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.
"God, why do smart girls wear so much clothes?" Tittiefuck exclaimed as she struggled with the unresisting Tracey's resisting bra.
"It's to hide their ugly little titties, I think," said Candyass. "When my boobies were small, I wore a lot of clothes too. Mr. Lorenz will help them, though, and then they'll be all better!"
"Goodie!" exclaimed Tittiefuck, and she triumphed over the brassier...
"All righty, then!" exclaimed Mr. Lorenz once the girls were naked. "Everything seems to be in order. The gentlemen have basic tastes. The brunette is down for a bit more packing in the rear than usual, but that's easily accommodated. Thank you for your help, Tittiefuck. Back to the waiting room with you now."
He slapped the black bimbo's backside and sent her giggling and jiggling back out the door.
"Candyass, help me get our two princesses into the morphing chambers while they're still in LaLa land. We'll fix up their bodies before I get to work on their minds.
The man and the bimbo took the girls to a row of odd benches and with gentle direction positioned them face down on two of them. There were holes in them for their faces, breasts, and pussies. It was quite comfortable and the drugged girls sighed contentment and barely stirred as greased tubes were snaked up their asses, down their throats, and between their labia.
Walls rose up with the hum of a hidden motor to form a tank around each girl and then a thick, warm green fluid filled the tanks. The girls were able to breath comfortably immersed in the fluid, but in their drugged state this didn't seem odd to them. The drug was slowly working out of their systems, though, and an occasional thought made it through the molasses of their minds. Tracey imagined that they were in a real spa, lying on massage tables getting their anticipated rubdown. Indeed, it felt like dozens of strong, gentle hands were kneading their muscles, rubbing their skin, drawing out every bit of tension. Several of their body parts began to tingle: breasts, butt, pussy, mouth, head. It was strange but nice. the girls sighed and large bubbles meandered through the green liquid to burst at the surface.
Time meant nothing, but eventually the green stuff drained away and Candyass and Mr. Lorenz helped the girls stand and lead them to the shower. The warm, cleansing water ran across the girls, awakening their sluggish brains. As they blinked away the green stuff, each friend stared in amazement at the other.
"Oh my God, Tracey! Your boobs: They're huge!"
And they were, massive and melon-shaped, jutting out proudly.
"So are yours!" said Tracey, for Valerie's breasts were equally large, though more natural looking, sagging under their pendulous weight. Where Tracey's butt had been only slightly rounded out, Valerie's had been padded nearly as much as her chest.
Valerie looked down at her huge, hanging tits and her eyes popped. She reached up to touch them and her eyes got wider.
"Oh my god! They're so big ! And so... so..."
"Yeah," agreed Tracey, who was holding her own inflated breasts, their nipples hard between her fingers. It was once again becoming hard to think, but it was different than it had been with the drug. The mind-numbing pleasure was much less passive. The overwhelming sensations that came as they fondled their own breasts drove them to continue to fondle them, creating a positive feedback loop of frenzied arousal and pleasure.
One of Tracey's hands left her breast and headed south.
"Oh God!" she exclaimed. "Oh Valerie! Try your clit! It's incredible!"
Valerie's hand went for her crotch but then she stopped. Someone had giggled. She looked up to see Candyass and Mr. Lorenz enjoying their shower show: the bimbo with vacuous delight, the creep with a self-satisfied leer. With horror, she came back to herself.
"Tracey--stop! Don't touch yourself! It's a trap!"
"But it feeeels sooooo goooo... goooo... goooo... Oh God Yes!" said Tracey as she was hit with the biggest orgasm of her life.
"No!" cried Valerie, grabbing for her friend's diddling hand. She misjudged the size of their new hooters, however, and the huge tits collided. sending ripples of distracting pleasure to Valerie's brain. What was worse, as she grabbed again for Tracey's masturbating hand, her friend tried to push her away with the other hand and instead latched on to a engorged nipple.
"Ooooh!" cried Valerie. "Tracey stop! We can't... we can't... oh god that's so nice but..."
"But nothing," said a masculine voice from behind her as Mr. Lorenz hand snaked around to diddle her clit. "You think to much Valerie. It feels nice. Go with it."
Thought fled as Valerie's clitoris declared its dominance over her brain and she melted into the man that manipulated it. The water had shut off and warm streams of air blew the girls dry and puffed up their hair. Tracey's was a long wild platinum, while Valerie's was heavily frosted with dark roots.
Valerie was vaguely aware that the bimbo had grabbed Tracey at the same time her boss had grabbed her and that they should both be trying to get away, but her knees were weak and her thoughts were gooey and she stumbled and staggered where the man directed her, oblivious as she and Tracey were strapped into chairs a few paces apart.
Once the girls were strapped into their chairs, they at last stopped diddling them and, panting, Valerie and Tracey were once again able to think somewhat straight. They struggled against the straps but to no avail.
"You can't do this!" declared Valerie. "This is kidnapping! And assault! And half a dozen other felonies as well! I work with lawyers and not only are you going to jail, I'm going to sue you and your company for every penny you've got! You'd better let us go now and get us to a hospital quick to fix whatever you've done to us and maybe you'll be able to negotiate a plea bargain that will get you out before you're 80!"
"You're going to sue us? Oh my!" exclaimed Mr. Lorenz. "I'm afraid you're going to have to wait your turn. Candyass filed suit against us first."
"I did?" asked the blonde bimbo, confused.
"Yes! Just before the hostile takeover. You were suing me and the company for sexual harassment. You said you were denied promotion because you wouldn't suck my cock."
Candyass laughed at the absurdity.
"But I suck your cock all the time!" she pointed out.
"Hmmm. Maybe that's why you never pursued the case. Well, that and your attorney decided to become a lap dancer."
"Can I suck your dick now?" she asked hopefully.
"No, but you can eat Valerie's cunt while I work on Tracey," he said.
"Yay!" " exclaimed the bimbo, bounding towards the bound brunette.
"No!" exclaimed Valerie as she dived for her muff. "Don't! Stop! DoooooOhOhOh... Sto-aw-awwwwp! Dooooooooooooh St-ah-hah-hah-hah!"
Valerie squirmed in her chair, her eyes rolled up in her head and she shuddered as Candyass lapped at her turbo-charged twat.
"Don't stop!" she begged. "Don't stop!"
She was oblivious to everything but the practiced cunilinguas of the bimbo between her knees. Tracey stared in horror at her willful friend instantly reduced to a mess of saporal lust. The horror was compounded by how turned on she was getting by watching the whole scene. Her own pussy twitched in jealousy at Valerie's molestation. She was so distracted by Valerie's plight and her own reactions to it that she hardly noticed when Mr. Lorenz flipped a switch on her own chair and a low hum began in the base of her skull. The scene before her seemed to go flat and her brain started to buzz like her feet did when she crossed her legs too long. She crossed her eyes. It didn't help, but she left them crossed anyway.
"Valerie is such a slut, isn't she Tracey?" asked Mr... Lorenz.
What was that? That wasn't right, was it?
"No," objected Tracey. "She's not a slut. You did something to her, to us..."
"Well, yes, I did do a few things to you., but still, she's obviously enjoying that bimbo eat her out and she just barely met her. Don';t you think a girl who would have oral sex with someone she just met is a slut? I'm not judging her or anything. It's just a matter of definitions. Calling something by the right name. Don't you agree? Don't you agree that someone who enjoys oral sex with a stranger is, by definition, a slut?
Tracey couldn't deny that.
"Well, yes..." said Tracey and there was a bright explosion of happy rainbows and twinkley stars in her brain.
"Whoa..." she exclaimed.
"Yes, but back to Valerie. You just admitted that she's a slut, right?"
"Huh? Well, um not really. I mean... What was that?"
"Nothing much. But you do agree that Valerie is doing something that a slut would do, right?"
"Well, yes, bu..."
Stars and rainbows.
"So Valerie is a slut."
"Huh? Oh yes..."
Stars and rainbows.
"Say it for me, will you? Valerie is a slut..."
"Valerie's a slut!" Tracey declared and once again her brain exploded in delight. It was stronger this time.
"Oh yes! Oh yes! Oh God Yes!" exclaimed Valerie.
So it wasn't really a betrayal. Valerie herself admitted it. Or maybe her exclamation was the result of Candyass reaching up to strum her nipples as she sucked her clit.
"But what about you, Tracey?" Mr. Lorenz asked. "You let Candyass fondle you and you let us strap you naked to a chair. Don't you think that maybe that makes you a slut too?"
"Me?" she balked. "Non, I'm not... I just..."
"You're just getting off on watching a bimbo eat your friend's cunt. Sounds to me like you're a slut. And a pervert to boot.
Tracey was confused.
"Me... I... I..."
"Let me put it this way," said Mr. Lorenz. "Say that I was to take a big black dildo like this one and shove it in your cunt. Would you enjoy that?"
"Oh god! Oh god! Oh fuck yes!" said Tracey as the man did precisely that, shoving the black rod into her sodden twat.
"You enjoy this, right?" prompted Mr. Lorenz.
"Yes! Yes! Oh yes!" exclaimed Tracey and the stars and rainbows were back to join the chorus of her singing cunt.
"And that makes you a slut, right?" continued Mr. Lorenz with inevitable logic.
"YES!" declared Tracey and the stars got brighter, the rainbows more colorful.
"Say Traci is a slut," urged Mr. Lorenz.
"Traci is a slut!" Traci cried. "Traci is a fucking slut!"
The entire pantheon of lucky charms marshmallows exploded in her brain and she came like never before.
Panting, Traci blinked and smiled. She looked at Mr. Lorenz smiling back. She giggled. It felt so good to agree with him. She hoped he would tell her more things that she could agree with.
"That's good, Traci," he praised. "Very, very good. You're a happy little bimbo now, aren't you?"
"Yes! I'm a happy little bimbo!" she declared, and her brain rewarded her. Why had she ever tried to disagree with this man? He was so smart! He understood so much about her! She was a happy little bimbo.
"You will enjoy your new life, won't you Traci? You were so sad before, with your tiny titties and your hard thinking... Now you have a pretty, sexy body and all you have to think about is being pretty and sexy and fucking. You love fucking don't you Traci?"
"Traci loves fucking!" Traci agreed. "Traci is a slut!"
"Good, Traci! Good!" he praised.
"You'd do anything for your boyfriend wouldn't you Traci? he continued. "After all, he's the one that gave you this nice present--making you a bimbo, just like you always wanted to be."
"Uh-huh!" Traci agreed.
Mr. Lorenz continued, telling her all sorts of things that she hadn't known about herself but was happy to learn. The happy stars and rainbows were always there now, and she could see them whenever she closed her eyes.
"All right now, Candyass. I think Valerie has had enough for now," said Mr. Lorenz, patting the sticky-faced bimbo's head.
Valerie panted and shivered as the blonde woman stopped torturing her with pleasure. She blinked, trying to focus, and at last recognized the patiently waiting Mr. Lorenz and her bimbofied best friend beside him, smiling broadly and unbound.
"Tracey!" What, what happened?" she asked.
"Candyass ate your pretty pussy," explained Traci. "You're such a slut."
"What? God, Tracey, how can you say that?"
"It's o.k. I'm a slut too. Mr. Lorenz 'splained it to me. I can lick your pussy later if you want."
"Oh God, Tracey!" exclaimed Valerie. "What have they done to you! They've turned you into a bimbo!"
"I know! Isn't it cool? They gave me big boobies an everything!"
"No, Tracey. They did something t your brain! This isn't you! You're a smart, independent woman!"
Tracey giggled all the harder.
"No I'm not, silly! Mr. Lorenz 'splained it to me--I'm a horny little bimboslut! I'm good for fucking and for looking at! I don't like to think to hard cuz it makes guys not want to fuck me. I like to fuck a lot!"
"Oh God!" Valerie sobbed. "You have to fight this!"
"Why?" asked Traci with wide-eyed confusion. "I always wanted to be a bimbo!"
"And you're going to make a great one!" Mr. Lorenz affirmed. "You go with Candyass and she will get you some real bimbo clothes! You can ask her all about being a bimboslut--she's a real pro!"
Candyass blushed at the compliment.
"I'll stay here and explain a few things to Valerie. She seems a bit confused."
"O.K.," agreed Traci and followed the senior bimbo away from her constrained friend.
"Tracey, no!" cried Valerie. "Don't... Don't leave me alone..."