Becoming the Bimbo

by Jay Aury

  Station SS9

  Book 1: Becoming the Bimbo

  Jay Aury

  jay.aury@aol.com

  This book and its contents are copyright 2017 by Jay Aury. All rights are reserved and no portion may be reproduced aside from brief quotations for review purposes.

  All characters appearing in this story are over the age of 18. This is a work of parody and any resemblence to real people or situations is coincidental.

  The Lab

  Locks hissed and the ramp extended with a whirr. The door of Janna Raenzen’s freighter slid open and she stepped down to the hanger of station SS9. Dock 7 sprawled before her. Heavy cargo ships with dark green paint hulked above sleeker crafts like silver fish. Fuel lines and cables draped the walls and floors like roots and vines of an iron jungle. Voices shouted over the rumble of engines and high-pitched hums of shields. She sighed, stretching, her shirt and pants fitting snugly against her modest curves. She undid the bun her hair had been put into for the flight and shook free her dark locks. Rolling her shoulders to get the feel for them, she made her way to the main gate leading into the station.

  The humming air field tingled as she passed through it and into a world of neon colour and bustling activity. Hundreds of people from every walk of life moved across the ringing decks of the station’s promenade. Shops faced out like caves in the cliffs of metal, signs washing the floor with their brilliant glows. Spacers in jumpsuits, jackets and more casual wear mingled with the odd alien who had found the station a haven in the wilds of the spaceways. Pirates in more garish garb moved about under the watchful eye of visored security officers, content to let them about their business so long as they didn’t trouble station authority. A world unto itself. A realm of steel girders and hard meteor rock, all lit with the garish hues of neon scaling walls and buildings. There were no proper lamps in the station, only the signs, filling the air with sharp humming hues of reds, greens and violets, leaving the rest to darkness.

  Janna breathed in deeply the stale recycled air and smiled.

  Home.

  She started off, wandering down to deck six. A glance about showed few she recognized. Hardly surprising. Station SS9 was more of a stopping place. Mostly spacers lugging cargo, stopping by for fuel, food, or whatever technically illegal and illicit materials were available at the station. Being so far from the Ring Worlds meant that laws normally tightly enforced were loosened for the right price. Pirates mingled with reputable merchants. Whores in clothing made of holographic light which did nothing to hide bulges of breasts and cock spoke with sweaty spacers. She saw a flicker of light from an alley, and the sight of one such sampling the merchandise had her blushing and hurrying away.

  She herself was a smuggler. A good one by all accounts. In her hold she was carrying fourteen durasteel crates, their swollen, reinforced edges stuffed with Kellin. Valuable in the extreme, it was enough to set her up for the next four years. She smiled at the thought, stuffing her hands into her pockets. Maybe she’d buy some time with a whore to celebrate…

  “Janna!”

  Janna turned in surprise and stared at the woman rushing across the floor. She was dressed in a security uniform, the dark blue fabric straining against her curves. Huge breasts that defied gravity and wide supple hips that swung with her every sultry stride. A belt rode those hips, loaded with a blaster and shockstick. Her hair streamed behind her in a platinum blonde ponytail, poking from underneath the visored helmet in what was surely not regulation dress. Every eye followed her as she passed, the world seeming to stop for those caught in her wake.

  The woman stumbled to a halt. Her breast rose and fell with her heaving breath, nipples bulging against the tight fabric of her zipsuit. “Janna! As soon as I heard the Falin came in I had to come down.” She pressed a button on the side of her helmet and the visor snapped up. The face it revealed was stunningly beautiful. Bright blue eyes, puffy, kissable lips curled in a delighted grin and a button nose. Something in the eyes drew Janna.

  “…Dava?”

  Dava laughed musically and clapped her hands, the movement sending her breasts jiggling. “You didn’t recognize me, did you?” she said.

  Janna blushed and shook her head. “No. Not at all. You’re…wow! Look at you.”

  Dava grinned and brushed her fingers carelessly through her hair. “Thanks! Not bad, hm?”

  “Not bad at all. How…”

  Dava leaned forward, her voice falling to a conspiratorial whisper. “There’s this new shop on deck six. Really out of the way thing, but there’s a man in there. Some kind of gene worker. He does wonders! Really.”

  “Splicing?” Jana gasped. “That’s…”

  Dava waved her hand airily. “Please Janna. We’re not in the inner rings. We’re about as far as you can get! Besides,” she added with a wolfish grin, squeezing her breasts together to show their firmness. “You can’t get this by playing be the rules.”

  Janna swallowed hard at the sight and looked around warily. She leaned forward. “This shop. It’s…”

  “This way!”

  Slender fingers grasped her wrist and pulled her forward. Janna stumbled, towed behind the bouncing security officer. She found her eyes straying to her Dava’s rear, globes starkly defined against the skin-tight fabric of her suit.

  “We’re here!”

  Janna started, recalling herself. They were on a part of the deck she had never been before. A bright neon green sign stared out from the drab grey steel of the wall, declaring Morinth’s Modifications open for business. The windows were shuttered with durasteel panels and next door was a brothel, a wall of red light masking the interior. Yet she found her eyes again and again drawn to the dark shop tucked quietly in its bay.

  “He’s in here. Come on!”

  “Dava!”

  But the blonde had already vanished through the doors. Janna looked about again, but curiosity got the better of her, and she stepped inside the shop.

  The interior was dimly lit with the same neon green as the sign outside. Shadows gathered in corners and beneath the tangle of chrome machinery and plasteel tables. Designer pods lay against a far wall, their bases slanting them slightly upwards. Tubes traced across the ceiling, tangling until she couldn’t tell where they began or ended. Holo displays buzzed and threw up column of light in which naked women slowly danced.

  Dava was easy to spot. Her blonde hair fairly shone in the darkness. She was leaning forward, elbows on a desk, once more showcasing her glorious hips and ass to the world, chatting happily at a man. He was of middle years, his hair brown and falling about his face in careless curls as he leaned back in a chair. His eyes were masked by a wrap around visor of lime green light and the mouth below was turned to a look of bored disinterest. A white lab coat hung from his narrow shoulders, open at the front and revealing a dark shirt and pants drawn tight against a slender frame.

  “Here she is!” Dana chirped, gesturing towards Janna. The man turned her way, the neon green band shimmering with a wash of refreshing pixels.

  “Welcome,” he said with a lazy gesture to the depths of the dark laboratory. “Welcome to Morinth’s Modifications. I’m Morinth.”

  Janna peered about the shop thoughtfully. “Yeah.” Picking up a canister from a table she turned it over thoughtfully. “So…what is it you do here?”

  He cocked his head curiously towards Dava, who giggled and shrugged. He sighed deeply, rising and moving from behind the desk. He spread out towards the lurid darkness of the shop. “I’m a geneticist. What I do is take what a person is and turn them into what they want to be.”

  Janna peered at Dava, then the holo displays. “Gene splicing. Yeah. Isn’t that illegal?”

  “How observant of you,” he said dryly. “But, th
at is why I do so love the Outer Sectors. Laws are much more bendable. They allow freer reign to do what I must to advance the cause of science.”

  Dava meaningfully hefted her breasts with a wink.

  Janna swallowed thickly. “Yeah. Right…”

  “And naturally,” Morinth said, sitting on the edge of the desk, arms outspread on the gleaming steel. “They allow me to fund my research by using my skills to give people what they want. Genes.” He made an airy gesture as if brushing aside something insubstantial and unimportant. “Things that define us when we are born. Is it fair? If we are able, shouldn’t we be able to change what we are? Become what we were meant to be?”

  Janna watched as Dava sat next to him, perching on the corner of the table, head tilted and long lashes fluttering. Almost carelessly, Morinth reached around her, running a hand along her hip. The security officer’s bright red lips rose in a flirtatious smile. She struck a pose, moving like the woman projected from the holo vids.

  “To have the curves,” Morinth said, running his hand up Dava’s hip to her slim waist. “The hips. The ass.” His hand slapped Dava’s firm bum with an echoing smack, the security officer jumping with a laugh, then gasping as his hands found her palm filling tits. “The breasts. Why should nature decide what we deserve when we can do so much better? Dava is an excellent example of such efforts.”

  “Mmmm,” Dava moaned, head thrown back, pushing her pillowy breasts into Morinth’s hands. He casually groped her through the thin fabric of her zipsuit.

  Janna squirmed, suddenly and acutely aware of her own slender frame. “It’s just…You know. A little worrisome to let someone have that kind of influence on your body...”

  “Oh, there’s nothing to worry about,” Dava giggled. “I’m fine, and Professor Morinth has been all over my body.”

  “Quite.” The man released her suddenly and moved away, ignoring Dava’s pout. He had an odd grace to his movements. Something almost serpentine. Gliding across the floor, Morinth slapped a button on the wall. A door hissed open, and a machine slid out.

  It looked like a chair, but not like one Janna had ever seen. Gleaming chrome arm rests and legs sporting comfortable looking bands. It had no seat, but rather a strange webbing like a fishing net suspended below. It was all built atop a metal platform and supported by a number of piston reinforced limbs. As she watched, Morinth tapped a screen and the whole thing retracted with a whirr to something like a normal sitting position. A number of mechanical arms were poised over it, frozen like silver cobras waiting to strike.

  “It’s all perfectly safe,” Morinth said with a bored gesture. “So…pedestrian. I simplify the process with stages, as many are not comfortable with a more in-depth alteration. The first will merely change your body a bit. Make it shapelier, as you may have wanted. The second ramps up your libido, and increases sensitivity. A slap on the ass will practically make you cum on the spot. I could go into specifics,” he said with a tilt of his head. “But I doubt you would care.”

  Dava shivered from some carnal memory. “It’s so good Janna,” she purred, wrapping her arms about herself and writhing atop the desk.

  Janna hesitated. She glanced between the man with the neon green visor hiding his eyes and the chair in the middle of the room. Then back to Dava, who had come down from her delighted behaviour and was giving her an encouraging look. Dava was a security officer, after all. Sure, all of them on Station 9 were hopelessly corrupt. But she was her friend, and would she really encourage her to take such a procedure if it wasn’t safe?

  But Janna would lie to herself if she didn’t admit the very real temptation which seemed to pull her towards that chair. To trust herself to the masked man’s ministrations. She had never been ashamed of her body. But she had always known acutely that she was merely pretty. She had a narrow frame, more like a small bird’s thanks to the years in zero g’s. Her hair was messy and she never turned the eyes of men without some very real effort on her part.

  She again looked to Dava. Shapely and curvy Dava with her flush spankable ass and heavy breasts. The sort of figure which would be splashed on the interior of a locker and thrown up on screens advertising something requiring her to be naked. The sort of woman that made others wish they could be her.

  Janna swallowed, and then gave a very shaky nod. “I guess I could try…”

  Dava clapped her hands delightedly and Morinth shrugged carelessly. “Good. Now, if you would please climb into the saddle…”

  “Saddle?” Janna squeaked.

  “Oh, that’s just what he calls it,” Dava said carelessly, already propelling Janna towards the gleaming seat of surgical steel and rubbery cord. “He has the funniest names for things!”

  Morinth said nothing as he moved to a series of panels growing out of a column of fibreoptic cables.

  “You sure it’s safe?” Janna said uneasily as Dava lowered her onto the chair.

  “’Course,” Dava chirped. The shackles make a sharp snapping sound as she closed them about Janna’s unresisting wrists. “It’ll be fine. Morinth is an expert you know! He even has a degree. You’re not the first he’s put on this.”

  Janna nodded uncertainly. Moments later she was secured in the chair. She shifted, the straps about her wrists and ankles padded and comfortable. But she couldn’t help but feel how her chair had no seat, the curious webbing of steel stretching with her weight until it cradled her like a hammock. Her hips were pushed apart, and she felt particularly vulnerable with her clothed mons on full display and her arms and legs bound helplessly to the chair.

  “She’s ready Morinth!” Dava called over her shoulder.

  Morinth glanced around, the neon green of his visor running with numbers and data. He nodded with a vague satisfaction. “Hmm. It will do. Are you comfortable?”

  Janna shifted in the restraints uneasily. “I guess so. And you’re sure this is harmless?”

  “Yes yes. Now relax. It will go far easier if you do.”

  “But- “

  “Your questions really are tiresome,” he said, and pressed a screen.

  A whirring rose from the apparatus above the chair. Janna jerked back her head in time to see several mechanical arms detach from the main body and descend. Rounded tips drew back their rubbery black sheathes and unveiled long tipped needles. Janna’s eyebrows flew open at the sight of the churning green vials held beneath. Like some horrible mechanical insect, the arms closed upon her.

  “W-wait! Maybe I-ahhh!” She cried out as the needles pierced her modest breasts. There was a hydraulic hiss, and she felt a sudden warmth suffuse her.

  “O-oh stars,” Janna groaned as a tingling numbness spread across her chest.

  “The numbness is common side effect,” Morinth said as his fingers danced across the monitors. Their glow threw a dark light against him. “As is the arousal.”

  Janna shuddered. “W-wait. The what- “

  Lust hit her like a freight train. She jolted, and were it not for the restraints she probably would have thrown herself across the room. “Oh God!” Janna moaned. The crotch of her pants grew suddenly dark with her juices. Pleasure shot down her nerves like bolts. The soft cushion of the restraints tingled across her skin. She felt acutely the digging pressure of her weight on the netting which bound her toned ass. She groaned, quivering helplessly in her chair. “Oh. Oh fuck. Oh God…”

  Morinth raised his head, lips twisted with mild exasperation at the mess of quivering lust Janna has become. “Dava. Could you do something about that?”

  Dava clapped her hands with delight. “Oh, I would love to!”

  Janna’s vision swam as her head throbbed with the wild animal need. Her hips twitched as she saw Dava approach, pulling down the zipper of her security uniform. The zipper’s hiss seemed drawn out, its journey down her creamy flesh teasingly slow to stop just above her groin.

  Her breasts, long restrained, burst free. Creamy flesh with flushed areola. Nipples hard as bullets and quivering to be touched and tast
ed.

  “Oh finally. This suit is sooo restricting,” Dava giggled, mashing her tits lustily.

  Janna’s tongue clove to the roof of her mouth. Her brain was on overdrive. Animal need pulsed through her heated cunt as she stared at the feminine perfection that was Dava.

  “How about we get rid of those pants, shall we?” Dava said.

  “Nnn. Y-yes,” Janna managed to gasp.

  Dava tut-tutted. “You didn’t say please.”

  Janna only managed a pained groan of desperate arousal in reply.

  Sighing, Dava rolled her eyes in exaggerated exasperation. “Oh well. I suppose I’ll forgive you this once.” Going to her knees, Dava grabbed the groin of Janna’s pants and easily parted the front, peeling it from the spacer’s clutching cunt. Dava whistled faintly. “Mmm. Looks like you really need this.”

  Janna managed a keening moan of confirmation.

  With a flirtatious giggle Dava braced herself on Janna’s twitching thighs and leaned in. She breathed the other woman’s florid scent, her eyes lidding with satisfaction. Then she buried her face in the spacer’s cunt.

  Janna threw back her with a cry as Dava’s skilled tongue plunged into her gash. “Oh. Ooooh!”

  Dava hummed as she eagerly licked and tasted her companion’s sex, her tongue teasing Janna’s buzzing clit from its hood before delicately kissing it, then sucking on the twitching bead of pleasure.

  Janna thrashed in her bindings. Her breasts and ass burned with sweet pleasure. Her cunt clenched, orgasm ripping a scream from her as she came on Dava’s tongue and face.

  Dava pulled back, licking some of the juices which coated her. She gasped in delight. “Look Janna! It’s starting.”

  Janna didn’t need to ask what. Her breasts ached wonderfully, and before her eyes began to grow. They strained her normally comfortable flight suit, stretching the shining fabric of her shirt and jacket until it was almost painful. The feeling was mirrored in her ass as it swelled, globes filling the webbing of the seat and the fabric of her pants.