Chapter 7: Bimbo Pussy Suppository

Delilah Murphy, Senator of the Great State of Indiana

I shivered when I walked out of the nasty, disgusting trailer with Natasha. The implications of what I had just done struck me. I had bought a human being. I paid $10,000 up front with the promise of another $10,000 for the busty, brunette bimbo beside me, a huge, ecstatic grin on her face.

“I’m a lesbian now!” she shouted out to the trailer park. It was a rundown, white-trash neighborhood, two streets of overgrown lawn, rusting cars, and filthy gutters. It matched Natasha’s pig of a husband who had agreed to sell her to me. The bastard had her tied to a bed, a vibrator shoved into her pussy, because he couldn’t control her new, sexual appetites.

Asshole.

But I knew Natasha would be happy with me. I would take care of her, treat her right, love her. My pussy clenched as I stared at her big tits bouncing beneath the tight shirt she wore. It was one of her old ones from before her change. Her breasts had grown so big that, despite how skinny she was now compared to before she became a bimbo, the fabric stretched tight to those bouncing melons.

God, I would love her so much.

The bimbo serum was amazing. I couldn’t wait to have an entire harem of busty women like Natasha to love. I would stash them in my own secret love nest. No one could ever know. I was taking such a risk. I was the Senator for Indiana, and while my supporters were liberal, they weren’t liberal enough to vote for a lesbian. So I had the husband, the two children, the house, and the white-picket fence to fool them all for power.

And I wanted more power. This bimbo serum was power. But it had to be controlled by the right party. And right now, it wasn’t. Frank Jackman, the new CEO of BT Chemicals, had invented this serum with his wife, who was now a dumb bimbo. A man like that, who would turn his own wife into one of these airheads as well as a random woman who worked at a supermarket, could not be trusted.

He would abuse it. Make women slaves to pigs like Natasha’s husband.

Magnolia Savage, CEO of Femme Allure, a makeup company, had brought to my attention the bimbo serum’s existence. She wanted it for her own company to produce. She was a lesbian feminist, like me, and would make sure the product wasn’t abused.

Hopefully.

Rumor had it, Director Steffen, heading the FDA’s Center for Food Safety and Applied Nutrition, was in Indiana last night attending a party Frank had thrown. I was certain that on Monday, the “Venus Serum,” as Frank called the product to hide what it really was, would be fast-tracked for FDA approval. In six months, it could be on the market. And women, eager to be beautiful, would buy it no matter the cost or the side-effect.

And that couldn’t happened. It couldn’t be sold so recklessly.

Natasha was part of how I would stop Frank. I would paint her as a victim. A normal woman, turned into a bimbo against her will, kicked out of her house by a husband that didn’t like her new-found ditziness and extreme sex drive. I would coach her, make her say the right things, and then have reporters friendly to feminism write hit pieces against Frank and BT Chemicals.

Just thinking about it made me so wet.

“I’m a lesbian,” Natasha said again, clinging to my arm. “This is my lesbian wife! She owns me!”

“Shush,” I told her, my insides going cold. I looked around the neighborhood. A few people were watching us. It wasn’t often that an expensive, black town car came into such a shithole. No, it never happened. “You can’t tell people that. It’s our secret. We’re secret lesbians. Now isn’t that a fun game?”

“Oh, wow,” she said, her nipples poking at the front of her t-shirt. Her hips, clad in baggy sweatpants that kept slipping off her waist, wiggled.

They fell down, exposing her shaved pussy before I hauled them back up.

“That does sound fun,” then, in an exaggerated whisper, she added, “My lesbian wife.”

“You like calling me that, huh?” I asked.

“Yeppers”, she nodded.

I hurried her to the town car where my driver and assistant, George, waited. He was a man I could trust. And not just because he was gay. I paid him well, treated him right, and ensured he would have no reason to betray my secrets.

“You are being reckless, Delilah,” he said as I pushed Natasha into the car.

“I am,” I shivered. “But you see what the bimbo serum is capable of.”

“And you’re risking your political career. If someone is filming us right now on a cell phone...”

I shivered and then ducked into the car. “It had to be taken. Frank can’t be allowed to bring this serum to market.”

He nodded and closed the door.

“I’m your lesbian wife!” Natasha beamed. She ripped off her shirt, those huge tits bouncing as she squirmed on the wide, leather seat. It was roomy in the back. My pussy clenched as I stared at her breasts.

God, I had such a weakness for big, soft breasts. And brunettes ... Natasha was perfect.

“Yes, you’re my lesbian wife,” I told her. “You have to do what I say all the time. And if you do, I will give you such pleasure.”

“Yay,” she nodded, clapping her hands together. “A wife should always be obedient to her husband. Or wife!” She giggled. “Oh, it’s so strange being a lesbian.”

“You’ll adjust,” I told her. “First lesson, lesbians love eating their wives asses out.”

“Really?” Natasha blinked.

I turned and knelt on my hands and knees on the car seat, my face pressed against the tinted windows. I ignored the passing poverty as I wiggled my hips. “I’m a senator. You know what that is?”

“Someone who makes laws at the law factory,” she giggled.

I groaned at how stupid that sounded. “Yes, basically. And since I make laws, I’m telling you it is a law that you like licking my ass and will do it whenever I want.”

“Wow. And I have to be a good person and obey all the laws. So I must like licking your ass.”

“Uh-huh,” I groaned, my pussy clenching. My satin panties were soaked. “So get to it! Start licking my ass. I need it.”

“Is your pussy all itchy and scratchy and achy to be touched and licked and fucked?”

“God, yes!”

“Mine, too!” She moved behind me. “All the time. It just needs to be played with. Ooh, I love cumming. It’s so yummy and goody and warm! Like the best buttermilk biscuit ever.”

Her hands grabbed my skirt, pushing it up over my ass, exposing my panties. I groaned as her finger stroked the gusset, pressing the smooth cloth into my wet pussy. I shivered, pleasure racing through me.

“Oh, no, you stained your panties! I can’t wear panties any longer. I stain them with my naughty juices.”

“Better pull them off before they’re ruined,” I panted. “Then lick my ass.”

“Right, the law!”

She ripped my panties down my thighs, spread my butt-cheeks, and buried her face between them. Her tongue licked with aggressive, hungry passion. I groaned. I loved having my ass licked. It was the best. Tingles shivered through me, my pussy clenching, as her tongue rimmed my asshole, swirling, teasing, caressing.

My breath exploded out of me as her tongue probed into my asshole, teasing me. My eyes rolled into my head. She swirled her tongue around the insides of my bowels. My pussy clenched. My fingers clawed at the leather seat, nails rasping. I didn’t care if I broke one.

“Yes, yes, yes, that’s how you lick your wife’s ass,” I moaned. “Oh, yes. Rub my pussy while you do it!”

“Mmm, yes,” she moaned. “It’s so sour, but I have to like it. It’s the law. So I do!”

She jammed her tongue deep into my asshole with such enthusiasm. She swirled it around, teasing me. I squirmed then gasped. Her fingers pumped into my pussy. Two of them, reaming into my depths as she ate my ass.

Pleasure rippled through me, stirred by her plunging fingers and swirling tongue. I groaned, my eyes rolling back into my head. I rocked on the seat. The sweet friction from her fingers reaming my pussy met the delight churned by her tongue probing my asshole.

Her fingers pumped faster and faster. She moaned, enjoying it. Whether Natasha really loved the flavor of my sour asshole or that she believed she loved it because of my “law” really didn’t matter. It just mattered that she devoured it. My pussy clenched on her fingers, the pleasure building and building.

“Yes, yes, yes, I love that,” I moaned. “Oh, you’re going to be the best lesbian wife ever.”

“Really,” she said, such hopeful joy in her eyes.

My heart raced faster and faster. “Really,” I answered. “The best.”

Her happy squeal followed by her lips latching onto my asshole and sucking sent a wave of heat through me. God, she was so sweet. I shivered, shuddered, aching for her wonderful touch. This bimbo was delightful. I felt so dizzy, so intoxicated. And not just from her fingers and tongue.

My asshole clenched on her probing tongue as I groaned. Was I falling in love with this delicious creature? She was so happy to please me, to love me. Taking such joy in our love-making. I shivered, wiggling my hips.

“Yes, yes, yes, I love you, my naughty lesbian wife! Love you!” I moaned, not sure if I meant those words.

But she loved hearing them.

“Delilah!” she gasped. “I love you, too. Pete never said he loved me. He just loved my body.”

“He was a pig. Now make me cum!”

“Yes,” she moaned, slipping a third finger into my pussy as she jammed her tongue into my asshole.

It was all too much. I groaned, shivering, my pussy clenching down on her thrusting fingers. I moaned out my bliss. My asshole spasmed on her tongue, my cunt writhing on her fingers. Her tongue and digits probed into my holes, swirling, caressing, the friction shooing through me.

Pleasure crashed inside of me. Great, wonderful waves surged through my body. The black-tinted window fogged before me as I moaned out my bliss. I humped back into her, my pussy and asshole greedy, drinking in all her sensations.

“You’re just wonderful. Oh, yes, Natasha, you’re making me cum! I love it! I love you!”

“Yes, yes, yes,” she gasped, frigging me. “Oh, I’m so happy. Isn’t cumming the best? All gooey and warm and yummy!”

“Buttermilk biscuits,” I moaned.

“Yes!” she moaned. “I need to cum, too!”

“Have you ever used a strap-on?”

“You mean dyke-cocks?” she asked. “That’s what Pete called them. He’d say: ‘Them dumb dykes say they don’t need men, but then why do they strap-on them dyke-cocks and fuck each other?’”

“God, he’s a jackass,” I moaned. “Down on the floor is a black bag. Put on the narrow, black one. Lube it with the bottle, and then fuck my ass. You’ll love it. The base pushes on your clit and makes you cum, too.”

“Yay,” she gasped. Then paused. “But husbands do the fucking. I’m your lesbian wife.”

“I’m not your husband,” I groaned. “I’m your wife. And when you have two women who are each other’s wives, they take turns doing the fucking.”

“Wow. I’m learning so much about being a dyke.” She clapped her hands together. “This is sooooo much fun. And your ass must be special-wecial like mine.”

“Sure,” I groaned, my pussy clenching, my asshole throbbing. I loved anal sex. It was the best. “Hurry and strap-on. I’m sooooo horny.”

“Yes, Delilah.”

She rummaged around back there. It took her a few minutes to figure out how to put on the strap-on. “No, honey,” I had to explain, “the dildo needs to be thrusting from your pussy not your ass. Like a man’s cock.”

“Right,” she had laughed and took it off.

Soon, she was harnessed in, the narrow, black dildo glistening with lube. She grabbed my butt-cheeks, parting them, exposing my tingling sphincter. I groaned as she brought the dildo to it, rubbing it on my puckered opening.

“Fuck me!” I moaned.

And she did.

Hard.

Natasha didn’t hesitate to thrust her hips with every ounce of strength she could. The dildo slid deep into my bowels. Hot friction burst through me. My head snapped up. I gasped in pure delight as my asshole clenched down on the lubed cock.

Then she pulled back and thrust in again, her large tits bouncing and slapping together. I threw a look over my shoulder, my eyes widening at the hot sight of those big, pillowy tits slapping and smacking together, jiggling, rippling. Her fat nipples waved. Her face contorted with pleasure.

“I’m fucking you,” she moaned. “I’m fucking you with my dyke-cock!”

“Yes, yes, yes,” I gasped. “Oh, fuck my ass!”

“Your special-wecial ass,” she gasped, her eyes widening. “Oh, Delilah, it’s pressing on my little clitty. It’s making it all tingle and ache and it’s such a yummy sauce!”

“Good,” I panted, rotating my hips, savoring the hot friction burning in the depths of my bowels. “Just pound me. Don’t stop. Make us both cum!”

“Yay! Cumming!”

She gripped my hips, fingernails biting into my flesh. My asshole clenched down on her dick. My eyes rolled back into my head. My tits bounced in my bra and blouse. Her hard thrusts pressed my cheeks against the passenger window. I groaned, snorting.

“Soooo good. Keep fucking me. Oh, you naughty girl. Oh, yes. Fuck me! Pound me! Make me explode on your dyke cock.”

“Yes,” she moaned. “Oh, my clitty feels amazing. And my pussy all yummy! We’re going to cum!”

“Yes, yes, yes!”

The friction burned so hot. Pussy juices dripped down my thighs. Both my holes kept clenching, my asshole loving her enthusiastic thrusts. My eyes rolled back into my head. The pressure built and built, another wonderful orgasm about to scream through my body.

She was so enthusiastic. She so wanted to make us both cum. It was infective. I pushed back into her, wanting her to have as much pleasure as me. My heart raced as we shared this moment. I licked my lips, slamming back into her thrusts, grunting, groaning.

My body tensed. The pleasure swelled and swelled in me. My eyes rolled back into my head. I shivered, shuddered. My asshole clenched down so hard on the thrusting dildo. My flesh drank in the friction.

I came.

“Natasha!” I moaned.

“Are you cumming?” she asked, driving the dildo deep into my spasming bowels.

“I am! You made me cum! Love you!”

“Yay!” She kept thrusting. “Oh, I’m getting so close, too. I love the dyke-cock. So much fun to fuck you!”

“Good,” I groaned. “Keep fucking me. Cum with me!”

Pleasure boiled my mind. I shivered. Stars burst across my vision. Natasha gasped and moaned. Her voice grew throatier and throatier. Then she moaned out with me, joining me. I shivered, her hips burying the dildo into my asshole as she draped over me.

“Oh, Delilah,” she panted, hugging me. She nuzzled at my neck. “Oh, what a wonderful cum. Just the best.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Love you.” She nuzzled at my ear, licking. “I’m your secret lesbian wife. I love that.”

“Me, too,” I sighed.

These bimbos were incredible. I had to make sure they weren’t abused. I needed to meet Frank Jackman, size him up, and figure out just how much of a threat he would be. He stood to make billions. He would not give up the bimbo serum without a fight.

“George,” I said, glancing at my driver. He had been ignoring us so far, having no interest in two women writhing.

“Yes?”

“Send an invitation to Frank Jackman and his wife, invite him and as many guests as he wants to bring to the gala I’m holding.”

“I will,” he answered.

Natasha’s kisses on my neck sent shivers down to my pussy. “Good. Thank you, George.”

“Have fun with your new toy.”

I smiled. “I will.” I glanced over my shoulder at the flushed, happy face of Natasha. “I bet you would love to have your pussy licked!”

“Yes!” she gasped. “Oh, you would do that? Pete say it’s a nasty cunt that’s just disgusting. It’s only for cocks.”

“And he’s an asshole,” I growled. “Your cunt is beautiful. And I’m going to prove it by eating it.”

I licked my lips as she ripped the dildo out of my ass. I loved devouring pussy almost as much as I loved being fucked in the ass. My heart raced. I was also eager just to give this radiant creature love and pleasure.

She deserved it after what Frank and Pete had done to her.

Frank Jackman, CEO of BimboTech Chemicals

“So this will really turn us into skinny girls with big tits?” the blonde test subject asked, sitting in the back row. Her name was July, I believed. There were a dozen of them, volunteers from across the company and one from the FDA. It took me two days to prepare the suppositories, and Carter, head of R&D, had gathered the girls and had them all sign the NDA.

They were all single, no boyfriends, girlfriends, husbands, or wives I had to worry about. They were all overweight or with unusual body shapes, none of them classically hot or even pretty. One woman had a large wart dominating her upper lip and a mustache that she must have fought hard to keep from being so obvious.

“You saw the video,” I said. “The results are dramatic. And you all have seen the changes to Veronica.”

The girls nodded. “She used to be a real cunt,” one in the back said. “And now she’s so sweet.”

“But she’s an idiot now,” a brunette said, her chin vanishing into the rolls of fat around her neck. “A complete airhead.”

“Price of being beautiful,” I told her. “The choice is really yours. Are you happy the way you are right now? With your life? What would you do to change your fortune. You’ll be hot, beautiful. Men will want you. Attractive men. Sexy men who have money.”

I could see it in their eyes, the shallow desire for wealth and good looks that drove so many humans. They salivated for it. Even knowing that they would end up as airheads, they craved to look like my wife. They stared at the before and after shot of Alice projected onto a screen behind me. The serum had transformed her. I had loved her when she was overweight.

But it was nice having her so beautiful and wanton. Even I was shallow. At least there was the intelligence serum so I could still have the part of my wife I truly loved. Right now, she was working on extending the intelligence serum to give her more than an hour of her normal thoughts.

“So, sign the papers,” I said, each woman glancing down. They each sat at a desk. It was like a classroom, one of the many clinical trial labs located in the bowels of BT Chemicals. “And we shall start the test.”

“And it really has to go in our vaginas?” the Hispanic girl from the FDA asked. Director Steffen had sent her to become his bimbo assistant. “I mean, Director Steffen didn’t mention that. He said I’d get an injection.”

“We have administered it as an injection in the past,” I told the women. “But that’s not good for a consumer product.”

“But isn’t a suppository supposed to go in the rectum?” Her forehead furrowed. Maria had a sallow-brown complexion, her body round like a ripe tomato. She had three separate chins, and they all wobbled as she stared at me. Even her dark-brown hair had a lank, dull sheen to it.

“Normally,” I nodded. “But seeing as the Venus Serum stimulates your feminine hormones, it works best when inserted vaginally. There are treatments that work this way.” I had no idea if there were. I was a chemist, not a doctor. “And it is perfectly safe. It is the same chemical as the injection. The suppository will dissolve in your pussy. We expect the changes to be slower through this method, but they will happen.”

She stared down at her form. “Director Steffen said I would get a promotion if I did this. He didn’t mention anything about the ... side-effects.”

“He was supposed to,” I growled. I had talked to him on the phone just two days ago on Monday. Like he promised, the FDA gave approval to fast track the Venus Serum for market. “You have to sign willingly. No one’s making you do it.”