At least for a moment. Something was wrong. It sounded like Marissa was groaning. Was she sick?
"Marissa?" she called out as she struggled frantically with to unlock the door. "Marissa, what's wrong?"
Marissa made an even louder groan but it sounded muffled somehow. Catherine didn't know what to think. She just knew she had to get the door open.
And then the door was open and Catherine wished it wasn't. She was too shocked to close it, though. There was her best friend wearing nothing but a pair of pink socks. She was bent at the waist between two guys, her long blonde hair dangling free. The guys, whom Catherine had seen around campus but didn't know, had their pants around their ankles and their dicks in Marissa. Marissa was sucking one guy's prick while the other was vigorously humping her from behind.
When Marissa saw her dumbstruck roommate out of the corner of her eye, she pulled the hard cock out of her mouth to smile stupidly at her and squeal.
"Catherine! Like, oh my god! Come and play! It's so fun!"
Hearing her name brought Catherine out of her shocked stupor and hot blood rushed to her pale face.
"Marissa!" she exclaimed. "What are you doing!"
"It's a game called 'hide the sausage'!" Marissa exclaimed. "Derek and Chet are teaching me how to play! You just gotta try it--it's the funnest!"
The two guys were looking her up and down, eying her hopefully. Suddenly, Catherine was angry. Very, very angry. Something was wrong with her best friend. She was acting like she was on drugs or something and here were these two creepy guys taking advantage of her. For all Catherine knew they had drugged her. It seemed the only rational explanation.
"Get out!" she demanded, reaching into her bag and pulling out her mace.
"Hey!" said the one getting head. "Calm down! The slut is totally into it. If you don't want none, that's your business. You can just watch if that's your thing, but she invited us here for a three way and OH FUCKIN' SHIT! OH GOD! OH GOD! YOU FUCKIN' BITCH!"
"Holy shit, Chet! She fuckin' maced you!" exclaimed the guy with his cock in Marissa's cooze who by elimination must have been Derek.
Chet came at her, swatting blindly with his pants around his ankles. For all his trouble, he got a patent leather pump squarely between his naked thighs. He immediately crumpled.
"Holy Shit!" exclaimed Derek, struggling to pull out of Marissa's tight twat. The task was made difficult by the sex-crazed girl thrusting back towards him every time he started to pull out.
"Weeeee!" she exclaimed, wiggling her ass.
"Stop it, you crazy slut!" he exclaimed. "Can't you see your roommate is nuts?"
"But I wanna play hide the sausage! <giggle!>" exclaimed the impaled coed. "Fucky-fucky-fuck!"
"Get out!" screamed Catherine, brandishing her mace and advancing on Derek.
He backed away, Marissa's anxious ass doggedly following his retreating cock. Eventually he backed into the wall of the small room. Taking advantage of the leverage, he placed both hands on Marissa's firm ass and pushed her off his cock and into her furious roommate. The two girls tumbled to the ground in a jumble of arms and legs. Grabbing his pants, he made for the door, where Chet had crawled into the hallway.
"You better run!" shouted Catherine from beneath a naked, giggling Marissa.
"You're crazy, bitch! You're both nuts!" Derek exclaimed from the doorway.
Catherine extricated herself from her whacked-out friend and the guys fled in terror. She was tempted to pursue, but Marissa needed her. She slammed the door and locked it.
"Here, Marissa," said Catherine, grabbing up a fuzzy pink bath robe and squatting beside her naked roommate. The anger cooled as she focused on her abused friend. She gently helped her sit up and tried to placed the robe around her shoulders.
"But I'm pretty naked!" objected Marissa. "The boys said so!"
"Marissa, sweetie, those boys did something to you," Catherine tried to explain.
"I know!" said Marissa, brightening. "It was so fun! Why'd you chase 'em away? I was winning the game!"
The naked girl pouted a bit, but then broke out again in giggles. Catherine sighed. What on earth could she be on? Catherine had to find out. She would take Marissa to the emergency room but she first needed to know what the guys had given her. The doctor's wouldn't be able to help her if they didn't know what was in her. Blood tests could take forever.
"Marissa," she said, again pressing the robe on her, this time with more success. "I think those guys must have drugged you. I need you to think. Did they give you something to drink or eat?"
Marissa giggled.
"They gave me sausages! But they aren't really sausages," she shook her head. "They're really their thingies! <giggle>"
Catherine shuttered.
"No, Marissa, before that. Where did you meet them anyway?"
"Outside the one place with all the books," Marissa said.
"The library?" Catherine asked.
"Oh yeah! That's what that thingy is called! <giggle> You're so smart Catherine!"
So where you this morning, thought Catherine, but she pushed forward.
"And what were they doing outside the library?"
"They were just talkin' and stuff, so I asked them if they wanted to see my boobies and they said they did, so I showed them my boobies and they liked them a lot!"
Catherine had never seen Marissa so proud about anything.
"Wait, you just went up to them and showed them your breasts? And that was the first time you saw them today?"
"Uh-huh," Marissa confirmed, then giggled.
"And what were you doing before then?"
"I was showin' my boobies to some other guys. I showed 'em to like a hundred different guys today!" she bragged.
"Oh my god!" exclaimed Catherine.
"That's what they said too!" Marissa exclaimed.
"Marissa, why on earth were you showing guys your boobs?"
"Cuz they like it, silly!" she explained. "The teacher guy even said so!"
"Wait, what teacher guy?" Catherine asked.
"The one with the really big cock!" Marissa clarified.
Could a professor have done this to her? It was to horrible to imagine. Plumbing Marissa for information in this state was near impossible though. Maybe if Catherine could find her planner she could retrace Marissa's steps and figure out who had done this to her.
She rummaged about Marissa's desk. This would normally bug the hell out of her roommate but in her current condition she was just singing softly to her self, punctuating it occasionally with giggles. Marissa's desk was in horrid disarray, but that wasn't due to her disheveled mind; it was always like that. Her planner was nowhere to be seen. Catherine realized with despair that Marissa had probably taken it with her when she left that morning and certainly wasn't likely to remember to take it back with her when she was busy showing her boobs to every guy on campus.
But she was in luck. There under a copy of Cosmo was a flyer--it was calling for volunteers for a psychology experiment. Written on it in Marissa's loopy scrawl was 'Thursday--11:00'. This was Thursday. The experiment was being run by Dr. ___ Jones. It was worth a shot.
"Marissa, was it Dr. Jones that told you to show your boobs to guys?" she asked, turning back to her friend.
Marissa had the robe spread wide open, along with her thighs, and the handle of Catherine's favorite hair brush was deep inside her pussy. Her tongue was lolling out of her mouth and her eyes were wide, frantic, delirious.
"God, Marissa, what are you doing?" Catherine exclaimed, as if it wasn't obvious.
She went to her friend and tried to both close the bathrobe and retrieve her hairbrush. Marissa misinterpreted what she was trying to do.
"Yes! Yes!" she exclaimed. "Help 'rissa fuck! So horny! So horny!"
"No, Marissa, no!" Catherine cried, fighting her for the hair brush but only succeeding in pumping it in an out of her.
"Yes, Cat, Yes!" she cried "'Rissa like! Rissa like!"
Marissa let one hand off the brush and grabbed hold of Catherine's right boob, staining her blouse with the fluid that was welling up out of her cunt. Catherine was so shocked that she didn't take advantage and pull out the brush. She just stared at her friends hand groping her, shocked at how hard her nipples had gotten.
"<giggle> Cat has nice boobies too!" her maddened friend observed. "If Cat will like 'Rissa's pussy, 'Rissa will lick Cat's pussy!"
Catherine blushed furiously.
"Oh my god," was all she could say.
Then she remembered her anger at whoever had done this to her friend. Her anger was her salvation. She could do anything if she was pissed enough. She pulled the hairbrush out of Marissa's hand and hole and threw it across the room. She then slapped Marissa's kneading hand from her chest.
"Now look, Marissa, you've got to pull yourself together! Someone has done something horrid to you and we've got to find out who it was. I can't take you to the hospital or the police like this and I can't leave you alone, so you've got to get dressed and you've got to come with me, understand?"
"But Ca-at, I'm hor-neeeeeey!" she whined.
"I don't care!" Catherine declared. "Put your clothes on!"
She pointed to the pile on the floor. Cowed, she pouted but started dressing, lower lip quivering. Catherine sighed and looked at her stained blouse. She couldn't go out like this but after what just happened, she didn't feel comfortable taking off her blouse in front of Marissa. Well, maybe if she changed fast, Marissa wouldn't look. She seemed very engrossed in figuring out how her clothing worked. Catherine found a clean shirt that matched her pants and, as Marissa struggled with buttons, she shucked off the dirty one and pulled on the clean one. When her head popped through the collar, Marissa was grinning and staring in the direction of her boobs. Catherine shuddered.
They came to the Psychology and Sociology building. It was an eventful journey. Catherine had to constantly guard against Marissa flashing people. Eventually, she insisted on holding her hand, which made Catherine extremely self conscious as to what people might be thinking about the two of them. Marissa had no such qualms. She continued to try and flash people one handed.
As they got closer to the Soc. and Psych building, however, people were less inclined to look at them, even when Marissa was able to lift her shirt. No less than five other girls were displaying their own hooters with both hands free. Occasional glimpses of Marissa's rack, quickly censored by Catherine, weren't nearly as much of a draw.
What on earth was going on? It had to be the experiment Marissa had participated in that morning. Catherine had tried to plumb her addled brain for information about how they might have given her the drugs, but although she did admit she had gone to the building that morning, all she could remember about what went on their was 'pretty colors' and a really big dick. Catherine assumed that had all been after the drugs.
The flyer directed them to one of the outbuildings behind the main brick building, trailers brought in last decade when enrollment was up and class room space was in short supply. Most of them were empty now and they were often rented out to recruiters around graduation time or any one else that the university could make a buck off of. The experiment Marissa participated in was co-sponsored by BTI--some company Catherine assumed. She would have to find out where the company was based. When Marissa finally sobered up, she was going to want to sue.
Assuming they hadn't permanently damaged her. That was to horrid to think about. Catherine's anger drove her onward.
They found the right outbuilding and Catherine barged in without knocking, towing Marissa their behind her.
There behind a desk was a black woman with voluminous hair and ridiculously large breasts wearing a hot pink lycra minidress with matching hoop earrings, fake fingernails, and high-heeled boots, which were up on top of the desk while their owner filed her nails and flashed her pantiless cooze.
"Hi! Do you have an appointment?" the woman asked in a high, singing voice.
Catherine was taken aback for a moment.
"I dunno," admitted Marissa.
Catherine's anger rallied.
"She already had an appointment! I demand to know what was done to her and what sort of sick 'experiment' you're running here. Where is this Dr. Jones?" she demanded.
"Dr. Jones is with another volunteer right now, but if you'll have a seat he'll be right with you," the receptionist told her, the embodiment of professional behavior despite appearing every inch the whore.
"Oh no, I'm not waiting. I want to see exactly what he's doing with this 'volunteer'. He's back there, isn't he?"
"Well, yes, but..."
The woman seemed to be looking for something on the desk.
"Where's the button?" she asked, directing the question to no one in particular.
Catherine charged ahead, Marissa in tow. She threw the door open. Their was a man in his mid forties standing with his legs spread and his pants around his ankles, an Asian woman kneeling naked before him, her head bobbing away on his cock. Catherine recognized her from her Women's Studies class last semester. She was one of the smartest women in the class. She was giggling as she fellated the man that Catherine could only assume was Dr. Jones.
"What the hell is going on her!" Catherine demanded.
The man started and stared at her in horror. The student looked at her from the corner of her eye and waved cheerfully but continued sucking dick.
"Tittiefuck!" shouted Dr. Jones. "You were supposed to zap anyone that tried to come back here."
"I'm sorry Dr. Jones," exclaimed the receptionist, who now stood behind Catherine and Marissa. "I forgot about the gun thingy. Like, in the office, I have like this button on my desk and, like, that's the button I push. Plus, like, at the office all the doors are locked."
"Well here, we have the zapper, remember? The zap-per"
"Yeah, I remember now," said the receptionist. "See, here it is!"
Catherine turned to see the receptionist was holding what looked like a cross between a TV remote and a vibrator.
"So zap her, you stupid bimbo!" demanded Dr. Jones.
"Oh yeah, right!" she exclaimed.
"What the?" exclaimed Catherine.
The woman was pointing the thing at her, pushing one of the buttons. The right side of Catherine's face started to twitch. Other than that, nothing happened.
"Get them out of her. I'm almost done with this one." said Dr. Jones.
"You're done with her now, you evil bastard!" Catherine demanded, turning back to the man with his pants around his ankles. "You're going to tell me right now what you did to my friend and to that girl and anybody else. And you stop that, you bimbo! It's giving me a headache!"
"What the fuck?" demanded Dr. Jones, his face falling. "Tittiefuck, are you sure your using that thing the right way?"
"I'm pushing the red button, Dr. Jones!" the woman, Tittiefuck?, told him. "I don't know why she isn't happy. Maybe the batteries are dead."
The black woman turned the thing at her own face. She got a huge smile on her face and giggled.
"Isssworkinallrighty... Heep! HeeeglHeeegl... glglglglgll"
The receptionist's tongue lolled out of her mouth and she started to drool and gibber.
"Oh shit!" exclaimed Dr. Jones, a look of panic crossing his face as he pushed the girl on her knees away from his genitals. "Wait, um, I can explain. If you'll just watch this movie..."
He hit a button and a swirl of vibrant colors appeared on the screen at the far end of the room.
"Oooo!" The pretty colors exclaimed Marissa, pushing her way into the room to stare at the screen. The Asian girl crawled towards the screen, the same vacant smile that Marissa had on her face.
"Horny... so horny..." the two girls said in unison.
Catherine watched the screen as well. Her face twitched. Her head hurt. She got angrier.
"Is this how you do this to them?" she demanded. "How dare you! You are so going to jail!"
"Don't you, um, feel, um... shit..." exclaimed the professor, then yanked up his pants and rushed her.
Catherine grabbed for her mace, but to late. The charging man bowled her over.
"You'll never get away with this!" Catherine yelled. "The cops will find you! I'll testify. You'll go to jail forever!"
"Like hell, bitch," he yelled, grabbing the remote-thingy from the drooling receptionist who had sunk down to the floor.
He aimed the thing at Catherine and started pushing buttons. Various parts of Catherine twitched, but she got up and now she had her mace ready. She aimed it at the pervert and was about to let him have it when suddenly she felt bad. Very, very bad. Nauseous, dizzy, like any moment she might... oh no."
"Marissa!" she cried, "Help me!"
Marissa had her head buried between the the Asian girl's thighs and the girl was reciprocating. The only one coming to Catherine's rescue was the floor, and it was coming up fast.
Everything went black.
When Catherine awoke, her head throbbed like it was about to implode--or possibly already had. The second thing she was aware of was that she was sitting up. That couldn't be right.
Her eyes fluttered open and she was indeed sitting upright in some weird sort of chair. No, she wasn't sitting in it... she was strapped to it... naked!
Catherine's heart began to race. She struggled against her bonds. In so doing, she realized her bonds didn't only consist of the straps around her ankles, knees, wrists, elbows and head. Something long and hard was sticking up from her seat and on up her asshole. Her struggling made her feel like she needed to poop.
She swallowed. What kind of hell had she gotten herself into?
"Good morning Caty-cat-catherine!" came a familiar voice. "You're finally awake?"
"Marissa!" she called out, unable to turn her head in the direction of the voice. "Marissa, are you all right? Can you help me get out of this?"
"Marissa is wooooonderful!" her friend exclaimed. "This place is like so cool! They gave me cool clothes and big boobies and everything!"
Catherine blinked, then blinked again, momentarily distracted from her distressing position by the freakish apparition that now came into view. It was Marissa, and yet it wasn't.
Marissa had always been blonde, but now she was blonder than blonde, soft shiny platinum curls forming a massive halo around her heavily made up face and tumbling down her back. She had the same vapid, horny look on her face that she had had since Catherine first found her in the dorm and it was all the more enhanced by sparkley pink make up. There was no way Marissa's lips could look that full with make-up alone, though. Her formerly WASPy lips were so thick and full and sensual that they could only be the result of collagen injections. Marissa kept licking them, giving their hot pink paint job a moist sheen. Catherine was reminded of a blow up doll she had seen in a window down town once when she had made a wrong turn.
Catherine only had an instant to contemplate her friends lips, however, as her eyes were inevitably drawn down to Marissa's breasts. They were the sort of boobs that demanded to be stared at. Huge, jutting bazoombas that seemed poised to break through the barrier of thin pink lycra that was Marissa's dress and zoom like rockets around the room.
"My God, Marissa! What did they do to you?"
"They made me pretty <giggle> and I got to fuck a lot! This place is, like, so cool! It's way cooler than Disney world! The only thing that was sad was that you were missing it all and you're my bestest friend! But now your awake so you can get big boobies and be pretty too!"
She hugged herself under her inflated boobs with excitement and pranced about on her ridiculous shoes--pink and turquoise jelly sandals with chunky 6" plastic heels. If it hadn't been for the contented smile on her painted face, Catherine would have thought she needed to pee.
This thought brought Catherine back to her own uncomfortable situation. Marissa wasn't in much condition to rescue her, but at the moment she seemed the best hope Catherine had.
"Marissa, sweetie," she said, like she was talking to a child. "I need you to help me get out of this chair. Can you see if you can undo these straps on my arms?"
"Gosh, I don't know," she said, looking at the straps. "That looks hard. Why don't you jus' ask Mr. Fink? He's really smart an' sooooo cute! <giggle>"
"Who?" asked Catherine.
"Mr. Fink, silly! He's standin' right there!" exclaimed Marissa. "Mr. Fink, can you help Caty-cat get out of the chair? She's up now and so she can get pretty clothes and big boobies too!"
"Not just yet, Marissa," came an amused masculine voice from behind Catherine. "I'm not sure that your friend wants pretty clothes and big boobies right now."
"Hey! Who is that? You let me go right now!" Catherine exclaimed, struggling to see where the voice came from.
"Patience, Catherine, patience," he extolled. "I don't want to keep you in that chair any longer than necessary. Indeed, I didn't want you here at all. You pose a bit of a problem for me. You are, you see, one of those rare women who are immune to our standard BimboTech technology. About one woman in ten thousand proves resistant--lucky for you and unlucky for Dr. Jones. Had I been consulted prior to his unfortunate and unauthorized off-site operation, I would have brought this possibility to his attention. I assure you, he is being severely reprimanded as we speek."
The man chuckled softly at some private joke.
"Still, the clean up for his actions falls to me. As the Chief Executive Officer of BimboTech Incorporated, I cannot allow the sort of negative publicity you are probably inclined to bring to our company. It simply isn't in keeping with our current business plan."
"And kidnaping and assault is?" Catherine demanded.
"You've got spunk, kid. Completely helpless, yet you still take the offensive. I admire that, so I'll tell you what. Even though I shouldn't, I'll make you a deal. I'm a bit of a compulsive gambler, you see. So here's the bet:"
Suddenly, a large podium rose up in front of Catherine from an opening in the floor.
"This is the control panel of the chair you are currently seated in. It's our latest generation of BimboTech equipment, still untested. It works on different principles, however, so I'm hoping it will work on you. Now, one of the buttons on the consul will release you from the chair. The other buttons and dials and switches do other things. Now, if you can get your bimbofied friend to release you without turning you into a vegetable, you have my word that I will let both of you go. Do we have a bet?"
"You sicko!" Catherine yelled. "I'm not going to play any of your perverted games! You'll just have to kill me!"
"Yes, well, that's what all my colleagues suggested, but killing is such a nasty business." said the voice. "Not at all in keeping with the spirit of our happy company. Tell you what, I'll just leave you and your friend to think it over for a while. There's no rush. I'll be back in a few."
There was a click somewhere behind her and then silence, except for Marissa.
"B-bye!" she called out, then she sighed. "Ca-therine I'm bo-ored!"
"Damn it Marissa, I don't care if your bored! You got me into this and now I'm gonna die!"
Marissa giggled. Giggled!
"Don't be silly, Catherine! You're not gonna die! This is a happy fucky-fuck place! Nothing bad ever happens here!"
"Look, just... just shut up, O.K.! You can't help me. I guess I'm glad that at least I'm not you."
"<Giggle> Your silly Caty-cath!" she said.
"SHUT UP!" screamed Catherine.
"Well gosh, y' don't have t'be all, like, mean about it." Marissa pouted.
It was the first non-ecstatic emotion she had seen on her face since she had maced the two guys in their dorm room. She took some satisfaction that she could at least get to her on some level. The girlish pout was infinitely preferable to the horny, stupid grin.
It didn't last long, though. After a few minutes of sullen wandering around the room, she started humming to herself and tugging on her right nipple. Soon she was giggling again. Catherine started to wonder if they were just leave them locked in here until Marissa drove her crazy. Finally, she broke. Anything was better than this.
"Marissa!" she shouted.
"Do you wanna play now Caty-cath!" Marissa cried, scampering up to her like a hopeful puppy.
"God, don't call me that!" Catherine exclaimed. "Look, I want you to listen to me very carefully. I need you to go over to that consul and look at it--but don't touch anything! Just look at it and tell me what you see."
"That's a funny game," said Marissa, dubious.
Catherine bit her lip.
"You just do this for me and then when I'm out of this chair you can choose the game. O.K.?"
"All right," she said, "But you gotta do whatever I say!"
"Yeah, sure. But you first. Go look at the control panel."
Marissa jiggled and swayed over to the control panel.
"Oh wow! Pretty colors!" Marissa exclaimed, reaching forward.
"Don't touch it!" Catherine ordered, frantic.
Marissa jerked her hand back, sending her a shockwave through her inflated rack.
"But Ca-thrine!" she whined. "They're pretty! I wanna see what they do!"
"How many are there?" Catherine asked.
"Gosh, like a gazillion!"
Catherine rolled here eyes at the futility of it.
"Are they labeled? Does one of them say 'off' or 'release' or, gosh, I don't know, 'abort'?"
"Like, oh my god, Caty-cath'rine, there's lots of letters all over! Should I push a button with letters? I wanna push the big red one!"
"Marissa, don't!" Catherine cried out, but too late. Something electric passed through her and she trembled. Her nipples ached and buzzed. She looked down and saw her naked breasts rippling, bubbling, swelling. They had been the size of pomegranates, now they were the size of large great fruits.
Catherine panted and blinked. Marissa squealed.
"Catherine! Your boobies got bigger! I found the bigger boobie button!"
Catherine struggled to speak as Marissa reached for the consul again.
"N-nnnnnnggg!" Catherine exclaimed as once again she was electrified and her breasts heaved and expanded.
Marissa giggled and clapped at the results.
"Your titties are as big as mine!" she exclaimed.
She was right. Catherine's breasts were now like two full ripe cantaloupes. She could no longer see her lap.
"Damn it, Marissa" Catherine exclaimed between gasping breaths. "Don't-huh-push that-huh-button again!"
"Why? Oh, you want our boobies to stay the same size so we'll match? Gosh, Catherine, you're such a good friend! <giggle> Do you want to have a big round toushy like me too? I bet one of these buttons will do it!"
"St-aaw-aw-aw-aaaaaaaaah!" exclaimed Catherine as again she felt electrified. Her nipples were no more effected than the rest of her this time, though. Instead, her clitoris throbbed and tingled. Her DDD breasts kept her from seeing what was going on down there, but it was very hot and very wet. Hot, slick fluid was running down her inner thighs and dripping onto her bound ankles. She was suddenly hornier than she had ever been in her life.
"Like, oh my god, Cat! Your clitty got so big! I wish my clitty was that big! Can I try the chair thingy next!"
"Y-you-huh-you stupid bimbo! Wh-what are you doing to me?"
"I'm making you pretty!" Marissa exclaimed. "It's jus' like a make-over!"
Catherine's world was crumbling around her. Her best friend was turning her into some kind of freak. She was so horny she could barely think. All she knew was that she had to stop Marissa. Marissa, that stupid cunt! Catherine had never even so much as thought that word, but there was a strange buzzing in the back of her head, whispering, saying all sorts of foul things about her best friend. Catherine was too angry, too frustrated, too horny to even notice what the whispers were saying, but soon she was shouting them out of her own volition.
"Damn it, Marissa, you stupid cock-sucking slut! Stop fucking around and do what your fucking told or I'm going to ream your ass!"
"Like, oh my god Cat! You don't have to be all bitchy about it! I'm jus' tryin' to make you pretty like me! It's not my fault I can't find the bum-bum button. Maybe it's this one."
"No, you fu-uh-uh-uuuuuuuh!"
Now it was Catherine's scalp that tingled and soon her hair was growing at a phenomenal rate, big, ratted and bleached, the roots still dark.
"Damn it, Marissa you stupid whore! Stop trying to work that thing! You don't know shit about shit! You're almost too stupid to fuck! If you can't get me out of this thing then just go frig yourself! It's the only thing your any good at!"
Marissa's lower lip trembled.
"Are you gonna cry now, you fucking baby?" Catherine demanded.
"I... I just wanted to make you pretty, Catherine. I can get you out, I just know I can! Here, it's probably this button."
Marissa reached for a button at the very top of the console. Catherine screamed a foul-mouthed
protest, causing her friend to loose her balance on her ridiculous shoes, her huge rack pulling her down and pressing half a dozen buttons at once. Catherine's outburst became louder and less coherent.
As Catherine burbled and shook, her breasts continued to expand. Soon they were both bigger than her head and still growing. At the same time, robotic arms emerged from the chair and began to pierce her ears, her eyebrows, her nipples, her monstrous clit. As Marissa scrambled across the console, Catherine's ass became rounder and firmer, her lips swelled up five-fold, a dozen tattoo needles emerged and descended on her convulsing face, somehow managing to precisely give her permanent make-up: dark red lips, violet and green eye lids, dramatic, whore-like rouge. Another misguided button push from Marissa and Catherine's eyelashes became thick and heavy.
"Oh. My. God." said Marissa when she finally righted herself and saw what her bumbling had done. "Your titties are so big!"
Marissa was understating the matter. The panting, blinking Catherine couldn't even see her knees. Two prize-winning watermelon size breast occluded her view.
"You-huh-fucking-huh-cunt-huh. When I get out, gulp, out of this thing I am going-huh-to fuck you up!"
"Um, sorry?" said Marissa. "Oh, wait a minute!"
She through a lever. The straps immediately released Catherine. The thing up her ass slipped out in a way that was not at all unpleasant, but Catherine was focused only on the fact that she could now get Marissa, that cunt-whore-bimbo.
"You stupid cunt!" Catherine roared as Marissa petulantly sucked her lower lip. "Look what you've done to me!"
She placed a hand under each mammoth mammary and tried to heft them.
"You've turned me into a freak! A huge-titted, fuckable, horny freak!"
Her anger mixed with her arousal giving her an odd sense of power. Power she most wanted to use over Marissa, to put the bimbo in her place. Her roommate stood there looking dumb as a light post, wrapping a blonde curl around her finger and chewing her lower lip. Marissa knew she was in trouble bust she wasn't quite sure why.
"Well, I jus..." she said, looking down at her own inflated breasts.
"Look at me!" Catherine demanded, grabbing her buy her curly blonde locks near the scalp and pressing her face into the canyon of her cleavage. "Look at my titties! Look at my humongous, luscious, fuckable titties! Do you know what a fuckable freak I look like? Do you know how fucking horny it makes me?
"MmmmnnngMmmmng!" exclaimed the smothering Marissa.
"You have no fucking idea! All I want to do is just fuck and fuck and fuck! It's all
I can fucking think about! And you know who's fault that is?"
She yanked Marissa's head back, raising her dazed and confused face back out into the air.
"It's your fault, you stupid cunt bimbo!" Catherine explained. "So you know who
I'm going to fuck first and most? You, Marissa! You! From now on you're my own personal whore!"
"Marissa is a whore?" she asked, a silly grin returning to her face.
"Don't talk, whore! Eat me! Suck my clitty! Right now! You live to serve my cunt!"
Catherine forcefully directed her downward with a yank of the hair she still held. Marissa knelt obediently, her blonde head disappearing underneath Catherine's monster rack as Catherine pressed her face into her hungry cunt.
"Mmmmm!" Marissa exclaimed into her friend's pussy, confused but delighted to be used sexually. She reached around and grabbed hold of Catherine's firm round asscheeks, digging her pink-painted nails in as she pressed her face to Catherine's yoni and lapped with vigor.
Catherine didn't mind the pain of the nails digging into her ass flesh; she liked it and she loved having her bimbo girlfriend's tongue buried inside her, desperately trying to please her. She felt powerful, sexual, triumphant! She released Marissa's hair to reach forward with both hands to grab hold of her monster nipples. She pulled them outward, turning her elbows in, forming deep dimples in the sides of her mounds.
Catherine was coming now and everything was right. This was her destiny! To fuck in all her glory! To have a bimbo whore servicing her cunt, serving her every nasty need. She let out a triumphant and maniacal laugh.
"Hahahahahahahaha! Yes! Yes! Eat me you bimbo slut! Lick me, you cunt whore! You're a slave to my pussy! You and every other fucking bimbo! I am your queen! I am your mistress! I am your cunt-goddess! Worship me!"
Catherine began to thrust and buck her pelvis into Marissa's lapping face, but the bimbo was dizzy from forgetting to breath while licking her new owner's slit and she toppled backwards, dragging Catherine down with her. Catherine's huge tits hit the ground first and cushoned the rest of her, temporarily blinding her as her face was lost in her own cleavage. She hands managed to find the floor and she freed her head. With the shock of the fall, Marissa had stopped licking her.
"I didn't say you could stop!" Catherine exclaimed. "You eat me until I say your done, bimbo!"
So saying, she hunted about with her hips until she found Marissa's face, then slammed her cunt down and started to vigorously slide up and down, fucking her face from chin to forehead. Marissa made confused little moans. At last, Catherine reached a roaring orgasm. She screamed out in triumph, then rolled off her friend's face to lie on her back, her huge tits quivering.
The panting Marissa rolled to her side and propped herself up on one hand. Her face was completely drenched with Catherine's pussy juice and it dripped off her chin and her smiling puffy lips.
"Cat's pussy is yummy!" said the bimbo, then she giggled.
"Catherine!" exclaimed Catherine. "You'll call me Mistress Catherine! And you're not through being punished, you stupid cunt!"
With a tremendous effort, Catherine hauled her huge melons into a siting position.
"Get on your knees, bimbo! Face on the floor!"
Marissa bit her lip, confused, but she did as she was told, presenting her plump bubble butt to her mistress.
"It's time for your spanking!" said Catherine and slapped Marissa's tremendous toushie with her open palm.
"Oooow!" said Marissa. "Catherine, that hurts!"
"MISTRESS CATHERINE!" she exclaimed, slapping her ass again. ""You call me Mistress!"
"Cath" <whack> "Mistress, that hurts!"
"Yes, you bimbo whore! It hurts because your bad! You need to be punished! And you'll like it, damnit! Ask me for another!"
"What?"
<Whack!>
"Ask me for another spanking!"
"Uh... can I... uh... can I have another spanking?"
<Whack!>
"Say 'please'!"
"Please can I have another?"
<Whack!>
"Say 'please Mistress'!"
"Please Mistress can I have another?"
<Whack!>
Catherine laughed maniacally.
"And they say a bimbo can't be taught! Ask for another, whore!"
"Please Mistress can I have another?"
<Whack!>
This went on for sometime, Marissa's ass quivering with each blow, Catherine laughing at her new found pleasure and power. Marissa's buttcheeks were quite red when Catherine became aware that someone was standing behind her. A smallish man with a mustache and a balding head.
"Pardon me, but I was admiring your technique and I thought perhaps this might be of use to you."
He held out to her a mottled and ribbed black plastic strap-on dildo at least a foot long. Any question about who the man was was swept from her mind as Catherine fixated on the treasure he offered.
"Yesssss," she said "Yes, that I can use!"
She grabbed the thing and in no time it was strapped to her pelvis, the shorter knob in her hungry cunt, the long phallus pointing before her. She turned her evil grin back to Marissa's ass.
"No more spank-spank?" asked Marissa.
"No spank-spank," said Catherine. "Ass-fuck! Spread your cheeks!"
The bimbo did as she was told. Catherine's aim was true and she shot the black monstrosity home, making Marissa bleat like a sheep as it thrust it's way through her sphincter. Catherine cackled, grabbed Marissa by the hips and started to pump, drawing the dildo in and out with ever increasing fervor as Marissa cried out in equal parts discomfort and ecstasy, grinding her quim-stained face into the floor.
At last, Catherine let Marissa collapse, quivering on the floor. Her make-up was smeared, her dress wrinkled and torn, her hair tangled and tousled. Her expression was deliriously delighted and submissively worshipful as she stared up at her mistress.
The man who had brought Catherine the black dildo was back. Now he had brought her a black bimbo, one with tits nearly as large as her own, nicely displayed in a clingy purple dress.
"I must say, Miss, that was masterfully handled! You certainly know how to put a bimbo in her place! I was wondering, assuming you're not too tired, if you could help me out a bit. Tittiefuck here has been taking liberties that she shouldn't, doing freelance work without authorization. Since you have such a talent for it, I was hoping you could fuck her into submission, if you don't mind.
Catherine was still breathing hard from the work out she had given Marissa, but the fire in her eyes still burned as brightly. The black bimbo seemed somehow familiar to her, familiar and contemptuous. Oh, she could fuck the silly bitch all right. She grinned evilly and grabbed a handful of the bimbo's voluminous black hair.
"No problem," she told the man. "It'd be my pleasure. ON YOUR KNEES, CUNT!"
The bimbo went down and her eyes went wide. She turned to the man, questioningly, but Catherine jerked her head back so that the startled bimbo stared into her fiery eyes.
"Don't worry about him. You belong to me know! I am your Mistress! I am your Queen! And your queen wants to fuck your asshole!"
So saying, she propelled Tittiefuck downward so her tits and face pressed the floor. The tiny purple dress rode up around her hips, showing her ass, a little bit of floss down the middle. Catherine didn't even bother removing the thong. She slammed the strap-on home, pushing it to one side. Tittiefuck's asshole had more experience than Marissa's but it had never experienced the raw, insatiable lust that was Catherine. In no time she was screaming out in hyper-fucked delirium.
Catherine had removed her strap-on and was drawing it with slow contemplation between her huge tits. She was standing once again as Marissa knelt before her eating her cunt, but now she was stabilized by Tittiefuck behind, eating her ass. She let her jugs hold the dildo and reached before and aft to press the two bimbos' faces deeper into her respective orifices. The sluts moaned and licked harder. It was good to be the queen.
Catherine became aware that the short balding man who had brought her Tittiefuck was standing before her, smiling expectantly.
"You certainly have a way with bimbos," he observed when he saw he had her attention.
"Oh, I'm the best baby," Catherine bragged, pulling the girls' hair so they squeaked. "You got any more that need to be shown their place? I could fuck their stupid faces all day!"
"Well, actually, that was precisely what I wanted to talk to you about. Obviously you won our little bet and you're free to take your bimbo and go."
Catherine frowned.
"What bet?" she asked.
"Why the bet that you couldn't t get the bimbo to let you out of the chair, of course. Not only did you make her release you, you thoroughly punished her for taking so long to do so. It was incredible to watch. I've never seen such expert handling!"
Catherine tried to think back to before she had started fucking the bimbos. It seemed so long ago.
"Hey, your that fucker who tied me to that chair!" she said, remembering.
She knew she should be mad, but after hours of fucking and a bimbo face before and behind she was feeling awfully good. He shouldn't have tied her up, but he had given him full use of his bimbo. That counted for something.
"Yes, well, I'm sorry about that of course. I wasn't sure what to do about you, but now I see you're quite capable of handling yourself and your bimbo friend. This brings me to my proposition. Dr. Jones irresponsibility has left your campus littered with bimbos in desperate need of guidance. I would be most grateful if you were to use your talents to take them in hand and keep them from getting themselves in too much trouble. If you were willing to do so, I believe we could come to an arrangement in which you had free access to our services."
Catherine arched an intrigued, pierced eyebrow.
"What services would that entail?" she asked.
"Why, unlimited modification of any woman you want to bring here, of course! I'm willing to bet that you have a talent for recognizing the inner bimbo that needs a little help getting out! You just identify a woman, give us the specs and we'll have her fixed up for you in no time!"
Catherine gave a thoughtful half smile, spread her tits and looked down at Marissa's blonde head through her cleavage. She looked back at Mr. Fink.
"Could you make my entire sorority like her?" she asked.
Mr. Fink grinned.
"I like the way you think!" he exclaimed. "Why don't you and the bimbos get cleaned up and we'll discuss details!"
Two very different women stepped out of BimboTech Incorporated into the bright mid-day sunlight. Different from each other; different from the girls they had been just days before. It was impossible to look at either without thinking of sex, but very different sex indeed. To the left and a step behind, Marissa jiggled and giggled in tight white lycra, a brilliant, vacuous smile for anyone they passed proclaiming she was the easiest lay on the planet. Clacking before her confidently was Catherine, her massive rack swaying before her, her eyes bright, horny, predatory. She wasn't easy; she was hungry. Insatiable. And everyone she held in that smoldering, challenging glare knew they were on the menu.
Catherine lead Marissa along as if on an invisible leash. The thought amused Mistress Cat and she considered getting a real leash, but decided against it. Marissa was her slut, body and soul. A prop would be superfluous.
"Damn, you girls are hot!"
Catherine turned slowly, arching an eyebrow. Marissa was sticking her chest out and smiling at three bikers.
"Yes, we are aren't we. Careful you don't get burned."
Catherine grinned to let them know it was all in fun and the bikers laughed. She glanced about. There was an alley near by and a pay phone across the street. They were far enough away from BimboTech Inc. This would do. She drew a long, maroon fingernail under her puffy lower lip and gave a little chuckle.
"So you boys like bimbo poon?" she asked. "Because Marissa here is on special: thirty bucks a
hole; three holes, no waiting! If you roll one of your hogs into that alley, you can bend her over it. Do we have a deal?
The bikers looked at each other with boyish grins then agreed. Marissa cheered and clapped, bouncing her titties as she made little hops of joy. They pushed a Harley into the alley then pulled out there wallets at Catherine's insistence of cash up front. She tucked $90 into her cavernous cleavage, then held out a restraining hand before they descend on Marissa.
"Just one more thing, boys. There's a twenty five cent fluffer fee."
The bikers looked confused and somewhat suspicious.
"What's a fluffer fee?" asked the one in the middle.
"Give me a quarter and your prick and I'll show you," said Catherine. "I promise you'll like it."
The nasty, lust-filled look in Catherine's eye cut off any debate. He pulled out a quarter and handed it to her. Then he undid his belt. Catherine squatted before him and helped him finish freeing his cock, then licked it from balls to tip. She looked up at the other two men on either side.
"Come on now, boys. Quarters and cocks! I'll do all three of you at once. I'm a cunt with things to do!"
The men fumbled as they tried to pull out payment and pricks at the same time. Soon enough their quarters were between Catherine's monstrous tits, though, and she was busily drawing the first cock between her puffy lips as the other two dicks went hard in her hands.
"O.K. boys," she said once the bikers were rock hard and groaning. "You're ready. Do Miss Catherine a favor and fuck that bimbo whore in every hole."
She propelled the three towards Marissa, who sat impatiently waiting on the motorcycle playing with her right nipple and squirming in anticipation.
"Oh yeah!" she cried as three sets of hands began to fondle her. "Do me! Do me! Do me!"
Soon the white lycra dress was reduced to a thick and rumpled belt around her waist and the bikers were doing their best to fill her every hole. Marissa squealed and squirmed and sucked and fucked.
Catherine admired the scene for a moment, then she left them there in the alley groping for the quarters that she had dropped between her tits. She clacked her way across the street. Her tits could literally stop traffic. At the pay phone, she dialed a number she knew well.
"Hello?" came a familiar voice.
"Brooke?" Catherine responded. "Oh, thank God you're there!"
"Catherine? Oh my gosh, Catherine! Where are you? We've been so worried! Is Marissa with you? Are you all right? Where are you?"
"Calm down, Brooke. Calm down! I'm all right. Marissa is with me and she's not in any danger. She does need our help though."
"Oh my gosh, is she hurt?"
"Look, I can't explain it over the phone. Just get all the Zetas to meet us at the house in two hours. And don't tell anyone else! If word got out Marissa would just be devastated! This has to stay a ZTA secret! Promise me, Brooke!"
"Gosh, Catherine, of course I promise. I swear to God! I'll call everybody right now!"
"Great Brooke. I knew I could count on you. See you in two hours."
"Two hours. Got it. You're sure you're safe?"
"Perfectly. Gotta go now," Catherine said.
"O.K. B-bye," said Brooke and hung up.
Catherine grinned
"Stupid bimbo," she muttered.
Then she put in a second quarter and called BimboTech.
One week later...
Mistress Catherine sat enthroned in all her glory in the middle of the big common room of the ZTA house, surrounded by the bimbos that loved and feared her. It had been a busy week bringing all the Zetas in line, showing them who was boss, then rounding up the random bimbos wandering campus and brining them into the fold. It was a lot of hard work--at one point she had even broken one of her strap-ons--but Catherine had loved every minute of it.
She looked over at Fifi, a southeast Asian bimbo she had dressed in a French maid's outfit. She gestured at her with her empty glass and the girl scurried over to bring her a fresh gin and tonic and retrieve her empty glass. As she did so, she gave a bowing curtsy that nicely displayed her cleavage to her mistress. The girl had nice tits, thought Cat. But not nearly so nice as the mistress of the house. She took a deep breath, swelling out her tremendous rack until it threatened to burst out of the dark red-velvet and black leather corseted bustier. God she loved her tits.
They did get in the way sometimes though. For instance, she wasn't sure which of her many bimbo's was doing such a lovely job licking her out. Her gargantuan gazongas occluded the view of any thing but a pink bubble-butt wagging just past the horizon of her titties.
Mistress Cat looked over to one of the many mirrors she had ordered installed in the house to get a better view of her current worshiper. The nicely rounded ass had a pink heart tattoo on the left cheek that said Zeta Slut in red letters. That identified the bimbo as one of her sorority sisters, but didn't narrow it down any further since Cat had had them all tattooed like that.
The bimbo's pussy lips were red and swollen, looking like Cat had worked her over recently with a strap on, but that could be true of half a dozen bimbos. Some day, Cat hoped to be able to identify all of her bimbos by ass and pussy alone, but for now she would have to get a look at the girl's face.
Mistress Cat took a long drag on her long black cigarette holder. She had been forced to use a holder since smoking without one meant getting ash down her cleavage. This one was a good eighteen inches long and black, with a long Virginia Slim on the end of it. Once she had a load of red-hot ash on the tip, she reached out and tapped it on the toe of her long black high-heeled boot as it rested on the small of the bimbo's back. The hot ash dropped into the dimple that crowned the bimbo's crack and she squealed as her head shot up, knocking into Mistress Cat's overhanging knockers.
The bimbo managed to look behind her, trying to figure out what had happened and failing miserably. She was wearing a baby-blue tube top that her hard nipples were trying to drill through. She was naked from navel to ankles. These stupid bimbos were always loosing their skirts and hot pants, taking them off in an urgent need to fuck and then forgetting where they left them if they even remembered they had been wearing anything to begin with. They needed more discipline, thought Cat, and she smiled wickedly at the prospect.
Mistress Cat saw now that the bimbo with the burned bottom was Brooke, the second of her Zeta sisters to embrace her inner bimbo with the help of BTI. Cat had perhaps overdone the oral fixation she had given Brooke. Even as she fretted over her ass, she pulled a lock of her long, wavy blonde hair into her mouth and sucked on it and her lower lip as well. A little over done on the I.Q. reduction to--she almost made Marissa seem smart--but she lapped pussy like a dream. That quality more than made up for any other shortcomings in Cat's opinion and in this house, Cat's opinion was the only one that mattered.
"Brooke, be a good little bimbo and tell everyone to come here. I want to tell them a few things."
"Yes, Mistress Cat!" exclaimed Brooke, immediately ceasing to rub her ass to run giggling about the house calling out to all her sisters in bimbohood that their Mistress required their attendance.
"Eveyboby! Eveyboby!" she called, her tounge getting tangled in the lock of hair in her mouth. "Mistress Cat says to cum! <giggle> I mean we're suposta go see Mistress Cat! Hurry! Hurry! Hurry!"
Brooke couldn't decide whether to go up the stairs or in the other rooms on the main floor first and as a result, ran smack into the bit of wall between the door and the stairway and fell on her well-padded bum. She giggled, unfazed by her mistake, and scampered on up the stairs calling
the alarm.
Mistress Cat shook her head. A bimbo could be trained but she would always be a bimbo. She nodded again to Fifi in her little maid's costume. While the bimbos assembled, Cat could play one of her favorite discipline games.
"Lift your skirt, Fifi," she commanded and the girl complied, raising the frilly skirt to expose her shaved and swollen cunt with the hand that did not hold the drinks tray.
"Now keep you mouth shut and hold the tray steady. Don't spill anything, understand?"
Fifi opened her mouth to answer but a devastatingly raised eyebrow from Catherine slammed it shut again. Fifi nodded her understanding. Mistress Cat grinned and began to finger the Asian bimbo to orgasm.
Fifi shuddered and the glasses on her tray clinked together but she held the tray level and nothing dropped. she whimpered through tight clenched lips as slowly the room filled with every imaginable sort of bimbo. Their skin tones were a spectrum from porcelain white to ebony black. They were everything from crack-whore trashy to plastic barbie doll perfection. Their titties went from big to oh-my-fucking-god! They bounced, giggled, and jiggled into the room, then knelt before their mistress. When they were all assembled, Mistress Cat pulled her hand out of Fifi's sopping cunt, slapped her ass and indicated she should join the others.
"oh, and Fifi?" she said.
The bimbo looked expectantly.
"You can open your mouth now."
"Thank you, Mistress Cat," said Fifi with a curtsy, then knelt beside Mony, a redheaded bimbo dressed in a perverted version of a Catholic school girl uniform. Mony's cuntlips were peeking out from beneath the shortened plaid kilt, the white shirt unbuttoned and tied beneath her massive freckled jugs, a little gold cross hanging between them.
Mistress Cat licked Fifi's quim from her fingers as she surveyed the room, a general reviewing her kneeling bimbo army. They were ready. She had trained them well.
"You'll all have need of your mouths tonight. And your cunts, and your titties, and your tight little assholes. Tonight you will be fucked as you have never been fucked before!"
The bimbos smiled broadly and began to clap and cheer. Mistress Cat let them continue for a few seconds, then raised a commanding hand to silence them before the stupider ones forgot what they were applauding.
"Tonight, Zeta House becomes Mistress Cat's House of Pussy, home of the most fuckable bimbos in the world!"
Brooke looked like she had a question.
"That would be you," Cat answered and Brooke grinned and giggled.
"Now, I want out first night to be extra special, so I want all of you to be extra horny. Soooo, for the next five hours, until our customers arrive, nobody can touch their pussy, their titties, or their ass."
The girls looked horrified.
"Moreover, nobody can touch anybody elses pussy, tits or ass and nobody can leave the house. Instead, you're all going to clean this place up. It's a mess. I want all the beds made with clean sheets, all the panties and stockings removed from ceiling fans, all the quim stains cleaned from the carpets and banisters. After that, I want all of you showered. You can touch yourselves while you're in the shower, but you can only shower for five minutes each and only one person in a shower at a time. Once you're clean, everybody gets dressed in their sexiest, sluttiest clothes and do your makeup. The fliers we put around campus say you're the hottest bimbo whores around and you'd damned well better look like it. Once everyone's ready, then we fuck. Anyone who breaks the rules doesn't get any cock until two hours after the guest arrive. Understand?"
The bimbos looked miserable. Brooke looked like she was about to cry. But they all said "Yes, Mistress." She had trained them well.
"Well, come on now!" Cat roared. "Get cleaning!"
The bimbos leapt up and scurried about, some of them with the larger racks falling over in their attempt to stand to quickly. Those that couldn't get back up crawled about picking up the undergarments that littered the floor, dragging their huge tits along the floor.
Marissa!" called out Cat to her former roommate, who was wearing an outfit that consisted of a pink silk ribbon wrapped about her and tied in a bow between her tits. Marissa immediately dropped a dildo she had taken out of a potted plant and came to her mistress.
"Yes Mistress Cat?" she asked.
"I have another job for you," she said. "Come to my bedroom."
Marissa followed her up their stairs to her room. There in the middle of the biggest bedroom in the house was Mistress Cat's huge bed, specially designed by her friends at BimboTech. It was big enough for half a dozen bimbos to fuck on it at once without falling off, with straps to tie limbs down at various points and four tall bedposts with platforms around them where bimbos could pole dance.
Mistress Cat undid her black lace G-string and let it flutter to the ground. She picked up the latest issue of Hustler from the nightstand, then pulled out the cushion that filled the cutout depression in the middle of the mattress. By design, it was precisely the size of Cat's tremendous rack She crawled onto the bed and eased her titties into their cozy nest, then started to flip through her magazine.
"Worship my ass, Marissa," she said without looking up.
"But you said," started Marissa.
"Rules don't apply to me, stupid whore! I'm Queen of the Bimbos! Face! Ass! Now!"
"Yes Mistress!" said Marissa and dove between Cat's checks.
Mistress Cat sighed contentedly, then started reading an article on internet porn writers and their
tremendous sexual prowess.
The bimbos were twitching and agitated. It was only 6:30, half an hour to go until Mistress Cat's House of Pussy opened for business, according to the fliers. Cat wasn't sure if they could make it. Brooke was babbling incoherently to herself walking in circles, purple-haired Jelly was 'air-humping' some imagined stud, a dozen others were sitting on couches squirming and rubbing their thighs together. Even Marissa, whom Cat herself had fisted after reading her magazine, was looking so randy she might die.
Then Becky bounced into the room, squealing. Becky was another Zeta Slut and she was particularly good at bouncing. Her silicone tits were perfectly spherical and the size of soccer balls. The tiny orange string bikini she was wearing was doing what it could to contain them, but that wasn't much. A blonde ponytail sprouted from the top of her head, looped up and then plunged down to curl up below her ass. The pony tail bounced along with her titties and even her inflated ass joined in the frenetic quivering.
"Becky!" roared Cat, "Becky, you bimbo! What is it?"
"They're here! They're here! They're her!" Becky exclaimed, punctuating each exclamation with a leap into the air. The poor bikini gave up and let loose it's bouncing cargo. Becky didn't even notice.
"Who, damn it?" Cat demanded. She was getting edgy. She could use a good fuck herself.
"The guys, Mistress Cat! The guy that are gonna fuck us! They're here! They're here!"
Now all the bimbos were squealing and bouncing.
"Quiet!" Mistress Cat roared. "QUIET!!!"
The bimbos fell quiet, lips quivering into instant pouts.
"They're early. The flier said 7:00. They're probably all premature ejaculators."
The bimbos' eyes were pleading.
"But I guess we can start now."
The bimbos cheered and cheered.
"CAT! CAT! CAT! CAT! CAT! CAT! CAT! CAT!" they cried.
Mistress Cat held her hands out and made her way through the crowd and towards the front door.
"Bimbos back!" she commanded and they stepped away from the door.
She opened the door and several dozen randy college boys stared in amazement at Mistress Cat. At least three of them came in their pants just at the site of her tits held out in an elaborate teddy of scarlet lace. She stood there with her half gloved hands on there naked hips, her leather booted feet spread wide. She was the only thing standing between two of the randiest forces in the universe. She felt powerful, in a way she thought the Hoover dam probably felt. Their was money to be made here, though, so she opened for business.
"Welcome, gentlemen. Welcome to Mistress Cat's House of Pussy. Tonight will be a night your cocks will never forget. We're running an opening special: Everyone gets in for $100 each. It'll be more next time, but I guarantee you'll be back."
She grinned her most predatory grin.
"So let's get fucking!" she cried, then welcomed them in. The bimbos squealed. The guys roared. Each guy shoved C-notes or a wad of twenties between Cat's jugs and were immediately grabbed by half a dozen bimbos and dragged to every corner of the house. The bimbos struggled with one another to be the first to get a cock into any available hole. The customers' eyes got huge, unsure about just what they had gotten themselves into, but none of them complained. Since most of them had at least one pointed nipple shoved in their mouth, it wouldn't have done much good anyway.
The actual opening time came and went. Customers with more patience began to show up and the ratio of bimbo to cock became more mane gable. Looking out across the vast orgy, the average was two bimbos to every customer. This worked rather well. There on the floor of the foyer, Becky was straddling a guy that Cat used to date 'before'. She was bouncing along on his shaft, her bubble but slamming against Brooke's face as she sucked on his balls. With some creative twisting, Brooke had also managed to get the guy's big toe in her cunt.
When Mistress Cat turned back to the doorway from admiring her bimbos at work, she found a man in a suit flanked by two campus police officers. The suit Cat recognized as the dean of students, Randall Wallace. He was holding one of the advertisements her bimbos had posted around campus the day before. All three men looked like they were using all their will power to act professional, but it wasn't enough to keep them from gawking at her gazongas. Cat smiled. This would not be a problem.
"Hello, Gentlemen," she said. "Welcome to my House. I'm Mistress Cat."
There was a noticeable pause as the Dean pried his eyes from her cleavage.
"You're the one responsible for these?" he demanded, holding out a flier.
"MmmHmmm," Catherine confessed with a nod.
"I'm very concerned," the dean began.
"Well, If you're very concerned," Catherine interrupted. "I guess you can have a freebie. In fact, I'll do it myself. I could use a shot of man-juice. Girls! I need some help here!"
There in the corner were a group of bimbos licking jism off each other's tits and faces. They immediately came to their Mistress's aid.
"You girls do the nice policemen. I'm going to do the Dean," She looked for another assistant and found Fifi. "Fifi! Give the dean a rim job while I suck his cock!"
"Yes, Mistress Cat!" the bimbo exclaimed, looking up from her pussy.
"That wasn't what I..." protested the dean, but he did nothing to stop her as Catherine squatted and pulled his pants down around his ankles. He already had quite a stiffy. Once his dick was in Catherine's mouth and Fifi's tongue was in his asshole, his concerns seemed to be mollified. Soon Catherine was swallowing spunk and the dean was jibbering.
"Now you just let me know if you have anymore concerns, O.K. sweetums?" she said, tucking his limp cock back into his pants. "Your cock is yummy!"
The dean looked down in a daze. Mistress Cat stuck her huge ass out as ballast for her rack, then stood back up. She then used her massive tits to herd the dean, smiling stupidly, deeper into the house. Discrete video cameras would provide enough blackmail material to keep the Dean's concerns from becoming any of hers.
Mistress Cat had nearly a hundred thousand dollars in cash stuffed between her tits by ten o'clock and guys were still showing up. But Cat was horny. Having one of her bimbos take entrance fees was just asking for fraudulent entry, but fuck it! A few freebies would be worth a good fuck.
"Mony!" she called to the red-haired bimbo who had just finished taking it up the ass by a big black linebacker. "Come watch the door and take the customers' money!"
Mony smoothed down her kilt and came to her Mistress' assistance. Just then to tall, gangly looking young men showed up at the door, cash in their rather large hands. They were identical twins brothers and their feet were also quite large. Mistress Cat grinned. These were hers.
"Hello, boys!" she exclaimed, taking their cash and stuffing it between Mony's freckled tits. "You're with me!"
She took their large hands by the wrists and put one on each tit and one on each ass cheek.
"Oh my god!" said one of the twins.
"Goddess," Cat corrected "You boys ever do the same girl at once?"
"Uh, no ma'am," said one young man.
"Would you like to do me?" she asked. "I'd just looove to fuck two identical cocks at once!"
She wiggled her ass in their hands. The twins giggled nervously and let themselves be lead to the main room.
"Out of my way, bimbos," she demanded, and three bimbos scurried off the couch Cat wanted, revealing one of the police officers that was underneath them. He looked about confused, then one of the bimbos grabbed him and lead him to another corner of the house. Mistress Cat started kneading the twins' crotches within their pants. They were very well endowed!
"Get your pants off, boys! I need you inside me now!"
The twins blushed and stripped. They were long, hard, thick and veiny.
"YES!" Cat exclaimed. "You, lie on the couch!"
The twin she pointed at did as he was his told and his dick pointed skyward. Cat laughed then straddled him, her cunt engulfing his member. He grinned in utter bliss, then his face disappeared between her tits as she fell forward and turned her attention to his brother.
"You! Get that hard pecker in my ass! Fuck me fuck me fuck me!"
The twin did as instructed, aimed his cock at her bunghole as she spread her cheeks and rammed it home. With two long hard cocks in her, Cat was in heaven. She humped and humped, yelling out obscenities. Her bimbos watched in delight, fingering themselves and each other.
Mistress Cat arched her back and reached back to curl her fingers in the curly pubic hair of the twin plumbing her asshole, encouraging him to fuck her harder. His brother stared up at the huge knockers hanging above him as Cat's pussy squeezed and squeezed him.
"Bimbos!" she called. "Suck my titties!"
Eight girls came forward, bared her bosom, and enthusiastically gave her eight hickies on her huge bimbotits. Life was good. The twins started to come at the same instant and filled her cunt and ass with hot sticky spunk. Cat through her head back and roared.
"Dude, it's that crazy slut we was doin'!"
Cat heard a voice that seemed vaguely familiar. She looked about and found Marissa being approached by the same two guys that Catherine had chased away from her roommate a lifetime ago.
"No fuckin' way!" said the other one. Chet, she thought his name was. "That slut's tits weren't no where that big!"
"So she got a boob job, dumb ass!" said Derek.
"Hi!" said Marissa, sticking out her chest. "Wanna play hide the sausage?"
"Dude! I told you it was her!"
Catherine pushed away her bimbos from her tits, then patted her twin studs by way of thank you. She slipped deflating cocks out of her holes and approached her former roommate and her suitors.
"Marissa's really horny," Marissa was explaining. "Nice boys wanna fucky-fucky?"
"Yeah, dude! Let's do it!" said Derek.
"I dunno, man. What if her crazy roommate shows up?" said Chet.
"Oh, I don't think you have to worry about her," said Mistress Cat. "That bitch is gone for good."
Marissa giggled. The boys turned to do a double take at Cat's tits. What little attention they gave to her face wasn't enough for them to recognize her.
"Wow! You're hot!" said Derek. "Do you wanna, like, you know..."
"Maybe later," said Cat. "Right now I wanna watch you two fuck this bimbo-whore from both ends."
"Goodie-goodie!" exclaimed Marissa, and hopped about to jiggle her tits.
Derek and Chet grinned and Cat undid their pants for them. Cat offered Derek's cock to Marissa, who immediately squatted and started slurping at it. She led Chet by his cock to the other side of Marissa and bent to slap her ass until Marissa straightened her knees to present her pussy. Cat threaded Chet's pecker into Marissa's cooze and he proceeded to fuck her.
"Harder, boys, harder!" Mistress Cat prompted. "That ain't no blushing virgin! She's a skanky bimbo slut! Don't be gentle--try to meet in the middle!"
Marissa groaned around Derek's cock as he slammed it down her throat. Chet pistoned like a jack-hammer in her cunt. Cat grinned. It was almost perfect. But not quite.
Cat looked about and found what she needed, retrieved it, and returned to the blonde bimbo being drilled from both ends.
"You're doing good boys, but you're completely neglecting one of her best holes!" Cat told them.
She then took her biggest knobby black dildo and screwed it into Marissa's asshole. Marissa squealed her gratitude. Mistress Cat was glad to help. After all, Marissa was her best friend.
The End
Thanks to Mike for lending me his girlfriend and her sorority sisters. Anybody else out there with candidates for a BimboTech story? Send me a picture, a description, and a wish list and I'll see what I can do. No minors or celebs, please.