Bimbo at the Bank | free bimbofication story

CHAPTER ONE

The day was scorching hot and sweating had become so common that it felt almost natural. There was no semblance of wind in the entire city and the only respite from the blazing heat could be found at the bottom of a cold beer glass or under comically oversized fans. The ground was almost completely barren, where there once were patches of grass now stood only brown, dead leaves. In general, it was nothing new or particularly shocking. Dallas in the middle of the summer was always pretty unanimously dreary.

John sighed under his breath, twirling the half-empty pitcher of beer between his hands. He had found a seat in a small cafe across from the bank he had been scoping out, the object of his interest for a few weeks now. The beer had started out cold and frosty, but now it tasted like something that came out of the armpit of a particularly vile cow. He had never been much of a beer man, but unbearable heat drove men to hysterical decisions and he was no better for it.

John was pretty much an entirely forgettable guy. He was tall, but not tall enough to stand out. His hair was a boring brown color and his eyes were as dull as the rest of him, gray and slightly sunken. He had picked up a tan from his escapades in California, but on an average day he was pasty and raised several questions about his physical health in concerned onlookers. John wasn’t particularly built or very pudgy, he was just all around average, nonthreatening and

lackluster. It was probably one of the main reasons why he had gotten as lucky as he had for as long as he had.

He was a minor celebrity in his home town St Lavinia, in Alabama. It was a long convoluted story as to what made him such a household name, but to make a dreary story short, it involved a pretty little historian waking up one day and accusing the town’s librarian, who happened to be John, of doing unspeakable things to her. Now, she couldn’t exactly remember what said unspeakable things were and the police could never pin anything specific on John. Yet, her teary-eyed confessions about seeing him last before she lost her memory for several days was enough to get the town looking at John a little bit differently. It was at that point when John decided that perhaps it was smart to make himself scarce for a while.

John had a bit of a curious power. He came from a long line of powerful warlocks, most of whom used their capabilities for their personal benefit in rather colorful, horrific ways. John had decided to be a bit of an odd offshoot in the family tree. He had no interest in wealth or fame or conquering nations like a few of his ancestors had.

Nope, he just wanted one thing. He wanted the perfect woman and he was determined to make her for himself, no matter what.

For a long time, John hadn’t believed in the hoopla surrounding the men in his family and the stories that his father and grandfather told. They seemed a bit fantastic in the age of technology and knowledge. Magic, after all, was nonsense, at least according to the general populace. Yet, his curiosity had been peaked and he soon found himself

pouring through ancient manuscripts and heavy leather-bound books, looking for ways to make his dreams come true. He was surprised to find that he was not the only man in history who had been obsessed with the female form and wondered how to manipulate it with dark magic. Finally, the day came when he wanted to test out his spells and that was where Cassandra, the hapless historian, had come in.

Sadly, the spell had not been quite as permanent as he had hoped (plus he got kind of bored of the blonde ditz as well) and she woke up as just her average self again in a few days, prompting John to make a calculated exit. After St Lavinia had become too hot to handle, he had packed his bags and snuck off to California, where he managed to keep his hands to himself for just around a week before he changed a beach bunny to fit his needs. That as well had not gone exactly as planned. In the middle of a particularly indescribable act, the girl had suddenly changed back from her bimbo form and what followed was a nerve-wracking escape from the Sunshine State.

In short, John was pretty annoyed with his last few months. Now he was in Texas, because that’s as far as his money got him, stuck without a girl and without a penny to his name. In fact, the last bit of money he had, had been spent on the vile beer, a decision he imagined he would regret for quite a while. If he had been a bit smarter about his whole warlock-y skills, he would have picked up more spells than just how to change a girl into a bimbo, but sadly he had not thought quite that far ahead and the results were less than tasteful.

He sighed again, resting his chin on his hand as he stared at the bank across the street. There was a plan that he had concocted one night, when he had been just a little bit drunk and frustrated, and he couldn’t get it out of his head anymore. It was fantastic, impossible and ridiculous, so obviously he was fully committed to it now. John twirled his fingertips around the rim of the glass, trying to make his heartbeat slow down. Every time he thought about what he wanted to do, he felt like he was going to have a heart attack.

How bad can it be…People rob banks all the time! John thought to himself, furrowing his brow. A warlock without money and in a foul mood in the middle of the Texas summer could have spelled quite a bit of trouble.

Thankfully, John only knew one spell and how well could he hold up a bank if his only skill was turning regular women into sex-hungry bimbos?

CHAPTER TWO

It took him a good hour longer to actually compel himself to stand up and move towards the bank. He was a wanted man in California, after Jenny had had a fit and rushed off to the police before he could change her back to a mindless blonde shelf for tits. There were some serious kinks showing up with his spell that he hadn’t quite been prepared for, but John was getting to a place where he was a bit desperate and not thinking perhaps as coolly as he should have.

Having those haughty, smart chicks turn into big-breasted, brainless cumwhores had changed something in him that was hard to control the further he got to enjoy it.

He had gotten a taste and he wanted more, but he also knew he had to get enough money to actually be able to survive. Fucking 24/7 was great and all, but even warlocks required nutrition and a place to sleep. He’d considered a slew of different plans, but after he had had to hightail it out of California and had even been involved in a bit of a footrace between himself and a patrolman at one point, he was getting a clear message that it was time to disappear from his beloved USA for a while.

What he had come up with was that he’d stroll into the bank, find a teller at one of the less visible booths, turn her into a bimbo and then make her give him all the money she could. When he got the stacks of cash, he would rush out of Dallas, catch a boat and maybe enjoy sunny Cuba for a while, where it didn’t matter where you came from and what you’d done. Besides, the thought of turning Cuban girls into

bimbos was somewhat appealing. Perhaps he could make a world tour of it. “Bimbos of the Continents” or something.

He was a bit curious as to what kind of a bimbo a Chinese girl would make, for example.

Anyway, the plan was not great and there were a lot of holes in it, but he was confident that he could pull it off.

Mostly because that was the only plan he had and he was getting hungry, so he would have to pull it off, no matter what. John was determined to control his urges when he stepped into the bank, which was perhaps his biggest worry.

He hadn’t screwed a girl in weeks and his erections at the thought of seeing a bimbo again were getting a tad ridiculous. Just the idea of seeing those vacant eyes, lush lips and plush tits made him stand at full attention, which was not beneficial to a bank heist.

No fucking the teller, he reminded himself sternly, as he exited the cafe and strolled across the street. It was a lazy afternoon and not a lot of people were milling around, which worked out just fine for him. Even though he was only wanted in California (and just a little in Alabama), John still figured it may be in his best interest to keep out of sight as much as possible. He looked to either side of him before pulling open the heavy door to the bank, not quite sure as to what he expected to see, but glad that he hadn’t seen it none the less.

The bank was one of those old-timey deals with high ceilings, stone walls and tile floors. John did his best to look innocuous, something that he had become quite adept at over his years of being completely ordinary, and walked over to one of the tiny booths to the side of the reception

area. There were about a dozen people waiting in lines or talking to the cheery women in their little boxes. John picked the one the furthest from the hulking security guard, all dressed in black and looking like he could squish a would-be bank robbers head like a grape in 2 seconds flat.

John had walked through the bank several times and even taken a consultation about opening up an account there in order to familiarize himself with the building. He knew that the vaults were downstairs, based on the fact that the people who carried the cash opened security doors and disappeared down some stairs. There were about two guards in the reception area at all times and somewhere around 6 open booths throughout the day, more in the evening, less in the morning. The air smelled like way too many people came to that particular bank every day, but the building was impeccably clean and well-kept otherwise.

He had picked that particular house of money because he didn’t want to hold up a place with too little cash, nor a place with too many people. The Wyatt National Bank had been a good pick in the middle of the two extremes. John cleared his voice when he reached the booth, trying his best to look casual and in control. He smiled to the teller, a 30-something, slightly plump woman with glasses and a nametag that read ‘Rosalind’.

She too was entirely mediocre. There were small acne scars on her face and she hadn’t spent nearly enough time on her makeup and appearance that morning. She wore the mandatory outfit that consisted of a black pencil skirt and a white button-up shirt, along with shoes that had a small heel. Her dull reddish brown hair was put up in a bun and

the lenses on her glasses looked way too thick to even be in the same universe as sexy. Drab was the word that John would use to describe her. Ironically, she was exactly the kind of woman that would be in his league if he was not a warlock with weird and wonderful powers.

“Hello, Sir. How can I help you?” she asked, flashing a wide smile. John smirked slightly.

That’s right, start calling me Sir right away, it’ll be easier to get used to Master later, he thought, glancing around one more time, before he reached into his back pocket and took a handful of the dust he had placed there in the morning. His heart was pounding in his ears and his skin broke out in sweat, but not because of the heat outside.

Adrenaline coursed through his veins, making his head spin a little. He loved that moment before they turned, the anticipation and wondering if he could go through with it.

“You can stay very quiet, Rosy,” he said through clenched teeth, before he tossed the sand in her face and muttered the few phrases he needed to complete the chant.

“factus est bimbo!” he finished, holding his breath as the last word slipped from his lips. He watched with wide eyes as the woman sputtered and coughed, waving her hand in front of her face as if that would make the fine sandy particles disappear. She inhaled them and immediately John could see the change start to happen.

Rosalind took off her glasses, rubbing her eyes in confusion. The red was seeping out of her hair and the color as if drained from the roots, replaced with a pure blonde.

Her tired eyes became wider and more innocent, the brown

irises transforming into pools of baby blue. The front of her shirt bulged forward and John almost got hit in the forehead by a popping button, which flew off as her modest breasts grew several sizes. John bit his lower lip, completely enthralled by the transformation that was always the same, yet completely different for each girl. Her waist shrunk and her nails grew longer, the red lacquer replaced with pink.

Badly tended eyebrows became smoother and got a higher arch while her lashes grew long and lush. Rosalind’s ass started growing wider, taking up more space on the chair as her legs grew slimmer and tauter. Her lips plumped up and her cheekbones shifted higher, cheeks flushed with pink. She looked like she was about to burst out of her clothes, the shirt way too tight around her tits and the skirt stretched around her delicious ass, while the fabric bagged around her waist. When she giggled a little and looked at John with eyes that betrayed not a single thought, the man knew she was ready.

He smiled widely and reached into the cubicle, tearing her nametag off of her shirt and brushing his fingertips over her breast. His cock was hard and ready to plunge into the ditzy bimbo, making the man gulp down another nervous breath. He knew he shouldn’t, he knew he couldn’t…but he was afraid he would.

“Hello, Rosy. I’m John and you will call me Master. Take me down to the vaults now,” he said, keeping his voice low and calming. The girl nodded enthusiastically, licking her lips a little. He could barely contain himself from tearing the front of her shirt open right then and there and squeezing those magnificent tits. John had put some time into perfecting the spell again, mostly due to the mishap he had

had last time. The last thing he wanted was for the bimbo to turn back mid-fucking, but it would be even more problematic if it happened when he was attempting to steal loads of money.

He had also tweaked some of the other aspects. John had decided he wanted an even more perfect ass and rounder nipples. The lashes needed to be longer and the mind needed to be even gigglier. By the looks of Rosy, he had succeeded at all of the tasks he had listed for himself.

Not too shabby, if he did say so himself.

“Yes, Master,” she said happily, bouncing up and out of her chair. John’s heart skipped a beat when he got a look at that perfect ass of hers, so round and firm in that tight skirt.

Bliss.

He glanced around himself again and tossed a friendly smile at the guard who had given him a scowling look before. John walked over to the little partition that kept him from the back of the booths and Rosy opened it for him, letting the thief in training into the employees only area.

She giggled again and wanted to rub herself against John, but he pushed her away and pointed her towards the security door.

“Now now, Rosy, wait a little. Let’s go see the money and then we can decide whether you deserve some cock.

You want some dick in your throat, don’t you, Rosy?” he asked coyly, tugging the front of his shirt down a bit to hide the boner he was sporting. The bimbos were always so damn hungry for him that it was hard concentrating on anything other than the physical and mental perfection he had just created. But he knew that he needed to get her out of sight before anyone actually noticed that the mild-

mannered Rosalind had turned into what could only be described as an excellent porn starlet.

She pouted a little but turned about on her toes, heading towards the door he had pointed her at. When they got to it, she looked at it a bit dumbly, not sure of what to do. John reached around her and grabbed the little badge that was attached to her hip, pulling it longer on the lanyard and pushing it against the security panel. The door slipped open with a satisfying click and John ushered the girl in there, closing the door behind him.

He felt like he could finally breathe again, a smile snaking across his sly lips. As they headed down the stairs, he grabbed Rosy’s ass, unable to control his urges. It felt just like he had wanted it to.

Damn, I’m good, he thought, more than a little satisfied with his handiwork. He had to keep coaxing the girl to move forward, but they finally reached the end of the staircase.

They were standing in a wide open space with rows of doors in front of them, all leading to different vaults. John frowned, trying to pick one, and just ended up following Rosy, who headed for one of the ones further down the line. He grabbed her card again and the heavy vault door opened with a loud rumble, making the man look around in fear to see if anyone was coming. Luckily, the coast was clear and he pushed the ditzy girl in the huge vault.

When he heard the loud clattering of the automatic locks clicking shut behind him, he took a deep breath and leant against the wall. The sight before him was wonderful.

Stacks of fresh dollars were set neatly in piles and on

shelves, the walls literally lined with money. Best of all, Rosy was standing in the middle of it all and kind of twirling back and forth, amusing herself with whatever little thoughts must have been floating through her decidedly vacant head.

John’s cock throbbed painfully. He knew he shouldn’t do it.

The only reasonable thing to do was to grab some bags, shove money in them and make his exit before anyone came to check. That was the reasonable thing to do.

But he couldn’t be reasonable anymore. He wanted to be wildly irrational and fuck a bimbo in piles of money. Now, that sounded like a lot more fun.

CHAPTER THREE

“Rosy, show me your tits,” he said, his voice sounding a bit alien to him. Rationality battled with human urges and the idiot inside of him, who wanted to be balls deep in some virgin bimbo pussy, won out over the sensible man, who wanted to go buy an island and never worry about being caught ever again. It was a sad day for mankind, but it was shaping up to be a glorious afternoon for John.

The babe obviously complied with his demands. She licked her lips and happily went about unbuttoning her shirt.

It fell to the ground behind her and her big tits almost popped out of the bra that tried vainly to contain them. Only her nipples were still sticking behind the fabric, the big round globes having pushed the bra out from her chest. It was really doing very little in terms of support.

Rosy reached behind her back and unclasped the latch, the bra flying off her chest and winding up as a crumpled pile of fabric on the ground. Her long fingers touched and squeezed the delicate mounds, suddenly enthralled by her new body. She pinched the nipples and twisted them between her fingertips and John couldn’t help but groan a little. The bimbo was delicious and it was such a relief being around a real woman again, the kind of woman he thought all women should be.

I’ll just fuck her a little, he thought, biting the inside of his mouth. His cock was almost screaming for some soft, hot

bimbofied pussy and he couldn’t deny himself the chance to try what he had created any longer.

“Do you like that, Rosy?” he asked, taking off his shirt as the girl kept herself occupied.

“Yes, Master!” she quipped, her hands curiously running down her ample bosom and her flat stomach. Her eyes were wide with excitement and John could see her breath coming in rapid bursts, the engineered sex machine slowly revving up just like he wanted her to.

“Good. Now take off your skirt and panties,” John commanded, as he fumbled with his belt and pants. He had just hopped out of his shoes as the blonde bombshell unzipped her skirt and let it slide down her hips, taking the black thong along with it. His thoughts skipped a beat, unable to really process the flawlessness before him. Rosy still had on black stockings, but she had stepped out of her drab shoes. She was a vision of feminine beauty, a perfect hourglass shape with big tits, a round ass and the face of a horny angel. Her bush was shaved and he could see that she was glistening with wetness already.

“Touch yourself,” he said, pushing down his pants and letting his cock spring free. He was hard and his cock was more than prepared to plunge into her moist cunt. She slipped a hand between her legs and pushed one of her tits up to her face with the other, circling her tongue on the soft flesh of her breast. The fingers pushed into her wetness, making the girl moan like a cat in heat. Her fingers started working swiftly, rubbing her swollen clit and touching the wet folds with obvious hunger. John watched it for about a minute or so, still leaning against the door, stark naked. She

was just right. No hint of the sad little teller remained, she was all hotness, flawless shapes and lust.

He covered the ground between them with a few quick steps and grabbed her by the waist, pulling her into him. His mouth clasped around one of her nipples and he sucked on it hard, making the bimbo slut giggle and yelp. She pressed into him tighter, still playing with her clit as she had been told. John buried his face into her lush tits, licking and sucking at them. It had been too long.

“You’ll be a good bimbo whore for me, won’t you?” he asked, already spinning the girl around and pushing her to lean on the shelves. She nodded enthusiastically, her long blonde hair bouncing on her shoulders.

“Yes, Master, I’ll be a good whore for you.”

“Excellent,” he muttered, smacking her curvy ass. She gasped and then pushed into him, looking over her shoulders with her teeth grazing her lower lip. He knew she wanted more. They always did.

Without further discussion, he plowed into her wet slit.

Rosy screamed out, her back arching. John knew very well that he had made her into a bimbo virgin and the first thrust must have hurt, but that just made it better. She wailed in his arms, but didn’t struggle as he pulled back a bit and then forced in deeper again. Rosy was so tight that it was hard for John to fit his big cock in her, but she was completely soaked with her own juices, which certainly helped. She gasped as he plunged in again and again, his speed picking up as she molded around him, tight and willing.

John smacked her again, the girl throwing her head back and gasping.

“Yes, Master, please do that again,” she begged, and he hit her once more. Rosy was completely lost in ecstasy and John was more than happy to indulge her. Big heaps of money were just in front of her on the shelves and looking at them while spearing into tight bimbo pussy was just about the best way John could think of to spend a day. Her cunt milked him hungrily, small muscles yearning for his seed and for him to bang her harder and faster. John lost any control he may have had, pulling out and bucking back into her with harsh strokes. Her pussy made small sloshing noises every time he got out of her delicious warmth and it sounded like the most delicious tune his ears had heard in a long time.

John kept spanking her gorgeous ass, his palm print now firmly placed on one buttock. Her large tits rubbed against the metal shelves, grazing the nipples and making them pink up. The air, dry and well ventilated, began smelling of sex and sweat, which mixed with the distinct smell of millions of dollars. John looked around with feverish eyes, his cock demanding for something more than just the virginity of the bimbo’s pussy. He spotted a large pile of money on the floor, yet to be shelved, and smiled slightly.

He pulled out of her and wouldn’t enter her again, causing the blonde slut to yell out in protest. John grabbed Rosy by her hair and dragged her across the room, the girl whimpering but not complaining, as a good cumslut was supposed to. She was pushed down on the stacks of dollar bills and John got on his knees behind her, dragging her back up on her hands and knees. He grabbed a handful of

the dollars that had slipped out of the ties that kept the stack together and showered them on her back, his thoughts completely consumed by the physical sensations.

His mind couldn’t keep up, but he didn’t care much for that right then and there.

“Now, I will fuck you in your ass and you will enjoy it, Rosy, do you hear me?” he demanded, the girl looking at him with those vacant blue eyes. She nodded and grinned widely, showing her pearly white teeth.

“Yes, Master! Please fuck me in the ass so I could be a good cock holster for you!” she said, positively beaming.

How could he deny such a heartfelt request. John exhaled and settled in behind her, exposing her tight little asshole with his thumbs. He was going to make her gape with his veiny, throbbing rod and she was going to scream for joy, of that he was certain.

John started pushing into her, the girl holding firmly and not budging under the pressure. His cock was slick with her wetness and the head finally pried into her, making the girl moan deeply as her ass was violated for the first time. She was a good bimbo, he would have to remember to reward her for it later. He let out a loud gasp as the head finally slipped in and he could force the rest of his thick rod up her ass. It was even tighter than her cunt had been, feeling like every inch he managed to get into her was some kind of small victory. It was unbelievably good.

The money under his knees rustled slightly as he started moving into her with longer strokes, the girl wailing and whimpering each time he thrust. John reached forward and

pinched one of her taut nipples, the blonde brainless slut arching her back and letting him get even deeper in her ass after that. Sweat was dripping down his back as he violated her ass. The tight, plush ass bucked against his hips as he sunk in to the hilt, his balls smacking against her wet pussy.

John’s strokes got deeper and faster as she grew more accustomed to him, the man taking no time with forgetting all about the gentleness. His fingers dug into her soft skin as he held her by her hips, plowing into her ass on millions of dollars like it was the most normal thing.

She rocked against him hungrily, her heavy tits swinging back and forth and her eyes just a bit glazed over, making her look even hungrier for it all than before. He was sure she would love to be filled with more cocks, taken and made to be the whore she knew she was deep inside. But she would have to make do with just him, at least for now. Rosy kept getting louder and he could feel her body quake and quiver under him. She must have been close to her release. John suddenly grabbed her hand and pulled it out from under her, making the girl fall face-first into the money with her ass up in the air and firmly held by John’s big cock.

“Touch yourself,” he hissed, trying to keep from cumming as she had opened herself up to him further. Rosy put her hand between her legs obediently and started rubbing her needy clit, fingertips moving swiftly. She groaned heavily and her shakes became harder.

“Can I cum, Master?” she asked innocently, and John nodded immediately.

“Yes, slut, cum for your Master,” he said, the girl screaming loudly right after he had told her that she would be allowed to let go. Her body shook under the massive

waves of her orgasm, her ass clenching around John’s dick.

He gasped for breath, her ass as if grabbing hold of him.

When he tried to pull back, he couldn’t control it anymore.

With a roar, he emptied himself into her, long ropes of cum bursting into her. He gasped, every muscle flexed as he filled her ass with his milky seed. When he pulled out of her, she gaped nicely, a single string of cum dripping down her thigh. The girl stayed in the position he had left her, heaving for breath with her cunt and ass exposed to his satisfied gaze. John fell back on the money, lying down and staring at the gray ceiling with not a single bothersome thought in his head. It wasn’t quite the ‘quick fuck’ he had imagined.

“Was I a good whore, Master?” Rosy asked, her voice shaking a little. John nodded mutely before finding the strength to force out a few words.

“Yes, Rosy, you were a good bimbo whore.”

CHAPTER FOUR

John was out for a good five minutes, trying desperately to gather his thoughts and his strength. When he finally managed to get off of the stacks of cash, he almost didn’t care about the money anymore. With a resigned sigh, he dressed and told Rosy to put on some clothes as well. He found the canvas bags he had stuffed in his pockets and started gathering money into them, his heart not nearly as much in it as he had originally anticipated. Just went to show that a man really only needed a good fuck to see the world in brighter colors.

Rosy put on her slutty outfit and helped him fill the bags. When he was finally satisfied, she helped him carry them out of the vault. John felt a certain twinge of regret in his heart when the door closed behind him, dragging him back to his sullen existence. The girl bounced up the stairs ahead of him and he trudged along, dragging several bags heavy with money. The hustle and bustle of the bank consumed both of them when they reached upstairs and he breathed a little bit easier, settling into the plan once more.

John told her to walk beside him and they strolled out of the bank with hundreds and thousands of dollars as if it was no big deal. Through all of it, he couldn’t stop staring at his masterpiece. All he wished for was to make her gag on his cock and maybe share her with people as devious as he was, but instead he had to focus on the boring bank robbery and the plight of his existence, both of which were a lot less fun.

The Texas heat hit him like a mallet in the face when they stepped out of the bank and started heading down the street, Rosy skipping merrily beside the sullen warlock.

“What now, Master?” she asked, looking around at the buildings and cars with the curiosity of a child. John shrugged slightly, taking a general direction towards the bus station.

“Now we get the hell out of Texas, Rosy.”