Wike, Totawwy Bimbo! Part Five.
Two Happy New Bimbos Doing What They Do Best.
Fink hadn't slept well, not well at all. In fact, he'd never slept worse since he took over this outfit and turned it into his wildly successful BimboTech Incorporation. Its former CEO served as his totally bimbofied personal ass-sistant now. So, what was there to lose sleep over ever again? All had gone smoothly until these god-awful bitches of Wolfram & fucking Hart thought they'd reel in a few of their damn rain checks. It wasn't their demands that made him itchy; those meant nothing. It would be a piece of cake to turn these private eye snoopers into giggling bimbos. He'd done that, been there. The nosy cop Kate had been a push over. The others would not cause him a minute of worry.
This Trippi, or whatever her new silly name, might have surprised him when she shrugged off her chemical spell for a split second. But a good old-fashioned round of gang bang fucking had taken care of that. Last he saw of her was her proud fat ass rising from a mountain of orgiastic flesh. There was this other thing, though, this request to lure the sister of this so-called vampire slayer to the premises and make her a happy bimbo, along with a school class of college freshmen. That didn't sit well with him at all, although he had no idea why. It just seemed far-fetched to grab a whole class just to catch a freak witch. Ah, well... Did he have a choice?
He walked down the hallway, barely escaping Tittiefuck, his loyal ex-boss. She always tried to pull him into her H-sized wobblers. No time for that now, silly bimbo; too much to do, too much to worry about. First thing on his list was to see about the brainy chick, what was her name? Fred, silly name for a girl. She'd better be BounciBounce by now, dammit. Which brought him to another pain in the ass. Wallace Warren, associate from the first hour. Self-appointed friend and nagging know-it-all. Warren had insisted on having the nerdy chick exclusively to himself after the initial body changes. Warren was getting to be a problem, Fink thought. From the start he had objected to the all-chemical ideology of the firm. He believed in hypnosis and mental invasion, whatever that might be. Fink knew it was just another way to compete with the boss. Not that Fink had really cared. Let the guy have his nerdy orgasm with the slut. She was supposed to be a cabbage in the end, anyway. So, if it all went wrong, he could always get the old mindfucker-chair and finish her off himself.
He reached the beauty salon. Behind the pink door was a chaos of squealing girlie voices. The tableau vivant he saw after opening the door was uplifting, mentally as well as physically (as his tightening crotch let him know). In the beauty chair sat a teenage boy's gushing vision of steaming paradise. The girl had tits the size of soccer balls, crowned with jutting nipples at least a digit long. Her hair swung from left to right on her lolling head. It looked like a flaming red flag torn to pieces by a raging storm.
The first thing Fink saw, though, were her endless legs spread wide and fastened into chrome stirrups. That way she allowed a full and unhindered view on the fattest and wettest bare cunt he'd ever seen. Not for long though. A crew of bimbos centered in on her in screaming bliss. An ash blond bombshell went down on the leaking cunt, an Asian centerfold clawed into the left tit, a butterscotch bimbo closed her fat, enhanced lips around the right nipple. When he looked closer, he saw the ex-cop Cunt Lustly ram her nightstick into a convulsing asshole. A content smile split his worried face. He stopped right in front of the orgy, where he rose onto the tips of his toes. Then he fell back on his heels and coughed in his fist.
"Eh... Bounci, I presume? The one and only BounciBounce?" he said, focusing on the reason of her new name. Right then the redhead's screaming climax drowned his voice. Fink was not a bit surprised that the bimboslut did not acknowledge his presence. She may once have been the clever Winnifred Burkle, now the burgundy haired, deeply dumbed-down vixen hung with vacant eyes in the beautician's chair, slowly coming down from multiple orgasms.
"Honey," Muffy whispered into her ear, after softly kissing the new slut in her creamy neck. "Mashta's 'ere." At this, Bounci's eyes snapped open. She turned to look at Fink. In her new eyes this man was a God amongst man. Praying that Warren wouldn't fuck up, it was one of the things Fink had him add, together with many more additions the lawyer bastards had no need to know of, just as he had bracketed out so many other changes on their list.
Bounci began to lick her slick, painted lips, batting her lengthened eyelashes. The other sluts helped their new lover out of the chair. Clinging to their assistance she approached Fink, her magnificent legs shaking.
"Bounchi fank Mashta. Bounchi bimboshlut now, Mashta!" she giggled. "BounchiBounchi now, wooki." She groped her tits and let them fall to explain her new name, ending up in a storm of giggles. "Bounchi, wike, weawwy wuvs eatn pushy!" she added when the giggling ended. Fink sighed relieved at this last remark. Damn Warren had bragged that the leggy whore had sucked his cock for all it was worth. Fink doubted it. Right now, it looked like her ultimate conditioning had taken hold. She seemed a total lesbian.
Fink scratched his chin. He imagined that playing it clever, he could probably have the future stripper all to himself, and her lover, the little goldmine of a porn star. Who knows, maybe the rest too? Why not? Wasn't he God around here?
