual, even for Tharja, though admittedly not unpleasant. She pressed on, calling her friend's name.

Rounding the corner into the mage's makeshift study, she bore witness to a jarring sight. The room was busy, shelves stacked with jars and boxes containing bizarre and exotic hexing ingredients, a few bookcases filled to the brim with arcane literature and dark tomes, even some stacked around the room for lack of space. The desk across the room held several such books, all open as reference material, facing inward to where a figure, covered by a dark shawl, slumped in the middle of a freshly-etched magic circle.

"Tharja!" The tactician cried as she dashed to help her friend. She carefully scuffed the circle with her boot and stepped inside, sweeping aside the tangle of black hair as she rolled her unconscious friend over. As her view improved, the more her confusion grew.

For a moment, she doubted it was actually Tharja. Tharja was by no means an unattractive woman, far from it, but the face before Robin now was positively stunning. Soft, porcelain skin stretched over sharp, appealing features, with plump, darkly-rouged lips and long, gently fluttering eyelashes. Glancing down her body, even that appeared to have changed. Tharja had been the talk of the camp for a while after her recruitment for her body, but what she had now bordered on obscene. Bountiful breasts bordering on the size of her head bounced enticingly, barely contained by her signature bodystocking. That, combined with an enhanced figure that took Tharja's signature curviness and ran wild with it, pinching into an impossible waist before flaring into thick, rolling hips and long, lissome legs. On closer inspection, even her outfit had transformed, with what had previously been risqué now appearing outright whorish. Her sandals now featured towering platform heels, the elegant tabard she'd worn now a tiny loincloth that settled suggestively between her thighs, and the tasteful earrings she'd worn under her sweeping black hair now dangled as wide, golden hoops.

"Gods, Tharja, are you okay?!" The white-haired woman shook her friend, eyes wide with alarm. Sure enough, Tharja groaned, her heavy lashes parted, eyes gazing up groggily as her vision cleared. She blinked, and smiled.

"Hi there Robin..." She giggled. Robin stopped for a moment. Tharja didn't giggle. She might titter. She might cackle. But never had she made a noise that sounded quite like that almost disturbingly innocent giggle.

"What happened? Are you feeling alright? You look... Different." Robin drew back an inch, suddenly aware of her proximity to this new, extremely sexy version of her friend. Tharja giggled again.

"I was testing a hex... And it got a little weird..." She began to move, to stand up, but slipped on her ridiculous heels, falling back onto Robin, head on her shoulder. "Whoopsie!" She laughed, throwing her arms around the robed woman in a tight hug. Swaying and slurring, it was almost like she was drunk.

To Robin, this was looking like a disturbing parody of the time Tharja had attempted to make herself "normal", though this time magic was involved. With her face so close to the giggling mage's, she could smell the same heady honey smoke from before, but far stronger, wafting from her companion like the scent of shampoo. The strength of it was almost enough to make her light-headed. Looking past that, she noticed a tome lying on the floor in the centre of the magic circle, bound in an unusual pink cover.

"Umm... Tharja, what's that?" She gestured with a free hand.

"Huh? Oh, yeah..." The Plegian swivelled in her lap with surprising grace, flipping open the tome's thick cover with a single pointed heel. "I was working on this... I think I got it right, but now I can't figure out how it works..." She pouted, resting her head back on her friend's shoulder before giggling again, her frustration forgotten, and softly nuzzled into the collar of the tactician's robe.

Despite the distraction of Tharja's sudden thirst for affection, Robin could clearly see from the book’s position that she had been reading it upside down. All of this was... Worrying.

"Okay, don't worry Tharja-" She gently dislodged the dark mage from her lap, stood and snatched up the tome. It was untitled, and had several components that Robin couldn't even begin to understand, but it seemed to be an attempt to mix mind-affecting and bodily transmutation charms into a targeted spell. Why Tharja was playing with such a specific project was a mystery, but it seemed she'd just been an accidental victim to its effects. Now, was it permanent? Was there a reversal clause? Could she-

"Robiiiin..." Tharja pined from the floor. "Drop that dumb book and come play..." She settled on her knees, swaying gently, palms on the floor, arms pressing her breasts together, back arched to better display them as she gazed up with sultry eyes... It was an almost professional display of seduction. Such a shame that Robin didn't pay her the least bit of attention.

"Not to worry Tharja, I'll have you fixed up soon enough. Now, that clause there..." The tactician devolved into mumbling, leaving Tharja on the floor to pout. The sorceress looked down at her enhanced body, trailing a hand over her stomach and over the curve of her chest.

"Fix...?"

"Don't worry, I have this under control. Looks like some parts of this are temporary anyway. Wait, soul stimulation? What does that mean..." It was clear, even to the newly minted bimbo, that Robin wasn't listening.

But the dulled mind Tharja was suffering was indeed temporary, and as Robin milled about, cross-referencing books around the cluttered study, trying to decipher the spell, the hexer's rightly-feared mind slowly began to return. With it came awareness, as her new body's sensations became more recognisable. Every movement felt better, more streamlined and tactile. She squeezed her thighs together and breathed a silent moan at how sensitive she was. This new existence was pleasure incarnate.

And what kind of woman would she be if she didn't share this supreme pleasure with the one she loved?

Robin failed to notice her bimbofied friend moving behind her, absorbed in her work as she was. Even in different circumstances, she'd have loved to rifle through such obscure magical texts. Hence, when Tharja came up behind her with a sealing charm and a sprig of mandrake root, she was out before the tome even hit the floor.

As darkness claimed her, he was vaguely aware of a soft warmth being pressed to her face, and a distant voice.

"Don't worry my love... I know you'll adore this..."

+++

Emerging from the dreamless, unnatural sleep, Robin stirred quickly.

"Ungh... Tharja?" She groaned, attempting to move, only to realise her hands had been tied at the wrist. Her eyes shot open to find that she was bound and tied to the wall of the study, a semi-circle of magic etchings surrounding her, with Tharja nowhere to be seen. Her jacket, boots and trousers lay on the floor across from her, leaving her in her trademark pinstripe undertop and smallclothes. She attempted to move her legs, but they seemed leaden and unresponsive. Raising her voice only silenced her to a croak. Her mind raced, but the confusion thrumming through her mixed with the ever-present and increasingly distracting scent of honey smoke made it infuriatingly hard to think. She was trapped. Fortunately, she didn't have to wait long.

Sharp clicking noises came from the empty doorway, the kind of sound one would expect from sharp heels on a stone floor. Tharja strode into view, towering over the captured woman in those absurd shoes. Not only that, it seemed she'd gained some height in her transformation. In one arm, she held the pink-bound tome, her chest overflowing against it as it was pressed to her chest.

As she approached, her features lit up, though not in the predatory sense one came to expect from Tharja. This was very real, very warm, a look of genuine love. And in some ways that was even scarier.

"Sorry to make you wait, my love..." She drawled, almost all trace of the giggly airhead from earlier now gone. "And even more sorry that you had to see me like that. I needed to make sure the spell was perfect for you..."

"Tharja! What do you think you're doing! Let me go!" The tactician strained against her bonds, equal parts desperate and futile. "Whatever that spell did, it's affected your mind! Untie me and we can figure out what's wrong-"

"You really do talk too much sometimes..." The towering bimbo shook her head, placing the book on the ground and stepping forward to straddle her prisoner, hands clasping either side of her captive's face as their eyes met, mere inches apart. "But you should already know I love every part of you. Even that..." She descended, and pressed herself against the smaller woman, nearly smothering her in soft, yielding flesh.

Robin found herself assaulted on all fronts. Arms snaked around her waist, breasts many times the size of her own pressed against her, and her lips were captured by Tharja's own, the Plegian's massive feather-soft pillows kissing her with a gentle hunger that left her completely overwhelmed. This was one battlefield the tactician was not prepared for. Tharja pressed the advantage, leaning in closer to kiss her obsession ever more intensely, her hips descending to grind the mound of her womanhood against Robin's leg. The tactician squeaked as she felt the heat on her thigh, her every movement, whether it be of lip or of hip, rolled around by Tharja into a sensual full-body dance that felt so incredibly hard to resist...

Eventually, the mage withdrew, leaving Robin a flustered, blushing mess. "You're adorable..." She smiled, with not a hint of malice. "But now it's time to make you beautiful... More beautiful than anyone else in the world..."

"Wait!" Robin panted, still breathless from the carnal engagement. "Tharja, please... Don't... I know you only want the best for me, but you're not in your right mind-"

"I know what I've done, Robin." Tharja interrupted again. "I made this for you anyway. The bodily changes, the pheromones, the lowered inhibitions... It was all for you, to give you everything you ever wanted. But after feeling the ecstasy of this existence, I just can't help but share..." She leaned in again, and Robin reflexively recoiled. "I'm still the same Tharja I always was. I'm still yours, my love. Now and forevermore. I want to let you be your own perfection, no matter the cost to me. And now, after testing it on myself, it's ready." She planted a singular, chaste kiss on Robin's flushed forehead, and withdrew, leaving her beloved speechless.

"You did this for me?" She eventually managed, watching her friend finalise the details of the ritual. Tharja looked up again, the warm and loving look on her face only slightly offset by the enormous valley of cleavage right below it.

"Everything I do, I do for you, my love. Now, hold still and relax, I promise it won’t make you a vapid airhead, but it will feel completely amazing..." She settled back on her rather sizable haunches and raised the tome, eyes fluttering closed. Fingers splayed, lines of magenta-tinged power began to flow around her as the familiar thrum of magic filled the air. The chalk symbols on the floor around Robin began to react, taking on a bright pink glow as the magic spread through them. Robin herself gasped as a pleasurable heat seemed to grow in her very core, peaking before slowly diffusing through her. Her breath caught and muscles tightened as the wave of heat rolled slowly over her, her eyes squeezed shut and unaware of the pink miasma that twisted over her form.

And soon, as quickly as it had risen, it was gone. Robin was left trembling, her whole form stimulated in a completely novel way. Opening one eye, she saw Tharja reaching up to untie her, dispelling the hexes that kept her in place, then glanced down at herself, calmed by the fact that her body appeared unchanged. She was content to let it happen, a warm satisfaction pervading her mind. Once finished, Tharja sat down beside her, winding her fingers through her subject’s Grima-marked hand and resting her head on her beloved's bare shoulder.

"How do you feel, Robin?" She cooed in her red-faced subject's ear.

"That was... Intense..." Robin managed as her breathing settled, rubbing her unshackled wrists. "But I don't feel all that differe-" She stopped mid-sentence as she suddenly realised that she did indeed feel quite different. A new feeling was budding inside her, seemingly in her nipples. It was small, but growing fast, building like an ocean wave as her flesh seemed to swell with new mass.

She threw her head back, teeth grit against the exhilarating wave of sensation as the feeling in her breast blossomed, feeling the weight on her chest grow in tandem with the intense sensation. Her hand squeezed Tharja's tightly, her friend returning in kind as she watched the transformation in awe.

Robin dared not open her eyes, but it felt like she was straining against her undertop now, and yet still she continued to grow. Were her clothes changing with her? Did she look as much like a stripper as Tharja did? She barely cared, growing felt too gods-damned good. She moaned aloud, clasping her free arm across her chest, finding herself inexplicably delighted feeling the gigantic and yet still swelling mounds.

Just when it seemed like she might be slowing down, a new set of budding sensations arose, this time in her navel. It seemed to stretch out through her lower body, snaking through her abdomen to her most intimate regions, winding around her pelvis as she felt the changes coming anew. As her cushiony bottom ballooned beneath her, she felt a strange sensation in her womanhood, followed by a stretching in her stomach as her hips expanded and waist shrunk to impossibly ideal proportions. She cried out in earnest, gasping and shaking as the changes overtook her body, never letting go of Tharja's hand.

Before that was even done, more and more of her body was overtaken by the change. A surging in her scalp as a whole foot of thick, lustrous white hair grew out, muscles coiling around the bones in her legs as they plumped out, becoming tantalisingly thick. Her face contorted into a visage of perfect bliss, swelling lips forming a perfect O as her features morphed, still unmistakably 'her' but yet smoother, fuller, more beautiful. As it reached her hands, the mark of Grima on her skin seemed to writhe, resisting the changes, but found itself overwhelmed, capitulating and allowing the change to occur. Each individual finger twitched as the nail burst out, every one equally long and perfectly manicured. Every cell in her body affected by the changes became a pinprick of ecstasy, feeding into one another as they overwhelmed the poor woman's mind in the most decadent moment of her life.

After what seemed like days, the cascade ended. She slumped into Tharja's arms, convulsing and cooing, her brilliant strategic mind reduced to a babbling mess. The dark-haired bimbo stroked her hair and whispered gentle comforts as her mind returned. As the light came back on in her eyes, Tharja asked her:

"Would you like a mirror?"

Robin wasn't sure initially, but quickly made a nod. Tharja extricated herself from the blushing fresh convert, and stood, heels clicking on the floor as she strode to the other side of the room, pulling a full-length mirror from behind a cabinet.

Robin felt delicate, gentle hands helping her to her feet, guiding her new body through the motions of walking again. She kept her eyes shut, unsure of what awaited her, until she felt Tharja settling beside her, whispering softly in her ear: "You're amazing..."

Robin opened her eyes and was yet again stunned by what she saw. Her body could make a fertility idol jealous, her face melt the heart of the most hardened scoundrel. Every inch of her looked like a piece of immaculately sculpted beauty, from the waterfalls of shining white hair around her face to the perfect curve between her bust and her hips. Standing next to Tharja, who had the body of a veritable goddess now herself, only served to highlight her own extraordinary features. Where Tharja's breasts were as big as her head, Robin's were that and half again, with no sign of sag or loss of shape. Where Tharja's lips were sultry and thick, Robin's were filled to the extent that it gave her a constant breathtaking pout. She even seemed to loom a few inches over the mage, despite the latter's ridiculous heels, lending her a distinct air of feminine authority even with her only claddings being a super-stretched pinstripe tube top and soaked white thong.

The two bimbos' eyes met in the mirror, and Robin saw nothing but love and adoration. In the face of such a marvellous transformation combined with a look of such uninhibited love, the new Robin could bear no ill will. She turned and embraced the shorter woman, lips meeting lips in another passionate kiss. Robin would never have been so forward before, to another woman no less, but it seemed… Right. They had barely spoken a word, but the roaming hands and sweet little moans told them everything they needed to know.

Tharja’s vocalisations were particularly desperate, as she found herself nearly overwhelmed by the fresh convert’s sheer hunger. As their lips clashed, slips of tongue being exchanged as they explored each other’s mouths, she found her legs weakening, partly from the unimaginable joy that her beloved was really kissing her, and partly from some new instinct she felt deep inside. It just seemed proper to be on her knees in Robin’s presence.

Soon she could take no more, and fell from Robin’s arms, gasping for air. The white-blonde bimbo smiled and looked down at her charge, strange new feelings stirring at the sight of a face so near to her crotch. She’d rarely entertained such thoughts before, but now they came thick and fast, filling her mind with sordid fantasies.

It seemed Tharja felt the same, as her hands quickly found Robin’s hips, then began to shimmy down the thin lace string that covered her most private areas. Robin’s breath stopped for a moment as she realised her intent, hands raised apprehensively to her chest, only for all her doubt to melt away the second a tongue touched her folds.

Tharja wasted no time, diving into her lover’s soaked honeypot the instant the wet scrap of cloth was out of the way, tasting and exploring with almost religious fervour. Robin let out a shaky breath, reaching down to tease out Tharja’s golden circlet before lovingly intertwining the fingers of one hand through the silky black hair. To the eager black-haired bimbo, her grip only spurred her to go deeper, faster, focus right there, while the gleeful receiver’s other hand went to her breast, kneading it, teasing the nipple, luxuriating in its divine sensitivity.

Tharja kept going, bringing in a hand to probe her beloved’s depths as she lapped at the bud of the clitoris, curling to find the most sensitive spots, bring as much pleasure as she could… Robin’s grip tightened as she kept up the onslaught, hips grinding subtly into her servicer’s ministrations as her plateau built higher and higher. And yet… It didn’t seem fair.

“Stop… Tharja, stop.” Robin groaned and pulled back, a thin trail of fluid connecting them for a moment as they separated. Tharja looked up at her like a dejected puppy, and another new feeling stirred in Robin’s heart, one she couldn’t quite name. An urge to take control, to pleasure and be pleasured, entirely on her own terms. It was familiar in some respects, alien in others, but she still very much wanted to try.

She leaned forward, weight pressing down on Tharja, forcing her back to the floor, nestling in the softness of a rug. After kicking off the soaked string she once called panties, Robin settled between her legs, and with a mischievous glance up through the cleavage of the prone woman, tore a gash in the crotch of the latter’s bodystocking. Tharja sighed as cool air touched her own soaking slit, teeth nipping at the corner of one plump lip in anticipation. With a smile, Robin swung a sculpted leg over Tharja’s, pressing their pussies together in an intimate moment of passion. Their hearts fluttered in unison as they met, smooth skin gliding over itself as they began to slowly grind against one another. Gasps and sighs filled the air, each reaching to intertwine their fingers with the other, staring deep into one another’s eyes as the pace escalated, a tightness forming in their cores in unison. The pressure quickly reached unbearable levels, and Tharja was the first to let go.

She slammed her groin forward, letting out a guttural groan as her insides turned to a hot, gooey mess, legs twitching beneath her as her eyes screwed shut, offering just enough stimulation to send Robin over the edge as well. She bucked her hips once more and squealed, her composure crumbling as she clasped her chest in her arms, waves of deep satisfaction roaring through her, placating her in ways no orgasm ever had before. She trembled in place for a long moment before slumping forward, slipping to her lover’s side and embracing her fully, their bodies intertwining as darkness encroached upon their vision.

With Tharja nestling into her bosom, the last thing Robin saw before blissful slumber took her was the outline of that wondrous pink tome, the mere sight of it spinning up a brand new lewd hunger inside her. Her smile widened a fraction as her exquisite eyes slipped shut, her body tired but as yet unsated. With that book, the possibilities for pleasure were endless, for her and everyone she cared about. In her last conscious thoughts, she made a mental note to thank Tharja properly when they woke for this exciting opportunity to deepen the bonds between them and their allies. In dreams, her mind flitted to and fro, debauching and consorting with muscular men and voluptuous women, exhilarated and inspired by images of her friends’ faces twisted in incredible pleasure.

Robin’s fate changed that night in ways that she could have scarcely imagined. Her new destiny called; to spread the carnal joy and fulfilment of the bimbo’s blessing across the world.

She could hardly have asked for anything more wonderful.