The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

BimboTech: Wiggle Room

By The Sympathetic Devil <>

Part Two: Amateur Night

The van pulled into the empty parking lot of the closed ‘Wiggle Room’. Gretchen had spent a lot of time on the sidewalk there, but had never crossed onto the property. She was still only vaguely aware of where she was, though, so the familiar landmark seemed comforting. Gretchen was all about being comfortable at that moment.

Etuate drove the van around to the back of the club and killed the engine. Jim opened the door and Gretchen poured out. Standing was a little difficult, as her knees felt very weak and her head felt very wobbly, but Jim was there to help keep her up with his nice, strong hands. Good ol’ Jim!

Etuate helped the other girls out of the back. They were still giggling and groping one another. Several articles of clothing were missing. Jerica was completely naked, with several hickies forming at various places on her pale body. Gretchen giggled at the sight.

Jim led them all into the club. It was dark, but not too dark. The smells were strange and unidentifiable. They had entered through the performers entrance and they passed a large open dressing room with a big mirror. Gretchen barely recognized the disheveled, grinning girl on Jim’s arm, and giggled when she realized it was herself.

They came to the big, open main room, with little tables and three raised stages, each with a big brass pole in the middle. There was a bar at one end and a handsome Spaniard behind the bar.

“Jaime! Thanks for coming! These ladies are my guests! The drinks are on me…and make sure that you aren’t stingy!” Jim announced.

“Not stingy with all of them boss?” Jaime asked.

“As generous as you can be, my friend!” Jim clarified. “I’m in a very generous mood! But, you know, with the cheep stuff. No sense breaking the bank. They won’t know the difference anyway.”

The bartender grinned wickedly and motioned the ladies toward him with both hands. Soon each girl had a drink. Some had two. Etuate turned on the sound system and the spotlights and soon a party was brewing.

Once Gretchen had her rum & coke in hand, Jim took her aside.

“I hate to tell you this, Gretch, but you’ve got a pretty noticeable wet spot from our game earlier.

Gretchen looked down and saw that the crotch of her khakis was a lot darker than the rest of her pants.

“Oh my God!” she exclaimed, then snorted and giggled. She had come down enough to be a bit embarrassed, but still found her predicament hilarious.

“Don’t worry!” Jim told her. “I’m sure there’s something tasteful in the dressing room we can put you in. Something that’ll be more flattering to that clever little ass of yours, too!”

He placed a friendly hand on said ass and directed her out of the main room. Gretchen giggled and sipped at her drink. It burned going down, but not in a bad way. What could possibly be bad on a night like this?

In the dressing room, Gretchen was again confronted with her own reflection. She had never thought of her self as particularly pretty, but with big, stupid smile on her face and wide, glazed green eyes, she decided she was actually pretty cute. And Jim seemed to think so too! It was a delightful revelation, and she giggled and waved at herself in the mirror. Her reflection waved back, which was, of course, hilarious.

“Now, I think you’d look just lovely in something like this,” Jim announced.

Gretchen turned to see he was holding a tiny skirt and halter top covered with shiny green sequins.

“See? It matches you’re eyes!” he said, holding it up to her face.

Gretchen had never worn so little, but he was right about it matching her eyes. And she couldn’t go around with her pants wet.

Remembering how her pants hand gotten wet made her giggle, blush, and make them a bit wetter. She had no idea she was capable of climaxing like that! And just from being tickled!

“Why don’t I help you get out of those,” Jim suggested, coming around behind her and reaching around her waist to undo her pants. The smell of her arousal filled the small dressing room as he pulled her damp pants and sodden panties down around her knees.

Gretchen shuddered and giggled.

“Are you…wanna tickle me again?” she asked hopefully.

“Would you like that Gretchen?” Jim asked, grinning at her in the mirror from over her shoulder.

Gretchen nodded her head vigorously.

Jim stuck a finger in her armpit and tickled. She squealed and squirmed, nearly falling over with her pants-bound legs, but once he stopped, she pouted.

“No, not my armpit!” she insisted. “Like before… in my <giggle>…in my vagina.”

“Vagina?” Jim said. “What am I, your gynecologist? Vagina’s don’t get tickled. Twat’s get tickled. So do coozes, cunts and pussies. Now what do you want me to tickle?”

He traced a finger around her nipple and her knees went weak.

“Mm..m..m..my twat!” she said. “Tickle my twat!”

“PLEASE, Gretchen,” he said, another finger stroking just below her navel. “You need to ask nicely.”

“PLEASE tickle my twat!” she begged.

“That’s a good girl!” he said, and dropped his hand down to her crotch, deftly fingering her as she once again was overcome by agonizing ecstasy. He had to hold her up as she lost control of her trembling limbs, giggling and babbling and squealing.

And then he stopped.

“No! No!” she pled. “More! I need more!”

“My my my!” said Jim. “You can’t get enough, can you? You’ve already come once tonight, Gretchen. I’m starting to think you’re greedy!”

“But….but…” she panted, eyes wild. “I like it!”

“Well that’s good, but if you want to come again, you’re going to do it in your new outfit.” Jim said.

Gretchen of course agreed. She was greedy. It just felt so good! It made everything all right! It drown out that annoying, confusing voice in the back of her head that kept telling her she shouldn’t be having so much fun and feeling so good. She did as she was told and let Jim dress her in the tiny green sequined outfit. It was made of some synthetic fabric that hugged her thin frame closely, the skirt barely stretching the length of her hips, the halter top obviously meant for a bigger girl, but draping nicely along her modest bust. She wore no panties, of course. They would only get in the way.

“Now will you tickle me?” she asked as soon as the top was pulled over her head.

“Shoes too!” Jim insisted. “And maybe….oh yes, that’s just the thing!”

He strode across the room and returned with a long, curly wig of synthetic red hair. He also brought a pair of sandals with yellow plastic straps and towering clear acrylic heels. Gretchen gave no objections. She was focused on her need to come. If she needed shoes and a wig to do it, then to hell with the confusing objections the voice in the back of her head was making. What did it know?

“Now that is a girl who is ready to play tickle twat!” Jim announced once the wig was securely in place, cascading down her back and along her shoulders.

The horny, wild-eyed girl in the mirror certainly looked nothing like the head of the college feminists. Clearly, Gretchen agreed, this was a girl with one thing on her mind. And once she got it, even that wasn’t on her mind as she lost all illusion of sanity as the onslaught of probing, tickling fingers began in earnest. She squealed and squirmed, screamed and shuddered, giggled and wiggled as the world spun faster and faster around her head.

And then the spinning world exploded as she came and came and came again. All her muscles declared a holiday and she slumped to the floor, cushioned only by the pink fog that had enveloped her mind. She lay there in a pile, giggling softly to herself, wondering if the room would ever stop spinning but not particularly caring.

And then, an eternity later, someone was picking her up. Propping her up, really. She found her self being hauled by strong arms around her waist and then draping her over the arm of a couch. Her little skirt got hiked up around her hips and then someone slapped her ass. That brought her a little bit out of her fog, enough to make her look over her shoulder and her elevated ass to see Jim with his pants around his ankles and his dick long and hard.

Gretchen’s eyes went wide. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was planning on fucking her.

But rather than his dick, he came at her with his thumb. And rather than her twat, that he had just tickled so nicely, she discovered he was aiming for her asshole, smearing it with something thick and greasy.

The implications of that was enough to make that voice in her head yell loud enough through the pink fog that she jerked and rolled off the arm of the couch, falling on her bare ass and looking up at a startled Jim holding a jar of petroleum jelly with his hard dick pointing at her.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Gretchen asked. “I never said you could… you could…you know!”

“My you are greedy, aren’t you Gretchen?” he replied. “You’ve come twice already and I haven’t come at all! Now get that skinny little ass back here and pay me back!”

For a moment, she hesitated. He had been so nice. Everything had felt so nice when he had done it. It was only fair…

But no! She remembered a scathing rebuke she had given to her freshman-year boyfriend when he had suggested it. And though that seemed like an entirely different girl who had said it, Gretchen repeated it, as it seemed to make sense.

“Why don’t I put on a strap on and fuck your asshole?” she asked. “How would you like that?”

“Because you don’t have a strap on, silly girl,” said Jim. “And I’ve got a perfectly usable dick right here all ready for you.”

That irrefutable logic completely knocked the wind out of her argument. She screwed her face up and said, “huh?”

“Look, I can see you’re confused,” Jim said. “Not feeling as good as you were a moment ago. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable, Gretchen. I want us to be friends! So lets put this away…”

He managed to fit his hard-n back into his pants. Gretchen relaxed more once it was out of site.

“And let’s go into my office,” he said. “I’ve got something in there I think you’ll like.”

He helped her up off the floor and helped her smooth down her skirt. He really was very nice, though something in the back of her head was still saying he wasn’t. It was all very confusing. Her knees were still weak and she was glad to have him supporting her, guiding her into his small, cluttered office adjacent to the dressing room.

He turned on a desk lamp, leaving the overhead light off. From his desk drawer, her retreated a long, thin cylinder with a nozzle and LED on one end. Gretchen recognized it.

“Hey! That’s the snake! Mr. Blinky!” she exclaimed.

“Actually, this is his twin brother,” Jim exclaimed. “And he comes with an attachment!”

“Huh?” Gretchen asked, as Jim retrieved a length of tubing and a clear plastic mask. He attached the tube to the nozzle and then slipped the mask over Gretchen’s nose and mouth, strapping it to her head.

“But what’s this for?” she asked as he pushed a button on a remote control and a vaguely familiar odor like cotton candy filled her nose.

The red LED started blinking. So did Gretchen. She started to feel, very, very good. The annoying voice in the back of her head stopped yelling at her. It seemed to be feeling very good too. It started singing the theme song to Sesame Street.

Gretchen stated to giggle. It felt good, so she saw no reason to stop. Jim smiled at her and she smiled back. He was nice, the mask was nice, her outfit was nice, the desk was nice, giggling was nice. Nice, nice, nice.

“Now isn’t that much better?” Jim asked.

Giggling Gretchen nodded her agreement.

“You don’t mind if I fuck you up the ass now, do you?” he asked.

She found that she didn’t. She didn’t mind at all. It would be nice. Everything was nice. She shrugged and shook her head and kept on giggling.

“I was hoping you’d feel that way!” Jim exclaimed.

Then he bent her over his desk, pulled up her skirt and finished greasing her asshole. It felt nice. Gretchen liked it.

And then his hard dick was sliding between her ass cheeks, pushing against her hole. It wasn’t easy. It hurt a little, but in a nice way. Gretchen twitched and giggled and breathed in the sweet wonderfulness coming out of the cylinder.

Jim grabbed hold of her hips and started pushing in and out and in and out. With every stroke, it was easier. And nicer. Her head bobbed along with Jim’s rhythm, feeling like it might pop off and float away with every inward thrust. That would be nice, she thought. As her head floated away, she would be able to look down and see what it looked like to be fucked up the ass. The voice in her head started singing The Sound of Music.

And then Jim was coming, pumping her full of hot goo. Just to be neighborly, Gretchen came too, though it was hard to be certain if she was coming or going. All sorts of things were going on inside her, but she was already feeling as nice as she possibly could.

Jim pulled out of her, which was nice, and jism ran down her legs, which was also nice. He sat her up on the desk, turned off the cylinder and took of the mask. That wasn’t so nice, but it didn’t bother Gretchen so much. She was still feeling wonderful, still giggling, still on top of the world.

“Now let’s go see how you’re little friends are doing,” Jim suggested.

That would be nice, Gretchen agreed. She nodded to tell him so, because she couldn’t stop giggling.

The party was in full swing there in the main room. The sound system was blasting out a base-heavy mix of three-minute songs. Several girls were up on the stages, swinging around the poles. Others were drinking and yelling out meaningless conversation to each other. Jerica was wearing a bikini made of whipped cream and Robyn kept licking it off and then spraying it back on from an aerosol can. Chelsea was wearing nothing but her glasses. The large-breasted blond was lying naked on the bar while Jaime the bartender poured shots directly into her mouth with one hand and mauled her boobs with the other. Etuate, the big Tongan bouncer, was chatting with the girls and taking their pictures. They all posed with great enthusiasm.

“Hey! It’s Gretchen!” Tabitha yelled out from her position hanging upside down on the stage, naked from hips to toes, her legs wrapped around the brass pole, her silken hair swinging.

The girls squealed their delight at their leaders return and her new outfit. Gretchen giggled and waved, hanging on Jim’s arm as she wasn’t quite sure if she could stand on her own.

“Hey! I wanna wear stripper cloths!” April proclaimed.

“Yeah, how come she’s the only one that gets to play dress up?” Robyn asked.

“Girls!” Jim exclaimed. “There are plenty of outfits for everyone! Come on back to the dressing room! Jaime and Etuate can help get you all dressed up, then we’ll take more pictures! Since Gretchen is your leader, she can help you chose your outfits! Then we’ll take more pictures, won’t that be fun?”

The girls cheered and headed back to the dressing room. Jim led Gretchen back to the dressing room, her giggling, envious followers trailing behind. Everyone loved her and she loved everyone. Jism drizzled from her buttcrack and ran down the inside of her thighs, making her giggle. She wasn’t sure if her feet were touching the floor or not.

Jaime helped Chelsea off the bar and helped her weave back with an arm around her waist. All the girls were tipsy, but Chelsea was completely plastered and grinning like an idiot. Jaime was grinning as well, but much more wolfishly.

In the mirrored dressing room, Jim sat her in a chair and she sprawled comfortably, her legs spread wide, displaying her cooze beneath the tiny green skirt. She had a hard time holding her head steady, and she saw her giddy minions filling the room as if filmed by an amatuer cameraman with the shakes. They were all very pretty, but Gretchen was the prettiest. Jim had told her so. And it was her ass that he wanted. She giggled with pride.

“Now Gretchen, I’m going to go make a few phone calls and have some more nice men come play,” he informed her. “Etuate and Jaime will help the girls get dressed, but I’m leaving you in charge, since you’re the leader and you’re so very clever!”

Gretchen giggled, blushed, beamed and nodded. He patted her bubble-filled head.

“You just supervise things and make sure all your girls look their best,” Jim continued.

“Jaime, Etuate,” he said in a much less saccharine voice. “Get the bimbos tarted up. I think our VIPs deserve a reward for their loyalty. Plus I want a lot more pictures taken. You can enjoy the fruits of our labor once you’ve got them looking like real Wiggle Room girls.”

And then Jim was gone, but that was fine. There were lots of pretty clothes and pretty shoes and all the girls were playing dress up. And Gretchen was there for all to see, sitting oh-so-ladylike on her throne, supervising the bedizenment of her feminist club. They squealed and giggled as they explored the array of lace and latex, leather and lycra, each picking out what suited them best with the help of one another and the seasoned professionalism of Etuate and Jaime.

Tabitha was the first girl dressed and the pretty Asian coed made the sweetest valentine anyone could hope for, even if it was March. It began with tiny red plastic hearts that dangled on silver chains from her earlobes. A white lace choker with a red heart adorned her neck. Heart-shaped red pasties crowned her nipples, making her slight bust seem larger somehow. Her cooze was covered by a tiny red satin heart trimmed in white lace. It was held in place by white lace straps that rode high on her hips and when Tabitha pranced about in a little circle, Gretchen saw that they fastened with a little red plastic button, heart-shaped, to the thong that disappeared between her ass cheeks. On her feet were red plastic platforms with clear plastic tops that showed of the red heart stickers she that adorned each dainty toenail.

Gretchen applauded Tabitha’s new outfit and Tabitha squealed, preened and wiggled her ass at the adulation. Then Etuate suggested Tabitha go back and practice on her pole since the guests would be arriving soon. Jaime told her to get herself something from the bar as well as he struggled with buckling Aprils new shoes.

Next came Jerica, her butch haircut now hidden with a wig of long shiny lavender hair. She wore a shiny purple G-string and a pair of pasties that resembled two tiny bunches of grapes.

She tottered forward on a pair of soaring purple acrylic heels covered in silver glitter. A big, shiny, cheep-looking jewel adorned the purple leather straps where they sprouted between her first and second toes, then the straps snaked their way up her legs to then buckle just bellow her knees.

Behind her came Robyn, her tight braids held in a big gold-lamae scrunchie, her generous tits held in a tiny white leather halter. She had big gold hoops dangling from her ears and a gaudy gold chain around her hips, just above a white leather G-string that would probably be more suited for use as an eye patch. The mocha-skinned law student finished of the ensemble with high-heeled white leather boots that reached up to mid thigh where they were hemmed with gold rhinestones.

“Hi there Miss Squirmy Britches! <giggle>“ said Jerica to Gretchen. “How do I look?”

She threw her hands up above her head with a flourish, sticking out her chest to make up for her slight bust. Before Gretchen could respond, however, Robyn reached out and goosed Jerica. The young lesbian squeeled, thrusting her hips forward in surprise and turning about to see who had grabbed her. The acrylic heels were not so accommodating, however, given Jerica’s inexperience and intoxication. She twirled about chaotically, tangling her legs about each other, and then found herself facing Gretchen once again and entirely at the mercy of an uncaring force of gravity. She tumbled forward and planted her face squarely in Gretchen’s crotch.

Gretchen roared with high-pitched laughter. In a night of utter hilarity, this was the funniest thing that had happened yet. She squeezed Jerica’s head between her thighs and bent forward to swat her pale bare ass. Robyn bust a gut laughing as well and Gretchen grinned naughtily at her.

Jerica shuddered between Gretchen’s thighs. She released her head so that the girl could breath.

“God, you smell great!” Jerica exclaimed.

Gretchen giggled.

“Thanks!” she exclaimed.

“God, Robyn, you totally gotta smell her!” Jerica said, looking over her shoulder.

Robyn grinned wickedly, giggled, and joined Jerica in kneeling before the altar of Gretchen’s cooze.

“Oh lordy, that is nice!” Robyn declared. “Gretchen, what have you got on your <slurp> MMM!”

Gretchen giggled as Robyn licked at the dried ‘essence of Jim’ on her legs. It tickled! But it was the first tickle of many, as Jerica followed Robyn’s lead, licking her other thigh.

“OOOOH!” said Jerica.

And then both girls’ tongues were assaulting Gretchen’s nether regions with obsessive determination.

“Hey!” Gretchen exclaimed as they devoured her. “Tickles!”

And then she started squealing and squirming as the two insisted and lapping her clean. All her squirming soon had her skirt hiked up to her waist as she slipped down in her seat, exposing her bare ass to the torrent of tongues. And having found the fount of their feast, Jerica and Robyn proceeded to give her the most enthusiastic rim jobs in the history of sex. Gretchen went into convulsions with the pleasure and started to drool and gurgle.

“OK, ladies,” Etuate said once they finally stopped assaulting Gretchen’s sphincter. “I think she’s had enough.”

“It’s gooooood! <giggle>” said Robyn, seeming decidedly more intoxicated than before she started on Gretchen.

Jerica just nodded erratically and giggled.

“That’s because Jim fucked her up the ass,” Etuate explained. “The gas makes spunk a powerful euphoric.”

The girls giggled at this information.

“More?” asked Jerica hopefully, pointing at his crotch.

“I gotta get the rest of your friends dressed,” he said. “Why don’t you two go wash your faces and I’ll meet you out in the main room.”

They giggled and agreed, then helped each other to their feet and, holding each other up, weaved and wobbled towards the restroom, giggling all the way.

“All righty, Princess,” said the bouncer, turning to Gretchen who was still panting and flushed from her rim job. “Let’s get you back on your throne.”

He put two beefy hands around her midriff and lifted her back up into her seat. She giggled and blinked at him.

“You’re big!” she informed him.

The Tongan chuckled.

“You play your cards right, I just might show you how big,” he told her. “But you’ve got three more bimbos ready for your approval.”

Indeed, Paula, Sheryl and April had found the costumes and were dressed as a slutty cheerleader, nurse and cop, respectively. Gretchen giggled and clapped her approval as they strutted and posed in their stripper heels.

Etuate shooed them out into the main room, eventually, as Chelsea was ready to present herself.

“Hey Greshen!” shouted Chesea. “Check out my shoeses! <giggle>

Gretchen looked to see that the plastered blonde was wearing high-platformed pink jelly sandals, and nothing else but a pink feather boa and her glasses. She was clearly unable to stand in the soaring heels—quite likely she couldn’t do so in her bare feet—but Jaime the bartender had a helpful supporting arm around her naked hips.

Gretchen giggled and pointed at Chelsea’s shoes.

“Pink!” she exclaimed, and Chelsea nodded in agreement.

“Yes,” elaborated Jaime in his thick Spanish accent. “I thought pink would be nice because it matches here pointy pink nipples!”

He emphasized this point by grabbing her left nipple with his free hand. Chelsea’s eyes rolled back in her head and her lolled against Jaime’s cheek as her face light up with ecstasy.

“Plus they match with her pretty pink cuntlips as well,” he continued, spreading them with the

other hand. “And of course, her little pink clitty.”

Chelsea squealed as her roughly fingered her love button. Gretchen giggled.

“I think I should fuck her now, don’t you?” Jaime asked. “She seems ready.”

Gretchen nodded vigorously, giving the couple a huge encouraging grin.

“Happy happy fuck fuck!” she exclaimed, remembering her own recent trip to carnal heaven.

Chelsea giggled, said ‘fuck fuck’ and stumbled away, leaning heavenly on her supportive bartender.

At last, all the girls were dressed and sent back out to the main room to dance around the polls. Gretchen was left alone with Etuate.

“You know,” he told her, “In my line of work, you tend learn not to respond to women unless you let yourself, but I must admit, seeing you all bimboed-up like this has really been giving me a hard-on.”

Gretchen giggled. He liked her.

“You gotta understand,” told her. “It’s my job to protect the girls. You know, make sure they’re safe, but also make sure they get paid. If they ain’t making money here, they’ll have to make it other ways—ways that aren’t so safe. So stopping y’all from messing with the club is just my way of protecting my girls, understand?”

Gretchen giggled.

“You’re nice!” she exclaimed.

“Well, I like to think so,” the bouncer confessed. “Am I nice enough for you to suck my dick now?”

Gretchen giggled.

“Okay!” she agreed.

Then Etuate lowered his trousers and revealed a humongous and decidedly virile cock. Gretchen’s eyes went wide. The bouncer chuckled.

“Big!” she said, quite unnecessarily.

Soon she was on her knees, giving her first blowjob ever. She was sloppy and amateurish, but Etuate seemed very appreciative, which utterly delighted her. The huge thing was warm and vibrant in her mouth and felt so velvety smooth and sensual along her lips as she bobbed her ginger-haired head along the shaft, guided by Etuate’s big beefy hands.

“That’s right,” he said. “You’re a nasty little cocksucker, aren’t you?”

“MmmHmmm,” she agreed, giggling around his cock. It was fun!

And then he gave a little grunt and started cuming. Suddenly it became much more than fun. Gretchen’s eyes twinkled with wonder, savoring the epicurean delight that was flowing out of the huge pecker.

“Eeeng!” she squealed, letting Etuate know how much she was enjoying it and then sucking and licking passionately, hungrily. She was in heaven! Every inch of her felt marvelous. Somehow, things just kept getting better!

And then he was done, and he slipped his spent cock out from between her pursed lips, slapping her gently on the nose with it when she tried to get her mouth back around it.

“Iss really good!” she said in a sticky voice, licking around the inside of her mouth to get the residuals.

“Glad you liked it,” said Etuate. “But from the squeals of your friends out there, it sounds like the party is really getting started now. I bet there’s a few more cocks out there now if you’d like a little more.

Gretchen giggled and smacked her lips. The bouncer chuckled and helped her to her feet, then propelled her out into the main room with a helpful hand on her ass.

There were, indeed, several cocks in the main room and the men they were attached to seemed very impressed with Gretchen’s little club and their new outfits. They were offering the girls drinks, encouraging them to dance and taking their pictures. Robyn and Jerica were under a table sucking two guys off as they watched Tabitha swing around a brass pole.

“And here she is, gentlemen!” announced in a voice that carried over the throbbing music. “The leader of this merry band of bimbos, I give you GRETCHEN!!!!”

The men barked and hooted their approval, as did several of the girls. Gretchen beamed with pride. She looked about to find Jim and saw that he was holding a video camera aimed right at her.

“Wave for the camera, gorgeous!” he encouraged, and of course she complied.

“Now flash those sweet titties and yell ‘Hi Daddy!” he instructed.

Gretchen giggled and did as she as asked.

Jim lowered the camera and gave her a peck on the cheek and a squeeze on the bum.

“You look prettier than ever, Gretchen!” he told her. “Why don’t you join the party? There are a lot of great guys here just waiting to meet a smart friendly girl like you!”

Gretchen giggled. That sounded like a great idea. She surveyed the bacchanal before her and wondered who she would suck off first.

To be continued….