Tabitha Kohls's Blog

Greetings all!

A few months ago I started a Patreon and SubscribeStar page, and posted today's story there a few weeks ago as a bit of bonus content.

Now I'm posting the story here (and I have another bonus short story for the Patrons):

Today's story is essentially a loose sequel to my old story, 'The Man at Table Six', or my more recent 'Thank You For Staring'. Basically, a weird guy with unexplained and inexplicable reality-distorting powers has fun shopping for women's undergarments.

It's also inspired by the old Mr. Grey story, 'An Afternoon Well Spent', and its sequels, but with rather more bosom-related tomfoolery.

Story is after the break, as always, I hope you enjoy it, and please feel free to tell me what you think of it.

- Tabitha


"Code Eleven, Tiff. We've got a peeper," muttered the clerk, as she passed her supervisor. Not turning, she gestured over her shoulder. "In the back, Aisle Six."
Tiffany sighed, putting down her label maker. The clerk just shrugged, then plastered a fresh smile on her face and left to help a customer fumbling with the bikinis near the store entrance.
"Dammit."
As the Head Manager of the lingerie store, it was Tiffany's job to deal with Peeping Toms. It seemed like every day she had to run at least one ogling man-boy out of the store, and somehow manage the task without making a scene or involving mall security.
"Six, of course," she muttered, sighing. The aisle was a favorite of teenage boys, what with its line of bloated manikins practically bursting out of their clothes. The laughter usually alerted her to the adolescent intruders even before the clerks did.
For some reason the store's marketing firm had decided to start pandering to the plus-size crowd, creating a new line of lingerie for the demographic. Tiffany shook her head, and started for the back of the store.
She found him, as expected, standing in the middle of the row, ogling the manikins.
Tiffany blinked, as the man smiled at her. There was something... wrong. Wrong with him. She frowned, wondering briefly if she should alert security after all. Her instincts were usually pretty good.
He saw her. But instead of quickly looking away, and sheepishly moving on, like most 'Code Elevens' did, the man merely smiled back at her. He gave an almost imperceptible nod of the head, gesturing at one of the new manikins.
She looked up at the plus-sized manikins, and rolled her eyes. For some reason, marketing had decided that "plus-sized" only referred to a woman's chest measurements. There had been a memo, explaining the rise in popularity of plastic surgery, especially breast augmentation, among the store's chief customer base. The boxes of E-through-HHH cup bras had arrived with the memo.
The Head Manager had thought it a ridiculous marketing campaign, but she had to admit, the extra-large bras had certainly come in handy since her own silicone sweater stuffers were installed last month.
Tiffany tugged at her bright pink tube top, frowning as it squeezed her chest tightly. She sighed in annoyance. Even with the handy new ultra-bra line, she still had a hell of time finding tops that fit her new melons.
She made a mental note to send an email to corporate, requesting they expand to plus-sized tops. Or at least offer uniform tops for the overly-endowed employees, like herself.
Tiffany pulled the spandex tube around her chest, until the store logo was centered again. It seemed like every ten steps she took, she had to adjust her top again.
Pulling her eyes up from her chest, she turned her attention back to the man.
"Can I help you, sir?"
She put on her fakest of smiles, filling her voice with every bit of scorn she could, while just barely staying within corporate guidelines for customer relations.
The man didn't seem to notice her tone, still staring up at the plastic statue's torpedo tits.
"Nah, just browsing."
Tiffany closed her eyes, silently cursing her life. Why did men have to be so much trouble?
"Sir, I'm sure if you just told me what you were looking for, I could help." Help get you on your way, she mentally amended. At least there aren't any other women back here. Maybe I can still get him out of the store before he starts scaring customers off.
"Well... I was actually thinking that--" he gestured at the manikin's top. "--would look good on my girlfriend."
As if this creep has a girlfriend, she thought, but kept her smile on. "Of course, sir. Do you know what her measurements are?"
He frowned, "Measurements?'
Tiffy sighed, just barely stopping herself from rolling her eyes. "Her tits, how big are they?'
"Oh... hmm." He looked her up and down. "Can you turn sideways, miss?"
This time she couldn't stop the eye-roll. Tightening her smile, Tiffy nodded, turning her side to him, and pushing her chest out. Her H-cups swung out before her, bobbing perkily like twin diving boards of titflesh.
"Hmm... Yes, I'd say you're just about the right size." Tiffy sighed, and started to face him again. "But she doesn't have those.'
Tiffy frowned, and followed his pointing finger down to her cleavage. It took her a moment to realize what he was talking about.
"Oh, those won't make a difference in the bra-size, sir." She poked at one of the thick, hard bumps tenting the spandex top and distorting the store logo. "I had my nipples injected with fillers the last time I was in the clinic. The store sort of has a policy, they think it helps sell the brand or something."
She shrugged, then winced, as the motion sent her tube top off kilter again. She fumbled with it, until the large 'POKIES' logo was centered again, each thumb-sized nipple poking out like mountains in the 'O' and 'E'.
"Anyway, I think we have some of those bras in back, sir. If you'll wait at the front counter, I'll juggs gept--" Tiffy paused, licking her lips. They still stung from her trip to the clinic the day before. She tried to feign a smile at the man, but the collagen injections were too fresh and her lips barely moved. "--Forry, fer, I'm ffill gebbing uffed to my mew wips."
The man smirked at her lisping. "No problem, babe. I like a nice pair of plump lips as much as the next guy. But I think I'd like to see that bra modeled in person, before I plop down hard cash for it. I mean, sure it looks good on her--" he nodded at the the buxom manikin, "--but I've got to see how it looks on a real set of knockers, you know?"
Titi nodded, understanding. The bras were cheaper than custom-made, sure, but still pretty expensive to just take a guess on. "Sher fing, fer. Waid here, pweezz."
It took her a few minutes to unclasp the bra from the manikin, her inch long, pink-glazed nails making the job far more difficult than it should have been, and then headed for the changing rooms.
"Juggs sit wight dere, fer," she said, gesturing to the chair set up before the changing room stalls, and heading inside.
The doors to the stalls were made of ever-so-slightly fogged glass, ensuring her curves were on good display, but just barely within the tolerances of public nudity laws.
"Well, twat do you fink, fer?" she asked, stepping out of the stall, spinning on her heels as she twirled before the sitting stranger.
The bra was one of the new 'Tunnel-O-Luv' models, designed to squeeze a woman's breasts up and together, creating a very tight line of stunning cleavage. This bra, however, was at least a cupsize too small, which only made the effect more epic.
"It certainly looks good on you," the man admitted. "Though I'm not sure it's as effective as I'd hoped."
Titi frowned, or tried to anyway; her botox injections from her last trip to the clinic next door had left her unable to do much other than raise her eyebrows comically high. As an emotional expression, it was somewhat lacking in versatility.
The man plucked a pen from his shirt pocket. "If you don't mind...?"
Titi kneeled down, thankful as ever for the corporate-mandated knee pads and leaned forward, putting her shelf-like tits practically in the man's lap. Grinning down at her, he lifted the pen above her quivering jugs, and released it.
The pen fell perfectly into her cleavage, sinking half its length in between her inflated globes."Fatisfied?" she asked, smirking as best as her lips and numb facial muscles would allow.
"Not yet, but maybe in a moment," he muttered, flicking the pen with a finger. Her cleavage held the pen in place with surprising pressure. "Hmm...."
The buxom Head Manager knew a sale when she heard one.
Winking up at the man, she bobbed her head down, grasping the pen in between her plump pecker pillows, and pulled it free of her cleavage.
He took the pen from her mouth, with a loud pop that brought stares from the female clientele nearby.
"Thanks, babe. So, does that particular model come with the massage function, or is that extra?"Titi's plump lips cracked into a vaguely smile-like circle of lipgloss, as she ran an inch-long finger nail down each cup, pushing the hidden activator buttons.
Instantly her breasts began to quiver, concentric waves rushing across the taut surface of her chest. The vibrators embedded inside the bra's underwire pulsed rhythmically, sending her permanently swollen nipples crazy and tenting the garment's thin fabric even more.
"Yeppers, baddery-wife of sexteen owers, foolly wechargapple," she replied. A pink fingernail flicked open the small USB ports above each throbbing nipple.
The only downside to the massager function was that it didn't turn off once activated, but she wasn't about to risk a sale by divulging that minor design defect. Titi hadn't been made Head Manager because she was stupid, after all. There were all sorts of other reasons they'd promoted her.
"I don't know," the man said, chewing his lip. He lifted the small tag hanging from the bra strap on her shoulder. "$500 is a lot of money, just for one little bra. It's probably not even rewashable with all those fancy electronics, either."
"Oh no, dey are toddawy, one-humbred percunt stain and wadda poof! See?"
Thinking quickly, she upturned the bottle of water she'd forgotten she had been holding since lunch an hour earlier, drenching her quivering breasts. As promised, the water merely beaded up and ran down the sides of the garment.
But the man seemed unimpressed. "I don't know...."
Titi would've winced if her face had allowed her. Thankfully, her still vibrating silicone wonders caught her attention.
"Why nob twy them out, fer?" She shoved her breasts forward, to better emphasize her words. She knew that no matter how stubborn the customer, no man could resist a free trial.
Her instincts were proven right, as the man finally shrugged and grinned. "Well, okay, you talked me into it."
He started to unbutton his pants, then paused, his erection flexing hard against his zipper. "Oh, but my clothes aren't stain proof?"
She shook her head, blond locks flying about her. "Dong wowwy, fer, I'm a perfessanal."
Titi lowered the man's zipper, working blind since her tits were blocking her view. But then, she was used to that.
Her fingers felt around in his pants, grasping his surprisingly large cock and coaching it out from his underwear and up into her still vibrating, incredibly tight cleavage.
As she began bouncing her titties up and down the stranger's shaft, Titi tried her best to talk dirty to the man. The company's customer relations guidelines were quite clear on how to best enhance a customer's experience, and she always followed guidelines to the letter.
Unfortunately, her latest round of lip enhancements had perhaps been a bit much, after all. The girls at the clinic did warn me, she thought wryly, fifty ccs of filler was too much.
But was it her fault that her sales growth correlated perfectly with the size of her lips?
"Sorry, b-babe, did-didn't qui--iite catch that," the man gasped, his cock throbbing in her tits' vice-like cleavage.
Titi swirled her tongue, her titanium stud clacking against her teeth, as she struggled to make her swollen donut-hole lips move.
"Oohgh, fuv mee fuggs uuu monfer!" she moaned, bouncing her silicone namesakes for all they were worth.
The man shrugged, ignoring her gibberish, and concentrated on her tight, warm, vibrating---
"Fuck!!" he cried, cumming hard between her fake jugs.
Remembering company policy, particularly the rule about all carpet steam cleaning coming out of employees' wages, Titi hurriedly shoved her mouth down over his cock as it erupted from between her breasts.
Gulping quickly, she held on to his cock with her powerful lips, until she was sure each and every drop was safely contained.
"Damn," the man gasped, at last, sitting back in his chair. "I should hit up these women's clothing stores more often."
Titi popped her mouth from his cock, swallowing to avoid any possible spillage, and extricated his rapidly softening manhood from her impossibly tight cleavage.
A few minutes later, Titi handed the man his bag over the front counter, a fresh bra inside. Her own continued vibrating, as it would for the rest of her shift and probably well into the night.
She watched the man leave, satisfied, and nodded with satisfaction of her own. His purchase had added another $5 to her paycheck thanks to her 1% commission, and it was only half-past-one.She scanned the crowded store, seeing a very bored husband sitting in a corner as his flat-chested wife tried on a series of completely irrelevant bras, and smirked. Looks like another customer in need of some Head Management....
***
Outside the store, the stranger smiled, and walked down the crowded mall corridor, beginning his search for a girlfriend to wear his new purchase.
* * * * *The End* * * * *

Greetings! I've finally finished and published a new ebook, and better than that, it has two never before seen stories in one!


As You Wish....
A young sales manager's life is turned upside down when she encounters a genie. But when the tricky creature twists her wishes against her, can she outwit the manipulative genie and come out ahead?

Also included is a second short story, titled 'Faker', involving a realtor-turned-bimbo due to a body-altering curse.
Both stories together bring this ebook to over 10,000 words of bimbo transformation fun!                        
Links:
Amazon
Barnes & Noble
Smashwords




This is a magical transformation story, with an emphasis on bimbofication and wishes-gone-awry. Genie stories are a personal favorite of mine and I had a lot of fun writing this one.

I hope you all enjoy the new book, and a huge thank you to all of you who have already purchased the book. Please let me know what you think of it and the second story as well.

- Tabitha Kohls

Yep, finally a new free story, a quick little bimbo mindcontrol tale, with my favorite theme: bad wishes!
I hope you all enjoy this short tale. Consider it a belated Valentine's Day present, of sorts. ;-)
- TabithaMaster Got Your Tongue?By Tabitha KohlsCopyright 2019
Ditzi Blonde bit her lip, trying to remember where she had left off. Gingerly, she tapped the keypad on the small wall safe.
"Like, I'll try 2-1-7-3? Nopers, wrong again, Ditzy," she tittered, seething inside at her never-ending monologue. "Hmm, maybe it's 2-1-7-4?"
She blinked, as the tiny safe door clicked open unexpectedly.
"YayERRGHH!!"
Ditzi slapped her hand over her big dumb mouth, shutting herself up before her traitorous voice could alert the whole office. After a moment, she relaxed and stared into the open safe. At last, she was free!
For nearly a year she had been sneaking inside Master Coxx's office every chance she could, trying to guess the number to the tiny safe in his desk. It would only allow two wrong numbers a day without sounding the alarm, so it had been very slow going. But at long last, she had hit on the write combination.
Cautiously, she reached into the safe and withdrew the cause of her new existence; a tiny brass lamp. 
"Like, finally. Okie-dokie, genie, time to come on out!"
She rolled her eyes at her bubbly voice, and gently rubbed the lamp, just as Master Coxx had done a year before, back when this was her office and he was the overworked assistant working for her.
A cloud of glowing dust erupted from the lamp, quickly coalescing into a shimmering masculine form floating above the desk. "Who dares disturb my slumber?"
Ditzi held up a hand, silencing the booming voice. She kicked herself for not locking the door. "Like, shhh! Someone might hear! Okay, like, genie, I totz gotta have my three wishes.'
She sighed inwardly, as her mouth turned her words into the same dreadful bimbospeak she had been forced to babble since Master Coxx turned her into this walking caricature with his own three wishes.
Well, technically he had only used his first wish to turn her into this; once she was forced to follow his every command, it had been child's play for him to make her sell him her company. And then to order her to spend her wealth getting these ridiculous implants, and replacing her wardrobe of power suits with the trashy bits of nothing she now wore everywhere. And yet another command to start talking like a bimbo at all times....
She shook her head. "Like, it doesn't matter that Master used his other wishes to, like, make himself superduper rich and make everyone including me think my name was always Ditzi Blonde and not... whatever my dumb name used to be before Master turned me into his obedient, loyal, ball-draining office sexpet--"
Ditzi covered her mouth in annoyance, until her muffled monologue ended. Glaring up at the shimmering magical being, she sputtered, "Genie, I want to make my first wish. I wish--"
This was it, the moment she had dreamed of for nearly a year. She had long fantasized about what she would do once she had the lamp in her possession. How she'd get her revenge on Master Coxx. She had first imaged turning the arrogant twenty-eight year old CEO into a woman, and then making her an even bigger slut than Ditzi had become. But that wasn't nearly cruel enough. She looked across her old office, at the executive washroom. I'm going to love sitting on Master Coxx, once he's my living, sentient toilet!
With glee, she continued her wish, her mind already dreaming of how she'd torment her soon-to-be-former master. "I wish that Master Coxx was... naturally gifted with a penis that was twelve inches long and eight inches in circumference when erect."
Ditzi blinked, suddenly realizing what she had said. "Granted, Mistress," spoke the genie, his voice softer, almost sounding amused. "I hope you are as pleased with your Master's new endowment, as I am sure he will be."
"No, wait, like, that's totz not what I meant to say! Like, I meant, I wish that... my breasts were a full JJJ-cup, since that mean doctor refused to enlarge them that big, even after I promised him a year of free blowjobs."
"Very happily granted, Mistress, and may I commend your choice." Ditzi gasped, as her chest surged outward, tearing her blouse apart in a burst of tittyflesh and cheap fabric!
These aren't my wishes, these are Master's! She struggled to hold her newly inflated bosom, as both her breasts and her sudden revelation threatened to knock her off her feet. Master must have known I might find the lamp, so he implanted these wishes into my head, and must have ordered me to forget all about it!! A sudden realization hit her. I have to get out of here, before I waste my final wish!!!
Ditzi raced for the doorway, holding her mouth tightly closed with one hand and her immense tits with the other. She almost made it, when suddenly, she heard the most horrible sound in all the world:
"*RING* *RING*"
The buxom blonde could only stare in horror as her body spun around of its own accord. Her hand released her mouth and grasped the large phone on her Master's desk.
"CEO Coxx's phone, world's happiest secretary Ditzi Blonde speaking, how may I help you today? Why yes, I am a dumb blonde, how did you gues--"
She hung up the phone and swore as the genie hung up a shimmering black receiver made of dust. 
"You meany! I wish you'd...ugh... make it so that every time I orgasm, the person making me orgasm grows a month younger!"
"Granted." The genie seemed to smile, though without a face that was hard to tell. "I see your Master is even wiser than I had guessed, he found a way around my limitations. It may not be true immortality, but I imagine the two of you will be enjoying many centuries together. Give your owner my regards, whore."
The being chuckled, as his form flowed back into the now useless lamp. Ditzi moaned, as her only hope disappeared.
"That amazingly smart Master, he sure did fool me good, I--" she made an admirably effort to strangle herself, but even as her hands reached out, they shot back between her legs. In seconds she was gasping, her talented fingers bringing her to edge of orgasm.
"Thirty-two is, like, way too old! Master's glorious new cock deserves to be broken in properly, by a super young secretary, not some washed-up old bimbo like me!" As the wave of her first of many orgasms crashed over her, her monologue continued on without her. "Eighteen, here I cumMMM!!!"

*The End*

Greetings! It has been far too long for me to finally get back to publishing. Hopefully I'll get one of my other stories finished soon, to follow this one up.

This ebook is a collection of 9 short stories, which have been previously published on other sites. Though I have edited and partially rewritten them, including a new ending for one of them, this is mostly old content. If you have already read all my other work, then there probably isn't enough new material here to justify buying the book.



Bimbo Vignettes Collection #1A diverse collection of nine short tales, previously published by Tabitha Kohls on her personal blog, and covering subjects ranging from bimbofication, gender change, body modification, and mind control and more! Over 12,000 words of sexy fun!

Links:
Amazon
Barnes & Noble
Smashwords








I am working on a full-length version of "Thank You For Staring", the free story I posted here last year. I think I'm about 2/3rds finished. So it should be finished next.

Also I'm about half finished on a genie story, and Ro-Sham-Bimbo's third installment is also coming along, though I've been rewriting it as one of my big plot points just didn't work in the end.

I hope you all enjoy this ebook anthology, and I'm looking forward to finally getting back to my normal productivity. These past few years, and especially this last year, have been very trying for me, for a lot of reasons. But things seem to be turning around, at long last. Hopefully this new ebook will bode well for my writing in general.

Best wishes to you all,

- Tabitha Kohls

Greetings all! And Merry Christmas!
Sorry about the lack of productivity here, but I think that will change soon. I've made a lot of progress on my next Ro-Sham-Bimbo story; in fact, if not for coming down with a nasty bout of flu I would've probably had it published this month already. I'm finishing it up and still need to do some editing and all that, but it should be posted soon.
In the meantime, and as a bit of a slightly-belated Christmas gift, here's a short story about a mind controller at a cafe. This is rather obviously inspired by the show Jessica Jones, which I've been watching lately. Not the best show, for various reasons not worth getting into, but still good for inspiring a story idea or two.
It ends rather abruptly, but if there is interest I could easily continue it, or add an epilogue to finish it off properly. Let me know what you think, and if you'd be interested in a continuation.
- Tabitha

Thank You For Staring By Tabitha KohlsCopyright 2017***
"Wow, are those tits real or implants?"
Miranda nearly shot coffee out her nose at the unexpected, and very inappropriate, statement.
"Excuse me?!" she gasped, wiping her mouth with her napkin as she stared up from her book. A strange man stood across the cafe table, smiling at her.
He wasn't just a total stranger to her, he was strange.
"I asked if those luscious sweater stuffers of yours are real," the man asked, taking a seat opposite her. She started to tell him off for taking the seat without asking, but he merely waved his finger at her. "Tell me the truth. Oh, but talk as if you were trapped in a porno."
"My titties are one-hundred percent natural titmeat, stud," her mouth said, as she guffawed in shock at her traitorous words.
"I knew it!" The man reached over, and without asking, pulled her coffee over to his side, and sniffed it. "Ugh, why you people insist on packing so much random unnecessary spices into these things..."
He caught the eye of a passing waitress, and shoved the coffee cup into her hand. "Here babe, go pour this out and fill it with the best coffee you can find. Then bring it back. Now!"
The waitress looked as flummoxed as Miranda felt, but hurried off, dropping a tray of food meant for the table behind them. She turned, not toward the kitchen, but instead straight out the cafe doors and headed across the street.
"So, let's talk about you, Miss Titterific," the stranger said. "What's your name?"
Miranda started to answer him, but again her mouth went on with a mind of its own. "Sloppy Seconds."
The man stared at her for a second, then slapped his head. "Ah, right, the porno thing. I take it your first pet was named Sloppy?" She nodded. "And you grew up on Second Street? Okay, what is your legal name?"
"Miranda Holly Taylor," she said despite herself.
"Three first names, interesting." The man stopped, as the waitress suddenly burst back into the cafe, sweating. He took the coffee from her as she reached the table, clearly out of breath. "Mmm, this is more like it! Best coffee around was in the diner across the street, I take it?"
"No, was... three... blocks... downtown--" the waitress began, panting, but the man dismissed her with a wave.
"Whatever, get back to your work bitch." The woman hurriedly began picking up the ruined food she'd dropped, while begging forgiveness from the men seated behind Miranda's table.
"Did you really have to call that fake-titted skank a bitch, studmuffin?" Miranda asked, then winced as her words registered.
"Sure thing, Sloppy," the man said, grinning as he sipped his fresh coffee. "What was Sloppy anyway, a rabbit?"
"My pussy, sir," Miranda said, wincing again. The man barked out a laugh. She tried to explain, but her mouth only made it worse. "My pussy always made a mess when I fed it. She made my hands all wet and dirty when I petted it."
She slapped her very clean hands over her very dirty mouth, her face burning red as people stared at her from the neighboring tables.
"Hence her name, I take it?" The man nodded. "Well, Sloppy Seconds, why don't you tell me some more about yourself. We've already established the fine quality of your tits... where do you work?"
Miranda struggled futilely as she answered the man, her mouth betraying her and adding the nastiest twist to every phrase. By the time the stranger had emptied his cup, she'd spilled out the details of her private life in intimate detail.
The man took her book from before her, as he had her coffee earlier, and borrowing a pen from her purse, quickly jotted down some information of his own. "Since you're a successful businesswoman," he said, pushing the book back to her, "you should have no problem transferring five-thousand dollars into the account I've written here. In fact, why don't you call your bank right now and transfer the funds. Oh, and while you are talking to your banker, you will speak like you usually do."
Miranda tried to fight his commands as she pulled her phone from her purse, but was just as unsuccessful as before. Within minutes she had transferred nearly half of her savings over to the man's own account.
"Well, today has been a very profitable day, for me anyway." The man started to push his seat back, then stopped, a bemused expression crossing his lips. "Hmm... normally this would be the point where I tell you to forget about me, and head off to spend my ill-gotten gains before the command wears off. But..."
He leaned across the table, staring at her, grinning impishly. "But you really dohave nice tits. Maybe I'll keep you around a while longer."
Miranda felt her blood run cold. Clearly whoever the strange man was, he was incredibly dangerous. If she got away from him, half of her savings would be a small price to pay.
"Speaking of, why don't you take those lovely boobs out for me. Now."
Miranda gulped, as her hands began to unbutton her blouse on their own accord. "But, people will see my bitchin' tits, baby?"
Her blouse fell open, even as her busy hands reached behind her, and began to work at removing her bra.
"Of course they will," the man agreed. Miranda's face grew red, as she saw people whispering and pointing from around the cafe.
Suddenly she felt the room's cool air fall across her chest. Without looking down, she held her bra out in one hand. He indicated the table top, and she dropped the garment obediently in place.
"Don't cover up," he ordered, as her hands fell back to her sides. He gazed straight at her breasts, as she felt her nipples hardening in the air. "Oh yes, very nice indeed. It's a crime the way you've been hiding those behind that blouse and unnecessary bra."
Miranda's face was crimson, as people got up to leave, a few stopping just long enough to snap a picture with their phones.
"Please, baby, can't Sloppy cover her jugs now?"
"No." The word fell on her mind like a hammer. He continued staring for a time, as she continued to blush. "You don't like people staring at your tits, do you?"
"No," she managed, almost shaking.
"Not now, I mean before, when I asked you about your tits you seemed very angry that I even mentioned them. And that blouse, not flattering at all. You even button it up to the collar. And I see you've got a jacket on your chair, I bet you button that up too, just to keep people from seeing your wonderful tits."
"Y-y-yes, I-I--" she began, gulping as a group of local college students came in, staring in shock at the topless middle manager sitting in the middle of the crowded cafe.
"You try so hard to hide your best assets," the man said, clicking his tongue in disapproval. "Well, no longer. I want you to thank every man you notice stealing a glance at your tits. Thank him, and tell him why you are thankful for his attention."
The new command fell over her thoughts like a net, and suddenly Miranda's mouth was moving on its own again. "Thank you, sir, for staring at my bazongas. It really makes me feel sexy and attractive, the way your eyes walk all over my giant rack...."
She suddenly turned in her chair, and stared straight on at a man sitting in the booth next to them. "And thank you for staring at my fuckballoons, baby. It really makes me feel so hot."
Miranda's face was on fire, as she started to turn again, to face another man. "Hold on, slutbumps," the stranger's voice cut-in. "Face me again."
She sighed in relief, as she turned back to him. "Thanks for staring at my jugs again, studmuffin. It makes my pussy gush to know how much attention my babies bring me."
The man grinned. "Oh yes, I'm definitely keeping you around. For a while, anyway. Alright, get dressed again, and then follow me; we're going shopping. Oh, and leave the bra."
Miranda hastily buttoned up her blouse, hard nipples tenting the thin fabric without her bra to hide them. She started to put on her jacket, but the man stopped her with a wave. "Take out anything you need from the pockets, but leave the jacket on your chair."
The man held the cafe door for her, as she hurried out, purposely not looking anyone in the eye.
"It's a pity my powers wear off after a few hours, so in a few hours that compulsion to thank guys for looking at your melons will abate." The stranger sighed, staring around them as she fumbled in her purse for her car keys.
"Still, there are some permanent things we can do, in the meantime. Tell me Sloppy, how do you feel about grossly inappropriate tattoos?"

***To Be Continued....

Hello everyone and happy April Fools' Day!
Wow, gone for over a year, never expected I'd be gone so long. Sorry about that, everybody. A lot of real-life issues have come up over the past year, I got a bit depressed when two of my dogs suddenly died early last year, then got busy helping family remodel a very old house upstate that has taken a lot of my time, then had some more emotional issues this past few months that I'm finally starting to get over (I think/hope).
So it's been a lot of things distracting me and I haven't gotten nearly as much writing done as I'd hoped. But with any luck I'm finally getting things back under control, and can get out of this rut I've been in.
Today I have a brand new short-story, featuring the return of the Midnight Surgeon, the body-modification obsessed villain introduced in my ebook Psycho Ward Nightmare. Here he's mostly reduced to a cameo, but the whole 2500-word story features his handiwork.
I'm working on an ebook with him as the main villain, in what will probably be along a similar vein to my Amy's Whore Makeover story, which should make some people happy, as I've had a lot of emails asking for a follow-up or sequel. This won't be a sequel, but should have a similar body-mod theme.
As always, click the Read More to see the new story, and no, this is not a mean April Fool's prank!
Please let me know what you think, and sorry again for disappearing for so long, everyone!
- Tabitha
Juggstaposed
by Tabitha Kohls
Copyright 2017
* * * * *
"Mayppumph!! Owiffimm!!!"
Tasha glared up at her unconscious stepsister, feeling the full weight of the girl splayed atop her own naked body. Alison had finally passed out an hour earlier, and no amount of yelling would arouse her.
It's not like I'm not exhausted too, Tasha thought bitterly, as she painfully tried to roll her sister off her. The sharp pain in her tongue from her attempts to speak was nothing compared to the electric agony that shot through her sex, as she failed to shove the larger girl over.
Panting for breath straight into her stepsister's open mouth, Tasha fought back an urge to scream, instead waiting for the pain to subside. Screaming would only make her tongue hurt more, as she had learned from painful experience since their captor brought them both here.
She stared helplessly around the room, as the painful spasms died back down to the dull ache she'd grown almost used to. Most of her view was obstructed by Alison's thick blonde locks falling over her face, but the watching eyes along the wall were all-too visible even through the curtain of golden braids.
The "eyes" were the silent, unblinking lenses of a dozen peeping webcams, set into the wall with a clear view of the tiny room that had been the girls' private prison cell the past week. She knew there were another dozen identical cameras set in the other walls, all peering across the tiny bed that made up the centerpiece of the room. Even the cramped bathroom that opened beside the bed was filled with the cameras, denying them even that minor bit of privacy.
But even through her stepsister's thick hair, she could see the tiny red lights were all off; for now, at least, they were not being peeped upon by who-knows-how-many perverted middle-aged men. She had no delusions that they weren't being watched by him, of course.
Wakeup, Alison!Tasha mentally screeched, not bothering to try yelling it again. Her tongue tasted the metallic tang of fresh blood, either her own or her stepsister's, she couldn't say. Perhaps both.She and her stepsister had been at a party off-campus the last time they'd been free. They'd both had too much to drink, and were, as usual, having the mother-of-all-bitchfests on their walk back to the dorm room they shared. The school had paired them both as roommates, the computer apparently going by order of name, and by the time they'd realized the mistake, they'd been too late to switch places with anyone.
Alison's father had married Tasha's mother only a few months before, and both girls utterly hated each other with a passion. Both had been bitter rivals throughout high school, long before their parents had broken the horrid news of their engagement at the beginning of their Senior year. Nine months later, and Tasha's last name was suddenly Thompson, and she had a brand new stepsister sharing her bathroom each morning.
Their rivalry had carried over into college, and the two had been so distractedly engaged in cursing out the other, that neither had noticed the white van pull up beside them as they waited for the university shuttle to reach the bus stop.
Tasha had awoken to both a massive headache, worse than any previous hangover, and to the sight of her stepsister staring back at her from mere inches away. Their bodies had been firmly pressed together, and to both their horror, utterly naked!
Over the next few minutes, their plight had become readily apparent; both girls were naked and splayed out on a single bed, set up in a very passable copy of their dorm room, though the furniture and posters on the walls were not theirs. Nor were the dozens of empty bottles of baby oil scattered around the room, or the stained thongs and colorful g-strings piled in the corner. Or the huge amount of lesbian porn DVD cases stacked beside the tiny television.
Nor was the plastic clothesbasket filled with neon-colored silicone double dildos, vibrating wands, butt-plugs, or giant strands of anal-beads something they'd ever have sitting beside the bed.
More alarming than the porn and sex toys, was the total lack of a door out of the ten by fourteen foot room. Tasha's careful observation of the fifty or so webcams she'd found, showed that all of the cameras were angled so as to be centered on the bed (or the shower and toilet, in the case of the bathroom cameras).
There was a single blind spot purposely left in the room; the far corner from the bathroom door, which was itself permanently bolted open in such a fashion that they couldn't budge it closed.Their captor always entered through a panel in that corner, totally invisible to the cameras. Without a door there, the girls couldn't even make a show of beating on it to inform their audience that they weren't here of their own choice, in stark contrast to the claim made by the big banner running along the entire upper portion of the room's walls.
She glared up at the banner, reading it again for the thousandth time. " Scissoring Stepsluts, Making Their Parents Proud, One Orgasm At A Time!"
It made her queasy every time she saw it, for she knew that that was exactly how the two of them appeared to their unseen audience.
When they'd first awoken in the room, they'd quickly learned the nature of their horrible predicament. They were bound, naked, oily bodies pressed firmly together, but their bonds weren't chains or ropes or even handcuffs. No, their bonds were far, far more insidious.
Tasha gingerly tried moving her tongue around, the sting from her tongue piercing and the taste of fresh blood had made her salivate more than she already did, and she desperately needed to swallow now. She tried not to think of how much of the growing pool of saliva filling her cheeks was actually Alison's, dripping down their entwined tongues and filling her mouth.
She swallowed, nearly crying out as the motion tugged her tongue backward, the three titanium studs that permanently passed through her tongue and Alison's resisting the movement and flooding her taste buds with fresh blood again. It was definitely her tongue that was bleeding, her piercings still fresh after a week. The constant tugging back and forth of the lip-locked girls was keeping her piercings from healing as quickly as they might normally.
Thanks to the three metal bars locking their tongues together, Tasha and Alison had been forced to French kiss continuously over the past week. Their captor refused to unlock them, no matter how angrily or desperately they pleaded in their garbled voices. He fed them once a day through a funnel pushed between their lips, purposely pouring all of their food into only one of their mouths, so that they had to share the thick, slimy pureed slop with their stepsister. It was just one of many humiliations they'd been forced to share over the past week of their confinement.Annoying and painful as their mutual tongue piercings were, that was nothing compared to the other piercings locking them together.
Both of their right nipples were pierced with thick, heavy silver-toned rings. Since they were locked atop each other, the rings never touched, so anyone watching on the webcams wouldn't see them as being locked together.
However,  both girls' left nipples had been implanted with a tiny, hard object. Their captor had shown it to them, even as he pierced each nipple and pushed the tiny bead under the skin, using simple super-glue to seal the small wounds shut.
The beads in each nipple were thoroughly hidden from the watching cameras, but each girl felt the constant tug from the embedded rare-earth magnet, as it pulled her nipple onto her stepsister's ring.
Sometimes, particularly when an orgasm overcame one of them, and they arched their backs, they'd pull away from each other's chest momentarily and send their nipples painfully straining toward the other's. It added just another bit of torment into their day.
Of course, their nipple piercings were nothing compared to the tragedy that was their pussies.Tasha slowly, carefully stretched her leg out, trying to avoid a rapidly developing cramp. The motion had to be done with great caution, for even the tiniest movement could send a torrent of white-hot agony through them both.
Alison's clitoris had been pierced ages ago, long before she was old enough to legally have the work done, but Tasha hadn't been so lucky. Her clit was still pulsating in constant pain from the massive grommet that had been pushed through it, while her stepsister's clit was long-since healed.
Alison wasn't entirely without discomfort, of course. The tiny bar that had long pierced her own nub had been replaced with a very thick ring, stretching the tiny hole terribly. The ring itself was permanently threaded through Tasha's new grommet, locking the two former rivals together, clit-to-clit.
Yet, even this paled to the violation below, as he had gone far beyond the mere double-clit piercings, and had fully pierced both girls' innermost folds with at least twelve more rings, as near as Tasha's fingers could tell. Six rings per lip, locking both of their pussies smashed horribly together, their still untouched outer labia lip-locked together, in a horrible parody of their own lip-locked mouths.
Their legs had been interlaced over each other, and with their bodies now tied together so tightly and closely, they had no room to shift their legs to a more dignified position. As it was, both were fully, and permanently, stuck together in the classic lesbian scissoring pose. Every movement, no matter how subtle, made them seem to be purposely grinding their gashes together for the amusement of their horny audience.
And that didn't consider the massive double dildo their captor had locked inside them. The horrid phallus was silent now, but the second those little red-lights above the cameras came on, the turgid silicone dong would spring to life inside them both, buzzing away like mad. Despite their natural revulsion to each other and the horror of their captivity, it was impossible not to grow aroused with the vibrating sex toy buried inside them, and soon their grinding would become all-too-real....
Tasha felt the building cramp ease as her leg stretched out fully, hanging out over the edge of the diminutive bed. Their legs were the only things truly free, what good it did them.
She slowly rubbed her wrists, the skin chafed where her handcuffs sat snug. Her arms were locked behind Alison's back, just as the other girl's wrists were trapped behind her. The cuffs were covered in pink fur - at least hers were, she'd never seen Alison's - and looked like the sort of toy BDSM gear a pair of lipstick-lesbians would own. But the steel under the fur was real enough and Tasha hadn't felt a bit of give in them.
To her annoyance, Alison began to snore, right into her face. It'd been bad enough when she'd been awoken by the girl's honking in the middle of the night in their separate beds across the dorm room, but this was pitifully irritating.
Her annoyance only served to remind her of their last moments of freedom, however, and her growing anger gave way as she recalled their final argument a week before.
"You're a cow, shaking those fake udders in every guy's face, you aren't even that drunk, you skank!!"
"Fuck you, bitch!! At least I have a set of tits, you can't even get those lezzies in your art classes hot for you!"
"Well, maybe if your father had married my mother sooner, I'd have gotten a huge boobjob for my sweet sixteenth too!"
 Those had been the very last words either stepsister had said to the other. Or at least, the last intelligible words. For only a second afterward, Tasha had felt a horrible burning pain in her neck, and just had time to see a second pair of taser needles strike Alison, right above the D-cups that had started their drunken fight, before the darkness overtook her.
Tasha blinked as she heard the telltale scratching of the heavy bolt in the door. He's back!!
"Owwiffimmm!!! Wommphupppghhh!!!!" She smacked her handcuffed hands up and down on the sleeping girl's rump, until Alison finally awoke with a startled snort, accidentally turning her head before the pain in their tongues broke her back to their nightmarish reality.
"Hello ladies, don't let me interrupt..." The infamous Midnight Surgeon chuckled, stepping through the open door.
Peering through Alison's hair, Tasha looked past the brute's towering form. The tiny mocked-up dorm room seemed to be inside of some sort of barn or other outbuilding, what little she could see through the door. Clearly the light passing through the one and only tiny window above the bed was as fake as everything else in the cramped room.
He pulled a small cloth-covered cart into the room, as both girls tried to coordinate their movements enough to sit up. Running through the still open door was simply out of the question, but at least they could manage better than impotently laying in bed, waiting for the fiend to fall upon them.
"Now, girls, I just want to think you for your efforts this past week, the website has been a huge success--" He waved about his face, wrinkling his nose. "Lordy, this place reeks of wet pussy, you girls sure were having fun last night, weren't you? Didn't even have time for a shower, huh?"Tasha saw Alison's face blush, and felt her own heat up, as they both recalled the horrible evening before. The dildo's battery had been freshly recharged, and the cameras had been on nonstop all night.
"Well, good news, cunts!" The man whipped off the cloth from the cart, revealing two sets of bizarre blobs on a metal tray, along a series of syringes and a variety of scalpels that sent an icy shiver down the girls' spines. "Now that you two have proven you can actually make me a profit, it's time to start investing in your assets. Now that I'm free of that asylum, I'm going to need lots of cash to get back to my work, and you stepsluts are going to be my cashcows."
He patted the strange blobs with a gloved hand, sending the mounds jiggling. "And these black market wonders are going to make you two the most popular webcam-whores ever!"
Both girls gasped as they finally realized what the blobs were, but the notorious serial-mutilator ignored them, continuing as he picked up the syringes, "They only just arrived from my contacts in Asia, hard to get and expensive since they were banned, but well-worth the price. They're called polypropylene implants, but most folks just call them silly-string implants. Besides being massive to begin with, they have one very unique quality that got them banned in this hemisphere in the first place."

He approached the girls, as they futilely tried to back away, waving the needles in both hands. "But I'll leave you two to discover that fun fact for yourselves. Let's just say, despite your piercings, you two will be growing apart over the next few years...."
* * * * *The End* * * * *

Greetings everybody! As I mentioned in last week's free story post, I've published a new ebook themed around surgical breast expansion. This is actually a more romantic, consensual-type story than my usual fare, but still has some very fun moments, if you're a fan of big boob fun, anyway. ;-)

Busted (10,000 Words Long)

After Megan catches her boyfriend cheating with a bustier woman, she decides to save their relationship the only way she knows how: by getting the largest set of breast implants she can afford!

This 10,000 word story involves extreme breast enlargement, overfilled implants, super tight bras, and more!

Links:
Amazon
Barnes & Noble
Smashwords






I hope you all enjoy the new story, and be sure to check out last week's free story as well. I plan to continue this story at some point in the future, as I have the whole ending already outlined and partially written. I just need to work out the middle part connecting this story to my ending, and I'm good to go. :-D

- Tabitha Kohls

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

I'd say this was a bit late, but that's an understatement. I've been meaning to post a new free age-regression story for Halloween, but it never really panned out, unfortunately. So instead, today you're getting a Halloween story I originally started last year. It was largely inspired from one of my favorite episodes of a certain show about a vampire-slaying blond girl, but hopefully works well enough even if you haven't seen that episode.

It was meant to be a good bit longer, but I never got around to finishing it, so it's more of opening setup than a real story. But who knows, if there's any real interest in this, I might feel inspired enough to work on finishing it properly, hopefully before another Halloween rolls around!

And in other happy news, I've published a brand new ebook, centered around breast enlargement surgery! It's more of an erotic-romance type of story than my usual fare, but I like it. If you like stories about large breast implants, you'll probably enjoy it too. ;-)

It actually started out as a commissioned story some time ago, but I've since had to end that commission. What's left is basically the first act in a larger three-act story, but I think it works as a standalone for now. I do plan on finishing it eventually, as I've largely written the ending scenes already. I just need to decide what I want to do for the middle parts, and I can get to work.

Anyway, today's story is after the break, as per the norm. Oh, and be sure and check back here in a day or two, when I post the links to the new ebook. With the holidays in full swing, it's taking Amazon and Barnes & Noble a little while to process the new book and bring it up on their sites. The book is up for sale on Smashwords already, though, if you're the impatient sort.

Have a fun holiday and long weekend everybody! And let me know what you think of today's free story too! :-D

- Tabitha

The Head Cheerleader's Party
by Tabitha Kohls
Copyright 2015
* * * * *

"Oh look, it's Scary Mary!"
Marianne stiffened at the words. Even with her face buried in her locker, she knew who was standing behind her.
Taking a deep breath to keep calm, she turned around to face her nemesis, Corinne Lockhart. As usual, the bitch was surrounded by the rest of her bitchy clique, Jasmine, Melody and Denise. The three hangers-on were jeering at her from behind their leader's back.
"What do you want, Corinne?" Marianne said, through gritted teeth. Though she absolutely loathed her nickname, she chose not to acknowledge the bitch's insult. She knew Corinne just wanted to make her angry.
Corinne wasn't just the most popular girl at East Paddington High, she was also the head of the cheer squad, and the prom queen. As if that wasn't bad enough, she was also tall, blond, and totally beautiful to boot!
It just wasn't fair! Corinne did nothing to deserve her popularity! Marianne had the best grades in the Senior Class, would almost certainly be Valedictorian come graduation, and spent just as much time on her hair and makeup as Corinne. And yet it was the lazy, stupid, slutty cheerleader captain who always got all the attention!
It's just because her father owns the town's biggest bank, and bought her those fake tits for her sweet-sixteen, Marianne told herself.
Corinne grinned back at her. "I just wanted to remind you; Halloween is tomorrow."
"Yeah, so?" Marianne replied, warily. She had a bad feeling the blond cheerleader was setting up a trap.
Corrine's grin broadened, as her trio moved in closer. She said, "So...why did you come dressed as witch today, Scary Mary?"
The four cheerleaders broke out into mocking laughter, as Marianne's blood boiled. Unlike the clique of popular girls, she was dressed in her normal gothic attire; black boots, black pants, black fishnet-stockings running the length of her arms, and her favorite black t-shirt. Admittedly, her outfit sometimes drew stares, from teachers and students alike, but to call it a "witch" costume was completely ridiculous!
Okay, sure, the white pattern ironed onto the front of her t-shirt was copied out of an old Wiccan book she'd found in the local library. But it wasn't as if the four twats knew that!
"You-you...you stupid, bitch!" Marianne said, lamely. She felt hot tears burn in her eyes and blinked them away. "Just because you're rich and you surround yourself with these, these...stupid, sycophants, you think your better than everyone else! Well you're not, you...you fake-titted cow!"
"Sycophants? Oh look, Scary Mary learned a new word today." Corinne said mockingly, and rolled her eyes.
"Oh, fuck you! Just leave me alone, you...cunt!" Marianne said, starting to turn back to face her locker, before the four Senior girls saw her cry.
Corinne sighed. "Whatever. The real reason I came over here was to give you this."
Marianne blinked in confusion as the tall, busty blond girl shoved a card into her hand. Her confusion only grew as she read the invitation.
"You're inviting me to your Halloween party?!" She said. She couldn't believe it; Corinne hosted a huge party at her house every Halloween. It had become legendary over the years, but Marianne and her own handful of friends had never been invited to attend.
"Yeah, mom and dad said I had to invite the whole class, or they'd stop letting me use the house. So I'm stuck letting you losers inside; whatever, just don't get in the way of my real guests." Corinne said, turning around and walking away, her trio of sycophants following on her heels.
***
"Wow, I can't believe she invited us!"
Marianne sighed, and looked at her friend Samantha. "Sammie, she's just inviting us to make her parents happy; it isn't like we're suddenly in the cool-kid club, or something. The bitch still hates us."
Her chubby, brunette friend just shrugged. "Who cares, Mary? I'm just happy we get to go, for once. This is our last Halloween together, next year we'll all be in college somewhere."
"I heard there's beer at Corinne's parties," Garth said, smiling. He mimed chugging back a drink. "I'm so going to get wasted!"
Marianne rolled her eyes, but Samantha laughed at the tall, thin boy. "Wasted? What, after half a beer? You're built like a ruler, Gary!"
"Hey, I can hold my liquor!"
"With those scrawny arms? You wish!"
Marianne shook her head as her two friends teased each other, and smiled for the first time since her meeting with Corinne. Unlike her, neither Sammie or Gary were really into the whole "goth-scene" but they'd all been close friends ever since she transferred in from West Paddington Elementary, in second grade.
Which was just as well, as neither had anyone else they could really hang out with. Between Mary's goth-look, Sammie's weight and nerdish interests, and Garth's total lack of social skills, they were at the very bottom of the High School's social totem pole. Without each other, they'd just be three lonely losers. At least together, they weren't quite as lonely.
"She's still a bitch though," Sam was saying, as Mary stopped suddenly. Sam nearly walked right into her. "Hey! What gives, Mary?!"
"Look!" Mary said, pointing. Both of her friends stopped, and looked where she was pointing.
They'd been walking down the mostly empty mall, moving just fast enough not to catch the attention of the mall security guards, who were constantly on the lookout for loitering teenagers, and shoplifters.
The Paddington Mall was once the thriving heart of the Paddington market district; but for years it had decayed into just another relic of the eighties, with most of its storefront's either for rent or taken over by the usual standby cheap outlet stores and fast-food restaurants.
Which was why the three eighteen year olds were so startled to see a brand-new store, its front door sitting just in-between a Burger-Rex and Coff-E.
The three of them approached the storefront. Oddly, the door wasn't the normal open glass affair, but was made of solid wood, with a single small window of frosted glass.
"What is this place? I've never seen it before." Gary asked, staring wide-eyed. Sammie and Mary echoed his expression.
Mary was the first to regain her senses enough to look up, and see the store's small sign. It was painted on a shield-shaped placard, hanging from above the door, like the sign's of old English pubs.
"Loki's Prank and Novelty Emporium," She read aloud. She bit her lip, hesitated for a second, then reached for the door handle.
"Wait, are you sure--" Sammie started to say, but Mary already had the door open and disappeared inside.
Sammie looked at Gary, then shrugged and followed her goth friend.
***
From the outside the store appeared to be sandwiched tightly between the cruddy burger joint and web cafe, but from the inside, the store was massive. Impossibly so.
"Wow! It's bigger on the inside!" Mary exclaimed, as her friends entered behind her.
"Worst pop-culture reference ever!" Gary replied, grinning. But as he looked around, his grin disappeared, as his mouth fell open in total awe.
The store was huge, spreading out in all directions. Every square-inch of space was dominated by tables of bizarre merchandise, all of it piled high in with no obvious sort of order.
"Wow," Sammie echoed, "This place is a mess!"
She hefted a doll from one table, knocking over a pile of other stuffed-toy oddities. The doll was human-shaped, but covered entirely in long, sharp metal pins. She found a small tag, and read out, "Anti-Voodoo Doll, five bucks. Add pins as needed. Warning: avoid fire, water, noxious gases, small dogs, and lamprey."
She tossed the doll back on its table, sending more odds-and-ends clattering to the stone tile floor. "What the hell is this place?"
Mary examined a few items herself, and shrugged, "Some sort of run-down joke shop, I think."
Gary hefted a large, spiky metal sphere from a nearby table. A long cotton cord ran from one end of the ball, with another tag taped to it. "Tiger Removal Mine, four hundred bucks. To keep Tigers away, insert mine into anus and light fuse. Warning: Lubricant not included."
"Pwease don't touch ze merchandise!" A voice boomed, suddenly. The three teens jumped, startled nearly out of their skins, and looked around in surprise.
A tiny man in a black cape, complete with fake plastic fangs in his mouth, suddenly appeared from behind a pile of pre-stained underwear.
"Who the hell are you!?!" Mary said, blinking.
"I am Mither Voki, the--" The short man started, then stopped. He gave them a sheepish look, and pulled his fake fangs out from his mouth. "Ahem, sorry about that, I totally forgot about them. Anyway, as I was saying, I am Mister Loki, the owner of Loki's--"
"Yeah, yeah, it's a joke shop. We got it." Gary said, cutting the man off.
"Ah, yes," Mr. Loki said, glaring at the boy for a second. "Anyway, sorry about the state of the store; I'm still getting everything ready for Halloween. Now, is there anything I can do for you three?"
Mary started to shake her head, then stopped and looked around. Mr. Loki grinned at her, and said, "Ah, I've seen that look before. You need a prank, I think. Got a victim in mind, missy?"
She looked at the strange man for a moment, then at her friends, before finally replying, "Yeah, maybe. I...I'm interested in getting revenge against someone."
"Say no more, I've got just the thing!" Loki said, reaching under his coat. With a flash, he extracted a jar of blue pills. "Everhard Tablets; perfect for getting even with that special man, who wasn't quite so special after all. Just slip him one of these puppies, and he'll be hard as a rock for days and days! Guaranteed!!"
Gary stared almost longingly at the pills, but Mary interjected quickly, "Actually, Mister...um...Loki, I'm looking to get back at a girl. A real bitch."
"Say no more!" The man repeated, slipping his hand back under his cape. It returned an instant later, with a new bottle of pink pills. "Your pampered princess decide she's tired of pussy? Give her one of these, and she'll stay off the straight-and-narrow path, for certain!"
Mary blinked; was the man calling her a lesbian? "Um, what are those?"
Loki rattled the jar, the large pills clacking against the glass noisily. "Everlasting Cockstoppers, of course! Just one pill, and your girl's clam will close up so tight, she'll be using toothpicks for dildos!"
Mary stared at the man in shock, then shook her head slowly. "Um, sorry, but no. I'm not...look, I just need something to get revenge on a bitchy girl at my school, okay? Actually, something for her whole clique would be nice; they're all total skanks and bitches and I hate them and--"
"Oh, I see." Loki said, cutting off Mary's tirade. "What you need is one of my combo packs. Now, when you say you want revenge, just how badly do you want to mess these, er, bitches up? Short term or long? I've got something here for everyone."
Mary looked at Sammie and Gary, who shrugged back at her. "Um, well...I guess I want to do something that will really fuck them all up. I mean, I don't want to kill them or anything, I just want everyone to stop sucking up to them. I want Corinne and her whole stupid clique to stop being the popular girls; I want everyone to treat them just as badly as they've treated all of us, ever since elementary school!"
As Mary caught her breath, Sammie and Gary nodded in agreement. Loki scratched his chin thoughtfully. After a moment, he replied, "Well, that might take some doing. You'll need some of my top-end merchandise. None of this sissy crap!" He gestured at the various tables strewn around them. "No, you'll be needing my real pranks. Just, uh, give me a second to scrounge around and I'll get you everything you need."
Before they could reply, he slipped behind a table and was just...gone.
"Well, that was weird." Sammie said after a moment; Mary and Gary agreed.
"Maybe we should leave?" Gary said, eyeing the door behind them. Oddly enough, no one else had entered the store after them, though they'd been inside for a good quarter-hour. The mall wasn't busy, but it wasn't empty either. A new store should have attracted at least some customers, even if they were only going to look around.
Almost as one, the three teens suddenly realized they hadn't seen anyone else in the store either. They were totally alone, save for the strange owner.
"Um, yeah, we should totally leave," Sammie agreed.
Just as the three teens reached the shop door, the owner jumped out from behind a pile of knickknacks.
"Oh, there you are! Here, I have found exactly what you need." Loki said, thrusting a large box at Mary. She took it, cautiously.
"Um...how much?"
"Well, that's some top-of-the-line stuff in there...let's say...twenty-three dollars and fourteen cents." Loki said, his face twisting oddly as he smiled from ear to ear.
The three teenagers searched their pockets and purses, and managed to find exactly twenty-three dollars and fourteen cents between them. Loki took the money with relish and Mary, Sammie, and Gary moved to leave.
"Wait!" Loki cried out, stopping them dead in their tracks. "This is very important; the stuff in that box is real, very real. But the magicks won't activate until Halloween. So don't use them before, understand?"
Mary and her friends nodded slowly, then hopped through the door.
"Shit, that was weird!" Gary said, looking back at the strange shop. "I thought he was going to stab us, or something. So, what's in the box?"
Mary too was staring back at the shop, as if afraid it wouldn't be there if she lost sight of it. She cautiously tore her eyes away, and looked at the box in her hands. Even more carefully, she tore the top open, and reached inside. She extracted her hand, clutching a bag.
"It's a... witch costume? These are all costumes, cheap ones too." She said, feeling oddly disappointed. Somehow, she'd been almost ready to believe the strange man's impossible claims.
"What's this though?" Gary said, reaching into the box and extracting a large, fat candle. The candle was molded into the shape of a man's head, only with a face on both sides. "Two-faces? Must be some sort of comic-book reference or something."
A small card was tied around the figurine's neck. He read it slowly, frowning. "Light the Janus Candle on Halloween Night, and Make Your Costumes Come to Life! Janus Candle lasts four to six hours, depending on local weather conditions. Do not light in shower or around open gas lines. Avoid driving heavy machinery until effects wear off entirely. WARNING: Do not extinguish early under any circumstances."
"Weird." Sammie lifted the odd candle gingerly. "Still, it's a nice candle. Not sure it was worth all of our money though."
The three friends looked at each other, and back at the candle and box of costumes, growing more confused by the second.
***
The party at the Lockhart mcmansion was well underway, as the entire Senior Class of East Paddington High drank and danced in the huge house's main living room.
Corinne stared down at her Halloween party with relish, from the second floor balcony, overlooking the open lower level of the house.
"Everything is going great!" She exclaimed, nearly giggling with delight. Her hangers-on stood obediently behind her, already in their costumes.
Corinne glanced at the huge clock mounted on her wall, and grinned. "Okay girls, it's half-past eleven, so we're just late enough to be fashionable; time for us to make our grand entrance!"
"Corinne, I'm not sure about this...can't we get a different costume?" Moaned Tiffani, the other blond in her clique of 'friends' as the three girls wriggled in their pantomime costume. "I didn't even like that stupid movie."
"Yeah, that movie was gross," agreed Amberlyn, the auburn of the group.
Jessica, the last of her hanger-on's and the only brunette, just looked miserable, her face lodged tightly against Tiffani's wide bottom.
The three girls were sprawled on their hands and knees on Corinne's bedroom floor, all wrapped together in a huge, specially-made tan-colored body stocking.
"And why do I have to be in the middle?!" Tiffani complained, as Corinne pulled one of the straps holding the three together, pushing her blond friend's head into Amberlyn's butt.
With the body stocking wrapped snuggly around them, they looked almost naked. You could barely see the g-string separating Tiffani's face from the auburn girl's ass, nor the equally skimpy thong Tiffani herself was wearing.
"Hey, I didn't blow fifty bucks on those knee pads just to have you twits not use them!" Corinne said, pushing her blond friend's head down, until it was wedged against Amberlyn's own prodigious butt.
She wrapped a tan-colored strap around the blonde's head, and looped it around the auburn girl's thighs, then synched it tight, locking the two together. Jessica just moaned, already secured to Tiffani's rump.
Secretly Corinne was beyond amused at the complaints, it made the moment that much more satisfying. And it freshly reaffirmed her role in the group.
Her little clique was so pathetic, they'd do anything she told them to, just for the chance to bask in her spotlight. Even wear a 'human centipede' costume to her party!
Corinne grinned as she started down the stairs. As she expected, every eye in the room below was instantly upon her.
Unlike her friends'ridiculous outfits, she looked splendid in her costume. She was going as a human statue, modeled upon the school's cheerleading trophy, which she of course had won three years running.
It had taken nearly an hour to apply the gold body paint to her entire body, even with her groupies' help, but the effect was well worth the trouble. She absolutely glowed, every square inch of skin shimmering in the light. She had found a golden cheerleading skirt and top to match her skin, and had even dyed her naturally blond locks to a very unnatural golden-bronze shade.
She paused at the top of the stares, basking in the inevitable flashes of dozens of camera phones from her adoring crowd below. As struck one lurid pose after another, she caught a glimpse of herself in the huge mirror above the fireplace. She looked even more incredible than she had imagined! All she was lacking was a marble stand under her high-heels, and she'd be the living embodiment of her trophy!
As the camera flashes finally died down, Corinne began her grand entrance to the party.
Halfway down, she realized she was still alone. Cocking her head, she glared at her friends hiding on the landing above until they reluctantly began to follow her down, trapped on all fours.
A dark smile crossed her beautiful golden lips as excited chuckles passed through the crowd, and more camera phones flashed, even as her friends winced in embarrassment. It was good to knock her hangers-on down a peg or two, lest they ride her coattails to true popularity and become rivals. Of course, after tonight's party, there'd be no chance one of the bimbos would ever show her up. Her reign as Queen of the school was assured.
"Really, what can possibly go wrong?" Corinne mused to herself, stopping at the lower landing for another round of pictures.
*****

The End... for now. :-)

Greeting everyone, sorry about the long absence. But I've finally (after 4 months!) published a new ebook, a sequel to Chief Executive Bimbo from last year. This picks up right after the first one, and includes a bit more of the body modification stuff I love so much. I hope you all enjoy it as much as I do. :-)


Chief Executive Bimbo 2 (12,800 Words Long)

Greedy, embezzling CEO Dorothy Zucker is back, trying to turn the tables on her secretary before she is totally transformed into the office bimbo. But is the buxom blond bombshell already too late?

This 12,800 word erotic tale of office domination includes themes of role reversal, status reduction, humiliating clothing, body modification, oral sex, painful hair removal practices, and bimbofication galore!

Links:
Amazon
Barnes & Noble
Smashwords






I'm already working on a third (and final) installment, as I had a good bit of material left that was going to go into the ending of this sequel.

In other news, I fully intended to post a followup to my free story Order of Magnitude, in the last post. But I seem to have lost some documents on my computer, including the finished Order of Magnitude 2 story. I have some of the text still, but it is unfinished. I was hoping to find the missing files on a flash drive or buried deep in my hard drives somewhere, but now it looks like it is all lost permanently after all. So I'll have to rewrite it, I guess.

I'm also currently working on a Halloween-themed story, not sure if I'll have it finished tomorrow or not. If not, I'll try and get it posted as soon as I can, aiming for Sunday or Monday. It's an Age-Regression story, since I haven't done one of those in a long while now and was in the mood lately.

Happy Halloween, everybody!

- Tabitha Kohls

I wrote this over a year ago, but have recently written a standalone sequel, so I figured I might as well post this part first. I was planning on posting it here last Friday, but realized too late that I needed to edit it a bit before it was ready to post here.

I'm hoping to put the second, and totally new, installment up this coming Friday. It isn't a direct sequel, but it will answer a few questions as to Tasha's ultimate fate.

On the ebook front, I'm starting to finally get some of my old muse back at last. I've just started work on a new superheroine story, and have a few similar tales outlined as well. I'm also planning out a third Ro-Sham-Bimbo game show story, this time with a politician theme.

And finally, I've been working on an Age-Regression story, the first since I published Paddled! nearly two years ago. I think this story will have a very Hal or Daring Diane or Alec Leamus feel to it when I'm done. So if you're into their sorts of stories, this might be right down your alley when it's done.

Sadly, none of these stories, or any of the others I've also got simmering, are anywhere near ready to publish yet. And I'm not sure how long it will be. Just be patient with me, and I'll get something out there for all you lovely folks though. :-)

Well, that's about it for news, on to today's story. Just click the 'Read More' link below, as per usual. And be sure and let me know what you think, especially if this story is new to you. I love feedback, after all....

- Tabitha Kohls


Order of Magnitude
by Tabitha KohlsCopyright  2013
* * *
"And welcome back to another exciting segment of the Do The Time Show!!! Our lovely contestant, Tasha, has reached the coveted final question of the third, and final roun--" Don, the game show host paused as he was interrupted by loud applause and shouts from the studio crowd. 
Tasha tapped a foot impatiently; the stupid titanium bondage suit she was locked into was uncomfortable enough, without having to sit under all these bright stage lights. The sooner this show got moving, the better. Besides, she was about to win!
She had completed the previous two rounds, handedly beating out the other two contestants, who were each doomed to spend a year in their suits and with nothing to show for their sacrifice but some gag-prizes, like a lifetime subscription to Chaste&Pure Magazine or a mega-sized bottle of stainless steel polish for their belts.
Tasha herself had managed to amass a solid thousand dollars in prize money before starting this round, and her answers thus far meant she was now just one last question away from leaving with a veritable fortune.
"For our more forgetful audience members watching at home, remember, our contestant has to answer five questions: for every wrong answer, the time she will have to spend trapped in her current ensemble increases by a factor of ten. While her prize money will also increase by the same scale, but only for correct answers. Likewise, a right answer will further decrease her penalty time, but only by half."
Tasha nodded as the host continued reading off his teleprompter. She already knew all of this; she just wanted to finish her round and take her winnings home.
He finally turned to her, and said, "Now Tasha, before we left for the commercial break, you had answered four questions; two wrong answers and two correct answers. Since you started the round with a penalty time of just one day in that wonderfully uncomfortable suit, your incorrect responses pushed your time to one hundred days. But your two correct answers have likewise brought that down to a mere twenty-five days. As always, you'll have to 'Do The Time' to collect your prize."
"I'm feeling really confident, Don," Tasha said quickly, getting in before the audience could start chanting the show's stupid title again. The constant repetition was bad enough, and she was itching to finish the final round. Plus she was starting to chaff where the metal suit was rubbing her fair skin. Pushing her discomfort from her mind, she went on, "I think a month in chastity sounds like a fair price to pay for all my winnings."
"I bet it does. And speaking of your prize, your two correct answers have brought you up to an amazing one-million dollars! You're on track to be our biggest winner ever!!!" Don exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear.
Finally he turned back toward the board on the back wall of the stage, and Tasha quickly took her own place, beside the massive wheel that was the centerpiece of game.
The huge horizontal wheel was made up of triangles, each listing a question category and the occasional special item. Some were far larger than others, to ensure some categories were picked more often, others only rarely.
Before the slick-haired host could launch into his lengthy explanation of the wheel's rules yet again, she bent over and gave the heavy wheel a hard spin. This seemingly simple maneuver was made much more difficult by her bondage suit, the tight metal straps and belt fighting her every move. She wasn't looking forward to spending a month in it, even if it did end with her huge payday.
Each contestant was fitted with a unique suit, but hers was unusually restrictive. Aside from the usual steel chastity belt, and short hobble chain and cuffs holding her ankles close together, a stiff metal T-shaped bar was locked across her chest, neatly splitting her large breasts to each side. It attached at the top to a thick metal collar locked around her neck, which prevented any serious movement of her head. The top points of the T-shape each held a short chain, which locked to her wrist cuffs, further restraining her movements.
Nevertheless, she managed a good, hard shove, and the wheel spun around several times, before finally coming to a stop on one of the thinnest of the triangles. A special category, apparently.
One of the show's busty assistants eagerly lifted the triangle free of the wheel, and handed it to the host, beaming broadly the whole while at the cameras. Tasha rolled her eyes, and waited for Don to read the category off to her for the final time.
The host thanked the assistant, and waited long, drawn-out seconds as the busty woman walked back offstage. Finally, he turned the thin sliver of board over in his hands, and gasped. Instead of reading the new category off, he exclaimed, "I can't believe it! You've picked an Order of Magnitude question! Our first all season long!! And on your very last spin too!!!" 
Tasha was floored as well; the extremely rare Order of Magnitude question was a prize magnifier. Instead of the usual ten-fold increase, a correct answer now would increase her prize money by a factor of one-hundred! She could walk away with even more money than she had dared dream! Never mind starting up that women's-only law firm; she could start a women's-only law college!
"Remember Tasha, if you get next question this right, your prize money will increase, not by tenfold, but by one-hundredfold," Don cautioned, wetting his lips. "But a wrong answer will have the same effect on your penalty time. But are you sure you want to take the chance? The producer might be willing to offer you a deal, if you choose to skip the magnifier, and keep the normal rate for your final question."
They both looked up at the Producer's skybox hanging over the stage; Tasha rolled her eyes. "I'm going to take my chances, Don. I can't just walk away from that kind of money!"
The host nodded glumly, then quickly peeled a piece of tape from the triangle still in his hand. He read the underlying words, and suddenly grinned. "Okay, Tasha, it appears that your final category is... American Porn!"
Tasha winced; she didn't the know the first thing about porn!
"And your question is..." Don paused, as the board lit up, a woman's face appearing, the image clearly a screenshot taken at the height of a feigned orgasm. "What is the cup size of this pornstar?"
Tasha felt her own face grow pale. As she had feared, the woman was a total unknown to her.
"Um...a Double-D?"
"Ooh, a very good guess, but I'm afraid you are wrong! Miss Tiffany Totts is actually only a B-cup."
Don's grin grew smug, as the crowd began to thrum with rising excitement. While they would cheer on a winner, they truly loved the losers. "And we all know what that means, don't we? Tasha, I'm afraid your penalty time is automatically increased by one-hundred times. Sorry dear, but you aren't going to be free of that suit for another twenty-five hundreddays!"
Tasha was dumbfounded; that was nearly seven years! And the stupid prize money wouldn't be paid out until she was finished with her penalty time!!
Don touched the side of his head; evidently someone was speaking to him through his ear piece.
"Wow, good news, Tasha!" He gushed a moment later. "It seems the Producer is willing to make you an offer, and boy is it a doozy!"
His flamboyant tone and mannerism got laughs from the audience, but only annoyed Tasha. She was staring the better part of a decade of forced chastity and bondage in the face, and was in no mood for his slapstick antics.
"Yes, and what it is his deal?" She snapped, growing impatient as the wild host milked the audience for more applause.
"The deal is that he will double your winnings to a cool two-million in cash. And he will alter your belt's software code, and program it to give you an orgasm once a year. Of course, that orgasm will come at a totally random time." Don explained, given an exaggerated shrug. "Could happen while you are at home, enjoying a night of television; could happen in the middle of the grocery aisle at your local shopping center; it might even happen in the middle of church! Who knows?!" 
Tasha cautiously nodded. "Okay; so what's the catch?"
"The catch is two-fold; One, your time will be increased to an even ten years. And two, you must answer two bonus questions, chosen by our studio audience. But this time your prize money won't grow, nor will you gain any more time for a wrong answer."
Tasha started to frown, wondering what the point of the bonus questions was if she got neither reward nor penalty, but Don quickly added, "However, your total number of orgasms will be tied to your responses. For example; a correct answer will result in a tenfold increase in your forced climaxes per year."
Despite herself, Tasha started to grin; this deal was starting to sound a lot better than she had dared hope for. At least her decade in bondage wouldn't be without some pleasures, however infrequent. Two right answers and she'd be getting off twice a week! Hell, that was better than her current sex life!
But her smile drained away as Don finished, smirking, "But a wrong answer will result in a one-hundredfold increase in orgasms per year. And all of them randomly timed. You better hope the audience picks some easy questions, or you'll rust that belt right off!"
Tasha's face grew pale again, as the audience exploded into galls of laughter. She quickly did the math in her head, while, trapped inside it's unbreakable titanium shield, her pussy suddenly spasmed violently at the thought of ten years of forced orgasms. If, god forbid, she missed both questions....

After a long moment, Tasha gulped and made her decision....
* * *The End* * *