The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Steven, tomorrow is the show. You have got to get the appeal pushed through!” I said.

Steven sighed. I was hoping for a more positive response from our lawyer, but apparently that wasn’t to be.

“Look,” he said, “I’ve already pushed it, and it’s been denied. Judge Hanover works from a special charter. Nobody is going to interfere with that.”

“What the hell charter is that?”

“Well,” said Steven, “it’s the Special Laws Utilizing Tolerance Zero charter, to be specific.”

“The what?” I asked.

“The SLUTZ charter. It’s based on a treatise the judge wrote himself.”

“Oh, come on! What kind of methodology does he use?” I said.

Steven answered, “Daily Intervention and Tolerance Zero.”

I gave Steven a flat stare. “You’re telling me he uses the DITZ methodology?”

Steven nodded, his face set in a way that made it impossible for me to tell if he was kidding or not. Either way, I wasn’t amused.

We were gathered in Steven’s office for a final meeting. Steven was sitting behind his desk. I was sitting across from him, but as far away from Chrissie, Laura and Tonya as I could manage. And I was planning to keep it that way.

The four of us had worked together as a crime gang for several successful jobs. Chrissie was the leader, but I didn’t agree with the way she did a lot of things, and the tension between us had grown to the point where we couldn’t work together anymore. Our most recent job- a museum heist- was going to be our last job together. The artifacts we stole during the heist turned out to have unexpected properties that disrupted our lives in spectacular fashion, and we had to return the artifacts to the museum. Chrissie and Tonya betrayed me during the return, however, but messed it up so badly we all ended up getting caught.

That was how we ended up in the courtroom of Judge Hanover, a mysterious and powerful figure with unexplainable abilities. After hearing our case, he sentenced the four of us to appear on “Bimbomania!", a new game show where female prisoners competed against each other for a big money prize and freedom, with the losers allegedly ending up as bimbos. I assumed the bimbification effects were staged, but after encountering Judge Hanover, I wasn’t taking anything for granted. Besides, Blonde Concepts, a new corporation in Chrystal Heights with an unusual line of products, produced the show and who the hell knew what they were capable of.

“Don’t worry,” said Chrissie. “After we’re done with the show, I’ll take good care of your bimboed butt.”

I narrowed my eyes. “As if. I’ll be taking care of your bimboed butt, you mean.”

Steven cleared his throat. “Actually, that brings me to a point you need to know about. Regardless of who, um, wins, the four of you will have to remain living together for at least five years. The winner has to, um, support the losers for the five years as well. That includes Tonya’s baby, should the state give her back, and any other children that may, um, occur. This sentence the judge gave you will keep you out of jail, but you’re still under probation of sorts. In other words, the judge wants to make sure the winner is punished as well as the losers.”

There was grumbling at Steven’s announcement, but we knew complaining wasn’t going to change anything. Besides, if the game show was legit, three of us wouldn’t have enough I.Q. left to take care of ourselves afterward anyway, and those three would need a caretaker.

Steven stood up, indicating the meeting was at an end. “Good luck to you guys,” he said. We all shook hands and exited the office.

Just outside the office, Chrissie turned to me. “We just want you to know,” she said, “that the three of us are in agreement about one thing. Regardless of which one of us three win, the winner is going to make sure your ass is turning tricks. You’re going to be giving five-dollar blowjobs every night, and you’ll be the backroom entertainment at every party we throw. You’re going to be the biggest slut in Chrystal Heights.”

I rolled my eyes and walked away. Chrissie was so obsessed with taking me down that she had lost all perspective.

“Good evening, and welcome to Bimbomania!, the show that turns criminal young women into hot little sex toys! I’m Biff Brewster, your host and guide through the land of blonde debauchery. You want giggles and gasps? We aim to please! You want bouncing boobs and wiggling derrieres? We’re here to deliver! You want curvaceous cuties and blonde wet dreams? We’re all that and a bag of chips, too, because we know what you really want! You want...”

“Bimbos!” cried the audience in one voice.

“Bimbos!” cried Biff, pumping a fist into the air.

“Bimbos!” cried the audience once more.

Backstage, I rolled my eyes at Biff’s rhetoric. I couldn’t believe this was the top-rated show on television right now. Yes, Biff was charismatic and he knew how to play the audience, but come on!

A few feet away, I could see that Chrissie, Laura and Tonya were having the same thoughts. Black-haired Chrissie stood with her arms crossed, obviously disgusted with the production, and redheaded Laura and blonde Tonya mirrored her pose. They weren’t looking forward to this any more than I was.

On stage, Biff ran a hand over his perfect hair. “We have a special treat for our loyal viewers tonight. Our contestants today are none other than the Museum Heist Gone Wrong Gang! And judging from how well that venture turned out, it may be that they don’t need our help to become bimbos!”

The people in the audience laughed themselves silly as Biff described- with some exaggeration- our failed museum job. I wanted to strangle Biff and rip that perfect hair from his scalp. Grrrrrrrrr.

“Alright, then, let’s meet our bimbos-to-be!” said Biff. “Paul?”

At the mention of “Paul,” the lights dimmed and several hunky beefcake types dressed in tuxedos lined up outside the stage entry door, forming an honor guard of sorts. A single bright spotlight shone on the door. The unseen Paul’s deep baritone boomed throughout the studio.

“Thank you, Biff! Our first contestant is a five foot, four inch natural blonde who just gave birth to a healthy baby girl after a mere nine day pregnancy. Everybody give a warm welcome to twenty-two year old Tonya Stuart!”

On cue, a brief old-time burlesque short played as Tonya stepped through the stage door and walked between the tuxedoed hunks. The spotlight followed her until she stopped next to Biff amid heavy applause. As the applause began to die down, a few notes of Paul Anka’s “Having My Baby” sounded. Tonya blushed as the crowd laughed appreciatively.

“Our next contestant is a five foot, seven inch red-headed sophisticate who managed to get in touch with her inner child when she was arrested while wearing a diaper. Say hello to twenty-four year old Laura Sadler!”

Sleek, cool and collected, Laura strolled through the stage door to the sounds of Bruce Springsteen’s “Red-Headed Woman.” She made her way between the hunks and finally stopped next to Tonya. As the song faded away, the belled notes of “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” sounded briefly. Laura’s mouth tightened as the crowd laughed once again.

“Our third contestant is a five foot, six inch brunette who stood tough against her former gang mates when they turned on her, leaving her trapped on all fours with a dildo stuck deep in her rear end. A big welcome to twenty-two year old Erica Mullen!”

Oh, fuck. That was my cue, and I should have realized they’d make some reference to the embarrassing position I was in when the police arrived at the museum. Grrrrrrrr. I walked through the door- almost stomping- as the words to Heart’s “Barracuda” suddenly sounded. I made my way past the beefcakes, practically blinded by the spotlight, until I was standing next to Laura. Just as I settled in place, the song stopped, followed briefly by Jim Morrison singing, “Oh, I’m a backdoor man...” The crowd laughed again, although I certainly wasn’t amused.

“And finally, the five foot, nine inch black-haired leader of the gang who masterminded the botched break-in and arranged Erica’s betrayal. A warm welcome for twenty-three year old Christine Collinsworth!”

Chrissie walked through the door to the sounds of Santana’s “Witchy Woman.” There was a great deal of applause, but several boos could be heard as well. The song faded as Chrissie stepped in place next to me. Then the line “I’m a bitch” from the Meredith Brooks’ song sounded clearly. There were several snickers from the audience. Apparently many in the audience did not favor back-stabbers.

Biff turned on his thousand-watt smile as the house lights came back on. He looked at us as he spoke, although he was actually speaking for the audience’s benefit. “Alright, ladies, you know how this works. You four will compete in a series of events. The winner of each event is immune to that round’s consequences. Each loser will receive a letter from the word ‘BIMBO’. Each time you gain a letter, you will receive a pre-determined level of bimbification and then spin the accessory wheel. Once you receive all five letters of ‘BIMBO’, you are eliminated and must visit...” Biff cupped his ear.

“The Bimbo Throne!” screamed the audience.

Biff laughed. “That’s right! The Bimbo Throne, where your intelligence will be dimmed down and your sexiness ramped up until you are every man’s wet dream! Koomba!” Biff punctuated his exclamation with a pelvic thrust that would have looked ridiculous under normal circumstances, but in this setting achieved comic effect. Biff had the chops to pull off silly maneuvers like that. That’s why he made the big bucks.

Biff waited for the applause to fade, and at exactly the right moment said, “Alrighty, then, let’s get started! Our first event of the evening has been specifically selected based on the young women’s combative relationship with each other. Ladies, please change into your outfits and get ready for...the Catfight!” Biff took in the applause for a moment, then half-turned, giving the camera a profile of his best side as he said, “And we’ll be right back after these messages from Blonde Concepts.”

The camera light turned off and Biff deflated. The other girls and I quickly went backstage to change into our catfight outfits, which consisted of nothing more than simple bikinis. Chrissie was wearing a black bikini, Laura a red one, Tonya had gold and I was in emerald green.

We exited the changing area. A youngish Asian man with a state-of-the-art headset stood there, nodding. This was Michael, the backstage manager and all-around Man Friday, and he was obviously getting directions through his headset. He nodded, saying, “Yes, sir. Got it, sir.” He looked up and smiled as he saw us coming.

“Hey, you guys are great so far, alright? Great! The camera loves you! This is going to be the best episode ever! Anything you need, you just say so, alright? You’re doing great!”

Chrissie gave Steve a look. “Yeah, I got something for you to do. Can you kiss my ass?” she said.

Michael blinked, caught unaware by Chrissie’s unexpected retort, then laughed. “Oh, I’m sure you’re kidding, Christine. Funny! The camera loves you!”

Christine rolled her eyes, then filed back onstage with the rest of us.

“Three and two and...go!”

“And welcome back to Bimbomania! It’s time for the opening event...the Catfight! And what’s a catfight without women in bikinis?”

We were standing in a makeshift-wrestling ring, each in our own corner. The ring was slightly smaller than regulation and the ropes were bright neon pink, while the floor was neon green. Biff was standing in the center of the ring speaking into a hanging block microphone, much like an old-school MC for a wrestling match.

“Alright, ladies, the rules are simple. The idea is to be the last girl in the ring wearing anything. For that to happen, you must strip the bikinis off your opponents. However, we want a clean fight! That means no claws. You may not slap, scratch or kick your opponents in any way or you will automatically lose the event. However, any type of hold or bodily contact is allowed...and even encouraged. Rowr!” Biff waggled his eyebrows in a suggestive manner.

I looked across the ring at each of my opponents. Chrissie was directly across from me, and she would likely make a beeline for me. I’d have to strip her quickly, then move on to Laura. Laura was taller than Tonya and more likely to give me a problem.

Biff stepped back against the ropes, out of the way. “Alright, ladies,” he said, “Get ready...set...and...” He rang the ringside bell. “...go!”

I rushed straight for Chrissie, but stopped in the middle of the ring. I was the only one who had moved. Too late I realized that, rather than forming two separate matches, Chrissie, Laura and Tonya were all focused on me.

Oh-oh.

Moments later I was slammed breathlessly to the mat as all three of my former gang mates converged on me in a screaming, screeching, squealing cacophony. I grabbed the sides of my bikini bottom and held on for dear life, realizing there was no way I was going to strip all three of them at the same time. My top was untied and pulled off almost instantly, and just like that I was topless on national television. My cheeks burned at my topless state, but I was not going to give up my bikini bottom, no matter what they did.

“Hold her!” said Chrissie, struggling to roll me onto my back. I could feel hands all over me, grabbing, pulling, pushing. I was eventually rolled onto my back, with Laura holding me in a headlock from behind while Tonya was sprawled across my legs. I was still holding the sides of my bikini bottom in tightly balled fists, however, and their efforts to uncurl my fingers had failed. Unfortunately, the ringside camera had swung around and was focusing directly on my bare boobs. There wasn’t any way for me to cover up, so all I could do was clench my teeth and hold on for dear life.

With Laura holding me from behind and Tonya lying across my legs, Chrissie was free to do whatever she wanted. Chrissie leaned forward, making sure not to block the camera’s view of my bare boobs, and whispered in my ear, “Let go, sweetie. You’ll just make it harder if you fight.”

I wriggled defiantly. “Bite me, bitch,” I said.

Chrissie smirked. “Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? I know you want me. Your nipples are hard,” she said. Then she reached out and pinched my nipples into full hardness, making a show of it for the camera. “See?”

Omigod. She was humiliating me on national television. I was so going to kill the bitch the first chance I had.

I still hadn’t released the sides of my bikini bottom, however, so Chrissie finally said, “Alright, fuck this,” and she held up all ten fingers. “This will be fun,” she said. She then slid her fingers over my bare ribs and belly as she began to tickle me without mercy.

My eyes widened as I realized too late what she was doing. I wriggled and squealed helplessly but her fingers and nails found every sensitive spot without fail. I screeched so loud that Laura clapped a hand over my mouth and whispered, “Shhhh...just take it.” I wiggled and writhed and tried desperately to buck Tonya off my legs, but I couldn’t budge either of them. Finally, in helpless desperation, I let go of my bikini bottom and used my hands to slap Chrissie’s hands away. It was technically illegal, but it didn’t matter, because Tonya grabbed my bottom, sat up and slid my bikini bottom off my legs in a single movement, leaving me naked. I had officially lost the first event.

The other three girls laughed and high-fived each other as I was motioned out of the ring. I wasn’t allowed to get dressed after I left the ring, however. I had to stand between two of the tuxedoed beefcakes- whom I was beginning to realize also functioned as security and rule enforcers- and wait for the Catfight to end.

The crowd was certainly getting their money’s worth. After finishing with me, the three had scrambled to their feet and prepared to strip each other. They were close friends, but Chrissie and Laura had been friends longer, and they teamed up against Tonya. The little blonde was scrappy, but she was quickly stripped, and Tonya was soon standing next to me, just as naked and just as embarrassed.

That left Chrissie and Laura. Laura was kind of tall for a girl, but Chrissie was even taller, and Laura was more of a lover than a fighter, so the outcome was never really in doubt. The crowd cheered loud when Laura was fully stripped, however. The attractive redhead had evidently already gathered a fan base of sorts, and an early chance to see her naked had psyched up several members of the audience.

Chrissie strutted around the ring soaking in the applause while Laura, Tonya and I squirmed nakedly at ringside. There was a heightened sense of anticipation in the buzzing of the audience, and it wasn’t difficult to guess why. The first competition was over, and the first bimbifications were about to take place. We glanced at the giant electronic scoreboard, which now showed:

Biff stepped back into the ring, thousand-watt smile in place. “Congratulations, Christine! You are the first winner in this round of Bimbomania! You looked great out there! What were you thinking while you were battling on the mat?”

Chrissie thrust her hair out of her eyes. “Well, it wasn’t easy, Biff. It was really a war out there, but I knew I could do it if I just focused on what I had to do.”

Biff put his arms around Chrissie’s shoulders. “Well, congratulations, Christine. You’ve earned the right to watch your opponents go through the first level of Bimbomania Bimbification! Give it up for Christine, folks!” Thunderous applause filled the studio and a number of Chrissie fans began to chant her name.

Meanwhile, the tuxedoed hunks led Laura, Tonya and me back to the stage, which had shifted again. An ominous machine now dominated that side of the stage, resembling an old-time mainframe computer, but with sleek modern lines. Three bars protruded from the machine, each with what appeared to be rubber leggings suspended from them. We were each led to an individual station. Then we heard Biff speaking once again.

“Alright, Paul, tell the audience about the first level,” he said.

The unseen Paul’s baritone sounded once again throughout the studio. “Certainly, Biff. Every good bimbo should be centered, so the first level focuses on the center of the bimbos-to-be. Specifically, the hips, buttocks and waist. Our three naked young women will put on the rubber leggings that you see in each station. Inside each pair of leggings is a pair of dildos that will penetrate our lovelies in both orifices! Through these penetrating protrusions, the Bimbomania computer will reprogram the muscles, cells and DNA that make up those areas of our bimbos into shapes much more befitting of hot little sex toys! This is all possible thanks to those great folks at Blonde Concepts, who say, ‘The only good bimbo...is any bimbo!’”

Laura, Tonya and I looked at each other and shrugged. It all sounded more like hype than anything else. The producers using special effects for the people watching from home seemed more likely than a machine making major changes to our bodies. The rubber pants with the double dildos would certainly keep the ratings high while distracting from the likely lack of anything actually happening.

The hunky guy standing next to me indicated the rubber pants, and there didn’t really seem to be any way out of it. Besides, I was getting a little tired of standing around naked for the whole world to see. I reached over and pulled the rubber pants off their hanger. I slipped my bare feet into the leg holes and slid the pants up my legs, adjusting the dildos so they lined up with my openings. I really wished the cameras weren’t watching my every move, but there wasn’t anything I could do about that.

I wriggled and adjusted, and finally the rubber pants were in place. The waistband reached the smallest point of my waist, while the hem of the legs were halfway between my pelvis and my knees. The elastic rubber hugged my curves and molded itself around my hips and ass. The double penetration left me feeling a bit breathless, and I knew that if the cameras performed a close-up now, they would see that my cheeks were flushed. I shifted slightly, my bare feet jitterbugging slightly as the dildos shifted inside me. My movement was somewhat restricted by the wires running from the rubber pants to the mainframe computer.

A monitor screen at approximately eye level suddenly came to life. On the screen, I saw green lines against a black background, and I realized it was a grid reproduction of a female form. I shifted my hips and the grid outline on the screen performed the same movement, and suddenly it dawned on me that the grid form on the screen was me. Indeed, every move I made, the grid form made as well.

Numbers appeared on the screen as the grid form rotated, and it was clear the numbers represented measurements. The grid figure rotated again, looking very science-fictiony, and the numbers began to change. As they changed, the curves on the grid figure became visibly more enhanced. The hips widened slightly as the waist pinched in, and the buttocks swelled as well. This was all visible on the screen, and presumably to the television audience, but my actual body was unaffected.

I nodded to myself. My theory was right. It was simply special effects to entertain the masses.

Biff’s voice suddenly boomed. “Alright, our ladies are in position and the measurements have been downloaded. All that is left is to...” Biff paused dramatically, cupping his ear.

“Push the button!” cried the audience.

Biff whirled his hand dramatically and re-cupped his ear. “I can’t hear you!” he said.

“PUSH THE BUTTON!” screamed the audience.

“Are you saying I should push this big pink button right here?” asked Biff, as he stood at a console that had a huge bright pink button on its surface.

“PUSH THE BUTTON!” they screamed once more.

“Your wish,” said Biff, “is my command!” And with that, he flipped open the clear hinged cover and pressed the huge pink button.

I gasped as the rubber pants hugging my hips and ass began to thrum. It felt like a current of electricity was passing through the tight shorts, and I realized I was unable to bend my knees or even move my legs voluntarily. Then the dildos filling my pussy and ass began to pulse, and I could feel my pussy and ass gripping those dildos tighter and tighter. My nipples hardened and I could feel my hips bucking helplessly, then horrible sensations of pressure and helpless sensory manipulations. I felt breathless, though not painful; more uncomfortable than anything else, like pins and needles in a foot and not being able to do anything about it. This continued for two or three minutes, and then the current abruptly stopped.

I leaned against the side of the mainframe, catching my breath, and I could tell something was different in my midsection. The cameras were off now, and I realized a man in a white lab coat- a doctor, I presumed- was going from station to station, checking each of us. The doctor saw me looking at him and he made a hand motion indicating that I should remove my rubber pants.

I stood up and slid the rubber pants down my hips, gasping as the dildos popped out of my orifices. Then I finally realized what the change was. The machine had done exactly what Biff had claimed it would do.

My hips were wider and rounder, and my waist had shrunk ridiculously small. My ass had swelled as well. It sounded like trite changes, but the visible effect was anything but. The muscle and skin tone around my hips and ass was remarkable, obviously firm and embarrassingly shapely, but invitingly soft as well. Then my cheeks reddened as I realized that my pussy was completely smooth and hairless. I glanced at Laura and Tonya and saw they had been affected similarly as well.

I took a few tentative steps forward and my hips swayed as I did so. Apparently these hips would only allow this type of walk. The doctor stopped me and took my temperature and checked my vital stats. He made several notations on his clipboard, then listened to my heart. Finally he nodded and declared that I had suffered no hardships from the transformations. The audience cheered appreciatively.

The moment all three of us were medically cleared, music began to play and the cameras came to life once more. Biff stood at center stage, speaking to the cameras.

“Congratulations to Tonya, Laura and Erica! Perfect female form is often measured by one’s waist-to-hip ratio, you know, a measurement known as the WHR. Perfect beauty is usually considered to encompass a WHR between point seven two and point six eight. The lovely Angela Jolie has a WHR of point seven three, Jessica Alba a point seven zero, Vida Guerra a point six eight, Jennifer Lopez a point six seven and Raquel Welch a point six four. Although it was tempting to give you ladies a waist-to-hip ration of point five five, which is the WHR of the original Barbie doll, the brilliant scientists at Blonde Concepts have settled for giving you three a WHR of point six three, which is the reported ratio for Marilyn Monroe, one of the most famous bimbos in history!” Biff turned to the audience. “So, come on, bimbomaniacs, give it up for the girls as they sway their way to the accessory wheel!”

Shit. The accessory wheel. I had been so focused on my hips and waist that I had forgotten about the accessory wheel. Still, after getting my entire pelvis bimbified, how bad could an accessory be?

Tonya, Laura and I joined Biff on stage. Our swaying walks were tentative, as it was apparent the three of us were still getting used to our new embarrassing hips and waist. Biff led us to a large upright wheel. The face of the wheel was segmented, with various body parts represented. Biff turned back to the audience as he spoke to the camera.

“And here we are, ready for the first spin of the accessory wheel!” said Biff. “As you can see, the wheel is separated into several sections. This round is the piercing round, so each girl will spin the wheel to determine which part of their body will be pierced!” Biff paused as the audience burst into raucous applause. He waited for the cheering to fade before finally nodded to Tonya. “Tonya, if you would be so kind as to go first,” he said.

Tonya did not appear to want to be that kind, but the firm presence of the tuxedoed beefcakes just outside the camera angle suggested it wasn’t an option. Tonya stepped forward, still naked, and grabbed the wheel. She gave it a firm spin and then stepped back to see the result.

The wheel clacked rapidly for several seconds before it began to slow down. The sharp clicks became more and more spaced as wheel slowed. Finally, the wheel came to a complete stop. The audience began to buzz as Biff confirmed the result.

“Well, Tonya, it looks like you’ll be getting your tongue pierced! Paul, tell Tonya about her brand new accessory!”

Game show music began to play as the unseen baritone filled the studio once more. “Certainly, Biff! Tonya, you’ll be receiving a solid round stud embedded permanently in your tongue! Functional as well as decorative, your stud will be made with a special Blonde Concepts alloy called bimbanium that will enhance the sensations from your piercing and help provide pleasure for anyone who may be enjoying your mouth at any time. Congratulations, Tonya!”

The crowd began to cheer as Tonya was led away. It was obvious she wasn’t happy, but she knew it could have been worse. As soon as Tonya was gone, an apprehensive-looking Laura took her place.

Laura grasped the spokes of the wheel and heaved. The wheel spun freely for several seconds before beginning to slow down. The clicking slowed and finally stopped as the wheel finally settled into position. Laura’s cheeks colored as she saw the result.

Biff glanced at the wheel and became animated. “Well, an interesting result! Paul, tell Laura what she’s earned!”

The unseen Paul’s voice sounded instantly. “Certainly, Biff. Laura...you’ve earned a pierced clitoris! Yes, your most private hot button will soon be a permanent home to a bimbanium stud, allowing you extra sensation during your most intimate moments. It’s the piercing that keeps on giving. Congratulations, Laura.”

Laura’s cheeks were red as she was led away to be pierced, her bare hips swaying. Tonya had indeed been lucky. Now, however, it was my turn.

My heart was beating in my throat. Naked, I stepped up and grasped the spokes on the wheel. I took a deep breath and heaved, spinning the wheel as hard as I could. I stepped back as the wheel spun freely for several heartbeats. Finally, the clicks became more and more distinct as the wheel slowed and finally stopped. I rolled my eyes at the result.

Biff glanced at the wheel and confirmed the result. “Well, Erica, it looks like you’ll be sporting a pair of pierced nipples! Tell her about it, Paul!”

“Certainly, Biff! Erica, you’ll be experiencing permanently hard nipples as you’ve just earned permanent bimbanium nipple rings! Yes, you can display your bimbo breasts proudly once they’ve been decorated with these lightweight, yet alluringly decorative rings. Congratulations, Erica!”

Biff had stepped over and was standing next to me, his arm around my bare shoulders. When Paul finished, Biff smiled once more for the cameras. “While our girls are backstage getting themselves pierced, we’ll take a short break.” The camera went dark then and Biff took his arm from my shoulders. Almost instantly, two of the tuxedoed beefcakes stepped over to escort me backstage. I could feel the eyes of the audience on my bare ass as I walked.

I was mobbed as soon as I got backstage. I felt a brush sliding through my hair, and a bottle of cold water was pressed into my hand. As I took a deep swallow of the cold water, I could feel a damp towel wiping across my nipples. Michael was there, barking orders to stagehands and directing the tuxedos to various settings. Then he turned to me.

“You are great! The greatest thing ever! The audience loves you, sweetie! Screw Chrystal Heights Idol, this is the big time right here, baby! Hot hot hot!” he said. Finally he stopped, apparently to catch his breath.

I rolled my eyes, then took another swallow of water.

Michael looked over my shoulder at something I couldn’t see. Then, suddenly, he shrieked. “No! You fool! That goes in the middle of the maze, not the beginning! Focus! Focus!”

Two tuxedos took my arms then and Michael’s voice faded as the beefcakes led me to a room. Inside the room, Tonya was sitting in a chair, her bare back facing me, while a lab-coated technician peered inside her mouth. Laura was there as well, leaning back in a chair that resembled the type found in gynecologists’ offices. Laura’s bare feet were in stirrups, and another lab-coated technician was kneeling between Laura’s legs, apparently examining her clit. Television cameras were rolling, although they weren’t live feeds. Footage for filling in later dead time, most likely.

I sat down at a station. Almost immediately a technician sat in front of me. He made a notation on a clipboard, then suddenly ran impersonal fingers over my nipples. I gasped in surprise, but suddenly realized that I hadn’t felt his touch at all. I blinked, and the tech nodded.

“Yes,” he said. “The topical local has set.”

“That’s great,” I said. “What the hell did you just say, anyway?”

The tech laughed. “I said your nipples are completely numb, so you won’t feel the piercing at all. Not right now, anyway. You might be sore later.”

Belatedly, I realized that the stage crew must have rubbed the whatever the techie said on my nipples when I left the stage. I shrugged. Whatever.

My non-chalance ended five minutes later when I stumbled out of the room, eyes wide, with huge hoops permanently dangling from my nipples. I had barely felt the penetration, but I still felt chained and violated. My nipples were pierced! With huge hoops! Permanently!

My cheeks were burning. My heart was racing. My ass and hips were embarrassingly swelled and my nipples were permanently pierced. I was facing my ex-gang mates in a race against our dignity, and I was facing the ominous science of the ultimate bimbifiers...the scientists of Blonde Concepts.

One hour into the competition, one event...and I already realized that Blonde Concepts and the staff of Bimbomania had the technology and capability of bimbifying me. How could I possibly defeat Chrissie and the others when I was already beginning to feel like a silly bimbo?