Wike, Totawwy Bimbo! Pt. 01

Wike, Totawwy Bimbo! Part One.

A Few Words in Advance.

This is not my usual kind of story; it isn't even mine. One day, quite a few years ago, I ran into this curious Internet phenomenon of chain-writing. It seems that everyday hundreds of people are busy adding to existing stories. A lot of them are about TV celebrities and superheroes. Usually these characters, like Superman or Wonder Woman, are having their adventures transported into the realm of porn. Happily, there usually is a healthy dose of bizarre humor involved, but of course, the writing skills aren't always the best.

The story I fell into was about Buffy The Vampire Slayer. This was a show that has been on TV for a while, back in the nineties, and seems to still have quite a few fans. It featured mostly women who have this knack of doing battle with demons and other monsters from a nether world. Of all places they are situated in a Los Angeles suburb called Sunnydale.

I had no special knowledge of or affection for the TV show, but by then I was a big fan of another Internet phenomenon, called BimboTech Incorporated. BimboTech Inc, in short BTI. It is a place where usually disgruntled or feminist women are transformed into giggling, big haired and even bigger titted bimbos. Many readers consider this women-hating, I just saw the silly surrealistic humor of it all, and a healthy dose of satire.

Now this ongoing Buffy story was about the undaunted vampire slayer Buffy Summers and her famous friends being caught by BTI and transformed. I started contributing and got really into it. In close concert with the dynamo behind the project, we decided that our story should not suffer the fate of so many other chain stories. They hardly ever end properly. So, we asked the creator of BTI for his support and he even suggested a nice ending of our adventure.

Well, to be short, I edited the whole thing, taking out illogical twists, discontinuities, repetitions, poor grammar, etc. I tried to marry all the different styles and did my best to ensure that all characters are at least 18 years old. And hoopla! here it is.

Before reading it, please know that you have to thank not just the BTI-creator but also many of my other fellow writers.

Just have fun, whether you consider it horror or satire.

angiquesophie.

A Busy Day at The Office.

Tall windows let in the bright Los Angeles sun. A man walked past the lights and shadows it painted on the vast marble floor. He was a well-preserved forty-ish gentleman of the tall and handsome variety. His suit was dark and expensive, his name was George Archibald Fink, and yes, he'd rather die than use that second name.

Fink owned the building; he also was the CEO of the firm it housed. That firm was called BimboTech Incorporated and this site was just one of their subsidiaries. Other branches had been opened recently in London, England and Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. Many more would open their doors in the near future.

BTI was a blatant success. Only three years had passed after he and his associates took over a small and insignificant pharmaceutical dwarf in Chicago. He'd come a long way. "Cum, indeed," Fink chuckled under his breath. He glanced over to the girls in reception. They looked like they were all three in a happy daze. Vacant smiles decorated their painted faces. They also shared big, blonde hair and a set of incredible tits. As it seemed they didn't care much to conceal them. Black leather miniskirts stretched over their nicely stuffed asses, well, they almost did. A casual onlooker might have called them slutty triplets. It would have made them giggle.

A giant neon sign covered the entire wall behind the blondes. It showed the outline of a kneeling woman, endowed as generously as the girls before her. "A woman's place is on her knees," the sign said. Fink remembered the afternoon he'd thought it up. He preferred to forget that it had actually been an idea of one of his associates, but what was the difference anyway? He was the boss, wasn't he?

Fink nodded in the direction of the air-headed bimbos. They erupted in a fit of giggles, which made their sweet melons jiggle dutifully in their low-cut tops. Fink continued and took the elevator to the fifth floor, where management was located. The lift-operator tapped his cap.

"Have a satisfying day, Jimmy," Fink said when he left the car.

"I'll do my utmost, Sir," the older man said with a twinkle in his eyes.

Fink reached his office. His personal secretary at once greeted him. Her name was Tittiefuck, and not without reason. Before the buyout, back in Chicago, Tittiefuck had been a rather brilliant scientist. She developed subliminal techniques to help people quit smoking and kick other habits. She was a proud, independent black career-woman who'd never felt the need for a husband in her life. Her company dealt with all sorts of pharmaceutical products. She served as its president.

Now however, the brilliant woman was in a different position altogether. Fink had stolen her products, her technologies, and her company out from under her. He turned it into BimboTech Inc. He also turned its former boss into something different, taking away a few things, and adding some others. To say Tittiefuck had been dumbed down would be an understatement; the only thing she was an expert in now, was letting herself be used as a fuck doll. Anything for her new sweet Master.

Tittiefuck did not hide her excitement when Fink entered, or her enormous boobs, for that matter. They showed off nicely in the plunging neckline of her tight, bright yellow mini dress. Its flimsy fabric also showcased her rock-hard nipples. Large plastic hoop earrings dangled from her ears. As a matter of taste, they were in the same color as her dress. Tittiefuck's makeup was excessive, to say the least. Her black, glossy hair had been teased very high, adding quite nicely to her slutty appearance.

"Good morning, Tittiefuck," Fink said casually. The black bimbo sunk to her knees and began to undo his belt. "Before you begin, honey, what is on the agenda today?"

"Good mownin', Mashta!" Tittiefuck giggled, freeing Fink's cock. "Um, t'day, ya, wike, hafta meet wif de biznessh-people abou' de shexhy hewoinesh! Aya gonna, wike, make 'em happy wike me?" Fink smiled uneasily at this. His lawyers were going to meet with him today; they were also his main investors. It made him uncomfortably aware of his dependence, especially since the people they'd send would not hesitate to stress the point. Fink tried to relax, but the thought made him wince.

Tittiefuck used her plumped-up, shiny lips to give her precious Mashta head. He knew there was much to do today, he wouldn't have a chance to give her a proper fucking. He might even have to alert all his scientists for an extended tour. And the girls, of course. Running his hands through Tittiefuck's large hair, he guided her fat, enhanced lips. He'd love to take advantage of all of the talents he had bestowed on her. First things first, though.

"Tittiefuck," he said. "I want all the girls ready for when our guests arrive. Tell them that no one is allowed to touch herself until they arrive. I want them on edge and looking as slutty as possible. If this means that the salons need to be opened early today, so be it."

Today and the weeks following would be a nasty bump in his way to success. He could not allow himself to make a mistake, but if he could pull it off, nothing would stand in his way to absolute power anymore. Whoever wanted his wife or girlfriend to be turned into a bimbo would just have to take her (and a hefty sum of money) to BimboTech Inc. She would emerge a happy, air headed, slutty sex kitten, custom made and designed to perfection. She would be forever devoted to her Master. And her Master to him, George (skip the Archibald) Fink.

BimboTech already could do that. And the ways to do it had become faster and cheaper through the years. These coming weeks would decide if there would be anyone left to begrudge him the earnings of his labor. With a groan Fink let the first blast of the day splash into the ecstatic face of his favorite bimbo. It dripped onto her panting tits.

***

Fink stepped into his large office, where he greeted his three guests. Seated in the chairs in front of his desk were Lilah Morgan and Gavin Park, two representatives of the law firm of Wolfram & Hart. There also was their staff liaison to the senior partners, Eve. As far as Fink knew Eve was only human in appearance. Wolfram & Hart were a front; they existed to see after the interests of a group of demons, who obviously could not deal with the human world directly. So, they'd spawned creatures the likes of this petite woman, Eve. She sat on his desk with her bare legs crossed. One foot tapped the desk-side impatiently.

Fink hated to deal with her and Lilah. To him the concept of having to treat any woman as an equal repulsed him. It undermined everything he and his organization stood for. Clearly Eve knew that; she took every opportunity to rub it in his face, but he had to live with it. Running Bimbo Tech was an expensive job. It often produced legal complications and Wolfram & Hart were more than willing to take care of financial problems as well as legal ones. When necessary, they provided all his projects with new identities; they also erased the old ones.

"Mr. Fink, a pleasure to see you," said Gavin Park. He rose to shake his hand. Fink knew neither Lilah nor Eve would ever extend him the courtesy.

"Now with the pleasantries over, let's get down to business," said Eve. "Wolfram & Hart have done you a lot of favors in getting set up. now you're going to do something for us."

"Of course," replied Fink. He knew full well what double-crossing these people could do to him.

"One of our clients is preparing for a large-scale operation throughout California," said Lilah. "The details do not concern you. There are certain forces that need to be eliminated in order to accommodate our client's needs." She handed Fink a file. He opened it. Inside were pictures and reports about several women. "The first two work for a detective agency here in Los Angeles. The brunette is a top priority; she is of great benefit to her employer," continued Lilah.

"Without her out of the way, our client's operation will be compromised. For deniability, our client will be left unaware of our plans," added Gavin. Fink looked at the picture of Cordelia Chase. His trained eye could easily see how to enhance the depraved slut in her.

"The second girl isn't of as much importance. However, her superior intellect does pose a problem. I trust you can make sure she won't be able to outsmart a vegetable after you had a go at her?" Lilah added, smiling her deep-freeze smile.

"Not a problem," replied Fink. He read through the information on the young science specialist.

"The next group is from a place called Sunnydale, a suburb exactly on the site we need for our client. Once the first two are dealt with, we will make the arrangements to lure them here," said Eve. "Only three of them are of any priority. But the chances are you'll need to deal with at least four of them."

"The redhead is a powerful witch. Her partner too," added Lilah. Fink stopped looking at the information for Willow Rossenberg and Tara McClay. He stared at Lilah. "Witches?" he asked. "You mean the rumors about all the supernatural crap you people do are true?"

"That isn't important, Fink," answered Lilah Morgan with a patronizing smile. It made Fink fume inside. "Rossenberg has the power to derail our plans; she needs to be dealt with as will the Slayer, Buffy Summers. The ex-demon Anya may also be a problem. She has no power anymore, but she does possess a long memory with a vast amount of knowledge on certain matters. She is also incredibly self-centered; she may not bother to join the other three when they come to you."

Fink's guests got up to leave. He said, "If all these women are as powerful as you say then what makes you think I can take care of them and not get killed?" Eve smiled coldly and patted his face.

"You'll find a way," she grinned. "But I'm sure no one here will be losing any sleep if you do get yourself killed, darling. Just make sure the job is done in time. If not, dying will be the least of your worries." Fink hardly disguised his irritation. He felt used and despised. They didn't even fake interest in his proud company; they already left. No showing around, no compliments.

"And how do I get these private investigators here?" he asked.

"Just keep doing what you're doing," the cold girl said. "I'm sure someone is bound to come looking for one of your girls sooner or later. Just beware their tall dark brooding boss doesn't take on the investigation. That would give you real trouble." Eve smiled. Then she followed Lilah and Gavin out.

Searching for a Lost Roommate.

"Yes, I'm looking for Susan Murphy." Winifred Burkle, better known as Fred, stood up from her desk, talking into her phone. Of late, she hadn't had much chance to catch up with old college friends; she figured it was high time. However, looking for her old college roommate proved harder than she thought. Cordelia Chase walked by. Fred slammed the phone down.

"Problems?" Cordelia asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, hi Cordy. I've just spent the last couple hours looking for an old roommate of mine. It seems nobody knows where she is. It wouldn't be like Susan to just disappear on her old friends. I mean, sure, I did, but..."

"Did you try your old school? They may know something," Cordelia said.

"Of course, that was the first I did!" Fred said, irritated. Then she saw a number she'd overlooked; it was of a member of Susan's sorority. Fred had never cared about joining. As it turned out, the woman she contacted had actually heard from Susan. She was working at a pharmaceutical company called BT Inc. Fred found this odd. If Susan obviously still lived in L. A., why would she not keep in touch with any of the old friends Fred had contacted?

"Cordy, have you heard anything about a BT Inc by any chance?" Fred asked.

"Can't say I have," Cordelia said. Then her face lit up. "Is that where your old friend is? We should go there and look her up!"

"We?" Fred asked. It confused her why Cordelia should want to go with her. Cordelia rolled her eyes.

"Sweet Fred, we've been sulking in this stuffy place for too long, lately," she said. "I think that a girls' night out would be fun. Let's find your old roomy and have some fun. I mean, we're entitled to it!" Fred frowned. She knew she wasn't your typical fun person, but she neither was the type of person to turn away a friend. So, if Cordelia wanted to go and surprise Susan with her, then so be it. They left a note for the guys and set off to find this BT Incorporated. Which wasn't easy at all.

***

The mousy man wore a simple suit and carried a briefcase. Occasionally he nodded at the friendly smiling women. The first few had surprised him with their extreme assets packed into outrageous outfits, and their quite unsubtle way of moving and ogling him. He'd shrugged; they seemed all too common around this place. He arrived at Fink's office and was surprised not to find one more of these bimbo secretaries at her desk. Then he heard passionate moans coming from behind the door to the main office. He adjusted his tie and opened it.

He always had been the phlegmatic type. Laying his eyes on the scene in front of him, his expression never faltered. An overly curvaceous black bimbo lay face down on the desk, her enormous tits pressed against the oak wood. The man he knew was Fink, fucked her royally from behind. As the visitor entered the room, Fink pulled out his dripping cock with a plop. The woman groaned in disappointment.

"What is the meaning of this!?" Fink roared. "Can't you goddammit even knock?" It made the bimbo jump in surprise, her tits jiggling with the sudden movement. The visitor just held out his hand. Fink looked at him oddly. "Who are you?"

"The name is Becker," the man said. "I'm now the BimboTech liaison to Wolfram and Hart." Fink packed his cock back in his pants, wiping his hand on the bimbo's tiny dress before extending it. Becker politely refused to shake it. "Before you accuse me of stepping on your toes," Becker said. "I want you to know that I'm only here to help and advice. Wolfram and Hart have dealt with the target people before; we know how dangerous they can be. Forgive me for being rude, but you aren't ready for a challenge such as this."

"I've been changing women into bimbos for a very long time, Mr. Becker. Believe me, I know how to handle special cases!" Fink said, referring to his black secretary.

"Sir, you're dealing with elements of the supernatural," Becker answered softly. "If you want to continue your operation without the police investigating, you will listen to what I say. Mr. Fink don't worry, you're still in control here. Now, if I could give you a briefing on what you're dealing with, at least on the short term...?" Fink looked quizzically at this intruder. If what Becker said was true and Wolfram and Hart weren't going to interfere, then fine. For some reason, though, he knew he had to keep a wary eye on this Mr. Becker; he could do without spies. For the moment he'd just wait and see what information he had.

"What information do you have?" Fink asked. Becker opened his briefcase and pulled out two files. He handed them to Fink, who saw that they were profiles of Cordelia Chase and Winifred Burkle. They had past histories, weaknesses, strengths, and other information on the girls. They also included photographs. Fink realized how beautiful the two women were. His already teased cock began to stiffen as he imagined what he could do with them.

"Cordelia Chase is originally from Sunnydale. She came to L. A. in hopes of becoming an actress. She has a strong will and comes from a once rich background. She might make a good porn star. Miss Burkle recently spent some time in an alternate dimension before the demon fighter Angel saved her. She is a very intelligent woman and can be quite shy at times. With your help though, I think she can lose that pesky intellect, and find her inner slut. Maybe she could be a lab assistant around here?"

"Bu' ishn't a wab 'shishtant 'shposed ta be, wike, shmart?" the black bimbo lisped from behind her enhanced lips. She was busy hoisting her melons back into her tight dress. Fink and Becker laughed. Fink patted the girl on her teased hair.

"Of course, you haven't forgotten, honey? In here, Tittiefuck, a lab assistant is a sextoy for the male scientists. They're ever so useful and have the times of their lives relieving their boss's stress." Tittiefuck giggled at this.

"Shienche ish, wike, shoooo bo'in'!" she said. "Lucky gaw'sh gonna be a wab 'shishtant!"

"Mr. Becker," Fink boomed jovially, turning away from the ditzy bimbo. He had to let the man feel who was on top. "Keep these ideas coming. We might want to have you around for a long time!" Becker smiled slightly. He knew he would be around for a bit, no matter what Fink wanted.

***

As Fink left Becker standing in his office the man pulled out his cell phone. He made a call to Lilah.

"So how did he take the news of our involvement?" she asked.

"As was expected. But he's aware that if he wants to continue working, he has to do what we say. Girls aren't the only ones who disappear in this town after all," replied Becker.

"And how are his efforts proceeding?"

"He proved more useful than anticipated," Becker said. "He located an old college friend of the Burkle girl and offered her a placement here. It was a bid to lure Angel Investigations to him. He is currently making plans on what to do when they come."

"You did inform him that once all our targets have been acquired, they are to be turned over to Wolfram & Hart front companies, didn't you?"

"Not yet. He seemed rather displeased at my presence. I thought I'd wait for that one."

"Very well. Companies have already been lined up for Chase and Burkle. We are right now creating their new identities and personal profiles. You will contact me as soon as you have the girls. I'll have the information sent over with the details of what we want done."

"Very well," Becker said. He ended the call and left the office.

***

Fink was in deep thought when he got a call. Reception asked him to come to the front desk. He took the elevator to the ground floor and stepped out. One of the busty platinum-haired receptionists was talking to a blond police officer. She was among the more intelligent girls in the building, that is to say, she still possessed basic skills in picking up the phone without mixing up the buttons. She was also expert in filing her fingernails while looking bored.

"Ummm, Mashta Fwink shi'," the receptionist said. "Dish woman wanna, like, shpeak to ya about shome missin' giwl an' stuff."

"You in charge?" asked the cop when Fink approached the reception. She was tall and attractive, even in her police-garb, or maybe because of it?

"Yes officer," he said extending his hand. "Fink."

"Officer Lockley," she replied. "I'm investigating the disappearance of a young woman. Her car was found illegally parked outside your offices. I need to ask you a couple of questions."

"Of course, I'm only too glad to help," said Fink, scolding himself for being so careless as to leave a car in plain sight. "Still," he thought as he looked at the blond cop, "it may not be all bad."

Two Intrepid Investigators.

From Fred's information BimboTech Inc was some kind of medical research center. It was located in an industrial district downtown. They hadn't obviously marked it, but there was an odd neon sign at the top, looking like the silhouette of a woman on her knees. Her sketchy profile sported rather provocative curves, not really what one might expect from a medical institution. Fred had also managed to find out how two weeks earlier BTI had sent a representative round to her old college. They'd said they were looking for prospective employees. One of those new employees obviously was her old school friend. So now the two of them stood outside.

For a building in a neighborhood like this, BTI had quite a posh entrance. The huge glass door slid open with a sigh. Cool air pushed against their dresses as they walked in, making Fred shiver. The marble-and-glass hall was huge; they had to cross yards of slick tiles to get to the imposing desk, where an appallingly slutty girl sat filing her nails.

"Shoo-shun who?" she said with wide-open sky-blue eyes in a halo of heavily painted lashes.

"Susan Murphy," Fred repeated. Her eyes were locked on the immense tits that the girl's open blouse hardly concealed. "She works here." The girl giggled.

"Hea' no giwlsh called Shu-shan, wike, wowk, honey," she said, and returned to her fingernails. Fred looked over to Cordelia, exasperated.

"Won't you look it up, please?" she asked.

"No need," the blonde answered. She pouted her pulpous lips. "No Shu-shan wowk 'e'e. Shu... shannn," she repeated stupidly and giggled. It did interesting things to her abundant cleavage. Cordelia stepped forward.

"Can I please see your HR officer, darling?" The "darling" made the girl look up and smile.

"Uhmm," she said. "Wha'sh aidzj ahh?"

"Your boss?" Cordelia tried with a sigh.

"Moment," the blonde bimbo said and pushed a large red button with one of her crazy-nailed fingers. Then she sat back and resumed her filing.

***

Fink sat in his office. He watched the front desk security monitor.

"Should we pick them up, sir?" asked the guard next to him.

"No, wait," he said. "No need to reveal ourselves yet. Let me send them Tittiefuck and see how they handle that." He chuckled and rose to stretch his tall body. "We'll see them again at the door tonight. So much quieter then." Fink turned back to the monitor, once more watching the girls. He could pretty well guess what their bodies looked like under the thin summer dresses. He zoomed in on their faces. Yes, they were them, and both very pretty. Easy candidates for the BimboTech treatment, he thought.

The one called Cordelia had a dirty mischievous look about her. It just screamed to be transferred into the BTI equivalent of a "horny depraved slut". Fred on the other hand was a sweet innocent natural beauty. Her large brown doe eyes might soon beg to have her face covered in cum. Fink felt his pants tighten. Then the buzzer went off, prompted by the long-nailed finger of the front-desk bimbo.

"I'll get Tits," Fink said, and left.

***

Tittiefuck waltzed into the reception area. She had outdone herself: her gold vinyl top and miniskirt were just a mere flimsy frame to draw attention to her swaying balloons and sashaying hips. She walked on seven-inch heeled golden sandals as if the hall was a Paris catwalk.

"Mmmmmmm," she moaned, finger-waving at the girls. "How cin I, wike, he'p ya, giwlsh?" Winnifred Burkle groaned. One more moron, she thought. What kind of place is this?

"We're looking for my friend Susan Murphy," she said. "I heard she works here." The black bimbo stretched her huge lips in a wide smile. Her teeth were a flash of white ivory.

"Lemmezhee!" she gushed and turned the monitor on the desk towards her. Gold fingernails tapped deftly on the keyboard. Then she begged the two girls closer and pushed "enter." A woosh of pink smoke hit their faces. Both Fred and Cordy froze, watching the screen. Tittiefuck giggled.

"Shee, honeysh? No Shu-shan Muw-phwee wowk 'e'e. Anyfing elshe I can, like, do ya fo'?" Both would-be investigators stared at her with a silly grin. Then they giggled. Tittiefuck took them by the shoulder and walked them back over the expanse of shining marble.

An hour later Cordelia Chase started blinking. She looked around her and had not the slightest idea how she had ended up on this bench in the small city park. Fred just groaned besides her, holding her head.

***

Cordelia leaned in against the metal back door. She twisted and turned the lock picks trying to open it. The dark night and limited streetlights provided a welcome cover.

"Are you sure we should do this on our own?" a very nervous Winnifred Burkle said. "I mean after what happened, maybe we should have brought Angel, 'cause he's much better at this stuff." She kept a watchful eye on the street.

"I think I can handle a missing person in a place run by stupid bimbos," Cordy whispered. "And besides Angel's dealing with more important stuff, like this slime demon and things. No reason to disturb him. He'd hardly appreciate it."

"Slime demon," Fred said with a disgusted tone.

"Yeah, nasty things. Do you know how long it takes to get them out of your clothes and hair? I really should start billing Angel for this kind of things." Cordelia continued picking the lock.

"But what if there is some kind of demon involved in here?" Fred kept worrying.

"If there were, I'd have felt it," Cordy said with a growing irritation in her voice. "Honey, chances are that the only sinister thing here is your pal Susan hooking up with some guy and forgetting all about having old friends." Cordelia knew well that there was more to all of this. Why else the amazing memory-loss? One moment they were seeing this monstrous bimbo, the next they had pigeons scurrying around their feet. But there was no use scaring her inexperienced companion more than she already was.

"Do you think?" Fred asked with a tiny voice.

"This is L. A., honey. It's been known to happen." Cordelia heard a click and the metal door opened. They stepped into a small, dimly lit hall. A second door led to a corridor that took them to two more. At last, they found the reception area, as huge as they remembered. The only light seemed to come from the neon sign at the wall. The ominous line gave off a soft glow.

"... on her knees," Fred guffawed. "Silly line." Walking past the reception, Cordelia found the entrance to the actual offices. Once more there was a wide hallway with many doors. The first one was unlocked. They passed through. Cordelia moved towards a filing cabinet and began to pull on it. It was locked. Finding a computer, she saw it was shut down. She decided to ignore it.

Fred was looking at the papers on the front desk. She shone her torch over them to see if she could find anything of use, but all she saw were a number of appointments and some pick-up and delivery orders.

"There's nothing here," said Cordelia.

"I saw an elevator at the end of the corridor," said Fred. "Maybe that will go somewhere." The two women moved on. They stepped into the elevator. The floor listing might help them decide where to go. 1. Offices. 2. Holding Areas. 3. First Stage Testing Zone. 4. Second Stage Testing Zone. 5. Third Stage Testing Zone/Management. 6. Final Project Holding/Testing Zone/Penthouse.

"Wonder what they test here," Fred said.

"So, which one do you want to go for?" asked Cordelia.

***

There were larger offices on the second floor. Posher ones too, surrounding smaller desks; a secretary pool, no doubt. In the dim light, everything seemed innocent enough. Cordelia already went to investigate one of the bigger offices. Then Fred saw the name on one of the desks. It was a very strange name and label. Initially Fred thought she misread, but after shining her light on it, she gasped in surprise. Her eyes went wide as she read out loud: "Su-Shi, Sexretary to Mr. Jones. Office Slut."

"This must be some sort of a joke, or it is a sexual harassment lawyer's dream come true," Cordelia sniffed. "Wouldn't surprise me one bit after what we saw this afternoon." Fred began going through this Su-Shi woman's desk.

"Oh my God!" she chuckled. With trembling hands, she showed Cordy a large dildo. She'd found it under a stack of porn DVD's. Cordelia's eyebrows rose.

"Guess her nametag wasn't lying. Hey, do you think you can get into her computer and see what really goes on at this company?"

"I'll try my best," Fred said. There was a nervous tone to her voice. She knew that what they were doing had to be illegal, but if this company was doing something remotely sinister, they had to be stopped. After all, she was now with Angel Investigations. It was her job to, well, investigate.

Some time passed. Fred managed to hack into this "office slut's" computer, finding many folders on her screen. The one that stood out the most was Slut Making Division. But before they delved into that, Cordelia wondered if there might be a picture of this Su-Shi in the computer. There was a folder. It read "Company Party." Fred clicked on it. The minute she saw the vacantly smiling face of a girl, she let out a small shriek. Staring back at her was a face she knew well. The girl was naked, and she was getting groped while sitting on some guy's lap. True, the girl's eyes were dopey. She also had gotten a slutty makeover. Her breasts were impossibly large. She also wore excessive makeup, and big blond hair, but Fred recognized the girl as her once roommate.

"Cordelia, this is she!" Fred murmured. "This is Susan! These people here have done something to her. They must be stopped!" Cordelia watched the screen.

"Yes, they must, Fred. First, though, we have to go through all her files, and check out what is going on in these holding cells. I bet a lot of money that there are other women here being held to turn into sluts like your friend." Fred looked at her strangely when she called her friend a slut. "Sorry, Fred," Cordelia said. She patted her arm.

They printed out some incriminating files. Then they stepped back onto the elevator and traveled to the next level.

"Cordy," Fred said. "Shouldn't we call Angel for, um, backup?"

"Fred, you're going to figure it out sooner or later. Angel is the champion against evil. We're going against some company that turns girls into bimbos and sluts, not against vampires or demons. I think that we can handle ourselves against the likes of these. Besides, if we haven't run into security, we won't. Don't worry, we'll be out of here sooner than you think. Then we can tell Angel all about this."

"If you say so," Fred said, only partly reassured. She looked down at the computer printout and remembered the face of her friend Susan. The girls exited the elevator.

They jumped when they saw what this company meant by holding cells. Before them were several cells with clear glass. They looked comfortable enough. There were girls inside, sleeping. Waiting? Ready to be transformed? Operated upon?

They were all naked. Some already seemed to have had their hair bleached. Others wore garish make-up. But they showed nothing that might be irreversible, like the mammoth tits they had seen before.

"Uh, Cordy, what should we do now?" Fred asked.

Bright floodlights sprang up. They nearly blinded Fred and Cordelia. Several hazy figures enclosed them. Their vision cleared slowly until they saw a man and several women. The man wore a guard's uniform, all the women wore black latex shorts, chokers and fake police hats. Their big breasts swung naked, of which the left on each girl was tattooed with a badge.

The bimbo cops strode forward and grabbed them. A huge chested blonde was obviously in command. "You'we, wike, unda awwest!" she said with an oddly sweet, lisping voice. The other girls giggled. The tall blonde seemed to think deeply. "You'we, wike, awweshted fo' twesh-twesh um being shumplache ya ain't sh'posed ta be and having insh-shufic... too shmall tiddies."

"Well done, bravo!" the male guard cheered. Cordelia's eyes widened.

"Kate!"

"Wike, ma name'sh Cunt Lushtly. BimboTech Shecuwity." Cordelia broke away. The bimbos all reached for their belts.

"Watch it Fred, they've got pepper spray."

"That's not pepper spray," the man assured. He just stood aside, chuckling amused. Clouds of pink engulfed Fred and Cordelia. Both tried to take another step, but they swayed on their feet. An amazed expression flushed their faces.

"I feel yummy," Fred tittered.

"That smells good. Like, where can I buy some?" Cordy moaned

"It's not for sale," the man told her. "But you'll feel like that all the time once you become a BimboTech girl. Isn't that something to look forward to, honey?" Cordelia just stared at him. Her eyelashes fluttered open and shut. Then she and Fred were led to the cells. They didn't resist a bit.