Wike, Totawwy Bimbo! Pt. 06

Wike, Totawwy Bimbo! Part Six.

A Quite Adventurous Field Trip.

Dawn Summers and Janice Penshaw stepped off the bus; so did the rest of their Psychology 101 group. They looked around; Dawn had never been to this part of L. A. She'd heard plenty of horror stories from Buffy and her dad about it.

"Why would they build a top research place in a dump like this?" asked Dawn. She looked at all the blackened, lapidated warehouses surrounding them.

"You know how people are about all these medical experiments," replied Janice. "Stem cell research and all that. I hear medical researchers are far more likely to get attacked outside work than anyone else." Dawn nodded, but she nevertheless watched the building with unease. Maybe it was all those stories she'd heard about downtown L. A. Or maybe it was her gut feeling from all the weird goings on she'd seen in Sunnydale. If something there didn't look right, it usually wasn't.

Dawn put aside her instinct as she followed Janice and the rest of the class into the building. A tall man in his forties and dressed in a smart designer suit greeted them. He spoke for a moment with their teacher, Mr. Taylor. Then he turned to the group.

"Alright, welcome," he said. "My name is Fink. I'm in charge of operations here at BT Incorporated. I shall be showing you around; I'll also introduce you firsthand to some of the projects we run here, just to show you a few of our ideas for a better future." He gestured towards the elevator. "Now if you'd just follow me."

Dawn took in the surroundings. It looked like a posh, but typical hospital waiting area. Lots of marble and expensive wood, but still rather clinical. She'd spent too much time in hospital with her mom's tumor and later death. It made her feel even more uncomfortable than she had in the street.

The class crossed the lobby towards the elevator. They heard excited voices from behind the reception desk. Dawn and Janice looked and saw two women giggling hysterically and pointing at the class.

"Wow, check out the boob-jobs on those," said Janice looking at the two girls. Dawn was a little freaked out by their grossly disproportionate bodies, but if her dad had taught her anything it was that men hire secretaries based on two things: boobs and how likely they are to sleep with you. Why would this Fink guy be any different? That's when she saw the neon silhouette of the kneeling woman behind the reception desk. She nudged Janice.

"Read that line!" Janice did and guffawed.

"What the fuck kinda place is this?" she shrieked.

Fink ushered everyone into the elevator. Then he turned to the reception desk and gave the two bimbos a menacing glare. He didn't want anyone to get any ideas about what really went on at BimboTech. At least not until he'd had a chance to remove the cell phones from the group. He couldn't have them texting or calling for help, could he? Happily, they were with a male teacher. There was little chance he'd cancel the tour due to some stuck up feminist's objections to all the glorified sex toys he kept in the building.

The class wasn't that big. They were only twenty-one including the teacher. Fink counted six guys and fifteen girls; about the ratio he had hoped for. He squeezed his way into the elevator and pushed the button for the fifth floor. The elevator was roomy; after all it had to pack in several huge titted bimbos. Nevertheless, it was a very tight squeeze with little room for movement.

"So, what are we going to see?" asked one of the girls.

"Hey, can we conduct some medical experiments on those two down in reception?" asked one guy dressed in the school football jacket.

"Here we are, level five," said Fink as the elevator stopped. "This is where we conduct extensive research into the human brain. We're hoping to use it to eliminate countless problems and make society a better place." The class stepped out of the elevator into a long white corridor. Doors stretched all the way down. Next to each was a large glass window.

"Now if you'll just follow me," announced Fink. He pointed down the corridor. They passed several men in lab coats. Dawn felt that they looked at her and Janice rather too long and with dirty smiles. Once again, she experienced a feeling of impending dread.

"This place gives me the creeps," said Dawn.

"Whoa, dude! Check those out," yelled one of the guys to some of his friends. Dawn and Janice looked through the glass window down into the lab below. They saw a few men in white working with a pink liquid. Several girls who could only be described as porn stars sat around on rather ominous looking chairs. They were swinging their long legs back and forth and twirled their hair.

"You know, I think I'm starting to agree with you," said Janice. "This place is weird."

"Hey," Dawn asked Fink. She pushed to the front of the group. "What's with all the stripper wannabees?"

"That's a rather ignorant and insulting stereotype, young lady," said Fink calmly. "I'll have you know every one of the girls employed here is a skilled professional in her specific area of expertise."

"You mean they actually work here?" Dawn said sarcastically. She didn't feel comforted by Fink's response. In fact, his hiring policy made her feel creeped out. As were other things she saw.

The class stopped to look into one of the labs. Another couple of men were circling around one of those suspicious chairs. In it sat a woman, wearing a rather strange looking device on her head.

"Victoria down there was a high driven career type," said Fink. "The stress of her job caused her all kinds of problems. We intend to help her overcome them. It'll make her a far happier person." Fink certainly had to think on his feet today. True, Victoria, soon to be Vikki, was a bitchy career woman, but she was here rather at the request of her husband. He was getting fed up with not having sex, his wife always being in the office. Or who knows where else she might be, working late.

"How does it work?" someone asked.

"It is mainly a combination of relaxation and therapeutic techniques. The helmet's visor creates optical stimuli to lower a person's resistance. Harmonic frequencies are generated by the helmet itself. They target and alleviate the areas of the brain that cause the problems."

"So, it is some kind of brainwashing?" Dawn asked.

"A crude description," Fink said, once again balancing between lying and almost telling the truth. "Psychiatrists use various forms of hypnosis, it is a well-accepted procedure. Even electromagnetic fields are commonly used to aid in rehabilitation. That way you can cure addiction and alleviate stress. What we have done is taken a combination of these techniques, augmented with new hi-tech inventions. Thus, we developed a means of helping people solve their mental problems without the need of drugs. We reduce the number of addicts in society."

Fink's little propaganda speech seemed to have them convinced. They continued down the corridor towards one of the doors at the far end. Fink pushed it open. The room was brightly lit, the walls were purely white, made out of a plastic-like material.

"If you'd all just step inside, we can continue with the tour," he said. With a sense of relieve he saw them get into the room. The most dangerous part of the visit lay behind him as the last of the class stepped inside. Fink shut the door. He pulled a pair of dark sunglasses out of his top pocket, putting them over his eyes. His hand reached for a button on the nearest wall. The group looked at him, no doubt wondering about the glasses.

Right then Dawn knew that her suspicions had been right all along. She stepped forward, but it was too late. Fink pushed down on the button and a bright flash filled the room. He pushed it a second, then a third time. He had to make sure he had got everyone. As the glare from the final flash faded, Fink removed his glasses. He looked at the class; they all stood motionless, their eyes wide and their faces blank. They seemed to be awaiting whatever he was about to impart on them. Fink turned and opened the door. Becker stood outside, with Tittiefuck and Poontang.

"Is it done?" asked Becker. He stepped inside.

"See for yourself," replied Fink. Becker stepped up to Dawn. She was staring blankly into space, her mouth still open in protest. He snapped his fingers in front of her face several times and got nothing.

"All right ladies," Fink said to the fifteen frozen girls. He clapped his hands; the girls relaxed their bodies, but their eyes kept staring. "You follow my sweet assistant here. She'll take you to learn firsthand what we're all about, and eventually what you'll be all about." He snickered and made way for the girls to leave, moving like zombies. Then he addressed the guys.

"You, fine gentlemen, please follow lovely Poontang upstairs. She and quite a few of our delicious girls will show you the special benefits of the work we do here." The class broke up, each appointed group following one of the bimbos in a daze. Fink however laid a hand on Dawn's shoulder.

"As for you, Miss Summers," he said. "You are a V. I. P. Please accompany me." The white room soon was empty. Dawn walked like an automaton between Fink and Becker; they went into a different direction from the split-up fieldtrip.

"We'll have to work fast here," said Fink. He steered the sleep-walking girl by holding her waist. "We'll augment some striking details of her physical features," he went on. "We'll also implant some very basic commands into her head. They will make her act just a bit sluttier, but the main effect will be an overwhelming desire to return here. She'll crave to become a full-fledged bimbo and moreover: to share it with her famous sister."

"I'll see it when it happens," grunted Becker. Fink ignored his sarcasm and went on.

"The rest of them will have their conscious mind implanted with false memories of the field trip. They'll be reprogrammed. The girls will gradually grow sluttier in public. Privately they'll already be the sluts they want to be publicly. It will encourage them to return here." They came to another elevator. Fink punched a button, the doors slid closed. "As for the guys," he said. "The guys will be stimulated to see their female counterparts for what they are -- fucktoys. It follows as a matter of course that they will use them as such once they get home."

***

Fink, Becker and their sleeping beauty reached Conditioning Room Five. It was filled with scientists, physicians and salon bimbos. A happy giggle came over them as the zombie-like Dawn Summers walked in. She stood motionless between the two men.

"Gentlemen, and bimbos. May I present The Bait?" Fink announced. He pulled the girl close to him and waited for the applause to die down. "This is Dawn Summers," he said. "She is the sister of the mighty slayer. Now, you've all received your directions; I expect them to be followed to the exact detail. I don't need to remind you of the recent shameful blunderings with the former Miss Chase?" There was a low murmur among the scientists and physicians. The salon bimbos giggled idiotically, pouting critically as they eyed Dawn's slender body and smallish tits.

"Myself and Mr. Becker will supervise the whole process. So, there won't be any unauthorized decisions. These changes have to be very precise," Fink said. He made sure everyone was paying attention. "Now, sluts, start on her hair." The salon bimbos minced over to Dawn. They took the young Summers woman and sat her down. They quickly applied the dye to her long, straight brown hair. At one point, one of the bimbos felt up Dawn's breast. Fink coughed and she stopped.

"There will be plenty of time for that later," he said.

The dye was setting in, as they moved the girl to a more dentist-like chair. Fink allowed his scientists to attach the same strange looking device over Dawn's head that the girl had been so suspicious about before. One of the men turned the device on. Dawn's eyes snapped open. Soft, relaxing music began to play. Fink knew what she saw. Whirling pink patterns were right now doing their hypnotic little dance before her eyes.

Her brain was bombarded with subliminal messages. They directed her in her task as the bait. They also brought out slutty tendencies. Those didn't have to be created, they were there all along, as in any healthy woman. She never knew she'd always had these shocking thoughts of fucking and sucking, but from now they would feel natural and dominate her mind. As a result, her whole taste in dress styling would change. Dawn would only wear pinks and other bright colors. She'd only wear what showed off her body in an outrageously sexy way.

Fink and Becker watched on. They soon saw a contented smile wash over the girl's face. She wasn't to lose any of her intelligence, but her critical capacities would be numbed. She would see nothing wrong with what had happened to her. On the contrary, she would be happy and thankful. She also would be totally and completely loyal to BimboTech.

Fink watched Dawn's eyes flicker back and forth. They never blinked. He nodded to one of the beauticians. A blonde bimbo came forward with a syringe in her hand. The needle was pushed into Dawn's lips, a dose of collagen flowing into them. The girl never even flinched. Fink smiled. In his plan to lure Buffy Summers, he wanted her little sister to have big, swollen, blowjob lips. He was sure they would appall her, and besides, he loved to anticipate. Soon they would beg to swallow his cock.

Finally, Fink went over to one of the physicians. He knew how things were progressing. He just wanted affirmation.

"All of her base conditioning has taken shape, sir." the man said. "The next step is for her to recognize you as her lord and master. Once she returns with big sister, we can install more conditioning into her." The man looked Dawn over. "I imagine you plan her to be your Lolita masterpiece, sir?"

"Yesss," Fink said. He rubbed his hands together. Despite the constant Wolfram and Hart supervision, things were turning out well for himself. For now, Dawn would be a platinum blonde slutty beauty. But he already dreamt of more changes to follow. "Be back soon, little slut," he murmured under his breath. His cock tightened.

Hot Teacher, Attentive Class.

Tittiefuck stood by as the new sweet bimbo BounciBounce came on the tongue of her lover TrippiliKlit. She felt her own poor, conditioned cunt ache with envy, wringing her red nailed hands and biting her swollen lips, but she couldn't join, she had a duty. What was it again? She giggled nervously, making her mammoth tits shiver inside their tight lycra top. Mashta wanned her to do somefin'... ah yes... somefin' with the new slut Twippiwi. If she would eh, wike, fink a bit... she might 'memba.

Then, when Trippili and Bounci both exploded once again in a duet of loud and passionate screams, she knew again. She bent forward on straight legs, her shiningly wrapped ass sticking up high. She pulled the limp, spent Trippi off her lover... pushing Cunt Lustly aside with a heeled foot.

"C'mon, honey," she said cheerfully. "Now, wike, cum wif Tiddiefuck. We gonna have sho mush kewl fun, li'w bimbo dahwin'. C'mon now quickwy! Mashta totawwy nee's us, baby." She pulled Trippili to her wobbly feet and pushed her to the door, all the time whispering in her ear. Behind her Bounci slid off the sofa, falling on top of the platinum-haired ex-cop. Her new fat lips drooled all over the giggling Cunt Lustly. The woman was almost strangled by her tits.

"Bounchi happy," she mumbled. "Shooooo totawwy happy... mmmmmm." Her frame shook with a bout of giggling. Then her lights went out.

***

The two bimbos were a sight as they walked down the corridor, the black woman with the lycra packed melons and bubbly ass held on tightly to the pale brunette. The dazed white girl swayed on her towering ballerina boots, that sent shivers through her mostly exposed, spectacular body at every step she took. The vinyl black number was hiked up still, showing off her shining, bald pussy. She didn't seem to care, walking wide-eyed and never responding to the intense whispering of her companion. She just nodded and widened the inane smile on her cheap whore's face. Her fingers kept fondling the huge creamy tit she had peeled out of her dress. Even in here, where half naked bimbos roamed the floors in flocks, she turned heads and got admiring whistles.

At last, they reached a sky-blue door that led into an enormous dressing room. Racks of clothing covered all walls, dazzling the eye with a rainbow of colors, shining luster and sparkling sequins. Trippili stood as if nailed to the floor. Her hands covered her mouth in disbelief. She squealed and clapped her hands. A slow trickle of urine ran down her thigh.

"Oooooooh... oooooooh Gawd, oh Gawd!" she screamed. "Wook, oh, wookiiii! Aww dose totawwy wannefuw fingies. Oooooh, wike, myyyy Gawd!!" She started to jump up and down as far as her boots allowed, still screaming in a high-pitched voice. It ended in whining sobs. Her slender hands with their long red nails touched the satin and silks. She fondled the shining latex and leather, vinyl and lace. She buried her face into tops and skirts and dresses, into baby-dolls and thongs and slithering negligees. Her body started to shudder, and she came with a devastating intensity. Then she sank slowly to her knees.

***

Tittiefuck carefully peeled the vinyl off the girl's limp body. Then she unlaced the high boots and pulled them off her perfect legs. Mercifully she replaced them with a pair of six-inch platform-mules before putting her in front of a tall mirror. Trippi's eyes widened. Who was this gorgeous, naked brunette with the totally amazing body? Look at those tits, that incredible waist and creamy, spotless skin. Oh my, check the endless legs and the flaring hips.

"Mmmmm... ya wook sho gweat, Twippi... shoooo totawwy yummie," Tittiefuck crooned. She tweaked the girl's nipples from behind. "Yo'e, wike, sush an aweshome pown shta'! All men jewk off fo' ya." They both giggled, creating tiny earthquakes of pink and chocolate flesh.

"Go 'way!" Trippi cried and moved her hand as if to throw away her thoughts. "Ish da' me? Is da' Twippiiii? Oh, my Gawd, weeeeawwy? Twippi a, wike, pown sta'??" Again, they giggled and hugged.

"Now, lisshen, shweet fing," Tittiefuck lisped. "I washn't kiddin' ya when I, wike, call ya a pown shta'. Ya weawwy are, Mashta shay sho. An' yo de bestest, sweetie, the vewy, vewy bestest!" Trippili just stared. Her hands moved slowly over her body and her dreamy eyes followed them in the mirror. Tittiefuck hugged her from behind and said: "We hafte get ya weady fo' yo' p'fommance now, shweetie. Mashta want ya to go, wike, be a hawt pown shta' teacha to show giwls how to be vewy, vewy shlutty, naughty bimbo giwls." Trippili giggled incredulously.

"Twippi ish bimbo... bimbo pown shta'? Wif camewa's an' stuff? Ooooh goodie!!" She clapped her hands. "Wha' do I, wike, wea', teww me, shweet Tiddie. Wha' I wea'?" Tittiefuck pushed the girl closer to the mirror. Then she produced an almost sheer white blouse and draped it over her shoulders. Never bothering to close a button, she just tied the loose flaps of the blouse right under the enormous tits. It made them stand even higher, forming a cavernous cleavage. Only hard tugging could close the blouse far enough to cover the extended nipples. Then she made Trippili step into a very short, pink tartan pleated skirt. It hung low on the girl's generous hips. The hem just about covered the fact that she followed the Scottish rule of not wearing anything under it. A pair of huge pink fake spectacles and a supple pointing stick completed the outfit.

"Tataaa!" Tittiefuck squealed as she waved at the finished girl in the mirror. "Twippi ish shooooo hawt! Mmmmm... she's, wike, one hawt teashaaa!" They both hugged and were once more reduced to giggle-jiggling jello puddings.

***

TrippiliKlit followed Tittiefuck along the corridor. They stopped outside a door about halfway down and pushed it open. The room was set up like a lecture theatre with rows of chairs in a half circle around a stage.

"Dish ish, wike, whe'e all de Doctash an' Mashtas go watch fingies abou' all de totawwy hawt stuff dat goes on at BimboTech," Tittiefuck said. Trippili looked around. She saw girls sitting in chairs. She counted one, two, many. They stared vacantly to the front of the room, each with a metal band around her head. A series of wires ran from them to a strange looking machine. Two doctors stood in front of it.

"Uhm, wha's, wike, dat fingie awound dey headsh?" Trippili asked.

"Oh, da' fingie, wike, he'ps 'em leawn stuff fashta. Cawse bimbo's ain't da' good at fings wike da'." Trippili smiled and nodded approvingly.

"Actually, it will allow us to upload the already constructed memories of the class field trip into their heads just in case anyone back in Sunnydale asks about it. It also will allow us to implant your lesson into their sub-consciousness to emerge gradually into their conscious minds so that no one gets suspicious about what went on here," said one of the two doctors. He adjusted a button on the device.

"Huh." Both bimbos hadn't understood a word the doctor just said. Which of course is what he intended.

"Never mind," the other white-coat grinned. "It's nothing your simple minds need to know." Trippili smiled again. Then she teetered down to the front of the class and up the little stage.

"Hiya, shweeties," she said. "Sho, I gonna, like, teash y'all what is wike to be a totawwy hawt shlutty shlut wike me. Y'all weady?" The girls just sat staring aimlessly.

"You stupid bimbo," one of doctors yelled. "They can't respond to you in this state. Just start teaching them."

"Sho... um... wike, whe'e I shtart?" Trippili hesitated. "Weww, I wash kinda wike ya onche," she tried. "Now I'm, wike, a totawwy hawt shlut. So, ya godda lea'n a be mo' wike me. Lesh shtart wif de way y'all dwessh. Ya won' eva get fucked dwessed wike ya' now. O' get a weawwy hawt shlut job wike a totawwy hawt pown shta' or a shexhy shlutty shtwippa." The metal bands lighted up with various colors. It distracted Trippili for a moment; then she bravely plodded on. "Ya godda shta't weawing totawwy hawt shoes an' shtuff." It seemed the thing to say. The screen behind her came to life, showing an array of sexy high-heeled shoes and boots. Trippili let out an enthusiastic squeal.

"Heews a', wike, sho shexhy! Ya mussh' totawwy weaw 'em wike aaaa'waysh, an' de higha de bedda. Ya walk all shexhy an' wiggle yo' asshesh mo'a. But what type ya shooshe gotta be totawwy wight fo' yo' outfit an' job an' how hawt yo' legsh a'e." She picked up her stick and pointed to a pair of strappy stilettos. "Dese a', wike, beshtesht fo' weawwy hawt legsh to show 'em off. Jush' 'memba to, wike, make yo' feet all shexhy too, wif nail polish an' shtuff. Cawshe ya can, wike, shee 'em shwough 'em." She then pointed to a pair of pumps.

"Dese a', wike, bestest fo' the of-fiche type bimbo. Mosht o' de giwls he'e wea' deshe, cawshe it wooksh weawwy uhm of-fiche..., wike, weawwy good wif of-fice stuff! Bootsh cova up yo' legsh sho wea' 'em if yo' legsh ain' sat hawt or iffen it'sh gonna be cawld. Cawshe dey keep ya wa'm an' shexhy." The next screen flashed up showing stockings.

"Oooh, deshe a'e, wike, weawwy shexhy." She pointed to a pair of sheer stockings. "Dese a'e, wike, de bestest fo' classhy typesh o' bimbosh. An' fishnetsh are beshtesht fo' de swutty type who wanna be hoesh an' shtuff. Ya can weaw 'em aww de time too, dey don' get in de way of fuckin' an' shtuff, an' ya can, wike, add shush... pendash and gawta bewtsh an' make 'em hawtah. Jus' 'memba: dese an' bootsh are all ya weaw o'er yo' shexhy legsh. An' iffen ya wanna let people know yo' a shwut make shua' yo' skiwt don' weach de top of 'em." The next screen flashed up showing skirts, hot pants and daisy dukes as well as various thongs and g-strings."

"Good li'w bimbosh don' like pantiesh, but shometimes ya gotta wea' 'em cawshe people shay sho or cawshe ya gotta get out of 'em like a shtwippa. Sho, iffen ya do, dese are, wike, de onliesht, cawshe dey don' hide yo' shexhy asshesh. Long shkiwtsh totawwy shuck. Dem be only eva shix inchesh or lessh an' show yo' assh when ya ben' ova. Sho, guysh know yo' weady fo' fuckin'." Trippili spun on her heels and bent over. Her tiny pleated kilt rode up, exposing her bare ass. She reached round and grabbed it with her hands. Then she began fondling and wiggling it.

"Good bimbosh a'waysh wiggle dem asshesh to show how shexhy dey a'e." She stood back up. "Dey be weawwy shexhy in hawt pantsh an' tight showt fingies. But twoushas shuck, cawse dey cova way too mush. Dey're guysh shtuff anywaysh. Topsh mush' look hawt too. Dey be, wike, weawwy, weawwy tight an' show off yo' tiddiesh. Tight topsh a'e totawwy imp... impotan'. Dey make ya hawt." Trippili looked at her audience realizing they all had small breasts. "O'couwshe none of ya got tiddies yet. Mebbe shomeday de nice shien... shien... doctash at BimboTech go give ya shome. Dem, like, de beshtesht." She pushed her own pair out proudly. "Ya play wif 'em an' jiggle 'em, shake 'em, show 'em off an' fuck wif 'em."

TrippiliKlit then went on to explain the various types of accessories they could use to slut themselves up further, such as earrings, tongue studs, nipple and belly button rings, and collars. As she explained everything the images would flash up on the screen. The headsets wired to each girl would download the appropriate information into their minds.

"Sho, now I godda, wike, show ya what it wewwly meansh a be a bimbo shlut," she said. Putting down her pointing stick, she picked up a huge dildo. "Ish all abou' cawcksh an' pusshiesh an' fuckin'. Sho, wike, who been fuckin' a cawck b'foah?" A couple of the girls put their hands up aimlessly "Sho ya kno' how totawwy hawt it ish. Good. Now, wike, none of ya have boobies. I guess I hafta show ya mashe'f how to tiddiefuck." Trippili untied the blouse top and freed her enormous tits with a sigh of relief. Then she stuck the dildo between them.

"Sho, when de cawck is 'tween yo' tiddiesh ya godda shtart wubbin' dem togeffer. Feelsh shoooo good playin' wif 'em an' wubbin' a cawck b'tween 'em. Ya jush' luv it, if ya eva get titsh. An' if ya wanna, ya can shuck on it too, so all dat yummy cum not shpilled." Trippi lowered her head and began to suck on the tip of the plastic cock. She fantasized about having a real one between her tits; just the thought already made her getting wet. She looked up, never stopping what she was doing. The mindless zombies got it all uploaded into their brains.

Trippili felt sorry that none of them could enjoy this particular experience for themselves. She fucked her tits for a while, her eyes rolling back in her head from sheer arousal. She never looked at all the mindless drones before her, just getting lost in the delicious movement between her sensitized mounds. A shout from one of the two doctors had to snap her back to reality. Trippi looked up, panting. Through a steamy haze she saw the vacant faces of the girls under their silly headwear. The slick friction of the dildo had spread a glow all through her body.

"Ya shee, shweetiesh?" she croaked. "Da'sh, wike, how it done onche y'all have boobiesh too!" She giggled. "Feelsh shoooooo totawwy yummy!" The girls never reacted but red and blue lights raced around the metal headbands. Their empty eyes seemed to vibrate inside their sockets. The white-coated scientists registered and monitored everything that happened, but the bulges in their pants were a sure signal that their dedication wasn't purely scientific. One of them tore himself away from his daydream long enough to push a button.

"Enough!" he decided. "Time to let the info penetrate and impregnate these sluts forever!"

Tittiefuck wobbled into the room. She carried a large pink plastic basket under her swaying jugs and started distributing jelly dildos to the girls. They were in sweet candy colors and looked brutally gigantic in their hands. Then Tittiefuck whispered something in Trippi's ear. The girl jumped up and screamed with delight.

"Oh! Yesh, yeah... wonnafuw! We aww, wike, get to fuck ou'shewvesh, giwlsh! Fuck, fucky-fuck!!" With that she sank to the floor of the stage and raised both legs into the air, spreading them wide. "Spwead yo' pwetty legsh, shweetiesh, jush' wike me." The captive girls spread their legs in their chairs. "Now put de de-wicioush dildo in yo' mouf an' shuck on it." Trippi ran her elongated tongue along the black pole. "Lick it, giwlsh. Make it, wike, aww niche an' wet. Mmmmm, dwippin'!" They all ran pink tongues around the plastic.

"Now put yo' panniesh to de shide an', wike, push yo' wuv'wy wet dildosh into yo' wet tight pusshiesh!" Trippili pushed the huge cock she'd used to fuck her tits with before, deep into her soaking wet slit. It sank in easily; her new elastic muscles gripped it and started rippling up and down its shaft. She moaned.

"Deepa, giwlsh! Don' be shy! Ya shee, it feelsh, wike, sho totawwy gweat. Oh yesh, gweat!" She started slowly fucking herself in plain view of the empty faced girls. Their headsets shone like police lights. Their small hands drove the jelly plastic poles deep into their pussies. Two of the girls winced when the dildo took their virginity.

Trippili increased the speed. Her high-pitched bimbo voice encouraged the girls to follow her and join her in her passionate fucking. They did so with almost robotic precision, and when their huge titted teacher came, they dutifully came with her. Their eyes rolled back into their heads; their headsets steamed. All they learned that afternoon was etched forever in their altered brains. Their bodies arched and shook; they gasped away their future forever.

Dancing for a Captive Audience.

BounciBounce giggled happily, looking at herself in the mirror. Poontang and Muffy had helped her find a nice outfit to surprise the six guys from Sunnydale. It was a tiny pair of daisy duke cut offs, practically swallowed up between the cheeks of her enhanced ass. Her huge tits were covered by a flimsy plaid shirt tied off below them; the top of a black bra was just visible. She wore it to push her cleavage up to even more impressive levels, but mostly to give the boys something extra to take off. On her feet were a pair of high-heeled red go-go boots. Her western look was completed with a white cowboy hat. She sashayed away after the other two bimbos.

The room they went to was on the building's sixth floor. It had several poles on a large stage. There also were a giant jukebox, a bar and a big screen TV. Seated around the room were the guys from Dawn's Psychology 101 group; each had several wires extending from devices attached to their heads, leading to a computer system on a cart, where a doctor monitored it. They also drank beer from bottles or stronger beverages.

Bounci watched the funny looking setup. She couldn't figure out what was going on, so she just giggled; by now she knew she could never go wrong with a good giggle. Then she teetered past the guys, wiggling her ass seductively and waving her fingers.

"Hiya guysh," she yelled. She got no response at all. She smiled. Then she jiggled over to Cunt Lustly. "Whatcha, wike, doin'?" she asked.

"We godda, wike, keep deshe guysh happy. We show 'em how a good shlut behavesh. Sho, dey kno' how to be awound dose giwlsh Twippiwi is teashing wight now." Bounci sighed dreamily at the mention of her lover's name; it made her drifting off. She was not paying attention as a doctor began to explain what it was he wanted the girls to do. Not that she would understand much of what he was saying. Not anymore anyway. She was brought back to the now by Cunt tapping her shoulder.

"Hey, ya godda, wike, danche an' shtuff an' keep 'em happy, giwl." A new excitement flushed Bounci. She clapped her hands and squealed. The thought of finally using her dancing skills aroused every cell in her new body. She knew she was gweat at it, of cawshe. She always had been.

"Yessshh!" she screamed. Then: "How?"

"Ya jush' pick out a shong on dat fingy ova deah," explained Cunt Lustly. "Is a big shingin' box, ya know. Den ya jush' danche, honey. Ya totawwy be a natuwal at it." So Bounci bounced over to the jukebox shaking her ass about. She peered into the machine, her lovely arching eyebrows frowning in thought. Then she aimlessly poked her long-nailed fingers at the various buttons. Nothing happened. She giggled. Seeing her distress, Cunt went over. She grabbed the girl's round bubble butt and squeezed it, making Bounci jump with delight. Then Cunt pressed several buttons on the machine, making it produce loud, belly-aching rhythms.

Bounci began to wiggle her ass to the music. It touched places inside her, making her move in all the right ways. She strutted slowly and seductively to one of the poles at the center of the room. Oh, my Gawd! All the cute guys watched her. And the giwls! Oh Gawd, it was toooo exciting. She grabbed the pole with one hand. It felt cool and welcome; it felt like home. She pulled herself in close, trapping the slick metal between her tits, then wrapped her leg around it and circled. She kicked her feet off the ground and spun around several times. Her new body made it all so effortless.

She pushed the crotch of her daisy dukes against the pole as hard as she could. Then she began to buck her hips back and forth, simulating passionate sex. Noticing the fat bulges in her audience's pants made her feel proud, so, with new vigor BounciBounce pulled herself back onto her feet. She began to gyrate her hips. Everyone should enjoy the sight of her ass, her bare belly, her shining legs.

She watched sweet Cunt Lustly get down on all fours. Ah, the blonde was so yummy, holding her ass high in the air, wiggling to the music. Then she began giving one of the boys a blowjob. All down the line the other bimbos started tending to their young guests. Some were giving lap dances to make the guys' cocks even harder. Others sucked them off or even fucked them cowgirl style. A wave of happiness flooded BounciBounce, wetness damped the crotch of her tiny cut-offs. Fucking the cool, slick pole made her pant; she humped her way up against it. Then her hands slipped down her back onto her ass. She began to fondle it and wiggle it about. Arching her back, she slapped her denim-clad ass hard, making it jiggle.

The room was a riot of fucking and cock-sucking now. Bounci leaned forward with a smile. My Gawd, was she alive! She bent forward and pushed her ass against the pole. It gave her audience a full view of her impressive cleavage. She churned her crack into the metal, her hands making slow circles on her flat stomach. Then she undid the knot that tied her shirt. With a flourish she exposed her glorious orbs. Her black bra pushed them up, the lace looking as if tattooed on her pale, shining flesh.

Bounci knew what the boys wanted. And her fellow bimbo girls. She shook her tits and moved her hands up to fondle them. She felt the raging nipples push into her palms. Once again, she slid her fingers down her hot body into the waistband of her cut-offs. She moved them down her long smooth legs and kicked them off into the face of one of the bimbos. Then Bounci reached her hands up over her head, grabbing the pole. It made her tits rise even higher, almost slipping out of their nylon cage. She felt how the cool metal of the pole got trapped between her hot ass cheeks, pushing the thread of her g-string deeper into her crack. She closed her eyes and shuddered with delight Her hands went to the clasp of her bra. She unhooked it and let her wondrous melons burst into freedom for all to see. The bimbos clapped and giggled; their male companions just gasped; they had the stimuli fed directly into their heads by the machines they were wired up to.

Bounci strutted towards one of the guys. She was naked now, her tits jutting out in full majesty. Her hips moved and danced to the booming rhythm of the music. The sheer attention made her cunt leak, the juices sparkling on her inner thighs. The bimbo who had been riding the closest guy moved away. BounciBounce laid her hands on his shoulders, catching his eyes. She smiled and began to churn her hips in front of him. Then she closed in, shaking her tits to the music, yelling and whooping. Her flaming hair whipped his face. Spinning around on her platform heels, she bent forward and thrust her padded ass into his crotch. His wet, hard shaft rubbed her flesh, but it wasn't that which made her arousal soar. It was the eyes of her sweet sister bimbos.

Bounci felt the guy shoot his load into her crack. It made her shiver. Turning around, she kissed him deeply. Then she moved on to the next guy, leaning in to dangle her huge, hard nipples within inches of his face. Then she side stepped to the next boy and seated herself into his lap. She sat on all the six hard cocks. Flushed faces welcomed her, it was all so sweet and arousing. The music vibrated all through her body. She felt as if she'd burst. So, she grabbed one of the bimbos and dragged her onto the stage, where they humped each other in a steaming 69 until they came. Twenty-four wide-open male eyes took it all in, eleven zombie students and their teacher. Rock-hard flesh throbbed; balls churned out load after load. Silent machines added their data.