Bimbo Stories: Helen Tracy

*This is one of my bimbo stories inspired by CrystalWynd's distinctive collection. Like him, I've chosen to set all my bimbo stories in a fictional town. Mine is an island I've named Vaunt Isle. Despite some references to each other, every bimbo story is a standalone. They are stroke stories that - despite some variation - follow a set pattern.

Because I can only choose one category, I chose Incest/Taboo because that's usually one that people would prefer to know about either way. The "secondary category" is Mind Control.

The Bimbo Stories are also extremely unrealistic in countless ways. You have been warned, so please to enjoy!*

*

"Shut up, I hate you! You're the worst Dad ever!"

Helen didn't even give her stunned father a chance to defend himself as she slammed her door and screamed at the top of her lungs from inside her room. Loud punk music blasted out of her laptop speakers moments later.

James, her father, felt angry, sad, embarrassed, and exasperated at the same time. When did his sweet daughter become so rude and aggressive? He wasn't even being unreasonable. She wanted to borrow the car for the entire weekend to go to a friend's cottage, and he had business meetings all weekend and all around the city. It was a privilege to borrow the car, not a right. He had been calm about it too.

James sighed and flopped down on the couch. He knew to expect a rough time during the teenage years, but Helen had been so pleasant when girls were usually the worst. He was blindsided by her recent behavior. Excepting her 18th birthday a few weeks ago, James hadn't even glimpsed the Helen he remembered for a while. The one that would joke around with him as they talked about everything under the sun.

James had even held off on dating to keep Helen happy. It had been fifteen years since his ex-wife had left Vaunt Isle without a trace except a note that said, 'sorry, Jim.' It wasn't easy, either. James was turning the big 4-0 this year and was aging very well. Women at his office were constantly flirting with him, and he found that the older he got, the more women would approach him. He didn't even go out much at all, but he got propositioned everywhere from the grocery store to the gym to even just taking a walk in the park.

He had his fair share of one night stands on business trips, but couldn't bring himself to bring a woman back to his home in Vaunt Isle. Not while his daughter was still there.

Yes, it had just been James and Helen and they had been a team up until recently. He didn't know what to do about it.

For the time being, he just watched some mindless TV to get his mind off of things, then turned in so he could wake up in time to drive to his meeting first thing in the morning.

He went to draw the curtains in his bedroom, but couldn't help but notice a lit window in his neighbour's house. The Hudsons had been there since before James and Abby moved in with Helen when she was a baby. They were nice enough, but their three daughters were about 5 years older than Helen, and so the two families never ended up being more than friendly acquaintances.

James felt bad for spying, but he was so shocked and intrigued by what he saw, he wasn't able to turn away. First off he noticed the face of Stewart, a boy in his mid-twenties who had just moved in a few doors down. He must have made quick friends with one of the daughters. No surprise to James, all three of the girls were stunning and still lived at home, despite being in their mid to early twenties as well.

But he didn't recognize the woman who ran up and kissed Stewart. Her back was to James, but she had long hair that was so blonde it was almost white. Their kissing was passionate. So much so that it moved them farther from the window and James was able to make out more of their bodies.

Stewart appeared to still be clothed, but the woman was completely naked. At least from the butt up. And what a view it was. Even from the distance, James' mouth watered at the girl's rounded ass. It curved boldly out from her thin waist and supported two firm fleshy cheeks that James felt were begging to be spanked.

But it was when James looked farther up her body that he saw what made him go instantly hard. Even facing away from him, James could make out her breasts. They were so huge that they bulged out from either side of her. Huge fucking tits that made perky semi-circles on either side of her body even with her back turned. James instinctively shoved his hand down his pants.

He was a sucker for big boobs. Abby was a proud owner of a pair of natural 34DDs, and James had been spoiled rotten on them until she left him. He missed much more about her than just her breasts, but it was her chest that haunted him most when he would allow himself to masturbate.

James usually waited for times when Helen was staying over at a friend's house before jerking off. He told himself it was because he didn't want any awkward situations, but somewhere he knew it was truly because Helen was looking more and more like a less busty version of her mother, and James didn't want to associate his daughter with his orgasms. The farther away from his jizz she was, the better.

James couldn't resist pleasuring himself this time, however. Big boobs had been on his mind more than usual recently and the image of a busty woman furiously making out with somebody was too much for his aching dick. Maybe it was his growing sexual frustration, but Vaunt Isle seemed to be home to more and more extremely well-endowed women these days, and it was driving James crazy.

As James stroked his larger-than-average cock, he vaguely thought about how maybe he should call the police seeing as there were two strangers in his neighbour's house. Mrs. Hudson and her three daughters were not blonde, and James definitely would have noticed if they were busty. They were all beautiful, but all pretty flat-chested.

But it was at that moment when Stewart broke the kiss and pointed his finger toward the window. James rolled out of sight like lightning, his heart pounding. Did that mean that Stewart noticed him? James had been watching the entire time, the boy in the window was either not looking up or was distracted by his makeout partner, James had to be safe. Right?

Against his better judgement, he slowly peeked through his window again. The sight returned whatever was lost of his erection from the scare. The boy was fucking the busty slut up against the window from behind! He must have pointed to tell her to turn around. He was still wearing a shirt, but he must have already been naked from the waist down. James considered the possibility that she had been sucking Stewart off before James started spying. The girl's giant tits were pressed up against the window, changing from large circles to huge circles against the glass as she rocked back and forth against the boy's dick.

James couldn't stop himself. He started pumping furiously on his own swollen prick, his eyes focused exclusively on the blonde's generous juggs. They seemed real based on the way they naturally jiggled and crashed excessively with the movement. God, he loved tits. Without thinking it through, James let his load loose. He shot harder than he could remember doing in a long time, covering his window with stream after stream of his hot seed. James just stood there with his head thrown back, exhausted from the orgasm and his efforts to keep quiet during it.

He finally realized he was standing naked at his window and looked back down into his neighbour's house in a panic. Thankfully, the young couple was still pounding away; blissfully ignorant. This was when James realized that the busty girl's face belonged to Becky, the middle Hudson girl. Even from this distance, James could tell that her lips seemed notably bigger, but the freckled face was unmistakable. Becky had loved her natural red hair, what made her dye it? And did her parents know about her boob job? How did she get the money for such a drastic and realistic one?

James' erotic moment had long since died down and he suddenly felt dirty for jerking off to his 23-year-old neighbour. Not much older than Helen...

Disgusted with himself and confused, James threw himself into bed; trying to forget the entire day.

He woke up in a pleasantly good mood. James didn't remember his dreams, but he felt they must have been good to have put the events of the previous day in proper perspective. Helen was just overreacting about the car. It was nothing to get upset about. The incident last night with Becky and Stewart was certainly unexpected, but it wasn't up to him what Becky did with her body. And relieving himself was just the natural act of a sexually frustrated man.

Feeling better than he had in days, James jumped in the shower. Because it had been nearly a year since his last business trip, he had stopped trimming his pubic hair. His good mood made him decide to just go for it and shave it all off. He felt very refreshed after.

James hummed to himself as he got dressed in his suit and went downstairs. It wasn't even 8am yet, so he was very surprised to see Helen at the breakfast table, writing a note. She slept in past noon on most weekends now. His footsteps caused her head to jerk up. Even covered by her unruly brown hair, James could see her bright green eyes huge with terror.

"Dad," she started, "I didn't even know you were up..."

"Didn't you hear the shower?" Asked James, confused.

"No...I was. ...Outside... Um..." Helen looked incredibly nervous and bit her thin lower lip. James was concerned. Why was she so upset? His instinct was to feel protective and worried. Was she okay?

Suddenly, Helen dashed out the front door. James was too shocked to follow right away, and she was already halfway down the street when he got to the door. He remembered the note and turned back for it.

"Dad, I'm so sorr" is all it said. James' stomach clenched. Ghosts of Abby flooded into his brain and he ran out of the door yelling his daughter's name at the top of his lungs, forgetting the time.

It wasn't until he turned his head to apologize to disgruntled neighbours that he realized that Helen probably wasn't running away, and what it was that she was actually apologizing for.

On the hood of his car - his nice new car that had been a rare gift to himself - were the words "FUCK YOU" in key scratches. James' heart sank.

He put on his shoes and locked his house without eating breakfast. He got into his newly defaced car and texted his daughter.

'Please don't run away, Helen. Please. I don't know what I would do without you. We'll talk tonight.'

James was angry about the car, but his concern and sadness was far greater. His good mood from earlier was completely gone. It at least calmed him a little bit when his phone buzzed as he pulled out of his driveway.

'OK,' it said.

James was a consultant at an advertising agency called Vaunt Ideals and was asked to sit in on a pitch meeting. Apparently with a big enough potential client to warrant not only a weekend meeting, but a trip to their offices. Advertising was a weird business, James mused. Although the agency needed clients to stay in business, Vaunt Ideals had such a great reputation that most of the time it was clients begging for Vaunt Ideals to represent them.

That was the other notable part of driving to the client's place of business, James figured they must be a pretty big deal if Vaunt Ideals was choosing to cater to them instead of the other way around. Because of all this, he expected the meeting to be a formality. Unless the product was illegal or the presentation was a complete bust, Vaunt Ideals would accept the client.

At a stoplight, James shuffled through the folder he had left in his car overnight. Vaunt Isle Relief Systems, that was the client's name. James found it strange for the client to be a Vaunt Isle based company that he didn't recognize. What new or small company would garner such a response from Vaunt Ideals? Vaunt Isle wasn't a small city, but James had lived and worked there long enough to be familiar with every local business that would require his familiarity.

He kept his mind on the mundane mystery to keep it off of his daughter and their spat. It would just be too stressful if he thought about it too much. Best if he wait until their conversation that evening.

James made sure to park a few blocks away from the address so that he wouldn't be seen emerging from his now profane car. He saved time by missing breakfast, so he didn't have to rush the short walk to the Vaunt Isle Relief Systems building. In fact, he was still a few minutes early.

The building didn't look like anything special. It was on the smaller side with no specific lettering on the side. It just looked like a generic office building in uptown Vaunt Isle. A pretty nice area, but it still didn't scream "weekend meeting" to James.

He walked in the front doors and didn't have time to take in the lobby because his eyes and ears were immediately drawn to the front desk.

"Ohmigod! Welcome so much to Vaunt Isle Relief Systems, sir! Are you here for the marketing meeting?"

James could not reply right away. First: "welcome so much?", "Oh my god?" Did they hire an idiot as the receptionist? And did her introduction imply that this whole office building was somehow dedicated to just their company? How did he never hear of them before?

James didn't have much time to ponder these thoughts further because he soon noticed the body that the voice came from. Behind the desk was a young woman who looked around Helen's age. Except this girl had long blinding blonde hair and a huge perky bust. Her hair was tied back professionally in a long ponytail, but the rest of her outfit was way too casual than James was used to in a business environment.

As he walked to the desk, he could see the girl sporting tight teens to match her casual pink t-shirt. Stretched across her generous chest was the logo for Vaunt Isle Relief Systems. The logo seemed very forgettable to James - it was nothing but stylized text - but that could have been because of the young teen titflesh just under the material that was gripping his imagination.

"Um, yes," James finally responded, "I'm here with Vaunt Ideals. Sorry I'm a bit early."

"Totally not a problem sir," the bombshell said before giggling, "plus, you're not even the first one here! There are some really comfy seats behind this wall, just wait there!"

"Thanks," stammered James. He could have sworn the girl glanced at his crotch while she spoke and she definitely bit her bottom lip after she finished. He shook it off and walked around to the other side of the wall. The eyecandy would be gone, but it would be less distracting. Sally, the CEO of Vaunt Ideals was the one who had arrived first. Sally was an attractive woman, but she and James had nothing but a professional relationship and a great rapport. Sally was the one who took the business by the reins when it was struggling and made it into the mammoth it was today.

"James," Sally said with a small smirk, "the first one here as usual."

"You mean the first one after you," James returned, "as usual."

"A stark greeting first thing on a Saturday, wouldn't you say?"

"Yes, I certainly didn't expect that."

"I may have walked out if the offer wasn't so fucking huge." Sally whispered the last two words.

"Yeah, well let's hope it's not just a sham. I've never heard of Vaunt Isle Relief Systems. What do they sell? Stressballs?"

Sally raised an eyebrow.

"Pretty much, yup. Easy gig if they do have the cash. Well worth a local weekend meeting. This isn't going to be the Chicago fiasco."

James grinned. Enough time had passed since that trip to be able to laugh at it now. It was one of the reasons most clients flew to Vaunt Isle these days. Clients had to prove they were serious.

Over the next five minutes, the rest of the pitch crew arrived and the team of 5 - including James and Sally - were escorted into the elevator by the bubbly receptionist.

Sally was the only woman there and because she was the boss, the men practically pulled muscles to not look at the unbelievable breasts of their excitable escort. James was the only one who knew Sally well enough to know that she had amusement mixed in with annoyance for the busty teen. Sally wouldn't really have cared if they stared, but James still chose not to. A raging erection would not be professional for a first impression.

The girl, who introduced herself as Bree, led them through offices on the 4th floor. It looked like the typical cubicle fare with typical employees and a typical dismal mood in the air, but at the back of the floor was a large meeting room. The walls were glass, but there were black curtains blocking any vision inside. Bree unlocked the door and told everybody to take a seat inside and get comfortable until the President of Vaunt Isle Relief Systems came in for his presentation. Bree seemed so excited that she was literally bouncing as she ushered them inside. James couldn't resist a glance down at the girl's bouncing globes that seemed desperate to escape from the fabric of the t-shirt.

There were exactly five seats - all facing the front of the room - and no table. Still, the team instinctively sat in a particular order. Sally took the middle seat with James to her right and Carl to her left. Carl had been there since even before Sally. He had even turned down the CEO job before Sally was offered it. He was happy being a part of the consulting team with James. Word was that Carl would retire this year, but James didn't believe it. He had heard that rumour for a few years now. James believed Carl would be there until he died. And at over 65, he still had a while to go.

Sam sat beside James. Sam was a nice, handsome man and just under a decade younger than James. For all the brilliant campaigns that he launched, the man seemed to live a pretty boring life. Wife, kids, no real hobbies except for keeping in shape. He always worked hard, however, and that's what mattered to Sally. James liked to think Sam stored up any abnormal thought he had and saved it for his campaigns. How else could such a vanilla guy be so creative?

On Carl's other side was Rex. A strange name for a fat balding man, but everything was weird about Rex. It was part of his brilliance, though. It was Sally's keen eye that saw the potential in the greasy, ugly man, and Rex certainly provided. He was the only one to top Sam with number of successful campaigns. It really was the cream of the crop who had been invited to the meeting.

Excited chatter about the fact that the president would be showing up personally soon faded as the team noticed their surroundings. The lighting was strangely dim for a meeting room and the black curtains didn't help that fact. A lack of table was certainly strange, and as the five continued to talk, James noticed music slowly start to rise.

One by one the others noticed as well. None of them could find any speakers; the peaceful music seemed to be coming from the walls.

"They really know how to set the mood," Sam said.

"They play better stuff at my massage place," was Rex's contribution, "and at least there I get a happy ending."

Carl said nothing, maintaining the sort of stoic handsomeness that only a man of his age could obtain. James glanced over at Sally to find her strangely zoned out; the woman was usually focused to a fault. But before James could say anything out of concern, the door opened.

The men kept enough of their professionalism to hold back any gasps at the strange sight that greeted them. The man who walked through the door seemed to be pulled from another decade. Century, even. He wore a full Edwardian era suit complete with pinstripe pants, morning coat, walking stick, and top hat.