The Turkey and the Bimbo
She had to get out of there, Francine knew. She had to get out of there before it was too late.
Francine grabbed her purse and her cell phone.
What if it was already too late, she asked herself.
No! Don’t say that. It couldn’t be too late because if it was, why was she doing what she was doing.
For a moment, Francine hesitated. Why was she doing what she was doing?
She caught herself. No, that was the wrong question, and more to the point, she knew why she was doing what she was doing. They’d given her a drug or something. She had to get to a doctor. She had to find a way to counteract it.
She stood at the elevator as she waited impatiently for the car to come to the floor. “Come on,” she wanted to shout. “Come on. Get here. Get here now.”
Of course, yelling was the last thing she wanted to do. Yelling would draw attention to herself and she didn’t want to draw attention to herself.
Her cell phone rang. “Hello?”
“Francine,” said the male voice on the other end of the line. “Where are you?
Francine’s grip tightened on the phone. “I’m getting away,” she said. “I’m getting away from you.”
“Really? And why would that be?”
“You know damn well why that is. I heard you guys talking.”
“Oh come now, Francine. You didn’t really take us seriously, did you.”
She didn’t really ...
At just that moment, the elevator doors opened and the ding of the bell was enough to snap her out of her reverie. She pushed her way past the mail boy who was trying to enter the elevator even as she tried to leave it. “Nice try,” she told the man on the other end of the line, “but it isn’t going to work,” and with that, she disconnected the line.
Francine looked at the mail boy. “What are you waiting for?” she demanded. “Get off.”
The boy complied and Francine pressed the button and the doors started to close.
They seemed to take forever. At any moment, someone might stick a hand between the doors. At any moment, someone might come and block her escape.
But no one did and so Francine made it to the garage and to her waiting Benz.
As soon as she was out of the parking garage, she had her cell phone in her hand and she was dialing information. “What number?” the voice at the other end asked.
“Dr. Victoria Kael,” she said.
“Yes. We have that number. Would you like us to connect you? If so, please press one.”
Damn right she wanted them to connect her. Francine pressed one.
Francine pressed one, and nothing happened. Nothing happened that is until a man’s voice came on the line. “You didn’t think we’d let you get away that easily?” the man said.
“Bastard. Fuck you. What’d you do to my phone?”
“Let’s just say you won’t be talking to anyone we don’t want you to talk to,” the man said. “Now why don’t you come here and we can talk it over.”
“Fuck you.”
“That’s not exactly the answer we were hoping for.”
“Yeah well, you know what? Fuck you. I’m not coming back and you can’t make me.”
“I’m sorry to hear you say that, Francine.”
“Why?”
“I just am,” and with that, the line went dead.
Fuck it. She didn’t need the cell phone anyway. She’d just drive to Vicki’s office and Vicki would just have to see her, even if she was a walk-in. After all, this was an emergency.
Her phone rang again and without even thinking, Francine answered it.
“Are you sure you won’t come back?” asked the man at the other end of the line.
“Why won’t you leave me alone?”
“I would,” the man said, “but I was wondering, have you looked at yourself recently?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. I was just wondering.”
“Why?”
“I think maybe you should look at yourself.”
“Why?”
The man just chuckled at that. “You’re a smart girl,” he said. “Why don’t you figure that one out for yourself,” and with that, the line went dead.
He wanted her to look at herself, Francine realized. She probably shouldn’t and yet she just had to know. As soon as she could, she pulled her car over to the side of the road and she looked in the mirror.
Oh my God! Her hair. What had at one time been a full black head of hair was now streaked with lighter shades and even as she looked, Francine had the feeling that it was getting lighter as she watched.
Oh my God! No! It couldn’t be. She had to see Victoria now.
Her phone rang again.
“Hello.”
“Are you almost here?”
Francine’s hand tightened around her phone. “Am I almost where?” she asked.
“Are you almost here to Dr. Kael’s office.”
“What?”
“I told her I was having second thoughts about letting you drive yourself, but I told her you insisted.”
Francine’s grip held her phone even tighter. “What did you tell her?” she demanded.
“Just that we were worried about you and that we’d see you when you got here.”
“Bastard,” the woman cried out.
“Does that mean you’re not coming?”
“Fuck you.”
“I guess she’s not coming,” the man said as if he was speaking to someone off to the side.
Francine cut the connection. Damn. What was she going to do now?
The thing that worried her most was that she didn’t have an answer to that question. She was used to making snap decisions on little or no information and she was used to being right, but now, now what was she supposed to do?
She’d just have to find someone else who could help her but the question was who? This was her life she was talking about and she trusted her doctor but if they could co-opt her doctor then who knew what else they could do.
Francine stopped at a red light and she took the opportunity to bend her rear view mirror over to take a look at herself.
Oh my God!
She just couldn’t believe it. She had to run a hand through her hair just to make sure that the image she saw was actually her. It was, only her once black hair was now nearly totally blond. This was serious, she told herself. There was no time to dawdle around. She had to do something now.
The car behind her honked and Francine guiltily took her attention away from the image in the mirror.
She had to do something, she told herself again.
Yeah, but what?
Almost absentmindedly, she ran her hand across her chest. There was something wrong, she thought. Her breasts hurt. Why did her breasts hurt?
What the hell was the matter with her? She had to find someone could help her?
Okay. Doctors. If she couldn’t go to her own doctor, what about a hospital. They’d have emergency rooms. They’d be prepared for something like this.
Wouldn’t they?
The only problem was she had only the vaguest idea of where the nearest hospital was.
So call 911 and tell them ... and tell them what. That she had an emergency. That her tits hurt. That ... no wait. That wasn’t it. That wasn’t her emergency.
The only thing was her tits did hurt.
No. That wasn’t it. It was that they’d injected her with something. That was it. They’d brought her into a room. It was supposed to be for an interview for a promotion. That was it. They’d brought her into this room, but then before she knew what was happening, these goons had shown up and ...
And they’d held her down and that’s when her boss had shown up. She was a little too full of herself, he’d told her, but they knew how to handle women like her, he’d told her and that’s when he’d produced the syringe.
What the hell was he going to do with that, she’d wanted to know. Even in the position she was now in, she couldn’t believe he was going to actually use it on her.
He was going to turn her into a bimbo, he’d said.
Yeah right. You couldn’t do something like that, she’d snapped back at him.
He could, he told her, and Francine remembered the way she’d felt at that moment. There was just something in the way he said it that made her believe that he might actually be able to do it, and that’s when she really started to get scared.
“Hold her down,” he’d told the goons and they’d done exactly that.
She’d struggled but it was all to no avail. The goons held her tight and she was unable to move.
“I’m going to scream,” she’d told them.
“Go ahead,” her boss had told her.
And so she had and then she screamed again and again, but no one came.
“The room’s sound proofed,” her boss had told her.
“Please don’t,” she said.
“Don’t what?”
She hadn’t wanted to beg but she’d been forced to do it. “Don’t inject me with that?”
“Don’t inject you with what?”
She’d looked at the syringe in the man’s hand. “Don’t inject me with that,” she’d said.
“That? What’s that? That tells me nothing. What do you want me to do?”
Francine had looked at the syringe in the man’s hand. “Don’t inject me with that,” she’d pleaded again. “Don’t inject me with that drug.”
“With that bimbo making drug.”
Francine had nodded.
“Say it. Say what you want.”
“Don’t inject me with that bimbo making drug.”
“You forgot to say please.”
“Please,” Francine had corrected herself. “Please.”
“It’s too late now.”
“No please. Please don’t do it.”
“Don’t worry. This won’t hurt a bit.”
“I said please,” Francine had begged. “Please. Please don’t.”
“Hold her down, boys.”
“God damn it. Stop it. Don’t do it. I’ll tell everyone what you did,” Francine had raged. “I’ll make sure you get to sent to prison forever and ever. God damn it. Don’t inject me with that stuff.”
But he’d injected her anyway.
And she still remembered.
She’d be going to the cops soon enough but first, she needed to find a hospital where they could counteract whatever they’d done to her.
Her cell phone rang.
“Hello?”
“How’s my newest bimbo doing?”
“I’m not your bimbo,” Francine shot back.
“Oh really? So who’s bimbo are you?”
“I’m not anyone’s bimbo.”
“Oh come on, Frankie—”
“Don’t call me that?”
“Don’t call you what?”
“Don’t call me Frankie. My name’s Francine.”
“But Frankie. A bimbo needs a bimbo name and Francine just doesn’t seem to cut it. Frankie’s a much better name for a bimbo.”
He was right. Frankie was a much better name for a bimbo ... no wait. Oh very clever. He wanted her to start thinking of herself as Frankie. Then she’d start thinking of herself as a bimbo. Yeah right, but she wasn’t going to fall for his trick. “Nice try,” she told the man.
“Nice try, Frankie?”
“Yeah nice try, but I’m not falling for your tricks.”
“It’s not a trick, Frankie. By the way, how are your tits?”
“What about them?”
“They should be getting bigger, Frankie.”
“I told you to stop calling me that.”
“Stop calling you what?”
“I told you to stop calling me Frankie. My name is Francine.”
“Whatever you say Frankie, but you haven’t answered my tits. How are your tits?”
“What about them?”
“They must be getting bigger now.”
“They’re not getting bigger,” Frankie said.
“Of course they are. Of course how could they not get bigger. What’d you have before? Kind of hard to tell in those business suits you liked to wear.”
“That’s none of your business.”
“Why Frankie. That’s a terrible thing to say. I’m only trying to look after your best interests.”
Frankie said nothing.
“Your bra must be rather inadequate right now for your tits. If I were you, I’d take it off.”
“Well you’re not me.”
The man on the other end of the line chuckled. “Can’t disagree with you there, Frankie. After all, I have a brain and I’m likely to keep it, and the same most likely cannot be said for you,” and with that, the line went dead.
It didn’t take long for Frankie to pull her car over to the side of the road. She might not have wanted to admit it to her boss, but her titties really were starting to hurt her and she couldn’t help but wonder. In moments, she’d slipped her jacket off and then she’d opened her blouse and ...
And oh my God. Her tits were huge. Never in her wildest imaginings had she thought she’d have tits as big as these.
She wondered what it would feel like to have a guy slide his cock between her tits.
Wait a minute. This wasn’t right. These really weren’t her tits.
Mmm, but they sure felt like her tits and the more she ran her hands over her tits, the more she started to think of them as her tits and even if they weren’t hers before, they were certainly hers now.
She was interrupted in her reverie by someone knocking on the window of her car.
Frankie looked up to find a man peering into her car and it took her a moment to realize that he was watching her play with her tits and she wasn’t sure why but for some reason, this turned her on. She lowered the window and she looked at the man. “Can I help you?” she asked.
The guy looked right at her tits before he finally looked up at her. “I think maybe it’s the other way around,” he said. “I think maybe I can help you.”
What a jerk, Frankie thought. Sure, if he was kind of cute, or something, that might have been a nice offer, but heck the guy was kind of plain and if she wanted to be honest about it, he was kind of on the low side of plain. “I think I’m fine,” she said.
The man just shrugged. “The way you’re playing with those tits of yours, I just thought maybe I could help.”
And that’s when Frankie realized she was still playing with her tits. Wait a minute. Why was she still playing with her tits. “I don’t need your help,” she said petulantly.
“Okay, suit yourself, but you know, you can’t go out in public without a top on.”
He was right. She couldn’t go out without a top on.
No wait. What was she saying. She needed to get to a hospital. Oh geez. That was the drug talking. That was the drug making her stupid. Oh geez. It was getting worse.
But he was right. She couldn’t go out in public like this.
Would you stop playing with your tits, Frankie told herself.
“Looks like you need some help. What’s your name?”
“Fr-frankie.” Wait a minute. Why had she said that. She’d meant to say ... she’d meant to say something else. That was silly of her. How could she not know her own name?
“Well, Fr-frankie, my name’s Tom, and I can tell you something right now. That bra you’re holding. There’s no way you’re going to be able to squeeze those tits of yours into that.”
That was smart, Frankie thought. No, it wasn’t. That was obvious. There was nothing smart about that. “These aren’t my tits,” she said.
The man looked at her. “I don’t know,” he said. “They sure look like your tits. If they’re not your tits, whose tits are they?”
“Huh?”
“You said they weren’t your tits. So whose tits are they?”
“Mr. Bradley’s.”
“Who’s Mr. Bradley?”
“He’s my boss.”
Tom seemed to tense. “Fucking bosses,” he muttered. “He gave those to you?”
“Huh?”
“Your boss? What did he do? Pay for the fuckin’ implants. Is that it?”
“What?”
“Your boss paid for those tits. How many times did you have to suck his cock to get those?”
Now it was Frankie’s turn to be confused. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t suck his dick.”
“You fucked him then.”
Frankie was getting even more flustered now. “Fucked who?”
“You fucked your boss.”
“I did not,” she said angrily. “I told him I wasn’t going to do that.”
“So you’re saying your boss just told you he’d do that for free.”
“Do what?”
“Give you those stupid implants.”
“What implants?”
“The ones in your chest.”
“I don’t have any implants.”
“But I thought—”
“These are all real,” Frankie said proudly. She wasn’t sure why she was suddenly showing her tits off to the man but she was sure she wanted him to know they were real.
“But I thought you said your boss gave them to you.”
“He did.”
“What?”
“He did give them to me.”
Now it was Tom’s turn to look confused. “I don’t get it. How did your boss give you these tits?”
“He gave me this injection.”
“He gave you an injection?”
“Uh huh.”
Tom shook his head. Fucking bosses. Always taking advantage of the little person, like him. Okay, so he’d been late a few times to work and so he’d taken a bit longer at lunch than he was supposed to, but was that any reason to fire him? Hell no.
Fucking bosses and now here was this girl’s boss telling her that he could give her big tits with just an injection. He wasn’t no fucking doctor, but he was pretty damn sure you couldn’t give a girl big tits just by giving her an injection. Of course, as dumb as this one appeared to be, maybe you could make her think you could.
Wait a minute. What was she doing here, Frankie asked herself. She’d been on her way to ... to ... oh yeah, to the hospital when she’d noticed her boobies had started to hurt and then this guy had come and tapped on her window. “Listen, I got to go.”
“Yeah? Where you going?”
“I gotta go to the hospital.”
“The hospital? Why do you have to go to the hospital?”
Wasn’t that obvious, Frankie asked herself. She’d already told the guy that her boss had injected her with something so wasn’t it obvious that she had to get it out. Sheesh.
“Why do you have to go to the hospital?” Tom asked again.
“I already told you. I have to get the injection out.”
“You have to get the injection out?” asked an obviously confused Tom.
Frankie nodded and yet even as she did, she couldn’t help but think that there was something wrong with the way she said that.
Tom looked at her and he started to smile. “You know what,” he said. “I think maybe we can help each other out.”
“How?” Frankie asked suspiciously.
“Well, if they’ve injected you with something, the hospital’s not going to be able to get that out of your bloodstream.”
“They can’t.” God, why did she all of the sudden sound so helpless and whiny, Frankie wondered.
“’Fraid not,” the man said, “but I know a way you can do it.”
“How?”
“What you need is vigorous exercise, something that would get the blood really flowing and then the body will get rid of the drug on it’s own.”
“You mean like running?”
“That’s not exactly the exercise I had in mind.”
“What then?” God. Why did she sound like such a fucking airhead and yet, she couldn’t think of anything else that she could say.
The man was opening her car door.
“Hey, what are you doing?”
“You got a nice place to live?”
“What?”
“I asked if you lived in a nice place,” the man said. “Do you?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Then we’ll go to your place.”
“Why?”
“Because my place is a fuckin’ dump.”
“No. That’s not what I meant. What I was asking is why we’re going anywhere?”
“Because you wanted me to help you out.”
“I thought I was going to the hospital.”
“They can’t do anything for you now. You know that.”
No, that wasn’t right, and yet it was right. She was so confused.
“We’ll go to your place,” Tom told her, “and I’ll help you get that stuff out of your system.”
“Oh. Um, okay.”
“You do want to get that out of your system, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Then don’t worry. We’ll handle it.”
Her cell phone rang while she was driving Tom back to her apartment. “Hello?”
“Hey, Frankie.”
Frankie’s hand tightened around the cell phone. “What do you want?”
“I want to know how my newest bimbo is doing?”
“I’m not your bimbo.”
“Now, Frankie.”
“Don’t now Frankie me. I’m going back to my place to get that stuff out of me.”
“To get what stuff out of you?”
“You know. To get the stuff you injected in me.”
The man on the other end of the line chuckled. “Now, Frankie. You’re just being silly. You can’t get that out of you.”
“I can to. I found someone who can help me do it.”
“What?”
Ha, Frankie thought. He sounded worried. That meant she was on the right track. “I got someone here who says he can help me.”
“Frankie.”
“Good bye,” and with that, Frankie hung up the phone.
“Who was that? Was that your boss?”
“Uh huh.”
The phone rang again.
“Don’t answer that,” Tom said.
The phone rang again.
“Why not?”
The phone rang again.
“Because it’s going to make him mad. You want to make him mad, don’t you?”
The phone rang yet again.
Frankie giggled. “Yeah,” she said. “I want to make him mad.”
“Then don’t answer it.”
Frankie giggled again. “I can’t,” she said.
“You can’t what?”
“I can’t answer it.”
“Why not?”
“Because, silly, it’s stopped ringing.”
Tom nodded. “You’re right. So it has.”
The phone started to ring again.
“What are we going to do?” Tom asked.
“Um, not answer it.”
“There you go.”
“This is my place,” Frankie said as she finally led Tom to her apartment.
The man was looking around him. “Nice place,” he said. “You make a lot of money?”
“I, um, I don’t know.”
“What do you mean you don’t know?”
“I mean I don’t remember. So how are you going to help me get the stuff out?”
“First, we have to get you out of your clothes.”
“My clothes?”
“Yeah, your clothes.”
“Why?”
“We just do. Now you’ve taken off your blouse and you’ve removed your bra so we’re already a good ways there, but now we have to take off your skirt.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not.”
“The zipper’s stuck.”
“What do you mean the zipper’s stuck?”
“It just is. Look.”
“Geez. You shouldn’t wear your skirts so tight.”
“I don’t think it was this tight this morning.”
“What?”
“I don’t think it was this tight this morning.”
“All right. Let me have a go at it.”
Tom worked at the zipper and finally, he got it to go down.
“There you go,” he said. “You see why we had to get you out of those clothes. Any longer and you’d have been stuck in that.”
Frankie nodded. She could see that.
“Nice ass,” the man said appreciatively. “And now the hose.”
Frankie lowered her hose.
“And finally the panties.”
And off came her panties and when they did, Frankie stood there naked. “So what are we going to do now?”
“Well first of all, we’re going to have to get you down on your knees.”
“Why?”
“Because you need to help me out first.”
“Did someone put something in you, too?”
“What? No.”
“So why am I getting down on my knees?”
“You’ll see. Just get down on your knees.”
Frankie did as she was told to do.
“Now the first thing you need to do is you need to get my cock out of my pants.”
“Why?”
“You know this would go a whole lot easier if you didn’t keep asking me why. I’m trying to help you, you know.”
“Sorry.”
“Well okay, but next time, you just do what I say, okay?”
“Okay.”
“All right. The first thing you’re going to do is unzip my pants and take out my cock.”
Frankie did as she was told to do.
“Now, you’re going to have to suck on it.”
“I told you. I don’t do that.”
“It’s important. You want to get that stuff out of you, don’t you?”
Frankie nodded.
“Then you got to do it.”
Still, Frankie was reluctant.
“Here. I’ll help you,” the man said. “You’ve already got your hand around my cock so you don’t mind holding it, do you?”
Frankie shook her head.
“And you probably don’t mind stroking it either.”
Again, Frankie shook her head.
“So let’s see you stroke it.”
She looked at Tom almost as if she was wondering if she’d heard him right.
“Go on,” he encouraged her.
She started tentatively at first and then she proceeded with more and more intensity.
“Oh fuck,” Tom groaned. “Oh fuck. That’s it. Now spit on it.”
“What?”
“Spit on it.”
“Why?”
“Oh fuck. Cause it will go smoother if you do. Just do it. Spit on it.”
Frankie seemed to hesitate but then she did it.
“How’s that feel? Does your hand slide easier now?”
Frankie nodded.
“Then you know what you’re going to have to do now.”
Frankie stared at Tom’s cock and then she nodded. Slowly, her mouth opened and before she knew it, she was sucking her very first cock.
“Oh fuck,” the man groaned. “Oh fuck. You do that so well.”
Frankie didn’t say anything. She just kept sucking the man’s cock.
“You keep doing that and I assure you we’ll get whatever it was they injected you with, we’ll get that stuff out of you in nothing flat.”
Frankie didn’t say anything but there was the slightest of nods.
“Damn girl. I got something else for you to try.”
Frankie pulled her mouth back and she looked up at the man. “What?” she asked.
“I want you to push your tits together.”
“Why?”
“Really? Are we going to do this again? I thought I told you not to keep asking why.”
“Sorry.”
“No you’re not. If you were really sorry, you wouldn’t keep doing it. I have half a mind to leave you like you are now.”
“No, please don’t go.”
“You going to do what you’re told to do?”
Frankie nodded.
“And no arguing, right?”
Frankie shook her head.
“All right then. Push those tits together.”
This time, Frankie pushed her tits together and she didn’t say a word as Tom slid his cock between her mounds.
“Oh my God,” the man groaned. “Oh my God. This is so fucking good. I can’t fucking believe it. This is so fucking good.”
“What’s this supposed to do?”
“Huh?”
“How’s this supposed to help me with my problem?”
“How’s what ... oh, um, this is just the preparation.”
“Preparation for what?”
“That’s a good question,” Tom said. “Why don’t you get down on your hands and knees and I’ll show you what comes next.”
It didn’t take Frankie long to learn what came next and she couldn’t help but moan over and over again as the man’s cock continued to take her over and over again and when it seemed as if she needed a rest, Tom would simply reminded her that there were here to give her a good workout and she didn’t want him to stop did she and always, the response would be the same. “I want you to do it,” she’d tell the man. “I want you to do it. I want you to fuck that stuff out of me.”
And Tom’s response was always the same. He’d just smack her on the ass and he’d tell her if that was what she wanted, then that was what he was going to do for her.
“Oh fuck,” the man groaned and then he pulled out of her.
“Is it done?” Frankie asked.
“Fuck no. Turn around.”
“What?”
“I said turn around.”
“Why?”
“Don’t argue. Just do it.”
Frankie didn’t argue. She just turned around.
“Push your tits together,” the man groaned.
Frankie did that too.
“Tell me you want me to cum on your tits,” the man groaned.
“Why?”
“Don’t argue. Just do it.”
Frankie didn’t argue. She just looked up at the man even as she held her tits together. “I want you to cum on me,” she said. “I want you to cum on my tits.
“Oh yeah,” the man said. “Say it again. Say it again and really make me believe it.”
“Please, mister. I really want you to cum on my tits.”
“Oh geez yeah. Again.”
“I really want you to cum on my tits.”
“Oh fuck,” the man groaned and in the next instant, his cock was doing it. In the next instant, he was cumming on her tits.
“So is it over with? Is it out of me?”
Tom smiled. “I don’t know. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”
“But I thought you said it was going to be gone.
“I said I knew how to get rid of it but this might require multiple treatments.”
“That’s not fair,” Frankie pouted.
“What’s not fair?”
“You said you were going to get that stuff out of me.”
“And I will,” the man promised, “even if I have to keep fucking you over and over again to do it. I’ll get it out of you.”
“Do you promise?”
“Honey,” the man said, “I’ll fuck you for as long as you want me to.”