Futanarious Bimbosis Ch 01

- A Note from the Author -

If you don't know me I am the Futa Contractor. I have an addiction to Futanari, Bimbofication, and other such nonsense that I wish were real. It is a unique fetish and probably doesn't get most people off. I can actually say that I enjoy about ninety percent of the Futanari culture that has developed online, and I have tried to make my series available to the public. I was recently contacted by another fellow Futanari Fetishist named Shobe. Shobe has decided to leave writing their series to pursue personal needs. I offered some help and Shobe in turn handed over the original Manuscript from their title "Futanarious Bimobsis".

I had a couple of other projects I had been working on that Shobe enjoyed and felt that I could bring the story they had written into proper closure. I read through and ejoyed what they had, but decided to better suit the writing style to do it from a Third Person perspective. I hope that Shobe enjoys the modifications and changes I made to the title and I hope that you as my readers understand that this series I am completing is partially from another Author and that you respect their style. Thank you all so much and I am glad that you have continued on with following my series. I hope you enjoy Shobe's "Futanarious Bimbosis"

♥FutaContractor

Tiffany never felt right in her head. She felt that there was something truly wrong with her on a deeper psychological level. It was the only way that she was able to identify herself, as disturbed or unnerved. It wasn't the best outlook to have on life, but it was the only way that she knew how. She had made some mistakes and decisions throughout her days that weren't really for the world's best interest. She could feel her heart grow heavy when she thinks about the horrible things she had done, well the horrible things she has done to one particular person. She sat at her desk staring at a blank document her hands poised on the keyboard preparing to write up a confession, but her fingers couldn't seem to move. Her hands began to shake and she felt her head grow dizzy. She was going to have to resign, and probably wind up going to prison for the mistakes that she had made. She wouldn't last in prison, but it seemed the only logical response to what she had done. It was only a little more than two weeks since the incident took place.

She lifted her index finger ready to type and began to feel the tears well up in the corners of her eyes. She couldn't have done all this in such a short amount of time. It wasn't that she had meant for the result to come out like it did. All she wanted to do was get some payback. She wanted that final moment of triumph.

Let's clear up some of the confusion by going back to before this all started. Back to the beginning.

Tiffany Vanderwall grew up in Pasadena California in the great United States of America; at least that is what she had been told her entire life. It was never a terrible place to her, but she learned that it really didn't matter which country you lived in it would always be fucked up. As a child she was never bullied or picked on, and she was proud of the decent amount of friends she had collected over the years. She was never an aggressive go getter, but she was strong willed and smart headed. She got decent grades throughout her entire educational career and never really felt challenged. Her parents weren't strict people and that is probably another reason why she turned out the way she did. She wasn't sheltered and that only made her want to see life and understand more of why it was and what you could do to make it better.

As for appearance, Tiffany Vanderwall was not an incredible beauty queen. She was average. In fact the word average could almost sum her entire appearance up. She was slightly taller than some girls, but shorter than most. She was of a smaller build, but not rail thin like the models and not chunky like the tabloid magazine covers. She had pitch black hair that fell loose around her collarbone; she never bothered with fashion sense or sexy style. She would normally pay someone very little to get the ends trimmed and bangs cut in so her hair didn't get in her chocolate brown eyes while she was trying to work on something. Often times she was hunched over a counter or table reading a document, or typing an email. She wouldn't say that she was the best employee, but she did find her pastimes or hobbies more of what gave her a daily drive for life.

Tiffany Vanderwall had a problem with people who rubbed their success in her face. She was growing tired of people treating her like she was inferior based on her age, being twenty five. It was those that were arrogant, self-centered, and pompous that seemed to control her and radiate around her. They were all somehow in charge, and it was beginning to drive her crazy. She had graduated proudly from college and was a now full-fledged scientist in the fascinating field of bio-genetics. She loved the way that sentence would roll of her tongue. There was an issue with being a scientist though; it wasn't that great of pay especially in this economy. Most of the lab had been shut down and there were entire sections that had been dark for over two months now. It was all because some upper management decided to embezzle some money in the wrong place and they had lost most of their funding. So she had been reduced to working ten hours a week on one of the last remaining projects the facility had left while they were busy liquidating assets and patents. Tiffany was forced to find a day job until she could find another bio-genetics lab to work for. The only job that she was suited for seemed to be a boring mind numbing office job, forced to sit in a grey walled cubicle hour after hour day after day.

She hated that job with a passion. It wasn't really because of the work, or the co-workers. Well that isn't entirely true; she had one person she hated in particular, though the word 'co-worker' doesn't really apply to the person that she despised. Her name was Jen. Jen Parks. Tiffany couldn't help but chew the end of her pen when the woman would walk by her cubicle in the office. She could tell it was Jen by how lightly she would step, but how loudly the sharp pointed stiletto heel would grind into the carpet. Tiffany could only use one word to describe the woman. She was a bitch, in every sense of the word. Tiffany felt like the woman was trained by an army of douchebags for four years and became a general of all bitches.

Jen was incredibly attractive. She was gorgeous, and even Tiffany would find herself watching her shapely hips sway back and forth as she sashayed through the building. Jen wasn't shy about her appearance. She always seemed to wear clothing that was on the verge of showing off too much, but maintaining some form of office appropriate. Often enough co-workers would send around emails with pictures of Jen next to a celebrity to see which was closer to appearance. She had the body of Scarlett Johansson but with the face shape of Olivia Wilde, but her skin and hair reminded Tiffany of Kate Upton. It was horrible being around that woman. Tiffany had a box of pencils she kept in her top drawer of her desk so she could grip it between her fingers every time Jen walked by, just so she could have something to break without going into a fit of rage. It wasn't only the fact that the woman was drop dead gorgeous; but that she wasn't afraid to flaunt it and that she knew she was beautiful.

Aside from looks, Jen had the worst attitude you could expect from a diva. She knew she was amazing and talented and aggressive and she would make sure that everyone around her suffered like peons under her boot. Jen had taken up wearing what she called 'power hair'. She would take her long flowing chestnut hair and wind it up as tight as she could. Tiffany had begun to say it was like a toy that children have. When you wind the car it takes off when you let it go. Jen would wind her hair into a tight bun at the back of her head and throughout the day, rather than making obnoxious sounds like a toy car, she would pester and complain to every person in the office. She had really let the power get to her head when she became the team manager at least that is what Tiffany had heard. She hadn't been with the company for more than three months and really didn't plan on staying longer than necessary because of that evil woman.

Jen began to take on a new approach to annoying her staff though. She had decided that instead of sharing the workload with the staff, she would collect three or four extremely difficult contracts and hold them on her desk until it was nearing the due date. She would then find the people who were farthest behind and make these new contracts the higher priority, and if they didn't get them done by the end of the day they would get fired. She said it gave the firm an edge of meeting deadlines precisely, and for PR to see that we had staff working double time on it. She also just enjoyed firing people for not being able to finish their work on time.

Tiffany's schedule had to be adjusted so many times because of that horrible woman. She still wanted to remain on the project that she and the other lab consultant had been working on together for the past year. They were so close to finding a way of relieving extreme allergens without injections or pills. They were finding a way to bond it with fluoride but they hadn't quite gotten it completed. At least out of the last ten lab rats they had tested it on, four had survived, and only one didn't lose a limb from the concoction. The results were terrible, but Tiffany felt they were getting close. She was having scheduling issues though because of Jen's new power trip.

Tiffany would go to work from Eight thirty in the morning to four at the contracting office Monday through Friday. She didn't get a lunch break, and had fifteen minutes to sit in the break room for coffee, though she avoided the break room so Jen couldn't claim she saw Tiffany not doing work. Tiffany would then juggle her lab schedule with her partner from six thirty to nine of ten at night, whenever they both got frustrated and decided it was time to call it quits. They would get together Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. The jobs didn't have conflict at first, and Tiffany was quite proud of what she was able to do with such little time, but Jen Parks could somehow sense that Tiffany was starting to do well. Somehow Jen would find a way to crush the spirit out of Tiffany and she would do it sooner or later until Tiffany either broke or was fired.

Today was a particularly normal Monday for Tiffany though. She had arrived at the office a few minutes early to take a quick breather before seeing her Diva of a boss stroll into the building. As she sat down at her desk, adjusting her skirt and straightening her blouse she could hear the chatter as the other co-workers made their way in. Jen always made a point of showing up exactly one minute after everyone was supposed to be in the office. She liked to observe who was diligent about their work, and who needed to get fired. Tiffany read through emails from the previous night, and there was a message from Diana Thompson. Diana was her lab partner that had been working with her on the project for years. Tiffany didn't have much time to read over what was in the message when an all too familiar spiked walk echoed in the quiet room. The devil woman had arrived and Tiffany had not really been prepared for her to walk in right at that moment. Her inbox that sat on the corner of her desk had three manila envelopes that were unopened, and Tiffany could only assume that would mean that Jen was going to make her the next target.

Jen had always mistreated Tiffany, but it seemed that today was going to be the day that Jen finally tried to get fired. What the hell was wrong with this woman? Tiffany wheeled around on the hard mat that sat under the wheels of her chair. She reached out her hand to snag the envelopes, and Jen stepped around the edge of the Cubicle like a spider. She pounced on Tiffany, gently rubbing her fingertip along top edge the white coffee mug in her hand.

"Why hello Tiffany, I see you have a bit of mail to get through this morning." She said, even her voice sounded sensual and luscious. Tiffany looked up at her trying to hold back the anger. She smoothed her face and started to try and think of calming things.

"Ms. Parks." She said as cold and flat as she could.

"We needn't be so formal Tiffany." She said stepping forward, her smooth hip swayed and her heel landed sharply on the ground near Tiffany's own foot. She winced at looked up at the woman getting a perfect view of her plunging neckline on the suit top she was wearing. She had a skirt that matched the gun metal coloration of the jacket. It was all tightly pressed against her and emphasized her power thirst, "I don't like being so rigid with my... co-workers." She said just as flat as Tiffany had said her name. She leaned back and sat gingerly on the edge of Tiffany's desk. Jen grabbed the top envelope and mouthed the sender, "I thought you were finished with the Thomason account."

"I have been waiting for that to come in so I could clean it up a bit before making the presentation letters for corporate." Tiffany said trying to smooth her tones so as not to bite at Jen.

"Well I think that Corporate would be very glad to hear that, they only have one problem though. This was supposed to be turned in by tomorrow morning. I am sure the shareholders wouldn't really enjoy being told that there was an account that was just sitting in an inbox on one of my staff's desks. I am sure that you can handle finishing this on time though, you are a smart girl after all." Jen said eyeing Tiffany up and down with a look of pure enjoyment. Tiffany tried not to squirm under the woman's gaze, "or perhaps you being a mad scientist has slowed your performance down with this firm." Tiffany felt each word puncture her through like an arrow released from a tightly wound bow.

"Genecist Jen. I am a mad Genecist." Tiffany bit the words off definitely.

"Well whatever seems to get you off is fine with the company, seeing as how they adjusted their schedules for you. I have one problem though, they said if your performance slacks then they will have to let you go. Today seems like a good one for a performance review. Let's play a game shall we? If this report isn't on my desk by exactly eight thirty in the morning, you will not have to bother coming in to the office." Jen said lifting her supine body from the edge of Tiffany's desk. She was a lioness who just downed a gazelle on the Serengeti. She was triumphant and Tiffany could feel the tears well in the corners of her eyes.

"This will take all day, and probably push me into overtime to have it done by tomorrow." Tiffany said, her voice more shrill than she had expected. A hushed quiet took over the cubicle area, and soon the clicking of mice and keyboards erupted as people started to bury themselves in their work to avoid a confrontation with Jen.

"I am sure that you will have to make a major decision today then. Either you prove you are interested in this firm, or you pick your silly lab coat up and leave us." Jen said turning around. She didn't allow the blow to sink in before stalking away from Tiffany's desk. That woman was truly horrible. Tiffany quickly opened the letters but was unable to see the print from the tears that were still in her eyes. She stood up and straightened he paperwork before heading off to a bathroom stall. Tonight she and Diana were going to go over something new that had transpired with the germification at least that is the little part of what she could read before that horrible woman entered her cubicle.

Tiffany closed the stall door and sat down promptly on the toilet. She raised her feet up and pressed them against the door, preventing anyone from looking in and seeing someone was in there sobbing silently to themselves about how tough life can be as an adult. Tiffany had found this a normal pass time, crying to herself in the bathroom. She did it all through high school and college, and expected to not do it while at work. She never really had done it while at the lab, but in the past couple of months while working at the firm it was all she could do to prevent herself from living in the restroom.

The door banged open and a familiar pair of high heels clicked in. Tiffany could make out intense panting and she leaned down a little bit covering her mouth to make her breathing quieter. A pair of pristinely shined black shoes stood close to Jen's sharp stilettos. The door gently closed and a man's voiced whispered, "Jen I am so excited to be here with you."

"Shut up and fuck me already. This isn't like we are in love, I just need to blow of some steam and it has been a few weeks." Jen's voice sounded placid and monotone. The man was obviously panting and soon his pants were around his ankles. Jen's heels pointed towards the sink and Tiffany watched with shock as a black lace thong dropped to the floor. The man began to pant even harder and Jen let out a soft purr. It wasn't quite a moan, but Tiffany could tell that the man had penetrated her. Who was this? How often did this happen at this office? Tiffany felt herself growing aroused from listening to the couple gently and quietly screwing each other in the bathroom of their work place. Tiffany let her hand drift down and she began to rub her soft moist pussy through her green and white striped panties she had on that day. Each time the man would let out a muted grunt, Tiffany would push her fingers further into her now aching pussy.

She wasn't sexually active, but she did enjoy the idea of voyeurism. This was the perfect scenario being played out, even if it involved Jen Parks. Tiffany tried not to think about Jen, but about the man who was obviously on the verge of cumming. Tiffany bit her lip silencing her own oncoming wave of pleasure. The man's feet shook a bit, and Tiffany assumed he had curled his toes in his shoes from the orgasm he had just had. Jen let out a soft coo of satisfaction and stepped towards the sink. Tiffany also achieved her orgasm just moments later and she adjusted her skirt back into its place, still keeping her feet pressed to the stall door.

The man shivered and the sound of a condom being dumped in the toilet next to where Tiffany was stowed away echoed in the bathroom. He pulled up his pants and flushed, Jen had already adjusted her clothing back into place, at least from what Tiffany could tell.

"Jen, that was incredible thank you so much." The voice sounded familiar to her, but Tiffany couldn't quite tell who it was since they were both still talking in sharp whispered tones.

"Once again, this never happened and it will never happen again. Mark my words, this is a once in a lifetime thing, don't expect more than that or I will have you fired for sexual harassment." Jen said quickly stepping out of the room. The man walked to the sink and washed his hands shaking them dry. He let out a soft sigh and followed Jen out of the room. Tiffany quickly opened the stall door and cleaned herself up in the mirror. She could take this to the head honchos and get Jen fired, but in turn Jen could also turn the tables on her claiming that Tiffany didn't get her work done and spent time hiding in the bathroom. She let out a sigh. At least that would distract her from not being able to work on the Thomason account.

The day sailed by, and Tiffany didn't even bother with taking a break. She had sent a quick instant message over to Diana about not being able to make it in tonight because she had an extreme amount of work come up. Diana was obviously upset, but told Tiffany she had better show up to their next lab. When Tiffany finally put the last signature and seal from the corporation on the contract papers she looked up at the clock. It was eight fifteen in the evening. She had worked straight through for almost eleven hours. She shook her head and picked up the contract. She gently punched holes and slipped the papers into a plastic cover folder. She made sure the words lined up perfectly so Jen would see the words stabbing out at her. Jen needed to see that Tiffany needed the money and that she wasn't going to get fired so easily.