BimboTech: Going Down

posted in: Mind Control, Stories | 0

Mind Control

By The Sympathetic Devil

“What floor, Miss?” Jimmy asked, although it was
obvious. Any conservatively dressed woman looking
that angry could only be headed one place.

“32nd,” she said tersely, “Bimbotech.”

“Right away, Miss,” said Jimmy pushing the appropriate
button and discretely checking out his passenger: A
bit on the skinny side with short brown hair. She was
dressed in a business suit and carrying a briefcase.

“You don’t work for them, do you?” she asked.

“No, Ma’am. I work for the building,” he answered,
“All the businesses between the 3rd floor and the
penthouse lease.”

“Do you know exactly what it is they do up there?” she
asked.

“Well, near as I can tell, they’re involved in some
kind of plastic surgery or sumpin’ like that. I don’t
get paid to ask questions.”

“Hmmph!” she declared, Well I sure as hell have some
questions. The first of which is who the hell put
these damn fliers on the bulletin boards of my office!”

The flier she held was one Jimmy had seen before.
“BIMBOTECH” it read in big hot pink letters over the
kneeling silhouette of a babe with huge knockers.
Underneath was the company logo: ‘A Woman’s Place is
on Her Knees’ along with their address there on the
32nd floor.

“I can see how you might find that offensive, Miss,”
Jimmy conceded.

“Might? My God, anyone who wasn’t a complete
Neanderthal would find it offensive!” she declared.
“They have no right! No right at all! And I’m not
going to stand for it! I’m not leaving until I speak
to the president of the company and tell him exactly
what I think of his disgusting advertising campaign!”

“Well Miss, I do hope you are able to get satisfaction
Jimmy declared as the elevator came to a halt.

“32nd floor–Bimbotech Incorporated,” he announced.

The woman shook her head and exited the elevator.

“Don’t worry about a tip. You can get me on the way
down.” he called out as the closing doors occluded his
view of her scrawny backside.

Jimmy checked his watch as he took the elevator down.
9:15. It usually took about 3 hours so she would be
coming down just after his lunch break. Perfect.

There was no telling how many disgruntled women would
be here to complain today; The numbers kept growing
and at 67 Jimmy was too old to deal with them all. But
one a day was certainly doable and first up was
usually first down. Yes, a quarter after twelve would work
just fine.

Sure enough, at 12:17 the bell rang. Someone on the
32nd floor was ready to go down.

Jimmy grinned at the woman as the doors opened. It
was the first one from this morning, though he
wouldn’t have known it if he hadn’t been expecting
her. When Bimbotech first leased the 32nd floor,
Jimmy had failed to make the connection for several
days. He had found it odd that so many hot women were
coming down from the 32nd floor when he never seemed
to take them up. It couldn’t have been that he just
hadn’t noticed them–these were not the sort of women
you failed to notice! So Jimmy started making note
of certain facial features and soon he was able to
tell that the pissed off women going up were the same
individuals as the much nicer women going down.

Take this one, for instance. Her facial features were
pretty much unchanged. Well, at least not surgically,
if what they did on the 32nd floor could be called surgery.

The face was different, though. Where on the way up
it had been the face of a woman who was mad as hell,
now it wore an expression of contentment. Clearly,
she was in a much better mood. Also, she had had her
make up redone, her lips, eyelids, and fingernails all
painted a bright happy blue which matched her new
attitude as well as her new outfit.

The business suit had been discarded, of course. It
never would have fit over those huge luscious melons.
The blue spandex halter top she wore now managed the
job, though, with quite a bit of stretching. The
matching miniskirt did the same with her padded and
molded fanny. Blue stockings hung from garters and
stretched along her molded legs to her delicate feet
which were bound by the straps of her six inch
platform heels.

Her hair was now long, wild, and platinum blonde and
one of her fingers was twirled in it. She wore big
dangly earrings of cheap blue plastic. Instead of the
brief case, she carried a stack of fliers like the one
she came in with.

The woman’s voice had changed as well.

“Hi! I’m Trixi!” she exclaimed in a high, excited
voice without even a hint of intelligence.

“Hello, Trixi,” said Jimmy, “Do you want to get on the
elevator?”

Trixi thought about that for a while.

“OK!” she decided and giggled.

Jimmy held a hand out for her and guided her in. It
was a wonder she didn’t topple with all that weight up
top and the towering heels. The helium in her head
probably helped.

“So, Trixi, were the folks at Bimbotech able to answer
all of your questions?”

“Oh yeah! They are, like, so nice! I just love all
of them to death! <giggle>”

“Yes, I find that most women like them once they get
to know them,” Jimmy observed.

“Yeah, <giggle> they, like, gave me a free tour and,
like, free samples of _everything!_ <giggle>. I took
two of some!”

“Yes, they’re certainly very generous,” Jimmy said.

“Oh yeah!”

“And were you able to meet their president?”

“Ohmygod! Yes! He, like, took me in his office and
his cock is, like, so big! I took one look at it and I like
completely forgot why I wanted to see him <giggle>!”

“Yes, that’s been known to happen. I’m glad you were
able to resolve your differences. What floor would
you like?”

“Huh?” Trixi asked, confused.

“What number do you want to go to?” he asked, pointing
to the elevator buttons.

Trixi stared in bewilderment at the numbers, then
blinked and giggled.

“Math is tough!” she exclaimed.

“Yes, some people do find numbers to be difficult,”
Jimmy agreed. “So, do you want to go up or down?”

“Trixi likes to go down!” the blonde bimbo exclaimed.

“I bet she does!” Jimmy replied. He closed the doors,
hit the emergency stop, and opened a small compartment
where he kept a small pillow. The women didn’t need
it but it seemed a shame to ruin their brand new
stockings.

“All right, Trixi,” he said, dropping the pillow on
the floor. “Be a good little bimboslut and make Jimmy
happy.

“<giggle> Like, A woman’s place is on her knees!”
Trixi cheerfully quoted and ungracefully fell to her
knees, causing her huge melons to bounce and jiggle.

The bimbo undid Jimmy’s fly like it was the prettiest
present on Christmas morning and squealed with
delight when she found his wrinkled package wreathed
in gray pubic hair.

“You like cock, don’t you Trixi?” Jimmy asked.

MmHmm!” the bimbo nodded emphatically, teasing his
unit free of his underwear. “Trixi loves cock! Trixi
is a cock-sucking, cum-drinking bimbo! <giggle!>”

So saying, she proceeded to lavish Jimmy’s member with
affection, kissing, licking, stroking, and kneading
until he was as hard as he used to get back when he
was twenty.

“That’s right, you skanky little whore. Worship it,”
Jimmy instructed. “That’s the only thing you’re good
for–servicing men’s cocks and being a receptacle for
spunk!”

MmHmm!” Trixi agreed enthusiastically, then giggled,
opened wide, and deep throated his hard member with a
grunt of satisfaction. Jimmy had learned early on
that the girls from Bimbotech got more excited about
their slutty behavior the more he degraded them.

“Oh yeah, that’s the way you nymphoid bitch!” he said,
grabbing hold of her platinum hair and shoving himself
down her welcoming throat. The girls from Bimbotech
never gagged.

UnngEeeghEeegh!” Trixi exclaimed around his cock as
her eyes rolled back in her head and her whole body
quivered. The bimbo was cuming, getting off on just
having his cock down her throat while he called her a
slut.

“All right then, bimbo,” he said, pushing her head
back a bit so the tip of his cock rested on her
tongue, which swirled around it adoringly. “I’m about
there, slut, and I want you to taste it. You wanna
taste it before you swallow it, right Trixi?”

MmHmm!” the bimbo exclaimed with wide-eyed joy.

“I thought so, you skanky little cum bucket,” Jimmy
said.

Trixi’s blue-nailed fingers wrapped around his shaft
and stroked his balls as her tongue worked it’s magic
on the underside of his cockhead. Her eyes were
eager, hungry.

She was not to be disappointed. With a grunt and a
groan, Jimmy unloaded a big bolus of spunk into her
mouth. Trixi squealed and swallowed.

“Mmmmmmm Yummy!” she exclaimed, smacking her lips and
working her tongue to get droplets on the roof of her
mouth and her back teeth.

Jimmy’s cock continued to drizzle jism so he wiped it
off in the deep furrow between Trixi’s big round
titties. The bimbo giggled a lot at that.

“Up you go, bimbo,” Jimmy said, helping her to her
feet.

“But a woman’s place is on her knees!” Trixi
complained, looking longingly at his crotch as he
tucked himself back in and then hit the button to take
them to the lobby.

“Stupid bimbo!” Jimmy declared, “If I let every nympho
I brought down from the 32nd floor stay here
worshiping my cock, the elevator would have filled up
weeks ago! You just head out into the world. I’m sure
you’ll find other cocks to suck.”

Trixi brightened at that.

“Trixi is such a slut!” she declared.

“You said it,” Jimmy agreed. “Don’t forget your
fliers.”

She had left the stack of advertisements on the floor
while she was doing such nice things to his cock.

“Oops!” she declared and bent over to pick them up,
causing her skirt to ride up and show her cooze.
Jimmy reached out and stroked her undercarriage and the
bimboslut squealed with delight and wiggled her ass.
He slapped it and she stood of quick, setting her
boobs to jiggling.

“What are you going to do with your fliers?” Jimmy
asked.

“Huh? Oh yeah! Like, I’m supposed to put ’em up so
that other girls can be happy stupid bimbo sluts like
me! I think I’m going to put some up at church. The
ladies there just don’t fuck enough at all. I think
that’s sad.”

“That’s a great idea, Trixi,” Jimmy said, “First
floor, every bimbo out of the elevator.”

Jimmy slapped her ass and propelled her out of the
elevator. Giggling and jiggling, she went in search of
cock.

Three granola-looking college girls were waiting for
the elevator. They were all wearing bulky sweatshirts
and blue jeans. They stared in amazed disgust as Trixi
walked by, then got in the elevator.

“Oh my God!” said the Asian one, “How can she even
walk!”

“I have no idea,” said the one with the stringy blonde
hair.

“It’s disgusting!” said the chunky redhead.

“What floor would you ladies like?” Jimmy asked,
reminding them that they were waiting for the
elevator. He knew, of course. The blonde was holding
a crumpled flier.

“32nd,” the redhead told him as they got on.

“Bimbotech Incorporated, right away,” said Jimmy,
pushing the appropriate buttons to bring the latest
batch of ‘befores’ to the 32nd floor.

“That’s where she came from, isn’t it,” the Asian
woman asked, indicating the closed doors that Trixi
had just exited.

“Well, I guess that’s not much of a secret,” Jimmy
said.

“What exactly do they do there?” she asked.

“Plastic surgery, among other things, as far as I can
tell. I’m just an elevator operator. I don’t get
paid to ask questions.”

“Well we sure as hell are going to ask some
questions!” the blonde declared, “And demand some
answers! I can’t believe they would advertise at the
Women’s Studies Center! It still just burns me up!”

“Well, as far as I can tell, all their clients are
women,” Jimmy told them helpfully.

All three women glared daggers at him. He smiled
sheepishly and chuckled. They rode the rest of the
way in frosty silence.

“32nd floor–Bimbotech Incorporated,” he announced.
Opening the door, the three students marched out, a
look of determination on their faces.

Jimmy closed the doors and headed down. The three of
them would be done by 4:00. He’d been trying to limit
himself to one a day, but….

Oh what the hell. He’d never had 3 at once. Maybe he
should just leave work early and take them home with
him. People could push their own buttons.

Well, the bimbo’s couldn’t, at least not with any
accuracy. Without an elevator operator, they tended
to wander throughout the building. But it would be
close to quiting time, so there should be plenty of
men willing to help them out. And if any of the women
were upset by the distractions the bimbos caused, they
could always go up to the 32nd floor and complain.

Ah, this job was going to be the death of him. But he
was bound to die happy!

The End

The Sympathetic Devil
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