Sex Categories:

Mobile Trailer girl Videos

A bonus for working late.


Blink. I wanted my babble back. If I answered any of his questions, it would start a slippery slope into becoming their puppet. Again, shit.

He coughed. "So let's begin with a some basics. Are you sexually active?"

I thought, don't answer him. But what could I do? I resisted, but that made the urge to help stronger. Wait. Don't resist. I blinked and let my stupid bimbo take over. I opened the front door of my mind and pointed a welcoming hand down the inner most corridors of my soul. I thought, come in my happy bimbo-ness. Come in.

Oh how, the warmth poured inside me. It entered me. Flooded me. It was like being fucked by a guy who hadn't gotten his rocks off in weeks. It was an endless warm liquid stream filling me where all my talkativeness had gone absent.

"Ms. Madison."

"What's the question again?"

"Are you sexually active Ms. Madison?"

"Nope." Blink. Pause. Ok, let it go mad little Maddie. "Not at all. I just lie there. Totally motionless." Blink. Blink. Bingo! And he knew it.

His eyes rolled.

I sat all pretty and demur and attentive in his fancy wingback chair. I crossed my stocking covered legs and rested my hands on my knees. I smiled with a blank look. They always believed that for some reason. Oh, how I was having a wonderful orgasm. He never knew it. Blink. Blink. I never thought that bimbos could fap. It was against the rules. But there I was right in front of him. Mmmm, fappiddy fap fap. I broke the rules. More fap. Blink.

"Eeee!" There was a mouse in the courtyard. Shit. Another memory popped into my head.

I was tied down into a large glass coffin or aquarium or death chamber or water chamber, but it was dry. Just water board me now fuckers! Let my bimbo programming erase my mind. I wanted the torture. I wanted how my programming defense mechanism that I designed would initiate the bimbo spy covert safeties and erase everything I knew forever. Do it! Erase me now!

"Madison," said Jack -- a guard, one of Mr. Green's fucking technicians. "You're profile says you had a childhood fear of mice."

Shit. I knew where this was going.

Jack smirked. He was ready to do something to me. It was clear he had prepared.

"You know Maddie, if you torture a bimbo, she'll erase her mind. Perfect for a captured spy."

Like duh dude. I'm the Chief Scientist. Check the chart. Or I used to be. Blink.

"But," he said, "childhood fears are a back door." He picked up a shoebox sized plastic bin. Lab mice. He poured dozens of the little critters into the glass coffin with me. It doesn't bother me, but my bimbo side hasn't reacted yet. It was a childhood fear. I was fine. No, wait.

I begged my mind to feel tortured and erase me. I watched the little animals as they climbed over my body. They tangled in my hair. They pushed over my face. My childhood fear was returning, but it wasn't torture -- it was worse. It was deeper. My speculations of forgotten fears being a back door to a bimbo were all true. Shit. I wasn't going to be able to fight this. I screamed at the top of my lungs. My heart raced in terror.

Jack nodded happily. He took notes.

I vowed to get him for this. I screamed again. Thank god they didn't have my bimbo code. I had a secret about that and I prayed it would get me through even this cruelty. My mind was locked. Even I couldn't get at it.

"Hi Jacky-wacky," I said so lovingly as I trotted down the hallway. I ran into Jack. Literally. "Duh!" I said pretending to have hit my little head.

He got angry, pushed me off, and walked away. He used to always spank me when he got close, but Ms. Red yelled at him. Mmm, Ms. Hotheaded Executive Red.

I looked down to my hands. I had picked Jack's pocket and held his cell phone in my hands now. How many times have I done this? I looked at it. I rub its flatty-watty smoothy-woothy glass screen. Now what? It's hard for a bimbo to conspire against evil, because -- what was I thinking? Oh yeah! I have a shiny object. I sat and played with the phone. I even rubbed it between my legs.

Focus Maddie. Focus.

I trotted to the courtyard -- l

2019 © All Rigths Reserved. All models were 0ver 18 y.o.