Bimbo TV: The Complete Series

by Sasha Scott

  “You think it’s A? Sorry, the odds lied this time, it was actually Sicily.”

  Taylor didn’t know how it was all going so wrong but it was and the curtain was down again, covering her up and starting to change.

  She felt her skin tingling at first but there was no weird growth, she couldn’t tell what was going on. However then she felt small pricks on selective areas of her body. She felt one dab against her nose and she brushed her finger over the mark to see what had happened. She felt a small, metallic, stud. The machine seriously couldn’t have could it?

  It had. When the lights came up Taylor found herself pierced in all the places she felt a prick. She had a stud in her nostril, large golden hoops in her ears and a ball piercing in her tongue. Her exposed belly button also had a dangling piercing and somehow the machine had even managed to put a bar through each of her nipples!

  However that wasn’t all. The tingling she felt on her body? She looked on her right arm to find a long, tattoo, sleeve and from her left hip up to her stomach was a scattering of stars; she couldn’t even see the tramp stamp on her lower back either.

  “I can’t hide all thith,” she said, covering her lips sharply when her tongue piercing caused her to lisp. Her lips hadn’t gotten her but the piercing had.

  “That’s the whole point,” Bill replied happily, “it wouldn’t be a forfeit if it was too easy. Ready to tackle the next one? Say no if you’re not.”

  She didn’t want to expose that embarrassing lisp so she shook her head from side to side.

  “Great!” he exclaimed, ignoring her completely, “Then let’s move onto question six. What is considered the “king of herbs” by many cookery authors? Is it A, Basil? Is it B, Rosemary? Or is it C, Thyme?”

  Taylor could have sworn she knew this but her head was feeling all fuzzy, it was hard to concentrate, but she knew she couldn’t slip up again. Her body made her look like a stripper, what more could they possibly do? It couldn’t be good!

  In a fluster she tried to rack her brain for the answers. What could she figure out? Thyme sounded a little bit like throne. Maybe that was the clue?

  She looked for other answers but sadly, with Bill pestering her, something sounding a tiny bit like throne was as good as she could get. Plus the C answers were coming up a lot. Maybe this would be her moment!?

  “Ith it Thyme?” she asked, softly, in almost a mumble.

  “I can reveal… it was actually Basil. How unlucky can you get folks? You have to feel sorry for Taylor, back in the bimbo booth she goes.”

  Beep beep, the sound honked, the light shone and the curtain dropped around her. Her fingers gripped her seat tightly as she waited, what was it going to do to her next? How would it warp her looks this time?

  Taylor though wasn’t going to get her body shifted again, or her clothing changed. The sixth forfeit she was receiving was one that hit the brain. The transformations always made contestants feel fuzzy when they piled up but eventually that’d fade away. However her next change was different. That tingle that took over her mind wasn’t like the temporary dose of stupidity. The nanobots were giving her mind the permanent bimbofication treatment. They were turning her into a dummy.

  The busty blonde gasped as her mind was drained away. Her IQ points dropped from the triple figures down into the double figures until she was left thinking more like the stereotype she was becoming. When the curtain lifted again both body and mind were bimbo.

  “So no changes I can see this time,” Bill said, “but the people in my ear are saying you just got the brain drain treatment. How are you feeling Taylor?”

  “Erm… like… I don’t know, and stuff. I was just like in the machine and then I felt all tingles and stuff and now my head feels like all funny,” she slurred out, still delightfully lisping her words.

  “I don’t know, maybe nothing changed then?” Bill teased, impossible not to notice the difference.

  “Like you think so? That’d be so cool!”

  “I do. Maybe this new found luck of yours will carry over into your last question in this round?”

  “Like I hope so!”

  “Well then let’s find out. Here comes question seven. Who composed ‘The Nutcracker?’ Was it A, Beethoven? Was it B, Mozart? Or was it C, Tchaikovsky?”

  It was weird. Taylor had been in panic mode for quite a lot of the show but suddenly she felt a lot better. It was almost like she was now finding it difficult to truly comprehend the effects of the show, which was especially weird as clearly nothing had happened to her in the last forfeit.

  “Hey like I’ve heard of that first one,” she gasped in surprise.

  “You mean Beethoven?”

  “Yeah him, Beat-oven.”

  “I think you mean Beethoven.”

  “That’s what I said, Beat-oven.”

  The crowd giggled at her ditzy confusion. Her new found lack in the brain department really matched up well with her slurry voice, as well as her overly sexualized bimbo body in that slutty beyond belief outfit.

  “So shall I accept Beethoven as your final answer?”

  “Yes please!”

  “Well Taylor… I’m afraid the answer was actually C, Tchaikovsky.”

  “Yeay, I did it!” she cheered, clapping her hands as she bounced up and down in place, making her giant jugs wobble, almost snapping that tit hugging micro bikini.

  “No Taylor, you were incorrect. That means you have to go back in the booth.”

  “Like what?” she asked in confusion as the alarm sounded and the curtain dropped around her, signalling what would be her final change in the show, if only because she was out of questions to get wrong.

  Again the next transformation was not one which would be physical, it was mental but she would soon feel it. It was another vital piece in the puzzle of any stereotype bimbo. Her libido was being ramped up and her mind was being interjected with a strong desire for men, sex and cock.

  The curtain hadn’t even lifted and already she was starting to feel it. Those pierced nipples of hers were getting stiff and she could feel a heat bubbling in her loins below. It’d barely been a few seconds since the nanobots had gone to work and already she was feeling horny.

  By the time she was revealed to the audience she was squirming in place, grinding her thick thighs together.

  “Well I don’t think I need the people in my ear to tell me what happened here. Taylor has been given a dose of the slutties.”

  “Like is that why I’m feeling so warm?” she panted as she began to rub over her own body with her hands, one trailing downwards while the other began to venture upwards.

  “Indeed it is. Do you think you’ll be able to make it through our last commercial break Taylor?”

  “Erm… like… I don’t know… maybe?” her fingers already rubbing along her wet, red, thong.

  “Well we’ll try and give Taylor some time to cool down. Join us after the break to see whether she’ll be walking away hear a whole lot richer or just a whole lot bustier. Don’t go anywhere folks!”

  “Welcome back folks to our final round of the show. Taylor here has been in incredible poor form and managed to answer a grand total of no questions correctly. However still she has the chance to walk away with our grand prize and all she had to do is break her duck and answer one final question correctly. Taylor, are you ready?”

  “Like yeah I’m horny,” she moaned. Her mesh top had been pulled up to her shoulders and her bra was out of place, showing off those pierced, pink, nipples as she touched herself up top, her touching below having kept her soaked panties in place somehow.

  “I said ready but… whatever floats your boat. Okay let’s dim the lights for our final question of the show.”

  There was a dramatic pause as the spotlight came down and illuminated Taylor who didn’t exactly do the tense mood justice with her shameless masturbation session.

  “Okay Taylor,” Bill said to her, “This is for one hundred, thousand, dollars. Who played ‘the Bad�
�� in the 1966 spaghetti western film, ‘The Good, the Bad and the Ugly’? Was it A, Charles Bronson? Was it B, Clint Eastwood? Or was it C, Lee Van Cleef?”

  “Erm… like… what,” Taylor groaned back, too busy playing with herself to listen.

  “Just… look to your side, it’s on the screen.”

  “Oh right,” she giggled out as she finally began to read over the question, slowly, very slowly in fact. When did reading become so hard? Probably around the same time thinking did.

  Putting her brain to anything other than taking care of her lust, or trying to pick out hot guys from the audience, was pretty tricky. However, in a rare moment of clarity, Taylor actually remembered something. She knew that movie, she remembered its name and she even remembered the person who starred in it. She may have gotten dumb but not that dumb.

  “Oh oh I know, I know!” she clapped happily, giggling some more as she bounced around in the booth, “Like that’s a Clint Hardwood film, isn’t it?”

  “Did you mean Eastwood?”

  “Yeah that’s what I said. It’s like him isn’t it?”

  “Is that your final answer?” he pressed on her, the studio being left in silence… apart from the squelching of her fingers playing with her pussy.

  “Erm… yeah, I think so. So like do I win now?”

  “Taylor… that is incorrect! So unlucky!” he groaned, a sound being mimicked by the audience as she got it spectacularly wrong, just like every other question on the show, “A clean sweep of wrong answers. Who would have thought it? I can’t remember that ever happening before.”

  “So like… I didn’t win?”

  “No.”

  “So... like… erm… what do I do now?”

  “Well,” he hummed, tapping his chin as he looked around the studio, “you still seem pretty horny. If you go with our nice security men I’m sure they can help take care of your desires.”

  She giggled happily as she saw the big, muscular, hunks approaching, their figures outlined in tight fitting shirts. She imagined every muscle in their body was pretty big as she grasped their hands and let them drag her from her seat, Taylor teetering around on the six inch platform heels.

  “Hmm like this looks like fun,” she lisped out as they began to lead her off the stage and into the backstage area where they could take care of all of her pussy bubbling troubles. All that left was Bill to wrap up the show.

  “Well there you have it folks. Sadly Taylor didn’t manage to answer our grand prize question correctly, or any of our questions correct for that matter. Do you think you could do better? Well then sign up to take part on our website. Anyway, I’ve been Bill Manning, this has been Who Likes Being A Bimbo? Until I see you next time, good night everybody!”

  Sadly for Taylor she didn’t walk away from the show with any money and simply left with a lot of bimbo transformations. However bimbos were the trendy thing so unlike the old days were a girl like her would have been shunned by many, her new appearance and mindset was positively welcomed back at her job, even when she messed up.

  There was a crash and a bash as a plate went shattering down into the floor, the clumsy, high heel wearing waitress having broken another one.

  “Like OMG I’m so sorry!” she gasped out, it being the third one she’d ruined that week. However the reception from those in the cafe were different from her horror.

  “Aww how adorable, look how silly she is.”

  “It wouldn’t be a proper dinner without Taylor making some mistake.”

  “I still remember when she put salt in my coffee. The ditzy bimbo.”

  Taylor was loved and adored by the customers; the amount of tips she received had skyrocketed ever since she’d became a busty, bubbly, blonde. Her boss had even allowed her to wear her own idea for a uniform, her exposed flesh helping to keep the place packed.

  She may have been dumb and silly but she liked the job even more than before and everybody was so nice to her. She’d never realized just how wonderful being a bimbo could be, even if she had to pick up a lot more porcelain than before. It was fun to be a bimbo, especially when her boss gave her some very personal tips.

  Wheel of Bimbo

  Thanks to the success of Bimbo TV’s first game show, Who Likes Being A Bimbo?, the channel’s producers were inspired to come up with more shows in order to hook the general population.

  The second hit show they managed to come up with was a play on a nation’s favorite. Taking that idea on board they managed to warp it into something that they called The Wheel of Bimbo.

  Once again it was hosted by the channel’s serial game show host, Bill Manning, but this time it didn’t just feature one contestant; Wheel of Bimbo featured three.

  Wheel of Bimbo was a simple game. Each round a new subject was selected and a corresponding blanked out word was flashed onto the screen. Contestants would take turns spinning the wheel and trying to guess the letters and eventually the word. Whoever had the most cash by the end of the game would move onto the final.

  The wheel decided how much money the contestants would earn for a successful answer. However the wheel was also covered with lots of nasty forfeits as well which would automatically end the contestant’s turn and have an affect on the contestant and the game.

  Stay away from the forfeits and get the money, it sounded so easy. It definitely was not.

  At the dawn of a new show the audience applauded loudly, welcoming TV veteran Bill Manning into the pink studio, along with his lovely bimbo assistant, Mary Ann, who would be handling the letters.

  Both of them took their position as Bill got the game underway.

  “Hello everyone I’m Bill Manning and welcome to Wheel of Bimbo. Today I’m joined by three, new, very beautiful contestants. Let’s meet them shall we. First let’s start with Kim. Tell us a little about yourself Kim.”

  Contestant number one was a smartly dressed student with dark, black, hair held in a long ponytail, and a cute, chirpy, smile.

  “I’m a student from Denver and I’m studying to be a journalist.”

  “Terrific. Next up we have Amy. Now how about you Amy, what are you up to?”

  Amy was a casually dressed, young, brunette with long flowing hair and thick glasses that really made her stand out.

  “Well currently I’m working in a library as I’m trying to work on publishing my first novel.”

  “Who would have thought we’d have a writer in the room? But let’s not forget about contestant number three. Hello Lindsey, how are you?”

  Lindsey was a tall, stunning blonde with beautifully defined features like a model.

  “Very well, even better depending how this show goes. I’m a dancer and an amatuer model from all the way in New York.”

  “So some people have come a long way for tonight. Let’s hope that nobody ends up going home empty handed. Alright, Lindsey you are first to spin. The category is, Movie Titles.”

  The first question was split into four different words and was twenty letters in total with Lindsey being the first to spin.

  Around the wheel went and luckily for her it began well as she landed on a cash amount, a steady $500.

  “Is there an S?”

  “There are actually two S’s.”

  Ding, ding. Celebrations for Lindsey as the first letters went on the board, the first two words both ending in an S.

  “I’d like to buy a vowel please. I’d like an E.”

  “There are three E’s.”

  It was going very well for Lindsey. She’d already managed to solve a quarter of the puzzle, she just didn’t know the answer which meant she had to spin again. That was when fortune decided to leave her.

  The wheel on Wheel of Bimbo was about fifty percent cash and fifty percent forfeit which meant there always a split chance of punishment and Lindsey was about to receive it as the ticker landed over the space for breast growth.

  “Oh no,” she muttered to herself as the transformation began, the science boggling nanobots in their syst
ems meaning the changes could happen instantly, anywhere.

  Lindsey was wearing a classy, black, dress that hugged her figure tight and it only got tighter when the growing began, her sudden burst of size straining into the dark material.

  She’d only been an A cup, small in the chest department, but her mammaries suddenly had other ideas as they grew bigger and bigger, swelling on her front until they settled at cleavage creating D cups.

  “That’s quite the pair of dress poppers you’ve got there,” Bill cheered happily, not sharing her concern, “and that means control swaps over to Kim. Please spin the wheel.”