Another New Start - a BimboTech Inc. story

by

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Mult, Drunk/Drugged, Humor, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Sex Toys, Size, Transformation, .

Desc: Erotica Sex Story: BTI starts a new office in London.



Based on the BimboTech Inc. universe created by The Sympathetic Devil

Special thanks to Nicole Mounds for her input on how NOT to create a bimbo. I hope I learned from the experience and did it right this time.


Mr. Weeks enjoyed the flight from the States. British Airlines always made the flight as good as flying commercial could be. Unfortunately it now took just as much time as the other airlines; the Concorde stopped flying years ago and British Airways were not using bimbos as flight attendants. The Concorde was too bloody expensive to run and then there was that doomed Air France flight. So, Mr. Weeks flew to London with the masses. The only difference was the people he worked for could afford to send him First Class (Still no bimbo flight attendant though).

The moving sidewalk carried Mr. Weeks to the main terminal where he went through customs. He was concerned for a moment, but the two plastic atomizers that looked like markers passed through without a problem. That was good, because he would have been ill-equipped without them. The pink and blue tubes were vital to his mission. Maybe not the blue, but the Reload would make his time in London more fun. The atomizers contained experimental versions of BTI's popular formulas. They didn't have as strong of an effect, but the effect was instant and was safer to use for multiple doses.

Once through customs, his journey to the Ritz Hotel London went without delay. Again Mr. Weeks enjoyed the luxury of traveling First Class. Mr. Weeks enjoyed the view of Hyde Park for a moment, wondering if the largest city in Europe was ready for an invasion of bimbos. It would certainly change the image of the British as stodgy and cold. He went to sleep thinking of all he had to do tomorrow.


The Limousine dropped Mr. Weeks off at the Estate Agent that BTI had been in contact with by fax and telephone. They were going to drive him around and show him possible buildings that BTI could buy and set up a facility in. The Estate Agent had no idea what BTI wanted the building for and didn't really care, they just wanted to sell property, and they would sell Buckingham Palace to the Saudis if it went on the market. Mr. Weeks was show into the manager's office. He was a non-descript roly-poly man who shook Mr. Weeks' hand as if it was a thrown life line. Mr. Weeks barely noticed. He was staring at the other person in the office, a mousey young brunette with nice tits. Her method of dress was rather formal and concealing, but Mr. Weeks was sure that she was a DD or E cup. The young woman coolly returned his gaze, determined not to be put off by his wandering eyes.

The manager finally let go of Mr. Week's hand and said, "Let me introduce Ms. Lane. She will be the agent who will assist you in buying your new property. She will see that tax registration, utility hook-ups, etc. will be done or any services you may require, she's the girl to see." Ms. Lane gave her boss a look that would curdle fresh milk. He noticed and said, "erm agent to see, I mean."

The young woman stood up and offered her hand for Mr. Weeks to take, "I am Penelope Lane, at your service. My car is just outside and I have set up a tour of four properties for you to look at, the least desirable first. Let us proceed, shall we?" Mr. Week's eyes had never left Ms. Lane's drastically concealed body. No matter what she did, she could not obscure the swell of her gigantic breasts. She tried to ignore his rude gawking at her substantial mounds.

The first building Mr. Weeks did not even enter. It had the look and smell of a place used for shearing sheep. The second building was too small, the third too large. Penelope finally stopped at a building that used to be a medical clinic. Unfortunately the general populace was not ready to dump their family doctors and the clinic had failed. It had been empty less than a year. They got out of the car to inspect the building.

Ms. Lane's face had been getting redder and redder as they drove to the different buildings. Finally she had grown tired of his continuous undressing of her body with his eyes. She whipped out her mobile demanding, "Stop the rude, hungry look at once. I demand courtesy from you, or else I will call my boss and complain about your uncouth American ways and leave you here to fend for yourself." Mr. Weeks actually looked up into her eyes, a smile coming to his lips. Ms. Lane was puzzled by his grin, which allowed Mr. Weeks to pull the pink atomizer from his coat pocket and spray her face. She unconsciously took a breath bringing the Joy gas into her system.

"Why do I have my phone out? Who was I going to call?" Ms. Lane stared at the phone in her hand as if expecting it to answer her. Mr. Weeks' large hand covered the phone in her hands, closing it with a snap.

"I don't think that call was important Penelope. May I call you Penni? The name Penelope is as cumbersome as your clothing, Penni. By the way, aren't you hot, Penni? Perhaps you should unbutton a couple of buttons on your blouse. That will allow your wonderful tits to breathe and not be stifled as much. Also, you should save your longer skirts for winter. You don't want your ankles to get cold. Now follow me while I tour this building.

"Penni, Penelope, Penni? Yes, you're right Mr. Weeks, I like Penni better. It's easier to say and it's cute. giggle Hey wait up, Mr. Weeks, I can't unbutton my blouse and follow you at the same time. How many buttons did you want me to unbutton, anyway?"

"I would enjoy it if you would unbutton them all, but two will do for now, Penni." Mr. Weeks waited until she had unbuttoned two of her top blouse buttons then he proceeded on his inspection. He was jotting down some notes and a rough sketch of the floor plan. They entered the room where electricity came into the building. "Penelope, do you think we can get some electricians in here to do some modifications?" She appeared to be deep in thought as she looked at the door to the room. She grabbed her head and groaned.

"Thinking hurts Mr. Weeks. giggle How big are these elect... elec... erm... elec things anyway? giggle If we can get them in the door, they might fit in here. giggle" Mr. Weeks had a look of disgust on his face.

"Oh, I thought I was talking to Penelope, not Penni. Never mind Penni, please don't hurt yourself by thinking anymore." Penni just giggled, not saying another word, following Mr. Weeks like a lost puppy.

About half an hour later, Penni shook her head and moaned a little. She was sitting in her car. "Where am I? What's happening?"

"You were taking a nap Penni. May I call you Penni? Penelope nodded yes to him. "I think this property will do well, Penni. Please drive me back to my hotel, the Ritz. Once you have done that you can start the paperwork and arrange to have these things", Mr. Weeks handed Penni a hand written list, "at the building first thing in the morning." She dropped him at the hotel and returned to the office. Her coworkers were surprised to see her top two blouse buttons open and to hear her identify herself as "Penni Lane" on the phone."


Penni was wearing a blouse made of lighter material and a skirt that only came to her knees when she picked up Mr. Weeks the next morning. He was pleased to see her wardrobe change and the fact that the top two buttons of her blouse were undone. "You look lovely this morning Penni, how do you feel? Did you sleep well last night?"

Penni answered as she drove to the Estate Office, "I didn't sleep much Mr. Weeks. I kept having disturbing dreams. If you can keep a secret", Mr. Weeks nodded knowing what she was going to say, "OK, I've had hot dreams of... of... of sex. I got so hot I had to take my flannel nightie off. I slept with just a camisole and panties on."

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

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Story tagged with:
Ma/Fa / Mult / Drunk/Drugged / Humor / Oral Sex / Anal Sex / Sex Toys / Size / Transformation /