Bimbo Code Series Bundle

by Jen Eastwood

  “So they get tested too?”

  Dr. Clare sighed and scooted right up against me. “Everyone has had blood drawn these days. A genetic test and background check isn't hard for us.”

  I don't know why I looked for a pen on my bed. “So I need to fill one of these out for you.”

  “Already taken care of. If an overseer for GeneFactor witnesses it, we can report it.”

  “I'd say you had a pretty good view of what happened.”

  The ice queen's exterior cracked with a little more blushing. “Will you drop that shit? It wasn't like I intended for it to happen.”

  “You sound like you regret it.”

  Her cheeks were on fire after that. “I never had a first-hand experience with our treatment. Now I know exactly how well it works.”

  “So you totally wanted it.”

  “You know what I mean. It just, I don't know, turned into the only thing I wanted out of life.” The shame was about to break her. “And I know exactly how it happened too.”

  The iron was hot. “I thought you had some of it in you when we first met. No woman is that serious unless she's repressing something.”

  “You're calling me a slut.”

  “No, just my slut. I don't see any shame being that for one guy. Hell, I think it's admirable.”

  “It's your fault.” Cynthia lied back on my mattress and ran her fingers down my back. “Besides, it's my job is to turn you into a man-whore. There's not many things admirable about those.”

  “Unless you're a man.”

  I watched the skirt slide down her legs beside me. “Will you shut the fuck up and show me what's so great about being a slut again?”

  I hated to see Dr. Clare leave in the morning, and she hated not going for another round after we'd dried off from an incredibly steamy shower. The only thing left in my day was taking my daily dose of Patrem Delta and trying to bust through that guidebook. After my meeting on Friday and cashing my first $5,000 check, quitting via a text to my shit pile of an ex-boss was perfectly justified.

  Starting from the front cover, I had worked my way through half of the binder by late morning. The genetic requirements for a Prime Recipient felt impossible to judge until I had gone over the physical signs. The shape of the body, symmetry in the face, and every other quality in a woman was covered.

  It wasn't until I got to the example portion that I realized men have a built-in nose for this sort of judgment call. When you see a perfect ten, you know by instinct. The only exceptions to that rule are a special class of women who may or may not be Prime Recipients, depending on the male they're paired with. It explained the women who drive you insane, but you can't figure out why. We'll call them 'your type.'

  By the way, my body was in fact changing from the treatment. I wasn't out of shape in any sense of the term, but I know I didn't have abs a week before. Like I said, Patrem Delta was a miracle drug, and I still hadn't seen the last of its effects.

  But with the evening in front of me, I was ready for a second victory. The only problem was finding a perfect ten on a Monday night.

  I was driving around town trying to figure out that ancient question: “Where all the hotties at?” A fifteen year old Mustang didn't draw girls in like it did when I first got it, so it was time to get out and search on foot. Wandering around the mall was my last option, but it stood a better chance than anything else I could think of.

  With only an hour until closing I found a parking spot close to the main entrance. A few clothing stores had a policy of only hiring people who look just as good as the ad models. The way my shoulders widened and my hips narrowed over the past several days left me needing clothes that actually fit anyway.

  I kept an eye out the whole walk to Burlemire & Fitz. I could afford to be picky, but I wouldn't turn down a solid MILF who met the criteria. Back in college, giving a sympathetic ear to a cougar in a nightclub fresh off the wrong side of a divorce was the easy way to get a night that'd grind your pelvis to dust. A few good eights tempted me, but this wasn't my usual night of desperation hunting. Settling meant I didn't get paid.

  The store was as dimly lit and dim-witted as I remembered. A few girls browsed in their section. Two sixes. A quick look through the mens' side made my eyes roll. Even if I was in my late-twenties, I was a decade late for this stuff. A guy my age dressing like a teenager, driving the same car he had as a teenager, would make a mid-life crisis look like a sniffle.

  I turned around to leave when I spotted a blonde, flannel wearing deity carrying a tower of shirts walking right at me from the stockroom. She passed right by me and I almost broke my neck catching a look at her backside. The motion of her heart-shaped ass in those tight jeans made my nuts fizz as much as her front.

  She had everything the guidebook called for, right down to being the kind of girl I went apeshit over. The only question was if my powers could make her go all the way with a complete stranger. I'd met Cynthia before I took control of her, and it was just the two of us in that entire building. This was going from zero to banging, in full view of at least seven other people in the store. But I couldn't let this one go.

  Even with my new abilities, the same butterflies you always feel when reaching out of your league stomped at my guts with combat boots. No fucking way I'd have tried this before. My palms felt slick and the metallic taste of adrenaline filled my mouth. I started toward her, fighting to breathe normally.

  She hummed a pop song I'd heard a few times as she organized the t-shirts on a display table. Looking for any excuse to talk, I grabbed the first pair of khakis off a rack that I could grab. As soon as I took my next step, the pair slid from my grip.

  My target stopped when she heard the hanger clatter against the tile floor. I was on it like money on a golf course, snatching the pants out of the floor before I missed more than a step. Her grin at me said everything up to and including dumbass.

  The rush of color to my cheeks had dragged me from augmented alpha male back down to the bottom in an instant. I'm still fucking this up? What the hell's the matter with me? I almost jogged to the changing rooms, ready to hid from the world, or at least the blonde I'd let have the best of me with a glance.

  I locked the door behind me and sat on the changing bench. The next few seconds was me staring at myself, cussing under my breath that I was still scared shitless about even approaching a girl out of my league. The pants I had grabbed were too big for me anyway.

  You know you can make her do whatever you want, so why is it still so fucking hard? I felt like butterflies were going to war in my stomach. The look of pure terror in the mirror eased into embarrassment.

  Every person has a point in their lives when they decide to give in or give it their all. This was mine. The only thing stopping you from fucking that girl silly is yourself, and you know it. I clenched my fists and started building the pressure behind my forehead. Even if it doesn't work, at worst you'll look like a fool in front of a girl you'd never see again anyway.

  I pulled the front of my shirt up and admired the changes in my body. I wasn't the same man I was before Patrem Delta. My body was made for bedding any woman I wanted, but the mind would need work for a long time still.

  I could fuck her on the counter if I wanted. The fuck am I standing here for? I grabbed the khakis and marched out of the dressing room. The blonde was still working on the display as I put the pants back on the rack. Her quick glance didn't faze me this time. You'll never be able to ignore or intimidate me again. I was pissed with myself already.

  I gathered myself and took a deep breath. Closing the distance between us, I locked in on her eyes, blue as the California sky. A mix of confusion and apprehension spread over her face as I planted my hands on the display, it being the only thing between us. Ego sum alpha. Et genua parere.

  A bubble of pressure released in my head. Spots drifted in my peripheral vision for a moment. The blonde's head bowed enough to let me know it had worked.

  I moved to her side of t
he table as soon as I knew I wouldn't pass out. Part of me wanted to go at her right then and there. I put a hand on her shoulder with no reaction and asked, “What's your name?”

  Her voice was sweet, like she had met a walking dream. “Zoey May.”

  That was easy. “When do you get off work?”

  “Nine o'clock.”

  I pulled a dollar bill and a pen from my pocket and scribbled my address and apartment number. I handed it to Zoey and ordered, “Meet me after you get off.”

  She leaned in close and took a breathe. It was adoration in her eyes. “Yes, sir.”

  “And don't be so formal.” It was creeping me out.

  “Okay.”

  That wasn't much better. Even if Zoey was putty in my hands, she sounded dumb as a second coat of primer. I leaned in and whispered, “Try to act sexy, alright?”

  She grinned and twirled a lock of hair. “Right now, or later?”

  Shit. “Around me, anyway.”

  I let Zoey nudge against me and felt her nibble on my earlobe. She buried her nose in my neck and said, “Why should I wait?” The tickle of fingers danced on my crotch. “You're hard right now.”

  “At my place.” I started backing away. “You might want to keep your job.”

  I sped home, hard as a Louisville Slugger. Even the pictures on her social media accounts were wank material. Zoey was definitely the kind of hot blonde you pulled up among friends just to say, “Yeah, I hit that.” Her bikini shots from last year almost put my jaw on the floor.

  My apartment seemed pitiful compared to what a girl like her would expect, but the kind of control I had made that irrelevant. If Zoey would follow any order I gave her, the framed baseball jerseys and shot light bulbs wouldn't matter. Banging her would get me enough money to finish paying off my student loans and pay the deposit on a far swankier place than that shit hole.

  I filled in what information I could on my paperwork with the last few minutes. Scribbling frantically, I was already imaging what her clothes hid from me. It was the first time I'd gotten a boner from filling out a form.

  Two sharp knocks rapped out from my door. I unbuttoned my shirt and let my new abs show. If I was pumping out pheromones like Dr. Clare had said, I wanted them getting to Zoey as much as possible.

  I opened the door and almost fell over at the sight of her. Her cheeks were already blushing. A good four buttons were undone on her shirt, showing that pink bra and cleavage to the world.

  Zoey stepped in without saying a word. I slipped back into my old patterns and asked, “How about a drink?”

  She looked at me for a second, admiring the line of abs going down my torso. Her fingers drifted under my shirt as her arms wrapped around my waist. “I'm fine, but I can make you one if you'd like.”

  This idea will be important later, but I hadn't even considered that Patrem Delta would let me turn any woman into an outright servant. Turning them into sluts I understood, but this was news to me.

  “I'm good,” I said, wondering what to do with this girl. I cracked a smile and joked, “Blowjobs are always welcome in my house.”

  Zoey returned the smile and dropped to her knees. It wasn't until she was fighting to get my pants open that I realized what I had done. I ran my fingers through her hair and let my newest toy have her way. I had the same level of control over her as I had over Dr. Clare.

  Those pouty lips parted to take me in, Zoey letting her tongue rub hard against the underside of my cock. I leaned my head back and moaned, letting Zoey know she was acing it.

  Zoey backed off and wrapped a hand around my shaft. She cocked her head and took me back in. I didn't know if this dick-sucking of a lifetime was born from practice or natural talent. And I didn't care one bit.

  I let Zoey suck to her heart's content as I stared back down at her. There's nothing to stop me from doing this with any woman I want. I thrusted to the back of her throat, filling her mouth completely.

  Zoey returned the gesture, rocking herself back and forth like she was mad at my dick. I let her do it, admiring the expert way she kept her teeth away from my skin. A few more minutes of this and I'd have been done.

  But I had a job to do. I eased her head back and asked, “A little enthusiastic, don't you think?”

  She let my tip go with those lush, ruby lips. “I know you're not complaining.” The way she enjoyed stroking her hand along my length with that little bit of twist was almost too sexy.

  “You're good, I'll give you that much.” I watched the look of pride light her face up. “I bet you can do even better lying down.”

  “My boyfriend never complains like this.” It was news to me. Sucks to be him now, I suppose.

  She gave another pump on my shaft, making me shiver in place. I put a finger under her chin to guide her up as I said, “I hope he likes to share.”

  Zoey giggled at the idea. “He'd kill us both.”

  It made the idea of coming inside her even better. I released the few buttons remaining on Zoey's shirt. She started on her jeans and kicked off her flats. I let her finish and said, “Lie down on the coffee table.”

  This girl's body was incredible. Perfect legs ended in an ass that could kill a man with a weak heart. Her breasts invited me to bury my face in them, almost pouring out of that pink bra.

  Zoey swiped the magazines off the table and lied back exactly as I told her. I stepped over and saw her eyes begging for me to claim her. She was almost too perfect.

  I got on my knees for a change, ready to return the worship. Grabbing at her waist, I pulled Zoey down the table until her ass rested on the edge. I hooked my fingers around the waistband of her panties and slid them down her legs until they were at home in the floor.

  A cute little landing strip of blonde let me know Zoey didn't get her hair color from a bottle. Below it was a sight that made angels weep. Her tight pussy lips called my name.

  I leaned in and teased around the edges. Zoey gasped and cradled the back of my head with her hands, her thighs resting on my shoulders. She had a warm embrace like a blanket right out of the dryer.

  I traced the line of her slit, teasing another gasp out of Zoey. I let my tongue lap against everything but exactly what she wanted. Within seconds Zoey was whimpering for me to stop toying with her.

  Backing away, I parted her folds with my fingers. Zoey's tiny clit almost pulsed. I toyed with it only enough to be cruel.

  Her fingers tangled in my hair, pulling me forward and right into that furnace of a pussy. I went ahead and granted her wish, lashing my tongue against her pearl. Zoey moaned her thanks, driving me to lick harder and faster the louder she got.

  The grip on my hair tightened as her thighs closed around my head. I felt Zoey arch her back, screaming loud enough to wake the neighbors. Going at it with all I could summon, I worked Zoey up until her body flexed like a single band of muscle.

  She was as close as an arrow through your heart. I slid a finger inside her, feeling the insane wetness that barely contained itself inside her body. Zoey rocked and tensed up as her voice echoed in my tiny apartment.

  I gave it one last push, curling my finger and wearing my tongue out. Zoey burst out in a fit of tremors, losing her voice as she tried to moan in triumph. I stood back as she shook out the last of her climax.

  At some point during all this, she had managed to get her bra off. And what a great pair she had. This was exactly what I was born to experience.

  Zoey quivered with the tail of her orgasm and looked up at me. She got up and loked like she had gotten a blessing from above.

  I was still on the opposite side of the table. Instinct told me to lie her down on my couch, but my cock was too impatient. I got to Zoey and spun her around, pinning her breasts against the wall with a hand between her shoulder blades.

  The head of my cock pressed against her entrance as I let my pants and boxers fall. Zoey gasped and braced her arms against the wall, trying to break free. Something wasn't right.

  I let go of her an
d stepped out of the pile of pants on the floor. Zoey spun around and said, “Wait, I'm not on birth control.”

  Every part of me wanted to hike one of her legs up and start fucking her anyway. “You know you still want it.”

  She bit her lip and settled back down. My control of her will overrode any concerns she had. “You mean you don't care if I end up having your baby?”

  It was the point of what I was doing. “It's the only thing you want.”

  Zoey's eyebrows shot up. “I don't know why, but you're right.”

  I pulled my shirt off and stepped out of my socks. Zoey's hands went right to my abs. I ran my fingers down the curve of her waist. “Tell Brad it's his baby. He won't have to know any better.” I felt a twinge of guilt over it, but it was my job.

  Her fingers wrapped around my dick again. Zoey pulled me into her, letting go and jumping to wrap her legs around me. My shaft found home as the hot, slick walls of her pussy took me in.

  Zoey's breath was just as warm and she whimpered into my neck. I wrapped my arms around her, thrusting like I was trying to stab right through her. She was right back to screaming when I got into the rhythm of it.

  I pulled her higher up, using that new strength in my arms to bounce Zoey on my shaft. She fit me like a tailored glove, tight enough to send a bolt of electricity up my core every time she slid against the length of my cock. She was too wet, too hot, and too ready.

  I kept her bouncing on me as I stepped backwards to the couch. We fell together, her on top and riding me like nothing had happened. The way Zoey swished her hips quickly to the right, then slowly back to the left almost blew my fuse.

  Zoey was going for it, enjoying the sex but working on finishing me off as soon as possible. She started working herself front to back, massaging me in just the right places with that tight piece of heaven. She leaned in and whispered, “It's alright, come inside me.”

  I was ready and willing, but letting it end as soon as it started would have been a damn shame. Grabbing Zoey by the shoulders, we almost fought over who was in control. Wrestling her onto her back, she squirmed with her back against the cushions, still trying to milk me for what she wanted.