“So, like, you need to move,” the Asian bimboslut crossed her arms over her ample chest, and glared at the man keeping her in her specially constructed cell.
Cassie Carnal’s personal bimbo programming had been… different than her Caucasian partner’s. After seeing the way the half-Chinese ex-assassin moved even with her bimbified body, and how a certain lucky handler had taken her down, Fink had asked for some slight alterations to the usual Conversion process. Nothing extreme, per se – more tweaking than a complete rewrite of the usual program. The man did so love a good bimbo, but variation was always welcome – there were plenty of horny, drooling, giggly creatures to choose from, after all.
“Do I?” the handler’s cocksure grin was wide with anticipation and amusement, both at the adorable petulance of the newly converted bimbo and what would soon follow.
“Yeah!” Cassie exclaimed. “I’ve got to, like, bring you to justice for what you’ve done!”
She might have been more intimidating if she hadn’t spoken in a high, bubbly sounding voice, her words straight out of a clichéd anime production. Or if her trim, toned form didn’t have tits just on the edge of disproportionately large. Or if her gleaming black hair, reaching down to just before her shoulders, wasn’t accented with bright pink bangs and coruscant strands of tinsel. Or if her heavily made-up face wasn’t covered in the dried ropes of cum from the last handler to “stand guard” over her.
And, then of course, was the slutty little number she was wearing. It was positively modest by bimbo standards… and extremely slutty by any other. A thin, nearly transparent silk kimono, black in body and pink at collar and end of sleeve barely reached the tops of her thighs – it would flutter upwards at the slightest breeze, and provided neither protection nor modesty to Bimbotech’s latest creation. Beneath it, a skin-tight “ninja” body stocking exposed every curve and luscious detail of her sultry form – especially given how the crotchless clothing exposed her perpetually horny little cunt and teardrop-shaped tits for all the world to see. On her feet, a pair of platform heeled boots made her tight little ass pop, and thrust her thighs forward. Around her neck was locked a tight leather collar, a steel O-ring in the front.
“And what did we do?” the handler asked, his stance completely relaxed. He wasn’t wearing his usual assortment of tools and weapons – he didn’t need them for this encounter. But his enormous, shit-eating grin was fixed on his face – he was looking forward to his first fuck with the woman who had put him into the hospital.
"You… you turn good girls into bimbos!” Cassie exclaimed, her dramatic point causing her pliant tits to jiggle enticingly. “Horny, dirty little bimbos,” she continued, as her other hand slid towards her tight slit. “Whose only job it is to fuck, and suck and whose place is on their knees….”
She moaned, as she penetrated herself with index and middle finger, twisting them within her, as her other digits rubbed and stroked at the exterior of her perfect, delicate labia. She pushed her fingers into her soaking cunt, pumped them swiftly, and her breath caught as she described the horrible, terrible things that Bimbotech did to those it caught.
But she didn’t cum. Because she was a Bimbotech girl, and she hadn’t been told to. She was so hot, so close, and even as she decried the degradation she and so many others had received, she was as much a slave to her programming as any other Bimbotech girl.
She would not admit it, but she knew, deep down, that her place was on her knees.
“…and that’s wrong!” she finished, even as she withdrew her hands from her steaming snatch, and carefully licked her own juices away, strands of saliva and arousal mixing between her slender digits. “Now get out of my way!”The handler smiled.
“Make me.”
“Alright,” she warned. “You asked for it!”
Cassie Carnal lunged at the man, her arms outstretched in a wild and clumsy strike – it was slow, and poorly aimed, and even if it had landed, she would have simply collided with the other man to no effect. There was a part of her that knew this; a part of her muscle memory which still retained all the techniques she had learned from her infancy, and all the ways to make a man scream in pain. She could have subdued the handler easily… but she didn’t want to. It was right for her to be this way. It was right for her to be so easy. It was right that she be defeated by any man or woman who she dared “fight.”
The handler knew all of this, and easily dodged the pitiful strike. He drew from his specially modified belt a braided leather riding crop, and whipped it through the air, smacking against her firm, cloth-covered rear with a meaty thumpCassie’s body rippled with pleasure, and she instinctively dropped to her hands and knees at the blow, eager to receive more and more of the delicious, painful ecstasy her Master – for she knew that all men were her Masters – had given her. But she didn’t beg for it.
At least, she didn’t explicitly beg for it.
“Is… oh yes… is that all you got?” she panted, even as large portions of her mind begged and pleaded for her to submit, to admit defeat, and receive her sweet sweet surrender. But she had been programmed with a will just enough to put up a token resistance, just strong enough to resist an instant compliance. At least, provided her Master was into that.
“You’re a naughty little slut, aren’t you,” the handler jeered, his free hand grabbing at the crotch of his pants. “Eager little cunt who can’t wait for a hard cock to fill her.”
Her eyes were lidded, pale purple mascara dancing across the lids as she unconsciously thrust her ass higher into the air. But a spark of… not defiance, but something as close to it as she was permitted, still burned within her.
“I’m not a slut,” Cassie proudly proclaimed, and shakily got to her feet. “I’m a Bimbo!”
She moved as if to tackle him, telegraphing the motion. He caught her easily, his free hand catching both her wrists, and she went limp, pressing himself wantonly against his body.
“You’re my bimbo,” he whispered, and any trace of resistance vanished at his commanding tone. From his belt, he grabbed the pair of leather-wrapped handcuffs from their holster, and placed them around her wrists. “Aren’t you?”
He released her bound wrists and the compliant, submissive little bimbo immediately dropped to her knees, her cuffed hands crossed behind her back without needing to be told.
“Yes, sir,” she said, her eyes fixed upon the bulge of his crotch. “Please, sir. I’ve been such a naughty little bimboslut. Please, punish me, sir. Let your horny little bimbo serve you.
She nuzzled the handler’s cloth-covered erection as if it were the most dear thing in the world to her. It was the most dear thing in the world to her. She was where she belonged, doing what she was meant to do, and there was no greater possible pleasure for the Asian bimbo than to serve her purpose.
The handler grinned cruelly downwards.“I don’t know, slut,” he said, and pulled at her hair, the spike of pain only sending her into further convulsions of ecstasy. “Show me that you’re worthy of it.”
“Yes, sir.” Cassie bowed her head obediently, and pressed a kiss to the tip of her Master’s covered length. Her dark eyes stared briefly upwards, seeking his out, silently begging for his approval. At his own, unspoken assent, she extended her tongue, and with a deft swipe of her lithe pink tongue, parted the cover of the man’s fly. She leaned into him, shuffling forward on both knees, and rubbing her cheek against his length as her lips parted. The Asian bimbo gently grasped hold of his zipper between perfect white teeth, and gently drew it down, and let the object of her submission spring free.
Cassie had kept much of finely honed balance and grace after Body Modification; she was still as dexterous as any athlete, as limber as any gymnast. But these traits had been honed, modified, and redirected – no longer in the pursuit of martial prowess, but in the art of male pleasure.
She worshipped him, soft mewling sounds escaping from pouty lips all the while. The bimbo’s willing, quick little tongue lapped across every wrinkle and fold of his sack, and the handler hissed in pleasure.“More,” he told her through gritted teeth.
“Move, you stupid little whore!”He reached down, and seized Cassie by the ears, the masochistic bimbo gasping in perverted pleasure at the rough treatment, and brought her lips to his length. She attacked his tip with feverish zeal, plump lips slick with saliva engulfing the head in wet heat. She hollowed out her cheeks, and thrust herself upon the shaft, eager to gobble and suck her way down to the very base. The white, whorish makeup on her face began to run as she started to choke, tears smearing her mascara and leaving streaks, but her pain was as sweet to her as pleasure, for it was in service to her betters.
Finally, the tip of her nose pressed against his base, and she wrapped her tongue around and around, swirling it across his cock until she felt the corners of her vision start to darken. She flung herself backwards, chocking and sputtering the whole while, but when her mouth was free and clear, ropes of spit and droll splattering across her mouth and chin and dripping upon her rack, she was smiling.
“More, sir?” her voice was quiet, even as she looked upward at him with adoring, submissive eyes. “I can-”
“You think you’ve earned my cum, slut?” he snarled at her, looming over the submissive bimbo like an angry god. “After what you did to me?”
“No, sir!” she cried out, curled herself into a submissive little ball. He could see her wetness coating her inner thighs, soaking her nether lips as she instinctively rubbed them together. “Please, punish me more sir!”
He eyed her like she was nothing so much as a piece of meat, a tool, an object for his own gratification, and she whimpered so very prettily as he ran his hand up her stockinged thigh.
“Oh, you bet your ass I will.”He slapped her rounded posterior to emphasize his words, and she cried out at his strength, her flesh shuddering before his palm. Grabbing the bimbo by her hair once more, he dragged her to the specially prepared bondage bed in the center of her cell, and tossed her upon it. She lay there, silent and still, ass raised and ready for him, as he gathered her to his lap, erect cock nestled under her breasts, like a disobedient child.
“You think you can fuck me up, hero?” he snarled, face contorted in fury at his earlier humiliation by her hands. “You think you’re better than me?”
“No, sir!” she weeped. “You’re better than me, sir. I’m such a naughty slut, sir. Punish me, sir, please punish –” her voice abruptly transitioned into howls of masochistic delight, as he took his hand to her, again and again, spanking her ass with the palm of his hand with savage fury. A more disciplined dom would have had the bimbo count out her strikes – but he was after pain, measure for measure, and he simply focused on the sight of her cheeks as they rippled and blossomed red in his wake. He beat her ass, again and again, as Cassie wept and wriggled and cried more sir, punish me more. He grabbed her reddened cheeks and twisted, and she sobbed so beautifully.
He prodded roughly at her snatch, and found her cleft soaked. He touched her gently now, and found a trail of wetness down to the tops of her thigh-high stockings.
“What’s this?” he asked, as if in shock. “You enjoyed your punishment, you perverted little bimbo, didn’t you?”
“Please,” she begged him. “Please let your bimbo cum, sir.”He curled his fingers upwards, and swung his hand once more, smacking into her nub, and watched as she gushed her honey cream and wailed her climax, thrashing on his lap like the wild, fuckhungry animal she had become.
He spun her around, and pointed her seam straight at his rod.“We aren’t finished yet, slut,” he told her, as he finally thrust himself into her all-too willing holes. “You’ve got a lot to make up for.”