Crime: Bimbomania!

Anyone who is under the age of 18, along with anyone offended by stories of a sexual nature or containing sexual situations or offended by the idea of mind control in any fashion, please do not read this story.

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I arrived backstage in a high state of agitation.

Alright, I was horny. It was impossible to concentrate. My skin felt hot. I could smell everybody. I was in heat. My overdeveloped bimbo body was reacting to everything, and it all felt good. I wanted more. My clothes felt restrictive. I wanted to be naked. I wanted to be on all fours watching in a mirror while somebody pounded me silly from behind. I was built for fucking. I wanted one long screaming orgasm, and then another.

And this was from someone who still had her brains.

There was no way...

no way

...that someone who had their brains dimmed by the bimbo throne would be able to go without sex. I was aroused to a degree I hadn't known possible. It wasn't just a vague want or desire; it was burning, driving need. The scary thing was it would be so easy to get. My body was so responsive to everything that giving was as stimulating as getting. Because of my lips, giving a blowjob would give me more orgasms that someone licking me. My clit was so responsive that the sensations from a strong wind would probably be enough to make me cum.

*****

There was definite tension on the stage, particularly between Laura and myself. At least one of us was going to the Bimbo Throne today. If there was any way for them to make sure it was me, they would do so. I'd have to watch my step.

The introductory music finished, and Biff jumped into his opening spiel. "Good evening, and welcome back to Bimbomania! It's a tense, exciting night as at least one of our girls will be visiting..." He cocked a hand to his ear.

"The Bimbo Throne!" cried the audience in one voice.

"That's right...the Bimbo Throne!" said Biff. "Tonight at least one of our girls will be transformed from a free-thinking, anarchistic criminal to a sweet, lovable, ditzy, horny bimbo!"

The applause was long lasting and loud. Here and there, chants of "Bimbo! Bimbo! Bimbo!" could be heard. The cheering was so loud that the stage was vibrating, causing Laura and I to squeeze our thighs together as our sensitized clits responded to the vibrations.

Biff held up his hand. "Alrighty, then, let's get started with our next event!" he said. "Round Five is no picnic, girls, because now it gets down and dirty. Now is when you will have to reach deep inside to win, because it's time for the means to an end event. Your rear-ends, to be exact. Yes, it's time...for the Anal Off! Or, as it is known by long-time viewers...the Backdoor Score!"

The crowd went crazy all over again. Chrissie and the others were looking at each other with unhappy expressions. This wasn't going to be any fun.

Behind us, the stage began to whirr and shift once more. On the stage behind us, there were now four platforms about two feet high, with various straps protruding from each surface. Next to each platform was a machine. Each machine has a rod protruding from it, aimed about a foot above the platform. Each rod had an attachment on the end that appeared to be a series of balls that steadily increased in girth. There could be no mistaking the purpose of the rods.

"Okay, here's how it works," said Biff. "You cuties will be strapped on your hands and knees on top of the platforms. Trust me, the straps are for your own protection. You don't want to jump or squirm unexpectedly here! Our back door love machines will then slowly push the beaded rods into your adorable bimbo bottoms. Each rod is made up of a series of balls, with each ball a little bigger than the one before it. While the beaded rod is entering your tight posteriors, it will also be shooting a semen-like substance into your rectums, to simulate the experience of having a stud back there. It gets very intense, and remember, for every ball that slides through your tight sphincter, the next ball will be even bigger!"

Biff paused, waiting for the cheering to pass.

"Now, bimbos or not, we realize there's only so much your bubble butts can take," continued Biff. "So, when you've reached the moment when you just can't take anymore, you hit the red button that will be under your right hand. Once you press that button, you have lost this round, but the machine will stop from entering you any more and will retract slightly. It will continue to fill you up with the pseudo-semen until a winner is declared, however, because it's good practice for bimbos-in-training!"

"There is one final thing to mention," said Biff. "Most of our girls don't make it past the fifth ball, and only a rare few have made it past the sixth ball. Once you have taken five balls inside you- assuming you last that long- then some of our studs and cuties will come out to play with your more sensitive areas at the start of the sixth ball. Some have found this to be helpful; some have found it to be distracting. Either way, it's pure Bimbomania entertainment!"

The crowd cheered, and Biff indicated that we needed to strip on national television once more. We were getting quite used to being naked, however, and, in fact, it felt embarrassingly natural. We climbed onto the platforms, then, and got onto our hands and knees.

Once I was in position, two techs moved up and began to strap my forearms, thighs and calves into place. One of the techs was Roadkill.

"Try to stay relaxed back there," said Roadkill, speaking quietly out of the side of his mouth. "And remember to breathe. That's the important part. Breathe through it, no matter how much you want to clench."

He finished tightening the straps. There was no give to it, no wiggle room. I was locked in place. My heart started pounded. I was embarrassingly wet. I could smell the masculinity of the techs. I could smell myself. I wanted to cum.

Suddenly I felt fingers pressing into my tight rear opening, and I gasped, heart leaping into my throat. Now there was something warm and squishy back there.

"Lubricant," explained Roadkill.

"A little fucking warning next time!" I said.

Roadkill chuckled. "Next time I'm about to lube you up for a butt-fucking, I'll warn you."

"I'd appreciate it, dammit!" I said.

I heard indignant squeals coming from the others as well, so I knew I wasn't the only one irritated at getting lubed back there on national television. Still, I was glad of it in one way...trying to do this

without

lube would have been distinctly uncomfortable.

Everything went quiet. The lights dimmed, and four spotlights turned on, illuminating each of us individually. There was a low-pitched hum as the back door love machines turned on and came to life.

I forced myself to remain calm. I knew this could be the last event for me, and my nerves were strung tight. I took a deep breath.

Then another spotlight came to life and focused on a man sitting at a table on the side of the stage. He was wearing a tuxedo. When he leaned forward and began speaking into the microphone, I recognized his voice as that of the unseen Paul, who usually did the announcements unseen. However, now he was coaching his voice in the rich sonority and clipped verbs of a British sports announcer.

"Well, we've got a real pressure-cooker going tonight. Four young ladies, two of them on the brink of elimination, all preparing to engage in the Anal Off. This will be a true test of will and in the end, one of these girls will be able to hold their head high."

Then I felt the first ball pressing against my tight rear opening, but it didn't penetrate yet. I instinctively wanted to lean forward, away from that round, penetrating, invasive rod, but my legs were strapped in such a way that any such movement was impossible.

"There's a pause while the machines synchronize," said Paul in that British accent. "The tension is so thick you could cut it with a knife. To a one, these girls appear determined to be the victor of this critical event."

The hum increased slightly, and the pressure against my rear opening began to increase slowly. It was starting.

Thank goodness for the lubrication. I felt the first ball slide into my ass without difficulty, then the second ball. The third ball began to enter, and that one was a little more work. Still, it slid in without major resistance. Then the fourth one pressed against my opening, and it stuck for a moment. Then my muscle relaxed slowly, letting the ball move forward. It wasn't going easily, however. On top of that, I could feel the semen-like substance flooding into my ass.

"All the girls are standing strong," intoned Paul, "but I'm starting to see a few twitches. Tonya is looking a bit wan and Christine has just enunciated a curse. Who will be the first to fall, I wonder?"

I felt breathless as the fourth ball stretched my rear opening. My hand twitched over the red button, but suddenly I felt a surge of relief as the fourth ball suddenly popped inside my ass. My heart was still pounding, though, and I knew I only had a brief respite before the fifth ball began making it's way inside me.

"All four of our warriors have made it past the fourth ball," said Paul. "Their fortitude, their courage, all coming into play today. Truly, we have a match for the ages here."

Then the fifth ball started pressing its way inside me, and I knew I had a problem. I heard Chrissie cursing, and I wanted to join her. My heart was pounding and I knew I couldn't do it. I remembered Roadkill's words, however, and I kept my breathing steady. I made sure to relax as well. Well, to relax as well as someone who is strapped down naked being butt-fucked by a machine on national television can relax, anyway.

"All four of our contestants are amazingly still active, but they are struggling. This is the notorious fifth ball, the point where many of our contestants commonly fall. No round of Ass Off has ever had all four contestants make it past the fifth ball. Will this be the first?"

I could hear Tonya's breath hissing through her teeth, Chrissie was maintaining a steady stream of cursing that would have been funny if I hadn't been otherwise occupied, and I was pretty sure I was whimpering myself. The fifth ball was stretching my rear opening beyond belief, and the only thing stopping me from slamming that red button was knowing that I would be a permanent bimbo once I did. The pressure from the semen filling my ass was building as well. Just when I was sure I couldn't take it a second longer, however, a siren sounded from Chrissie's platform, and her spotlight blinked off, followed a moment later by Tonya's. Then the ball popped inside my abused sphincter, and an explosive gasp escaped my lungs.

"Christine and Tonya have capitulated!" announced Paul. "I repeat, Christine and Tonya have pressed their respective red buttons and have lost this event! Only Erica and Laura remain now, and that is as it should be. Both Erica and Laura are but one letter away from the throne, and these two warriors are going to take it down to the final moment of the event. Now, together, they will face the mighty sixth ball."

I steeled myself for the dreaded pressure to resume, but suddenly gasped as I felt fingers sliding over my oversensitive clit. My overactive sex drive kicked in, and I shuddered and moaned at the unexpected surge of heat. Then the sixth ball started its slow push inside me, and the intensity of the anal sensations combined with my helpless heat to turn me into a wet, squirming, squealing mess.

"Laura and Erica are now contending with the studs and cuties as well as the back door love machines. Both contenders have previously been erotically enhanced, and are now experiencing waves of intense sensations. The sixth ball is reaching critical depth, however, and will soon announce its presence, if it hasn't already. Who will blink first?"

Holy shit. The sixth ball was a mother. My knuckles whitened as the sixth ball slowly, inexorably pushed its way into my rounded bimbo ass. My breathing was ragged and shallow, but as steady as I could make it. I was trying to focus on my heat, my pleasure, anything, but the increasing pressure and burning from that thick round ball was stretching me beyond my ability to concentrate. The endless flow of pseudo-semen continued as well, and I was so embarrassing full back there.

I couldn't do it. I couldn't. It felt like they were pushing a bowling ball up my ass. My teeth were clenched and sweat dotted my forehead. This was it. I looked at Laura as I prepared to give myself up for permanent bimbification.

I couldn't see her. The stage was dark except for my spotlight. And that's when it registered that Laura's siren had sounded and her spotlight was off.

I had won.

I had won!

"Laura has capitulated!" said Paul. "Laura has capitulated! Erica has won this round by standing tall in the Anal Off! The crowd is going wild!"

The crowd was cheering for me, and in a twisted way it felt good. I had given everything I had for this win, and it was nice to hear them recognize that. I knew they would turn on me in a heartbeat, but for this one moment, they were mine.

Of course, that feeling was nothing compared to how good it felt when the back door love machine pulled out of my ass.

The techs descended then to undo the straps and clean off the lube. We got off the platforms very gingerly. Before I even had a chance to dress, Biff stepped up and put his arm around my shoulders.

"Well done, Erica. Your first victory!" said Biff. "Well, they say you have neither lived nor loved until you've had the fifth ball snuggled in your posterior. What's your take on that, Erica?"

My answer to that question was bleeped, as well as my offer to let Biff experience the sensations offered by ball number five first hand.

*****

I had thought they'd give us a few minutes recovery time, but instead they moved Chrissie, Tonya and I to the side of the stage, while two tuxedoed beefcakes escorted Laura to Biff's side. Biff put his arm around Laura.

"Laura, you fought valiantly until the end, and did yourself proud," said Biff. "However, a loss is still a loss, and, as such, you gain a letter." Biff indicated the electronic scoreboard, which now read:

TonyaB...I...M...B...x LauraB...I...M...B...O EricaB...I...M...B...x ChrissieB...I...M...x...x

Laura's name was flashing on and off and giving off a hot pink glow.

"Laura, you've gained all five letters," said Biff. "That means you've earned a trip...a trip to the Bimbo Throne!"

The lights suddenly dimmed and a drum roll sounded. Several spotlights blazed to life and began to circle around the dark stage. A large primary spotlight focused on the center of the stage as the stage whirred and shifted. A large pink ornate throne moved towards the front of the stage.

Laura was escorted to the throne by the beefcakes- each had a grip on her upper arm- and several techs swarmed around them. Biff watched Laura approach the throne, then turned back to the audience.

"It's going to take them several minutes to prep Laura," said Biff, "so, while we're waiting, let's bring Chrissie and Tonya to the Accessory Wheel!"

The crowd cheered, impatient for Laura's throning but realizing there was other entertainment to be utilized while they waited. The side of the stage whirred and shifted, and soon they were standing in front of the Accessory Wheel.

"This round is the primal round for the Accessory Wheel," said Biff. "Tonya, step up on up and give it a whirl!"

Her lips were pressed together in a tight line, but Tonya padded up on her bare feet and grabbed the wheel spokes. She gave the wheel a quick spin and stepped back. There was a brief flurry of clicks as the wheel burst to life, but soon the clicks became more and more distinct as the wheel slowed and finally stopped.

Biff looked at the result and turned back to the audience. "Congratulations, Tonya...you've earned the primal identity of 'Bimbo Bunny'!" said Biff. "This means you'll receive a strand or two of bunny DNA spliced into your genes, resulting in the growth of adorable little bunny ears, a furry little bunny tail and a significantly increased fertility rate! You won't just be barefoot, now...you'll be barefoot and pregnant! Still, don't worry about having a perpetually swelled belly, Tonya...should you end up on the Bimbo Throne, any children you bear will be adopted by parents in the Chrystal Heights' Couples Without Children Society. You'll be providing an invaluable service for couples who are unable to bear children of their own. And between babies, you'll look absolutely adorable with cute bunny ears! Congratulations, Tonya!"

I had to admit it was much more entertaining watching this than being an active participant. Tonya always seemed to get the short end of these things. Tonya had had a nine-day pregnancy when we had stolen the cursed items from the museum, and now she was going to be super fertile, and with her vagina bumps and upcoming erotic enhancement, she was almost assured of a swelled belly from time-to-time. Okay, a lot of the time. And bunny ears? Heh. I was really hoping Chrissie got this one as well.

Biff watched the beefcakes escort Tonya backstage, then turned to Chrissie. "Okay, Christine," said Biff, "let her rip!"

Chrissie scowled, but the expression looked almost cute with Chrissie's adorable pink perm. She reached out with one hand and gave the wheel a spin. The wheel clicked for several seconds before finally slowing down and coming to a stop. Biff looked at the result, then turned to the audience.

"Congratulations, Christine...you've earned the primal identity of 'The Cat's Meow!' This means you'll receive a strand or two of cat DNA spliced directly into your genes. This will give you a tendency to express yourself in meows or purrs, and, periodically, you'll be going into heat! Congratulations, Christine!"

Chrissie did not look happy, and even better, along with the cat DNA, she was going to be getting bimbo boobs as well. It had not been a good day for Chrissie. I gave her a smug look as she was escorted backstage, which would have been more effective had I not suddenly had an unexpected random orgasm right then. On national television, no less. Again.

Stupid game show.

*****

Chrissie and Tonya made it back on-stage just as they finished prepping Laura. Tonya's cheeks were flushed and it was obvious she was feeling the full effect of her now bimboed sex drive. Chrissie now sported huge bimbo boobs, and she was furious. I thought it was hysterical.

"Hey, Chrissie, nice rack," I said.

"Lick me, wench," said Chrissie. "Meeoooowwwww!"

Chrissie's eyes widened at her meow, and she clapped a hand over her mouth. Muffled curses and meows could be heard.

"Okay, it's time for Laura to experience the Bimbo Throne!" said Biff. The lights dimmed once more, with a single spotlight shining on the Throne. Laura was sitting in the Throne, her arms and legs strapped into position. On her head was a tiara. There appeared to be several jewels in the tiara, but in actuality, they were lights. Unseen by the audience, there were several wires running through Laura's hair.

"Okay, Laura..." said Biff, as a drum roll sounded. "Prepare to become...Lori!" He nodded to a tech who was off-stage and just out of sight of the audience.

The tech pulled a lever. The Throne began to glow a very intense hot pink and the lights on Laura's tiara began to flicker rapidly. A loud humming was heard as well.

"Becoming a bimbo doesn't necessarily entail becoming brainless," said Biff. "We've all known very smart bimbos, right? The Throne is rearranging Laura's logic processes and ability to prioritize. Also, it is rearranging several processes and enhancing others. Addition? Not a priority. Showing cleavage? Definite priority. Yes, Laura's I.Q. will dip below ninety, although this will be more a reflection of her inability to logic things out than an actual reflection of her intelligence."