Wishes Do Come True [A Transgender Bimbo Story] - Epilogue (Patreon)

Britta continues to enjoy life with her two strapping husbands while the memories of her old life as Joel slowly melt away. 

~

Epilogue

Britta’s life was so good. If a little confusing. It was weird, most days, she could totally forget her old life as…was…what had her name been again? Back in that boring life where she was a man? Joel! That was it. It took a lot of effort to remember her old name most days; effort she simply didn’t have. She didn’t really care to anyway; life now was so much better with her darling husbands. 

At first, when she realised she was getting dumber, she felt self-conscious. She spent the first few days after that first round of earth-shattering lovemaking trying to gain back what she’d lost. Looking up education videos online that absolutely bored her to tears and did nothing to help at all. The words just went in one ear and out the other. It was so boring that she actually fell asleep at the table. 

She’s woken up and found Jamal and Angelo standing over her with fond smiles, trying to hold back their laughter. 

“What are you doing, Britta?” Jamal had asked. 

“Trying to be smarter…” She squirmed, embarrassed.

“Oh Britta,” Angelo grinned, “You don’t need to worry about that, we don’t care if you’re not the sharpest tool in the shed.”

“You could be the spoon for all I care.” Jamal added. “You’re pretty, kind and so sweet, that’s all we care about. Come on, why don’t we show you just how much we love you.” They’d taken her to bed and fucked another few weeks worth of memories right out of her, and a couple of brain cells too. Each time either of her husbands took her, Britta felt more of her old self melt away. It was an odd feeling, but not a bad one. Sometimes it was downright orgasmic. Feeling her intelligence melt away should have been horrifying but instead it was bliss. Her thoughts were getting so simple it was impossible to feel depressed, or anxious, over thinking took effort and who wanted that? Not Britta that was for sure.

Thanks to her rich husbands, she didn’t have to work either. Her days were filled with leisure in a way Joel never could have been. People who said money couldn’t buy happiness were dead wrong. Well, it wasn’t that having money made her happy, but it sure as shit wasn’t going to make her sad. Angelo and Jamal showered her in gifts, and the more she fell into her Britta persona, the more excited they made her. 

She quickly got over what little masculine pride she had left and started to squeal with delight every time they bought her a new dress or set of heels. Her body was like a barbie: made for dress up. Sometimes she spent the entire day in her giant walk-in closet trying on outfits; admiring how different ones showed off her chest, or the curve of her ass. 

Tonight, she was curled up between her two strapping husbands. Body still humming from her last orgasm, hole aching in that way only a good hard fuck could achieve. She’d lost another handful of memories with it, but she didn’t care.

“So Britta, baby, we have a little job for you.” Jamal grinned, kissing the back of her neck. “The company needs to hold a gala for charity and we think you should be the hostess.”

“Me!?”

“Of course.” Angelo smiled, “You’re always the best hostess when we have parties here. You’ll do great!”

Britta wracked her brain for a moment and found the memories: her in a skimpy little cocktail dress, making the rounds with bottles of champagne and little canapes. Laughing, smiling, charming everybody she met effortlessly with her innocent smile and low cut dress. She blushed at the memory, the Joel part of her still clinging on. 

“But planning a party is a lot less work than an event.” She pouted, “I don’t know anything about charity stuff. What if I order the wrong food? How do I even order food? Or decorations? Or…or anything?”

“We believe in you,” Jamal said gently. “I know you’ll figure it out. We’ll give you all the information in the morning, and you have three whole months to get it ready before the big night.”

Three months sounded so long, but also like no time at all. Joel was organised but Britta wasn’t; she couldn’t even decide on an outfit most days, let alone all the big choices she’d have to make for a fancy black tie event! But Jamal and Angelo were so good to her, and her life was so grand; whatever charity they were raising funds for probably had a lot of needy people who lived lives far worse than hers. The least she could do was plan a big party to get them some support. 

“Okay…I’ll try.”

“That’s our girl.” Jamal beamed, kissing along her shoulders. “I think that deserves a reward, don’t you, Angelo?”

“Oh, absolutely.”

Any anxieties Britta had melted away under the touch of her loving husbands. And soon they, and a handful more of Joel’s memories, were gone entirely. Swept away in yet another whirlwind of pleasure. 

~

Britta stared at the to-do list in front of her, filled with terror. She’d been given all the specifics for the event; it was for a children’s charity and would have at least four hundred guests. Everything else, she had to decide, but it seemed like every time she tried to tick something off the list, it required something else to already be finished. 

She couldn’t book a caterer without a venue, but she couldn’t pick a venue without choosing a theme, and she couldn’t pick a theme without deciding on colours, which of course would mean choosing decorations, and it all made her head spin. She was sitting in a cafe, staring hopelessly at three different catering menus. They were all so good. If she could pick one, then maybe she could think of a theme based around it, then pick a venue and…and…

“I can’t do this.” She wailed, “Angelo and Jamal are gonna be so upset with me.”

She was on the verge of tears when somebody put an iced coffee with a mountain of whipped cream in front of her.

“You just have to take it one step at a time.” A woman said kidney. “Here, why don’t I help?”

The woman was beautiful, with dark hair in a high ponytail, light brown eyes and an odd, almost dusky skin tone. For a second, it nearly looked blue, but then the light changed and it settled into a cool olive tone. 

“Are you hosting an event?” She asked.

“Yes! And I don't know what I am doing!” Britta felt her bottom lip wobble, and then it all came spilling out. To her surprise, the woman just nodded; she didn't seem intimidated or weirded out by the crying blonde bimbo at all. 

“Well, if I were going to do a big charity event, I’d go with canapes, not a sit-down menu.”

“Oh…yes, that’s a good idea! I’m Britta, by the way.”

“Jean.” She smiled, “I am pretty good at planning parties, do you need an assistant?”

“Oh, oh yes, Jean, please! I am sure I can pay ya!” Britta said, “A good salary, too! I won’t skimp you. Oh! And I should pay you for this iced coffee, too!”

Jean smiled warmly and shook her head a little, like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“You’re a kind soul, Britta. You’re one of the few people in the world who deserve to be rich.”

Britta blushed; this Jean lady reminded her of somebody. Maybe somebody from Joel’s life? She tried to think, but those memories were so hazy, and her brain was fried from all the extra thinking she’d been doing, planning this event. 

“Okay, well, how about I make you a short list of venues and then you don’t get overwhelmed with choices?” Jean suggested, picking up her phone to start typing.

“Oh, don't you want to make sure I’m good to pay you first? I don’t want you working for free.”

Jean just smiled again. “I know you’re good for it.”

~

With Jean’s help, the planning became a lot more fun. Britta woke up every day and worked hard to make it as fancy as she could. She’d booked a big ballroom and picked a gold and silver theme. Which the old mansion they’d booked fit perfectly with all its marble columns and golden frames. 

“Isn’t it just the best!” Britta cried, twirling across the room with her arms open. “Can’t you just see it? The canape table over there, and the champagne fountain in that corner and…and…”

Jean raised an expectant eyebrow.

“And…?”

Britta’s stomach churned; maybe that had been a bit too much twirling.

“And I’m gonna be sick.”

“Oh shit!”

Jean somehow produced a bucket just in time and Britta moaned in embarrassment, gratefully taking the hanky Jean passed her next as she disposed of the bucket. One thing she loved about Jean, was that she somehow always managed to have exactly what she needed on hand at all times. 

“Sorry…I had some bad seafood a few days ago, and it’s following me.” Britta sighed. 

Jean didn’t look convinced.

“Bad seafood, are you sure?”

“Yeah, and I think I might be allergic too.” Britta pouted, “I’ve been so bloated. I could barely get the zip on this dress up this morning!”

It was one of her favourites too; the cinched middle that showed off her hourglass figure. Not that she was looking much like an hourglass with this puffiness. Jean narrowed her eyes and walked circles around Britta.

“Butts bigger.” She noted, giving it a playful slap. “Boobs too.”

She gave Britta a poke in the sideboob, and she giggled. 

“You're bloated…sick, and your curves are growing. Does that…make you think of anything?” She gave Britta an expectant look and the bimbo just blinked at her. Utterly oblivious. 

“Um…”

“Honey, when was your last period?”

“My what?”

Jean slapped her forehead, and Britta felt a lightbulb click on. She’d been living this high life for a few months now; old habits die hard. Periods hadn’t really been the sort of thing she’d worried about. 

“I’m…pregnant.”

“I reckon so.”

For a second, Britta’s head was empty of all thoughts, then the reality hit.

“Omigosh, okay, so I like, need a pregnancy test, right? And…and I’m not supposed to eat cheese! Wait, is it hard cheese or soft cheese I’m not supposed to have?”

Jean laughed and held her still.

“Relax, I’ll get you a test. You focus on not panicking. Your husbands are going to be thrilled.” 

“Oh, I hope so.”

The test was positive, because of course it was, and Britta was full of nervous excitement as she got driven home. Having children had always been a dream of hers; in both lives. The fact that she was going to be the one to have the children, rather than just father them, was beyond her wildest dreams. Britta rested a hand on her slightly swollen belly; she couldn’t be more than three months now, which meant by the time the charity even came along, she’d be nearly six months. If her math was right, which it might not be, math was getting a lot harder these days. 

When she arrived home, neither of her husbands weren’t there yet, which gave her time to think. What was the best way to announce this? Just come right out and say it? Or should she wait until they’d relaxed a bit from work? Maybe after a round in bed together? No, this had to be perfect.

“A meal! Women always cook their husbands a big meal to tell them good news in the movies, right?”

That sounded right at least. Britta got to work; Joel had been a pretty good cook. Hopefully, she still had a little bit of him in her. Britta twirled in the middle of the kitchen, letting her hair fly out behind her in excitement. She was going to have a baby! The thought made her heart lift and spin, a bright, dizzy joy that filled every corner of her. She kept touching her stomach as she flitted across the kitchen, trying to think of every ingredient so she didn't miss anything. 

“Oh, they’re going to be so surprised,” she squealed. 

Her imagination ran wild: candles, a roast chicken, vegetables laid out all around it, soft music playing when her husbands came home from work. She’d tell them after dessert. Maybe she’d make a little speech, something heartfelt and poetic about family and love. Jamal and Angelo would both be so thrilled they’d hug her, and make love, and everything would be perfect. She’d never thought being this happy was possible back when she was Joel. 

She tried to focus on the food, but then she started thinking about baby names and tiny socks and which of the two men would cry first, and, damn, the gravy water boiled over the sides. She darted to the stove, flapping her hands uselessly as steam whooshed up. 

“Okay! Okay! I’ve got it under control!” she told the kitchen, which clearly disagreed.

By the time footsteps echoed down the hall, the air was thick with the smell of burnt garlic and something suspiciously like smoke.

“Baby?” called Jamal, his deep voice cautious but slightly amused. “Are we under attack?”

“That’s a lot of smoke, baby.” Angelo hummed, coming over and putting a lid on the pot to stop it. 

Britta froze, a wooden spoon in hand, caught like a guilty child. Then she burst into giggles. She was too excited to be embarrassed. 

“It was supposed to be dinner! But I got distracted thinking about…about something amazing.”

Jamal walked over and kissed her forehead. “Something amazing, huh? Should we order delivery first, or do we need to guess?”

Britta bit her lip, eyes shining. “Maybe guess.”

Angelo sniffed the air dramatically. “Let’s try…you’ve decided to cater the charity event yourself?”

“No…” Britta giggled, placing a hand on her stomach and rubbing it dramatically. Jamal’s eyes went wide, and he grabbed Angelo’s arm, nodding towards her belly as she turned to the side to make the small bump even more noticeable. 

“You’re pregnant,” Angelo said softly, looking into her eyes.

Britta nodded, and suddenly all the chaos as both the men rushed to be the first to hug her while trying not to jostle her precious bump. Britta laughed, tears of joy stinging her eyes. All of a sudden, the smoke, the mess, it all seemed perfect. Her husbands were home, her heart was full, and though the dinner was ruined, their world was about to begin anew. Now all she had to do was make sure that the event in a few months' time went well, and everything would be perfect. 

~

The ballroom was lit up, gold and silver decorations shone from the ceiling, making it look like there were three extra chandeliers. The canapes were being served by men and women in black tie suits on silver trays, and slowly the guests were all filing in, signing up for silent auction items and shaking hands with the charity owners. Britta watched it all with a wide smile on her face; her blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing her flushed face, and her perky breasts heaved beneath the tight, sequined dress that clung to her like a second skin.

It was gold, of course, Jamal had bought it specially for her when she mentioned the theme Jean had helped her come up with. Between the dress, her hair and her pregnancy glow, she felt like a chandelier herself; dazzling, sparkling, glowing. Jean stepped up beside her, clipboard in hand. 

“First round of food is on the floor, I’ve spoken with the musicians about their missing sheet music and have new stuff on the way, and the silent auction has already raised over ten thousand dollars in the first hour.” 

“What would I do without you, Jean?” Britta sighed, “This whole planning thing would have been a nightmare without you. Thank you so, so much.”

“You did great, especially considering your little bun in the oven.”

Jean rubbed her belly with a soft smile, and Britta giggled and joined her. She was six months along now, but she already looked ready to pop. Jamal and Angelo practically worshipped her, they rarely left her side except to work, right now, they were rubbing elbows with all their work fellows, but she could see the way their eyes slid over to her every spare second. 

There was a great shout over by the silent auction as a dark skinned, older woman set down her pen. The charity owners were shaking her hand, tears in their eyes, and they thanked her profusely. The woman smiled, white teeth dazzling against her dark skin. Then, she spied Britta, and that smile turned cold. There was something familiar about her that she just couldn’t put her finger on. 

The woman was wearing an expensive black dress with a white fur boa around her shoulders; she must have been in her late fifties or sixties, but she wore it well, except when the smile dropped entirely when she came to stand in front of Britta.

“Hi!” Britta smiled obliviously, “Thank you for the big donation! I’m so happy to meet you!”

She stuck out her hand, and the woman sneered at it. “Is that any way to treat your mother-in-law?” 

“M-mother in…”

Britta’s memories flashed before her eyes; she couldn’t find a single one of this woman. No wait, she could; Angelo’s mother. She met the woman exactly once and had left the house in tears after a round of vicious verbal attacks. This woman hated her, hated that she’d married her son and practically cut Angelo off because of it! Britta felt her cheeks go pink; damn Joel memories taking up important space!

“Sorry, blonde moment.” She giggled, trying to make light of the situation. It didn’t work; Angelo’s mother just pursed her lips disapprovingly. 

“I am here for charity.” She said simply, giving the owners a smile and wave. 

Her face was friendly, but her words were sharp and cold. Nobody else was close enough to hear her. From the outside, they probably looked like they were having a pleasant conversation. 

“I’ll say it once and I’ll say it again, if it's money you want, I would be happy to pay you off.”

“What?”

“I don’t want some blonde, gold-digging, bimbo running my son dry, or getting him involved in this disgusting throuple idea. You want his money? I have more, I shall give you a substantial amount to go.” She waved a hand over to the auction table. “I have enough to throw away to the dogs, as you can see.”

It took Britta a moment to realise what she was implying, and she gasped in horror.

“Those people aren’t dogs, they are helping the needy!”

“Like you?”

Britta’s bottom lip wobbled, and Angelo’s mother opened hers to give her another lashing when Jean suddenly appeared. 

“I think that’s enough, Britta here has worked tirelessly to plan this event, and she’s pregnant, I don’t think this is necessary.”

“It’s probably not even my sons…”

“It’s all of ours,” Britta said quietly, and the woman scoffed.

“This baby will have more love than you are capable of understanding.” Jean cut in, “Because, despite what you may think, Britta is a good, kind person who would never take advantage of somebody.”

Jean gripped Britta’s shoulders and steered her away, having a quick word to security on their way past. 

“Don’t worry about her.” Jean said quietly, “I have a feeling she’ll come around and apologise soon…”

“Really? You think so? Do people really think I’m a gold digger?”

“No, sweetie. You’re too kind and stupid to hurt a fly, let alone Angelo and Jamal.”

“Aw, thanks!”

Jean just giggled and deposited Britta next to her husbands, who proceeded to spend the evening showing her off until the event finally started to wind down to a close, and they disappeared to say goodbye to a few large donation givers. Britta and Jean went to collect the silent auction slips, and Britta’s eyes almost fell out of her head. They had raised so much! 

Guests filed past her, thanking her and complimenting her party-throwing skills. The boss of Angelo and Jamal’s company even mentioned hiring her as their official event planner, and Jean, too, of course. 

The ball had been a triumph, and Britta basked in the afterglow of its success. She turned back to Lila, wanting to thank her for all the help she’d given, but to her surprise, the assistant was gone. Instead, her eyes landed on two figures approaching her, their presence commanding the space. Her husbands moved with a predatory grace, their dark skin gleaming under the soft glow of the overhead lights. Britta felt her pussy pulse as they came to stand on either side of her at the edge of the ballroom. 

“You did everything just perfect, baby,” Angelo said.

“We knew you would, now that everything is winding down…why don’t you come with us?”

They led her down a corridor, heading towards one of the empty rooms. Britta’s lips curved into a knowing smile as she noticed their throbbing cocks tenting the fabric of their pants, a clear sign of their eagerness to reward her for her efforts. They opened a door, revealing a beautiful, abandoned drawing room. 

Angelo moved first, his large hand wrapping around her waist, pulling her close. His touch was firm yet tender, his dark fingers contrasting sharply against her pale skin. Jamal followed suit, his hand sliding up her skirt, his fingers brushing against the lace of her panties. Britta shivered at the contact. Angelo dipped his head, capturing her lips in a deep, hungry kiss. His tongue invaded her mouth, claiming her, as Jamal’s fingers slipped beneath her damp panties, finding her already dripping pussy.

Britta moaned and let her head fall back as Angelo’s kiss deepened. Jamal’s fingers were deft, his touch expert, as he slid one, then two, into her wet heat. Angelo’s hands roamed over her body, his fingers tracing the curves of her breasts, squeezing her nipples through the thin fabric of her dress, crushing a few of the sequins with his strength. Britta’s breath quickened, her moans muffled by Angelo’s mouth as Jamal’s fingers began to move in rhythmic circles, teasing her clit.

“You’ve been a very good girl,” Angelo murmured against her lips. “Our perfect girl.”

Britta’s eyes fluttered open, her gaze meeting Jamal’s as he smirked, his fingers still working their magic between her legs. She felt lightheaded, her body buzzing with pleasure, as they began to undress her. This felt different; those last foggy memories of her life before floated to the front of her mind, ready to be snatched away. Somehow, she knew, this was it. This final bout of fucking would wipe everything away. She would be Britta fully, with the name Joel and his life nothing but forgotten fog.

She couldn’t wait. 

Angelo slipped the straps of her dress off her shoulders, the fabric pooling at her feet, leaving her standing in nothing but her lace panties and heels. Jamal stepped behind her, his hands sliding around her waist, his fingers tracing the curve of her spine as he unhooked her bra, letting it fall to the floor.

For a moment, they stepped back just to look at her naked body, and Britta felt herself flush with desire. She loved the way they looked at her; Angelo’s gaze devoured her, his eyes dark with hunger, as Jamal stepped closer, his hands gripping her hips, pulling her back against him, careful around her pregnant belly. She could feel the heat of his body, the hardness of his cock pressing against her ass, as Angelo pushed her gently toward the couch.

“Lie down for us, baby,” Angelo commanded. 

Britta did as she was told, her body trembling with anticipation as she stretched out on the soft cushions, her legs spread wide and ready for whichever one wanted to fill her first. Angelo knelt between her thighs, his thick cock already free of his pants, poised at her entrance. He looked down at her, his eyes filled with desire, before sliding slowly into her wet heat.

Britta gasped at the sensation, her nails digging into the couch as Angelo filled her, his cock stretching her tight pussy. He moved slowly at first, savouring the tightness, the warmth enveloping him, before beginning to pound relentlessly. Britta cried out, her head thrown back, her breasts bouncing with each thrust as Angelo fucked her with a primal intensity. Her body was on fire, her orgasm building, her pussy clenching around his cock as he drove into her again and again. Those memories grew foggy as the pleasure erased them, and somehow, it made the ecstasy taste all the sweeter. 

She was ready, ready to be Britta forever and always, ready for the orgasm to take Joel away forever. Just as her orgasm teetered on the edge, Jamal stepped in, his massive cock at the ready. He pulled her to her feet, then gripped her hips, pulling her back against him, as he positioned himself at her tight ass. Britta’s eyes widened as she felt the head of his cock press against her, her body stretching to accommodate him. Jamal thrust forward, sliding into her with a slow, deliberate motion, his cock filling her ass as Angelo continued to pound her pussy.

Britta screamed in delight, her body trembling as she was filled from both ends, her husband’s cocks stretching her holes to the limit. The sensation was overwhelming, her nerves on fire, as Angelo and Jamal moved in perfect sync, their thrusts deep and relentless. The sensations were so much, their cocks fucking her hard and fast, their balls slapping against her, the sound echoing in the room. Britta’s cries filled the air as she got closer and closer. 

Angelo and Jamal were on the edge, their bodies tense, their thrusts becoming more urgent. Britta could feel their cocks swelling inside her, their seed building, as they drove into her with a final, primal thrust. With a roar, they both exploded, filling her pussy and ass with their hot cum. If she wasn’t already pregnant, she would be now. Britta’s body shook, her orgasm crashing over her, waves of pleasure washing through her as she screamed their names.

One name was gone, though. Joel. Britta no longer remembered him, or the genie, or that she had ever been anything but a blonde bimbo. They stood there for a moment, catching their breath. Britta’s legs wobbled; if it weren't for her husbands, she would have fallen to the ground. Angelo kissed her forehead, his lips tender against her skin, and Jamal’s hand stroked her hair.

“You’re amazing, baby,” Angelo whispered.

Britta laughed, a soft, satisfied sound, as she snuggled into Angelo’s chest, Jamal’s arm wrapped around her waist. The room was a mess, their bodies were spent, but in that moment, everything was perfect. She was their bimbo, their wife, their pleasure, and they had given her everything she craved.