Wie Totawwy Bimbo!

Wike, Totawwy Bimbo! Part Ten.

Running, Hiding, and Not Feeling So Great.

The Sunnydale heroes trooped through the revolving door; Buffy decided to confront the place head-on. She groaned when she saw the buxom bimbo receptionists. The old man who rode the elevator touched his cap. He asked them where he should bring them.

"Mr. Fink it'll be," he repeated, ogling the platinum blond semi-bimbo. He knew her. Fink had told him the girl would be back, and when it happened, he should bring her and her entourage up without delay. He pressed the button for the desired floor. At the same time, he pressed another one right next to it. With the muzak an almost indiscernible sweet scent wafted out of the air condition's vent.

The operator smiled. He watched the perfume touch the women's flaring nostrils. Then he looked at Xander and murmured soft words into his uniform's cuff.

***

At last, the elevator doors opened. Buffy almost felt her lungs burst out of her ribcage. The moment she smelled the sickly- sweet odor entering the car, she stopped breathing. She watched Anya's eyes glaze over. Then she saw Willow gasp, swaying on her legs. Dawn giggled and started pulling up her top.

She chanted: "Daddy... Dad-dyyy..."

Buffy jumped outside. At the last moment she saw the two heavy guards, so she ducked and rolled away. Xander was less lucky; he received a blow to his head and crumbled to his knees. Then the rest of the girls stumbled out. They were in a trance, babbling in baby voices and giggling at every third word. A black woman with incredible tits herded them through a door. She wore the sluttiest outfit and craziest heels.

Buffy ran off as soon as one of the guards came over to catch her. She hurried down an endless corridor, hearing his footsteps right behind her. She suddenly stopped, making him bump into her, then she slashed him in the neck with the edge of her hand. It downed him good and thorough. She ran on and found a stairwell. After following it two floors down she saw an open door leading into service corridors. There she hid to catch her breath and think.

***

Meanwhile, the four dazed women huddled together in a front office next to the elevator hall. They made happy noises, all the time touching each other and commenting with high, excited voices. The black, big-ballooned bimbo had pushed a button on her desk. Then she teetered over to the women, jiggling at every step.

"We'come to BimboTech Inc, giwlsh," she gushed, clapping her hands and jingling her enormous plastic earrings. "Ya' all, like, sho totawy we'come. Weal soon we make y'all de happiestest shluts eva! Masta be heeah soon. Pwomishe!" Dawn stepped forward. She shook her curls and her imaginary tits.

"You 'member me, Missh Tittiefuck? I'm Dawn, Daddy Fink's li'l shlave girl." Tittiefuck squealed and hugged the girl, smothering her with her double H's.

"Ooooooh, pwetty giwl! Daddy be shooooo pweashed!" At that moment a tall, well-clad man entered the hall. He smiled and let his eyes run over the group of befuddled women. Then he turned towards Tittiefuck and the blond girl she hugged.

"Dawn!" he said. The girl shrieked and ran to the man. She sank to her knees and hugged his legs.

"Daddy, Dad-dyyy! Dawn'sh here. I promished and now I'm back. And I did bring what Daddy ashked for. Look." Fink followed her pointing finger.

"Where is the slayer?" he asked. "You didn't bring the slayer!" He pushed the blonde little slut away, making her slide over the slick floor.

"She'sh here, Dad-dy!" she sobbed. "She came in the elevator. Shame elevator we did." Fink turned away briskly, walking over to the entrance. There one of the guards whispered to him. A dark cloud drifted over Finks face.

"Close all doors, all exits and corridors!" he snapped. Then he turned back to Tittiefuck. "Process those two, Tittiefuck, with the others". He pointed at Anya and Tara. They stood like zombies; a wide grin plastered to their faces. "Do it quick," Fink went on. "Keep the li'l blonde slut in custody. And the witch too." He pointed at Dawn and Willow. "Can you remember that?"

"Tiddiefuck 'memba, Mashta," smiled the black bimbo. She took them out of the room. Fink once more turned towards the guard.

"Take me to him," he said. The two of them left.

***

Xander had been tied to a chair. It was a sturdy steel chair, and the cuffs that held his wrists were steel as well. There was a wide leather belt over his chest. His ankles were linked to the chair's legs with steel cuffs as well. He still looked groggy from the blow when Fink and the guard entered. Fink walked over to the tied man, lifting his chin with a finger.

"Welcome to BimboTech Inc," he said cheerfully. "I hope you appreciate our hospitality." Xander groaned. "So, you were with the dreaded vampire slayer?" Fink continued. He went over to a console and pressed a button. Then he again turned to his captive. "We have her in a chair like yours, you know?" he lied. "She will be quite a different person tomorrow, much happier and easier on the eyes." Fink chuckled. Xander said nothing, he just stared.

A blond nurse came in, holding a small plate before her huge boobs. It contained a syringe, cotton balls and iodine. Her curves made her tiny white latex uniform stretch at the stitches, her legs seeming to rise on and on out of seven-inch heeled platform clogs. Next to the chair she bent at her waist and put down the plate. She smiled at Xander and jiggled her bubbling tits; then she got a cotton ball, dipping it in iodine and rubbing the crook of his arm with it. Taking the syringe, she checked if the needle was full and plunged it into a throbbing vein.

"Thank you, nurse Bubbili," Fink said and slapped her tightly packed ass. The girl squealed amiably and informed if there would be other services required of her. "No, nurse, you may leave us alone... for now," Fink answered. Then he stepped forward, looking into Xander's eyes. He held them open at the lids.

"Okay!" he exclaimed. He lowered the huge helmet that hung from the ceiling; it sank over the entire head. Then Fink pumped a little rubber ball and the inside of the helmet closed tightly around his captive's skull. Fink grabbed a chair and sat in front of Xander, slowly crossing his legs. He put his fingertips together and stared.

"Such a pleasant bonus this young man is," he murmured. "Where would I have found a cheaper guinea pig?" He grinned.

***

Buffy crawled through a metal tube, trying not to make a sound. She'd found the passage behind a hatch; it must be part of an air conditioning system. With a bit of luck, it might bring her to places without being seen.

The welcome at the elevator had surprised her; she could kick herself for having been so stupid. It had been too easy, the elevator vent trick, the catching of Xander. What were they going to do with the women, with Dawn? She had to act quickly, but how and where? By now she'd passed a number of empty rooms; a cool draft in the system made her shiver. Through slits in the wall, she'd seen beauty parlor-like set ups. Big chairs, gleaming machines, large mirrors. Lights were on and all kinds of tools and things lay around.

The tunnel seemed to come to an end, but a vertical one rose up. In it were rungs, enabling her to climb to what must be a higher floor. The stairs brought her to a wider horizontal passage that had a number of slits in its side. The draft was less, thank God. Buffy peered through the openings. Her breath stuck in her throat. From above she looked on something that could only have been a factory hall. Everything was gleaming and white, like a laboratory or a hospital, but right through the middle ran a conveyor belt. It hardly made a sound; there were no workers in sight, either. Huge metal robot-like machines slid along the belt, doing their duties in dedicated silence, and what duties they were. As far as she could see, Buffy looked down on naked women. They were stretched on metal contraptions that slowly turned them around their axis. They looked like skewered suckling pigs, their hands tied over their heads and their ankles fastened too. Thick, supple tubes ran into all their orifices. It didn't seem to bother them; their eyes were closed, their faces reflecting deep ecstasy.

Buffy was located right at the point where the women entered the hall. A robot sprayed their bodies with a slick, oily substance, making their limbs gleam in the cool white light. She knew some of the women and girls, at least their faces; they were from Sunnydale. Some were mothers or sisters of Dawn's classmates, some were classmates. Wasn't the blonde one Dawn's PE-teacher? Buffy crawled along the conveyor belt, following the women. She didn't see Dawn, nor Willow. She thought she saw Anya, though but she wasn't sure. After the oil bath they seemed to enter a transparent tunnel. It filled up with a green liquid as soon as the body was in. The woman was totally immerged but seemed to be able to breath normally.

Another gasp escaped Buffy's mouth. She saw a woman who had just left the tunnel. Her hair had grown and was totally blonde, white blonde of the kind they call platinum. When she turned around the pole she was fixed to, two huge tits lay high on her chest. They jiggled like pink jello, sharply defined and looking perfectly fake. The woman's waist was tight, but her hips flared out. In her crotch the skin was baby pink and hairless, the cunt lips seemed swollen, they sparkled with moisture. When she once more turned on her belly, Buffy noticed the perfect S-line of the body, two magnificent globes sticking firmly out below her curved back, topping two long, smooth and shining legs.

Buffy crawled on, watching one curvaceous blonde after another riding down the conveyor belt. They all had amazing tits; their bodies were a porn lover's wet dream. At last, they slid through a white enamel tunnel and came out with a glorious tan all over their smooth, flawless skin. Also, their hair had gained different colors, most still silvery white, others all colors of the spectrum, red, pink, orange, blue, black... Huge metallic arms of a robot cupped their heads and a forest of needles plunged into their facial skin and lips. The lips seemed to swell and turn into a shocking pink, the skin around the eyes was tattooed with a slutty permanent make up. Their nipples and areola were also tattooed into a dark or light pink, or a deep brown depending on their skin types. Even the insides of their labia and their sphincters were carefully tattooed. Right over the top of each vagina a few words were inked into the skin, too small for Buffy to read.

Other metallic arms swung down to their hands and feet. Long nails were polished and painted, all in garish reds or pinks, some even gold and silver. After that the transformed women disappeared through a membrane in the wall. Buffy found the a/c tube went on, giving her a look into the next room, where she saw a row of metal chairs, connected to the conveyor belt. Each chair was a few feet away from the next. The naked women were turned vertical, then lowered into a chair by deft and tender robotic hands. A big helmet sank over their riot of blonde hair and painted faces, metal cuffs secured their wrists and ankles. A low humming filled the hall.

Soon the women started to shake in their chair. A slick, fat dildo rose out of the seat between their thighs. It gyrated, its head turning as if searching, then it suddenly found its goal. An endless gleaming snake disappeared into the women's throbbing cunts. It slowly started to fuck them. From the helmet three supple feelers sank down. The transparent little cups at the end of two tentacles sucked themselves onto the new fat nipples, pulling them out. The third feeler slid down the belly. Its cup clamped over their new, sensitive clits. It started sucking.

Every other minute now the women stiffened and arched their tied bodies. Each time a flood of clear juices squirted from their spread cunts, running down the slick body of the monster snake that fucked them. The women seemed to have a never-ending series of orgasms as their seat slowly proceeded along the conveyor belt. Buffy gasped as the enormity of it all sank in. She crawled on, her eyes glued to the rows of grossly disfigured sex-slaves below. Once they were her neighbors, her innocent sister's innocent friends and teachers.

"Oh God," she groaned. "This has to stop... stop..."

***

The black guard pointed his stubby finger at one of the monitor screens. It showed a honey-blond woman crawling through a metal tunnel. Fink grinned.

"Yes, that's her," he said.

"Shall we go get her, sir?" the guard asked. Fink now laughed.

"No," he said. "Let's grant her the big tour for just a while longer." He turned a knob on the monitor. It made the camera zoom in on the chest of the crawling woman. Hard little nubs pushed at the cotton of her t-shirt. "She so far seems to enjoy the sights." Both men chuckled.

Creating a Two-Legged Stallion.

Xander had no idea where he was, which was an improvement. Up to that moment he'd had no ideas at all for a long time. His head was in a tight place, he could hardly move a facial muscle. His eyes were closed, all was dark. Something filled his mouth and his ears seemed plugged. His nostrils were penetrated with two slick, narrow tubes. Yet, he heard and saw and smelled. What he saw he couldn't describe. There were colors; there also was a throbbing sensation. Slow pulsating globs rose as in one of those ugly lava lamps. The sounds were music, or maybe not music at all. They were sounds as lazy as the rising globs, his entire world seemed in slow motion. Every slow breath he took, filled his head with memories. Not real memories, just luke-warm breezes of artificially remembered happiness. They were long-gone feelings of being well... well... being...

Then there was the voice, a throaty female voice. It seemed to use words, even sentences, but they were like a foreign language to him, like when you can't know where one word ends and a new one begins. Yet, he knew their meaning, just like he knew the meaning of what he saw. The words and the pictures seemed glued to his soul, or even better: grafted on it. They were part of him, had always been. Hadn't they? He became aware of his body; it was perfectly immobile. He could make his muscles ripple, but he couldn't move an inch, which was just as well, as he totally lacked any desire to move. He was... soaring. Was that the word? Soaring? Oh yes, he felt like an eagle. Deep rushes of anticipation ran through his body. The voice just dripped and dripped into his skull, feeling like warm, flowing honey. The lazy globs massaged his inner eyes, and his whole world whispered Mmmmmaster... Mmmmmasssssterrrr. Mmmmmmm. Yes. He felt great. He felt very much on top.

Far, far away, at the end of a very long tunnel, there was... something. Another voice... an itch... a troublesome feeling, but it stayed where it was, at a safe distance, far away, never to intrude on this glorious wellbeing... well... being... well...

Mmmmmm...

***

Fink had returned to Xander from watching Buffy as she crawled her way through the air conditioning ducts. He checked a few gauges on the helmet. All the probes on the guinea pig's body seemed all right. He then touched the pulsing, flaccid cock that lay on the man's thigh. Through his rubber glove he felt the blood soar through swelling veins. The penis slowly rose. It looked like an innocent, bald fledgling bird trying to fly.

Fink smiled. The scene was set. He took a microphone and returned to a chair in front of the hooked-up figure. "Master X," he said, making the phone plop. The man started in the chair. "I know you can't answer me, but you can listen. You're the new master... a new superhero... Master X. It makes you feel great to know that. You're the best... the very best, Master X..." Fink waited to allow the female voice and the music to print the meaning of his words into the man's brain. "Master Xxxxx," he continued. "To make you grow, to make you the very best, your weak body has to improve. You need to be strong. Strong enough to always keep up your greatness." Fink waited again. Then he flipped a switch on a remote control. Out of the floor rose a plexiglass tube that surrounded the chair. When it had risen higher than the top of the helmet, a greenish fluid started filling up the space. It seemed to boil with bubbles like a slow motioned jacuzzi. Fumes and smoke rose from the top.

"Welcome, Master X," Fink chuckled. Then he checked his watch. He pushed a button. Almost immediately the big titted nurse re-entered the room. Her tight latex top had partly slipped; it showed a long and hard nipple.

"Hello again, sweet Bubbili," Fink smiled. "I guess it is time for that li'l rain check, remember?" The nurse giggled and sank to her knees in front of her boss. Pink nailed fingers deftly opened his trousers and took out a swollen cock. With a soft moan she slid her fat lips down to its base. "Good girl, Bubbili," Fink remarked and patted her bobbing head. Behind him the fluid steamed and bubbled, as did his own fluids inside the bimbo's sizzling throat.

"Master X!" Fink yelled as he came. "Master of the Universe!"

"Ggrrmmmbbbll," Bubbili spluttered, not missing a drop.

***

Fink slapped his spent cock into the nurse's face, making white drops of cum splatter on her hair and skin. She smiled her whitest smile, then she got hold of the cock again and sucked the last remains out of the gaping slit. He pushed her away, as behind him a deep gurgling sound had gotten his attention. The glass pillar was slowly emptying, and it started sinking into the floor, uncovering what was behind. The metal chair re-emerged, and the huge helmet was pulled up to the ceiling. Fink heard the sharp intake of breath from the kneeling girl, and yes, he could quite well imagine why she would feel the way she did. In the chair sat the most incredible hunk.

It was hard to tell exactly how tall he was, as he was still seated. His shoulders were wide, his chest was wrapped in an abundance of tanned, toned muscles, his biceps would make Schwarzenegger blush. His belly was one giant washboard of rippling iron. Fink stared at what rose between the treelike thighs. It seemed like a third arm, crowned with a tight, strong fist. It stood erect and trembled, overgrown with pulsing veins. Below it hung the largest sack ever to grow on a bull. Fink sighed. Yes, he thought. He had succeeded, he had created the Master of the Universe, his very own guinea bull, his own incredible two-legged stallion.

The man in the chair opened his eyes. They were steely blue; they also were as steady as steel. His lashes never blinked. Then the eyes started roaming. First, he took in Fink, a small smile curling his lips. He looked down to his bound arms, the muscles tightened and the metal cuffs snapped like straw. As the giant rose, he broke the leather around his chest and the cuffs that held his calves. He was over seven feet tall. Fink knew that he would be, but the reality of it struck him with awe.

"Kneel for me, X," Fink said. He was not quite able to keep the quiver out of his voice, but his confidence at once returned as the giant knelt before him, touching his shoes with his forehead.

"Masta Fink," he rumbled in a deep voice. Fink touched his shoulder, feeling the humming of energetic life inside the cable-like muscles. The giant looked up, his eyes expectantly.

"Taste his cock, Bubbili," Fink said, making way for the wide-eyed slut-nurse, who at once crawled forward and reached for the pulsing mini tree. She would never be able to take it in. Her well-trained collagen lips stretched and stretched only to barely slide around the purple helmet.