Bimbo Bakery: Pageant Puffs
Synopsis: A fancy new bakery has opened in the small college town of New Billington. When stressed out Pageant Mom; Candice walks through the shop's doors, she doesn't know that what she is purchasing are more than just innocent pastries. A tale of naughty MILF Bimbofication where a high-strung woman learns to
really
let her hair down and have a little dirty fun.
Part One: Open For Business.
"Mom, did you hear me? I said I prefer the emerald ballgown with the sequins."
Candice looked up from her phone with a guilty start to look at her daughter Madeline whose head was poking through the changing room curtain.
"Are you sure, Sweety? It has a lot of fabric you know..." She protested weakly as the young woman frowned unhappily back at her.
Well it was true, the over-elaborate gown did have a lot of fabric. A lot of very
costly
fabric at that.
Candice was sitting on a small padded stool in
Madam Sentani's
; a high-end bridal and evening wear boutique crowded in on all sides by racks and hangers overflowing with dresses, slips and gowns. They came in every hue, style and cut conceivable. All in shining silk, soft satin and sheerest chiffon trimmed in delicate lace, elegantly embroidered or beaded with glittering rhinestones.
The deceptively small tags hanging from sleeves and backs held devastating prices. Each garment was hideously expensive as though to counterbalance with how extravagantly glamorous it promised to make the lucky buyer appear. Candice was sitting upright and tense, trying not to touch anything on the off chance she might have to pay for it.
"Well, let me see how you look before we come to a final verdict." She gave Madeline a weak smile and gestured her over.
Madeline harrumphed her way out of the stall and struck a pose--one of her
pageant
poses--with limited success. The gown was luxurious in soft crimson tulle, the fitted satin bodice showcased a sweetheart neckline and beaded lace straps. It, like everything else in the store, was gorgeous and had the added appeal of being one of the only
affordable
pieces on display.
Quite unlike the sequined emerald ballgown with its rolling acres of lavish silks and exorbitant crystal ornamentation.
"Oh Madeline, I think you look lovely..."
"
Lovely
isn't going to impress the Judges, Mom." Madeline groused, "I need to look
stunning
to score well in the evening-wear round. I
need
the emerald ballgown."
What Candice
needed
was some fresh air. The shop felt stuffy with lady's perfume, the closeness of all the cloth and the crushing metaphysical weight of retail extortion. She stood up trying to maintain the increasingly fragile smile.
"How about you get changed, Sweety. Mommy just needs to step outside for a minute to make a phone call."
It was a lie but a harmless one. A small price to pay to settle her troubled mind and one she suspected would be the smallest price she would be shelling out for today if Madeline got her way. Her daughter gave her a suspicious glare.
"You're not going to smoke are you? You said you quit."
"Just a phone call, I promise. I'll be right back." Candice assured as she pushed through the crowded racks for the front door.
Candice wanted a cigarette.
Oh
, how she wanted a cigarette!
...but she had promised herself a fresh start when they had made the move out to the Midwest. A new marriage, a new home, a new job and a new
her
.
So far it wasn't going so well.
The family had moved to New Billington when her newlywed husband Grant had accepted a Research Associate position with the local College. It made a lot of sense at the time. Housing costs were lower in the small college town and as a market research analyst who worked remotely from her laptop, Candice could earn her living anywhere that had power, a wireless signal and a half-decent coffee shop.
Then she had lost her job when the New York consulting firm she worked for was
consolidated
into some faceless mega-corp and her entire department was
restructured
to a rice paddy somewhere in South-East Asia.
There wasn't much demand for over-qualified market analysts in New Billington, Indiana population 53,000. So Candice's
new
job was in a small four-story concrete office block, performing mindless data-entry for a locally-based freight and logistics carrier. She even had her very own five by five cardboard cubicle that felt as warm and personal as a prison cell.
Then there was her not-so-happy home life to comfort Candice. Madeline had not been best pleased with being uprooted from her teenage life in the city and turned all that resultant angst on her new step-father Grant. Blaming the bookish, intellectual man for her unwelcome relocation and keeping the tensions in their white-picket place of residence at an all-time high.
Candice knew Grant was trying his best, Dear Lord he was trying but he was a deep thinker who preferred feelings more in theory than in practice. He wasn't exactly cold,
per se
but a logical and rational debater unaccustomed to the wild mood swings and incapable of effectively communicating with an upset teenage girl he didn't know how to parent.
Oh and to top it all, Candice was gaining weight. There was the whole hand to mouth action--Candice disliked the term "oral fixation" on principle--which felt empty without a cigarette but was seductively replaceable with a quick snack.
Maybe that was why she stopped where she did on the small town's charming main street. The constant commercial turn-over from a few thousand college coeds a year sustained these broad boulevards lined with bars, shops, restaurants, and other small businesses that still retained their vintage flair. They were the quintessential hubs of any small community and unchanging as a mountain face. So it was always something of a surprise to see a new storefront appear among the old sandwich boards leaning out in front of the hardware store and the ancient wrought iron benches set outside the local deli.
B.B's Boulangerie Pâtisserie
The words were painted in a curling flourishing font and framed in a tasteful art deco border on a blade-sign that looked so fresh the paint must have still been drying. It was set above a pastel blue striped french awning that shaded the large front display window and the quaint timber and glass entry-door with an actual brass bell affixed to the frame.
Candice paused in front of it, worrying at her lower lip as she looked back and forth up the sleepy street. The morning bustle had died down with most students in classes and the locals hard at work. Where she would be if not for Madeline's damnable gown fitting. When had the new business moved into the area? She couldn't remember seeing any workmen renovating the store or even remember what had been in its place before. New Billington wasn't large but... well, she was still fairly new to town.
The strangest part was how
clean
it all appeared.
Part of the old town charm was things that had that worn-by-time look, like antiques got. A lovingly long-lived sense of craggy brick walls rubbed smooth by decades of weather or wooden handrails deeply stained and polished by the countless thousands of hands that had gripped them.
Not here though, the storefront was brightly coloured and immaculate. The crayola yellow paintwork was faultless, the window glass smudge-free and spotless, even the footpath looked freshly scrubbed until it was near bone-white. It was as though something had sliced this bakery right out of a picture-book and dropped it right between Harold's Home Hardware and Grouchoe's Deli.
The bell above the door chimed prettily as she stepped inside. The overhead lights were so bright she had to shade her eyes and the smell! The sweet odor of sugar with exotic undertones of spice filled the air so thoroughly it tickled her taste buds. The entire interior was painted in shades of pastel pink and soft indistinct music lilted gently from hidden speakers.
Polished glass display cases were set in a neat row on either of an ornately carved wooden counter with an old fashioned nickel and brass Patterson cash register gleaming atop it.
Behind it stood a woman, she was posed so erect and motionless that Candice almost mistook her for a mannequin until she turned her head and smiled.
"Hi!" She said brightly then giggled as if she had said something amusing.
"Ummm... Hello." Candice replied, blinking away the spots in her vision. The colours, the reflections, the lighting... Everything was
very
bright in here.
"Hi, hi!" The woman chirped again then continued to grin expectantly at her. As though she could stand there patiently all day smiling vapidly.
She was very beautiful, Candice could admit that with only a small pang of envy. She had high cheekbones and slightly upturned eyes. Her skin looked soft as a peach and her plump lips were painted the same pink colour as the paint on the walls. Her hair was blonde like golden sheaths of wheat in the sunshine, thick and hung in a long braid down her back.
"I was just stopping by to say hi, I've not seen you before." Candice said in a friendly tone before asking, "Are you new?"
The woman's fashion was decidedly odd. She wore the ruffled white farmhouse apron of a storekeeper from last century but under it she was snugly wrapped in a candy-stripe mini-dress that clung to her slender hourglass figure like a second skin. It stretched over thick hips, cinched in tight to a tiny waist before traveling up to explode outwards over a frankly ridiculous pair of breasts that pushed out the top frill of the apron in defiance of all Newtonian laws of physics.
Her cleavage was so immense that Candice thought she could smuggle entire baguettes within its pillowy valleys. A small embroidered frame on her apron had the letters B.B. within it.
"Yes... new, all new. All new B.B. Nice and pretty." The blonde sang and then burst into another fit of giggles that made her huge breasts ripple. Did this B.B. think Candice was asking about her? She had meant to ask about the business. What was going on...
"Hello? Please wait a moment..." A deep male voice called from a dividing curtain behind the counter.
It was yellow. Like a lemon drop she noted distractedly. She took a deep breath of the sweet tasting air again, it was nice.
Very calming.
Her eyes fell to the display cases and stared. Beneath the shining glass were rows of little pastries and delicately iced confections arranged beautifully in perfect rank and file on little silver trays and lacy white paper doilies.
The pastries were fabulously golden, the tiny iced sweets were glossy, they glistened like cut gemstones in so many different shapes and colours it was like looking at a vast coral reef under warm tropical waters. It was entrancing.
"Welcome
Mademoiselle
