Bimboquill: The Secret Files of Dr. Funkenstein

Part: Three

Sophia handled her own Bimboquill after that. For the first few days, I came home to find her masturbating wildly against the radiator, eyes locked on the pills like a woman watching her last thread of sanity fray. It was always fun to see the moment she broke, pouring the pills down her own throat in frantic display of gluttony. I didn’t give her new clothes. She still wore the same things she’d come in with. Where once there’d been a flat chest hanging loose on her torso, there now sprouted an acre of cleavage—rosy red areolas peeking above the neckline of her tanktop. Sophia no longer bothered with a bra—she couldn’t with the sudden growth—and it didn’t seem to concern her. Her modesty shrank while her assets expanded. It was a delicious combination. As the pills ran their course and her arousal grew omnipresent, Sophia’s tits would fall out of her shirt. It took longer and longer for her to stuff them back inside their cotton confines. It was Sophia’s ass, though, that grew into her crowning achievement. The little asian’s butt developed a delicious bubble. It jiggled when she walked. At some point, her hips grew too wide to fit inside her old jeans. She abandoned them and chose to walk around in a grey thong that seemed to grow smaller by the day, disappearing slowly into the crack of her ass. We never had sex. Sophia drew a line in the sand. She sucked cock eagerly, but I think she believed that if she could just resist a dicking long enough then she could go back to normal. It was a foolish hope, of course. Everyday she sank deeper into her addiction, and the pills held back her urges less and less. She went through two bottles of Bimboquill a day, yet still spent hours with her hand between her thighs. True, the constant moaning got annoying, but it’s hard to get mad at a sex slave for being too horny.

* * *

I paid back the money I owed the University, and I did it with a month to spare. Sean threw a party at his new house. It was nice. With all the drug money he raked in, he bought a place on a tall hill overlooking the city in a wonderful neighborhood. When I looked out at night from his balcony, the entire city lay below me, twinkling in the darkness. To be honest, it made me a little jealous. My entire customer base turned out for the party. Bimboquill had done its work well. The boring coeds who once ran from class to class in jeans and sweaters, now paraded in lycra and latex. Tall heels and short skirts were order of the day. Sean seated himself like a king in the midst of his harem, feet propped on a coffee table and arm wrapped around the shoulders of a large breasted redhead. It hit me then what I’d done. However this ended, that girls would never be the same. “You’re looking a little pale there, buddy,” Sean said. “Cheer up. This is supposed to be a happy moment. You’re out from under the university and I just bought a house. The world could not be looking better.” I twisted and turned an envelope I clutched in my hands, the receipt for my ‘donation’ to the university. I forced a smile onto my face. “I’m fine. Everything’s fine.” Sean finished his beer. He pushed the girl on the left arm to her feet. She tottered and jiggled in place, struggling to regain her balance on six inch stiletto heels. “Dedra, go get me another beer,” Sean said. “Dr. Funkenstein and I need to talk about some things.” Dedra pouted and licked her lips, leaning forward to put her considerable bust on display. “When are you going to take me upstairs?” “Shit, bitch, I don’t know. I’ll fuck you when I’m ready,” Sean said. “That beer ain’t gonna fetch itself.” “You got the stuff? I need a bump. How’s about a little advance? I don’t screw for free.” “Yeah you do,” Sean said with a dry chuckle. He pulled a pill bottle from his pocket and tossed it to her. Dedra’s eyes went wide. “Take what you need, whore, but don’t overdo it. I wanna put that ass of yours to work later.” His palm cracked across Dedra’s ample butt. She left with a yelp and blush. Sean turned back to me. “I’ve got a thing for redheads,” he explained. “Dedra studied theology. Used to be a big time Roman Catholic. Went to mass every Sunday, said her nightly prayers like a good little girl, and confessed all her naughty misdeeds to her priest. When we met she was a week from pulling on the habit and saying her vows. Now look at her. God bless Bimboquill.” “You’re a little harsh,” I said. “Well how do you keep your sluts in line?” Leash and collar, I thought. “I’m going to stop selling the drug. Things are spinning out of control, and it’s only a matter of time before the cops start sniffing around. I just paid off my bills and I want to get out.” A frown darkened Sean’s face. “You aren’t going soft on me, are you?” “No, it’s just that Bimboquill isn’t what I intended it to be, and I’m not comfortable turning a nun like Dedra into a whore. That’s not normal.” “You intended Bimboquill to be an explosive,” Sean said. “Don’t tell me the thought of a big tittied women at your beck and call doesn’t thrill you.” “Besides, what are you going to do for money? Your father won’t speak to you, you’re never going to invent anything that’s half as awesome as Bimboquill, and did I mention the women? Sluts of every shape and size. Your balls will never be full. What more can a man want?” “They lose their agency,” I said, but the defense sounded weak even to my ears. “They’re barely even human. They didn’t choose this life.” “Fuck ’em,” Sean answered with a wave. “If it bothers you so much, we’ll slap a caution label on the sides of the bottle. ‘Warning: Side Effects May Include Amazing Sex and a More Attractive Body.’ I’ve never met a person that didn’t want to be on Bimboquill.” “I have,” I answered, thinking of Sophia. “And I bet she changed her tune after that first orgasm. I swear, these girls cum like howitzers.” I didn’t have a chance to respond. Just then, Didi slammed Sean’s bedroom door open and stumbled into the stairway overlooking the party. Two burly men supported her between them. A micro dress sewn from the packages of used condoms stretched tight across her obscene frame. Brilliant gold hair cascaded around her shoulders, held in place by a layer of sweat and cum so thick it dripped from her skin. Great pearly drops darkened the stairway carpet. An unfocused and glassy look clouded Didi’s eyes. She clutched an empty bottle of Jameson in one hand and a bag of pink powder in the other. The crowd stared in silence. Didi raised the whiskey to her lips and began to chug. She lifted a single finger to her audience in the universal symbol of ‘wait’. The bottle emptied. Didi swayed in place. She chucked the green glass against the wall where it landed with a shattering crash. “To Bimboquill!” she screamed, flicking open a pocket knife and stabbing it into the side of the plastic bag. Pink powder rained across the party. Every girl in the room inhaled, a dull, drunk smile tugging at their lips. “To Bimboquill!” the crowd answered in a raucous chorus. They paired up, dragging each other into alcoves and corners. Sweaty bodies moved in unison, backs arched to the ceiling. Cries of ecstacy tore from every tongue, floating down hallways and into rooms. Didi moved like lust incarnate. One man after another followed her into bathrooms and bedrooms and hallways. She dragged them by their lapels, by their pants, by their stiff cocks, taking all comers in a whorish display of wanton hedonism. Cum poured from her holes and down her thighs in a river of white. I tried to drink the doubt away. It didn’t work, so I left. I couldn’t watch the party devolve any further into an orgy. I was drunk and pissed and now questioned every decision I’d ever made, and, in the end, I vomited in a bush a block and a half from the house.

* * *

The heavy oak door shut behind me with a slam. Darkness pressed in. I dropped my keys into their bowl and tripped over a corner of carpet, crashing into a potted cactus with a drunken yelp of pain. “Honey, I’m home,” I slurred, stumbling deeper into the cabin. Sophia lay with her back pressed against the radiator. Four of her knuckles drove themselves into her exposed cunt. A moan slipped through her lips, and she stared at me with a desperate hunger. “Fuck me. Oh please God, somebody fuck me,” she whispered, her hand moving faster. “I need cock.” Three empty bottles of Bimboquill lay beside her. Ivory fingers squeezed and pulled at a massive tit, ebony hair circling her shoulders in a shimmering wave. A pair of epicanthic folds tugged at Sophia’s eyes. They created a face that proclaimed innocence even as her body screamed ‘whore’. “I don’t suppose you’ll shut up long enough for me to sleep?” I asked. “I’ve had a confusing night and just want to get to bed.” “The Bimboquill isn’t working, Dr. Funkenstein,” she moaned, pistoning faster. “Please, just fuck me. I don’t care who, just somebody fuck me.” My erection surged in my jeans, pressing painfully against the denim. She was the result of my work. Bimboquill turned Sophia into the perfect little fuck pet because of me. I fed the pills to her; I tied her to a radiator; I basted my cock in pink powder and let her suck. Sure, I could justify Didi and Krystal and all the rest by arguing that they took the pills willingly, but in Sophia my sins shone clear. The thought aroused and disturbed me. My belt buckle dropped to the wood floor with a metallic clatter. I unlocked Sophia’s collar and placed my hand on her ass, squeezing. She let out a sharp sigh and pressed against me. Lubricant streamed down her thigh, soaking the head of my cock as I positioned it at her entrance. “You want your captor to fuck you?” I growled. “Yes,” Sophia moaned, gasping the word. She shoved against my dick, but I stopped her with my palm.” “You want me to bend you over?” “Yes!” “You want me to make you scream?” “Yes, oh hell yes!” “What does that make you?” I asked. “Who has big tits, a tight ass, and is always on her back?” “Just fuck me. Please Dr. Funkenstein, just fuck me!” My palm cracked upon her ass in a sound that echoed through the cabin. The red print of my palm blossomed across her backside. “What does that make you!” “A slut,” Sophia whispered, shame darkening her cheeks. “I’m a slut.” Cock met cunt in a dual cry of ecstasy. Sophia arched her back and dug her nails into the wood. She raised and lowered herself on my shaft, chanting the words in a mantra of self-gratification. “I’m a slut, I’m a slut, I’m a slut,” she whispered over and over again, raising in tempo and volume with movement of her hips. It was an affirmation, a declaration of identity. Each thrust of my cock pounded the idea into her skull. Vaginal walls tightened around my shaft. A flood of warmth, of heat, radiated from her groin, and her nails dragged across the floor. Lips parted in a long and silent moan. Muscles grew taut, and an unholy energy pulsed through her. When the orgasm came, she screamed and went limp. I kept humping, driving my cock deep into her insides. My own orgasm neared. I flipped her over and took one of her nipples in my mouth, wrapping my lips around its hardened nub. Sweat poured off my brow in a stream. Blood pulsed through my shaft, the veins growing taut and ready. A white hot blast of cum fired out of me, filling Sophia’s slit. Her cunt trapped the seed inside itself and drained my balls with all the skill of seasoned whore. Then it was done. I went limp, panting. Sophia, though, wasn’t finished. She lifted and dropped on my softening shaft. “More,” she moaned. “Please fuck me more.” Darkness swirled around me. The alcohol and sexual exhaustion dragged me off to sleep.

* * *

The next morning I woke chained to the radiator. Light spilled through parted curtains to cast a beam of piercing brightness across my floor. I cringed and squinted against the light. My head hurt, my body hurt, and my mouth tasted like I’d eaten a sandwich of ass and vomit. The leather collar dug into my windpipe, making breathing difficult. I decided right then that for future incarcerations drunk me is no longer allowed to handle prisoner management. The leash held when I pulled, but that wasn’t a big surprise. The thing kept Sophia in bondage for months. I slumped against the wall, closing my eyes. My temple throbbed. Time seemed to flow like molasses. The damn ticking of that plastic clock dragged my attention back its passage each time my attention wandered. My front door cracked open. I hadn’t heard the knock. “Mr. Julian Lebowitz, are you home? It’s the police. We have a matter we’d appreciate if you cleared up.” Crap. “In here,” I called, choking against the collar. Heavy boots clonked down the hall and into the living room. Two broad shouldered policeman in mirrored sunglasses stopped in front of me. One was bald, the other moustached, and they stared at me with light amusement tugging at the corners of their mouths. “That’s quite a predicament he’s got himself in, Officer Black,” the bald one said. “Quite a predicament indeed, Officer White,” the moustached one said. “How do you think he landed himself in such a position?” “Surely through entirely legal and legitimate means.” “Would you two quit your bit and cut me free?” I said, anger creeping into my voice. “This thing hurts.” Officer Black flicked a pocket knife through the leather. It and the leash clattered to the floor with a loud rattle. I went to the kitchen and grabbed a jug of water from the fridge, chugging it until it was empty. My next stop was the bathroom where I took the biggest shit of my life. When my post hangover needs were taken care of, I came back to the living room to find police sipping tea out of a pair of thermos cups. A half empty bottle of Bimboquill sat on the coffee table in front of them. “Where’d you get that?” I snapped, forgetting myself for a moment. “He wants to know where we got the pills, Officer White,” Officer Black said. “Off of his friend, of course,” Officer White said. “Mr. Lebowitz, do you know a woman by the name of Sophia Nguyen?” “Never heard of her.” “She seems to know you,” Officer Black said. “Quite a story to tell, that girl. Claims you kidnapped her and tied her up in much the same position we found you. She must have had thirty of those pill bottles on her, empty of course.” “I don’t know anything about those pills.” “No, no, of course you don’t,” Officer White said. “Such an upstanding citizen like yourself wouldn’t know anything about experimental narcotics.” “Quite a beautiful woman, that Sophia,” Officer Black said. “And so eager. The boys at the station really enjoyed experiencing her… charms.” “What I wouldn’t do for a girl like that at home, eh Officer Black?” “Indeed.” They took a long sip of tea. Then, simultaneously, set their cups on my coffee table. “What did she call Mr. Lebowitz, Officer White?” “Dr. Funkenstein.” “Isn’t that the same gentleman responsible for manufacturing all of that... Oh darn, what was it called?” “Bimboquill. And yes, he is.” Officer Black smiled big and white. “Yes, Bimboquill. That was it. Wonderful stuff. You wouldn’t happen to know who Dr. Funkenstein is, would you, Mr. Lebowitz?” “I think I should call my lawyer,” I said firmly. “No, no, no,” Officer White said, smiling even wider than his partner. “Lawyers are so expensive. There are much cheaper ways to deal with the law. Isn’t that right, Officer Black?” “Indeed, Officer White.” I looked from one to the other, piecing it all together. When I figured it out, I stood up and went to my closet. In a compartment hidden beneath the floorboards, I kept an emergency stash of money and pills. While I was asleep, Sophia got into my main pile of drugs, but she missed the stash. I pulled out two large stacks of ten thousand dollars apiece and a gallon jug filled with Bimboquill. I put the cash and pills on the table in front of the officers. “If you gentlemen will excuse me for a moment, I have an urgent matter I must take care of,” I said, going to the bathroom to take another dump. When I came out the cash, the pills, and the police were all gone.

* * *

The board expelled me. Despite the money I sent, the board did not look kindly on my case. Without my father’s name backing the check they had no reason to keep me around. Luckily, they didn’t press charges. I don’t think the school board gave a shit about me or the statue. It was the Dean that pushed for my expulsion. I got him back, though. I broke into his house and replaced his water filter with one made from Bimboquill. Last I heard his wife was sucking dick for bus fare. Didi followed me out of the university a few weeks later. Security caught her with her chemistry professor’s cock buried in her ass. The professor got fired and Didi lost her scholarship. It was probably for the best. She didn’t have much of a mind for chemistry anymore. If there’s one person that benefited from this whole ordeal, it’s Sean. He opened a strip club to help launder his money. It was the perfect occupation for the greasy bastard. I sold him Bimboquill, and he turned around to use its effects to maintain a steady supply of strippers and whores. As for me? I sell drugs to keep my experiments funded. Science is expensive, but the results can be quite fun.

END