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.