Gift Certificate

by The Sympathetic Devil

Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Fa/Fa, Mind Control, Science Fiction, Humor, MaleDom, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Transformation, .

Desc: Sex Story: For Valentine's Day, Tracey and Valerie receive gift certificates to a day spa run by BimboTech, Inc.

A Bimbotech Story

"This is going to be so much fun!" said Valerie as they waited for the elevator. "I can't believe the guys actually came up with this idea on their own!"

"Yeah, last Valentine's day I had to drop hints forever that I wanted diamond earrings, and what did Rob get me? Those dangley plastic hearts, the cheap bastard, and a negligee!" said Tracey. "I guess a month without sex taught him to put more thought and more cash into this year's present. At least I hope so. I've never actually heard of this "Pampered Princess" place."

She looked again at the gift certificate from The Pampered Princess Day Spa, good for 'The Works' whatever that entailed.

"Yeah, me neither. But the building is nice enough." Valerie observed. "And if it sucks, we can always leave. It's not like we paid for it."

The two friends giggled at that and the elevator arrived.

"What floor, ladies?" asked the little old elevator operator. The girls were surprised, not aware that there still were such people.

"Uh, Pampered Princess Day Spa?" said Valerie as they stepped in. "Suite 321"

"Oh-ho! Lucky ladies indeed! Pampered Princesses to the 32nd floor!" he exclaimed and punched the button.

They started up.

"So, it's a nice place?" asked Tracey.

"Well, I'll say this: I've never seem a lady leave without a big smile on her face!" he said with a wink.

They arrived on the 32nd floor and the old man held the door open and bowed with a flourish.

"Prepare to be pampered, princesses," he declared.

"God, he was kind of creepy, wasn't he," said Tracey after the doors closed.

"Oh, he's just some old guy trying to make the best of what has to be the most boring job in the world," said Valerie.

"He was staring at your tits the whole time!" Tracey pointed out.

"Well, he wasn't likely to be staring at yours, now was he!" Valerie sniped.

Tracey burned with embarrassed anger. Her lack of development was a sore point and had been since high school when Valerie blossomed into B cups and Tracey's tits gave a little pop and decided they were done. Valerie immediately regretted her words.

"Look, I'm sorry. Let's not fight. Our boyfriends spent a lot of money for us to be pampered and have a nice, relaxing day and there's no one I'd rather spend it with than my best friend."

Tracey sighed and gave a sheepish smiled.

"That's o.k. I just didn't like the old guy," she said.

"Well, maybe he'll be gone by the time we leave," said Valerie. "I don't know what 'The Works' entails, but it better include a really long massage!"

"Oh yeah!" Tracey declared. "By a really hot Scandinavian guy!"

They giggled and proceeded to the spa, gift certificates in hand.

"What the?" exclaimed Valerie when she got to the first door. "BimboTech? What the hell is that? But it says suite 321, just like it does on the gift certificates. God, if this is a joke, Peter is so dead!"

"It can't be," Tracey told her. "The creepy old guy said that Pampered Princesses was on this floor. It must just be a misprint."

The two friends walked down the corridor looking at all the other doors, but every other door was unlabeled and, when they tried them, locked. At last they found themselves in front of the "BimboTech" door again.

"Should we go ask them where Pampered Princesses is? If they misprinted a lot of gift certificates, they probably get this a lot."

"I don't think so. I think i remember my sister mentioning this company. I don't know what they do, but they plastered her college campus with these fliers with a picture of a big-breasted bimbo saying 'A Woman's Place is on her Knees'."

"God, that's horrible!" Valerie exclaimed. "How can they do that! The college should sue! Let's just go back to the lobby and see if they have a directory."

So they returned to the elevator and pushed the call button. They waited and waited. They pushed the button again. And again. They waited with increasing agitation.

"Why the fuck isn't there a stairway:?" Valerie demanded for the third time. "It's against the fucking fire code!"

"It's that old man," said Tracey. "He trapped us up here!"

Valerie put her palm to her forehead in frustration.

"I guess we have to go in there and ask if there's another way down. There must be! This is insane!"

Tracey sighed and agreed. They opened the door labeled "BimboTech Inc." and walked inside. There behind a reception counter was a black woman with enormous fake boobs. She wore a tight mini dress of bright yellow microfiber with a 'neckline' that came closer to her navel than her neck. Big yellow plastic hoops dangled from her earlobes and her lipstick and nail polish matched her outfit. She was filing her nails when the two women entered but she put the file down and gave them a big, stupid, welcoming smile.

"Hi! Welcome to BimboTech! My name's Tittiefuck. How can I help you?"

The two friends stared, aghast. The shock of the woman's appearance and her improbable name for a moment made them forget their plight. Valerie recovered first.

"Look, we just want to get out of here and the elevator's broke. We need another way down."

"But you just got here," the receptionist objected, looking very confused.

"We didn't want to come here at all," Tracey explained impatiently. "We wanted to go to a spa!"

"Oh!" exclaimed the receptionist. "We have a spa here! Are you a pampered princess?"

The girls looked at their gift certificates with dawning disgust.

"Peter is so fucking dead!" said Valerie. "Mark my words, I am going to kick him squarely in the balls."

The receptionist giggled.

"Balls aren't for kicking, silly," she explained. "Balls are for licking! You can learn other things to do with balls at the spa! Hold on a sec and I'll tell Mr. Lorenz you're here.

"Those bastards!" exclaimed Tracey. "Look, you stupid bimbo..."

The inflated woman held a silencing hand and smiled harder as she picked up a big plastic phone and hit one of the brightly colored buttons on her desk.

"Hello Tittiefuck!" came an audible voice from the phone. The huge plastic hoops in her ears kept her from pressing the ear piece close. "What do you have for me?"

"Two Pampered Princesses, sir!" said the black bimbo, eyes dancing between the two outraged girls.

"A pair of princesses! Perfect! Bring them back right away!"

"Mr. Lorenz is ready for your session. Follow me please."

The woman pushed off her consul to balance on her yellow platform sandals with physics defying-grace. Valerie guessed she was just too stupid to know that she should topple over, what with her impossible bosom wobbling madly.

"Fuck this!" said Valerie. "The elevator is bound to stop here eventually."

She turned and strode to the door.

"Ow! Son of a bitch!" she exclaimed and jerked her hand away from the doorknob.

"Valerie! What's wrong? exclaimed Tracy.

"There's a fucking needle on the doorknob! And... and..."

"And what?" Tracey demanded as her friend seemed to wobble on her feet, staring not exactly at her but rather behind her...

"Ow!" Tracey exclaimed and turned to see the bimbo receptionist pulling out the pointy end of a stick from her backside.

"Hehehe!" laughed Valerie and Tracey turned back to her friend with sudden rage.

"It's not funny, Val! That bitch poked me with... with..."

Her head felt funny, like it was stuffed with cotton, like her thoughts were swimming upstream in a river of molasses. It was upsetting for a moment, but once you got used to it, it felt sort of good. Really good, really. Tracey giggled. Valerie giggled. The receptionist giggled.

"That's better, huh?" said Tittiefuck.

The girls grinned at her, not really understanding what she had just said, but not really caring either.

"OK. princesses. Prepare to be pampered!" Tittiefuck exclaimed and, taking them by the hand, lead them to the spa. As she did so, she told them a tongue twister she knew:

"Peter Piper poked a pair of pampered princesses with his polished purple pecker. now you try!"

The girls just giggled at the funny, nice lady whose tits bounced before them and whose bubble butt undulated inside its tight yellow microskirt. She lead them to a red door and pushed its red button. After a moment, the door opened and a small man with a large head stood before them.

"Ah, thank you Tittiefuck! Two pampered princesses properly pricked and pickled. Perfect!" he said. "Candyass! Come here and help Tittiefuck take off our two princesses clothes while I bring up their order forms."

The little man took the gift certificates that Tracy and Valerie still clutched as a blonde woman bounced into view. She wore athletic shoes and hot pink leg warmers, a thong that rode high on her hips and a spandex tube top that struggled to contain the massive melons that were her breasts.

"Hi! I'm Candyass!" she exclaimed, turning briefly to show the peppermint stick tattooed on her flank. "I'll be your jiggle instructor, once you get boobies, to help you be the best bimbos you can be!"

With each syllable, her shoulders jerked slightly, sending shockwaves through her tremendous bosoms, keeping them in near constant, chaotic motion. The drugged girls giggled at this new, strange woman.

Candyass began undressing Valerie while Tittiefuck stripped Tracey. Mr. Lorenz ran the girls' gift certificates through a scanner and pulled up information about them on a computer screen.

.... There is more of this story ...

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