Chapter 10: Bimbos Devour the Senator’s Pussy

Frank Jackman, CEO of BimboTech Chemicals

“There it is,” squealed Becky, her face pressed against the limo’s window, staring ahead.

“There it is,” Alice agreed, her voice a low purr without a hint of bimbo excitement. She had a fresh injection of the intelligence serum flowing through her veins. And since we weren’t flying in an airplane, there wouldn’t be any mishaps like last night.

My wife shifted beside me, her fiery hair cascading around her flushed face, her large breasts stretching the low-cut, lacy bodice of her evening gown. It was dark-green, her hair contrasting with the color. Dark, thigh-high stockings clad her legs crossed before her. The skirt wasn’t as short as her normal wear, but still fell to mid-thigh. When she walked, the top of her stockings would peek out.

All the bimbos wore similar dresses in various hues, their faces made-up to look sultry and hot, their eyes wide with excitement, bubbling smiles on their lips. Senator Delilah Murphy’s gala to raise money for Autism research was tonight. I was looking forward to meeting the senator. I feared she would be an obstacle in getting out the bimbo serum to market, but maybe her speeches were more playing to her base than reflecting her true values.

There was money and beauty to be had. And if not her, there would be other powerful men and women, especially men, at the gala. The rich and powerful of Washington D.C. would be here. And my bimbos would be in circulation, advertising the delightful possibilities the Venus Serum would bring. The more support in Congress and the Senate we had, the better.

“It’s so pretty,” Becca said, the blonde eighteen-year-old bimbo wiggling on her seat, her breasts jiggling. “They have it all lit up. It’s like glowing, Frank. They made stones glow. I didn’t know you could do that.”

“Wooooow,” Veronica cooed, leaning past me to peer out the window at the Smithsonian Museum of Natural History.

The marble columns were lit up by spotlights, making them appear to glow in the darkening evening. A cordon of police officers directed traffic before it, lights flashing from their cruisers. Traffic backed up as limos and town cars queued to drop off their passengers to the party.

I had to admit, I was feeling as excited as the bimbos were acting. Donna clapped her hands together and Janet beamed. Nicole had huge eyes, her breasts rising and falling in her dress so fast I feared she would hyperventilate.

“Now remember,” I said. “You stick with us. Don’t go helping any man with a case of blue balls tonight unless I tell you.”

“But...” Janet said. “Good bimbos help men who are in need. And I’m such a gooood bimbo.”

“Yes,” Nicole said, her hands rubbing her lush thighs.

“And you will,” I grinned. “But when I tell you it’s okay. Most of them will have women who can take care of it if it gets real bad for them. This is a fancy party. You can’t just have sex wherever you want.”

“We won’t, honey,” Donna said, her hands moving to her belly to rub it. I had fired three loads into her pussy today. I couldn’t wait until she was bred. “We’ll be sooooo good and sexy and good.”

“And if you’re bad,” I added, “no orgasms for a week.”

“What?” gasped Becca, her head snapping to me. “A whole week?” She held up her right hand, all fingers spread. “That many days.”

“Add two more,” I said. “A week’s seven days.”

She blinked and counted her fingers, touching them with her left hand. “One, two, three, four, five.” She giggled. “You’re right. Only five fingers.”

“We’ll be good,” Nicole said, her tone solemn, her brown eyes wide.

“We’re always good,” Veronica beamed. “We’re your good wives.”

“And hot wives,” added Janet.

“We are hot, right?” Donna asked.

“Always,” Alice said. “So stick with Frank and me. Only do what we tell you tonight. It’s a game. And you don’t want to lose. Then you won’t get any yummy orgasms.”

“I love winning!” Becca clapped.

“I know you do,” I grinned, taking a deep breath as our limo pulled into the driveway before the Museum, approaching the drop off point. Spotlights danced through the skies. Banners hung on either side of the museum’s grand entrance, proclaiming the name of the event. “Okay. And remember, you’re my mistresses tonight. Right? Not my wives.”

“Because polgummy is not legal,” Nicole nodded. “But it should be.”

“Maybe it will be,” I smiled. The world would change soon.

The limo slowed to a smooth stop. Our driver climbed out and raced around. The door opened. I stepped out first, straightening my suit jacket. I wore a tux for the first time since my wedding, and this one was far nicer. Photographers lining both sides, reporting for various gossip magazines and blogs, took pictures, cameras flashing. I felt like a movie star. I held out my hand, helping Alice, Donna, Veronica, Janet, Becca, and Nicole out of the limo, my bevy of beautiful bimbo-wives crowding around me.

With Alice on my arm, I strode up the stairs, my heart racing with excitement. Alice put on a giggling smile, making her eyes wide. For all the world, she would act as much of a bimbo airhead as the women around me.

“Oh, look, it’s soooo super-duper beautiful, Frank,” she gushed with breathy excitement as we made the top of the stairs and passed through the open doors.

A couple waited to greet people just inside. I recognized Senator Delilah Murphy at once wearing a black evening gown as she turned to greet us. She was a sexier woman than she looked on TV during her campaign adds. She was tall and fit, a mature beauty with bleached-blonde hair and piercing, blue eyes. She filled out her dress beautifully. She would be hot if I wasn’t surrounded by six bimbos.

But she came close.

She stood beside a man in a tux, a polite smile on his lips. Her smile was different. Her eyes were calculating as they studied me. And then they flicked to my wife, eyeing her in the way that women do. Her smile changed as she nodded at us.

“Frank Jackman and your lovely wife, Alice,” she said, her voice twanging with the mid-west accent of Indiana where we lived, though Alice and I were not natives of the state. “And my, oh, my would you look at his guests, Alex.”

I recognized the man now from her campaign ads—her husband. He turned, his eyes widened. His grin was no longer polite but rapacious as he looked up and down my women. “That is quite the escort you have, Mr. Jackman. I wouldn’t have expected the CEO of a chemical company to travel like a rock star.”

“Just my lovely assistants,” I grinned. “They’re helping me show off our new revolutionary beauty product we’re hoping to bring to market in six months. It will change cosmetics forever.”

“Well, whatever they are using, it is working.”

“Indeed,” his wife answered, her voice both brittle and hot.

“Thank you for inviting us,” Alice gushed. She broke away, gave an excited squeal, and hugged Delilah like they were old, bosom friends. My wife’s hips shook back and forth as she rocked the woman, their breasts crushed together. Delilah blinked, then returned the hug, her eyes closing for a moment, her cheeks growing with a touch of color. “Oh, this is just amazing. Just the most super-duper amazing party I’ve ever been to. Right, Frank?”

“Certainly,” I nodded.

My wife broke away.

Delilah took a deep breath, then she glanced at the bimbos. “So, this product, what does it do?”

“It makes us into bimbos,” Becca said. “See how sexy we are. And how big our boobs are.”

“I was so fat and dumpy before,” Donna said. “But now I’m so much more sexy and beautiful and hot and yummy.”

“And happy,” Veronica added. “I was so unhappy before. Just all mean and nasty because I was so ugly. And now...” She clapped her hands. “I’m so hot. Aren’t I, Frank?”

“Very hot,” I agreed.

The Senator’s eyes narrowed. “You’re ... Veronica Beigh, right. The former president of BT Chemicals.”

“Then I made Frank president and he made me like this! Isn’t it super-duper awesome. Frank is super smart. I was such a dumdum for firing him.”

The senator’s husband blinked. “You’re Veronica Beigh?” His jaw dropped. “Jesus, that’s a change. Just what is this product?”

“Something that will change the world,” I said. “Every woman will want it.”

“It improvised me!” Alice giggled. “I used to be so fat. Like this fat!” She spread her arms wide. “And now look at me.”

The senator’s husband did. A surge of pride shot through me. No man had a hotter wife than me. And no man had five more just as sexy.

“I’m the most beautifulest woman now,” Alice continued, doing a great imitation of her bimbo self. “And it’s all thanks to my super smart sciency husband.” She threw her arms about my neck and gave me a hot, enthusiastic kiss, her body pressed tight, her tongue wiggling hot.

My dick throbbed in my boxers. Part of me wanted to hike up her dress and fuck her right here and now. We had grown so used to our own domain at BT Chemical where we could do whatever we wanted.

But we were in public.

People were watching us, especially the older, powerful men of Washington D.C., staring at my women with hungry eyes, glancing at their wives, girlfriends, or paid escorts for the evening and realizing they didn’t quite stack up to a bimbo.

“Isn’t he just the bestest husband?” Alice beamed when she broke the kiss, pressing up against me. “He improvised me into a hottie.”

I smiled. “Just giving my Alice what she always wanted. And hoping to help other women insecure about their appearance.”

“I can see that,” nodded the senator’s husband.

“Yes, it is ... interesting,” Delilah said, her eyes hardening on me. No, she did not approve one bit. Well, there were plenty of others who would. “Enjoy the party, Mr. Jackman.”

“I will,” I grinned and led my bimbos into the gala.

Lights shone down from above, but not as bright as this place would be lit during the day. The exhibits were all in shadows, and it had a deeply, romantic feel about it. A string quartet provided the music and waiters, male and female both, moved through the room in black slacks, white dress shirts, and black bow ties, their hair slicked back and conservative. There were no extra piercings or visible tattoos or strange hair colors on any of them.

“Delilah is gay or bi,” Alice murmured as I snagged two flutes of champagne, handing one off to my wife. “The way she hugged me. The way she looked at me ... Oh, she wanted me and the other bimbos.”

“Really?” I blinked. “But she’s always talking in her campaign ads about how happily married she is to what’s his name.”

“Politicians lie, Frank,” she said then sipped her champagne. She looked so elegant as she did it.

“Right,” I nodded. “Foolish of me to forget that fact.”

“Very foolish,” she agreed.

“So, you think we can use it?” I asked.

“She has the look of a woman that takes what she wants. And she wanted me and the other bimbos.”

I glanced around the gala, nodding to people as we moved through the room, our bimbos still moving around us, gushing and cooing and giggling as they sipped at their champagne and nibbled on horderves. I looked past the other guests, the women in their gorgeous gowns, and spotted a dark wing with a velvet rope over it, a sign saying no guests. Above it was another sign proclaiming the name of the exhibit.

“Sex and Archeology,” I murmured.

“What?” Alice frowned.

“The closed off exhibit.” I nodded towards it as I spoke. “I’ve heard about it. Supposed to have stone age dildos and sex toys found in excavated convents. That sort of thing.”

“Naughty nuns,” she giggled.

“The perfect exhibit for curious bimbos to poke into without understanding they shouldn’t be in there. Alone. Maybe the woman who threw the party will want to chaperon.”

“There’ll be a guard,” Alice said. “I’m sure Becca will keep him entertained.”

“And have fun doing it,” I grinned. There were men watching me, nodding to me. “I think the powerful want to talk. Take Becca and another of the bimbos with you, and I’ll introduce the rest to the rich and powerful.”

“Have fun,” she husked and kissed me on the cheek. Then, in a girlish voice, “Oh, look, Becca and Janet, sex!”

She snagged the pairs’ hands and the trio of giggling women moved across the floor. Veronica, Donna, and Nicole pressed up around me as I headed towards a few powerful Senators I recognized from TV, their eyes burning with interest as they stared at my bimbos.

Delilah Murphy, Senator of the Great State of Indiana

“He brought them all,” Magnolia Savage hissed when she walked over to me, her own bimbo on her arm. “An entire harem of the poor things.”

“Indeed he did,” I said, trying to maintain my outrage. It was so hard. All six of Frank’s bimbos were spectacular. Beautiful and busty and just as yummy as my Natasha. I wished I could parade mine in public with such brazen disregard as he did.

But he made his wife one. And the other women, probably without their consent. He was just as disgusting as I thought. I would relish stripping the bimbo serum from him.

“I hope you are still committed,” Magnolia said.

“Always.” I gave her a look, eyes narrowing. “What makes you think I’m not?”

“Politics are politics,” Magnolia said. “You never can be too sure these days.”

“I just met his wife. He made her into one of those.” My eyes flicked to Annalee as she gawked at an exhibit towering over us, her large tits bouncing in her dress. Of course, she too used to be a regular woman, an enemy of Magnolia on her company’s board of directors. Magnolia had gotten her hands on the bimbo serum from a spy at BT Chemicals and used it on the poor Annalee. “If he could do that to someone he loves, he’ll destroy the world.” Then she let out a retching sound. “And look at that. There are Democrats circling his women like sharks. Not just those Neanderthal Republicans.”

I chose not to comment that the difference between most politicians was who they turned to for support. Republicans and Democrats were far more similar to each other than they like to pretend in public. Compromise broke everyone’s backs in DC.

Even mine.

“And your beard is drooling over them, too,” Magnolia scathed.

“Alex is a virile man,” I answered, glancing at my husband. “He has two mistresses I know about.” That was a fear of mine, that he would be too lax in hiding his mistresses. There had been a close pregnancy scare with one of them two years ago. “He can ogle any bimbos he wants.”

“I expect that bimbo I pointed you towards will be testifying soon.”

“Soon,” I smiled. Natasha was in my secret penthouse, masturbating with her new sex toy. I burned to bring her here. She was intoxicating. “The committee meets in a month. I’ll bring it up then.”

“I’m sure you will,” scathed Magnolia. Then she grabbed her bimbo and stalked off.

She was such an acerbic woman. If she wasn’t so great in bed and knew just the sort of women to bring me, I wouldn’t tolerate her. Worse, I needed her. The bimbo serum was very intriguing, and she owned a cosmetics company. I just needed to make sure it wasn’t in the hands of a man like Frank Jackman. He turned his own wife into his eager bimbo slut.

Monster.

Alice’s vibrant, red hair stood out as she walked across the room, arms hooked with two more bimbos. The trio giggled, pointing towards the closed off sex exhibit. They were making a beeline towards it.

Knowing bimbos, the word sex had them thinking they would actually get laid in there. They reached the velvety ropes, ducking beneath and moving deeper. There would be a security guard. A young man.

He wouldn’t resist when they started flirting with him.

I needed to keep an eye on those three. Make sure they didn’t get into trouble. Escort them in the closed off hall. Such a private place. Luckily, I knew a different way back there. It was my event, so I had access to the support hallways.

I headed for one, a hot thrill racing through my pussy.

Alice Jackman, Chief Research Scientist of BimboTech Chemicals

I grabbed the velvet rope, excitement bubbling through me. Even though I was only pretending to be a bimbo, that giddy, warm exhilaration bubbled through me. If Senator Delilah Murphy, champion of family values, not only cheated on her husband but was a lesbian, it would be perfect. If I could turn her into an ally, get her eager for the possibilities that the bimbo serum would provide...

“This is so naughty,” Becca giggled. “We’re being bad, Alice.”

“But Frank and I say it’s okay to be bad right now,” I grinned at her as the blonde girl ducked under the velvet rope. Her big tits swayed, almost falling out of her top.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to be going in there,” a nasally voiced woman said.

I grinned at her. “We’re bimbos. Look at how hot we are. We can do what we want.”

“Yep,” giggled Janet. “So long as our husband says so.” Then my busty best friend ducked under.

The woman stared at us in shock. She was a pretty enough woman. “If you want to be like us, wait until the Venus Serum comes out. Then you can be just as naughty, and just as hot, as we are.”

Then I ducked beneath, the velvet rope swinging behind me. Janet and Becca, both giggling almost out of control, pressed their curvy bodies against me. My pussy clenched, juices dripping down my thighs as I led us deeper. I was so horny. And there were dildos in there.

I wondered how ancient dildos stacked up to modern ones.

We moved down the dark hallway, the sounds of the party growing softer and softer. There was another set of doors. I gasped as a guard rose out of the darkness from the chair he was sitting on. He wore a blazer, maybe blue or black, I couldn’t say in the dark. He was tall and fit and young, holding his hand up.

“I’m sorry, Ladies, this area is off limits.”

“What?” I pouted, staring at the doors. “But we want to see the dildos.”

“We looooooove sex toys,” Janet purred. “Just adore them.”

“They make our pussies cum and cum,” Becca giggled, bouncing beside me.

That drew the guard’s attention to her big, heaving breasts.

He cleared his throat. “Still, parties that way. You’ll have to find dildos to play with somewhere else.”

“Oh, that’s no fun,” I pouted as I placed my hand on the small of Becca’s back. “Can’t we do anything to persuade you to let us through.”

He swallowed, eyes flicking across her cleavage. “Sorry. Off-limits.”

I pushed Becca forward. “Whoops. She’s so clumsy.”

Becca, giggling, fell into the guard, her arms slipping around his neck. She pressed her curvy body against his, wiggling and grinding on him as she stared up at his handsome face. He had his hands out to the side, like he was afraid of touching her.

Probably afraid of someone crying out sexual assault on him.

“Oh, my, you caught me,” Becca giggled. “I’m such a ditzy girl. My boobs are just so big. Do you think they’re too big?”

“No,” he groaned.

“No, because you like my big boobies.” She gave a happy squeal. “I can tell. You’re getting so hard. Ooh, yes. I bet you must be in so much dis ... discom ... pain!.”

“Ma’am,” he said.

“Ma’am, that’s not my name, silly.” Becca giggled. “It’s Becca. Don’t you know that?”

“How could I know that. We’ve never met?”

“But...” Her eyes were so wide wife confusion. “How could you not know my name? I’m such a hottie. Can’t you tell? Feel my boobs. Or my ass.”

“Ma’am.”

“Becca,” she gasped, sound offended, her voice rising an octave. “And you’re not feeling me. Go on, touch me.”

“This isn’t appropriate ... Becca.”

“How hard is he?” I asked, my body on fire. Watching the guard squirm was so exciting.

“He’s sooooo hard, Alice.” Then Becca let out a gasp. “Oh, no, he must be in so much pain.”

“You should help him.”