The Bimbo Factory

I had been grateful that my steel underwear that denied all else had at least left me free at the back, but there was something obscene about seeing so many dildos plunging in and out as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "I'm not doing that," I said.

"Yes you are," Sunni replied. "Because after exercise time, it's shower time, the one wonderful time of day when your tits and pussy are yours to play with all you like."

Grinning mischievously, she grabbed my arm and dragged me over to a machine that dispensed dildos. "First time for you, so I recommend smooth and slender." She pressed a button and a pink, silicone dildo rolled out. "There you go," she said, pushing it into my reluctant hands. Moments later, she had herself a thick, realistic dildo, a purple cock with a bulbous head and a veined shaft.

She showed me how to attach it to the bike, showed me where to get lube (which I applied liberally to both the dildo and my inexperienced ass), showed me how to mount the bike and mount the dildo too - embarrassing as it was, there was pleasure in it too - and just as I was starting to get the hang of pedalling slowly while the dildo fucked me gently, Sunni dropped the helmet onto my head.

It wasn't a crash helmet. It was an immersive, virtual reality helmet, throwing me into the middle of a hard-core porn scene, fully 3D and surround-sound. I was a disembodied spectator as a big-breasted blonde with bright red lips moaned with delight about the huge cock in her mouth.

She seemed close enough to touch, but of course I wasn't there. A smack on my bum reminded me that I was supposed to be pedalling, and I noticed a progress bar floating in space at the bottom of my vision. My current progress was zero.

I resumed pedalling, and the dildo resumed its thrusting, and the blonde turned round and presented her pussy to the man. He smacked her cheeks playfully and drove his hard cock deep into her, settling quickly into a fast rhythm, the huge cock plunging deep and stretching her pussy wide. Her cries of pleasure sounded in my ears, and instinctively I pedalled faster, trying to match the thrusting of the dildo to the pounding of his cock.

As the progress bar increased to one percent, I sensed a subtle vibration from the dildo embedded in my pussy. At first I thought I was just imagining it, but each time the progress bar increased, the strength of vibrations increased too. In front of me, the huge cock pulled out of the blonde's pussy and pushed slowly into her ass. "Oh, yeah, fuck my tight ass, you bad boy," she growled. "Give it to me hard and fast."

He did, and again I tried to keep pace, peddling hard despite the growing weariness of my muscles. I was out of shape, what with being in and out of court for months, and actually it felt good to exercise again. The vibrations felt good too, as did the dildo sliding in and out of my ass, but I was beginning to understand why Sunni had chosen a dildo with more texture.

Ten percent. The blonde was on her knees, the man directing streams of cum at her face, most getting in her mouth but some landing on her cheeks. She waited until he was done, proudly showed off the creamy fullness of her mouth, and swallowed happily.

Eleven percent. Scene change. A brunette with big tits and bright red lips, bending over a balcony in some European city, a man thrusting into her from behind.

Fifteen percent. A Latino woman with big tits and bright red lips, a cock in her mouth, another hammering away at her pussy. Twenty percent. A double helping of cum leaking from her gaping ass.

I was exhausted. I pulled the helmet off my head and lifted myself off the dildo, then fell flat on my face as I climbed inelegantly off the bike.

*

At the entrance to the showers, masked guards unlocked and removed our chastity devices. The relief at being free of their weight and hateful purpose was so profound as to be almost orgasmic. I massaged my bimbo breasts, uncaring for once that they were twice their natural size.

As soon as we were out of sight of the guards, Sunni pushed me against the wall, her huge breasts pressing against mine. She kissed me hungrily as her hand delved between my legs, her fingers slipping into my pussy, her thumb seeking out my clit. My instinctive panic at being kissed without warning was washed away by my body's blissful response to her touch.

After twenty-four hours of being constantly aroused, of being tormented and denied, I was on a knife's edge of need. "Oh God, yes!" I cried, thrusting my hips against her hand and fingers. "Make me come," I pleaded. "I need it!"

She bent to suck on my nipples, capturing them with her teeth and flicking with her tongue, and I climaxed within seconds. There were a dozen women in the showers with us, all watching and grinning as I cried out. I clasped Sunni tightly to me for support as I convulsed ecstatically. "Thank you, thank you, thank you," I whispered, shaking in the aftermath of that powerful release.

Sunni kissed me affectionately. "You can thank me by returning the favour," she said. "Down on your knees, slut," she ordered. "Put your mouth to good use."

I had been called a slut before. Many times. I had always hated it. But I had just spent half an hour on the exercise bike, fucking my own ass with a mechanical dildo while watching women like me crying out in pleasure while being called sluts and treated like whores.

Sunni was right that they were fucking with our minds. I wasn't a slut or a whore or a bimbo or a lesbian, but I was deeply grateful and I was still helplessly aroused. I sank to my knees as ordered and studied her pussy, as hairless as mine, as smooth and wet and perfect as the pussies I had just seen being stretched and fucked by thick cocks - and the smell of her made me dizzy with lust.

I knew what to do, even if I'd never dreamt I'd do it myself. Only one man had ever done it to me. The same man who later knocked me up - before telling me he was married and running back to his wife. What was I supposed to do? I had no family to support me. No steady income sufficient to provide for a child. I would have been a single mother to an illegitimate child, and very likely without a job or any real hope for the future. Why bring a child into a life like that?

But, damn, the bastard had known how to use his tongue, and I was in love with Sunni's beautiful pussy. With my tongue, I swept between her soft, sweet lips, my mouth flooding with her juices that I drank up happily. Her clit jutted out, aroused and needful, ready to be worshipped by me. I kissed it; sucked on it gently; teased around it with the tip of my tongue before brushing over it with the flat. "Yes," she growled. "Like that, you bimbo-slut."

I no longer cared what she called me. I just wanted to feel her convulse with pleasure as I made love to her with my mouth. With steady sweeps of my tongue, I gave her clit the attention it craved, delighting in the way her breasts bounced above me in response to her excited breathing. The juices from her pussy dripped from my chin onto my breasts as I pushed her ever closer to climax, and when at last she tumbled over the precipice, it was as if floodgates had opened, fluid gushing into my mouth as her hips trembled and shook.

*

"This is my last day," Sunni said that evening as we lay together in her bed. Although we were imprisoned in steel chastity once again, there was pleasure in each other's warmth and company.

"Leaving?" I asked, alarmed. Leaving this place meant only one thing: the third injection. I couldn't imagine why she would want that. Fucked up though this bimbo factory was, a life of exercise bikes and shower sex was infinitely better than that final surrender.

"You'll understand," she said, caressing my cheek sadly, "when it's your time. We all leave here sooner or later."

"I thought you liked me," I said, confusing myself with the realisation that I more than liked her. That maybe I even loved her, despite that we had met only hours earlier.

She laughed at my confused expression, and kissed me tenderly. "Remember this moment. Remember what it's like to be innocent."

The next day, she was gone, escorted away before breakfast. She blew me a kiss from the doorway, and that was the last I saw her. I was angry at her for hours, scowling at anyone who dared look at me. I was angry even as I pedalled furiously on the exercise bike, doing my best to mentally shut out the women screaming with pleasure in front of my eyes. Only in the showers did I break down at last, my tears washed away by the hot rain.

Sunni was right though. Everyone left, sooner or later. It was the exercise bikes that did it, blurring the line between our reality and the fiction of porn. After weeks of daily watching women that looked exactly like us being treated like whores and loving it, it became increasingly difficult to see ourselves as any different.

The women I shared a dormitory with were just versions of the women I saw opening their mouths and pussies and asses as if the cum that filled them mattered more than life itself. The woman I saw every day in the mirror was just another of those cum-adoring sluts. After all, did I not spend an hour each day with a massive, veined, silicone cock fucking my ass as I raced to one hundred percent, the vibrations enough to make me climax repeatedly while a succession of bimbo-sluts begged for cum?

In my dreams, I was the one sucking a cock in a department store changing room and getting fucked on a Parisian balcony and being double-teamed behind a bus stop. I was the one being called a slut and treated like a whore. I was the one begging for cum, and crying out in ecstasy as an endless parade of thick cocks unloaded in my pussy and in my ass and in my mouth... and on my face and in my hair and all over my breasts and my belly.

And finally I understood, just as Sunni and all the others had understood. The third injection was a mercy compared to this steady erasure of my humanity. "I'm ready," I told the guards, and the following morning I was escorted out, back to the cell where I had first awoken.

*

I had been so sure the third injection would just erase all original thought, that I would end up being just one more identical bimbo rolled off the prison production line, but it didn't work that way. As I lay on the bed in my cell, nursing the splitting headache that seemed so far to be the main consequence of the injection, I waited for mindless oblivion to claim me and, if nothing else, bring a merciful surcease from the dark depression that had slowly consumed me over the previous few weeks.

I was grateful, at least, that they had removed the chastity device. I had grown accustomed to wearing the steel armour and, in some ways, grown to enjoy its teasing and denial, but there was relief in having unfettered access to my own body again. In being able to toy with my clit and play with my nipples, and thus distract from my aching head.

They had turned me into a bimbo. I had fought them every step of the way, but actually I looked really good, and felt really good. My skin was so smooth, everywhere, and my legs were toned and muscular from the daily exercise, and my big breasts were so much sexier than before...

I knew I was supposed to feel angry at them for doing it to me, but I was tired of caring about the past. All that thinking and overthinking was what had got me so depressed in the first place. An unhealthy obsession.

Those porn films, for example. They were just entertainment. Beautiful women having sexy fun. But in my obsession over what was real and what was not, I'd turned them into something sinister and manipulative. It would be really good to go back to that exercise room, saddle myself up with the biggest dildo ever, and just enjoy those films the way God intended.

Even better would be to be one of those women, the hard, flesh cock of a real man thrusting into my ass, or my pussy - or both. Two men, one in front, one in back. Living flesh, pulsing with need, ready to burst and fill me to the brim with so much cum it spurted out of me like a geyser afterwards.

I laughed at this glorious image. Yes, it was so much better to just accept that I was now a slut-bimbo. So much better to fuck than to fight.

My headache slowly cleared as I concentrated on making myself come, imagining myself within a circle of eager cocks ready to shower me with cum. Those bukkake videos were so hot.

The door opened and the masked man-in-black entered. I stared at him curiously, remembering that I had hated him but unable to conjure up the emotion. Instead I spread my legs wide to let him see my wet pussy as I continued brushing my sweet, sensitive clit with idle fingertips.

I had hoped he would take the hint and fuck me. I was tired of watching the action instead of being it. I wanted him to call me a slut and treat me like a whore, not just stand there watching me finger myself.

Suddenly I recalled his words that first day. "Please, sir," I said. "Please come all over my tits." I'd watched hundreds of porn clips. I knew how to talk the talk.

Walking to the side of my bed, he unzipped his trousers and extracted his swollen, semi-hard cock. "Tell me what and who you are," he ordered.

"I'm Lexi," I said obediently, eyeing his cock hungrily. I wanted to suck on it until it filled my mouth with cum. "I'm a bimbo-slut." It was true.

"Yes you are, Lexi," he said, stroking his fully erect cock. "Tonight you will meet your new owner. How do you feel about that?"

The question confused me. I had never thought about being owned before. "I don't know, sir."

"Legally you are the property of the State," he explained, "but as the State's representative I have the authority to sell you."

"Oh," I said, more uncertain than alarmed.

"You will be required to have lots of sex," he continued, "and very likely with lots of different people."

"Oh," I said again, this time intrigued. "Yes, sir."

"I'm going to come all over your tits," he said, his tone polite and conversational.

"Thank you, sir."

Abruptly he returned his erect cock to his trousers and zipped up. He pointed at the ventilator grill that was still hanging open after all those weeks. "I'll be waiting at the other end."

I'd been keeping myself at the edge for some time with my self-caressing fingers. The abrupt memory of all that cum and all those dildos and my helplessness surrounded by watching men... was all it took to push me over. With a cry I climaxed, the masked man watching dispassionately as I convulsed on the bed, tugging at my huge, ever swollen nipples with one hand, finger-fucking my gushing pussy frantically with the other.

*

My second crawl through that dark, narrow passage was a lot faster than the first. I was a lot more confident about what I was doing, didn't have to worry about being discovered, and I was a lot fitter too. I climbed easily through the vent and followed the duct into impenetrable blackness, steel walls all around me for the first, horizontal section, then the dimpled rubber of the incline.

This time I was ready for it, braced for when the rubber became wet and slippery, and with a rush of excitement I slid down the chute, trusting that everything was as before. What I hadn't anticipated, however, was just how distracting the final section would be. The floor was slimy with what could only in my imagination be cum. The cum of hundreds of men, surely, and all for me. The sensation of it on my skin, and between my fingers as I massaged my heavy breasts with handfuls of creamy cum, was electrifying.

I crawled on, shivering with delight as silicone dildos brushed against me. I caressed them lovingly when my hands discovered them, sucked on one or two briefly as I passed, increasingly paused when possible to guide a particularly long one into my ass or pussy.

When the lights switched on suddenly, illuminating me inside the transparent silicone channel and revealing the dark figures outside, I was almost too busy fucking myself on a prize specimen to care. I had a cock in my mouth and another in my ass, a third sliding back and forth my right breast. I was in heaven.

This time the tunnel did not collapse around me, imprisoning me immobile, but instead peeled open. The thick dildo whipped out of my ass, leaving me feeling very empty there and in need of a replacement. I looked up hopefully at the masked men that surrounded me, hard cocks jutting from black trousers. The relatively cool air of the room made me very aware of how much cum there was smeared across my skin and soaked into my hair, and just how wet my thighs were from my aroused pussy.

"Kneel, slut," their leader said.

"Yes, sir," I said, eagerly getting into position facing him, my hands lifting my breasts in offering. After all, that was what I was and this was why I was here. "Please come on my tits, sir."

One by one, the other men approached and came, their cum splashing against my cheeks and into my welcoming mouth. I didn't swallow, but kept my mouth open to show off the creamy mixture inside as their leader took his turn. The first, great spurt was directed straight into my mouth, but then he aimed down and I shivered with delight at the impact of his cum on the slopes of my breasts.

And then he was done, and as I massaged my breasts I swallowed my mouthful of cum, opening my mouth after to prove to them all what a cum-loving bimbo-slut I was.