Becoming the Build-your-own Bimbo

Grunting, cock making a wonderful squelching sound as it thundered between the slick, puffy folds of the blonde woman's soaked, dripping pussy, he allowed himself to ejaculate before extracting himself from her, abandoning her on the couch, where she quickly replaced his manhood with her hand, curving her fingers up into her pussy and rubbing herself through several more squirting, jerking orgasms throughout the next ten or so minutes.

Panting, not bothering to put on any clothes, Charlie Vaughn set his coffee maker to work even as his half-erect member softened between his legs, a few post-ejaculate droplets of his cum surging gently but enjoyably forward and tumbling to the marble tile floor. As he waited, a second woman--this one slightly slimmer than the blonde on the couch, but equally as over-sized, her generous breasts bouncing about beneath a star wars t-shirt, her black hair tied up into two high pony-tails that were perfect for pulling on if ever one was fucking her in the mouth--wandered out from the corridor, instantly seeing the blonde on the couch and getting excited. At a word from Charlie, she quickly fell to her knees before him, and he allowed her to suck him clean until his coffee was done before he sent her off to fuck the blonde for a few hours, his salty excretions still clinging to her lips even as she pressed them into the blonde woman's.

Vaughn closed the door to his office and fell into his chair, flicking his computer on. As he sipped his coffee, he read through his notes. Pulling up blood samples, first from his lab tests, then from his girls, he read; Paris, his first conquest, the black-haired woman; Claire, his second and largest girl, the blonde; and Ella, his third and most recent subject, a perky, flame-headed Irish woman who had grown to be perhaps his favourite of them all, having transformed from a very tomboy-ish, near-flat figure to a full, tight, shapely bitch, and whose intelligence had dulled enough to make her stupid and sex-craved, yet had retained enough cognizance to still form coherent sentences, something that his previous two had not faired so well with. Last of all in his notes, he pulled up one final, lonely file. It was the only one taken on a male. Frowning and fisting his chin in consideration, he mused at length over the data before him, even as the dulled screams of women squirting in orgasm echoed to him from the living room up the hallway.

He considered the positives. He pondered the negatives. He tossed and tossed it all in his mind, doing his best to ignore the party outside as Ella now joined the others, losing himself in intense consideration. Eventually, he jerked himself upright, stood, stretched, and looked down at his computer. It waited for him enticingly, every bit as beholden to his orders as the three dulcified girls jilting each other outside. Then, he looked a little further down--to where his half-hard cock stood, pointing towards the screen. He pictured himself plunging into the girls, filling up their generous, puffy bodies, ejaculating into their spacious depths, labias that dripped near-constantly with aroused secretions, vaginal walls that were spacious yet tight, puffed up artificially to make for the most soft and satisfying of holes to fuck, and uteruses that, thanks to his viral agent, were no longer capable of pregnancy, but yet which still awaited his seed as eagerly as a fertile woman's would.

As he stiffened further, he leant down and slapped a key with his finger, applying a digitized stamp to a page on the screen. Then, so as not to reconsider later, he dragged the file into his email program and fired it off quickly. By the time Charlie Vaughn had turned from his screen, erection leading the way, a computer in a secured room somewhere high up in a secretive, specialized private office had just pinged, having received a new email. It began to unpack and process the attached documentation even as Vaughn's office door closed behind him.

Vaughn pulled the kitchen drawer open, knowing full well that the three copulating girls cascading across his couch at that moment wouldn't react to him even if he started shooting at them. At that moment, Ella's fingers were all curled up into the soapy pussy of Claire, who was spread nearly completely flat on the couch beneath Paris, whose legs in turn were curled up underneath her and who was humping the life out of Claire. Ella, for her part, knelt on the couch beside them, and while she pressed her hand into the base of the women beside her, Claire's hand was inside her own, three of her fingers sawing back and forth as the circle of bliss created exactly that.

Vaughn put the secure case down on the marble countertop and unlocked it with his fingerprints, flicking it open to reveal a set of syringes, vials, and swabs inside. Lifting out one vial and syringe, he pressed the needle through the cap and extracted an exact amount, making sure to eject any air bubbles from the needle, knowing he was under-cooking the dosage slightly but intending to up it later as needed, or to administer a sixth dose if required. He had done the math; it should be the perfect amount for what he needed. Looking up at the girls, he sighed, watching as Claire--and then Paris above her--reached matching, spraying orgasms, their combined juices coating the tile in a generous layer of watery excretions. His eyes fell on Ella, her face masked with bliss, screaming silently as her pussy was pumped by an unseen hand between her legs. Seconds after her companions, she tensed up in her own powerful release, and a spray of watery droplets cascaded from beneath her. Vaughn hardened further as he watched them, his cock well conditioned by now to the sexual escapades his three bimboified women offered him. He had never felt as good as he did with them in his life, feeling as if something deep in his core, something primal, was completed with their presence. All except for one thing...

Looking down, Vaughn took his erection in his hand, and, lowering the needle to it, quickly and efficiently pressed it just above the base of his cock, where the blood vessels converged together. The plunger depressed under his thumb, and a moment later, the concoction was gone. Extracting the needle, he placed it down on the countertop and leaned there for a few minutes, considering what he had just done. His heart raced; his erection throbbed. He knew the numbers--but how long would it be until he actually started to feel something? Would he feel anything at all, or would it simply be a slow, passive digression into... What? What would he become now? Had he gotten the numbers wrong? Would he have no idea what he had become? Or would his desired growth be contained just where he wanted it to be, just as the simulations had shown?

Sighing, knowing he was committed now, Vaughn put away his virus, and took his erection around the kitchen counter, where Paris' shapely round ass beckoned to be penetrated, and where Ella's gorgeous blue eyes would soon be staring up at him from beneath his balls as she suckled them, waiting to drink the remnants of his ejaculation--and hers--as they fucked.

Vaughn woke alongside two soft, pillowy bodies, the girls snoring away peacefully beside him, breasts and thighs pressed close to him, keeping him warm enough that he needed no covers. Extracting himself from between them--neither woke, but Ella did scoot closer to Claire in his absence--Vaughn walked to the toilet, intending to piss, but realizing his erection prevented him from doing so. Ordinarily he would simply have waited a few minutes for it to pass, but glancing back out at the bed, he considered his options, and made a choice, knowing that both would take about as long, but that one could be a lot nicer than the other.

Thirty seconds later, Ella's still snoring body adjusted beneath her as Vaughn lifted her leg, turning her so that she rolled onto her back. Conked out from another tiring day of using her pussy as a brain, Ella only woke in time to feel Vaughn's thrusts pummeling her and moaned in bliss as he crammed himself tightly home inside her, his hot cum spurting hard against her deepest edges and coating her innermost walls. Filled up and content in her blissful stupor, she had faded back to sleep by the time Vaughn had slipped through her tightness, stepped off the bed and into the bathroom once more, his now cum-soaked cock starting to soften as he reached for the towel to clean it off.

A week later, and having not noticed any major differences yet, Vaughn once more took out his lab-grown chemicals, filled a syringe, and deposited the drug at the base of his penis. Then, he packed away his kit, and, erect as he was already, went in search of Paris for the aid of her body in softening it off a little. The ensuing sex lasted over an hour, and Vaughn found himself ejaculating twice inside her as he fucked her like a demon--not an unheard-of outcome, sure, but not a common one for him, either. Still, the sex had been phenomenal, and he thought no more of it.

Two weeks after Vaughn's first injection, Vaughn once more took out his kit, drawing the syringe back until it reached the third--or was it supposed to be the fourth?--marker. Momentarily confused, but deciding the smart thing to do was to play it safe, Vaughn ejected some of the contents out of the syringe and sent the rest through the skin of his shaft and into his blood stream, knowing that his erection would keep the viral agent localized until its potency had worn off. Turning to Claire as she waited beside him on her knees, he promptly passed the cock to her, and enjoyed a thorough, sloppy blowjob for his troubles.

For Vaughn's fourth injection, he decided to do the smart thing, and took out a marker, pulling the plunger on the syringe back and marking the level before injecting himself. His cock already stiffly erect, he didn't bother putting the kit away fully, figuring that--unlike himself--the bimboified girls he lived with would never be smart enough to understand how to use it, effectively making the countertop as safe as the fingerprinted briefcase in its tucked-away home. Instead, he quickly turned his attention to the bedroom, and in less than a minute, he was balls-deep in the tight, wet confines of Ella's sopping cunt, her guttural moans bouncing off the walls as he pummeled her.

Vaughn took his time with his fifth injection. He'd already missed the day to administer it--having mistaken Saturday for Sunday in his notes--and so was determined to get the amount right, lest two wrongs make something-or-something happen... Or something. He checked his levels, noting the marking on the syringe with a nod to himself, and pulled a generous portion of the viral serum into the syringe, quickly pressing it home between his legs before tossing the needle away, already intent on the hot sex that he knew came next, his throbbing erection stiff as a metal rod in anticipation.

Vaughn had to pull himself off the wet pussy that sat atop his kitchen counter, his lips making a wet smacking sound and trailing a sticky line of saliva and cum as he went, to fetch his sixth, and final, injection. Walking around the countertop, his cock bumping into the edges of the wooden boxing, Vaughn nearly dropped the case as he took it out. Inside, nothing was in order, and he had to brush several used vials and unused needles aside to find the agent he was supposed to be deploying. Finding it at last and being careful not to drop it--and nearly doing so three times--Vaughn pressed a needle home and began to draw the clear fluid out. I'm damn hungry, he thought to himself as he watched the clear solution entering the syringe.

'Hey,' Claire said from the countertop in front of him, leaning backwards over it, laying her head on top of the briefcase lazily, 'c'mon, horny.' It was the best her vocabulary had to offer these days, but it was more than enough for her to communicate her needs to her peers, who all echoed the same sentiments anyway. A wet sloshing sound confirmed what her words indicated, and Vaughn looked up, smiling at her and seeing the pair of massive breasts tumbling from her chest, one of the two bouncing about as her arm jerked it, her hand pressed against her pussy, the cause of the wet sounds her fingertips sawing back and forth inside it.

'Hold on baby,' Vaughn said, 'I gotta do this thing I gotta do.' He turned his attention back to the vial and saw the clear fluid inside it. Too late, he noticed the marker, now a little smudged and uneven due to his warm hand over the last couple of weeks. Beneath his hands, Claire wiggled herself closer, looking to put her lips on some part of him, not really caring which part.

'Hey!' Vaughn said as she reached for his arm, making him jerk the vial about, 'stop that! I'm tryina measer- measure this.' He blinked at the syringe. 'Damn, now I forgot where I got up to.' He frowned, looked down at the woman on his kitchen counter. 'Hey, you know what? I'll just go with a bit more. I deserve it! It's a treat!' he exclaimed. Claire nodded energetically beneath him, reaching out for his cock. He allowed her to take it, using her hand as it tried to stroke him by the tip as a way to hold him steady while he deposited the last necessary dose of his own viral serum into the bulging mass between his legs. He could almost feel the cool fluid as it filled his cock, as if just that small amount of extra liquid was stretching his whole penis like an over-full balloon, knowing it was making him way better than he had been before. He giggled at the pleasure the stretching--coupled with Claire's upside-down handjob--brought him, feeling the intensity of a fresh ejaculation welling up at the base of his shaft.

Then he tossed the needle back into the case, climbed awkwardly onto the countertop, switching his cock quickly from Claire's hand to her mouth, and pressed his mouth back between her legs once more, the ejaculation surging forwards even as he felt her lips closing around his base, her second lips splitting wetly around his mouth as he pushed himself between them, inhaling her powerful musk.

Charlie Vaughn fucked Paris like a rabbit, pumping her harder than he'd pumped before. Gasping and jerking beneath him, Paris could do nothing but take the beating and like it, her legs flapping about uselessly in the air as Vaughn used her like a suction-mounted masturbator. She was tight, tighter than he'd felt her in a long time, and it was great. Fucking Paris felt like fucking a virgin, and Vaughn went at it as such, enjoying every thrust as if it were his last. It took barely five minutes for the usually quite well-paced Vaughn to fill her up, and, groaning in bliss as he pumped her full of cum, Vaughn found himself already looking forward to the next blissful sexual encounter, his sexual hunger far from sated.

He found it thirty seconds later between the plump thighs of Claire, who was lounging on her phone just across from the pair. The phone tumbled from her fingertips as Vaughn roughly shoved her legs from each other and penetrated her in one hard pump, and Claire was moaning in jerky bliss within three, squeezing herself around him and clamping her hands into puffy, over-sized breasts capped with huge, hard nipples.

But Vaughn didn't find satisfaction in Claire, either--at least, not total satisfaction. Despite leaving her with a fresh wad of hot cum and her own quivering orgasm, Vaughn and his voracious cock were not yet done, and so he went in search for Ella, finding her in his bedroom shower, her soapy body his for the taking. Stepping into the spacious glass room, Ella, every bit as ever-ready and welcoming as her female counterparts, allowed Vaughn to bend her over, and within moments her flame-red hair was scratching the glass as Vaughn fucked her up against it. Bent nearly in half, Ella's pussy squirted as Vaughn creamed her up too, shuddering as he ejaculated for the third time in twenty minutes, his semen dribbling abundantly from her wide-spread labia.

Vaughn didn't know it, but things had changed significantly in his house since his first injection. Growing more and more sexual--a feat for an already sex-focused man--the first part of Vaughn to start to change had been his cock. He had been right in assuming that, by administering the doses into the blood vessels of his erect, and therefore closed-off, penis, he would lessen the effects of the virus, localizing them at least initially to his manhood. Indeed, the first dose had put an inch on him in both directions, and he had been sure that his mental faculties had remained untouched.

Only Vaughn's erections did, eventually, end, and though the virus' initial effects had taken place in his cock, once the blood there had begun to circulate throughout his body, it had taken hold exactly as it had been designed to do, sinking into his organs, muscles, skin and brain. By the time his third injection had come around, Vaughn had developed a noticeable bulge to his torso, and while his cock had grown significantly, so had the rest of him.

His repeated mistakes had not helped him, even if it was already far too late for the Vaughn that had existed before that fateful first injection. Vaughn's fourth injection had carried more serum than it was supposed to, and his fifth had made the same mistake. Vaughn's sixth had carried nearly two whole doses, and together with the others, had sealed the fate of the once hyper-intelligent, modern-masculine man.

Vaughn was unrecognizable now. Massive and bulky, he was as wide as he was tall. His arms had bulged with both muscle and bloat, and his chest almost matched Ella's for size. His torso had grown tremendously, and he stood atop two huge, curving thighs. Despite his size, though, his massive, throbbing, thick cock still stood proudly out from before him, now much larger than it had been, matching the rest of his body in growth and then some. It stood at somewhere over twelve inches and was as wide as his clenched fist, and it was perhaps only thanks to his brain's reduced capacity--and the fact that it now nearly never softened--that Vaughn did not pass out from the blood pressure difference it caused.

Unfortunately for Vaughn, little of his old mind remained. Now eternally horny, he only ever wanted sex; he practically rotated through the girls, using each orifice in turn before repeating the cycle, sharing them until they passed out in tiredness and then continuing to fuck them in their sleep. Where before, wet patches had collected from the three women squirting, now, smatterings of ejaculate hung everywhere too; Vaughn leaked nearly constantly and left trails wherever he went, and his ejaculations in the girls had only grown bigger, the difference in their sizes previously resulting in nearly no seminal leakage from them, but his newfound cock and balls now generating enough cum to have them overflowing in one session. Vaughn's sperm count had dropped drastically, not that he was ever going to successfully impregnate any of his sterilized bimbo-women anyway, his balls unable to keep up with the increased demand; but that didn't mean his body didn't work overtime to keep his loads well-stocked.

Vaughn's vocabulary had suffered badly, and he now spoke almost entirely in single-word remarks; 'horny' and 'food' and 'sleep' etc. He rarely logged onto his computer, and when he did, he usually just found his way to porn sites and jerked himself off a few times before walking away from the screen, occasionally going as far as to order whatever food came back at the top of his internet searches - for the word "food". His work emails went unanswered, and though colleagues--and even his boss--would come by, he would never answer. The knocks at the door, to Vaughn, were now as alien to him as any other external stimulus, and were almost entirely unimportant when he could be--and usually was--having sex instead.