From Scientist to Bimbo

Candi came with them of course, her orgasms piling on top of each other, doubling just as theirs doubled on top of her. She was so happy to be bathed in the hot cum of these studs, just like a hot bimbo babe. Hot goo ran down her face, all over her forehead, her lips, her throat. She slid it up with a long finger and sucked it down.

They leaned down on top of her, breathing hard.

"That was...that was really something," said Gelled Hair. "What's your name?"

"Candi!" she giggled.

"Candi," said Shorter Guy. "Well. We definitely owe you a drink."

She giggled again. "You two just gave me a very good drink..." she looked up at both of them. "D'you think you can give me another?"

They didn't think they could. But she was already stroking their cocks intently, and she certainly wasn't going to take no for an answer.

* * * * *

Candice woke up in the backseat of her car in a daze, her pussy warm and a little sore. Her car was a small sedan, light green in color. There was a tapping on her window.

She sat up straight. It was a police officer. He had a thin mustache and bronze skin. From inside the car, he looked tall and broad, the kind of frame that made a man look important.

"Please step out of the car, ma'am."

"Oh god!" she said, trying to cover herself up.

Where were the rest of her clothes? Why was her incredibly expensive silk dress torn to shreds? She had worn this dress last year to the Alumni Ball at the university, and had blown an entire paycheck on it. Ryan had made love to her while she wore it. It was special. Now it was ruined.

The cop tapped on the glass insistently. She got up and stepped out, the sunlight hurting her eyes. The car was off the side of the highway. A few cars rolled by. It was nearing dawn, and Candice had no idea where she had been.

Oh good, she thought sarcastically.

Hands on his hips, the cop looked down at her. "Do you know where you are, ma'am?"

She shook her head, and then closed her eyes for a second. "No. I mean, yes. I'm on the highway. I know how to get home from here."

"Do you know where you've been tonight, ma'am?"

She shook her head no.

"I...I don't. I don't know what happened. Last thing I remember, I was in my lab, I think? And then..."

She was in her lab, performing an experiment to make herself hotter and hotter for the love of her life. Had it...had it actually worked? She thought she could remember something later...going home to see Ryan? Was that right?

The cop put his hands on his hips. "You ought to be more careful, ma'am. I appreciate that you weren't trying to drive around in the state you were obviously in, but you still drove this far. If I took your BAC, I don't think either of us would be happy with the results."

Candice had no idea one way or the other as to the truth of that.

She shook her head. "No, sir. Please. I'll be more careful. I'm just," she put a hand to her head. "I'm just really confused right now is all."

"Do you remember anyone giving you any drinks? Taking any pills?"

She could sense something from the cop--interest that was a little more than just dutiful. She was...she was practically naked, she realized. Her body was still somewhat toned, her breasts, while not large, were certainly larger than they had been last time she checked. Were the effects of the serum lingering? Were they somehow permanent?

The cop's eyes flickered up and down her body. That was...exciting, a man's gaze on her like that. The thought that she could encourage him to look at her. That she could encourage him to do anything. Breathing hard and shuddering, she fell forward, pushing her face into his shoulder and starting to sob. His body was firm and muscular.

"I don't know! I don't know anything and I'm so scared and I don't know what happened and it was so terrible and I'm sore and wet and I just want to go home! Oh please! Please let me go home!"

She continued sobbing then, and the cop's hand came around her back, patting her lightly.

"There, there," he said, holding her awkwardly.

His hands were firm, and they dug into the naked part of her skin somewhat. She liked that. What was wrong with her that she liked that, a total stranger's hands on her body?

A car whizzed by. The cop seemed to notice what this was looking like, and held her at arm's length by her naked shoulders.

"You gotta drive on home now, okay? You just go on home and don't look back. Get some rest, and I'm sure this will all work out. If it doesn't, if you remember something, you come see me at the station." He handed her a card with his name and phone number on it. "My name is Alvarez. That's who you ask for, you ask for Alvarez. All right?"

"Okay. Thank you, Officer. You've been...you've been very kind."

She started to move back inside of her car. He put a hand on her shoulder.

"If I wanted to come and check up on you..." he started. "Well, where would I look?"

"I'm a...I'm a professor at the university. My name is Candice Dearing."

"Candice. It's nice to meet you. I'm Jorge."

She smiled and got into the car, a little too embarrassed to keep going with her flirting. When was the last time she had flirted with anyone? And now with a police officer? Oh god.

As she started the drive home, she tried to retrace her steps.

God, what had happened? What did she do? Who did she hurt?

She felt sure that she had hurt someone. That she had fucked someone so hard and so long that they would have had to have been taken to the hospital. Was that right? Was that even possible?

Ryan. Had she hurt Ryan? Oh please, no. Her cellphone was nowhere to be found, and so she couldn't check in with him like that. She was certain that if she had gone to see him, that he was just full of questions.

She had gone to see him, she was certain of it now. She had called herself Candi, that was right. She had called herself Candi and pretended to be his little Lab Assistant.

Fuck, that was sort of hot. As she stopped at a red light, her fingers slipped down in between her thighs. Ryan's happy, hot little lab assistant, needing him to stuff her full of his cock...

No. No no no. She needed to be in control. The stoplight turned green, and she kept moving.

She was never taking the serum again, she decided. Never, ever again. It was too dangerous. There were benefits, of course, but no, it was just too insane and risky to go blacking out everywhere.

It all felt so goddamn good being in that mode, though. That bimbo mode.

Candice's parents had a yard that she used to work in, pulling weeds and mowing and the like. She would get covered in bug bites and scratches, but at the end of the day, when she sprayed hot water on her body, it felt eminently good. That hot, rushing sensation flowing over those little annoyances, drowning them out completely.

That was how her entire brain felt, all the time, when she was under the influence of the serum she had created.

She desperately wanted to meet with Ryan when she finally arrived home, but when she got back up to their apartment, he was nowhere to be found. Instead, he left a note:

Last night was crazy amazing. Even so, I'm a little concerned, want to talk. Please make time for tonight?

It was a reasonable note, driven by compassion and concern. It should have touched Candice's heart. Instead, it made her slightly annoyed, and she couldn't think of why.

She took a quick shower and put on a change of clothes--finding her usual pants much, much looser than normal. There was just less of all of her, it seemed, which she was rather welcoming of. She didn't have any bras that fit her, and she made a quick mental note to buy one or two on her way home. Maybe even a sexy one to help assuage Ryan's concerns.

That instant decision--to use her new looks as a way to get what she wanted from a man, barely registered with her. She just thought it completely natural.

Candice hardly ever did her make-up--only really for special occasions--and so was surprised to find her cheeks already somewhat naturally rosy, her lips slightly pink and glossy. That was...that was a bit odd. She was rather put off by her lips, especially, and so put on some darker lipstick over it to cover up the gloss.

She was a professor, after all. She could hardly have glossy lips as she worked.

Part II: Knowledge Is Like, Power?

It was eight in the morning when she made it back to the university. There were plenty of parking spots--most of the school had not woken up yet. It was deep enough into the fall semester that all the students who had decided to sleep in instead of going to class were getting ready to apply for their Withdrawals.

The university had a large campus, very spread-out, and so even though it had a student population of over fifteen thousand, it never seemed very crowded. The Science Building, where Candice worked, was squat and shiny, its surfaces chrome and stainless steel. She was sure someone thought it looked very futuristic when they built it in the early nineties. Now, it was a sort of an eyesore, but that was all right.

There were several uniformed police officers outside the building.

For several moments, she looked for Officer Alvarez. He was cute. But, no sign of him.

She stopped in with Martha, the receptionist who essentially ran the entire building. She was pushing sixty, her dark hair tinged with gray. She wore wire-rimmed glasses with a chain, and always had on bright sweaters. Today's sweater was yellow, with a happy pink bumblebee floating along her torso.

"What's this all about?" Candice asked, pointing toward a random police officer.

Martha put her hands to her chest, crushing the bee. "Oh dear, you haven't heard? It's Larry."

"Larry? My Larry?"

Larry was her lab assistant. He was great at his job. And...there was something pulling at her mind when she thought about him...

"He was found just outside your lab last night. They think maybe he tried to stop a robber. He was exhausted--completely exhausted, they said. He was having trouble breathing. The strength just sucked out of him, somehow. He should be okay in a few weeks."

"A...a robber?"

"The door was broken, you see. But they don't know for sure. He didn't remember a thing, poor dear."

Candice thanked Martha and walked up toward her lab in a haze. Larry, fighting a robber? That didn't seem to make any sense. He was an affable, friendly guy. She liked his beard, and always was making comments on how it was growing out too long, or had gotten too short, and so on. They had a nice, friendly business relationship.

She entered the elevator, still thinking. She had...seen Larry last night! She remembered now. She had been in the lab, and Larry came in...

And...and she had fucked him nearly to death. Oh god. She remembered now. She had sucked his cock again and again and again, needing more and more of it until....until...

Until, well, he had been drained dry and she put him in the hospital.

Her pussy was suddenly, instantly, hot and wet.

Fuck. Why was she so inexplicably turned on by that? She wanted to take a trip to the ladies' room and finger her hot cunt silly until she stopped thinking about fucking men until they couldn't walk.

Instead, the elevator dinged and opened and she saw the chair of the science department down the hall, Randall Wright. Randall was bald and heavy-set, always with something critical to say. Too often, he tried to butt into Candice's research and tried to take credit for her accomplishments. Candice resented him for it, but also had to live with his domineering personality.

He was talking to an enormous hunk of a man whose back was to Candice. They were right in front of the sealed entrance to the labs, inside of which was Candice's own lab. Before the big man turned around turned around, Candice had gotten the impression he was just one more fat cat--emphasis on fat. But as he rotated, she saw that his hands had been positioned inside of his suit pockets, making him appear portly, when nothing could have been further from the truth.

He was--up, down, all around--a complete hunk. He was...godly. Enormous. He had the type of build that should have been reserved for bodybuilders or professional wrestlers or superheroes. His jawline was coated with a sexy brown beard with just the right amount of hair, accentuating the natural strong shape of his mouth and chin. His eyes were deep, strong brown, his hair a thick short tangle of also brown. He was tall--nearly seven foot--and must have easily weighed three hundred pounds of solid muscle.

All that Candice could think about, and all that she imagined most women could think about in his presence, was raw, hard, inhumane fucking until she didn't even know what reality was anymore.

Candice had to hold in her obvious arousal. The musk coming off the man. It was like pure, unrestrained masculinity. She wanted to fall to her knees and adore the sure-to-be thick shaft of his cock for days on end. They both smiled when they saw Candice approaching.

Wright held out a hand, guiding the large man to Candice.

"This is Candice Dearing, that rising star I told you about. Candice, this is Warren Richter, who is our newest donor."

Ah, this was Richter! He was not only the newest donor, he was actually the most substantial one by a margin of over some eighty percent. He was the reason for their high-definition telescopes, 3D holographic actualizers, and multi-arrayed analysis consoles, not to mention a plethora of other incredibly expensive equipment.

"Ah, Wright here told me he had a sharp young thing in charge of product development," he said. "That must be you."

He held out an enormous hand. It was easily twice the size of Candice's.

"A pleasure to meet you," she said, her voice breathy. "I had no idea we had such an enormous donor."

Was she...flirting with him? That wasn't like her at all.

Taking experimental serums to make her into a hotter version of herself wasn't like her at all, either, she supposed.

A gorgeous young woman with shiny dark hair gathered up in a bun arrived behind Richter. She wore a tight, short-skirted suit. Her legs poured out of the skirt, glossy and tanned. Everything about her was chiseled and phenomenal. Candice felt lesser in front of her, and got the idea she was supposed to.

"This is my assistant, Theresa. Theresa, this is Candice."

"Hello," Theresa said coolly, writing something down on the tablet she held in her hands.

She barely registered Candice. Candice, in front of Theresa, felt...well, ugly. Even with her recent improvements, Theresa far outperformed everything Candice had worked to attain.

It was a disheartening thought. And yet, and she couldn't shake the idea that taking a bit more of the serum--which she had sworn to never do again this morning--might be able to fix the disparity between them.

"I think we're good, Randall," the hunk billionaire said. "Why don't you run along now and do...whatever it is you do."

Without saying another word, Randall hopped off to obey, as if in this billionaire's presence, even normally alpha-esque men became beta and submissive, happy to obey to avoid a fight. Candice fought the urge to bite her lip in open arousal.

Richter turned to the beautiful assistant at his side. "Why don't you examine the facilities and make sure none of our equipment was broken with last night's incident, yes? A full inventory."

Theresa approached the door of the lab. It was protected with a retinal scanner and an encrypted keypad.

Candice stuttered out a protest. "I'm sorry, sir, she really can't--"

Theresa leaned in, pressing numbers into the keypad. The door slid open with a happy chime.

Richter smiled. "Oh, yes, she can. You see, she can do whatever she wants in here. Because I say so. That's how this works, doll. I'll let your little protest slide, since we're so new at being around each other, but I've put a lot of money into this place, and I'll make sure that everything here happens how I want."

He was just brimming with machismo. Candice resisted the urge to swoon. It went against absolutely everything she stood for that she found him so attractive. He was snobbish, brash, arrogant, and probably lifted weights as heavy as her in his off-time when he wasn't fucking the life out of some lucky starlet that he absconded with in the middle of the Andes and ohgodshewantedhiscocksobad...

Fuck.

Get a a hold of yourself, girl. He's just a man.

Just a really handsome man who loves hot babes, the kind of which you've found a formula to turn yourself into whenever you want. That's all.

Just a thought, Candice--you could be like his totally hot happy little bimbo babe. The kind of girl he super really likes to have. Couldn't you? Wouldn't that be nice? To let go of all that control and let him be in charge of that nuclear hotspot of sex-starving frenzy you call a pussy? Like, wouldn't that be super cool?

She shook her head, not knowing where that silly sweet voice in her head had come from.

"I see," said Candice, gathering her thoughts. "I just...I would like to be informed of all changes to the admittance list."

He put a large hand against the wall. His muscles stretched against the confines of his suit. His chest was a slab of solid, rock hard flesh.

"To be honest, when I put the money into this facility, I was hoping for someone with a little less...weight to throw around to challenge me. I suggest you check your tone and your attitude. And maybe a few other things about yourself."

That was a dig at her figure, and an obvious one. She tried to ignore it...and tried to ignore her instinct to cry at not measuring up to his obviously superhuman standards.

Gathering her composure, she blurted out, "Yes, well, we'll both have to see what we can do to work together, won't we?"

She stepped inside the lab then. Richter stayed outside, taking off to the elevator. Theresa stepped from one workstation to another, making notes on her tablet. Her face, beautiful and sculpted, as tight with concentration.

"Do you need any help finding anything?"

"No."

"I'm Candice." She held out a hand. "We didn't really meet before."

"No," said Theresa. "We did not."

She ignored Candice's hand and continued to make small scribbles on the tablet, her every movement punctuated by the click of her tall, expensive heels of her calf-leather pumps. Candice swallowed her irritation and put her hand down.

Stepping over the broken remains of the door to her lab, she sat down at her desk. In front of her, in a small storage unit, were the rest of the flasks of the serum. It was, she knew, a bad idea to have them so very close to her.

And yet...was it such a bad idea? They had hurt her. Spurned her. Scorned her.

No use for all those nasty thoughts. Replace them with something fun!

She didn't care, much, where that echoing, silly girl voice originated from. It was completely right.

Weight to throw around, huh Mr. Richter?

She picked up a flask and a measuring spoon, making sure that Theresa couldn't see what she was doing.

Just a few drops, that was all. She had sworn off blacking out. That didn't mean she couldn't still take some now and then. Just two would do it, she thought. They glistened in the metal spoon.

Well, three to make sure. The small grouping grew to a puddle.

Four drops--now that, four, that would really take care of some good weight loss. That was a nice round number.

It would make her feel so very nice. A tea--no a tablespoon. Yes. She had a boyfriend with a big fat cock to please, after all.

Bubblegum flavors filling her mouth, she slurped down the tablespoon. And then one more, right after that, just in case.